Let me just start off by saying that after staying up until 3 a.m. packing, cleaning, showering, eating, basically doing anything and everything to kill time since I was too excited to sleep, the last thing I want to hear in the morning is my alarm clock going off at 6 a.m. But, being the trooper I am, I groggily fell out of bed and slipped into whatever chic outfit I had picked out the night before – after all, I have to dress to impress in the big city!
It was still night as I went outside. Am I really that excited for this trip still or is that pounding in my head just my brain knocking to tell me I need more sleep? I got on the plane alone, which I have done before, and passed out the entire trip while the two gentlemen next to me had to deal with my snoring and taking up all their leg room. The part I least looked forward to was figuring out how in the world I was going to get to the hotel. I’ve never flown anywhere and not had someone to pick me up.
Since I clearly looked frazzled, a nice security guard pointed me to a Super Shuttle information desk, where a lady, who sympathetically noticed my confusion, booked a shuttle to take me to my hotel. As I peered out the window at the busy streets, businessmen running late and colorful buildings passing me by, it finally hit me. I was in Washington, D.C.
Not only was I in Washington, D.C., but I was also the first person in our group to arrive at the hotel. This downtime did me wonders because I was able to nap, straighten my hair and watch SpongeBob in the hotel room as I waited for the rest of the group.
At 6:30 we all had dinner plans at an Ethiopian restaurant. I’ve never been much of a risk taker when it comes to food. I know I like hamburgers and French fries from pretty much anywhere, Mexican food, Italian, Asian, but Ethiopian food? What?
Our van dropped us off at a popular Ethiopian restaurant. Of course, there had to be a pizza place next door to tease me and let me know that wouldn’t be where I would be eating. The tables were low to the ground and the chairs were even lower. I picked the best day possible to choose to wear a dress.
We picked platters of meat and some of vegetables. Once the food arrived, it actually hit me that not only did we not have individual plates but also no silverware. Instead, we had these tortilla-looking rolls of sourdough that we used to rip pieces off and then pick up the food. Once again – what?!
Being the complete freak I am about food, I would strategically wait for people next to me to try the food, and then I would observe the expressions on their faces to see if it tasted good. Signs of approval would signal for me to meticulously rip off my piece of sourdough and dig in.
While I am very glad I can now say I have tried Ethiopian food, I am not a fan of it. Upon leaving the restaurant, it hit me that there was one thing that would really hit the spot: good ol’ fashioned pizza. Oh, did I want pizza.
Our group then went to the White House to have our own personal photo shoot. Since everyone has their own camera, we all want the same exact picture on each camera even though we are smart enough to figure out we could simply use one camera and then put it up on Facebook. But it doesn’t matter. It’s the White House and we all want our own picture of it!