contraband

Apparently not entirely satisfied with the view from my new/temporary office, I met Sophie in Georgetown for a water front picnic yesterday after work. This very mild, much appreciated winter aside, I feel like DC generally only has a couple weeks of really perfect weather each year as winter becomes spring and summer becomes fall. Subsequently, I have this somewhat nagging desire to enjoy everypossiblesecond. This leads to lots of patio-centric happy hours, outdoor lunches, and, apparently, water front picnics.

Sadly it got a bit cloudy by the time Sophie and I settled down on the dock that lines the Potomac in Georgetown, but we still had a beautiful view. 

Rosslyn and rowing teams to the right

Kennedy Center and the descent in to Reagan National to the left

The picnic was a last minute idea, replacing the Monday dinners Sophie and I usually have at my apartment. I'm sure Sophie appreciated a reprieve from my crazy cooking experiments. I know we both appreciated the gorgeous weather (and the proximity of some rather attractive crew teams). I had a bottle of extremely budget-friendly wine from Trader Joe's in my fridge, so I brought that along for the feast, even though neither of us were entirely clear on the rules of drinking in public (although we suspected we might be breaking a few). We tried to be subtle and surreptitious, masking the pinot in styrofoam cups (classy, I know), but we got some looks when we snuck the bottle out for refills. I can only imagine what the passersby would have thought if they'd seen the makeshift grocery bag ice chest I had hidden in my tote bag to keep the contraband cold.  

We soaked up the wine with a baguette, mozzarella, basil, mandarin oranges, and a giant, decadent brownie. It was low key and low budget, but as we people watched, airplane watched, and generally soaked up the unseasonable warmth, I felt like I was, in fact, enjoying everypossiblesecond. And no, that is not just the $2.50 wine talking. (Side note, the $2.50 wine at TJ's, separate from their regular "two buck Chuck," which is more like $3-something these days, is really quite good if you make sure it's nice and frosty).

Anyways, there's nothing like sneaking wine on a public dock to totally counter the stresses of "grown up" life. (Although I suppose being arrested for drinking in public might rapidly change my feelings on the matter).  I recently officially converted to a new job at work, which was a long time coming, but doesn't make the change any less freaky at first. I'm also pretty seriously pursuing real estate (much more on that latter, I promise). 

These two things are happening in tandem, and often result in emails to my mom with subject lines like "A HOME APPRAISAL COSTS FOUR HUNDRED AND FIFTY DOLLARS?" or "ALL MY WORK FRIENDS ARE GOING TO FORGET ABOUT ME!!!" Yes, in all caps. And yes, it is highly ironic that in the midst of major adult life changes, I need to consult my Mommy. You start applying for a mortgage and try tell me it doesn't drive you right back in to the all-knowing arms of your parents. 

Although this is all giving me some pretty obvious jitters, I'm sure my parents are enjoying it immensely. Not in a perverse "our daughter can't sleep through the night anymore" way. Just in a "aha! now she finally knows what WE went through" sort of way. It reminds me of when my "Uncle Bobby," one of our good family friends who has known me for nearly sixteen years, said to me "look at you, all grown up, talking about mortgages and retirement accounts....isn't this great?!" And I wailed, wide-eyed "no, it's terrible!" 

Don't tell Uncle Bobby, but I suppose secretly, it really is kind of great.