On my metro ride this morning, I saw multiple people wearing heavy coats and scarves. It was in the high fifties, with a high today near 80. Come on people. Not necessary.

Even worse was the girl I saw wearing a scarf in Oklahoma last weekend. It was over 100 degrees. I don’t care how trendy they are, scarves are never necessary when you would be hot if you were walking around naked.

Fricking Fall, it makes people crazy, I tell you.

Also, to be clear, it’s still not officially Fall. Viva Summer!

However unnecessary those things may be, I did a lot of very necessary stuff this weekend. Like that transition?

Neither do I. But, in my defense, I haven’t been able to see for like two weeks now, and it’s starting to fry my brain. I have an eye doctor’s appointment tomorrow to hopefully sort that out.

It kind of freaks me out that my vision got noticeably worse so quickly. I’ve had glasses/contacts for the past 19 years (that is just crazy), but I’ve never had such a sudden change in my vision. Kind of scary.

Anyway, this weekend. It was good. Friday night I swore off all social interaction in order to stay home and catch up with Tim Riggins. He missed me. The feeling was mutual. We hung out for five hours to rectify that situation.

Saturday, was busier – lunching with the future in-laws, checking out a possible wedding venue and getting caught in a torrential downpour in the process, and watching the Sooners game at the OU bar in Crystal City with Kelly.

Some of those activities were more fun than others, but I didn’t have to get on a plane or listen to screaming children or wake up at the crack of dawn so it was still more relaxing than many Saturdays have been of late.

Sunday, we had plans to go out to Mount Vernon, but instead chose to stay in the district and walk around for hours enjoying the gorgeous weather.

First, we fueled up with an al fresco brunch.

A few things I should note:

1. While Lavagna has great Italian food, I wouldn’t recommend ordering their breakfast items at their brunch. Not so good. Pasta is better.

2. Speaking of things that are not necessary, what is up with the bloody Mary situation on the East Coast? I swear I cannot get a good one here. First of all, most places either want to contaminate them with clam/oyster juice (WHY?) and/or horseradish. Gag me. Also, so many places seem to think that people enjoy sucking huge chunks of ground pepper or rosemary through their straws. I do not want solid, crunchy things in my beverage. All a good bloody Mary needs is a spicy tomato base, good vodka, worchestershire or tabasco and some veggie garnishments. Stop with the disgusting add-ins!

3. There was a child who ran by our table three times SCREAMING BLOODY MURDER and squealing like an injured pig. It was abhorrent. Also, Tom said that the same child was actually punching his mother in the face. Reason 456,792 I will not be reproducing.

So actually, that brunch served more to annoy me than to fuel me for the day ahead, but whatever. Lesson learned.

From there we walked to another possible wedding venue, that we actually quite liked, and then checked out the Reflecting Pool – which has been closed for renovations since I moved here and just re-opened.

Maybe I’m just a tough critic, but I was not impressed.

Seeing as how I was dying of thirst and needed to pee by the time we got there (not to mention the annoying brunch), I may have just been in a pissy mood. But I think they could have done better.

Just like the Sooners, I’ve decided I’m the authority on all things DC. Don’t question me.*

After that I showed Tom how to shop, one of my finest skills, and then stuffed my face with gelato and more Tim Riggins. Very necessary.

*Not really. I’m only the authority on all things Sooners. Well that, and proper seasonal attire/bloody Mary making. I can’t help it that I just know everything, now can I?

Have you busted out the scarves/coats yet? I did wear boots and a trench coat to the bar Saturday night after swimming down Pennsylvania Avenue earlier in the day. I hate wet feet, but I still kind of shook my head at myself.