mattyk's hott in '05

A year is an arbitrary period; markers in time that we use to denote events, places and locations. But for the past three years, my New Years Eve traditions have provided the bookends to the most exciting experiences of my life. Whether enjoying a KimArti special overlooking the Las Vegas strip, wearing one of Kim’s dad’s “little hats” at the Lucas family annual bash, or enjoying a wrap in the frigid climate of the District of Columbia in winter, NYE is the one night in which we pause to reflect and appreciate the memories we share with others. This year shall be no exception, and as we prepare to gather on the shores of beautiful Lake Merritt, California, I think back at how little I expected from 2005, and yet how stunningly it performed. Watch out 2006; you’ve got big shoes to fill, for here is my very own, “hott in ’05:”

We arrived that day from the west coast, a five-day driving adventure with the single mantra Kim and I repeated over and over: “Monday, Friday, Arti.” We departed San Francisco on Monday, and were due to pull into Washington Dulles International Airport on Friday December 31, 2004 to pick up Arti, who joined us via airplane for the weekend. Feeling like the first three months in DC had simply been a practice run, 2005 was the year to make life work. Who knew how many of those unanswered questions from 2004 and before would finally be settled in the wild times of ’05?

There were wraps before the party, a bottle of champagne each, we hung with the roomie, invited over California friends, celebrated new years in four timezones, and T-Rex continued his dominance over Raptor; we had KimArti DC weekend, and I finished furnishing the house.

January brought temperatures of death, a snowy and Texan inauguration, an MLK weekend visitor, and some job interviews. I took one. There was a night at Nation, and a lot of potbelly sandwiches. I worked long nights, ate lunch in Lafayette Park, and like my newfound attempt at a professional career, this sh*t definitely went b.a.n.a.n.a.s.

February brought health insurance, a weekend in new york city, rent on broadway, the national design museum, and I fell in love with a little man named dumpling. I spent President’s Day weekend on the beach in Malibu, and in between managed to hit San Francisco for a weekend with Na’an of crepes and miniature golf.

In March the snow began to thaw, I realized my shoes and most pants were ruined, I met a wonderful friend named Connie, gained responsibilities at work, moved offices from Farragut to McPherson, spent more than one wild night in A.Mo living the life at the Reef, eating giant slices of pizza at the *good* giant slice place, sent my boss around the world while I got to know April and Cynthia, KimmyLu ran to UMBC and Tufts, and we spent a delightfully east coast weekend in Boston – complete with pub night, gay night, children’s books about sushi at Harvard, Sunday brunch, shopping on Newbury street, planning social events across the country, my first time at fenu-wayu-wayu-wayo hall, and my favorite – searching for the common under three feet of snow… in March. The nights at JRs continued, there was wicked drama at leg con, and a quick trip home for Easter.

My year took an entirely different turn on Thursday, March 31, when a casual dinner trading coming out stories at CPK led to a wild night of drinking, dancing, and introductions at cobalt and apex. 48 sleepless hours later I was on a cancelled, rescheduled, and ultimately ephemeral flight to Anaheim, where even the wild imagination of Disney could not have crafted a story to match such an existential moment in my life. There were new relationships beginning in Anaheim, friendships sustained, and a sordid closure to one over beignets and the hot tub. It was hard to return from California, but I did to discover the weather had changed, and in celebration of Spring, I sprung for my final graduation requirement – a year of Spanish in ten weeks. Weekdays full of new projects and challenges at work, weeknights full of verb tenses and interesting people, followed by long waxing conversations about Spanish, law school, and the nature of all things international, were joined by weekends of debauchery at halo, cobalt, and jrs. Man-CJ and sloppy22 will always have a place in my heart. The dinners at Raku and Thai Chef kept me happy, and the Daily Show kept me informed. There was a fun random weekend in Tampa, two root canals, and my first Nationals game. There were random dates throughout the year, but rarely of consequence. April brought two dates, a kiss, and a decision to be friends that made me happy.

As April turned to May, I was invited to Sacramento to interview for a long-shot fellowship. I walked the streets of Sacramento remembering all of the time I spent there as a student and wondering if I could make it work as home. I dismissed the idea as impossible, and took my parents to Joe’s Crab Shack to remind them I was gay. We had a fun weekend in TO, Westwood, and Malibu, and saw the West Wing guy over breakfast. On the flight back I realized I loved DC, and it had become home. The next week my mom and cousin came to visit, I was offered and accepted the fellowship in Sacramento, and set out to enjoy the rest of my summer in my newly beloved home – DC. We hit the usual spots, Jaleo, Georgia Brown’s, and Raku before spending a weekend in Norfolk. The wedding, the cousins, the drinking. After a fondue dinner and a power breakfast Mom was back to California, and three nights later, the night before Memorial Day, I went to Lizard Lounge with a friend, had a wonderful time, and spent the rest of the week with my boyfriend.

In the course of those first few nights, May rolled into June, and I took a quick trip to LA to celebrate the narrow victory of the ucla evp legacy. I took the weekend to relax, but ran to the airport at the sound of the phone to catch the earliest flight back. Trips to the mall, bestbuy, vacuum shopping, lunch at noodles, taco nights, homemade guacamole and lots of pasta; fox news, stepping onto the balcony at 3am, and setting the alarm early enough just to wake up and smile. Rob turned 23, he got sick and went to new york, and upon his return began the rigsby invasion. There were three that week, two the next, and my roommate never suspected a thing. There were nights at cobalt, moving gayvid from one house to another, fancy Friday lunches, and a great date at the Kennedy Center. I finished Spanish, and with that, my degree, and we celebrated with a visit by Anu. Steph Chu flaked out that weekend, but it was fine with me for many reasons.

We entertained ourselves with ESPNZone and the July broadway derby – three shows in two days, we held out for wicked, and a great summer weekend ended with Barry Bostwick, Gloria Estefan, and four fun friends celebrating American independence day on the Capitol lawn. I met RS’ friends, he had a party, and I flew off to a week in Hawaii with Klu. Between misubi and ahi poke, sunburns and All the King’s Men, I had a chance to reflect on a piece of paradise 7500 miles removed from my real life. When I got back we both had the plague, I gave my quittin notice, and everything seemed to change. Connie and I took some long lunches over the Greek salad as we tried to comprehend our own transitional situations.

In August, I hosted a fantastic dinner party for the California embassy, and I peaced out of Association Global Services. A week in Argentina followed, with the world tango championships, a shammy hotel, ferry rides to distant countries, shopping malls, leather jackets, subway rides, great pizza, empanadas, and pasta (but not all at the same place!), the gaza pullout, lots of good conversation, a feeling of peace, and the best steakhouse of my life. Argentina was wonderful, the calm before the storm, and upon return my life picked up enormous speed.

And at the height of our president’s second term popularity, my world, like his, fell victim to a force so great that it transformed a proper noun into a verb; our worlds were Katrina’d. I flew to Sacramento and signed a lease. I somehow succeeded in both cramming for the GRE that week, and avoiding the 24-hour news cycle-induced depression known as “Katrina Fever.” It was now September, and my parents arrived and we ate and ate and packed and ate. They set off on their own amazing trek across the wild abyss that constitutes the flyover states between California and the midatlantic, and I settled in for one last week in my home city. I turned 24, marking a full year since my exploration of South-East Asia, and with one last good pasta dinner, pizza dinner, drink at halo, metro ride to national, night cuddled up with a cute cat, and shuttle van to Washington Dulles International Airport, I said a heavy, uneasy, but most hopefully only temporary farewell to the city, the region, and the coast that had so completely transformed me in such a short time; the place where I had become an adult. The week at home that followed was awkward, as what should have been an ending was, in fact, a very urgent beginning. I immediately left for LA to plug the holes and finish what I had started, and then to Boston to put my eye back on the goal. Fireworks, clam chowder, and the lesbian capital of the world did the trick, and I arrived back just in time to switch apartments, get settled, and rush off for a play weekend in San Francisco – the most unique of experiences that truly merged my left and right coast lives.

It was now October, time to start fellowship orientation. The fellows get their own memory book, but between the Stanford Mansion, the sleepover, Halloween revelry and the Julia Morgan house, morning carpools and guest speakers, seminar and cabinet secretaries, the horseshoe, the ltg, the correctional system in receivership, the food & ag; of course, the disaster art series and visit to the state emergency operations center could only be topped by the ultravisceral, near-death experience of taking a 90 degree hairpin turn in a chevy camaro going 120 mph with the foot on the gas resulting in a 740 spinout with the air hitting my face straight-on and the smoke of burnt rubber invading my window. It was an exciting day, and no, it wasn’t during the carpool. The fellows bonded and grew close, were placed in our assignments and dispersed. I managed to escape for a weekend in LA with Rob – C&O’s, some shopping on the promenade, a drive through WeHo, and lunch in Little Tokyo, and another one in December to consult – this time featuring Saddle Ranch and some good chill downtime. Rob came twice to Sacramento, and we went for a Tahoe run (fondue, blackjack, and wine), winetasting, pickup stix, the equire grill and masons, more blockbuster nights as always, and good friend time.

As we approach the end of 2005, I still have the Vegas trip, Christmas with the fam, and a night in San Francisco just before new years on the calendar. My life is for once focused, and right now on the policy efforts necessary to ensure that California will remain an economically prosperous and socially just state for generations to come. And in my job I get to help write the text, plan the events, and think the big thoughts that will make it all happen.

It’s been an amazing year. Thanks to everyone who contributed to the events and emotions above. Did I forget something? I doubt it, but let me know and I’ll plug it in. You all continue to rock my socks, and your comments, emails, ims, and phone calls are always appreciated.

As for what’s hott and commercial – The Postal Service, United Airlines, the states of DC, Virginia, New York, California, Illinois, and Delaware (for corporations only), Harris Teeter and Raley’s, Express for Men and Club Monaco, OpenTable and Expedia travel packages, Mr. Brightside, bottles of wine, rum&cokes, and 3-story lounges, putting sugar on my tongue, being a bellydancer, and getting your child support insured by Geico. My heart races and it makes me smile to take my beautiful car 70 mph down Del Paso Road, 55 on Sunset Blvd through Bel Air, 40 mph barreling down California Street from Nob Hill to the Embarcadero, or to make all the lights on Mass Ave headed toward 395-South to Arlington.

…and THAT’s what was hott in ’05.