My perfect (birthday) weekend

I’m a sucker for the “Sunday Routine” section of the New York Times. And I recently discovered the “My Perfect Weekend” section in The Telegraph. In addition to a glimpse into the lives of the famous (and most not so famous), it’s heartening to read how their lives are not so different from mine in their little weekend rituals. I find it hard to believe though, that all of what they say is actually part of their routine – some of it may be their idea of a perfect Sunday rather than their actual Sunday. I am fine with putting in aspirational activities too (like waking up at 5 am and going for a 5-mile jog)!  Just that I’d like to make that aspirational list an actual list sometimes. And last weekend was (one of) my idea of a perfect weekend!

It started with the Jazz in the Garden on Friday evening, the summer long free event at the Sculpture Garden in D.C. Sipping on a delicious Sangria, PG and I listened to the music, wishing we had a blanket and a picnic basket.  Our dinner was at Chinatown Express that was recently featured in the Washingtonian (D.C.’s guide to everything) and the Washington Post, and it was packed. The place had a fish tank with live fish/crabs/lobsters for patrons to pick from that both of us agreed was very authentically Chinese. I have no pictures to share but maybe that’s best, because the restaurant wasn’t very pretty.

Saturday started with a hearty birthday breakfast by PG; a “picnic” in our backyard – where we gorged on baguette and cheese, antipasto, fruit and chocolate, and beer; an afternoon at a café with our books and beverages, and a big dinner at a fancy (farm to table) restaurant that opened a few months ago in our neighborhood.


We ended the day with a documentary on Bill Cunningham who is the fashion photographer for New York Times. Making rounds of Manhattan everyday on his bicycle, Bill Cunningham scouts out celebrities, fashion personalities and everyday people on the streets for fashion that catches his eye. Despite the nature of his jobs and the obvious influence he commands among the who’s who of the fashion world (including Anna Wintour), he came across as an endearing person given to ending even his most serious statements with a little giggle. Far removed from fashion in his own life, wearing a French workman’s blue jacket everyday, he exclaimed how it would be nice to actually have clothes to hang in the closet of his new apartment (his old one was in the Carnegie Hall building with no closet, kitchen or private bathroom, but plenty of filing cabinets). He later had the kitchen and closet demolished to make way for his filing cabinets. Well, enough of my description. Now go watch already!

My Sunday highlight was a brunch of pancakes and mimosas at a friend’s, where we went a little overboard with the chocolate chips. Ah, food coma!

C’est tout.