fresh fish daily

I concur.

Last night, I made my best friend’s husband’s dream come true.

I shouldn’t take all the credit though. My husband helped too. Well, so did she. It was a full three-pack support effort.

Luckily, his wildest fantasies are food- and beverage-based.

E and T are visiting from England and T was recalling his short-lived residence in Ottawa as a time of, well… poverty. He spent yesterday eve reflecting on the dire financial straits that they endured while they lived here and specifically the one weekly dilemma that used to pain him. Every Wednesday he had to choose between a pint and a gelato. Being the good Englishman that he is, he went for the pint… every time. One can only imagine his longing glance into Pure Gelato on his way home every Wednesday.

So, after dinner at Oz Kafe last night we went to Woody’s for a pint (ok, maybe that should be plural) and then for gelato. When I say gelato, it’s best to get a vision in your head of the magnitude of gelato that the boys went for. We’re talking GELATO. The waffle cone filled with four flavours that took them the entire length of the 15 minute walk home to consume.

I was a bit sad to find out that he had faced this weekly dilemma unbeknownst to us, as surely we would have been happy to treat. When I expressed this last night on the walk home though, T looked at me, ice cream smeared across his gigantic grin, and said “and take away from the joy of this moment?! Never!”

I wasn’t sure how to frame this entry, but was sure that the extended narrative is not appealing to the writer nor reader at this point, so I thought perhaps a top ten list would work.

Top Ten DC highlights (and things to do/remember, if you’re interested in my advice):

1. If you want a glass of wine and you’re under 75, bring your I.D. But when they ask you for it (because they will ask you for it), pretend you forgot it and try to talk them into serving you anyway. I can almost guarantee you’ll get some variation on the following story: The bartender here/next door got arrested yesterday/last week/month because he served someone without i.d. who ended up being underage (note: that means the person could have been TWENTY). The dude was arrested, put in jail for the weekend and will never work in this city again. Plus, he’s got two/three/ten kids. Note: I’m not saying that they’re lying about this, in fact I’m pretty sure they’re not. What I’m saying is: Bring your ID because they’re nuts about alcohol.

2. Dupont Circle - so peaceful, especially in the summer and just begs you to go buy some books (that you can’t fit into your luggage on the way home, but will figure something out), cancel the rest of your day’s plans and sit there to read/nap/read/nap.

3. Metros are fun. Super fun. Always.

4. Jaleo - sure, it’s just a tapas restaurant in Penn Quarter, but oh mon dieu. We went on my birthday and took the server’s recommendations (before she told us about the bartender being jailed) and oh my goddess was it ever good! We went back again two nights later. That good.

5. I’m pretty sure the reason that the Air & Space Museum in the Smithsonian complex is the “most visited museum in the world” is because it’s touted as “the most visited museum in the world.” Think about it. However, I did learn how things fly, which I’m sure will come in handy one day.

6. The Planetarium in the Air & Space Museum is worthy… 

7. Georgetown, where as my co-worker discovered and so aptly stated, the 80’s yuppy lives on. Polo Ralph Lauren: Check. Boat shoes: Check. Khakis everywhere: Check. Check the comments on davesblawg’s DC entry to get a fantastic summary.

8. The people are ridiculously nice. I was trying to recall the last time I’d been somewhere that I encountered such a high response rate to my test of smiling at people on the street to see if they smile back. The only place that rivaled it was Husband’s parents’ small village in Italy where they not only say hello (ok, “ciao”) but also try to force you into their home and make you eat pasta… at 9 a.m.

9. Hard to boycott Starbucks in DC. Yes, that’s a confession.

10. Pay attention to the signs about which sidewalks you can and can’t walk on. Should you miss a sign and be walking where you’re not supposed to, be prepared to be threatened with an arrest. This is the exception to #8 above. Also, probably best not to get your back up in response to their power trip. Then again, I take that back… why not?

Alright, alright… I give in.

My recent trip to DC was great. While I was there for a course that took up about 87% of my time, luckily I’m fast like lightning and was able to get in most of the sites. It was very reminiscent of my Chicago strategy over a year ago. Not reminiscent in this trip was my blogging commitment. Last year - every day I was there, I blogged. That’s what happens when one has a) a laptop, b) free wireless in the hotel, and c) no one to ease the loneliness.

But I digress.

I accidentally did most of DC the first night I got there. I thought I’d just check out the White House, but considering it would already be 7 p.m. by the time I got there, I’d probably just head back to my Arlington hotel straight away. Of course I didn’t. Of course I figured I’d just book it over to see one more site to make the trip that much more efficient. No map, no tour book, just one podcast of a “Walk in Washington” and I was off. Turns out it’s pretty hard to miss the monuments… because they’re bloody GARGANTUAN. I had no expectations of size and grandeur. I’m a Canadian; we build stuff humbly here (ok, except for a few obvious exceptions).  

I found the Mall and started my stroll. While I was watching the dodgeball game in one of the open spaces, I felt the sudden need to turn around. Given the extent to which I go through life with blinders on, this is really something people.

And there it was. The peen. Staring back at me.

*Shiver*

I know it’s the “Washington” monument, but given those two red lights at the top that blink like evil little eyes, watching and tracking your every movement, I can’t help but think there’s a certain VP right now who doesn’t need a little monumenting, especially since it’s so a propos in terms of overall sensation of fear and creepiness.

As I followed the path (that’s what I do, like a good little grrl), I then stumbled upon the Vietnam Memorial. I can’t even make fun of this one. It’s incredible in its seemingly politically-neutral yet painfully stark, simple message. All I can say is that pictures don’t do it justice.  

And then, to the Lincoln Memorial - but a stone’s throw from the Vietnam Memorial (alright, so you might have to be Peyton Manning to get that throw there, but you get my point). I kinda loved this one too, despite my well-formed and oft-discussed, er, issues with Americana in general. It’s size is ridiculous and that alone should have made me vomit with principled disgust. Thing is, I’m no stranger to a little drama and I definitely don’t shy away from someone else providing it to me in pure, spectacular form. So, instead of being offended by its enormity, I relished in it. I ran up those stairs to get to the spot where not only Martin Luther King, Jr had spoken of his dream, but where Reese Witherspoon had finally been accepted by the Hill staffers via the long-awaited non-harrassing snap cup. Sigh.

To the left of Lincoln is the Gettysburg Address and to the right, his second inaugural address. Lesson: The USA once had a very good reason to be patriotic. I get that now.  I also get why Ford wanted to create “the Lincoln.” Sturdy, strong, blah blah blah.

It was now getting very dark and while I’m generally not afraid of “stranger danger”, being in one of America’s most violent cities, I decided now might be a good time to remove my head from my ass (given that both were solo on this adventure) and book it to the metro at Foggy Bottom. The walk brought me past the infamous Snow Fence Monument, the State Department (barricaded, obviously) and through to the George Washington University campus, which is when I decided I need to go back to school, to GWU, at that campus.

Oh dear… so much more to write about. This is the problem with blogging… once I start, I cannot stop. I’ll work on a more concise entry encapsulating the rest of the trip for tomorrow.

After a few scoldings, both public and private, regarding my blog negligence of late, a (slightly scary but always lovely) co-worker suggested that I blog about a bizarre, yet amusing incident that occurred a few weeks ago. (more…)