SB and I just got back from seeing The Darjeeling Limited, which was fine, but is ultimately not as important as what we did just prior to the movie.We had cupcakes.
A new cakelove location just opened in Shirlington a few weeks ago, and I would say that I’m embarassed that we’ve been there three times already, but really, I’m not. I like cake. Who doesn’t like cake? Wrong people, that’s who.
The whole cupcake deal seems to be that for $3, you get either chocolate or vanilla cake with one of a variety of fancy frostings. So far I’ve had chocolate with German chocolate, chocolate with peanut butter, and chocolate with lime. Shane has had chocolate with chocolate ganache, chocolate with straight-up chocolate frosting, and then tonight he branched out, going for chocolate CAKE with toffee something-or-other frosting. We also had samples during last weekend’s Oktoberfest, but I can’t say that I really remember what they were.
The most torturous thing about cakelove is that when you buy your cupcake, it comes out of a refrigerated case BUT won’t actually be at its best until it’s warms up to room temperature. Shane takes this whole cupcake-warming business very seriously, which lead to a great deal of teasing when I just couldn’t wait for German chocolate cake. We let the second batch get all melty on our long beer-sodden walk home last weekend, resulting in a very sticky and very quick cupcake treat. Tonight, just like Goldilocks, they were just right.
I’m really not at all interested in furthering this cupcake trend – I think it’s really pretty ridiculous – but at the same time you definitely won’t hear me complaining about fancy cake treats in my neighborhood.
In the last few days, the temperature here has dropped from highs in the low 90’s to highs in the mid 60’s.
Fall is absolutely my favorite time of year, so the sudden drop in temperature has me very, very happy. Falling temperatures mean that it’s time for tights, big pots of soup, and the pumpkin latte that I just bought from my friend the Coffee Man. Lower temperatures also mean that I’m harboring less resentment towards our apartment building for closing the pool over Labor Day weekend.
While fall won’t be quite the same without a trip to Edwards Apple Orchards, cider donuts, or Big Ten football (Herky, how I miss you!), it’s shaping up to be pretty gorgeous nonetheless.
This week I started a Couch to 5K training program that Keem sent my way. It’s a running program for people who don’t run, and over the course of six weeks, you build up to running three miles in 20 minutes. This doesn’t sound terribly exciting, but a predetermined program with measurable results really appeals to me. It’s a little early to think about new years resolutions, but I think running a 5K will be one of mine for next year.
Edit: duh, look at me! I can’t read. The training program takes NINE weeks, and will eventually be running 3 miles in ~30 minutes. Way to build up expectations, e!
Happy hour is apparently a big thing here, as we discovered Wednesday night. We met up with CouchSurfer Mike and his friend Mark for some drinks and half-priced pizza at Birreria Paradiso in Georgetown. Shane, Mike, and Mark like nerding it up about beer, and something particularly magical was on draft that night. Don’t ask me what it was – if there’s one thing I know nothing about (OK, there are many things I know nothing about), it’s beer. I know what I don’t like (IPAs, which puts me in the minority in this group), but I’ll try just about anything.
The pizza was awesome, and I had a couple of excellent beers. We got there a bit late, so we were stuck kind of in the middle of everything, in close proximity to a table of Very Loud People (and also, strangely enough, a very large pile of firewood that had its own beer). At some point I think the Very Loud Laughing coming from the Very Loud People directly triggered the events that led to Shane having nuts dumped in his pocket by Mark, but I’m a little fuzzy on the details.
I’ve sort of run out of things to say about the whole nuts thing, but I will say that while SB is my best friend and I love doing things with him, it was awfully nice to be Out With People as well. Oh, and we’ll definitely be going back for happy hour.
Thanks to a careful examination of my online banking statement, I have learned the identity of The Coffee Man – or at least of his coffee cart. The establishment is officially known as “Espresso & More” – the & More apparently being the giant cinnamon raisin cookie that Coffee Man sold me yesterday. Good to know.
Continuing my survey of coffee joints in the greater Arlington area, I visited Hot Shotz, which is less than a block from the Clarendon Metro stop. It was weirdly quiet for being adjacent to a shopping district and a Metro stop, even with the whole no-food-and-drink-on-the-Metro rule. I had a distinctly mediocre au lait and spent about two hours in a reasonably comfortable chair using sketchy wireless and trying to figure out the source of the old people smell. No luck in the latter, and I really see no need to go there again.
So, as I mentioned, I started my job in the District this week. One of my concerns in starting said job is that there’s a $tarbuck$ (see, SB, two can play that game) in the ground floor, which to me means that no real coffeeshops will be anywhere nearby. I’ve found that this is not entirely true – but I’m still not going to dissuade my Champaign friends from sending me coffee. I have, instead, started getting my morning coffee from my friend The Coffee Man, who has a little cart just down the block. I have no idea what the actual name of his establishment is, but I’m quite pleased that he is there.
I started my job in the District yesterday, which also means that I started commuting by Metro yesterday. So far the following things have happened in the course of my commute:
- Almost got hit by an SUV while crossing Columbia Pike
- Got on the 16G bus going in the wrong direction
- Saw a roach on the 41 bus
- Lots of stopping and starting on the Orange (kind of like stop-and-start traffic, except on a train)
I assume at some point I’ll get my sea legs and won’t get tossed around in the Metro quite as much – when I was in New York, I envied Erin Fae’s ability to just stand in the aisle and not move, whereas I fell all over the place. It was the same case this morning – with every stop and start, I had to adjust my stance to keep from crashing into the nice woman reading the paper in front of me. I wonder if this has to do with one’s center of gravity – or if perhaps this is some sort of innate thing that comes from years of train-riding. Hmm.