little black journal

When Shane told me that his job was sending him to Las Vegas for a few days for a conference and asked me if I’d like to tag along, I thought…Vegas?  I had a fabulous time when I got to tag along during the same conference in San Francisco two years ago, but…Vegas?  I was there ten years ago and if memory served me correctly, I really wouldn’t fit in there – I don’t know the first thing about gambling, I don’t own a miniskirt or 6-inch heels, and I don’t think I have the stomach for a prime rib buffet.  But far be it from me to turn down the promise of sunshine and poolside cocktails, so I grabbed my highest-SPF sunscreen, unearthed every swimsuit I own from the depths of my dresser, and I was officially on board.

From the moment our taxi dropped us off at the Palazzo, we were both a bit overwhelmed.  The scale of everything was so much grander than what we’re used to seeing – hotel lobbies with 50-foot ceilings, huge casino floors packed with slot machines and black jack tables and ladies in tight dresses walking by with trays of cocktails, and hotel corridors that felt like they stretched on forever.  Add to that a confusing mix of sensory deprivation and sensory overload – while indoors, you typically don’t have access to daylight or fresh air, but at the same time, your senses are flooded with a myriad of sounds, with flashing lights, conditioned air, and the presence of so many people.   It was a lot to take in.  But we were bound to make the most of our Nevadan adventure, and so while Shane checked into our room, I ran across the street to the same-day discount ticket booth to see if I could score us seats for a show that evening.  I came back with tickets to Le Reve and Shane and I made our way to our beautiful hotel suite – looked like Vegas was going to be A-OK.

We spent the rest of the afternoon taking refuge from the heat inside the gigantic hotel/shopping/restaurant complex that is the Palazzo/Venetian, and then swimming at the luxurious hotel pool.

We grabbed a quick bite before the show and then made our way over to the Wynn for the show.  From the moment we walked into the theater, with its brightly patterned tented ceiling and circular rows of seats that surrounded a blue, misty pool, we knew we were in for something special.  And Le Reve certainly did not disappoint – stunning costumes, gasp-inducing acrobatics, and surprises around every corner, as people in sea-monster costumes crawled out from the aisles and ladies in sequined costumes were dropped from one hundred feet in the air into the pool below.  It was exactly what you would expect from Vegas – flashy, bold, and over-the-top.

We turned in early that night, as I was feeling a little under the weather and wanted to rest up for a day full of sight-seeing and sun-soaking.  Unfortunately, I woke up Monday morning feeling achy and feverish, with some kind of flu.  I ventured out in the morning in search of a healthy breakfast (which was nowhere to be found) and snapped a few pictures while on the Strip.  Somewhere between the canals of the Venetian and the Venus de Milo at Caesars Palace, I really started to wonder at the alternate universe that is Vegas.  There’s just so much…faux.  Everything is a replica of something else, from the miniature Eiffel Tower to the funky Corinthian columns.

My sore throat and achy bones, along with the rapidly rising temperatures (which topped out at 109 degrees that day – yikes!), soon drove me back to our room, where I contentedly spent most of the afternoon watching TV in our plush and comfy bed, deciding I had just enough energy to head down the pool and stake my claim on one of the lounge chairs in pool for a couple of hours (yes – they put lounge chairs in the really shallow portion of the pool, so you can enjoy the sun while being half-submerged in the water…brilliant!).

We had a nice dinner at Le Cave that night, and once again, I turned in early…In a city known for its nightlife.  Did I mention I wasn’t Vegas material?

By Tuesday, I was feeling much better and figured all I needed to get me back to 100% was a fruit smoothie and a couple hours of retail therapy.  I spent the morning cruising around Fashion Show Mall with my Jamba Juice in hand, scoring a couple of good deals before heading back to the hotel for an afternoon of poolside lounging.  Shane got away from the conference a little early and was able to join me for a swim.  I camped out there all afternoon with my book, working on my tan and finally feeling like I was getting on board with the whole Vegas vacation thing.  It was a great day – completely relaxing, worry-free, and self-indulgent.  Tuesday night was our last night to really live it up, since I had a Wednesday morning flight back to Seattle, and so we headed out in search of lights, luck, and liquor.  The Strip is insane at night time – people crowd the sidewalks, spilling out of the casinos and bars, lights and music seem to radiate from every surface.

Determined to take it all in, we walked as far as the Bellagio and caught the famed fountain show.  It was indeed impressive – and as a bonus, the spray from the fountains provided some momentary relief from the heat!

From there, we meandered back toward the Palazzo, stopping in a couple of casinos to test our luck.  Turns out I am decidedly unlucky.  Shane cut me off after a pretty sad streak at the slots, and then I watched him walk away from video blackjack with his shoulders slumped.  To his credit, he did make the three dollars I had in my pocket last for nearly half an hour, and he had tripled his money at one point, but apparently he has yet to learn when to quit, and so we both walked away without any of our meager gambling allowance.  We found solace at the bar of Table 10, in my glass of wine and Shane’s shot of quality bourbon.  And so all was not lost – we’d still enjoyed a fun night out on the town, and I had managed, on my last night in Vegas, to stay up past 10 pm.

The verdict:  as much I loved my afternoons by the pool, and as grateful as I am for the chance we had to experience something new, I doubt we’ll head back to Sin City anytime soon.  It’s just not our scene.  At least, not until I find the courage to replace my Gap sundress with something more like this…

If there is any truth to the phrase ‘too much of a good thing’, we tested its limits in Chicago – our final day there was full of more amazing sights, flavors, etc… We jumpstarted the day with coffee at another Intellegentsia Cafe – this one on the ground floor of the Monadnock Building. To most you, this building’s name won’t ring a bell, but for those of you that suffered through third-year architectural history with me, you’ll know that this is the tallest load-bearing masonry building in America, with masonry walls as much as six feet thick at its base. Fascinating, no?

Post-lattes, we spent a little time wandering around the neighborhood – this was one of my favorite areas of Chicago, with so many beautiful old masonry buildings of different colors and patterns. I walked around in an urban daze, my eyes continually pulled upward to buildings that frame the canyon-like streets.

And I love the juxtaposition of old and new – I was thrilled when we came upon the Spertus Institute, a new building made famous by its faceted curtainwall. It’s exciting to be able to experience first-hand the architecture I’ve admired in magazines and design blogs, and I was totally enamored with this building – Shane had to go grab a seat at the nearby park while I walked back and forth at the base of the facade, wanting to understand every little angle and reflection.

The weather was good, but rain clouds hovered in the distance, so we decided to take advantage of what might be our final hour of sunshine and grab lunch at a sidewalk table at The Gage on Michigan Avenue. Our pork-intensive week had me craving vegetables, and this beautiful beet salad totally hit the spot.

Energized by our veggie-rich lunch (or was it the beer?), we headed over the Art Institute of Chicago for a serious art fix. I wasn’t sure what to expect, since I’d been a little disappointed by the previous day’s museum, but figured the trip would be worth a shot – if nothing else, I wanted to check out the renovation of the Modern Art wing, designed by one of my favorite architects. Holy. Cow. I had no idea what we were in for – the contemporary collection far exceeded my expectations with several pieces by my favorite artists. Giacometti, Dubuffet, Rauschenberg, and the list goes on. And the space was beautiful – there’s a reason they call Renzo Piano a master of light.

After a couple of hours of wandering through the galleries, we started to experience art fatigue, and so we called it a day at the museum and headed out to Millennium Park. This park might be one of my favorite things about the city – the public art is amazing (seriously, how cool is the Bean?), and the variety of spaces provide something for everyone, whether you want to people-watch at the Crown Fountain, or sit on a quiet bench, or stretch out on the lawn. Plus, the tulips are in full bloom in Chicago, allowing for these amazing little patches of color along the park’s edges.

After taking one last spin through the park, we headed back toward our hotel, stopping briefly at the Aqua Tower to snap a few photos – more architectural eye candy…

We had late-night dinner reservations and several hours to kill until then, so after resting up back at the room for awhile, we decided to take a leisurely stroll in the direction of the restaurant, figuring we could probably find a bar or two that could fill our time until 10. Our wandering landed us at The Bull and Bear, where we ordered a couple of beers and caught some of the basketball game. From there, we walked south of the river, pausing often to enjoy the city at night, in all of its lit-up glory.

A short bus-ride landed us right across the street from the restaurant, but being that we still had an hour to kill, we headed into Haymarket Brewery to grab one more drink, and see if Chicago’s microbrews had anything on our Northwest favorites. We had a good time, but I will say that I remain partial to Manny’s… Finally, the moment we’d been waiting for arrived and we headed over to The Girl and the Goat to grab our table. Shane made these reservations nearly two months ago, as this place has been making quite a buzz and can be rather hard to get into. I’m sure its fame is largely due to the fact that it was started by Top Chef Season 4 winner Stephanie Izard, but after enjoying our meal, we can confirm that its popularity is legit. The chickpea fritters melt in your mouth; the goat and veal sugo is rich and meaty, but perfectly lightened with the addition of sweet, juicy gooseberries; and the roasted pig face topped with a sunny-side egg is…unusual (Shane loved this dish, but I think jury’s still out on this one). Throw in a couple of oh-my-gosh rich desserts, and we left there with some pretty huge grins on our faces. However, I was only smiling until I realized just how sickeningly full I was – I suppose ‘too much of a good thing’ really does have some truth to it… Nonetheless, it was a meal we’ll always remember and a perfect way to end our decadent tour of Chicago.

Next up on our Midwestern vacation: 24 hours in Minneapolis!

I was up early(ish) this morning to start the day at the hotel’s fitness center, knowing that we had another calorie-rich day ahead of us – and wowsers, glad I thought ahead… First on the docket was brunch at Publican, a relatively new restaurant just west of the river. From our little table in the corner of the open, airy dining room, we feasted on pecan sticky buns, asparagus frittata, and a fluffy, pork-topped omelette. When the waiter asked if we’d like to add a side of bacon, Shane nodded his head enthusiastically. Let me say, ‘thick-cut’ bacon has an entirely new meaning now – by ‘side of bacon’, I think the waiter meant ‘side of a pig’. This stuff was insane! But since we’re on vacation, and since it makes Shane smile, I won’t regret the indulgence.

After lunch, we took a short walk around the neighborhood, enjoying the industrial vibe of the street, with its low-rise brick buildings, topped with old wooden water towers.

From there, we took a bus over the Chicago Museum of Contemporary Art, where we spent an hour wandering through the galleries. The current Jim Nutt exhibit was not super-engaging for me, but I did come across one of my favorite Francis Bacon paintings, so the visit was well worth our time.

Post-museum, we grabbed a table at a sidewalk cafe where we could enjoy a cup of coffee and a good dose of sunshine – the weather today was perfect, almost as if making up for the drizzle we endured at the ballgame yesterday. Fueled with caffeine and Vitamin D, we made our way to Navy Pier, to catch our boat for the Chicago River architectural tour. This was the highlight of our day – totally relaxing, totally fascinating, and just a perfect way to take in the city on a sunny afternoon. I had visions of Shane and I slow dancing at the back of the boat, a la Julie Roberts and Dylan McDermott in ‘My Best Friend’s Wedding’, but apparently they discourage standing while the vessel is in motion. Hmph. Nonetheless, we saw some really beautiful buildings and learned a ton about Chicago’s history.

After our cruise, we strolled down Michigan Avenue, popping into a few stores and taking in ‘The Magnificent Mile’. Our walk landed us at the base of the John Hancock building, which Shane heard has a cool bar on the 96th floor with amazing panoramic views of the city. How incredibly convenient! And so we hopped in the elevator, snagged a couple of seats by a window, and ordered our drinks. Shane’s martini wasn’t quite up to his standards, but we were able to overlook that fact for the sake of the view.

And check out the perspective from the women’s restroom – I kid you not!

By the time we left the bar, we were hungry – our decision to skip lunch was intentional, as we knew that tonight was the night that we would set out for Chicago’s best deep-dish pizza. Shane had done extensive polling of anyone we knew who had lived in Chicago, and we settled on Lou Malnati’s as our joint. We were given a table by the window and promptly ordered their classic pizza, with sausage, cheese, and tomatoes. We hungrily dug in when it arrived, and although the deep-dish is no match for our beloved Tutta Bella thin-crust, it hit the spot. It also did us in – our plans of hitting up one more cocktail bar were dashed when I thought about how nice it would be to get back to the room, put on my stretchy pants, and veg out. And so we ended our night watching basketball from our comfy hotel bed. Yes, these are the things vacations are made of.

After a lazy morning (my definition of vacation includes not having to set an alarm clock), we set out in search of good coffee to fuel us for our first full day in the city. Our quest landed us at Intelligentsia, where I happily sipped through my double latte while taking a peek at Chicago’s hipster population – they were no match for Seattle’s Vivace crowd, but I suppose that’s to be expected. From there, we were bound for Wrigley Field, with tickets for a noontime Cubs v. Reds game. As we popped off the L and walked toward the ballpark, I was immediately struck by the infectious excitement that surrounds a Saturday afternoon ballgame. Ticket scalpers, peanut vendors, and hyped-up fans spilling onto the sidewalks from crowded bars told us that we had landed in the center of the action. The buzz of being surrounded by so many tried-and-true baseball fans carried me through the first few innings, despite the chill in the air and the occasional drizzle. My enthusiasm started to wane as the rain fell harder and the Reds took a 2-1 lead over the Cubs. I asked Shane how committed he was to watching the whole game, and he encouraged me to stick it out. And thank goodness I did! The Cubs came back in the 9th to win the game, and despite the fact that I am still 100 percent loyal to my SF Giants, I couldn’t help jumping out of my seat, shouting and clapping my hands, giving high-fives to the joyous fans surrounding us. It’s fun to get so unexpectedly swept up in a moment, and we left the ballpark with huge grins on our faces, unable to help ourselves from singing along in the chorus, ‘Go Cubs Go, Go Cubs Go, Hey Chicago, what do you say, The Cubs are gonna win today!’…

After the game, we grabbed a cup of tea and headed back to our room to warm up and sneak in a little nap before dinner. Dried out and refreshed, we decided to hit up Xoco – a highly reputed Mexican restaurant started by famed chef Rick Bayless. And holy carnitas, Batman, this place was delicious! My red chile short rib soup was one of the best meals I’ve had in a long time, and Shane nearly fell out of his chair over his goat barbacoa torta. Even the chips and guacamole were perfection. I give Shane major, major props for scouting out some of this city’s best eats. I married one heck of a trip planner.

After a dessert of churros and chocolate, we rolled ourselves out of the restaurant and decided to do a little walking, in hopes of settling our over-stuffed stomachs. We strolled along the river, walked through Milleneum Park, found the brightly lit Chicago sign that I’m sure every tourist (myself included, apparently) uses as a backdrop for a photo, and decided that this city is…amazing.

Shane will say that I tend to get all gushy whenever I visit a place for the first time, but seriously, this place is so rich with old and new architecture (more on that later), with neighborhood dive bars right next to uber-chic restaurants, with what feels like the perfect balance of ‘urban grit’ and modern polish. Our hour-long meander through the city was full of so many good surprises – like the famous ‘Bean’ in Millennium Park. Genius!

We ended our night with cocktails at Gilt – a dimly lit, loungy, super-classy bar a few blocks from our hotel. Ahhhhh, coffee, baseball, churros, architecture, and a bubbly nightcap…yes, life is good.

After a busy week of tying up loose ends at work, spic-and-spanning the house (I refuse to leave for vacation knowing that I’ll have to come back to a messy kitchen…), and scouring downtown Seattle (to no avail) for a pair of cute, comfortable, city-walkin’ shoes, we boarded our plane for the windy city this afternoon and are now settled into our hotel in downtown Chicago. We’ll be here until Tuesday, and then we head up to Minnesota for a night in Minneapolis and a couple of days with Shane’s family in Alexandria. I’ve got much to look forward to over the next week, with tickets to a Cubs game, reservations at some of Chicago’s best restaurants, and plans to take a cruise down the Chicago River to check out the city’s stunning waterfront architecture. This is my first time here, and the anticipation of new sights, new art, and new cocktails is enough to make me giddy with tourist fever. We’re off to a bang-up start, as we just finished a late-night meal at the Drawing Room – intimate, classy, and man, if only I had a picture of the grin that lit up Shane’s face as he took that first bite of bacon-wrapped pork belly. I was partial to the lightly fried avocado slices, paired with my Prosecco-lemon cocktail. The evening was, in a word, decadent. Tomorrow I’ll be good and eat on the lighter side – like maybe a Wrigley Field hot dog for lunch and deep dish pizza for dinner? This is vacation, after all…

I landed back in Seattle on Thursday night, and though it was hard to bid farewell to my temporary life of leisure, it felt good be greeted at the airport with a giant bear-hug from Shane (I needed his body heat almost as much as his affection – brrrrrr!).  And I’m extremely grateful for my suitcase full of goodies from the Coffee Mill, and my head full of memories of blazing sunsets, sandy beaches, and long chats with my lovely lady relatives.

My time in Florida was every bit the vacation I had hoped it would be.  I fell into an easy routine of a morning jog or walk with my mom; then a visit to the Coffee Mill for a caffeine fix; lunch somewhere outdoors, whether at a restaurant patio or a nearby park; an afternoon full of shopping or pool-side sitting or sipping iced lattes back at the Mill; then dinner with various extended family, followed by a sunset walk on the beach; and finally, a mellow evening at my grandma’s house, spent talking or reading or watching TV.  The weather was perfect while I was there – plenty warm to sport tank tops and sip cold Sangria with my lunch, but not the sticky, humid kind of hot that I remember from my mid-summer visits to Florida as a kid.  It felt so, so good to wake up in the morning, throw on my running clothes, and head outdoors into the fresh, sun-laden air for a jog on palm tree-lined paths.  I hadn’t realized just how much I’ve missed being outdoors until I had the chance to feel the sun on my shoulders, hear the rustle of leaves, see the multitude of greens that make up grass and plants and trees.  I also got a good dose of wildlife, as Florida is rich with all kinds of birds and lizards and turtles and snakes (ok, so seeing a snake shimmy across the path right in front of me inspired more fear than reverence, but still…).

And iced coffee after breakfast – ohhhh…I’d forgotten that coffee could be served cold.  I passed several hours at the Coffee Mill while on vacation, sipping my lattes, browsing their stock of various goodies, reading on the porch out front.  My grandma started this business when she was in her late forties, on her own, and realizing that she needed to find a way to support herself.  Thirty-five years later, through the commitment and hard work of her and my aunt, the Coffee Mill is still going strong.  I remember visiting this place as a kid, standing in front the shelves filled with candy jars, asking Grandma what I could by with the 75 cents in my pocket.  She must have given me an extra-special family discount, because I remember leaving with a good supply of gummy bears, jelly beans, and lemon drops.  This time, I was filling my basket with coffee beans and tins of tea (and maybe a little bag or two of mint chocolates and cinnamon candies).  And it turns out that Grandma still cuts me a pretty good deal.  Score!

Being so close to the water was also an extra-special treat, and I made sure that I experienced the feeling of sand between my toes whenever given the opportunity.  Everything seems more colorful when you’re at the beach, from the paint on the buildings to the color of the sunsets.  And those Gulf sunsets are really somethin’ else.  Every night was different, but they were all equally lovely.  And just when I thought the view couldn’t be more incredible, we looked out one evening and saw a group of dolphins jumping out of the water not far from the shore!  It was like a scene out of a movie.

Sunday night:

Monday night:

Tuesday night:

We spent one perfectly beachy afternoon having lunch with my aunt at John’s Pass, a cute little fishing village with restaurants and a boardwalk.  The seafood was delicious, our table in the sun was ideal for Sangria-sipping, and the pelicans were especially lively as they swooped down each time a fishing boat came in.  After lunch, we drove over to Pass-a-Grille Beach in St Pete for drinks and dessert – more sun, more beach, more mmmmm…

As much as I adored the sun and the water and the coffee, the quality time I was able to spend with family was the thing that made this whole trip worth it.  My mom and I really, really enjoyed the chance to spend so much time together just doing ‘girl stuff’ – talking, shopping, even just sitting together and reading by the pool.  And goodness, if I’d known we be spending so many hours sitting with my grandma in her living room, listening to her memories and stories and ups and downs, I would have brought a tape recorder.  Those late-night talks confirmed what I already suspected – my grandmother is indeed one of the kindest, most faithful people I have ever met.  It was so meaningful to hear her talk about how she found peace after my grandpa left after over 20 years of marriage, to hear her childhood memories of Sunday afternoon dinners shared with dozens of cousins, to see how she has been able to take every sorrow and every joy in her life and lift it up for the glory of God.  It was also nice to catch up with my aunt and my cousins – I hadn’t seen some of these family members for nearly ten years, so a reunion was long overdue.

And so, my Floridian vacation is officially over.  As I type, I am wearing my coziest pajamas and am wrapped up in my warmest blanket – Shane scolded me today for cranking the heat in our house up way too high, but I was just trying to slowly ease back into this chilly Seattle weather.  At least I now have a solid stash of gourmet teas to help keep me toasty.  And plenty of memories of sunny beaches.

I have quickly switched into vay-cay mode, and it. is. lovely. Started the day with a leisurely jog, then sipped a latte at the Coffee Mill, shopped with my mom, sat by the pool with a book, drank happy hour margaritas, watched the sun set at the beach, and am wrapping up the day with a late-night, soul-bonding chat with my mom and grandma… If the Mister weren’t back home, I might consider canceling my flight to Seattle.

After a particularly dreary week in Seattle, my mom and I boarded our plane yesterday morning and landed in tropical Florida last night. Although I love the Pacific Northwest, with its distinct seasons and chilly Winter evenings that can be spent snuggled up on the couch with my favorite blankie and a cup of tea, I was feelin’ due for some Vitamin D, ready to trade in my puffy down jacket for the cute sleeveless tops buried at the back of my closet. Looking forward to:
– Soaking up some sun, and giving even just the slightest tint to my disturbingly pale skin.
– Painting my toenails hot pink. Then actually being able to wear toe-revealing shoes.
– Catching up with my grandma, who happens to be the sweetest, kindest woman I’ve ever met.
– Ordering iced lattes from the Coffee Mill (this is the coffee/gift shop that my grandma and aunt have owned for years, and I have loads of fond memories of visiting this place as a kid).
– Staking out a perfect patch of sand on the beach, spending hours there reading, relaxing, listening to the waves wash all my worries away (how’s that for idealistic?!).

Peace out, Seattle. Try to get all that rain out of your system while I’m gone.

Shane and I embarked on Monday on our first-ever solo camping trip – we were up before dawn that morning to pile our tent, sleeping bags, and various essentials into our trusty Civic, and by 5 a.m. we were headed east, excited by the prospect of five full days in the great outdoors. Our first destination was Glacier National Park, where we would camp for night on Lake McDonald, followed by three nights in Canada’s Banff National Park.  I camped a lot as a kid (some of my earliest memories are of sitting by the campfire, watching my mom cook up whatever fish my dad caught in the river that day), and Shane and I have gone on several weekend camping trips with groups of friends over the past few years, but this was the first time we were doing it on our own.  This made me the slightest bit anxious for two reasons:  1) When I found I forgot something (and it’s inevitable that you will forget something when packing for a camping trip), I couldn’t just shout out, “Hey, did someone bring ___???” and hope for an affirmative response, and 2) It’s easy and fun to sit around a campfire all evening and tell stories with a big group of friends, but were Shane and I really up for the task of keeping each other entertained for five solid days?   Fortunately, 1) It turned out I hadn’t forgotten anything that couldn’t be picked up at the little market near camp, and 2) Shane and I are actually pretty entertaining people.  Go figure.

Anyhow, after a long drive, we arrived at our campsite Monday afternoon, tired but eager to set up camp and then explore the sights.  Sadly, just as we began to unpack our tent, raindrops started to fall, and though it never poured, it sprinkled on and off throughout the evening. Thankfully, it was still dry enough for us to have a fire, so we warmed ourselves by the flames while we munched on grilled corn on the cob and bratwursts, followed by s’mores.  Turned out to be a pretty decent night after all…

We awoke Tuesday morning to the sound of birds chirping, and I could tell from the glow of the roof of our nylon tent that the rain had passed and we were in for a beautiful day.  After a short walk down to Lake McDonald to take in the sparkling water, we packed up camp and hit the road once again.

We had decided to take the scenic route up to Banff, via ‘Going-to-the-Sun-Road’ – 53 miles of winding, mountainous glory.  It was an amazing drive, and we ooh-ed and ahh-ed all along the way, from the rolling green hills up to the snow-capped glaciers.  Thank God Shane was driving, because there’s no way I could have kept my eyes on the road with sights like this around every bend!

Our first big encounter with Glacier National Park wildlife:  this guy was just chillin’ by the side of the road, nodding his head to the cars as they passed.  Awesome.

And with one final gander at the beauty of Glacier, we were off to Banff, wondering if Canada’s mountains could top what we’d seen in Montana.  Stay tuned to find out if they did!  (How’s that for a cliff-hanger?!)

Because we were on the East Coast, and because I am married to a wild man who will jam-pack an already-full weekend, we decided to spend a couple of hours in Washington D.C. on Sunday, before heading to Baltimore to visit my family.  I was skeptical about whether or not we’d really get to see much in such a short time, but Shane led us on a great little tour-de-monuments, and we were able to hit several of the city’s landmarks.  Our walk began near the Tidal Basin, from which we headed over to the Washington Monument and down alongside the Reflecting Pool to the Lincoln Memorial.  It was a balmy 80 degrees in DC that day – perfect weather for a leisurely stroll.  Shane got a little bit ahead of me, and I pondered running through the pool and calling his name, recreating that romantic scene in Forrest Gump where Jenny and Forrest are reunited in this very spot, but I restrained myself and took the long way around.  Would have made for a good memory, though…

From the Lincoln Memorial, we walked over the Vietnam Memorial, which is nothing short of stunning.  So simple, but so powerful.  I could have sat in front of this wall for hours, just reading the names and watching the reflections of passing people in the shiny black granite.  Do you know that this memorial was designed by Maya Lin as part of a design competition she entered when she was only 21 years old, and a student in architecture?  Brilliant.

From the Vietnam Memorial, we headed back toward the Washington Monument, then over to the White House to say ‘what’s up’ to Barack.  He was nowhere to be found, so we were relegated to just standing at the gates with all the other tourists, like a bunch of kids at the zoo’s monkey cages.  The appeal of this wore off in about 5 seconds, and then it was time to wind our way back to the car.

We enjoyed our walk back toward the Tidal Basin, but it was hard to leave the city, knowing that there was so much more to do and see.  We barely scratched the surface of a few of the monuments – I’d love to head back and check out the DC’s many neighborhoods and museums.  Someday, I suppose…