Still in DC.

My husband is pissed off that I didn't expound more upon the evening in question in my earlier post. When I was typing out that post, my stomach was still turning and my head was still spinning. So writing about how I was puking and dying really wasn't gonna be fun to recall. Dummy. I told him he could have the forum at a later date if he so chose. We shall see.

Thursday evening, Fyrchk went with us to dinner at a tapas-style place. Good food, place was totally loud, so we heard ... um, nothing. The other party with us said we weren't too far from the hotel, 'we' meaning 'they' decided to walk back. Apparently, not a great place to be walking at night, Fyrchk got tons of blisters on her feet, and it took almost 45 minutes to get back. That's not a short walk, and that shit won't happen again.

Friday ... Fyrchk stayed at her house because her feet had fallen off the night before. I met a friend (who is attending the meeting as well) up at the street, walked to the Library of Congress, down the mall, cabbed it to Georgetown, had lunch at a great place there. I also went to use the restroom, and a woman was coming out. She was wearing a nice business suit kind of thing. I look in, and there is pee all over the seat, a puddle on the floor, and what made it into the bowl hadn't been flushed. I yelled some choice words at her as she scurried away. FLUSH DAMMIT!! CLEAN UP YOUR OWN PISS!!! Honestly.

Then, we headed to the Vietnam Memorial, the World War 2 Memorial and the Lincoln Memorial. And by now, my legs are falling off and my feet are hurting. Upon returning to the hotel, I take off my shoes to find out my socks now have holes in them. And where the holes are now are blisters. Blisters suck.

HDH and I went to dinner together last night at a great Italian place, stuffed ourselves silly, came home, he went to bed and I watched a movie on television. You know, livin' large and all.

And this morning, we are about to head back out and check out one or more of the Smithsonians. Before the wind and rain hit, too. Tonight, a concert I shall post about later ....

Labels: DC, vacation

I am in DC.

Highlights thus far:

1. The night before, HDHusband tells me he has a toothache and might not make the trip to DC after all. Wakes up in the morning and all is well, thanks to antibiotics and pain meds.

2. Flight is relatively uneventful, except for someone in the row ahead of us who is letting out the spicy burps. GOD AWFUL. But, I got to read my Rolling Stone magazine and listen to my MP3 player - all big things, when you aren't traveling with a toddler in tow.

3. Arrive at hotel, make reservations and head out to Restaurant Nora's. Had a fantastic dinner (all organic, really good stuff) and cabbed it back to hotel.

4. Decide to have nightcap at the hotel bar with HDH. Creepy Dude sidles up, drunk, buys us another round and gives me a toast "in Swedish". What the fuck did he say? Something about "flowers, roses and fucking", he says. Tells me his name is "Derek, you know, like Bo". And then asked if I wanted to hear the toast in Finnish. Nope, no thanks.

5. Come back up to the room, and it's a baaaaaaaaaaaaad thing. I'm wasted, apparently. Of course, my husband's version of the story is much better. And maybe when I'm nice, I'll let him tell it on said blog. To summarize (in his words): "you were driving the porcelain bus". Yuck. HATE THAT. I also came up with a few 'rules' that shall only be repeated in private to friends. GOOD LORD. Never agin. Ever.

6. This morning, hungover. Bad.

Ordered in, got ready, met up with FYRCHK. YAAAAAAY!!! Mama!!

7. Went into Virginia, had lunch with IFyrchk, HDH and IrishFyrGirl, saw Fyr's cute apartment, met her dad and ADORALBE dog, and saw the battlefield .... which made my husband extremely giddy. Oh, and my husband also recounted to Fyrchk and IrishFyrGirl the debauchery that was last night, and Fyrchk laughed so hard she cried.

8. Came back to hotel with Frychk, and we will be going to dinner shortly with a group o' folks. I feel much less like death and ready to have a good time again.

I hate hangovers.

Chocolate martini's are the devil.

Labels: chocolate martini's are the devill, DC, fyrchk, vacation