Hot Dogs, Arabic, and Anxiety

Well, I said I'd tryyyyyy to be better at posting!  But I finally have a few silent moments to share my life with you.  Well, silent except for the lady bug flying all over my room.  Excuse me, ladybug, but why are you flying so much?  They are just not aerodynamic creatures.

Two weeks ago, my boyfriend was back in town!  He was able to come in Thursday night, so we had plenty of time to play in the city.  We rode the Capital BikeShare around the monuments one day, and went to the American History Smithsonian and did some other typical touristy stuff, including getting hot dogs from the street carts, which is my favorite thing to do when I'm traipsing around sight seeing!  I love living in a city where I can "vacation" in my own "backyard."  (In reality, if I were to vacation in my legitimate backyard, I'd get eaten by mosquitoes and bored.)

Look at that stud!

And here I am, just practicing being Lance Armstrong

The most delicious burger shack in DC! 

The weekend ended with he and I "grabbing lunch and drinks" at a local gay bar called Freddie's Beach Bar.  Yes, we were the only straight people in there.  No, my boyfriend did not mind.  No, he isn't homosexual.  Yes, there were rainbows.  And I put our plans in quotations because they were just that... plans.  The actual series of events went more like this: I eat practically nothing because I'm strangely not hungry, then drink 10 beers, then four hours later we stumble home and I wake up at 1am still in my clothes and still very drunk.  Let's just say that while that afternoon was a blasty-blast, getting up to take him to the airport and go to work Monday morning had me very unhappy.  Woof.  It was not a pretty sight.  

Since then, it's been the typical stuff.  Going out on weekends, working all week, blah blah blah.  I've gotten really overwhelmed with anxiety lately, and now that it's finally caught up with me I'm going to work hard this week to kick it.  It's just been one thing after another popping up and demanding priority in my life.  

I'm also trying to learn Arabic.  And when I say that, I mean, I did four lessons of Rosetta Stone and I have no freaking clue what they're saying.  At least with Spanish, I can use word stems and context clues and conjugation endings to figure it out. Oh, yeah, and the letters look "normal."  What is Arabic even written in?  Well, Arabic, obviously, but... okay, I'm just going to stop right there.  It looks like doodles.  That's it. 

Alright, well, I'm in the mood for a really hot shower and a cold glass of ice water and some sleep.  (Warning, I may be morphing into a grandma).  

Love,

N