cherry blossom season is

Cherry blossom season is...

...long walks until your feet are sore because your eyes and heart can't turn away from the view
...sake and snacks on a blanket on the grass
...photo shoots
...green tea flavored ice cream
...the Jefferson Memorial, framed just so
...fleeting
...hopeful, new beginnings, fresh starts
...gratitude for new warmth
...a short-lived sunburn, just enough to prepare the body and mind for the summer to come
...friends, experiencing it together for the first or fiftieth time
...paddle boating 
...ice cream and short naps under oversized trees
...the kintai bridge in yamaguchi, japan
...the national mall
spring. 

capitol cutups

A Mormon missionary from Ohio attending the Conservative Political Action Conference (CPAC) in DC noticed Zan's Wittenberg University jacket and struck up a conversation.

I can't figure out where to take this blog post from that little snippet of memory, but I felt like it had to be documented somewhere. I would have ignored the guy, if I'm honest. I have little patience for being proselytized with religion or conservative rhetoric - call it a casualty of growing up in in the deep south. Zan didn't. In fact, they talked for so long the lanky college kid who swam in his suit jacket had to sprint to catch up with his group.

While they talked, Zan reminiscing about his old college stomping grounds, I leaned over backwards with my camera in my hands, my back arching just as far as it could and shot pictures of the National Mall upside down.

A family asked us to snap their picture in front of the Capitol Building.

Zan and I took turns planking in front of the Capitol steps, taking pictures of each other - "Just one more!" - to see how long the other could last.

We took pictures of ourselves, trying to get the Washington Monument right in between us, and failing every time. 

It was that one rare sunshiney day in the midst of a never-ending winter.

I'd wanted to go hiking, but after a book club brunch, and a walk through Eastern Market, we said why not just walk some more right here? And we took off to the Capitol, my camera in tow, and it was just as good - if not better - than our original plans. 

I could use 100 more of these days, and then 100 more. With the sun shining, and laughter in our eyes, and a willingness to goof off on the steps of the Capitol Building, proud to live in this city and call it home.

That kid from Wittenberg. I think he stuck in my mind from that day because this whole career of mine that's right in front of me - just two short years away - it's rooted in being open-minded and willing to listen, even when everything in me wants to walk away. Zan wasn't just diplomatic, and he didn't just patiently deal with the kid. He really engaged and listened and enjoyed talking to him, differences and all. That's what true diplomacy is all about. Hell, that kind of dialogue is just the thing we need in that beautiful, tall dome we call the Capitol.

the ship of fools

A few weekends ago, Zan and I didn't get up and moving until 1:30pm. What can I say? Pajamas, naps, homemade breakfast, and the call of the TV (ahem, House of Cards) have all been so tantalizing this winter. We haven't resisted the urge to nest. Anyway, we finally swapped out pajama pants for socially acceptable ones and hopped in Zan's truck.

With no real plans and it being a little too late in the afternoon to head out to wineries (our typical go-to on Saturdays with no plans), I suggested we check out a few lesser known tourist spots that neither of us had seen - a pretty incredible feat given that Zan grew up here!

I recently wrote a feature for Viator.com on 30 Unique Things To Do in DC. It turned out to be shockingly easy to write - it took me a mere 10-15 minutes to come up with the list of 30 things. Most of them I'd done, but there were a handful that I'd only heard rumors of... and it was time to change that.

So we headed across town to the Southwest Waterfront to see the Titanic Memorial. This statue, dedicated to the brave men who lost their lives so that women and children could be saved (because of too few life rafts, if you haven't seen the movie.... er, know the history!), depicts a women with her arms outstretched into the wind. It looks exactly like the iconic scene in the movie Titanic with Jack and Rose at the helm of the ship.

And here's where I have a giant, nerdy confession to make: I saw the movie five times in theaters. Five! I saw it so many times that my mom started to think that maybe I was pulling one over on her and was up to all kinds of teenage rebellion. Years later, she admitted that the 5th time I went, she followed me to the theater and poked her head in to see if I was really there. And there I was, sipping on a soda and mouthing the words because at that point I could quote the whole damn thing. I have an inkling she was hopeful I really was up to some old fashioned trouble making and not really seeing a movie for the fifth time... (Can we also talk about how I would not have used the same excuse 5 times in a row if I were really sneaking out and making out with boys?!)

With all that embarrassment on the table, I probably don't need to say that I loved it. It was cheesy, fun, and honestly? A beautiful monument. The sun was shining just right. The water was iced over - and that was kind of perfect when you're visiting a Titanic memorial... if not a bit morbid and sad.

I definitely quoted a monologue, downloaded "My Heart Will Go On" and had Zander film the whole scene. I know. I really thought about posting it here, but some things... Let's just say Zan and my mom have enough teasing fodder to last a lifetime.

Then we drove all the way up to Georgetown to play on the giant green Adirondack chair on the lawn of Duke Ellington School of the Arts. If I ever have kids in the city, that's where I'm taking them for play time. Who needs a jungle gym when there's an oversize chair?!

I get so caught up in being a local, and redefining that for myself with every new trend, restaurant, and up-and-coming neighborhood, that I sometimes forget how great it is to be a tourist. Especially when the attractions are little hidden gems in the nooks and crannies of this beloved city of mine.

theo and a neighborly snowman

I'm bundled up on my couch in leggings and a Huskers sweatshirt from my college days. I'm watching the rain/sleet/snow come down outside. I just remembered that I re-heated my tea, and it's still in the microwave... an hour later. I think it's time to just make a fresh cup, no?

I had some work to get done this morning, but it only took me an hour... if I subtract the time I spent distracted by Anthony Bourdain's episode of "No Reservations" in Hokkaido, the end of Step Up Revolution, and a goal or two of Olympics hockey. It has been that kind of snow day - slow but going by too quickly. After I met my work deadline, I bundled up, put Theo on his leash, and we braved the snow.

There is a lot of snow in upper northwest DC! I'm a horrible guesser, and it felt like a solid five feet, but it's probably more like 10 inches. The snow comes up to Theo's stomach (kind of adorable), but that dog of mine is fearless and has an insatiable sense of adventure. Sometimes I watch him and think there really is something to that fate thing; we were meant for each other.

I have a few things I should get done - like sort out utilities for this month, put the finishing touches on Zan's Valentine's Day gift, and get ahead on freelance work... but for right this minute I think I'll make that cup of hot tea and finish an episode of House of Cards.

Tomorrow, Zan and I are leaving for a long weekend to...?! I have no idea! He has big plans, and all I know is that we have to be where we have to be at 11:30am. I can't wait to find out what he has up his sleeve. We could be spending the whole day seeing movies in the city, and I'd be the happiest camper. The surprise itself is the magic.

I hope you and yours are safe, warm, and enjoying the snow (if you have any) as much as Theo.

where to eat in dc | the red hen

Zan and I spent the afternoon in Georgetown. We didn’t get out of bed until 11, and then we lounged in sweatpants on the couch until 12:30, when Zan went back to bed for a nap. By 2:00pm we were finally dressed and ready to escape cabin fever before it set in. We found parking on a side street right off of Wisconsin Avenue – and somehow, I’m going to jinx us by saying this – we always find parking right there, at just about the same spot, every time we go to Georgetown. It’s a small huge Saturday gift.

We wandered through Frye and Patagonia with no place to be – sipping hot drinks and breathing in the smell of possibilities. Every time I’m in a Patagonia, I feel more adventurous, more sporty, more fit. That’s incredible branding.

Eventually, we made our way to the movie theater (but not without stopping first at the Spice and Tea Exchange for fresh thyme and garlic). We saw Her and talked endlessly after about the beautiful, sticks-with-you script. After, we debated where to go for dinner, but it was never really a question. So we drove all the way across town to my old neighborhood, Bloomingdale, for dinner at the newest “it” spot: The Red Hen.

We got there after 8:30 – a late dinner – and still there was a 2 hour wait for a table. We opted to sit at the bar instead and still waited 40 minutes for seats. I sipped on Prosecco as Zan rotated through nearly their entire list of orange wines. I’ve never seen a wine list with so many orange options. It’s such a funky wine – every one I’ve ever tried – but I dig it.

When we finally got seats, we didn’t waste time putting in our order. We shared a bottle of our favorite of the orange wines and started the meal with a beet salad for him and the Brussels sprouts for me. I don’t usually like beet salads, but the mint and caper vinaigrette kept me coming back for a few more bites. The Brussels were crispy with dill and an anchovy aioli. I wasn’t sure what to think when I read the description, but it goes to show I should think less and try more. They were delicious.

For our main courses, I was torn between several but had to try the much-raved about rigatoni with fennel sausage. I’ve seen it listed as one of the best dishes in DC on several local sites. After my first bite, I described it to Zan as, “better than I could make at home!” Reading that back now, I’m laughing, but I make homemade sauces and cook with Italian sausage so often that I have it down to an art form (for my taste buds at least!). I struggle ordering pasta at restaurants because I always think I could recreate it and should try something I can’t cook on my own. This dish blew anything I could even attempt out of the water.

Zan tried the grilled short ribs with “potato puree.” So he had ribs and mashed potatoes. It was beautifully presented and so deep with flavor that it deserves the fancier name. We finished our bottle of wine for dessert.

It was such a fun dinner. Lately, with so much stress from studying for the GRE and applying to grad school, traveling, and getting his place ready to rent behind us, we’ve been having so much fun together. Fun like we don’t have a care in the world. We may not get many times in life to feel so care-free, and I’m relishing every second of it.

It didn’t hurt that The Red Hen is completely beautiful with an atmosphere that demands care-free fun. The bar is a wide, open arc. The wood fire stove is visible from any spot in the whole place. It smells of homemade sauces and rich meats. It’s romantic without trying too hard to be so. It feels organic, just like the Saturdays we’ve been having lately.

welcome to the monster jam

When I saw that Monster Jam was in town at the Verizon Center, I laughed out loud. Giant trucks demolishing smaller trucks and roaring through an arena that suddenly seems small in their larger-than-life presence? Wasting fuel with all that engine revving? And boys upon men upon guys decked out in camo gear and tacky t-shirts repping their favorite truck (and who knew the trucks had names? and personalities?!)? None of it was me - and all of it stirred something in my deep down Georgia roots that made me feel alive, and that's what made it so irresistible.

After the last six months of filling my life to overflowing with applying to graduate school, and the last few weeks of painting Zan's place and writing Craiglist ads and thinking non-stop about how in the world to get it rented for what we need to rent it for... it seemed like nothing in the world would be more satisfying than watching trucks with wheels taller than me crush things. It was kind of my own therapy session.

I drank a vodka cranberry and dabbed wet tissue to the fake ink on my chest and on Zan's neck and straight up enjoyed overpriced drinks and picked a favorite truck -the Crushstation! We ate fried food and filled the lulls in the show with banter with our friends and felt so glad we have the kind that embrace the silly, fun bits of life with all they got.

The Monster Jam was completely ridiculous, and 4 trucks out of the 6 broke down (seeing one stuck on the piles of cars was kind of a highlight?). It felt good to laugh at the antics and aggression of it all, and that was worth the ping of a vodka headache and rawness of a throat that cheered all night the next morning.

the scenic route to old town alexandria | 2

Zander would wait for me a quarter mile ahead while I slowpoked my way, seeing the blaze of colors with my camera lens wide open. I caught up to him before we crossed the bridge, and he pointed and drew my attention to the west, where the sun, a fading spark of yellow, was hugged tight between a shifting canvas with shades of orange and pink and baby blue. Even with the occasional distance between us, cycling back from Old Town Alexandria to home was one of our most romantic dates yet.

the scenic route to old town alexandria | 1

I've been romanticizing Old Town Alexandria. There are all sorts of historical tours, Robert E. Lee's childhood home is there, and I envisioned it would be rustic, charming, and a veritable time machine to another era in the region's past. I was sorely disappointed when I realized it's a mirror image of Georgetown, complete with the same retail-therapy lined main streets and converted old buildings into restaurants and pubs (with a few vague ghost stories attached). Although it wasn't quite what I hoped for, I did still marvel at the stunning rowhouses and quaint tree-lined backstreets.

But the best part of Alexandria, by far, was the journey out there. Zan and I have been talking about cycling out there for a while. A few weekends ago, we pushed ourselves out of bed a little earlier than normal on a Saturday morning, grabbed some coffee (him) and tea (me) and started cycling. Round trip, it's about 26 miles, and every inch of it is beautiful. From Cleveland Park, we took trails in Rock Creek Park down to the edge of the mall by the Lincoln Memorial, After crossing over Arlington Bridge, we navigated onto the Mt. Vernon trail and rode that all the way into Alexandria. 

We saw the last remnants of glorious fall foliage, made a pit stop at Gravelly Point Park to watch planes take off from Washington-National airport, and crossed over a rickety wooden bridge that made me swoon. Wisps of cottontails greeted us. Drifting leaves lazily floated by us as we rode. A swampy area with reeds and woods and birds singing a final fall song called for me to pause to take it all in. 

And as hard of a time as I'm giving Alexandria, I loved spending time in the Spice and Tea Exchange, where I nearly bought them out of spices and teas. And we enjoyed hot apple cider from a local coffeeshop we found tucked away on a backstreet. We devoured lunch in a converted historic building, and we lit up walking down the sidewalks already ablaze with twinkling holiday lights and music. 

I used to be such a fast traveler - packing in as much as possible in the short time I had. These days, I savor slowness, reaching a new city on bike or foot, seeing every detail in high definition that's usually a blur by car.

a catholic & 2 baptists walk into the national cathedral

I asked my mom what she wanted to see and do while she was in DC, and she said, "I want to see you and spend time with you." I wrote up a rough itinerary for her visit anyway, to make sure we had time to see the White House and all the monuments on the National Mall, and eat at a favorite restaurant or two, meet friends, and I threw some shopping in, as well. But when Zan and I picked her up at midnight on Wednesday night before Thanksgiving, and we stayed up catching up until 4 in the morning, I scratched that to-do list and made a new one: laugh with her, listen to her, share with her, enjoy her, love her.

And so by the time she boarded her plane - just minutes ago - the only tourist site we'd really seen was the National Cathedral. But we'd crossed off our entire to-do list 10 times over.

if you go...

The National Cathedral

Donation of $10/person recommended

Tip: It's built on the highest point in DC

Take the elevator to the top floor for spectacular views over the city