My apologies to hippies everywhere.

After a quiet night in the apartment on Friday, Hubster and I decided it was high time to get out on Saturday. Earlier in the week we had planned to hit the National Mall in DC and maybe a cafe for some coffee and reading. We arrived at the Greenbelt Metro Station at around 11:30am and there were few parking spots left - Evil Omen #1. We kept seeing "fringe" fashionistas with their dreadlocks, their flowy skirts that you KNOW are not from the current Boho-chic craze, and their posters with slogans like "Hurricane Bush, The Real Disaster" - Blatantly Obvious Evil Omen #2. Yes, friends, the anti-war protestors decided that spending the entire afternoon with their fellow hygenically-questionable humans packed into small, open spaces was just not enough, so they packed themselves into small, enclosed spaces on the metro as an added bonus.

After much whiny discussion on both our parts, K & I realized we didn't want to wait for a train, wait in the train standing up next to the aforementioned hygentically-questionable folk and their pointy posters, and then wait in the same fashion on the way home. We were peeved, however, having been excited for a few days now about our little plan. After a few cathartic (but muffled and laughingly-uttered) cries of "Dirty Hippies!" we aimed our vehicle's nose toward Annapolis and burned some more oil at the expense of the Iraqis. Or whatever our metro nemeses would say.

We wandered around Annapolis trying to find a place to ditch the vehicle. We finally parked right by a mortuary. Awesome. Then we hit up a pub for lunch and then the Hard Bean Cafe for a delicious chai latte and some reading. We wandered back toward the car after a while and I had to sneak into the bathroom of the Marriott Annapolis Waterfront hotel because (in case you don't know me and thus need to be told) I have so small a bladder it would have been better to have left it out than include such a useless, peanut-sized gimmick. Anyway, nice-looking hotel.


Mmmm, dreamy lack of hippies.

We headed home and were so deep in thought and conversation about future homes and mortgages that we missed our exit like 17 times. Eventually we made it home to find a rambunctious Persephone and news stories about the hippies of the morning (someone please name their band that!). Yesterday I sang in the choir, singing much better than I managed to find my choir robe, put on that silly rope-belt, process in, process out, and generally act like a born Episcopalian chorister instead of a four-month-old, converted interloper. Also, that afternoon I dyed my hair and I think I'm finally getting the right system that I can use a solas with Couleur Experte. All in a weekend's relaxation!