The weekend started as I managed to get out of work at a reasonable time (five minutes ahead of schedule aactually) and take the Metro all the way up to Wheaton to visit Abi for Shabbat. Randomly, on the Metro I sat down next to someone also reading HP: OTP.
Alas, Abi’s fiance was not in town this weekend, so I couldn’t wish both of them a Mazel Tov. I arrived with about 20 minutes to spare before Shabbat started (yay for long summer days) and we walked over to shul for Ma’ariv. It was pretty much your basic Orthodox service. Came back to Abi’s very nice apartment where she stuffed me with food and uniquely-shaped challah. Since it was inappropriate for me to sleep at Abi’s place, I stayed at a married couple’s house within walking distance. Michael and Sharon, my hosts, had a cute 1-year-old baby boy. They were also playing hosts two quite attractive Israel girls who were visiting the east coast after teaching Hebrew in California for a year.
Saturday was services followed by lunch at Abi’s with another couple; then the traditional Shabbat nap and walk. We saw a couple Orioles (Maryland state bird and mascot of a star-crossed baseball team) on our outdoor trek. Seudah Shlishit, the traditional third big meal of Shabbat, was a gathering of many MIT Hillel alums replete with fascinating political discussions.
I left shortly after havdalah on Saturday and didn’t get home until very late. Of course that didn’t stop by from reading HP until the wee hours of the morning. Wow, Harry has some serious issues in this book; I really think he has Posttraumatic Stress Disorder.
Sunday I made vegetarian reubens for lunch with abridged WW crew. I didn’t completely drain the sauerkraut, so they were a little soggy. I thought they tasted great, but I must admit that wasn’t the unanimous sentiment. I probably should just stick to Rice Krispie treats.
Sunday evening I went to a family friend’s wedding in Leesburg, VA. My table was quite boring: too many F/S types. So I went over to another table that included a cool cousin, her very nice boyfriend, and her cousin who looks just like an 11-yr-old Ginny Weasley. I spent much of the last half-hour teaching Ginny (okay, her name was really Emily) genetics and heredity. The discussion started when I mentioned Adam and Eve and she retorted (with a touch of sarcasm) “I believe in the monkeys.” And that’s why I like kids so much.
LOTD (from enjanerd): a self-referential story