I once had a goal to write a blog about myself every Valentine's 
Day. I "started" this tradition in 2015 and then failed to keep it for the
 next two years, which means I've never actually kept it at all. But in 
the interest of infusing some life into my languishing personal blog, I hereby make the effort to write about Valerie for Valentine's Day 2018.
The
 question is, what? I could write about what I wore for Valentine's Day,
 but that's already been done. Instead, I'll write about my Mardi Gras.
I've
 never done much for Mardi Gras. Never celebrated or dressed in its 
traditional colors or eaten paczki, even back when I lived in Toledo and
 everyone knew what they were. But this year, the feast fell the day 
before Valentine's Day, so I was already in the partying spirit when my 
boyfriend discovered a Mardi Gras celebration was being held down at the
 Wharf in DC.
He 
found out about it on Monday, which didn't give me much time to prepare.
 And in my book, a party's only worth attending if I can make some 
extravagant outfit to wear to it, so as soon as I got home from work, I 
set about making Mardi Gras mask. I used the white masquerade mask
 last seen at my friend's black and white party, and decorated it with 
green, gold, and purple glitter, topping it off with some gold plastic 
gemstones I salvaged from an old purse. I dyed the ostrich feather 
purple, but unfortunately that seemed to permanently alter its 
composition, so it ended up a little scraggly. Sorry, ostrich feather!
Still,
 I'd managed to make a pretty kick-ass mask with only a few hours to 
spare (I delayed my bedtime until a whopping eleven o'clock in order to 
finish the project!), but timing was still an issue, since the event 
started at 6 and ended at 8. With my boyfriend not being able to get out
 of the office until 5, that left us precious little leeway to navigate 
the treacherous traffic of DC and make it to Mardi Gras on time.
Unsurprisingly,
 we got off to a late start. At the last minute, we decided to bring the
 dogs with us, which necessitated hunting around for leashes and 
harnesses. I had to make a (very brief, but still it counts) stop at the
 Post Office blue box to drop off a package (I will refrain from ranting
 about how the mail carrier never picks up my scheduled package pickups,
 but that's what happened). Then, naturally, we had to stop for gas. No 
point filling up the tank when you actually have some time to do 
it...oh, no, we always have to wait until we're in a hurry to get 
somewhere.
By the time we got on the road, it was already 10 minutes to 6, and we had a 30-minute drive ahead of us. 
At
 this point, I removed the Mardi Gras parade from my plans for the 
evening, as it was supposed to end at 6:30, but we should still be able 
to make it for the dance party on the pier and fireworks. Local eating 
establishments were also supposed to have festive drink and food 
specials, so we could get some dinner. 
The
 next wrench in our plans came when my boyfriend missed the exit to the 
Wharf. In other places, when you miss your exit, you just turn around at
 the next one. In DC when you miss your exit, you end up in another 
state and have to turn in a giant loop to get back in the right 
direction. Next, he missed another turn, adding a total of 20 minutes to
 our trip. And that was before we hit the traffic jam around the wharf!
We
 were lucky enough to get a decent parking spot only a 10-minute walk 
from the Wharf. Unfortunately, we'd burned most of those ten minutes by 
the time he realized his phone was in the car. We turned back around to 
get the phone, spent a few minutes digging around in the car for the 
phone, then finally set back towards our destination. It was now 7:30. I
 scratched the dance party off my mental list as well. Basically all 
that was left for us was to maybe hit the tail end of the concert and 
then grab some dinner. We left the dogs in the car, since most eating 
establishments don't take kindly to their sort.
Fortunately,
 things started looking up from there. We did indeed get to hear a few 
songs on the pier, and watched a surprisingly impressive display of 
fireworks. It was unbelievable how many fireworks kept coming out of one
 tiny little boat! I got to wear my mask, and we even got dinner (though
 not anywhere near the Wharf. I don't know why we always forget that 
these events on the waterfront inevitably draw more people than the 
restaurants nearby can conceivably support). 


