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).
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