A lotta gelatah

As I wrote about my betta fish Alejandro recently, I was apparently writing his farewell tribute. Poor Alejandro passed on Friday. … At least that’s when Andrew flushed him down the toilet. He may have died Thursday. Andrew said he hadn’t moved in a long while, so his exact time of death is uncertain.

One thing is for sure though, and that is that Andrew killed my fish. Alejandro was doing just fine until we moved him to Andrew’s apartment a couple of months ago.

I will take only a smidgeon of blame. Perhaps Alejandro would have had a longer, fuller life if I had fed him the supposedly more nutritious bloodworms, instead of regular, run-of-the-mill fish food.

This weekend, aside from dwelling on memories of Alejandro, I ate my weight in ice cream. I also trekked all around the city, so I like to think I walked and sweat most of it off. Wishful thinking, perhaps.

On Saturday, Michelle and I went to a random, obscure Smithsonian museum to see a travelling exhibit featuring Steve Jobs’ patents. Totally neat, but the highlight of the day was the secret delicious gelato we found in the basement of the National Gallery of Art. Who would have known?! Of course, while at the museum, we saw artwork and stuff.

For dinner, I had a huge salad from this great place called Sweet Green, which also sells healthy frozen yogurt. I’m not sure what makes it healthy, but everyone says it is. That’s all I need. So of course, before leaving, I had to eat some … for my health.

Then on Sunday, I walked to Eastern Market to try this gelato place I’ve been eyeing since I moved here in October. After trying an absurd number of flavors, I ordered my pistachio and chocolate. My friends and I then sat outside, on the benches outside of the store. Then, a funny thing happened.

See, there were many benches but no tables. Only one old man had a very small antique-looking table in front of him. At first, I didn’t notice the table. It just blended in as a normal part of the scene.

Then when the man left, he picked up the small table and took it with him. As I watched him carry it down the street, I realized he must have purchased it at the market nearby. If not, he totally stole a table, and no one batted an eye.

In other news, SOMEONE STOP ME FROM EATING SO MUCH ICE CREAM.