A Study in Climatic Extremes

I hate packing for trips. Hate. But. Truth be told. There is one thing I hate even more than the pre-trip pack. And that is...the post-trip unpack.

Oh, how I hate it. Words cannot describe.

I mean, really. Is there anything more tedious and, frankly, more depressing than unloading suitcases stuffed to the gills with clothes, now dirtied from all your adventures? Reminding you that all the fun you were looking forward to during the pre-trip pack (the anticipation of which is the only thing that got you through the miserable chore) is now lost and gone forever and all you have to show for it is a mountain of laundry. (Okay, you might have a tan and some fun stuff you bought with your birthday money, 'cause, as it turns out, fun stuff is obscenely cheap in the States, which makes birthday money loads more fun there than you'll find it to be in Australia.
 
But, oh the post-trip unpack. What a downer!
 
And two weeks worth of post-trip unpack just adds insult to injury. Especially two weeks spent back and forth between seasonal opposites. Forget packing light when you'll need everything from sweaters and winter coats to sunscreen and flip flops.

But what a two weeks it was! (Two weeks it was? What a two weeks they were...? Hum.)
 
As soon as we arrived back in the motherland, the Hubs had to go straight to DC for work, but I got to dawdle my way across the country starting with a blessed morning in LA where a friend treated me to brunch in Santa Monica. (I don't think I'll ever be able to quit Santa Monica. It's just too...Santa Monica.)
 
Then it was several days in Dallas. Just in time for the ice storm that shut the entire city down a few days before the Super Bowl, maybe you heard about it. And seriously? I get three days in Dallas, not to return again for who knows how long, and this is what I get? I mean, it's not like I had plans or anything.... Nope. No big plans. No plans involving Mexican food and a decent Target, and most likely a Banana Repub. Work with me! The withdrawals are killing me.
 
(I know, I know. It looks like nothing. But this is ice, people. Not snow. Totally different things. And temps didn't get above freezing for days. I probably don't need to tell you about how ice has this way of hanging around when temps don't rise above freezing....)

 
On to DC. DC was different this time. (Probably 'cause I was staying in a hotel. With a man.) But DC was also the same. In all the right ways. My girls. Georgetown Cupcake. Cheesetique. And how.

(I meant to take a picture of my three little perfect G-town cupcakes, and then forgot and ate them instead. So, all I have is this picture of G-town itself in all its wintery-ness, from across the river. Which, depending on your point of view...and possibly on how much you like cupcakes...is not nearly so pretty as the Chocolate3, Red Velvet, and Birthday cupcakes cozying up to each other in their little pink box. And that, my friends, is why my blog will never win any awards.)

And finally a little weekend in the Dominican Repub to wrap it all up. It was the J-dubhub's work team retreat. I'm here to tell you, there are worse places to be than the Dominican Republic in February.