Friday Night.

Just around a year ago, I boarded a plane by myself and flew to Washington D.C. The only trouble I had was independently lifting my carry-on with my lack of strength into the overhead bin. I sat in window seat near the front of the plane and tried to hide my excitement of the weekend ahead of me.

Flying into D.C. is one of my favorite things. The view is incredible. Every monument you learned about in elementary school is right there out your window. The Potomac River winds below you. It just feels so American. 

As soon as my plane landed, I played it cool and tried not to injure myself as I retrieved my carry-on and wheeled it right to the front of the airport. I hailed a cab, and when he asked me my destination, I proudly responded "1500 Pennsylvania Avenue." He rolled his eyes, because I'm sure he gets that a lot, or he thought I was lying, or he just clearly wasn't as stoked as I was. 

It was Friday night-- Friday night in the big town-- and I had a date.

The cab driver dropped me off at the corner of 15th and G street, and I, once again, grabbed my carry-on and proceeded to roll it right up the the security checkpoint of the White House. It wasn't until I cleared security that I realized I was a weirdo with a blue carry-on, rolling up to the home of the President of the United States. 

There at the doors of the East Wing, I was greeted by my dear cousin. We hugged, then proceeded in the giant doors. It was my first time in the White House, and it was everything that I had imagined and then some.

Except for a few people, we had the place to ourselves since it was a Friday night. We roamed through the building, looking at each room in great detail. He talked, and I listened. The paintings, the china, the bookshelves, and the perfect furniture... Every piece had a story, and a reason for it's placement.

The China Room was one of my favorites, because it held every President's personalized State China. Each set of dishes different than the next, in color and in pieces, but complemented one another so they could be mixed and matched when they were put to use. I liked the idea that President Johnson's dinner plate could be paired with President Bush's dessert plate. The Obama's added a soup tureen to their set, and I thought that was a nice touch. There was something so human and normal about the dishes. It reminded me of my China cabinet back home, that I had inherited from my great-grandmother, and how I used it to serve guests that came to my house the same way that these dishes were used to serve guests.

I've never considered myself a history nerd, especially since I come from a family of history nerds, but that night, I was the biggest history nerd on the planet. I wanted to breathe in the special air that so many great people before me had taken in. I wanted to know everything there was to know about the White House. I wanted to take in the view of the Washington Monument while I stood in the Rose Garden, and commit the sacred feeling to my memory.

It was such a special time, to walk through the wings of the White House. I've watched Scandal, The West Wing, Madam Secretary, House of Cards, etc. but this was real. This wasn't Frank Underwood's White House from the comfort of my couch, this was real life.

And just to complete our perfect evening, we grabbed a coffee from the Navy Mess Hall. 

Something I realized later that night was that I didn't take any pictures. I took one: of President George Washington's portrait hanging in the Diplomatic Reception Room. But that was it.

It was just one of those things that couldn't be recreated or shown off through pictures. It was something meant to be soaked in and enjoyed in the moment. And now, it's my moment, that will forever be my favorite Friday night date that I've ever had.

I had a wonderful trip to DC, full of lots of great food, rooftop drinks, art museums, Uber rides, and brunch. One afternoon in Georgetown, I even bought my favorite dress that I've ever owned. But nothing topped Friday. And I'm not sure any trip to DC ever will.

When I think about that day, it still brings a smile to my face. Partly because it seems a bit surreal, but also because it's something I'll get to tell my future children someday. I'm sure they won't believe me, because sometimes I forget that it was real and I was at the White House, by invitation, to hang out on a Friday Night.