Tomorrow is important for three reasons. On January 9, 2008:

1. I will turn 25,
2. Richard Nixon, in another plane of reality where he is not dead, will turn 95,
and
3. The Columbia Heights Target will be exactly two months away from its grand opening.

Fucking hell yes. I live very close to said Target and the accompanying retail complex and, just like any other idle Columbia Heights twenty-something who sits in front of a computer all day, I enjoy reading through all the message boards and comment threads about the DC USA development. Wherein people just bitch and bitch and bitch and bitch, endlessly, about their petty middle-class hangups and "needs." Traffic will be terrible! The building looks ugly! Ew, I don't understand why they're putting a Ross and a Marshall's right next to each other (subtext: I don't like shopping with poor people, and I failed Econ 101)! Instead of the Ross, I demand they put in a fancy organic grocery! Because I am too good to shop at our brand-new, shiny, beautiful Giant! But also, all this is ruining the neighborhood! Because I hate companies! Big companies! I hate them!

Let's go point-by-point.

Traffic and parking issues:
Yeah, this is a legit complaint. Navigating 14th St. is already sort of a pain in the ass, whether you're in a car or whether you're on foot and second-guessing the shitty traffic lights at the Mayorga/Heights/Target intersection. I can only imagine what a gridlocked nightmare that area will be on the weekends, once the big box stores are all up and running. But here's an idea: Take 16th street. Or 13th. Or walk to the metro. Or get on the bus. Or ride a bike. And if having convenient street parking for your car is such a humongous quality-of-life issue for you, then what are you doing here? Either stop whining or sell your car or move out of the city. I can't believe people argue about this. Shit is common sense.

The building looks ugly:
Know what else is ugly? A scrubby, empty field, which is what was there before. And I know "it could be worse" is not really a satisfying argument, and I, too, do not want to live in a neighborhood that looks exactly like the suburbs, minus the parking lots. If I wanted that, I would have moved to Clarendon. Christ, that place gives me the creeps. If you live there, I apologize for being mean. I do covet your Container Store. Your The Container Store? Whatever.

Anyway. I just can't get too worked up about this. First of all, I'm not a student of architecture or anything, but I don't find the building all that offensive-looking. And you can walk one or two blocks in any direction, turn the corner, and be in the midst of rowhouses and churches and everything else we hold dear about pretty city living. Once they start tearing down handsome old buildings for KMarts and condos, then I will get up in arms about it. But throwing up blah buildings where there used to be nothing? Whatev.

Whole Foods vs. Ross vs. Ellwood Thompson's thing:
This discussion is developmentally disabled. Thinking about it tires me. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. On the one hand, I would rather have the Ross, because I would actually shop there and it would better serve the neighborhood and fewer yipsters (i.e. me-types) would clog the sidewalks on weekends. Then again, if there were a Whole Foods or an Ellwood Thompson's instead, maybe the Giant would become less crowded, and our Sunday grocery trips would be more peaceful. So, either way. It would be kind of nice to have the Ellwood Thompson's, because we used to live on Ellwood St. in Richmond, blocks away from the original store. But did we shop there? Hells no. Ryan was a youth counselor at a group home, and I was a g.d diner waitress. And what about now, can we afford to shop at Whole Foods or Ellwood Thompson's now? Eh. I'll take my chances with the hormones and pesticides, thanx.

Anyway. I've gotten off track. I originally meant for this to be a love song to the Giant, and to the Target-to-be. God, I love the Giant. I love how I can walk there in five minutes. I love how big and new it is. I love the people who work there. I love how everybody in the neighborhood shops there. I love how they haven't run out of frozen edamame for weeks, now. Giant, I will never forsake you for stupid Whole Foods. I will never whine that your lines are too long. I love your lines. They are just right. Don't ever change.

And I know I will love the Target for the same reasons I love the Giant: It will be blocks away, it will fill a gaping hole in the market, it will do so in an aesthetically pleasing, efficient way, and it will bring everybody together.

In the end, I guess I'm just pleased with myself for moving into a colorful neighborhood that is about to explode with convenience, and for getting here too late to have anything else to compare it with. Again, I understand the complaints about the suburbification of the neighborhood. I plan on never patronizing the Starbucks (plural, soon) near the metro, as long as the Mayorga and Columbia Heights Coffee are still around. I will never go to Ruby Tuesday's as long as D.F Taco is still up the street. As soon as the neighboorhood starts to look, demographically, like Dupont or Logan Circle or Woodley Park or Cleveland Park, we will see no point in staying (assuming we will not have been priced out by then). For as long as we can manage it, we will continue to seek out neighborhoods that are not filled with people exactly like us -- ethnically, socioeconomically, country-of-origin-ally -- and this is not stupid or misguided or naive. It is a huge quality of life issue, and a huge part of what it means, to me, to be an American. And so I understand that Columbia Heights could be on the brink of something very sad. Safe and convenient, but expensive and bland and whitebread and sad.

I guess we'll just have to wait and see. I'm going to
a) hope for the best, and
b) maybe look into volunteering for affordable housing organizations, or something like that, and
c) dry-hump the Target.