Workin' for the Weekend

Last weekend was splendid. 

Saturday, I woke up and had coffee on the porch with our new housemate, Talase, whilst reading a book I found in the house. It's travels in europe by Bill Bryson, who you may know as the author of A Walk in the Woods. It's a good book, a travel nonfiction, obviously. Nothing really compares to the imagery of Frances Mayes, but Bryson is funny. Even some laugh-out-loud moments, which are even more hysterical when they happen on the Metro.

But... back to the porch. I'm sittin' there, reading around 9:30am (which is sleeping in), and I realize: I have to include pics with every post. Even if they aren't my own. He is talking about Brussels, right. And all the cute shops and the weather and the town, etc. But I still had lingering questions. When I got to Paris, I knew exactly what was going on, what the sites were, the tourist attractions, etc. So, you are not here. You may have never been here. So, I must learn from Bryson's not-mistake-but-kind-of-mistake, and include the best description of the sites that I can (meaning pictures).

I started my day at Dupont Circle. I've been there before (it's actually where I do yoga), but never really had the chance to explore. I left the Metro and headed for nearby Kramerbooks & Afterwords. This place is quite a famous bookstore/café combo. Talase and others have recommended it. I was more interested in the books. I was, sadly, disappointed. Not in the selection, service, or ambiance. But it wasn't what I was expecting. I mistook local bookstore for used bookstore. Total difference. The whole  "Buy Local" trend is flippin' huge here. I was expecting a used bookstore, and it was just local one.

         

Let's face it. Used bookstores are the best. It's like the books have had a life of their own. The inscriptions, the highlights, the ripped and torn pages. I love it. And the stores are usually floor to ceiling. Just pack a bunch of books in a musty house, feel the parchment of the antique ones. That's how to appreciate a book.

I walked over to the circle with a new, fresh copy of Emma in my hand. I took a few pics, as you can see. I took some time to read and people watch. There is so much that is lovely about DuPont Park. You can hear the fountain, and all the traffic around you. It's like being in two places at once.

Over the hour or so that I spent there, there were two musical groups. One was a rather strange flute & guitar duo, and the second was two young fellas sharing a guitar and singing. They picked good rep though. "Why, Georgia, Why" is one of John Mayer's best ballads. There was also a magician, doing the tricks with the upside down cups. I never get magic tricks. Ever. But I guess that's okay. It means I still have some kind of childish innocence. There was also an artist sketching with charcoal. It's awe-inspiring to see people work like that. So much talent.

I also realized a few universals about DC Fountains: there are always ducks, you must put your feet in, and it is the best lunch spot.

Next, I strolled Dupont. Saw the neighborhood. Embassy row is not really a row, they're spread out all up and down the streets (which are so not on a grid). Someday. I will have money, and I will work at a museum, and I will live in Dupont. The houses are all so classy and different. So charming. But I'd settle for a condo. :P

After wandering around for a good bit, I found the Spanish Steps. They are just a cute little hidden treasure in DC. Not many people discover them. They were recently renovated, and now small concerts are held there sometimes. I met an older lady there. We bonded over Nikons. If I'm alone at 65, let me still be happily taking pretty pictures with my Nikon.

Then I went down to the National Geographic Museum. Quite wonderful. I checked out some unpublished pics from last year, and then went to the exhibit about the Race to the South Pole. There is this whole story of how it was the Norwegians vs. the Brits. Long story short: the Norwegians won. At first I was sad (I'm English if you didn't know). But then I realized why the Norwegians won. Because Amundsen, the Norwegian leader dude, was relentless. He took the guys there without telling where they were going. He was sneaky. Smart, but sneaky. The English were doing it for their country. Amundsen did it for the glory.

I also learned about Adélie Penguins, named after Adele, the wife of the dude who discovered them (don't actually remember his name). It's kind of ironic, isn't it. Considering it's the dude penguins who care for the egg & keep it warm.

I stopped by St. Matthew's Cathedral before heading home. Said a prayer, lit a candle, looked at the ceiling. Smelled the Cathedral smell. Incensical. It was Confession time, so a good number of people were there.

Then, it was homeward bound for the night. I missed the fam, especially Winston. It was the first time in 6 months that I had been in the 804. All I can say is that I remembered why I hated high school and hated the 804, but why I go back. The fam. <3