From Carhartts to suede, from play to charade; my, what a difference this one week has made.

I’m still in the process of waking up in Washington DC. I haven’t gotten used to mornings here, so my eyes dart around the room until I see a few familiar items; a feather, guitar, purse, and I remember that I’m home. I tell myself that today I’m going to put my collection of national geographic pictures up, that way I’ll only have to look at the one wall to know tomorrow, my first day of work. Wow, my first day of work for a government agency.

Perhaps a little backtracking is in order. I was the lucky recipient of a 1-year marine policy fellowship to be executed in 2009. I found out about this last Spring, and with the exception of a few weeks on the East coast and a few more in California, spent the lot of my pre-move interval in Alaska. To be fair, after moving out of Seward, Alaska in July of last year, this time was largely spent in the lovely town of Kodiak. There, I worked toward finishing my masters- a deal I plan to seal in just a couple of months when I briefly return to Alaska for its final, formidable, and with any luck surmountable defense. Hopefully I’ll learn a few subtle negotiation tactics in the interim to help me through what promises to be a tumultuous day. Still backtracking, In December I came to DC for a whirlwind of pomp and circumstance, known to the fellows as Placement Week. We were charged to interview with 12-15 pre-selected government agencies and pick the one we want to work for. The only way to keep 30 type As from an all-out saloon style brawl was to make all of the jobs amazing and offer more than 30 (so the employers are left in the cold, not us), which they did and I walked away with a job with the Office of National Marine Sanctuaries, a division of the National Ocean Service. The National Marine Sanctuaries system includes 14 swaths of US-protected ocean that for one reason or another need special care. They are as far afield as American Samoa and near to shore as the Great Lakes; working at headquarters I will represent all of them, including the ones yet to be formed.

This brings us to the events of the last week, which began with a long-expected, usually eagerly anticipated journey very far South and even farther East. After 20 hours of baby-screaming, airport-pacing, nervous-lady-bottle-crunching purgatory I was greeted with open arms by a family friend named Nancy and taken to my new studio apartment which she had graciously arranged in my absence. Unfortunately the jet lag, preceding days’ lack of sleep, and general stress of moving left my immune system misguided enough to take in and nurture a sinus infection like a lost puppy on Christmas. And so I spent my first days in a new city exploring the monuments through Venetian blinds and the neighborhood though osmosis of the ventilation system. I did surface long enough to pay a visit to my new office, which was a treat. Here are a few things I was told I will be doing this year:

-Negotiating with the American Sportfisherman’s Association on fishermen’s’ rights in sanctuaries.

-Writing newsletters and summaries of the sanctuaries for constituent groups.

-Participating & preparing with various sanctuary leaders as they lobby on Capitol Hill.

-Organizing a black tie Ocean Leaders awards ceremony for Congress.

-By my suggestion- working with the person trying to establish sanctuaries in Alaska.

From limited meanderings through my nearest neighborhoods of Dupont Circle and Adams Morgan, I am quietly happy to see that shops are still littered with Obama inauguration paraphernalia, so I can snap up a few things and imagine I was there. Between the cheesy tasseled buttons and bejeweled Americana placemats I’ve seen products aptly named “The Audacity of Soap” and “Yes We Can-openers”. I can see this will not be a year of tight budgeting for me or the nation, but you have to spend money to make money, right? Well, I know at least the first half of that is true. In the spirit of sharing I’ll eagerly confess that a deeper part of myself is still in Alaska, looking around anxiously for my feather, guitar, and purse which seem to have been misplaced. It is hard and I’m sure will continue to be for a while longer, but I remember that ‘one does not discover new lands without consenting to lose sight of shore for a very long time’, from Andre Gide. And so, having nothing to lose and everything to gain, I will go forward in joy.