One week ago. Three people, one slightly-undersized car, two metro stations, and nowhere to park.

I had a lot of fun in Washington D.C. last Monday. Location means, Oh, so much less than one's companions. The presence of Sarah, Ashley, and Gabrielle turned a cold, windy, crowded and rain-soaked Washington D.C. day into a fabulously fun experience. We all became very well acquiainted with water, except maybe for Gabrielle who was clever enough to wear a cloak. Don't worry. No dagger.

Sarah, Ashley, and Gabrielle. Gabrielle, Sarah, and Ashley. What can I say? That I haven't often enjoyed a day with a set of such intelligent, wise, thoughtful people?

Of course, never all play and no work for me. Sarah's task? Finding out how shallow Smithsonian information is for real research. Me? Narrative in the Smithsonian Natural History Museum. But I too was largely disappointed, except for one more recent exhibit, which I'll describe in a later post.

Afterward, we walked the grey afternoon sidewalks (glazed with rainwater) to the DuPont Circle, where Ashley guaranteed us a good cup of tea. She wasn't kidding.

Teasm is a nice place. Not too pricey (the college cafeteria is more expensive), the food is decent. Sorry, but I'm not a connoisseur… I don't eat out a lot, and if it's a square meal, I like it. I eat at home mostly, when I eat a regular meal (snacking on veggies and fruit mostly for me).

Wow. I make a really bad food blogger. On the serious side, their food metabolizes well (umm, I'm grasping at straws, can't you tell?) and um, yeah. It looks and tastes really good.

The atmosphere is Awesome. Good mood lighting, interesting abstract art -- my companions didn't think so, which sparked a philosophical discussion among them about the One True Definition of Art-- and unusual classical trance music. I let them argue for a while, biting the name Andy Warhol from my tongue.

Just one tip for my fellow uninitiated. Unless (like my family), you happen to come from a third-world country where spicy is the only flavor they understand, don't empty a whole package of Wasabi into your noodles. At least, not unless you have sinus problems.

I liked Teaism. I feel that if I lived in D. C., I would go there on Monday evenings, when only a few others sit in the shadows with their books. I would sit in the shadows with my books and my graph-paper notebook. I would write there. Yes. I could write there and feel good.

This is high praise.

On the way back, we stopped at Trader Joe's. While not at the level of Whole Foods, Joe's has everything the slightly-affluent, health-conscious yuppie needs. If I ever live close to one of their stores, possess a wad of cash, and experience culinary motivations, I'll definitely be there.

You know you're no longer in rural Central Pennsylvania when the grocery store displays more lavish decorating finesse in the bathroom than you have seen in most living rooms.