What happens when left unsupervised.

We get great ideas. Like after a bottle of wine (or three. . . ) we decided it would be awesome to roll down a hill like we're still 10. This is a picture of the hill we decided to throw ourselves down (not once. twice). Getting up to the top was quite the task being that dew had already fallen, we were in flip flops and wayyy passed intoxicated. Even drunk, I don't remember it being so painful as a kid. I also do not remember being covered in cuts, bruises and brush burns from doing this. (I look like I have been domestically abused and am still in pain, btw)

This was where we came up with the grand idea. We spent the majority of Friday night drinking wine and smoking cigarettes on top of this slab of concrete which also doubled as an ashtray. If you look at the top middle, there is another water meter. This is where I almost busted my head open on the second time down. The Judges awarded me a 8 on style and added another point for the fact my brains came so close to being artfully displayed all over this piece of very hard metal. Good times. Good times.

Saturday we spent the day sweating out all the wine we consumed as we toured the capital (which is spelled with an A, whereas the actual building is spelled with an O. This was another deep conversation we had on said concrete slab) It was 93 degrees and we decided being outside all day hungover was a good plan. This picture was taken on one of the many "We need to stop walking or I'm going to die" breaks on the stairs of the Lincoln Monument. The WW II Memorial was apparently new since the last time I had been there (it's the circular thing in front of the Washington Monument). Unfortunately there was a fence around the pond otherwise I would have been in it.

We also decided to hang out in Georgetown that night. Just an FYI: Hookah bars do not serve alcohol (Sorry if this is just news to me. Remember, I'm from the land of drive through daiquiri shops, bars never close and where alcohol roams free). That was the most painful 2.5 hours of my life. Hookah is supposed to be a relaxing fun time, but where the hell is all the fun without alcohol?! We were smoking our Mixed Berry flavored tobacco with the puff puff pass mentality but BIG puff puffs to get rid of it and journey to a place that did serve alcohol. (One of the guys we were with offered to run to the corner bar and do shots with me, but I would have felt like too much of an alcoholic- now I'm kicking myself for not) The next morning I still had a nearly full pack of cigarettes (which is completely rare) and a sore throat like I smoked a carton. Sufficed to say, Hookah will not be considered "Fun times" in my book any time soon.

I did notice DC has a plethora of acceptable looking men- this made me very happy, seeing as NYC is a drought (I know I'm going to get shit for saying that, but New York men are lacking attractive tall men, end of story). I also noticed that they all looked like they stepped out of a Gap commercial circa 1983, but I forgive them. Apparently, Georgetown is behind the times and still believes J. Crew preppy is still en vogue.

It was one of my favorite weekends thus far on our tour to visit all the cities of fun in the Northeast.

Next Stop: Boston!