As we take off from Baltimore-Washington International, bound for Dallas, on a half-empty flight, I'm feeling flush with contentment. You'd think that getting up, full of a bad head cold, at 3.45 on a frigid Washington morning would be enough to put anyone in a bad mood. And indeed, yesterday evening, as I packed, I wasn't looking forward to this morning. Yet, everything went so smoothly this morning: I got off without a hitch, since, luckily, the powerful winter storm bypassed D.C. and hit only to the northwards. And I had plenty of time this morning to look back on the week just passed, and be happy with it.

Jed left yesterday afternoon, after an all-too-brief stay. He'd been supposed to stay until this morning, but since I was thick with cold, and the trains were still running up to Philadelphia, I persuaded him that it was best to leave early. He was so kind and affectionate with me while I was sick; it gave me a nice warm feeling.

The previous morning, I saw Bob off on his drive back home to Ohio first thing, and then relaxed for a while before it was time to head out to pick Jed up. I got to Union Station early, so I parked and went for a look around. It is a beautiful station, both inside and out.

Jed arrived on schedule, all smiles, carrying a large box covered in Christmas wrapping paper. Back at the hotel, I shook it gingerly - it was suspiciously heavy, and clanked, as if it contained multiple objects. I had a guess at the kind of objects it might contain, and my guess proved correct: cooking implements and spices. I suppose that this is a gentle hint that it's time I bought myself some pots and pans and occasionally offered to cook for my boyfriend instead of always going out to Pasta Pomodoro :) Happily, this coincided with my own resolution to surprise Jed, when he comes back to the Bay Area on the 8th, with a home-cooked meal.

At this time, my cold didn't feel too bad, so I didn't feel like I needed to stay in the hotel. Rather than go sight-seeing, though, we went shopping instead - to Pentagon City, and the large shopping-mall. As is usual, whenever we've gone shopping, we both tried on clothes, and I ended up buying something, while he came home empty-handed. I bought khaki cargo-pants from Abercrombie and Fitch (where I swooned a little over a strapping sales boy with a masculine yet angelic face and long eyelashes, dressed in a pale-blue, open-necked shirt with his sleeves rolled up). It's funny that we both have trouble finding clothes to fit: me, because of my extremely long appendages - it's so hard to find a size 36 inseam. Jed has a quite different problem - there are few choices for someone with a twenty-eight inch waist.

Jed has been stuffing himself for the last two weeks with home-cooked food at his parent's house in New Jersey, so he'd come prepared to exercise some of it off at the hotel gym. I settled for taking a nap instead, and, afterwards, by the time we were both ready for dinner, I'd started to feel under the weather. So we ate in the nice, quiet hotel dining room, a restaurant called "Florentine". Our waiter was an Irish guy of about Jed's age, obviously gay, and somewhat flustered, for some reason. If we asked him a question, his hands would fly off in all directions and his body would squirm as he tried to provide the answers. At all events, he was a hospitable waiter - he furnished me with a free bowl of clam chowder after I'd admired Jed's, and after I'd consumed my own bowl of the more sensible chicken soup.

Oh, I know, this is a kind of boring journal entry isn't it? No nervous introspection, just happily married contentment. Will this journal ever be the same? :)