Let’s Not Fight!

Early on Sunday evening, Rawle could hear a man and a woman bellowing at each other with thick South Philly accents outside his window. So we peeked outside and there they were, hootin’ and hollerin’ and even hitting each other.

So of course we taped it. (Audio seriously NSFW!)

Rawle’s saying “That’s not safe” at the end. Even less safe, I think, would have been for us to interfere. That girl is scary!

Oh I do hope they work it out.

D.C. Trip: Free to Be You and Me

When our anniversary rolled around (conveniently close to Valentine’s Day), we had some ideas about how to celebrate.

“Let’s so skiing!” I said, excited by the prospects of hot chocolate, hot tubs and the inevitability of my black diamond skills looking very impressive to Rawle.

“No skiing,” he said. Apparently it isn’t fun for a 6’7″ man to fall on his butt. “Howabout New York?”

“Too expensive!” Much as I love The City, the exorbitant cab, hotel, restaurant and cover charges didn’t sound like my idea of vacation. I thought about the other cities in our midst: Boston, too far; Baltimore, too frequently visited already; Pittsburgh, too cold. Then I thought about D.C., where I’d recently attended my cousin Martin’s wedding in its newly effervescent Chinatown. I proposed our Nation’s Capital and we shook on it.

img_2218During the trip’s planning stage, we discovered that D.C. trips are practically recession-proof!

First, while booking our stay at Hotel Rouge (a boutique hotel in Dupont Circle), we were offered 30% off our total stay if we booked an extra (3rd) night. So we basically got a night free.

Then, once we found out a one-way train ticket from Philly to D.C. cost $150, we went the way of the Chinatown bus. Total cost: $29 round-trip.

 

So on Friday the 13th (!) of February, we hopped on the bus and made the three-hour trip from Chinatown to Chinatown.

 

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We checked into the Hotel Rouge, and rouge it was indeed. Redness everywhere, down to the free Bloody Marys (and cold pizza!) offered every weekend morning.

Lo and behold, Room 909 was made for us. I shrieked to discover my man Bruce gracing the wall next to our door.

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Being young and fun, we saddled up to Bar Rouge, a Sex and the City-esque lounge just off the lobby. The clientele included: screaming, just-barely-21-yr-old (presumably Georgetown) students dressed to go clubbing in Berlin; middle-aged couples necking and drinking appletinis; and Rawle and me. It was totally weird. And the prices! At $6 for a Yuengling, even Stephen Starr would be impressed by Bar Rouge’s audacity.

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Adventures in Artistry

Hey guys. I didn’t forget you! Big things are coming.

In the meantime, please enjoy today’s foray into Photoshop/time theft (where I would be considered a novice and an expert, respectively).

Short-haired Mary and big-horned iguana in A-R-U-B-A

Short-haired Mary and big-horned iguana in A-R-U-B-A

Here’s another look:

He's a big'n!

He's a big'n!

Sorry for that complete waste of time! More to come!