Well, I'm lying here "resting."  Staying home another day from work, because apparently this crud has decided to kick it into high gear and tack on a fever on top of the sniffling, coughing, wheezing blah-ness that is ... whatever illness I have.  But it's not even 9:00 and already I'm bored.  So I thought I'd finally get around to writing that post about Eastern Market.  (And I'm reasonably doped up on medicine, so if there are a lot of typos, forgive me.)

As I mentioned in the "Capitol Hill Books" post, P and I went to this place called Eastern Market this weekend.  A friend of mine from work has been encouraging me to go for a long time -- probably since I first moved here.  I didn't realize that it's on the Orange line of the Metro, which makes it a snap to get to!  But I'll start at the beginning ...

ECcap5

We headed into the city with a few objectives.  I needed to take a photo in front of the Capitol to include in my Christmas cards, so we headed there first.  We got a few good ones and many silly (not-so-good) ones.  It was a gorgeous day.  Really, I don't think the weather could have been more perfect.  It was that same cool, but not cold, that it's been for a while here.  And the sun was out ... absolutely loverly.

From the Capitol, we walked over toward Eastern Market -- which is several blocks, but a pleasant walk on a day like that.  We wandered aimlessly (well, not entirely without aim) for a while, not completely sure where the market was since we'd never been before and eventually spotted the tops of the white vendor tents.

It reminded me a lot of Christmas on the River, which is a HUGE annual event in Demopolis that involves an outdoor market setup on a Saturday in December.  There were all different kinds of vendors outside selling their wares: jewelry, scarves, pottery, fine china, and photography and other artwork.  There were two buildings that housed even more vendors.  One was like an indoor extension of those setup outside.  The other was a large, warehouse-type space that was the central location for all the food:  fresh produce, baked goods, homemade pasta, and fresh cuts of meat.  As my friend from work suggested, it would be ideal to head out to Eastern Market first thing in the morning on Saturday, pick up the fresh ingredients and make dinner later that day.

EasternMarket2

We also grabbed a couple sandwiches from this tiny Italian deli/grocery ... I think it was called Prego.  It was right across the street from the market.  Anyway -- very, very yummy!

After we wrapped up browsing through the market, we headed to the used book store that was just across the street from the backside of the market area.  Spent some time there, picked up a few books, and then headed out to find the Metro and make our way home.

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Ugh.  I'm sick.

I don't DO sick very well.  It's so inconvenient.

Sitting still and resting in the middle of the work week ... this is soooo bizarre.

The medicine or something is making me really sleepy, though.  So off to snooze I go ...

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P and I spent the afternoon out and about at Eastern Market.  It was a gorgeous day for that -- perfectly clear weather, nice and cool without being cold.  I'll (hopefully) write more about all that later.  But we're about to meet up with some folks to go see a movie, so I'm just putting up a pic from a bookstore we went to.

books

This is from this used book shop Capitol Hill Books -- possibly the coolest, most intriguing place I've ever set foot in.  I bought one book (more on that later, as well), but I definitely see myself becoming a repeat customer.

I think the coolest thing about this place was how JAM PACKED it was with books.  Seriously, floor to ceiling with books.  The narrow, winding pathways through the mountains of books help transform this townhouse-turned-book-shop into a cozy, intimate retreat for those with a passion for reading.

Naturally, P loved it.  LOVED it. 

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Or something.

Olive Garden has traditionally been one of my favorite restaurants.  (It's the breadsticks and alfredo sauce.  YUM.)  I'd go there for birthdays, for random celebrations, when I'm in the middle of working hard and have earned a treat, or when I'm just really craving it.  (It's like Mellow Mushroom.  It's my thing!)

When my mom and I were up here looking for apartments over my birthday weekend, we found an Olive Garden and went to dinner there.  It is relatively close to my apartment, so that location has become "my" Olive Garden.  I've eaten there a handful of times since then.  All ... have been ...extremely ... SLOW.  To the point that I become somewhat annoyed.

But.  So many times, there are factors in play making the service bad that go far beyond your waiter/waitress.  There's NO point -- and I think it's actually rather rude -- to take it out on them.  Perhaps the kitchen is understaffed for the night.  Or maybe your waiter has too many tables b/c another waiter didn't come in and he is having to cover for him.

But.  This Olive Garden ... consistently slow.  We're talking very slow.  As in, waiting (seated) almost 10 minutes before we even SEE our waiter.  Hmm.

The Olive Garden at 3548-52 S. Jefferson St. in Falls Church, VA, needs to work on that.

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I had a little bit of a problem with the dishwasher tonight.

IMAG0097

I'd been letting a pan soak in the sink, so it was filled with sudsy dish liquid.  In tossing stuff in the dishwasher, I think I just dumped the water out (without rinsing it) ... so a good bit of the dish liquid was transferred into the dishwasher.  BIG NO-NO.

A few minutes after starting the washer, suds were bubbling and flowing out of the bottom onto my nice hardwood floor.  Ruh-roh.

Through a combination of cake pans to catch the flow and several towels to sop up the mess ... I was able to keep it from becoming a complete disaster.

Whoopsie.

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This is my first winter this far north, and I thought it would be no big deal ... wear a warmer coat, hat and gloves, etc.  But I've encountered something I didn't even think about -- skin getting chapped from the cold!  My hands are torn up!  And it hurts!  They're all red and splotchy.  (Youch ...)

I'm a smart gal.  So I went looking for the answer at good ol' WebMD.  Turns out, it may be the kind of soap I'm using.  They say to use a liquid-form moisturizing soap (I thought that was a marketing thing -- didn't think they really worked; guess I was wrong!).  Also, they suggest applying lotion soon after getting out of the shower, while your skin is still damp.

Cool.  I will try this ...

(So I can stop whimpering about my hands hurting ...)

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Coming from someone who isn't a singing-in-the-shower kind of person ... I don't get it.  What is it that compells people to sing in the shower?  I can kind of understand if there's a radio or something in there.  But there's no music.  Just singing.

I seriously don't get it. 

I'm perplexed.

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What song gives you the most holiday cheer?
Submitted by Roxy.

I'm a southern girl, so naturally, it's the Alabama Christmas album.  (Naturally.)  From that, it's nearly impossible to pick a favorite.  "Christmas in Dixie" is classic.  "Thistlehair the Christmas Bear" was my favorite when I was little, so it holds a special place in my heart.  "Happy Holidays" reminds me of making holiday cut-out cookies with my mom and my sister.  "Christmas Memories" ... makes me cry now.  (sigh)

I tried to listen to that album while I was baking the other day.  I had to switch to something else.  Turns out, I can't handle listening to that if I'm not at home, surrounded by my family.  That's special, though.  I don't mind.  I'll keep that a family thing.

I admit, the one thing that got me through my hectic travels over Thanksgiving ... was Christmas music.  Interestingly, I love the Kenny G Christmas stuff.  (I bought some massive pack of songs through iTunes last year.)  My favorites from those: "The First Noel," "O Holy Night" and "Ave Maria."  There's something about all these ... I find myself taking a deep breath and relaxing without concious effort.

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We all have aspirations.  I can think of a few of my own, most of which are just for kicks.  And I have a tendency to state these aspirations as, "I aspire to ... whatever."  For example, I aspire to live in that snazzy apartment building three blocks from my current apartment.  (We're talking very-spacious-with-a-fireplace-and-everything snazzy.)  Anyway.  I discovered another tonight ...

I aspire ... to have my shirts professionally cleaned.

After about an hour of non-stop ironing, I was overcome by the persistant sense that I hate ironing.  There are few things I hate.  I hate ironing.  This doesn't bode well for an individual who wears a lot of button-downs and creased slacks.  Hmm.  So.  I aspire (to be able to afford) to have my shirts professionally cleaned.  :-)

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Stephanie sent this around at work:  http://www.myholidaysweater.com/

Thought I'd share my creation:

Holiday sweater

Haha ... this thing is awesome!

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