I'm feeling like a total lazy bum this morning, and it feels delicious. My first morning in D.C. and there's nothing that I have to do for the next week. I may, now and again, leave my hotel I suppose :) But I'm only going to go sight-seeing when I feel like it. Otherwise, I'm going to rest, take it easy, do some writing (I'm hoping to finally finish a short story about my Dad) and go to the gym (of course :).

I was marginally disappointed to open the curtains this morning and not find a world transformed by snow. I vividly remember the excitement of waking up, when I lived in colder climates, and noticing, stealing through the gap between curtains and ceiling, the bluish white light that indicated a blanket of snow. Not this morning, however, although the complete absence of people in the distance and the cold light of the sky gave promise of snow to come.

Quite honestly, after yesterday, I didn't expect to wake up in such a good mood this morning. It was a fairly horrible day. On Friday, I'd had a nasty crick in my neck all day. Unfortunately, it was even worse on Saturday morning. So the flights that would have been uncomfortable anyway, given my height, were made even more so by the unnatural angle at which I had to hold my head if I was to find any relief at all.

Nonetheless, I found myself absently whistling "Hail to the Chief" under my breath, as I waited to board the plain in Oakland, excited to be going back to the East Coast again. I'd forgotten, by the way, that I'd booked out of Oakland this time, and would have driven to San Francisco International this morning had I not had the foresight to call the airline to confirm my flight.

Did you know that the tradition of playing "Hail to the Chief" when the President enters a room only began with President Polk? Apparently, he was so short that nobody would notice when he walked in, unless the band struck up.

I got to Dallas by late morning, and realized that I had a two and a half hour wait for my flight to Baltimore. So I spent some time in the spacious Admirals Club, reading my guide book to D.C. Although I've been to D.C. many times, I've never been here for a whole week before. So I thought that this time I'd at least read up on the city. The guide book was written by the English company "Time Out", so it had a refreshing lack of cant in its take on the city. It didn't mention, however, in the chapter on the history of D.C., the oft-repeated explanation of why the city has such a strange and complicated street plan - supposedly to make it difficult for the British to invade. Well, the Brits are back again, D.C., so watch out!

Bored, eventually, with the Admirals Club, I wandered out to find a bite to eat, and to watch the crowds. I ended up in Chilis, where I ate a chicken-caesar salad, and looked idly at the occasional passing cutie in the concourse. I'm not sure why I still look at cute guys all the time. It's probably something most gay men do a lot of. It really serves no purpose - perhaps its just habitual. I certainly started early. When I was a teenager, I was completely obsessed with seeing cute guys. I'd look into every passing car, and through each open lighted window I walked past, all in the hope of seeing a handsome, young man, preferably with his shirt off. Today, in the terminal, there weren't any shirtless young men - there were a few wearing silly Santa Claus hats though :)

The flight out was delayed as, apparently, no less than four seats in First Class were being repaired. I hoped that my seat was not one of them. We eventually got on our way half an hour late, with four First Class seats taped off.

By seven o'clock, I was driving through a dark and frosty Maryland, on my way into D.C. The way into the city isn't promising. You pass through a typical downtrodden East-Coast neighborhood where you wouldn't like to suffer a flat-tire. And as I watched the side-streets pass by, I realized that although the Capitol dome was gleaming not too far ahead, my hotel looked like it would be on the edge of this neighborhood.

At least the hotel is very comfortable, if a little bland. My room is almost the size of my apartment back in San Francisco. I settled in, ordered room-service, checked my email, and then lay back to rest my still aching neck and shoulders. I'd brought my electric heating- pad with me, just in case, so I was able to get some heat on the sore areas while I lay in bed watching a teenage romantic comedy on HBO. As soon as girl had gotten boy, I switched the TV and heating pad off, and went straight to sleep.

At four-thirty, I woke with a start. There was a hullabuloo (what a wonderful word that is) outside in the coridoor. People shouting and carrying on. This went on for half an hour at least, and I feared that I'd never be able to get back to sleep. But I stuffed ear plugs firmly into my ears (where else would I put them?), took another melatonin, and, before long, I'd drifted off again, not to reawaken until a blessed eight-thirty.

So here I am - well-rested, no crick in my neck any longer, and ready for a lazy day. See y'all :)