My Holy Saturday started out fairly well. I ran a meeting and then I ran a run. I'm managing a very, very cool project that I can't QUITE go public with just yet, but I will soon!
For the run, I decided to go through the Rock Creek parkway. I discovered the parcourse (think parkcour type stuff) and meandered along. I skipped running through the Zoo (which is the shortest way home) and instead took the longer route that resulted in a few oddball turns, running past a "closed to pedestrians" sign. Ultimately, I netted 5.7 miles according to my Misfit Shine app. I don't have an idea of pace, but that's because I don't have a fancy Garmin style watch.
Then I got ready to head out to Holy Cross for Easter Vigil.
I was pretty excited this year. I was supposed to be long gone, as the Interim, but the stars aligned so I got a bonus Easter. And that means...
You might know that last year, the Easter Fire literally fizzled. I got nervous, tweaked the recipe at the last minute, and put it out in the yard too soon, so when I went to town with my cool Oregon survival tool, the sparks shone out brilliantly in the dying twilight for the merest of moments before fizzing out with a tiny scream of doomed hope. I had to light it, last year, with... a lighter.
This year I was determined to succeed! And because my survival tool was all packed away, it meant I had to succeed with nothing but a mini camping flint.
Plus it was windy!
This year, I practiced all week. I fine tuned the recipe. I did the recipe exactly like I should, and at the last moment, just before lighting, I heroically fought down the urge to add STILL MORE flammables at the last instant... (that was what did me in last year).
Two strikes of the flint, and the fire roared into existence! There was applause and not a few people said it was the coolest thing they'd seen.
That's one way to drop the mic on your last day at work.
In "funny DC stories"... I had a great moral victory on the way to work. I had just driven away from home when I remembered that I'd forgotten the parchment paper I'd promised to bring in, so I sped around the block to run and retrieve it. Just two blocks from my place, traffic came to a standstill.
I KNOW, right? WORST THING EVER. It's SATURDAY, people!
As I inched forward, I saw people pulling around this giant SUV parked in the right lane, just sitting here, BLOCKING EVERYTHING.
Me being me, I was mere nanoseconds from leaning on my horn and yelling an encouraging phrase meant to help the offending driver learn to move their vehicle in a more expedient manner, when (thankfully) I noticed it was not one, but several black SUVs. Black Suburbans, specifically. Black Suburbans with some very nice young men standing outside in suits.
That's right. That would be the Secret Service. Apparently, Michelle Obama likes to get her workout on at a particular studio, and sometimes goes to the gym in my neighborhood. All the tourists were out to see her come out from her workout, and yes, the Secret Service does rather block traffic in their Suburbans when the Obamas are up here in NW.
SO, at the end of the day, I DID **NOT** HONK AND YELL at the Secret Service. That probably would have been bad. I got around them and noodled away to get to back to my apartment, where I ran upstairs at warp speed, grabbed the forgotten parchment paper, and ran outside at even faster warp speed to jump into my car and speed off BEFORE Michelle Obama came out of her workout and shut down Wisconsin again by driving home to her house.
I beat the Motorcade! And I didn't CUSS at the Motorcade.
I'm freakin' heroic, that's what I am. Boom.