- Webster Street Market-- I thought about picking up lunch here, but the crowd looked kinda skeezy. Sorry if you were there. I did shop around the little booths. Some people sell antiques and collectible things there, some people sell handmade clothes and jewelry there, and some people sell complete crap there. In a non-crap booth, I found something for my non-bio sister's birthday! This chick makes really cool silver jewelry with different colors of amber cut in interesting shapes. Sound cheesy? It's totally hot. My faux-sister is kinda bohemian and Deadhead-y, but also a mother of three, and she will LOVE the necklace and earrings I picked up. Handmade! Unique! She'll get those, plus a copy of Son of a Witch (coming to bookstores Tuesday), a pretty handmade bookmark, and of course a charming haiku from yours truly. Don't you wish I was buying for you? Oh, shutup. You'd LOVE my presents.
- I was leafing through Dwell and noticed that a house featured was right nearby, so I Googlemapped it and checked it out. The pictures in the magazine are artfully done. They make no bones about the scary neighborhood, but I was still surprised. Rough. Very sweet place, though. I walked around and snapped a few photos, but they didn't really come out well. Plus, they included the crack dealer who later approached me. I bought a rock for fifty off him and thought it best that I not post a picture of him on my blog. You're getting the photo from the magazine.
- I noticed that the traveling rendition of the Viet Nam Veteran's Memorial, The Moving Wall, was in town, so I headed over there. It's like a half-scale rendition. I think the locale in a parking lot near the expressway detracted from the atmosphere. Have any y'all seen the real thing? Confession. I've never been to D.C. I know I should go. Whenever I get free time, it just gets bumped down on my list. It's all the stranger then that I have so often ended up naked on and around the Lincoln Memorial in my dreams.
- Finally I saw the touring production of My Fair Lady. Of course I've seen the film. Audrey Hepburn is an icon, yo. I loved, loved, loved this play. All the main actors are wonderful. The songs are timeless and well-delivered. I've been singing "On The Street Where You Live" the rest of the day.
You know what? I did all this stuff alone and had a good time. Do you find that strange? I'm fine with it. Still, it'd be nice to feel like the song.....
That was a nice day. I'd considered including a bulleted entry about having an extra spring in my step tonight after arriving home. I was gone all day. I don't cotton to dropping it on the one whilst on the road. I'm not so crass as to say more. I was raised right. Like Whitney. Oh, and I didn't buy the crack from that guy or I would have NEVER made it home in time to do the doo. Here's the house, though:
I have often walked down this street before, but the pavement always stayed
beneath my feet before. All at once am I, several stories high, knowing I'm on the street where you live.
Not a crack house, technically