HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOG! xx

MOST HAZARDOUS DISCOVERY: it is annoying that shops don't open until noon, but they stay open until 10pm on Saturdays, which allows you to visit them after a cocktail or five, potentially leading to many misguided impulse buys.

Today is my sister's birthday - happy birthday, Bijou!

In other news, yesterday the temperature hit 89 degrees!! Have you *seen* how pale I am? Except I'm not now - I've gone all freckly and am building up something of a tan. It's just tricky to remember that even though we're not on holiday, I still need to wear suncream and a hat. I managed the cream bit yesterday, but not the hat and came over all peculiar.

I did so on a huge long walk we took so that I could show Max some of the neighbourhoods I discovered, like U Street and 14th Street. In doing so, we happened upon a great many extremely exciting boutiques and purveyors of snazzy threads. I am now the proud owner of a nice white tea dress, a slinky going-out top, some glittery heeled thongs (flip flops) AND some kickass white sunglasses that make me look like a bug (or Twiggy in the 60s).

We found the Black Cat, which is the main live music venue here and within walking distance of our flat, and some cool stationery shops and things, so everyone is in for good birthday presents this year! (erm, except Marina - sorryyyy!)

Last night, we went for dinner with Jeffrey and Helene. Jeffrey is one of Max's parents greatest friends who they met during their time at Princeton and who lives in New Jersey. Helene is his partner who we hadn't met before.

They picked a very popular and fancy Greek/Lebanese/Turkish restaurant down near Chinatown and it was fantastic. The food was all little bits of mezze, but all extremely tasty and we had some amazing wine. Yet another one for the list of restaurants to take people to when they come and visit.

Over supper, I got the feeling that Jeffrey and Helene had based their visit to DC around seeing us, so when they asked for recommendations of places to have breakfast in Adams Morgan, I suggested they come to our apartment. This meant a late night supermarket dash on the way home, but not before we ducked into a shoe shop and finally bought me a pair of MBT sandals (Mum, Dad and Tom say these things are amazing - they're 'physiological' shoes, which make you walk properly, help any joint problems and tone your legs, bum and tummy while you walk).

Bouncing around on my new shoes, I followed Max into Benetton (at 10pm! On a Saturday night!) to help him in his ongoing quest for a nice short-sleeved shirt and found that shopping while drunk makes you befriend shop assistants far more easily and perhaps buy more things than you need/want. Hey, but Gail was very nice and recommended a good volunteering website for me (as well as a fancy linen jacket for Max), so it wasn't not all bad.

We got caught in crazy torrential rain on the way home, which freshened things up such that today was actively chilly - a surprisingly welcome change to the insane heat and sunniness of the past couple of weeks.

We put on a fine breakfast spread for Jeffrey and Helene and fortunately it didn't matter a bit that they came half an hour earlier than arranged, as Stompy had already woken us up long before. Grrr.

Having been quite smug, and almost a little worried that they weren't working, when my MBTs appeared to have no effect on me last night, I woke up this morning feeling like I'd spent all yesterday doing stomach crunches. Aye carumba! So sore! But hey, if that's the pain I have to take for what I imagine is quite a lot of gain, then that's fine.

I left Jeffrey and Helene looking at the album of wedding photos that Tom and Bambi made for us and went to church for the first time since we got here. There's one just around the corner from our apartment. I was a little worried that the service would be really odd and difficult to follow, but it turns out that St Margaret's prides itself on its inclusivity. And its literature goes on at length about how it tries to be as gender-balanced as possible. As such - and Mum would've FREAKED - the vicar and two vergers were female, any reference to 'he' in the readings was changed to 'God' and I swear I heard them refer to the Holy Spirit as 'she'.

It was nice to sing familiar hymns and in fact the service was very similar to British ones, except there was real bread at communion and it was really really odd to hear the whole thing conducted in a southern American accent. But everyone was very welcoming and it seems a nice enough place. Weirdly though, it gave me only my second bout of homesickness, as I found myself missing St Peters back in Hammersmith.

This afternoon we ventured to yet another new part of town to see 'Shine A Light' and were very excited, as Word magazine says it's the best performance film ever made. We were a little skeptical, as we both love 'The Last Waltz', and indeed were not blown away. Although the concert looked all very exciting, it had no real soul or substance and certainly removed any inclination we had to see the Rolling Stones live, though did make us want to rush home and listen to the records again. It changed my opinion of Ronnie Wood from one of mook to good chap and Mick Jagger has a very nice wardrobe and teeny hips. Ooh, and Jack White (or Jack White III as he's apparently now known) and Christina Aguilera did great duets, but Buddy Guy was just amaaaazing. I spent most of the film hypnotized how weird and stringy all the Stones' arms are (and how Mick Jagger appeared to have an armadillo down his trousers), while Max couldn't get over the fact that Mick is the same age as our dads, but significantly more jiggy.

It was nice on the way there, because I couldn't remember which metro stop we had to get out at and no fewer than 5 people on the tube helped us. Two of whom travelled down the carriage to help, when they heard us asking for advice! Turns out they weren't right, but still - it's nice.

A WHOLE NEW MAX

BEST NIGHT OF TV: Thursday - 'Ugly Betty', followed by 'The Office', then '30 Rock' and 'ER' (flicking to 'Step It Up & Dance in the ad breaks of 'ER').

Life has got back to normal since we got back from our roadtrip and I haven't had any more adventures.

I do however have to report a most worrying phenomenon of even greater concern than Stompy (yeah, SO wasn't happy to return to him on Wednesday): it's called Mega-Max. It's the post-Pennsylvania, ass-kicking journalist version of my lovely husband who SHAVES EVERY DAY, tucks his shirt in, checks his Blackberry at home and gets unsolicited emails from people in the New York office who just so happen to've read his articles and want to meet up if he's ever in town. He's being networked! My Maxos! This is most unsettling.

As was watching 'Baby Mama' tonight, as the opening shot is a big aerial sweep of a city which we instantly recognised as being Phila-freakin'-delphia!! We'd never have recognised it before our bus tour and couldn't quite believe that we were being transported back there by the film.

Hey, but 'Baby Mama' was really funny and Amy Poehler was particularly hilaaaarious. We would very much like to be friends with her and her husband, Will Arnett. Funneeee.

Seeing the movie involved an intrepid expedition to Georgetown on the bus, which I spent about an hour mapping out in minute detail this afternoon and which was executed flawlessly, but for the bus taking 20 mins instead of the 5 that the route planner promised us. But fortunately I built in enough contingency time for this not to be a problem. Wow, I really need a job.

And next week I'll have one! Yesterday, my boss from where I was last working in London called up to ask me to do a week's writing work for him, so that will keep me busy and hopefully bring in a bit of pocket money for another Gap run. Erm, or groceries. Or to retrospectively pay for the massive flagons of gin and rum I bought yesterday which really did put the finishing touches to our flat!

Going into the cinema for 'Baby Mama', we were asked to come back next Tuesday for a test screening of the new Spike Lee film, which is exciting - that never happened to us in London. And it was great when we came out of the movie, because we just wandered around Georgetown for a few minutes looking for somewhere to eat and, not only were lots of people milling around on the pavement in that nice summer evening way, but we immediately found a really nice restaurant and had a great meal. It very much seems to be the DC way. Then we just sauntered home, as the DC way appears to include most places being within walking distance.

PHOTOS: DEVOS DO DC pt.1

Click HERE for random photos of our time in DC so far...

SMELL YOU LATER, PHILLY

MOST HAZARDOUS THING I SAW TODAY: windowcleaners on a cradle on the side of a massively high skyscraper.

Max completely aced it. He got back to the hotel at 2am last night, having not only written his colour piece (click here), but he also had to write an analysis of the exit polls at the last minute, too (click here). A correspondent had been commissioned to do the analysis but then didn't/couldn't, so Max stepped into the breach and knocked it off! 

The evil Blackberry informed us at 8am this morning that his London boss thinks both articles are 'impressive'! Hooray! It's such a weight off Maxy's shoulders that he's got this whole trip over and done with and managed to produce such well-received work. While also really enjoying it, I think. 

And I got to drive back across country, which I enjoy, too. Leaving Philadelphia was a bit of a nightmare, because there were lots of diversions, but I realised that the policemen directing us must be Keystone Cops, cos Pennsylvania is the Keystone State! It's been really sunny and we went much closer to Baltimore this time, so saw the docks and signs to Annapolis, all of which got us very excited about 'The Wire'. We also went through Delaware, so our state tally is slowly building. 

We stopped off at an out-of-town K Mart on our way back to DC, to get some food, and it was easily one of the bleakest experiences I've had. Everyone there just looked really miserable and I swear I detected a sad look in the eyes of the many many babies being wheeled around. It was an emporium o' tat too far for me, and we laid down some rubber getting away.

I was sad to say goodbye to my roadtrip buddy as Max went into the Bureau this afternoon, but fun to pootle around the flat arranging all our Ikea things. We now have many fairy lights and nice bedding and lamps and a coffee table and stuff, which are the finishing touches the flat needed to look lovely and homely. It now ROCKS!

I caught a clip of an extraordinary show on the TV as I was a-pootlin'. The show is based on the lie detector revelations of programmes like 'Jerry Springer' and 'Trisha'. Basically, contestants get paid for telling the truth, but the contestants are invariably people with terrible secrets of infidelity and stuff. So in order to win the money, they have to destroy their relationship. The clip I saw was of a woman admitting that she'd had extra-marital sex and wished she was married to someone else, all while her husband was just sitting there, but her money total was racking up. So, after destroying this poor chap's life and revealing herself to be a bad 'un, all in pursuit of $200,000, she was asked one final question: 'do you think you're a good person?', to which she said, 'yes'. And it was a lie! She lost the money! By lying to herself. Awesome.

Hey, and a weather lady described the upcoming temperatures this week as being 'snazzy'. Take note, Sian Lloyd! Good lingo!

All the sorting out and marvelling at the TV took it out of me, so we ate out for supper. We finally checked out the Belgian cafe at the end of our street and had extremely tasty crepes and saucisson sec. It was amazing, to be eating outside at 10pm on an April evening and the place was packed, so felt all very European and cafe culture-y. We made friends with the owner, who's a flamboyant fellow called Bob and whose brother (who we also met) is now going to suggest calling his impending daughter Sophie (but who doesn't like his own name of Gary. Poor Gary).  

We feel very much as though DC life has started in earnest, now Max has proved himself with the PA trip and I don't have to spend anymore time feathering our nest. Woohoo!

PHOTOS: PENNSYLVANIA

Click HERE for photos of our trip to Harrisburg and Philadelphia for the Pennsylvania Primary.

[if you click on a photo, it gets big and has captions]

THE DAY OF THE PENNSYLVANIA PRIMARY

COOLEST THING I SAW TODAY: the west Philadelphia playground where Will Smith spent most of his days

Since we got to DC, everything job-wise for Maxy has been building to today and he's been a little anxious about it. The past few days have proved that he'll take it all brilliantly in his stride, but he woke up at 5am this morning, having to email his boss something he forgot to put in yesterday's article and was really on edge.

In good news, we had the whole of today to ourselves, as Max didn't have to go to work until Clinton's rally started at 8pm. 

We watched TV in our room for a while - including an astonishing interview with some members of the Texan sect in which the interviewer quizzed the women about their sense of style and identical hairstyles. This line of questioning did not go down so well with the bemused sect ladies. We also watched an entertainment report programme which prides itself on 'going beyond just the facts', which we thought was a funny way to say they make stuff up.

We figured with so little time in the city, the best way to see all the sights would be a touristy bus tour, so hopped on top of a bus that was disappointingly identical to the tourist buses in London and whizzed around Philadelphia with a tour guide pointing stuff out (all our photos are here). There was a worrying sign of how much Max has changed over the past few days, when I caught him checking his evil Blackberry on the top of the bus! Who knew it would come to this?!

Philadelphia is a really odd city and the tour didn't help me warm to it more than my Old Navy dash last night. I wonder if it's like what New York was like about 20 years ago - kind of scuzzy and lacking cohesion. It was nice to get a sense of the history of the city - it's where the Declaration of Independence was signed and, according to our tour guide, is the site of many of the biggest, oldest or first things in the States. So we saw the allegedly tallest building with a statue on the top (I swear there are taller in London), the hospital where the first gallbladder operation took place (by daylight no less! And with no anaesthetic! Well I never), the hotel where the first bout of Legionnaires disease broke out and the site of the first indoor football game ever. Hey, and we also saw locations that feature in 'Brewster's Millions' and of course the steps from 'Rocky' (aka the Museum of Art):

The city does have nice bits here and there, but they felt few and far between and I was glad that we were whizzing around the place on a bus, as I don't think it's a particularly nice city to saunter around. It's nice, I already feel settled enough in DC to be looking forward to getting back there. 

After our tour, we headed to the hotel where Clinton's rally is taking place, so that Max could get his press credentials. The city feels amazing today - there's a real buzz to it, with people demonstrating for Obama or Clinton on the street, cars honking for whoever they support and masses and masses of media vans with huge satellite dishes lining the street where the hotel is. 

I left Max to it, but not before reminding myself how much I dislike TV news crews - all dismissive and unhelpful and thinking they're the bee's knees. On my way out of the hotel, I bumped into some chap and we had a long chat about the election. His son is a marine and very pro-Obama and anti-Bush. I've never been somewhere so engaged with politics and certainly have never had so many conversations about it with random people on the street before. For all my dislike of the city itself, it's very exciting and interesting to be here today in particular.

Later on, Max trotted off to the rally, looking very swish in his suit and shorn face. He's off having supper with Justin Webb and his producer, who he bumped into when he was getting his credentials. The plan for tonight is that Maxy soak up the atmosphere at the Clinton rally and interview a few folks then write up a 'colour' piece about it all.

I meanwhile hung out in the hotel room and had my first ever Phillysteak, courtesy of room service. When I rang to ask if they do cheesesteak, they informed me that yes, and tonight's flavour is blueberry. In any other city, I could totally understand someone mistaking my request for cheesesteak as one for cheesecake. But seriously, in Philadelphia? That's crazy!

I had great plans to go for a swim after my food, but it just sunk to my stomach and stayed there like a deepfried Mars bar, and I felt as full two hours after eating as I did just after I'd finished it, so I watched 'The Office' instead and got very excited that I got a cultural reference that I wouldn't have got before we moved here. Woo!

Hey and - dun dun daaa - I stayed awake for the late night talkshows!! I was still waiting for my supper to digest and thought I'd try staying up for Maxy, so managed to see Leno and a bit of Letterman and Conan's opening monologue and couldn't physically stand Craig Ferguson, so gave up on him. Leno was kind of boring, Letterman seemed funny but I didn't recognise the guest and Conan was HILARIOUS. So I feel good for having finally managed to watch them, but am not so sad I've missed them all this time. I'm very excited about Conan taking over from Leno, though. This is a good thing.

A bad thing is that I'm massively sunburnt on my shoulders and back. It must've happened on the bus, but it really hasn't been that hot today and certainly not that sunny. My gift is obviously being able to get sunburnt when there is no sun. Great.

THE STREETS OF PHILADELPHIA

NEW COCKTAIL DISCOVERY: Pomegranate margarita. Mmmmm.

remember, anything in a different colour is a link. Click on it to be taken to a relevant website

When we woke up this morning, we still didn't know where we were going to be going, which was kind of annoying. It was also kind of annoying to see that Maxy's colour piece had been subbed down. I felt very attached to it and thought it was great the way he'd filed it. But apparently Max knew it'd been a little long, and the only cuts made by the editor back in London were to bring the length down (bet you wish someone would do the same for my blog! Sorryyyy). 

So Tracey is the lady from the hotel on Saturday night, Amy is the lady from the mall (before stinky security guard stopped us), Mary Cain is the lady on the porch in the rain and Mayra is the final Clinton supporter we found at the strip mall.

Ironically, of the three photos that were used in the final article, two were Maxy's idea (the one at the top, of the capitol building and the one of the flags. Shame they chose an out of focus one) and the other (of Mary Cain) was taken by him! So my contributions kind of bit the dust, but that's very much as it should be, I guess.

I really like this hotel-and-driving life, which bodes well for the trans-America roadtrip Max and I hope to do at the end of our stay in DC.

We finally found out where Max was needed most, and headed off to Philadelphia, where he'll be covering the primary from Clinton's rally. It's sad, because it would've been great for Max to've gone to the Obama rally, but good because it means I get three more days of roadtrippin' fun and Clinton is due to win the election, so the rally's likely to be quite a jolly affair.

The road from Harrisburg to Philly was long and boring, but the sun was shining and we had great music on the stereo again, so it was a fun couple of hours. We also saw three entire houses on the back of a truck, which broke up the monotony nicely.

Philadelphia looks a lot like Manhattan, which really surprised me. I didn't really know what to expect - perhaps something a little more on the scale of Harrisburg - but it certainly wasn't a massive metropolis with loads of skyscrapers.

I can say with some authority that the Philadelphia Hilton Garden Inn is not as nice as the Harrisburg Hilton. But it was fine for a nap while Max went out to get voxpops. I think we both found it a bit tricky yesterday, me being on his shoulder all the time (much like a pirate's parrot) and us being engaged in a husband/wife dynamic, as well as one of colleagues (ie: I got sad when Max was concentrating on work instead of chatting to me. What a brat!).

He returned with word of a big branch of Old Navy around the corner, so I dashed out to catch it before closing (there isn't one in DC), while he filed his story. Max warned me that Philadelphia didn't seem such a nice city and that I should be a bit careful wandering around near our hotel, and he was absolutely right. Our area was really run down and felt a bit threatening. And people on the street and in shops were actively unfriendly, unlike people I'd met in DC.

When I got back, Max realised that he needed one more Clinton supporter, so headed out again. It's amazing to see how he takes this stuff in his stride now, having only just started this aspect of his job, and been so nervous the first couple of times.

Once Maxy had finished his piece, we headed up to the hotel restaurant, which boasted spectacular views from the 10th floor. Unfortunately the view wasn't so spectacular and the whole place felt a little low-rent, but the pomegranate margaritas took the edge off our disappointment nicely!

Sitting behind us was a group of people including a man I'd spotted checking in earlier, with loads of camera equipment from the BBC's New York office. So Max rocked over to introduce himself and I heard cries of, 'Oh Max!', so he's obviously a big man on campus. Again, this was most un-Maxy-like behaviour - he's becoming quite the thrusting journalist man!

HIS GIRL SUNDAY

PLACE I'M LEAST LIKELY TO RE-VISIT: Lebanon, PA

Today has been very exciting and we've seen a lot. It's just a shame that that which we have seen has convinced me that I won't be sad to leave Harrisburg...

We were up and about early (for a Sunday), with Max cleanshaven and in a suit and me scuttling behind him with my camera, as we hit the streets of Harrisburg, ready to get some local 'colour' for a piece Max has to write ahead of Tuesday's election. Harrisburg is a good place for such an item, as it is the political centre of the state and although it has a Democratic congressman, voted for Bush in 2004.

What isn't good is trying to find people to interview on a Sunday morning, when the place is deserted. Seriously, we came across about four people. But two of them were very useful and I was very impressed with Max's journalisty ways. Once he'd interviewed the people (both Obama supporters), I took their photo, as the helpful assistant I am. It was very exciting to think that my pictures would be in the piece - I felt quite the photojournalist (despite the fact a photobooth could've taken the same pictures...).

While mooching around taking general shots of the place and feeling a little like the last people on earth, we were approached by a desperate man looking for Bob Casey (Pennsylvania state senator) and Teddy Kennedy (JFK's brother and influential senator), as they were apparently due to speak somewhere nearby. We couldn't help, but vaguely thought it might be a good idea to find the senators too, so continued with our wandering, only to come across some fliers on cars advertising a rally just around the corner.

So we sauntered over there and found a rally going on at the Obama HQ, with Casey and Kennedy rallying the troops (Barack wasn't there). Max got straight in, finding a press contact, and then asked if he could interview the senators. The BBC name is a really handy thing to have at times like these. The press lady said she'd see what she could do, then we just milled around for ages. It was really interesting, seeing the breadth of demographic present - really everyone from all races, genders and social groups. And once we went inside, getting a step closer to the senators, it was quite thrilling to be in this hub of excitement and activity. There were posters everywhere and many over-enthusiastic campaigners.

Eventually we got shown upstairs to outside the room where Casey and Kennedy were, where we waited with a couple of friendly chaps from a local radio station. Max had gone quite quiet by this stage and I had a massive nerveknot in my stomach, as this really isn't what we were expecting to come out of today - we thought we'd just be talking to a handful of locals about who they'd be voting for.

But soon (well, not that soon), we were shown into a room with Bob Casey and Teddy Kennedy in it! Max was brilliant and shared about 15 mins of interview time with the radio guys (it would've been much shorter, had Kennedy have not wittered on so). You'd never have known he was at all nervous. Afterwards, I took a photo of the two senators (it now transpires that Casey had his eyes shut) and when they found out that it was Max's first assignment for the BBC in Washington, they insisted he have his photo taken with them!

I didn't realise quite what a big deal all of this was. I recognised Casey from TV the other night, when I'd developed something of a soft spot for him as he was on a debate show against a battleaxe of a Clinton supporter and seemed really nice and quietly fun. But Max had to explain later that Kennedy is kind of king of the Democrats and one of the most important and influential people in US politics. And Max interviewed him! Cool! Quite a scoop for his first proper assignment.

Max was keen to get a photo of his new best friends leaving the rally and shaking hands with voters, so I went into shutterbug mode when they came out, snapping away until Teddy Kennedy was in his car and Casey sloped off down the street (I felt a bit sorry for him - people were far more interested in Kennedy). I felt like a paparazzo, especially when I got a photo of Kennedy's dog through his car window.

Buoyed by our excellent start, we drove to the mall of last night's fun to get some more interviews. Just as we got to the car, the heavens opened and the biggest, hardest, sploshiest rain started pelting it down and didn't stop all afternoon. It was biblical. 

Having interviewed his first person (yet another Obama supporter - eek!) at the mall, Max was approached by a spotty young security guard who looked like someone from 'The Simpsons' and told us we needed permission for what we were doing. When I asked what exactly we needed permission for (I'm used to getting permission for filming, but not just interviewing and taking stills), he just said, 'for whatever it is you're doing', which was quite frustrating. Especially as the permissions person wouldn't be in until tomorrow. 

We tried Macy's, thinking that they'd be able to give us their own permission independent of the mall, but the manager there said we had to contact their New York office to get approval. Aaargghh, stuff like this really annoys me. What are these managers doing, if they have to defer everything to a higher office? And why can't we just ask people a couple of questions? 

Galvanised by thoughts of John Simpson sneaking into Afghanistan dressed as a woman, Max made the risky move of asking a cashier about the primary anyway (she was an undecided Democrat), but she wouldn't be photographed or quoted and then he found a Hillary supporter (at last!) outside, but she didn't want to be quoted, either. 

A little deflated, we headed out of Harrisburg to the suburbs, where we expected to find lots of Hillary supporters, because it all gets more industrial and run-down as you leave the city. 

First stop was Hershey, where the chocolate is made. It's an extraordinary town - all the streetlights have little Hershey kisses-shaped lids on them and the streets have names like 'Cocoa Street' and 'Chocolate Ave'. We headed to the Hershey's factory, where you can do a tour of chocolate production (and get free candy!) but the rain was so hardcore, we couldn't even get out of the car.

The biggest enemy of voxpops is torrential rain and we were reduced to driving around the suburbs, trying to find homes with signs outside. We found masses of Obama signs, but hardly any Clinton ones which at this stage was frustrating and also contradicts the polling patterns of where Clinton supporters can be found.

It was really interesting, though, to drive through real middle American suburbs, with swing seats on every porch and postboxes in front gardens. I bet it looks amazing at Christmas, when neighbours try to outdo each other with lights. But there was also something a bit faded and uniform about it.

Getting slightly desperate for any sign of life, we spotted a lady sitting out on her porch having a cigarette, and Max ran up to interview her while I stayed in the car. It transpired that she was a Clinton supporter - hurrah! And Max got a really good interview and took his own picture. 

All we needed now was a real blue collar Clinton supporter, ideally who works in the mines, so we left Hershey in the direction of Lebanon (true!), passing through some really bleak, closed small towns, like where contestants from 'American Idol' and 'America's Next Top Model' always come from. We also passed a couple of adverts for gun shops, which was nice.

In good news, the rain stopped by the time we got to Lebanon. In bad news, I really wish it hadn't, as the town was about as hostile as Beirut in the 80s. I parked up on one street, so that Maxy could speak to a few people sitting out on the steps of their run-down houses, and got shouted at by a driver pulling out of  a street in front of me. Fortunately she mistook me for a man, so I was unable to take her male-skewed insults personally.

Then Max approached one man (who turned out to be a conspiracy theory touting, racist Republican) while I moved the car to a less offensive space, only to be shouted at that I was going the wrong way down a one-way street. When I was finally settled, I realised that sweet besuited Max, looking a little like Bart Simpson in his church clothes, was wandering up and down one of the roughest looking streets I've ever seen. So, not really sure what I could do if anything went wrong, but certain Max needed some kind of bodyguard, I joined him as he approached a group of people who'd never heard of the election. Then a man who wasn't from Lebanon. Then we went into a cafe where the guys didn't speak english and I'm pretty sure wouldn't be allowed to vote anyway, all the while being laughed at by the man who didn't come from Lebanon. 

By this time, we were keen to make a speedy getaway, so jumped back in the car and hotfooted it out of there, only to be stopped by a train at a level crossing. It turned out to be the single longest freight train I have EVER seen. It just kept on going and kept on going - carriage after carriage after carriage, and then platform after platform after platform. About 10 mins after it started passing us, with the end nowhere in sight, it ground to a squeaky halt. It was at this point that my 'CSI' / 'Without A Trace'-watching mind went into overdrive and I realised that, with a train in front of us and a queue of cars behind us, we were sitting ducks for any of the weirdy Lebanon inhabitants to come and rob and shoot us.

Things only got worse when the train started to move again. Backwards! The whole thing that we'd just watched crawl by then crawled back in the opposite direction. Ugh. Lots of cars turned around, but we didn't want to run the risk of getting lost in Lebanon, so stayed put and eventually were able to screech out of there, about half an hour later.

To cheer me up, Max bought me a Blizzard at an out-of-town Dairy Queen. I'd seen adverts for Blizzards and was very excited to try one. But by the time I got to the bottom of the ice creamy, peanutty, chocolatey mess, I had vowed never to eat another one for a very long time - too much!

Re-energised by our ice cream and cheered that the rain was

staying away, we decided to look for our Clinton supporters on the other side of Harrisburg. Max was really keen to get a picture of Obama flags and Clinton flags next to each other for his piece and I spotted a pair on the central reservation of a dual carriageway we were on. So I jumped out of the car and ran across the road with my camera, completely forgetting that I'd had to undo my trousers to make room for the Blizzard, and my trousers fell down halfway across the road! Only sliiiightly mortifying. In good news, I got the photo. How I suffer for my art!

We managed to find a Clinton supporting lady at a strip mall (of which there are SO many!), so our work was finally done and we were able to go back to the hotel so Max could file his story. It had been really fun helping him, though I was really disappointed with the photos I'd taken (especially the one of Casey with his eyes shut) and felt oddly frustrated that I don't have a job that lets me do such dynamic things. Or anything for that matter. I usually don't like doing voxpops, but this time - when it wasn't my job - I was dying to jump in there and get involved myself. I really didn't anticipate being so disappointed that I'm not working while we're here.

I went for a swim (100 lengths!) while Max worked on his article in our room, then kept him company while I had supper and helped him with the final touches and editing. We found out watching local news that Obama had been to church that morning in none other than... Lebanon! So were exasperated to've missed him so narrowly for the second time in two days, but were really happy with the article, after jointly scrutinising it and trying to get it as good as possible. I don't know what I expected, but was so impressed with how Maxy just got on with it today - getting out there and walking up to strangers, despite hating that kind of thing, then writing it up into an informative and textured article.

Unfortunately we still don't know where we're going to be tomorrow. If the BBC still want Max to cover Obama, then we'll have to drive back to DC for him to catch a plane there. But Obama has yet to announce exactly where he's going to be and, since we're near Philadelphia, it might make more sense to go there anyway and Maxy cover Clinton's rally. It'd be kind of good to know either way. 

ROADTRIP! ROADTRIP!

WEIRDEST THING I SAW TODAY: there is much competition for this spot, but it has to go to the man playing classical guitar from sheet music in the middle of Ikea, seemingly to no-one.

I'm very excited about this weekend. We're off to Pennsylvania, where Max is covering Tuesday's primary. He was meant to be doing a couple of days in Harrisburg, getting material for a 'colour' piece, then heading to Philadelphia to report on the primary itself from Obama's rally. However, Obama will no longer be there, as Clinton announced yesterday that she's moving her rally from Pittsburgh to Philly, so Obama is likely to skip town, maybe for Indiana. But we won't know until closer to the time. Anyway, it'll be very exciting for Max to be at the heart of the Democratic race and I get to drive cross country in my capacity as his chauffeur - woo! 

We picked up our righteous hire car (a sky blue old estate car, with huge leather seats - 3 in the front! - a combination lock on the driver's door and a gear stick on the steering wheel, just like in the movies) in the weirdest hotel in all the world (we entered on the ground floor, took a lift to the 8th and found ourselves on the ground floor on the other side of the building), where there was some motivational speaking event going on and many odd people milling around. Then we hit the road.

Well first we hit Ikea, because I wanted some driving practice (all is fine now, but it was weird getting used to the humungous width of the car and that whole driving-on-the-right thing) and erm, some stuff from Ikea. I realise this looks like I'm a massive shopaholic for tat, and in many ways I am, but the apartment still needs a few little things both practical (a coffee table) and home-ifying (bedding that hasn't been slept on by 900 people and looks gross).

I couldn't work out if I was comforted by how familiar Ikea was, or depressed. We could very easily have been in Wembley (but for the man playing the guitar). Hey, but look what we scored in the car park:

You don't see those in Wembley - woo! Actually, I need to stop being so obsessed with our numberplate collection, as there were some hairy moments on the interstate, when I found myself paying more attention to numberplates whizzing past than the road...

The drive was great, due to a combination of Max's excellent navigation skills, the sunshine, good music and the route basically being along one road. We saw a craaaazy man in shorts and t-shirt doing a wheelie on his motorbike at about 90mph for about 100 metres and - in keeping with everything being larger here in the US - roadkill that was a wolf! 

Harrisburg seems like quite a small city and not particularly pretty, but as the Hilton we're staying in is only just inside the town, I may be missing a lot. Having said that the place where we picked up our car was weird, it's safe to say that the Harrisburg Hilton is up there in the weird hotel stakes. 

There are heaps of events going on here, including some random conventions, a big Jewish family meal, a prom and - according to the mass of squealing girls we shared a lift with - a national beauty school competition. Spotting the chance for a free pedicure and haircut, I offered myself as a model, but the competitors just squealed off out of the lift. I was able to bond with the receptionist though, over an item about prom dresses under $200 that I'd seen on Regis and Kelly yesterday. I told you, I'm going native!

After dumping our stuff, we headed off in the car to an out-of-town mall, to see 'Forgetting Sarah Marshall'. Max and I were extremely proud of ourselves, that we can come to this random city in the States, then drive off to a mall miles away to watch a movie. The pride ebbed away pretty quickly though when I remembered how, at the age of 17, my friends Tom and Sarah bought a car, drove across the States and then sold it. That kind of trumps our measly mall expedition.

Anyway, after a depressing supper in Applebees (so many regulars! So strangely few very fat people, considering the food!), we watched the movie and it was ace. As was the trailer for 'Pineapple Express', which we saw beforehand. Turns out Rodney Rothman was an executive producer on 'Forgetting Sarah Marshall' - the idea of the Apatow and Rothman venn diagrams overlapping is a most exciting one (if you haven't read Early Bird, please do - it's the funniest book I've ever read). We laughed a lot and Max now has a man crush on Paul Rudd, who was the funniest thing in the film. Russell Brand was good, too - I felt a curious flush of pride, for no good reason, other than I interviewed him when he'd just got back from shooting in Hawaii. But that's not a good reason.

After stopping Max getting into the wrong car in the car park (look for the combination lock on the driver's door, dude!), we headed back into Harrisburg, only to discover that there'd been an enormous Obama rally on the steps of the capitol tonight! Aaaarrrgghhhh! This doesn't bode well for Maxy's weekend of journalism and I'm really sad to've missed the chance to see Barack.

We kept passing lots of people brandishing Obama signs, and I kept suggesting that Max start his voxpopping now, but he insisted he wasn't working today and that he'd start tomorrow. But when I passed a lady wearing an Obama pin in the corridor of our hotel, I forcibly made Max pop her vox and it turned out that - although she's not from Harrisburg and therefore of no use to his piece - she's a Republican who's voting for Obama! Yeay!

THERE GOES THE NEIGHBOURHOOD

WEIRDEST THING I SAW TODAY: a bus with bikes on the front (like this one, but not this one)

It would seem that I'm going to have to accept that I don't have the complexion for this kind of relentless sunny sunshine. After meeting Max for lunch (skipping down the street to The Husbands on my iPod), I felt all funny when I got back to the apartment, so stayed inside for the rest of the day. 

But not before meeting a neighbour from one of two apartments with which we share our floor. Anne lives with her cousin Megan and seems about the same age as us. She was off to spend the night in a cabin with friends and seemed to have way more poker chips in her bag than anything remotely practical or useful for such a jaunt. I think we will be friends.

While recovering from my suspected sunstroke, I got a tip from Max that there was a car chase on the news, so tuned in and watched until the lady who'd stolen the car from a hire company was stopped outside Orange County and approached by state troopers brandishing rifles and stuff. It was all very exciting and American. Though I did get a bit uneasy at one point, realising that watching it all happen live is great, until something awful happens, which it could well have done. I also wondered what the woman hoped to achieve - outrunning the police (for two hours, by the time I tuned in) seemed an ambitious move at best.

Making the most of my enforced indoors-ness, I also caught up with my friend Lissa's excellent articles on Jude Rogers' excellent Lipster. Alas, the articles were so excellent that they made me want to stop blogging - and writing in general - forever (erm, I've managed to get over it...).

We figured it was time to check out Adams Morgan for supper, so headed up 18th Street, where we found a whole new and extremely exciting, buzzing neighbourhood. Who knew?! Seriously, it's just a couple of blocks up from the faux-Elgin, where we've been hanging out.

Adams Morgan seems to basically be about four or five blocks of 18th Street, lined with restaurants offering every cuisine you can imagine. There are lots of cool-looking bars, shisha cafes, jumbo pizza slice shops and the odd record shop thrown in for good measure. On a warm Friday evening, it feels like walking down the main drag in a very nice holiday resort in Europe. There were loads of people milling around and a great atmosphere. If Max and I went to a different restaurant there every week of our stay, we wouldn't get to them all, but we're excited by the idea of trying.

There was a Brazilian restaurant called the Grill From Ipanema (Max mainly only eats in places with puns), a great looking sushi place with a massive roof terrace strewn with twinkly fairy lights and a couple of fancy-looking French bistros, too. 

It's so exciting to have such a neighbourhood on our doorstep and it was good to make a mental note of places to go for special nights out and stuff. 

My excitement may have been fuelled by the many rum cocktails that I had with supper in the bar we plumped for (where we were served by a CRAZY waitress lady extremely high on amphetamines). They certainly fuelled my dancing on the street to Whitney Houston as we walked past one place on our way home. Max has had an exhausting first week flying solo at work, so wearily pulled me along the street as I tried to jig about and soak up the atmosphere. Poor fellow. I was just excited to be out of the house!

PHOTOS: CASA DEVESON, DC

Click HERE for photos of our apartment!

(some take a couple of seconds to stop being pixel-y)

GETTING INTO THE GROOVE

STRANGEST PLACE SPOTTED ON THE US MAP: a spa city in New Mexico called Truth Or Consequences [click here]

I still feel very much in the 'settling in' phase of our time here. I spend all day every day doing things I have to do, rather than would necessarily like to do - like unpacking and shopping for general supplies.

Which is by no means to suggest I'm not having a good time. I get a disproportionate amount of enjoyment from sorting out cupboards, tidying up and seeing our flat come together. And any trip to the shops is always a voyage of discovery in the sunny sunshine and a summer dress. But I do look forward to the time when I can do all the things I was hoping to spend my time doing here, like volunteering and going to museums and editing my home movies and stuff. 

Having said that, I would say that I've definitely found my DC groove and am so much happier than last week, feeling settled and like I have some foundations here on which to build a very exciting year. I think Max feels the same, as he's handling all the challenges thrown at him at the Bureau, and we're both finally in the reality of what we've been anticipating during all the buildup. 

Today, I mostly battled with the washing machine, as I have now completely unpacked (woo!) and, after my Target-fest, the apartment is looking great and I love spending time here. So the disgustingly enormous mountain of washing that's been sitting in the hallway had to go. I'm not sure that the washing machine is actually washing our clothes and am quite sure I'm not using it right. But each load takes 10mins and I'm very much enjoying becoming acquainted with the first tumble dryer of my life, so Max now has the fluffiest pants EVER! 

The soundtrack for this domesticity was supplied by two amazing compilation CDs made for us by Matt and by Danny before we left the UK. Both are a relentless onslaught of sonic gems, all of which sound even better when delivered by two of surely the most beautiful speakers  you've ever seen, which recently arrived from Amazon:

mmmm

Offering lovely punctuation to my day of laundry and sorting out the kitchen (the final frontier of moving in. I've been re-organising cupboards 

and throwing away spices that expired two years ago. I'm a little bit in my element), was a lunch date in Dupont Circle with Maxy. He's been working on a story about the Texas sect hearings, but things have been slightly quieter today, so he was allowed a lunch break. I like it. We talked about last night's debate between Obama and Hillary, and how Obama is trying to do that thing that we're taught when we're little, of not retaliating and taking insults on the chin. Hillary's way lucky that Obama doesn't just hit back at all her Republican-y jibes with the myriad things she's getting wrong and 'misspeaking'. I just hope it works for him. Surely if George Clooney and Bruce Springsteen like him AND his favourite TV show is 'The Wire', he must be the right man for the job! (it's probably a good thing I don't have a vote, with criteria like that...)

It was so crazy hot on my way back to the apartment that I became the anti-Max. Whereas he, at the slightest sign of sun, makes a bee-line for areas in the heat and will lie out in cloud, insisting you can tan through it, I found myself hugging any shade-casting buildings, desperately trying to keep my pasty white skin out of the blistering heat. I haven't managed to track down any sunscreen that looks like it might work. Even at Target and BB&B, I could only find distinctly dodgy-looking Banana Boat stuff and cheapy-looking ones that look like they'd baste me rather than protect me. But at least this is nice, holiday-ish heat. I gather that from June to September, it's a bit like a swamp here and the humidity goes crazy. 

With everything unpacked and the flat in shipshape condition, I finally got to call home for the first time since we got here and had a great chat with Mum and Dad. Then when Max came home, I even managed to cook him supper! I worked the oven and everything! We had a really lovely evening over a bottle of wine and both felt like it was the culmination of the past few days, when we've felt increasingly settled here. Don't get me wrong - we still haven't managed to stay awake for the late-night chatshows, but all else is good in the world.

I'VE BEEN TARGETED

BEST DISCOVERY OF THE DAY: it's guaranteed to be sunny between now and September.

Another day in DC, another early wakeup call from Stompy (6.30am! Thanks!) and more wandering around extremely hot and sunny blossom-lined streets. It's a tough life.

This morning, I went on an explore of U Street, which is the street 

our road turns into when you cross 18th St (I love cities based on grids!) - the place with all the restaurants on it. I had no idea I'd be exploring U Street - I thought I was just following the advice of googlemaps to find a supermarket closer than Safeway, cos I wanted my breakfast. But I ended up having an adventure along what I now find out was known in the 30s as 'Black Broadway', where Duke Ellington, Ella Fitzgerald and Nat King Cole hung out. It was also destroyed in the '68 riots and it took 3 days to put out fires there, apparently. 

I discovered many nice restaurants and lots of good looking shops in tenement houses and once more got very excited about our neighbourhood and all the possibilities on our doorstep. I also found the supermarket, which was a good result. I'm really enjoying this ad hoc exploring; setting out to go somewhere and finding myself in a whole new neighbourhood, dreamily discovering new things in the sunshine. I feel like Max's representative, like I have to go exploring and report back to him. Much like Sir Francis Drake and Elizabeth, except Maxy's teeth aren't made from wood.

I got home, all excited about telling Max all about my trip, only to pick up an answerphone message from him, saying he's gone to the White House, to get voxpops and photos of the thousands of people who'd turned out for the Pope! I felt that somewhat trumped my U Street exploits. The whole voxpopping and photography side of Max's new job is the bit he's been most nervous about, and our plan was always that I should help him out the first few times, until he was used to it. But thanks to living like someone in the 80s, and having no mobile, I had no idea what was going on and therefore missed the chance to join him.

I met up with Laura - Max's predecessor - and Max for lunch and it turned out that Max totally aced the whole voxpops thing and really enjoyed it, much to his surprise (you should be able to see Max's resultant piece here, if you scroll down to the pic of the grumpy looking girl and click on 'In Pictures'). It was of no surprise to me and very in-keeping with Max's growing confidence and kickass-ness at his job as this week goes on. Every day, he's been coming home happier and more confident and he's really acing things at the Bureau, which is such a weight off his shoulders, after all this buildup to him taking on such an important job.

It was nice to see Laura again and very handy, because I was armed with lots of questions about the flat that she was able to answer. I'm still frankly terrified of the toploader washing machine, but at least I know how to let people in the front door now and that there's nothing to be done about Stompy.

One of my questions concerned the apparent dearth of household-y shops, to which Laura had but one answer: Target.

I've heard much of Target (or Tarjet, as fans of Primani would call it), but never been to one. I can now safely say that I have been Targeted. I hopped on the metro up to Columbia Heights, a neighbourhood to the north of where we live that's meant to be really nice. It is not really nice. But there is an enormous mall that houses just four extremely large shops. One of these is Bath, Bed & Beyond and the other is Target.

I pride myself on being like a kid in a candy shop when let loose in an enormous shop of very cheap tat, much to the frustration of Max, who has to point out we don't actually *need* whatever cheap-but-ingenious thing it is I've just picked up. So imagine how excited I was to be unsupervised! Unfortunately Bath, Bed & Beyond almost reduced me to a panic attack, so huge is it and so much choice is there within. Floor to ceiling stuff like handwhisks and fans and towels and photo frames and cutlery and whicker baskets and much, much more. What should've been a massive candy store became a scary warehouse o' doom, with kitchenware staring down at me from very high shelves, crowding in on me like one of those weird psychedelic bits in the middle of 'Dumbo', insisting on being bought.

I didn't like it.

So I skipped across the way to Target. Target had just as much stuff in it, but somehow was less scary. I had only gone there for some hangers and a four-way adaptor, so didn't bother with a basket, much less a trolley. However, when I found myself staggering around with two cushions, some wrapping paper and a big packet of loo roll, I thought the time had probably come to get a trolley. And then there was no stopping me! 

Having hit the motherload of face cloths (so that's where they are!), but been unable to find any duvet covers (my new mission), I took my overloaded trolley to the cash desk. It was only at this point that I registered that I was on public transport and, having spent a little more than might be expected when picking up hangers and a four-way, I thought it wouldn't be right to get a taxi.

So, with the security guard giving me, 'you're a loony' looks, I struggled out into the blazing heat with three enormous, binbag sized bags of cushions, hangers, handwhisks, mattress covers, paper lanterns, bronzing moisturiser and quite a lot more. The bags were just bigger than the distance from my hand to the floor, so my journey home was spent in an awkward permanently-flexed position usually seen only in the gym. I made it onto the metro, only to find that the stop I previously thought was super-close to our apartment is in fact six long hot blocks away. 

Determined, I set off, convinced I could do it. In the first two minutes of getting outside, I encountered three homeless people all asking for money and was mortified that, as I struggled along with my bags stuffed with useless things, I had to explain that I had no change.

I think I got two blocks before I gave up and jumped in a taxi. By now I was three blocks from home, so when the driver told me it'd be $8.50, I promptly jumped out again and made my way to the bus stop. I worry that I'm not really conveying just how hot it was, how heavy the bags were or how awkward they were to carry. Anyways, I was easily the least popular person on the crowded bus, when I galumphed on, didn't know how to work the ticket machine and then hit every single knee as I struggled along to a seat. Though I was excited to be venturing onto a new form of transport.

The lady opposite me had just met a friend and, when asked what she'd been up to, just said, 'riding the bus'. Perhaps I'll do that one day. Without my Target bags.

I finally made it back to the apartment, but only just. The gentle hill we live on had turned into a sheer rockface while I'd been shopping and I poured myself through the door. Within 5 mins of unpacking my purchases, everything looked like it'd been here all along, so didn't really do justice to my toils. But I do love my cushions.

I of course gave Max the tour of the increasingly homely-looking flat when he got home and he was suitably impressed (though I sense he doesn't love the cushions quite as much as I do). Again, I hadn't quite managed to get stuff in for supper, so we headed out to eat on 18th. We ended up in a Mexican & El Salvadorian restaurant just across from the faux-Elgin. The food was deliiiicious and enormous and extremely good value. I had a lethal cocktail called a Cuban Sunset, with vodka, tequila and rum in it, amongst other things. It was just what I needed after my hard day, though lifting it to my mouth became very difficult as my arms went on strike shortly after I finally put down the Target bags. 

To walk off the disgusting amount of food, we explored our neighbourhood in the other direction, walking away from 18th & U Streets, and discovered a Safeway much closer to us and a 24-hour Rite Aid, that claims to be a pharmacy, but is enormous and sells clothes and stationery and washing detergent and hangers(!) and photo goods and many other things.

Max had had an even better day at work than the day before and confirmed that we'll be going to Pennsylvania this weekend. Because he can't drive, I'll be on chauffeur duty and hired a car for our 5-day trip for $200, which bodes well for our out-of-town adventures (so cheap!). We'll be in Harrisburg for Saturday to Monday, getting 'local colour' (voxpops and pics), then head to Philadelphia (or 'Killadelphia', as it has been called since the gun crime rate has soared) on Monday until Wednesday morning, so Max can pop some more voxes and then cover the Primary results from Obama's Tuesday night rally. Woo!

AND SO IT BEGINS...

HOORAY! The Boss supports Obama (see here [you have to scroll down a bit])

Okaaay so there's a problem with the flat of dreams. All the high shine parquet floors are oh-so-pretty to look at, but not so great for stopping noise coming from the flat above at 7am, when our neighbour decides to listen to his TV unfeasibly loudly and walk around like a petulant teenager, seemingly stomping with every step. He shall henceforth be known as Stompy and I can't express just how loud the noise from his flat is. Aaaargh. 

After our early start, I did the gruelling 15 min stroll to work with Maxy, along blossom-lined streets with nice houses on them, only to feel like I was in a film set on Wall Street in the 80s ('Wall Street', perhaps. Though I was thinking more of 'The Secret Of My Success') when we hit Dupont Circle, as there were just seas of commuters filling the streets. I guess it must be a bit like what working in the City is like in London, but it's certainly never like that in Shepherds Bush, or even Soho, where there's just a few people - many with directional hair and baggy jeans - slowly making their way to work.

With Max safely stowed at the Bureau, I decided to take a long way home because it was sooo sunny and I wanted to track down Safeway, which is apparently the only large supermarket anywhere near us. The whole neighbourhood is just beautiful and I will be sure to post some photos soon. I just couldn't quite believe that this is my life for the next year - getting to wander around sunny streets looking at blossom and enjoying the warm sunshine. Ok, so I know those streets will soon become muggy and heinous, only to then get snowy and slippy, but the point is, it's all extremely pretty.

I found Safeway in a cool little pocket of the neighbourhood, where there's a hardware store and handy things like watch menders, little cafes and shoe menders. I was a bit relieved, as the whole place is so picturesque and has many nice restaurants, but I'd yet to find anywhere actually practical, so this was a good find. 

I spent the rest of the day unpacking. I realise that there should've been clues by the time I started packing bag number 4, but we definitely brought way too much stuff. It was exhausting work, but nice to remind myself of the many things we brought and to make the flat look like home. I only wish Max was as fond of the transformation moments on home improvement shows as I am, as it would blow his mind to see the changes our stuff has made to the place. 

It's funny, just yesterday, when we were having supper in the faux-Elgin, I was saying to Max how surprised I was not to've felt homesick yet. I've always had really bad homesickness, right up to university, and know so well that kind of lurching feeling in your tummy that you have to suppress in order to just get on with things. But I haven't felt that at all, probably because everyone at home has been so lovely about keeping in touch, and because I've got Max here, and wherever I lay my Max, that's my home (okay, that wasn't meant to sound in any way saucy).

However, unpacking all our things and seeing the trinkets we brought with us to remind us of home - ironically to stop us feeling sad about not being there - actually served to make me feel a bit homesick. Not even the amazing alarm clock that I bought for $20 this morning and lets you wake up to an iPod could cheer me up, though seeing how great the flat looked by the end of the day was nice.

Fortunately the walk to pick Max up from work raised my spirits and reminded me of how lucky I am to be here. There were lots of people milling around Dupont Circle in the evening sunshine and a saxophonist was playing nice music, to make me feel a little like I was in a film. The blossom was beautiful, too. Unnervingly, the sea of commuters Max and I encountered this morning had turned into a sea - nay, an ocean - of exercising people. As I lollopped down the street, full of 10 days worth of huge US diner portions, I passed a million joggers and people with yoga mats slung over their shoulders. I had to console myself with the fact that I can't possibly start exercising until the many other way more important things (um, like arranging photo frames) are done.

I'd had great intentions of cooking Max a nice meal for our first proper evening in our proper flat, but the unpacking kind of got in the way, so we stopped for a deliiiicious meal at an Asian diner between Dupont and here. Mmmm, it was lishy. 

Max's first day in the Bureau since his week of shadowing Laura had been a bit stressful yesterday and he came back to the apartment a little dispirited. But today went much better, despite him having way more to do. He seems to've done a week's work in one day, including a by-lined feature, and was really happy with how it all went and feels like he's getting more into his stride. 

As we were unlocking the door to our flat after supper, we heard someone locking up upstairs, then thunderous footsteps coming towards us that had the stomach-turning familiarity of Stompy. Even on stairs, he's stompy! He was being pulled along by two enormous dogs, so we didn't have time to do anything other than nod and smile. But certainly relished the peace and quiet once we got into the apartment o' joy. 

THE DEVOS HAVE LANDED

MOST WORRYING SIGN OF THINGS TO COME: Max checking his emails on his new Blackberry in bed at 7.30am.

Ok, so I have some news that might be bad for some people... I'm never coming home! Man alive, we've just moved into our flat and it's amaaaazing. I'm afraid I shan't be returning to the UK unless I can ship this place over with me.

It's just as well that this apartment is so nice, or else I may still be dwelling on the earth-shattering discovery I made as we were moving our millions of bags out of the temporary apartment we've been staying in... There was a pool in the building! And a gym! Who knew? Seriously, what was I thinking, sitting at my computer, wandering the streets and watching TV? I could've been splashing around in a pool but an elevator-ride away from my flat!! Grrrr. I only found out because, on one of my many trips to and from the taxi, a betrunked man with a towel around his neck emerged from the stairway and spoke to the concierge about there being some problem with the gym. Or was it the pool. I can't remember. The point is, there was a pool in the building! Ugh.

Anyway, that place is so last week and I'm all about our wonderful new flat, which is making me extreeeemely happy. We moved us and our way-too-many bags here when Max got home from work, to give the cleaner (woo!) time to finish up. The taxi brought us along Connecticut Ave, which is the main drag between here and Dupont Circle, where I spotted a Lucky Brand Jeans shop, so had a suspicion that all was going to be well.

Once we'd lugged all our stuff into the flat, we ran about like loons, exploring the many many doors, some of which led to en-suite bathrooms, others to walk-in wardrobes and some to more than one boiler. Odd. 

I was very aware that Max had had a long first proper day at the office and had done much lugging of suitcases, but there were just a couple of bits of furniture I wanted to move before we headed out for food. And those bits turned into a few more bits and soon we were rearranging the whole flat, so that it now looks awesome. I don't think Max's predecessor spent much time here, as the sitting room and bedroom were laid out quite funnily. But since this is going to be where I hang out most days, I'm determined to Soph-ify it. Plus, as anyone who's lived with me can testify, I'm a chronic nester, so fortunately it came as no surprise to Max that I wanted to put my mark on the place, and thankfully his excitement at being here outweighed any hunger/tiredness. 

The whole place reorganised, we headed down the road to 18th Street, where there are a couple of blocks of restaurants. On the corner, there's a Belgian cafe, but that was closed for refurbishment, then there was a kind of diner next to that, what I think is a pub next to that and a Chinese takeaway next to that. We plumped for the diner, which actually looked exactly like a nice pub in Britain inside, not unlike the trusty Elgin at the end of our road in Maida Vale. The menu's great for those nights when you just can't be bothered to cook (or have yet to work out how yet another oven works...) and there are peonies all over the place - I love it!

We didn't realise when we were ordering our fried chicken and mac and cheese that it was 11pm by this stage, but wolfed it down until we could wolf no more and then over-excitedly asked for what we couldn't manage as takeout (because we could) and stumbled the few yards back to the flat, extremely excited by our local and the neighbourhood as a whole.

While Maxy crashed out, I couldn't resist buzzing around the flat a bit more, sorting bits and pieces out while clambering over our bags every time I had to go through the hallway. Grrr. Why so much stuff?! As I explored the spare room, I found a pile of what I took to be junk mail, only to discover a gift from Rols and Nina and an AMAZING welcome package from Tom and Bam of East coast maps, guidebooks, Entertainment Weekly and a screwdriver! It was an excellent end to an unbelievably exciting evening and I'm so so happy to be here. Sure, the fact that the Pope and Gordon Brown are hitting Washington this week is pretty momentous, but I'm far more excited by our home. Less so by the prospect of unpacking...

ROLL ON TOMORROW

BEST NUMBERPLATE SEEN TODAY: Louisiana*

It's really nice to get to hang out with Max. As fun as the weekdays are, with my mini routines and quests for adventure, it's been so nice to spend time with another human being that isn't Anthony LaPaglia (I watch 'Without A Trace' with my lunch each day), specifically, Maxy.

We spent this morning at a weekly farmer's market at Dupont Circle, which sold many wholesome foods, including Buffalo meat products, funny herbs like 'cilantro' (coriander) and lots of blossom. It's the sort of thing we've never managed to get out of bed early enough to do in London, with Spitalfields and Columbia Road Flower Market (actually we did do that once - preparing for the wedding wiped out any tendency to lie in on a Sunday morning), so it's nice that we're living in a city, but feel like tourists, so make the effort to do stuff. 

Keeping the touristy theme and inspired by yesterday's segways, we rode the metro to a whole new part of town to get the open-top tour bus that'd take us all over the city, so we can get a sense of how it's all put together. It was really terrifying when Max showed me a map of DC and how the capitol (where we were, after quite a few metro stops) is the centre of the city. What's terrifying is that our 'world', and that of most white middle class people, is solely in the west of the city - there's an entire half of DC that kind of doesn't feature. The east is very deprived and run down and pretty dangerous, and it's kind of scary that it basically doesn't exist for a lot of people (including cartographers) here.

By the time we got to the bus place, it was waaaayy too freezing cold and overcast for any open-top bus fun, so we went in to explore the Union Station, which is the main train station here. Much like Grand Central, it's in an amazingly grand building, and there's a big shopping mall there. The basement is a gigantic food hall, boasting stands selling every kind of fast food you could ever imagine - it was extraordinary.

There was also a very strange movie theatre down in the basement, that was kind of cavernous and almost as though a 50s cinema had been carved out of the rock the station is built on. We decided to see '21', because it's been top of the box office for a few weeks, so we figured it must be quite good to generate that much word-of-mouth success. In good news, the cinema had amazing seats that tipped back to allow you more legroom than you knew what to do with and no-one shouted at the screen. In bad news, the reason no-one shouted at the screen is because '21' is so unutterably awful, no-one would waste their breath. It was also the kind of cinema where there are many more people in the screen at the end of the movie than at the beginning, because people spend all day roaming between screens without buying tickets for each film. I should imagine even those freeloaders felt due a refund after seeing '21'. 

It was still freezing when we thankfully emerged from the film, so we took a quick look at the Capitol (after Max had explained over lunch how the Senate and House of Representatives work) and headed back to the apartment for an exciting TV charity event called 'Night Of Too Many Stars', that we'd been looking forward to all week (Jon Stewart! Will Arnett! Matthew Broderick!).

Unfortunately, much like our attempts to ride the tour bus and see a good film, the show was a big disappointment, with the only real triumph of today being that we managed to get our oven to work. Woo!

But tomorrow we move into our new apartment and Maxy starts his job in earnest, so the future is bright and I feel like our life here can really begin.

* Maxy and I are engaged in an ongoing numberplate game, in an attempt to spot cars from every state in the US. So far, we've had many Washington DCs (complete with Taxation Without Representation on them), Marylands and Virginias. I even got a California and a Texas when I was in Georgetown. Perhaps the most exciting so far has been a diplomat one, though I guess we can expect to see quite a lot of those...

WASHINGTON WEEKEND

FIRST THINGS FIRST: 

hooray for Macys! (ooh, and what nicely manicured nails!) 

Today was one of those fantastic Saturdays where you're just really relaxed and mosey around, going where the day takes you. 

After a lazy morning of sunshine, the Vampire Weekend album and bagels, courtesy of huntergatherer Max, we set off to walk to Chinatown, to get a sense of how the city is put together. It was lovely and warm again (but not so sunny), though lots of shops were closed as we walked through Foggy Bottom (this is what I now know the area where Max's office is to be called. Having seen a bit more of DC, I can confirm that it is indeed a lot like the City in London) and it was all kind of quiet for a Saturday.

Not to worry, before long we encountered lots of people at this fancy pile:

our Washington correspondent

It really does just look like a nice place to live, rather than a fancy seat of power. I wonder how many times it gets painted - it is indeed extremely white.

And, for the baying masses who've been asking for more references to the West Wing (erm, Ed), how do you like these apples?

(The West Wing of the White House)

I'm not going to suggest that this was more exciting than laying eyes on where the leader of the free world lives, but at lunch I saw for the first ever time a bottle of creamy dressing with three spouts on the top. So just one squirt delivers three lines of sauce to your sandwich simultaneously. That's pretty exciting.

However, more exciting than that, and potentially than seeing the White House, was this, which we came across as we carried on downtown. A long line of segways glidin

g across a pedestrian crossing. It was quite the oddest thing we'd seen all day and turned out to be none other than a segway tour of the city!! This will for sure be coming to a DC-based blog near you soon - too good to miss! Actually, there's lots of tours of the city I'd like to do. On our way back from the cherry blossoms the other day, we saw a night cycle tour, which would probably be fun. And I want to go on an open-top bus, like a tourist, too. 

However, we kept our eyes on the prize of the Spy Museum, where we were hotfooting it to from the White House (except I didn't hotfoot anywhere, because it turns out that my Georgetown jaunt in flipflops destroyed my feet. Ouch.). Unfortunately, several hundred other people had the same idea as us and not only was there an enormous queue, but it was sold out for quite some time. Establishing that it's possible to pre-book tickets for the museum and a curious simulation exercise where you actually are a spy, we headed to the Chinatown cinema we'd been at on Wednesday night, to see 'Smart People'. 

The movie was a little 'meh' and, though Ellen Page was as outstanding as we were hoping she would be, I never quite bought Dennis Quaid. Thomas Hayden Church was really funny, but I wonder if that's just because his character got the best bits of the script. And it was nice to remind ourselves of the kinds of movies Sarah Jessica Parker did before 'Sex & The City'. But the movie just didn't really manage to achieve anything. It was good to eat a bowl of Haagen Dazs the size of my head though, especially as the bowl was made from waffle and had been dipped in chocolate and nuts. Mmmmm. Plus, I got extremely excited by the trailer for 'Son of Rambow' and thought Bex might've passed out if she'd seen the 'Blindness' trailer, featuring Mark Ruffalo AND Gael Garcia Bernal! Again with the mmmm.

As we came out of the movie theatre, the segways were surpassed by easily the oddest thing we saw all day, which was a woman in the foyer with a screen built into her t-shirt, which was showing some sort of advert for sports. Sorry for the lack of photo.

After wandering around Chinatown a little bit, we had supper and headed back to the apartment, via an extremely pleasing independent bookstore that also sells music and DVDs. It now transpires that Olsson's is in fact Washington's oldest bookstore and I plan to spend a lot of time there. I wish I could get a job there. Max irked me by getting the MGMT album, so as soon as we got home, I ordered the new Hot Chip from iTunes and, in doing so, discovered that I'm not as big a fan of the Ting Tings and Be Your Own Pet as I'd originally thought. However, Hot Chip - who I thought I really hated - bust.

CHEERS!

COOLEST THING I SAW TODAY: a bit of sunburn on my knees after sitting outside just long enough to eat a sandwich.

Washington is a really friendly city. I don't know if it's because I'm more receptive to it, and perhaps if I was looking for random friends, I'd find them just as easily in London, but it seems everyone's just really happy to chat, if you want to. Our concierges engage us in conversation when we're dashing for the lift, a lady in Gap yesterday admired my only-too-familiar dress and we chatted about her trip home to New Zealand next week and even people who aren't paid to be nice are friendly. There's my new friend Danielle that I met in the nail bar, the owner of Minnie the dog, who I had a chat with in Georgetown, a random Australian man we met on the Metro and the owner of the cutest puppy I've eeeeever seen, who we met coming out of our building and who seemed very keen to be pals (I kicked myself, because she's a photographer and seemed lovely, but I always had it in my head that we'd be leaving this building next week, so there's no point making friends. Dur).

As the above list of friendly encounters suggests, DC is also a very doggy city, by all accounts. There are soooo many dogs here, all of whom seem very preened and loved - no raggedy mongrel types here. And, as eagle-eyed Maxy pointed out, the streets are entirely clear of poop. It's nearly enough to turn this lifelong cat fan to the yappy side of the pet-owning street. But not quite.

The things that catch my eye on the pavements the most are the millions of scooters. *sigh* I miss my scooter. I didn't think there'd be any here, so I put mine to hibernate at Max's folks' house while we're away. But the city is crawling with vespas and sporty peugeot bikes and I'm longing for mine. There aren't even any pesky parking restrictions, unlike in London - here, you just park up on the street like you're riding a bicycle. It's the promised land of scooting! But I still maintain that the best thing about having a scooter is getting out of the city at the weekends and I'm sure a car would be better for that here, as I don't think America does little A-roads like the UK and I don't much fancy heading to Maryland on my scooter on a vast freeway... So I must just get a pushbike for pootling around DC and we'll hire cars at the weekend for out-of-town adventures.

So today was the last day of Max shadowing Laura - the outgoing reporter he's replacing at the Bureau - and tonight was her leaving do, as well as a kind of welcome do for Maxy. As daunting as I'm sure socialising with his bosses was for Max, I found myself in a far greater dilemma. It's been extreeemely hot today and was still very warm this evening. What do you wear to casual after-work drinks in the heat? And is that outfit likely to be at the top of any of my nine suitcases? I managed to throw something together, but I'm still not convinced, and it involved me putting tights on under my dress whilst standing on the street outside the store in which I bought them. Classy.

The party was extremely excellent and provided a big leap towards us feeling

 settled here in DC. Firstly, it was at possibly the coolest bar I've ever been to, which was exactly how I would design a bar if I were to own one. Like all the best cool bars, there's no indication at street level that it exists - you have to know which door to go through. Then you go up some stairs to a two-storey bar that's extremely well decorated and dark and cool, then out onto the deck at the back where there are tealights all over the place and chandeliers hanging from thin air (erm, or thin wires). It's owned by the Thievery Corporation and had a very cosmopolitan, cool kind of block party feel to it. I shall go there a lot.

Unfortunately the bar is too cool for food and by the time we got hungry, it was only 10mins until the bar started charging a $10 entry fee, so we nipped across the road to Julia's Empanadas and got a couple of things that looked a lot like Cornish pasties but were apparently Mexican, and smuggled them back up to the deck. I'm sure the whiff of refried beans and chorizo probably put some of the smarter drinkers off their mojitos, but what can you do?

Max's colleagues are all incredibly nice and very much fun - we had a really great relaxed evening. It was nice to engage in some British banter, and I also soaked up a million tips for getting out of the city, getting cheap flights around the States, good restaurants in what will be our neighbourhood and the best place in DC to see live bands. These conversations opened up Washington for me, beyond my limited discoveries of Georgetown and the chain of Cosis, and I started to get really excited about the year ahead. 

We spent most of the time talking to Geoff and Sarah. Or, as they shall henceforth be known, Fun Geoff & Sarah. Sarah's the deputy Bureau chief, but not at all a scary boss person. She's really fun and caustic and seems convinced her newly engaged Geoff is actually gay. What's more, not only are they fun, but they've just hired a piano, so Max is looking forward to going over and playing it. Meanwhile, Geoff was foolish enough to mention that they're replacing their current TiVo, which works perfectly well and is currently loaded with season 5 of 'The Wire'. Poor fellow, he didn't stand a chance. He's coming over to hook it up in our apartment soon. Geoff can also sort us out with sports tickets, because he works in software at stadiums and stuff (I think), so we're hoping to catch a basketball game at some point. Woo!

As I mentioned, it was a really hot evening - to the point of mugginess - and Max's colleagues could only warn me that summers here are twice as hot and eight times as humid. Aye carumba! What a good thing I no longer have long hair and that the apartment we'll be in has A/C. So it was a welcome relief when some big sploshy drops of rain started to fall late in the evening. We all went inside and watched as an almighty rainstorm poured down on where we'd just been standing. Salsa music started to play and no-one seemed bothered by the turn in the weather. It reminded me of that advert from the 80s set during a storm in New Orleans and everyone just stays in a bar, drinking whatever booze it is that's being advertised (aargh - what was it?).

I was quite sure that we were both too awake (or maaaybe drunk) to miss the talkshows (Max did not do us proud last night), but yet again Leno's opening monologue proved as effective as a thimblefull of NyQuil cough mixture and we were both out like a light at the words, 'good evening and welcome to the show'.