August 7, 2026

From Virginia

Last time I was here was in 2018, during a heatwave over the 4th of July. Same weather. Hot, moist, stormy. These few days have put a lot of my Californian anxiety into perspective. Watching thunderstorms pour down was lovely. We are not going to die of thirst, at least not here. Everything is green, lush, rusty, and colossal. Except in Georgetown and a few other historic sites. Nobody talks to strangers. All passersby are just adjacently sweaty, occasional smiling. The dressed-up commuters look like relics of a past time. I felt hot and bad for them.

I celebrated my 10years in the US with what was my first symbolic contact with America: a one pound burger at Fuddruckers. I barely handled it which summarized my last decade well. The milkshake after felt fantastic. My 2nd or 2rd milkshake ever. I also had a rare treat: a mille-feuille (Napoleon pastry), from one of the many Whole Foods that have popped up in the suburbs among the sea of data centers. It's absolutely wild, the amount of megastructures and substations in Virginia.

I dreamed about shaving every time I was out for more than 5 minutes. The humidity and sweat turned my beard into a swamp mask. I did not feel the urge to moisturize once. On day two, I also appreciated how much more relaxed my forehead felt from not needing to squint.

I went to Kura Revolving Sushi Bar with Juwan. We talked about Japan, Expo, AI, cultural differences, and made some predictions for the end of the year. We agreed that something dodgy will likely happen around AI tokenomics. It was fun to meet in the middle. He’s flying back to Japan the day after he gets his visa. I thought of him as I was sweating in my heavyweight cotton t-shirt the whole afternoon walking the grimy streets of DC he knows too well. The White House is barricaded and half-gutted. Construction and homelessness everywhere. I take a special kind of creature to live and thrive here. Not us.

Chinatown was surprinsgly small. One block? I walked around downtown a bunch. So much sweat was pouring I didn't stink like usual. My theory is that so much water was flowing it rinsed the clothes instead of drying and leaving an odor.

I’m not concerned about my looks, but the sweat line rising on my cotton beige baseball hat is not only ugly, it’s gross. I tanned a bit and ran into a dozen French people. I spoke to a lady wearing a SainteLyon 2025 t-shirt. She reminded me of my mom: late 50s, jogging on the National Mall, a Snoopy watch, a typical Gen X smile on her face screaming, Look, I still got it!

On my last day my broken toe was starting to hate me as I approached the 100k steps. I mostly sat on benches and walked around as much as I reasonably could. Stopping in air conditioned spaces when drenched in sweat is a trademark move of mine. I prefer parks where I can shake and run my shirt a bit while doing a few stretches. Can’t do that indoors. DC is too civilized. I got some looks for security a few times.

Flying in I scrolled through the list of 72 movies. Nothing caught my eye, but since it was a 4.5-hour flight, I caved and rewatched Interstellar, then followed it up with Project Hail Mary. Just because I like space stuff. I’m not a novel or story guy. Tears came to my eyes a few times but felt mechanical. I tear up when I see pain, or ear bagpipes.

My dislike of airports remains. Their humanity and convenience barely compensate. I wrote this up in the air on the way back to avoid the movies. I fasted both ways. Not even water, just air. I felt sharp and too aware of my souvenir mosquito bites. Looking through the window made my water scarcity anxiety flare up. I don’t do well in planes. I can’t sit still for very long.