I’m trying to be all healthy and active and whatnot

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dc chillin’, pg chillin’

I don’t know what I think about fate and powers greater than us and whatnot. I know that the universe is not something that I can comprehend but that sometimes it seems to work for a minute or two.

With me trying desperately to get out of the emotional k-hole that I had been in, the husband suggested last week that we take a quick trip down to D.C. There were a number of things that made it the perfect time to go: I had already planned to take a day off on Friday, two DJs that we like were playing there on Friday and Saturday, and the sister-in-law’s birthday was on Sunday. Unable to come up with a decent excuse not to (and believe me, I tried, because it’s too hard to wallow in unfamiliar environments), we set off on Friday afternoon after a stop at the baby’s school for a quick good-bye and supplies for his weekend with various grandmas.

We were there for less than 48 hours, but I haven’t had that good of a weekend in awhile. All we did was stay up all night, eat amazing food, and take naps.

Friday night, not long after finally arriving at my sister-in-law’s apartment, we headed to the Warehouse Loft to see Ron Trent. The space was really cool: dark, low-key, open, and an amazing view of the city. I had had to employ the tried-and-true vodka and Red Bull elixir since I had been up since 6:30 and the event was supposed to go until 4 a.m. I was a little rowdy, but mostly just danced and goofed off and tweeted things like


At the bar, the SIL and I met a guy named Ezra who hadn’t purchased enough drinks to close out his tab and offered to buy us some. I immediately invited him to come to Detroit with us in May. (Note: I am easy.) This round of drinks…if I were somehow in the position of instructing a blindfolded person how to pour it, I would probably tell them, “Okay, VOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOODKA redbull.” The sister-in-law provided much needed commentary on my reaction to this concoction.

Classy. However, we both agreed that this was still a better performance on our part than the time we went to some art thing downtown and I exited the bathroom proudly holding a drink that I had found on the sink, which we then shared while looking at a Blackberry that the SIL had found on a chair and intended to keep.

The husband and I were somewhat dismayed to realize that D.C. isn’t really a late-night kind of town. 24-hour eateries and ATMs were kind of scarce, but we did end up at Georgetown Cafe, where we had really REALLY good food, including the best chicken shawarma on the planet.

I spent part of the next day recovering but we headed out to Ray’s Hell-Burger in Arlington upon the insistence of the sister-in-law and her boyfriend. I’ve been thinking about the burger that I had there ever since and both the husband I resolved to never eat another burger ever again unless it’s at Ray’s. Or Five Guys. This is a good resolution, I think. We don’t eat burgers often, but this should keep us down to a strict allowance.

We had a really ridiculous encounter with one of DC’s notorious motorists. Some jackhole in an SUV attempted to merge/cut us off by just basically driving into the side of our car. We yelled and when the jackhole had an opportunity later to pull up beside us, he started screaming at us and then called us white trash because we had a donut on our wheel. We were actually on our way to the AAA to get our flat tire repaired. But, that guy was probably right. That nail found its way into our tire because we’re white trash. Nice attempt at insulting us without stopping to see if it would even be offensive. The husband sometimes seems to exist in between episodes of road rage, so the situation escalated and soon other motorists were cheering us on. I begged the husband to stop, noting that we were in DC and chances were good that the dude was a gun or finance lobbyist or something and could very well shoot us and/or manufacture some kind of foreclosure on our house.

Anyway, we went out to see Theo Parrish that night at…some place…that was like an ethnic club or something? It was near a lot of Dominican hair salons. It was fun and the space was also very cool. The crowd was weird. They seemed somewhat taken aback by the stuff Theo was playing, then a bunch of people left around 4:30 a.m., leaving the grimy devotees.

Sunday we went to Lebanese Taverna. My god. Also so amazingly good.

We managed to avoid any chaos that might have been present in the city because of the looming health care reform vote. It was weird to think of us just chilling on the sidelines while this big fucking deal went down (tip o’ the hat: Biden). Health care is a sensitive issue for me. I was on Medicaid when I had the baby because that was my only option. If we hadn’t had that…I can’t even begin to think how utterly ruined we would have been. I know that it’s complicated and it goes far beyond my anecdotes. Just…let’s try not to be assholes about something that people NEED, alright?

Anyway, the trip made me feel better. And spring is helping, too. Anytime that the husband and I get a chance to be on our own, I always feel super re-connected to the dude. I’m lucky. I know.

Me and the husband, who may or may not be from Pittsburgh. I can’t tell.

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