Heather Anne

Dear Diary,

Today I went to DC to visit Kat, Jennie, and Abigail for Thanksgiving! My flight was delayed a little, and almost delayed a lot, because some douche bag on the plane started swearing at the pilot to hurry the eff up, like Greg Focker. You can’t say bomb on a plane. What if I was a bombardier? Bomb, bomb, bomb. Bomb-ba-ba-bomb. They finally subdued the guy with a soda and a bag of United Airlines “award-winning” snack mix. The woman who was sitting by him (rightfully scared for her life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness) came and sat by me, which was awesome, because you know what? Her name was Tammy and she had a little something that changed my life: The Kindle. (Click that link. You won’t be sorry.)

Abigail and Kat met me at Washington National, and Dear Diary, I knew Kat was beautiful; I’ve seen pictures of her. But I’ve gotta tell ya: in real life? She is so pretty that I had to look away from her speedy quick before she burned my retinas like when you stare directly into the sun. On the cab ride to her apartment I kept sneaking glances to see if she got uglier in different lighting. She did not. The thing that ultimately saved me from having to blindfold myself for the whole weekend was that Kat had the best laugh I have ever heard. It tickled my ears and every time she laughed, I laughed. It was a disarming laugh, a true one, and it made it easier to deal with her beautifulness.

Also, she made me the best present in the world. Made it. With her bare hands. An England pillow with my name on one side and England on the other.

At Kat’s apartment, I met her boyfriend, Seth, and he was dreamy. He’s so tall and excellent, and he has lovely brown eyes. I would have swooned over him, but he got all busy and important and had to do some work. Abigail suggested we play Monopoly, and I was all, “You want to play Monopoly? With me?” All incredulous-like. I mean, Abigail knows me. Surely it’s come up in conversation that I haven’t lost a game of Monopoly since I was twelve. But she said yes, and Kat said yes, and even Seth (who was using big lawyer words on an important phone call) said yes. And maybe it was because he was on the phone working for half the game, or maybe it was because he didn’t know about my secret den of Monopoly trophies, but Seth started talking smack to me when he sat down at the board. I gave him a sad smile, because how could he have known how awesome I am? He couldn’t have. But he ultimately did. When he had to give me all of his money and property. And also when I took away his little pewter game piece and made a necklace out of it.

After I became the Monopoly champion, Kat decided to cook dinner. And its name was lamb lollipops, roasted asparagus, corn soufflé, biscuits, and Caesar salad. And also Seth’s homemade chocolate mouse. (Which made him dreamy all over again.) Kat is kind of famous on the Internets for her chef-ness, and in person she was a fearsome sight to behold. She’s got this rack that holds her recipes so she can, like, study them. She writes her own notes in the margins (like the Half-Blood Prince). She’s speaks cooking in French. And her knives are made by samurais. (I am not kidding.)

I fell in love with Kat a little bit more when she let me wear an apron and use her ninja knives. Abigail was kind of a show-off in the kitchen, and when Kat said, “Use a flat spoon for the roux,” Abigail knew exactly what she was talking about. I guess, if you wanted, you could call Abigail a gourmet goddess. Or a teacher’s pet. Either way, when the night was done, Kat said, “Heather, you are the best sous chef ever.” And she spelled it out for me: s-o-u-s. (It’s French. It means “If I were President of Ninjas, you would be my Chief of Throwing Stars.”)

Abigail and I checked into our hotel at midnight(ish), and then she decided she wanted to go see the sights. It was about four degrees and the wind was whipping around like mad, but we went out anyway, because when Abigail is excited, who can say no to her? Not me. Let me tell you this: there are no people on the streets in Washington DC on Thanksgiving. Literally, none. It’s almost apocalyptic. We walked up to and around the Washington Monument and no one bothered us at all. If you’re super nice and you love to travel, I suppose that is what heaven will be like: historical monuments free of grimy tourists and screaming kids. When we got back to the hotel, Abs plotted out our course on Goole Maps (her lover). We walked four miles. In the middle of the night. In the freezing cold wind. It was awesome.

Tomorrow, Jennie gets here. I cannot wait.

XOXO

Heather Anne

(Tomorrow: Jennie! arrives, and calls the Washington Monument “a giant wang poking up into the sky.” Kat makes homemade herb butter and stuffs it into the turkey, creating the most succulent breasts imaginable. Abigail gets serious rage playing SpongeBob Uno. Winston decides to be my friend. And Seth continues being dreamy by coining the most-used phrase for the entire trip: Super Absorbency.)