DC Update

My trip to DC is going so well, Jennie is threatening to lock me under the stairs and never let me leave. Apparently I am very, very good luck. Eternal pessimist that I am, I keep expecting the other shoe to drop.

Friday night we went to the gym where Jennie’s trainer kicked her ass. He pretty much kicked my ass as well, as I had to wait for their session to finish and so I just. kept. working out. I did my full weight routine and then hopped back on the treadmill. Combined with the fact that we went right back to the gym bright and early the next morning, we’re both walking pretty funny today. Don’t worry, I’ve been eating waaaay too much to be in any danger of losing weight while I’m here!

After our Friday workout, I didn’t feel like putting my regular clothes back on. The plan was to head back home, shower and eat steak (or, in my case, salad). So, I pulled my boots on over my workout tights and went for the pirate look. The sweaty, sweaty pirate look. Attractive, right? The universe, in all of it’s humor decided that I should meet some of Jennie’s friends while looking my most ridiculous. Her fiancé, Damian, let us know when he picked us up that a bunch of their friends were at a sushi restaurant. Given the choice between not looking ridiculous and eating sushi? I always pick sushi. Even if we ate it for lunch that day. My only regret is not having sushi for breakfast.

I introduced myself as Jennie’s sweaty, pirate friend. They laughed. We ate sushi. Massive amounts of sushi. Life was good.

The next day, we woke up bright and early to have our butts kicked (masochists, the both of us) and then undid all of our hard work at a massive brunch with Jennie’s friends. I can neither confirm nor deny that I hit the brunch buffet three times and indulged in a slice of carrot cake. I can, however, state categorically that I attempted to fill my plate with fruit instead of home fries. Attempted.

Brunch was a multi-hour extravaganza followed by shoe-shopping (I didn’t buy anything!), music-shopping (I bought a $1 record) and panty-hose shopping (the pair I wore on Friday looked like they had been mauled by tigers. I love you, CVS).

Then it was time for the… dun dun DUN…. ballet! We saw the Kirov Ballet perform “La Bayadere” at the Kennedy Center. We got all dolled up (All worries about my appropriateness went out the window when we got there and the girl sitting next to me was wearing jeans. She was also eating M&Ms the whole time. Bitch.) and then headed off with Jennie’s mom. We had an amazing dinner in the restaurant at the top of the Kennedy Center where I felt very posh until I accidentally dropped my spoon onto my soup bowl (crash!) and made everyone around us turn and stare. The rest of the courses were eaten without incident, but with great satisfaction. Did I mention the view from the restaurant? Or the fact that they gave me the seat with the best line of sight to the windows? I’m telling you, I’m being spoiled. Kristian better watch out, I might never want to go home.

Then it was time for the ballet! Jennie and her Mom have season tickets, so they bought a single seat for me to go with them. They have pretty decent seats, but mine was apparently some rows ahead of them. We wandered towards the front to find my seat and we just kept walking closer to the stage. And closer. And closer. And closer. Until we stopped…. at the front row. Apparently Row G at the ballet is the first row (the orchestra replaces Rows A-F).

Here is photographic evidence of how close I was:

Don’t you love my nostrils?

Holy crap, I was close! I mean, I could count the ribs on the dancers’ torsos. Jennie says that she could see the ribs of the ballerina who played Nikiya, but I think that I could see the faint outline of some of her organs. I could also see every twitch of their muscles and every bead of sweat as they danced their asses off. It was incredible. Jennie and her mom are both total ballet nerds and they were seriously impressed. I’m a bit more of an “ooh! pretty!” audience member, but I was just blown away with the beauty and the talent of it all.

I loved the juxtaposition of a Russian ballet with an Indian theme. You could see a slight influence in the movement of the dancers hands. The costumes and sets were obviously a Russian interpretation of ancient India. For the most part, it was fairly accurate, but the wedding scene should have had the dancers in red (the Indian wedding color) and not white (the color of mourning). I loved seeing a ballet (which tells a story with no words) depict a tale from India, where they have their own dance forms that tell stories without words. The sets were amazing, the costumes beautiful, the dancers spot on. I didn’t want it to end.

But, end it did, and off home we went to head off to bed and get some rest before our big day today. A day of the “Three C’s” which, in Jennie’s case, is Church, Cloverfield and Cheese (we’re making fondue tonight) and in my case is Coffee, Cloverfield and Cheese. I’m writing this entry from a coffee shop where I’m waiting for Jennie and Damian to get out of mass. They invited me to attend with them, but I figured that Kristian wouldn’t appreciate having me mailed back to them in a jar after being struck by lightning and turned into ash at the entrance. Jennie says that I’m not that much of a heathen, but it’s just not a risk that I’m willing to take.

So, I’m worshipping at the House of Caffeine and enjoying a latte.

Have a fabulous day!