7 December, 2009
password is the same as my email signoff.
28 September, 2009
16 July, 2009
The Cubs are in town. This year they are here for four whole games, which is a lot to attend (two is no problem, three is a bit much). I haven’t done four in a while. OTOH, 3/4 of them are at night, which is not true for weekend four-game series in Wrigley. So I got that going for me. Less heatstroke.
I don’t buy tix in advance in DC. I show up, decide how much to spend, and spend it. It feels so reckless to show up without tickets! It’s not, of course, considering that the Nats are suck and DC does not give a rat’s ass about baseball and the only sellout ever was one of the nights when the Red Sox were in town. But to Cubs fans, who need to secure their tickets over the winter, it is bizarre.
Since DC thoughtfully acquired an NL baseball team before I relocated here, I can mark my DC time by Cubs series. In 2006, I had gone to Chicago for Opening Weekend, and my friend and fellow Cub sufferer Jake came to DC for their series in July. We went to all three, I think…two at least. My strongest memory of those games is that the Cubs sucked. I took my favorite “agony of defeat” photo:
hee hee! God, I love that photo. It actually made me feel better to look at it last fall when…well, you know. (and if you don’t, look back a few posts on the blog.)
I don’t remember 2007 too well, I didn’t make it to many games that year. It was the Nats’ last year in RFK, that I do recall. On July 4, I went down for a last-minute ticket and happened to run into my friend the LA native and Dodgers fan. DC is like that–go out relatively often and be relatively social and you will see people you know everywhere.
2008 was memorable in many ways:
1) I made a “baseball friend” a week or so before the series. She was selling me shoes and happened to have a team bracelet on, which began a conversation, etc. Our chats helped me psych myself up for the series.
2) After a game I ran into Len Kasper and Bob Brenly in the Metro. They didn’t want to wait for the bus, they said, because “the guys take forever in the showers.” (In case you are wondering, the team stays at the Mayflower Hotel.) I thought of something intelligent to say to them about 10 minutes later.
3) What with ballpark food and tickets, I had budgeted myself a pile of cash for the weekend, and on Sunday found myself with a lot left over. Hmm…why save what you can spend? I bought myself nice seats right next to the visitors dugout.
So all in all, last year set a high bar for Cubs series awesomeness. My materialist goals for this year are:
–Have Carlos Zambrano sign my hat.
–Have Aramis Ramirez sign something. My hat? My Ramirez jersey? Not sure…
–Spring for awesome seats again at least once.
But it’s the intangibles that count, and in that department I am already on track. Tonight: I bought good seats in my favorite area and jumped to even better seats in said area. I was surrounded by the best kind of fans: knowledgeable enough to respect the other team, chatty but not overbearing, and hilarious. The Cubs won handily, D-Lee hit a nice home run right to our area of right field. And on the way home, despite us leaving at different times and taking different trains, I ran into the same fans! DC is like that. We had a lovely chat about the Nats’ patheticness (too easy a target), the President’s skill in sports picks, and general Chicago baseball fandom–they had grown up as near Comiskey as I had near Wrigley. (They weren’t the hating kind of Sox fans, but there was something odd about them. “I’m a Sox fan,” one said, “but I root for the Cubs when they’re in the playoffs.” …huh?)
OK…better get to bed, I have a long evening of baseball tomorrow.
29 June, 2009
From this NYT blog post
11. Food quickly picked up from the floor is safe to eat. Scientists have put the commonly-cited five-second rule to the test. They found that food that comes into contact with a tile or wood floor does pick up large amounts of bacteria. Food doesn’t pick up many germs when it hits carpet, but it does pick up carpet fuzz.
It cracks me up to read serious debunkings of this “rule.” It’s a JOKE, people! It always has been!
21 June, 2009
I finished the Sunday NYT crossword puzzle! On Sunday! I finished one once before, but it took a few days of revisits.
I am pretty psyched about this. Growing up, the Sunday puzzles (NYT and the Chicago papers) were a family affair. My mom and I would work on one until we got stuck, and then we’d swap. (We’d ask my stepdad for sports clues, but the answer we got depended on his mood–he is prone to making things up. Thanks for giving me the right answer today, though!)
Now to read the, you know, news.
15 June, 2009
Downtown I was, pre-dentist, grabbing a quick sandwich at a quick-sandwich place, when something green caught my eye. A table over from me was a young woman with long blonde hair. A law student summer intern if I’ve ever seen one. Her skirt suit was new, a young fabric and retro cut yet conservative enough to work in even a stodgy law firm. Her 3-inch black patent leather shoes were also new, as were the blisters they had created on her heels. The green was a scrap of green paper she had put over one heel by (poor) way of cushion against the grippy pointiness that is the back of a new pair of patent leather shoes.
Now, about interns for my non-Beltway readers. We DC “residents” are supposed to despise and detest the interns that descend on us for the summer. Not without reason, mind you: the archetypal jerkoff is the guy who wears his Congressional ID badge on the Metro…on weekends. In such a situation I am supposed to mock her naivete re professional dress, and her gall for daring to come to Our Nation’s Capital to further her career and eat lunch near me.
But no. My heart went out to her. I have been there, and if you have not been there, then you are a man. A poorly dressed man. I’m pushing 33, and seeing this woman made me realize that I actually have learned a thing or two in the last decade. This particular lesson is a hard and often expensive one: as you walk slowly around the store in your hot shoes the Sunday before your job starts, you are so psyched about how good you look and so stressed about how little time you have that you ignore the glaring signs that the shoes will rip your feet to shreds in three blocks. The sub-lesson: keep band-aids on hand for emergencies, and they should be big enough such that the crappy shoes don’t scrape them off when you need them most.
Nu? I offered her two large band-aids from my mini-purse (a smaller bag of goodies that can fit in any of my main purses). I thought she would cry. Me, I got a warm glow, and, I hope, some karma. Maybe I should start “Be Kind To An Intern Day.”
Hey, audience participation! Ladies and smart men, what’s in your emergency kit? Mine:
- Aforementioned bandaids (~1.5x~2.5″)
- Normaler-sized bandaids
- Pencil, pen, laser-pointer USB pen
- Pseudo-sudafed (sometimes Advil too)
- Lady products (both kinds, and pantiliners)
- Nail file/s, nail clippers, cuticle oil
- Lip balm (slightly reddish so can double as lip color)
- Hair rubber band and little clips
- Business cards (in holder so they don’t get grody)
- Razor blade
- Reusable shopping bag
- Moleskine slim notebook
- The card from a bouquet of flowers my man sent me last Valentine’s Day when I was out of town
- Copy of the Constitution (for which I have already been mocked, thank you)
Note this is the non-mother edition. That is a whole other ballgame…