Firsts

This weekend contained a few firsts for me.
1. First trip to the Eastern Shore.
2. First time on a boardwalk.
3. First time to shoot tequila and not end the night in tears.

I skipped out of work a little early on Friday to make the trek to O.C. with The Misogynist. I made up my mind before departing that I would maintain a positive attitude despite whatever traffic horrors I had to endure. After the first three hours of pretty much sitting parked on various roadways, it was smooth sailing.

I was happy to be able to drive (kinda) fast, roll my windows down, turn my music up, and sing at the top of my lungs without worrying about breaking the windows in the cars next to me with my mad vocal skillz. The first weeks of nice weather always make me want to drive with speed and without aim. That was never a problem when I lived at the Southern Homestead or in The Black Hole. Around here, it's an entirely different prospect.

While I did maintain the upbeat mood I'd promised myself, I was made much more aware of the trials and tribulations of Average Joe Commuter in these parts. If I had to deal with that B.S. on the regular, I'd become homicidal in no time.

We got to O.C. and found a nice little dive called Kirby's. We had some good seafood and some hilarious, entertaining, and blog-inspiring* conversations with the people around us. Good conversation with The Misogynist and deep sleep followed.

We got up Saturday morning, which was gorgeous weather-wise, and made our way to the boardwalk. Happily, the crowd was thin. I had to get my feet in the freezing water, just to be able to say I'd done it. We walked down the beach for a bit and stumbled upon what appeared to be an homage to yours truly written lovingly in the sand. I had to have some photographic evidence.**

After we meandered back down the boardwalk and stopped into a few stores (including Ocean Gallery, pictured at right, which I couldn't not go in), I left The Misogynist and headed back to the District to celebrate a landmark event in Travel Buddy's life. In keeping with the spirit of Cinco de Mayo, we started with margaritas at Alero and moved on over to Adams Morgan. (It was still pretty early, so the hoards of dickheads and asshats hadn't arrived. I told Travel Buddy we had to beat it out of there before anyone started vomiting on the street.)

We continued the Cinco de Mayo theme with shots of 1800*** but threw in some mint juleps to join in the derby festivities. A dangerous mixture, I know, but I'm glad to report that neither of us suffered for it. After the sun went down and the crowds started to emerge, we booked it back to Dupont and stopped in at the Front Page for one more drink before ending the evening watching some early-'90s Eddie Izzard at Travel Buddy's place.

I headed home after a mediocre brunch at Mimi's (did they sell the place or something? It just isn't the same...) and actually got a few things accomplished**** before crashing last night.

All in all, an excellent weekend.



* Posts to follow.
** Okay, okay. So it originally said "Bella" and I changed the "e" with my foot. Close enough, right?
*** I haven't had a shot of tequila in many years because it always makes me cry. This time, I didn't even come close to tears. Yay for small accomplishments. **** Not the least of which was arranging the magnetic poetry on our fridge by parts of speech, with much help from Roommate (and not a little from the Internets).