I'm in a piping good mood this morning. Could it be that I like staying in nice hotels in beautiful neighborhoods (for the Marriott is in the neat, tree-lined side-streets near Dupont)? Or is that just that it's a treat to be having a day off work when everybody else is working (since I travelled here on Saturday, I've decided that today is actually my make-up Saturday)? Or was it the run I've just returned from? Lord, it's a stunningly beautiful day here; I ran along Massachussets Avenue, past embassy after embassy, and then down into the quiet streets that border Rock Creek. The sky was a brilliant clear blue, the air was warm, the streets still wet from yesterday's rain, and red and yellow leaves covered the ground. It brought back waves of nostalgia for me to be out in such beautiful Fall weather; we don't really get that experience in San Francisco.

Late Sunday evening, Shawn, my ex boyfriend who lives in Maryland, arrived fresh from Thanksgiving with his family in Columbus. It was past eleven by the time he came knocking at the door, and, since I'd been up at 4.00 a.m. that morning to catch my flight, I was pretty darned tired. But he persuaded me to go for a drink at this "cute little place around the corner.". The little place turned out to be a dance club, and around the corner was actually about twenty minutes walk. But it was a beautiful, warm evening (t-shirt weather at midnight in the last week of November), and the club was indeed cute, and there were even cute boys to look at! I ran into yet another ex boyfriend, Jorge, a hunky physician whom I'd dated in Philadelphia sometime after Shawn and I broke up. I hadn't seen him in years, so he gave me his phone number and I'm going to try to fit him into my hectic social schedule on this trip.

Shawn pouted a little when I told him I wanted to go back to the hotel, but I could hardly keep my eyes open, and the cigarette smoke didn't help. Soon, we were in bed together for the first time in ... I don't know ... maybe eight years. I think both of us were instantly aware of the sexual tension between us as we lay there, lights out, in our underpants. It was Shawn who broke the ice by telescoping his feelings, so to speak, by emitting a long sigh. We ended up in each other's arms. It was an oddly familiar feeling.

I'd been in love with Shawn when I was quiet young - twenty two - and I always felt so secure lying in his strong arms. It's a feeling I've never recaptured. Partly because I've never since dated somebody who was big and strong enough to wrap himself around me. But also because I've never felt the same about anybody since Shawn. I remember that sometimes I'd truly feel almost transported when I was with him; understanding that saying "we were one flesh". Of course, I didn't feel anything like that now with him - that's long past, but it was a nice feeling, nonetheless, to lie there with him. It was always the case, though, that he was horny at night, and me in the morning. So nothing really happened in the end, I'm sorry to tell you.

Since I'm never very good at sleeping in somebody's arms, I don't think I got to sleep until five, but we did, at least, sleep until eleven. We lazed around the hotel room until about one, though, before finally making it out for an unremarkable brunch at Annie's on 17th Street. It was unremarkable except for one thing; Shawn set himself up for a future date with the guy at the next table. He's much more of an operator than I am, but that goes without saying.

Brunch at Annies

It was another warm day, but much wetter. There was a beauty in the way the yellow leaves that still remained on the trees, reflected off the damp pavement.

We drove over to the Phillips Collection, a modern art museum housed in a couple of old mansions near Dupont Circle. I'd never visited the museum before, and I can't believe what I've been missing. It's one of the most beautiful small museums I've ever seen. There was an exquisite exhibition of Impressionist still-lives, and the permanent collection, set in beautifully scaled small rooms furnished with little stylish chairs and colorful fireplaces, was a joy.

In the Phillips Collection

Shawn took off for home in the early evening, in the midst of a downpour, and I stayed in and around the hotel, hanging out with another friend who happened to be in DC for the weekend. I got to bed early, thankfully, slept well, and ... here I am. Unfortunately, I can't stay in this hotel, because it's only cheap on the weekends. So I'm moving just a few blocks away to a smaller, but still comfortable, place on P Street. Tomorrow, my mini-vacation ends and work intrudes with the first of two days of training in Maryland. Pout.