Crossroads

You can tell DC is a mix of New York City and someplace like Savannah, GA because half the pedestrians politely wait on the curb for the green crosswalk light and half impatiently dash through speeding traffic. I am one of the latter.

Public Pet Peeve

Thought from yesterday’s commute after a lady smushed down right next to me with her giant stash of makeup:
It really grosses me out when someone sits right beside you (or anywhere near you for that matter) on the Metro and proceeds to apply full makeup—foundation, eyeliner, mascara?! Ewww— inches from my own face?? I feel icky like I’m trapped in their bathroom with them while they floss their teeth and trim nose hairs. To me, anything more than applying lipstick is not commute-kosher.

No Case of the Mondays for Me!

Okay, so we all know Monday’s suck. They especially suck when the weather is dreary and drizzly. This morning I decided to step out into the world with a positive attitude—stop and smell the roses. In my case, it was stop and take pics of the flowers on the way to the metro with my cute pic camera (thanks, beau). The potted flowers looked so pretty with the raindrops. I also decided, hey, don’t rush, let that crowded train go buy and wait a couple minutes for an empty one. Getting off at Metro Center, I thought, hey, take a different walking route on the way to the office. And guess who around the corner to greet me…the Pope. Well, a wax sculpture of him at least. So what I was 15 minutes later than usual to work?

Tasty Treats

Another way to know that the cold weather is officially gone for the season is when you ingest your first bug o' the season. You have be much more alert as a mouth-breather now.

Silent Witness

Time flies on my 18-minute metro morning commute as I do (and finish) the free commuter paper crossword puzzle. Well, yesterday evening, in a semi-empty train, I was seated near a 30-something lovey-dovey couple working on the same crossword puzzle I had completed that morning. They took turns reading the clues aloud and then they chatted about possible answers. As I pretended to be napping, I painfully listened to them mutually agree on a majorly incorrect answer. They excitedly wrote it in with pen and continued with the surrounding clues, as if they had just cracked a WWII cipher. It was really hard for me to keep my mouth shut about their fatal error and not save them from impending puzzle doom.

Thanks, Faux-Mom

This morning I stopped at my corner street vendor for my daily purchase of two diet Pepsi’s. I must sing my vendor-lady’s praises. Not only does greet me with a warm smile and charge me only $2.50 for two 24-ouncers (what a steal!), she has a heart of gold. A few weeks back, I decided to switch from two caffeine-free diet Pepsi’s, to one caffeine free and one caffeinated. She saw me reach into the ice cooler and double checked to make sure I didn’t want two caffeine-free ones instead. I thanked her for remembering but that I had decided I needed some caffeine in the mornings again.
Today, I plunged into the icy cooler for the same—luckily, she caught a huge mistake—I had picked up a regular Pepsi instead a diet one. Ugh—the horror that could have been! She saved me from a wasted soda that I’d have to give away free of charge to a co-worker. She delicately put two diets (one caffeinated, one caffeine-free) in a plastic bag and sent me on my way with a sweet giggle. Her morning motherly care makes me feel I can handle yet another work day. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d happily cut the crusts off my sandwich from my home-packed lunch if I asked.

Trees, grass, and weeds---Oh, my!

I read in the Post that DC residents predisposed to allergies will, at some point, develop them due to the high pollen count. I have lived here three years with not a hint of an allergy, and thus I officially consider myself genetically better than the snifflers and sneezers every spring. Now that I'm LASIKed 20/20, I'd definitely outlive most DCers in the wild.

P.S. The above pic is a note I wrote on my car on the code-red pollen count Saturday.

Censorship Rules! (or should at times...)

Watching a CBS reality show last night, I saw many a blurred women’s boobs flying in and out of their bikini tops. Fair enough—let’s keep it clean for the kiddies and conservatives and all, but why don’t man-boobs (a.k.a. moobs) get blurred out? I mean, double-d moobs are far more graphic and inappropriate for network television, in my humble opinion, than a-cup woobs (a term I just coined for woman-boobs).

Miss Manners?

After almost three years after leaving NYC and living in DC, I’m still trying to figure out this city’s door holding etiquette. In New York, you can pretty much bank on the fact that someone won’t hold the door for you, unless you’re right on their tail and/or they make direct eye contact with you (thus creating some sort of required social politeness). But here, in DC, it seems that it’s polite to hold the door for someone walking up to, say, 20 feet behind you under certain circumstances. For example, how long do you wait and hold the door for someone if:

a) he/she obviously lives in your building?
b) he/she will obviously be entering/exiting your work place?
c) you make eye contact?
d) he/she is a complete stranger on the street?
e) you’re in a crummy mood?
f) you’re in a hurry?

It seems that the longest you should hold the door in any situation is if the person is MAXIMUM 20 quick walking-speed paces behind you. You standing, holding the door, any longer could make seem not extra sweet, but creepy/stalker-nice—like when a stranger makes smiles at you just a tad too long and you feel a bit icky.
My advice is to never look behind you when entering/exiting a building. Only if you hear footsteps close behind, as you’re opening the door, take a quick glance out of your periphery and hold the door for that person.

I’m sure there’s an equation for all this, but I was never that great at math.

Sign Language

In my condo construction-filled neighborhood, I pass by one site that boasts its safety record--they have had no disabling injuries for the past 179 days. I began to notice that the number of days has not increased in at least a week. What has happened since? I thought the number was supposed to increase as construction days continue safely. Perhaps the guy whose job it is to post the daily digits fell hard (really hard) on his hammer...

Flashback

I was walking home from the metro last night and encountered a run-over cassette tape in the middle of the street--not the usual broken cds we see on roads nowadays. I was immediately whisked back for a moment to the early nineties. While I could not make out the words on the cassette, I have a sneaking suspicion that it was Boyz II Men...

DC Radio Ads

Why are there so many DC radio ads for cheapo LASIK? Do you really want to go with a doctor who offers two for one deals on your eyeballs? I personally save coupons for DSW, not eye surgery.

Slippery Spring Sidewalks

I've determined that spring's soggy fallen petals are far more hazardous than fall's soggy fallen leaves. I have soon-to-be bruises on my knees as evidence.

TGIFinal Four

Let's go Memphis! The end of the NCAA basketball season marks a period of mourning for me. Not because b-ball is over, but because baseball season is starting. B to the Oring...

Garbage Mystery

Ever wonder why trash smells exactly the same whether it's from a Chinese takeout or a pizzeria? Probably not.

Mother Nature

You can see that the season is changing just by the fewer and fewer lost gloves on sidewalks.

April Fools

April Fools=the four FBI agents I encountered across the street from the Hoover Building. Walking and chatting on their way to the entrance, I heard them laughing, sipping their Au Bon Pain coffee. Then one said "sometimes you just feel like whacking your wife." Chuckles ensued. Um, I hope they were discussing The Sopranos and not an investigation...