Bring on the Rain

If you are like me & tend to get caught in the rain without an umbrella, you might, at some point, decide it'd be a good idea to sign yourself up for The Weather Channel's text messaging system, which alerts you to weather goings-on via cellular.

DON'T BE FOOLED. This is not a good idea. I signed up on Friday evening, when D.C. was in the throes of a flash flood warning, & I have since received no fewer than 20 texts regarding pollen count, low temperature threshold &, oh yes, chances of rain.

Between these texts from Weather.com & the ones I'm getting on the daily from Barack Obama, my inbox is, dare I say... flooded?

Jerks Like Art, Too

Tonight Joanna, Jessie & I ventured on over to the National Cathedral to check out Light to Unite, described as "dramatic & unifying images projected on the Cathedral." I expected it to be, as I later told the girls, "Chihuly in light," something like the advertisements, invitations & computer wallpaper suggest. Something like this:



Instead, we watched the smiling faces of random folks pass across the Cathedral in slideshow fashion -- everyday people resembling those portrayed in Noxema ads. Oh, and the Dalai Lama. Needless to say, it was not exactly the dynamo I'd hoped for.

On the upside, we overheard a super-awkward spat that went as follows:

Passive/Aggressive Woman Behind Us: "I can't believe this. People are so rude! We waited three hours for these seats & people are just standing in front of our chairs."
Guy Standing In Front Of Her: "Yeah? How much did you guys pay for these seats?" (turns & leaves)
Not-So-Passive/Just-Aggressive Hubby: "Oh, THAT was a really nice thing to say! EL JERKO!"

It was a lovely interaction to witness at an art exhibit designed to bring people together and, you know, unite. Regardless, "el jerko" is one of the cooler insults I've heard as of late, don't you think?

Manic Monday, Meet Presidential Monday

There are only a select few jobs in which you can expect to recieve a call from the White House & an email from the President of the Church of Scientology in the same day.

...I love my job.

"Just Wanted to Feel the Power Between My Legs"

This was the view from outside my friend Katie's window this morning. I know I often say, "Only in D.C.," but this time I really mean it.





P.S.: Name the movie this post's title comes from!

Dear Mr. Postman:

This constitutes a sad day.


Come on. Not even any junk mail?!?

Dining Out in the District (The Please-Forgive-Me Post)

If I give you a lot of pictures, will you try to ignore the fact that I haven't posted in 18 days??? It won't happen again - promise!

_________

You've heard of bread bowls? Kanlaya Thai in Chinatown takes it to the next level. Jonah ordered "chicken pineapple," which came in... half a pineapple. The waiter informed us that this dish is "very popular," which makes me wonder how many pineapples Kanlaya goes through per day. Weird.

I always knew The Big Hunt in Dupont was a classy joint -- this is the same restaurant where the waitress won't bring you your rail drink if you call it by its "fancy name" -- but the graffiti in the upstairs bathroom takes the cake as far as class goes.



Things you expect to find in the women's restroom at your average bar: paper towels, beer bottles, tampon wrappers... banana peels? I spotted all of the above on a late-night at Garrett's in Georgetown. Who was getting their 4 - 5 servings in the ladies' room?! Super sanitary, I know.



Yes, I pulled a cheesy tourista move in stopping on a crowded sidewalk to be the girl who takes a photo of the sign outside Big Wong in Chinatown. Come on, who let this happen? Really?



For the life of me I can't remember where I took this -- but this is the sort of bathroom graffiti you only see in D.C.



When the banquet folks at the Sheraton National in Arlington, VA, were coming up with centerpiece ideas, I think the discussion probably went something like this. "Yeah, let's do some extravagant floral arrangements on the buffet tables." "Um, sir, the prices are up on fresh flower these days..." "Well, shit, does anyone have a red pepper & some asparagus? Cuz that'll do the trick, too."

I Fought the Law

I bet I'm the only person you've ever known who's gotten a verbal warning for jaywalking.

True story.

Return of the Transportation Trauma

Two minutes into our cab ride in the pouring rain, my elderly Hungarian driver rasps, "You may be better off on zee Subway!" Despite my protests, he drops me two blocks from Farragut West & I stupidly pay him $14 before hoofing it to the Metro, where I take a 10-minute cab ride to Capitol South. In retrospect, I'd like to ssay this to my cabbie, regardless of his age or feebleness: "SCREW YOU! If I'd wanted to take the Metro, I wouldn't have hailed you in the first place, you useless moron. It's not my fault you picked me up when your tank was on E, but don't pawn me off on the Metro so you can remedy it, & then expect me to pay you."

If I'd taken the cab the whole way, however, I'd have missed the guy who hopped on at Judiciary Square & announced to our traincar,"Excuse me! Please look here!" & sang a hymnal all the way to the next stop before telling everyone, "Thank you & God bless," then running to the next car to repeat. I videotaped it, but the footage won't upload from my phone to my computer. DAMN IT.

And on the positive side of today, I did see a man carrying the mother of all murses.


(That's man-purses, for you non-word-combiners out there. Tell me this one isn't a beaut.)

A Brief Study on Eating Habits in the District

Exhibit A)

In the heart of the U.S., Thai food abounds -- and so, apparently, do bad puns. In case Thai Phoon wasn't horrific enough, I present to you my (very classy) new favorite, located in Logan Circle. How is it that a place this place offensive hasn't sunk already? Ba-dum-chhh, I'll be here all night.


Exhibit B)

Just because you pay $1000+ in monthly rent doesn't mean you're also cashing in on the most up-to-date new kitchen appliances. Case in point? This monstrosity of a microwave, sitting on the curb outside a snazzy Dupont townhouse. I'm pretty sure you could time travel in this thing, or at least generate some madly cancerous rays.


Exhibit C)
On a personal note, the contents of my refrigerator are still the saddest thing I have seen since... well, since I took a picture of that microwave a few hours ago, but you get the point. I just "cooked" one Pillsbury Grand & one Morningstar Farms faux-sausage patty in my toaster oven to create a delightful breakfats sandwich for one. Ohhh, the creative things you think of when you're kitchenless.

The Abduction That Never Was & The Dance Party That Wouldn't End

Want to know how awesome last night was? Last night was so awesome that at one point, I texted two friends from Ohio to say, "I'm at U St. & Clifton in D.C. In case I get abducted, I want someone to know where I am." Last night was so awesome that I forced Ben & Arielle to take a cab the final three blocks of our walk to the Wonderland Bar because I was that convinced we were about to get mugged. Last night was so awesome that the cab drive only charged us $6 instead of $11 because he said it wasn't safe for us to be out walking.

Once we arrived at said bar, however, the night became actually awesome. Wonderland is this awkward pseudo-hipster bar, the kind I'd be into at home if such places existed in the 'burbs. When we arrived, a makeshift dance party was in the works, led by (among others) a guy with intense 'chops wearing an Elmo tee and a shiny green jacket with GRISWOLD emblazoned across the back.

We had a helluva time establishing different genres of dancers -- i.e. the clappers, the snappers, the side-steppers, the hands-in-the-airers, the robotics, the girl who looked like a tranny who pulled a lot of showy "look at me!" moves. In the end, we caved & joined the fray & danced til we literally were so sweaty we couldn't bear to be in public anymore.

And on the way out, we noticed this light switch ---