City Musings
(from your Suburban Sweetheart)

The Separation of Church & Street

2008-08-19T23:44:00.004-04:00

You can't read the rest of what's written on this car because I had to snap this pic from across the street, but written just above the back wheel are the words, "Fueled by the Blood of Christ, Driven by the Holy Ghost."

Listen, please don't think I'm ragging on this vehicle just because I'm Jewish. I blog in peace & mean no offense to the Christians among you. But it is my sincerest hope that you, my logical readers of all denominations, will agree with me when I say that no matter your Higher Power of choice, a simple bumper sticker would suffice.

Cinematic Schizophrenia

2008-08-18T01:56:00.005-04:00

Based on Netflix's list of the top 25 most popular rentals in the Washington, D.C. area, I LIVE IN THE MOST BORING CITY ON THE PLANET. They are as follows:

1. The War Room
2. All the President's Men
3. K Street: The Complete Series
4. L'Auberge Espagnole
5. The Syrian Bride
6. The Candidate
7. Gilmore Girls: Season 3
8. The Boys of Baraka
9. 2046
10. Paradise Now
11. Russian Dolls
12. Can Mr. Smith Get to Washington Anymore?
13. The Manchurian Candidate
14. The West Wing: Season 4
15. Lost Boys of Sudan
16. Good Bye, Lenin!
17. MI-5: Vol. 4
18. Nueve Reinas
19. Central do Brasil
20. La Battaglia di Algeri
21. The Fog of War: Eleven Lessons From the Life of Robert S. McNamara
22. La Haine
23. The West Wing: Season 5
24. The West Wing: Season 2
25. The Wire: Season 4

[Note: Please don't think I haven't noticed that, as the children's song goes, "one of those things is not like the other ones."]

Comparatively, my own personal Netflix queue contains the following 25 movies (with commentary, of course):

1. Smart People (although I dislike Ellen Page)
2. Dan in Real Life (Steve Carrell does semi-seriousness?)
3. Semi-Pro (Touted as one of Will Ferrell's funniest?)
4. Friends with Money (Don't even remember what this is about)
5. Into the Wild (Could end up like Castaway -- terrible)
6. Read it and Weep (a Disney Channel original)
7. College Road Trip (starring Raven-Symone)
8. Footoose (Obligatory classic musical)
9. I’m Not There (Netflix gives it a 1.5 star rating)
10. Jawbreaker (Blatant rip-off of Heathers)
11. The Lake House (Widely touted as being... shitty)
12. Harold and Maude (Am not going to like this but felt obligated to try)
13. The Machinist (Love me some rail-thin Christian Bale)
14. The Break-Up (Also touted as terrible)
15. Fool’s Gold (Just for the McConaughey body shots)
16. Lars and the Real Girl (Creepy concept)
17. Monster’s Ball (Billy Bob AND Puff Daddy!)
18. Bringing Down the House (Yep, with Queen Latifah & Steve Martin.)
19. Fur (What IS this?!)
20. Running with Scissors (Will probably make me hate the book)
21. Little Children (Suburban scandal)
22. Match Point (Turns out Topher Grace is NOT in this. Damn.)
23. No Country for Old Men (Obligatory award-winner)
24. The Big Lebowski (Seriously never seen it!)
25. Maria Full of Grace (Cocaine smuggling goes artsy.)

Based on cinematic preference, should I be living elsewhere? The answer, it seems, is clear. But where? Disneyworld? The '90s? High school? Christian Bale's bed? A psych ward? Discuss.

Another One Bites the Dust

2008-08-17T22:46:00.004-04:00

Rushing to meet Aaron at the Imax theater for a massive-screen viewing of "Dark Knight," I practically ran down the Cleveland Park Metro escalator(s). As I reached the bottom, I broke into a run -- & promptly fell on my arse. It was the kind of fall I would have blogged about had I watched it happen to someone else, so I suppose it's only fair I write about it now.

It was a movie-perfect fall. I watched my feet fly out from under me. I caught some air, waited to hit the ground. Landed solidly on my right side & slide a good foot & a half across the slippery tile floor. I fell so hard I knocked the wind out of myself, so hard I couldn't get up right away -- I just had to sit & recoup... & cry.

A train had just come by, so people were filing up the stairs onto the mezzanine platform where I'd just fallen. About 20 people watched it happen, including a little boy who ran up to me to make sure I was all right. At least three other people stopped to ask if I was OK, but I was so embarrassed & hazy that I couldn't even look at them. All I remember is looking up at the little boy's mom & seeing the shock on her face -- even a good 10 seconds after I'd hit the ground, her jaw was still hanging open. I fell THAT HARD.

My only real damage, though? I missed the train, of course, but otherwise all I hurt was my right pinky finger, which appears to be bruised beneath the nail. Painful, yes, but not as badly injured as my ego. You just know that a few of the people who watched that spectacle texted friends to say, "I just saw the best fall ever..." And let's face it - I can't even blame them.

Herrrre, Kitty, Kitty

2008-08-17T22:38:00.002-04:00

Every time I walk past the National Zoo, I worry that a large cat of some sort has escaped & is lurking in the shrubbery waiting to tear me to shreds. And you probably gave me a little mental chuckle as you read that, but I want you to know: This is a serious fear. And, I think, a somewhat rational one.

Death by surprise cheetah (or leopard or tiger or lion or panther) attack is NOT the way I want to go. Be careful walking home, kids.

What the Cluck?

2008-08-05T01:12:00.006-04:00

Oh! I almost forgot to tell you -- today I rode the redline with a chicken!

That's right. A chicken. OK, not a real chicken, which probably would have been cooler-slash-dirtier, but this morning when I hopped onto my traincar, I was pleased to find a person in a chicken costume sitting on the floor in front of the door on the other side.

Was said chicken doing on the redline, you ask? It's unclear, but the chicken was clothed in a DC Voice t-shirt, an organization that focuses on the quality of education within the District. Frankly, I see zero correlation between education & chickens, but maybe I'm just an egghead. Regardless, I imagine he (she? Not sure if this was a cock or a hen!) was really struggling under the ~~yolk~~ yoke of that crazy getup. Walking the hot, muggy streets of D.C. in a costume like that has got to be like hanging out in an incubator all day.

I am very, very sad to report that I was entirely unable to snap a photo of the majority of this fowl impersonator. However, on the off chance that you wouldn't believe my story without a photo , I did take a pic of the one part of the chicken I could really see. The rest, I think, will sort of appear in your imagination.

The Partial Love List with a D.C. flair

2008-08-03T14:04:00.003-04:00

I've become quite the avid reader of strangers' blogs, especially on days like today, when my birthday-induced hangover headache is so all-encompassing that I'm sitting in silence with little else to do but feverishly browse the Interwebs.

Meg Fowler and Jodiferous both made these cute little love lists (lists of things they love, obvi). I decided to do the same & remembered to include some very D.C.-oriented loves, in keeping with this blog's theme.

- Mail from my grandmother
- Trying new restaurants in D.C.
- Kindness from strangers
- Getting into a good book
- Shopping for new books at Kramerbooks
- Really capable, friendly waiters
- The L1 bus arriving on time
- Texting
- The bearded Big Hunt bartender’s typewriter & lamp tattoos
- Going home for the weekend
- Being on airplanes
- Union Station
- Knowing I’ll be visiting NYC a bit next year
- Lunch with my coworkers
- Shopping at Target, which is difficult to get to in D.C.
- When my hair is really, really straight
- Black Revlon eyeliner
- Getting compliments on my work from my boss
- Froyo from Tangysweet with kiwis and honey
- Waking up early, which is a total rarity
- Ohio pride
- Fruit punch hookah- Getting out of work early on Fridays
- Painting pottery at All Fired Up
- Living alone
- My old teddy bear
- The Uptown, the historic one-screen theatre down the street
- Midday naps
- Telling stories with lots of hand motions
- Freshly laundered suits
- Spotting real characters within the D.C. Metro system
- TV-on-DVD marathons
- Laughing so hard I can’t breathe
- Phone calls with my mom
- Matrimonio margaritas from Alero
- Making collage cards
- Blogging (& learning that people read my blog)
- Eating at Rockne’s as much as possible when home
- Living in Cleveland Park surrounded by families & tourists & great restaurants
- Listing all the things I love

Your turn: What do YOU love? And I know you read this, so pony up & comment already!

Birth Week Begins! (Or "The Porn Star Who Came to Dinner")

2008-08-02T01:48:00.007-04:00

I admit that I tend to be a bit of a birthday snob, the sort of person who celebrates a Birth Week, capitalized, rather than a simple birthday. And I admit I'd been worried that my 24th would slide by unnoticed here in D.C, that I didn't know enough people here to make it special. I feel blessed to discover that though my friends here may be few, they are mighty. Let Birth Week begin! :)

Aaron announced that he would be taking me to dinner tonight. After much inner struggle regarding where to dine (which included list-making, suggestion-taking & menu-Googling), I decided upon Urbana, a fairly new, trendy restaurant in Dupont where I once had the best hors d'oeuvre of my life.

Not that you really care, but for my personal benefit, I shall recount my glorious meal. It included a shared tagliere of meats & cheeses, an entree of swiss chard & ricotta ravioli with grilled bacon & parmesan, an amazing cucumber-infused vodka cocktail that I can't find a description of online, plus a (free!) birthday dessert of tiramisu & quite a large glass of a dessert wine, Coppo Bracetto D'Acqui, which the waiter surprised me with. I LOVED IT ALL SO MUCH, especially the company! I don't think such restaurants exist in Akron, Ohio, & this boy sure doesn't. Two D.C. pluses.

The next-best part came when the two women sitting at the neighboring booth left & Aaron informed me that one of them, the one I'd just chatted about Ohio with, was actually a fairly well-known porn star!!! That's right, I spent my birthday dinner sitting next to Sara Jay, a 36E-sized Cincinnatian who has sex for a living. She was, I might add, very nice, if not a bit scantily clad... although in retrospect, I suppose that's to be expected.

Who needs a Birth Week when you have such a lovely pre-birthday evening???

Rave Review?

2008-07-31T21:13:00.002-04:00

This is posted in large print & framed outside Dino, a fairly swanky Cleveland Park restaurant, but I've got to wonder... is this really the sort of review they want to showcase???

"Sorry, You're Just Not My Thaip."

2008-07-28T01:12:00.006-04:00

My favorite D.C. dining location is dead.

OK, that's not technically true: Five Sala Thais still exist throughout the District. But my favorite, the one that taught me to appreciate Thai food & cultivated in me a certain level of embarrassment when its staff began to remember my name & order, has officially kicked the bucket. Yes, the Uptown Sala Thai is now Paragon Thai, a more expensive version of, well, the exact same thing. My beloved Chicken Ka Prow is now a whopping $1.00 more, and the delivery fee has been upped by an unacceptable three bones.

Needless to say, I am devastated.

I am, however, wildly entertained by the grand opening banner running across Paragon Thai's newly launched Web site. Observe the screen shot below:

A Middle-Earth Moment

2008-07-28T00:20:00.003-04:00

Bilbo Baggins lives -- in D.C.!!!

One of my life's greatest regrets is that I was unable to capture photographic evidence of this man's hobbit-like face.

WMATA Five-Oh: Underground Edition

2008-07-27T21:14:00.013-04:00

I don't know whether I can describe last night's late-night goings-on any better than my dear friend Rebecca, who eloquently & verbosely articulated on her blog, Blake Take Two, the sight we saw a mere 24 hoursish ago -- but, of course, I shall try.

METRO ARRESTS! That's right, as we descended the escalator into the Dupont Circle Metro Station, a cop rushed past us to give a pat-down & a handcuffing to a disgruntled-looking young criminal of some sort. Our curiosity, of course, was piqued, but we carried on. Please forgive the lighting and haziness of the pic that follows, but I was a bit concerned about the legality of photographing an arrest & therefore made no second attempt when the first came out looking like the equivalent of an ultrasound, where I'm like, "There's a hand!" and you're like, "That looks like a pixelated chicken." Basically, it's an onlooker (with possible involvement) watching as the copper cuffs our perp:

Imagine our excitement in discovering that Arrest Numero Uno was only 50% of the excitement. Two more of D.C.'s finest were making their way to the train platform, where they were greeted with wild applause from onlookers. Sadly, it was unclear what had gone down prior to our arrival &, therefore, what the applause was for, but we assume the innocent Metro-waiting bystanders were so exasperated by whatever crime was occurring that their applause was an expression of sheer relief at the five-ohs' arrival.

I snapped the following photo of a ring of cops surrounding the apparent suspect, whom I overheard yelling, "I was just defendin' myself!" which leads me to to believe the whole thing was just some teenage tussle. Either way, you know I love me some public transportation exhilaration!!!

Accidental Accessorizing

2008-07-26T11:47:00.004-04:00

Unfortunately, my covert cellular photography skills got away from me on this one, but you'll get the gist.

Although I attempt not to blog at the expense of others, I couldn't let this one slide -- bird crap allll down the back of this bus rider's man's button-up. I wanted to say something to him, but "Hey, there's shit on your shirt" didn't exactly seem like the Good Samaritan line I was going for. And I didn't want to embarrass him, although I suppose it's already embarrassing to have avian excrement down your back. Then again, what was he going to do? Take his shirt off & spit-clean it right there on the bus? No, he was better off not knowing, so I'm a Good Samaritan after all.

And who am I kidding? "Blogging at the expense of others" is what I'm all about.

The Daytime Hooker Look

2008-07-25T00:23:00.002-04:00

Listen, I like a little black dress as much as the next classy lady, but come on -- white patent heels AND a matching bag at 4 p.m. on a Wednesday???

Sadly, what was cut out of this picture was the best part: this girls' roots -- which matched her dress -- & the crazy, oversized, white faux flower that dominated her left boob. You can juuust see it poking over her left shoulder. Priceless.

Sole Decision

2008-07-25T00:16:00.006-04:00

Even in the big city -- or maybe I should say ESPECIALLY in the big city -- such footwear is NEVER, EVER acceptable in public.

In other shoes news, a note to the woman who clomped down the escalator to the Dupont Circle Metro this afternoon: If your descent into public transportation sounds like a goddamn horse race, you should probably rethink your footwear choices.

(I should note that the girl in this picture wearing the green flats is to be commended for her uber-cute, enviable choice of shoes. Very acceptable.)

The Curse of the 5th-Floor Corridor

2008-07-24T23:57:00.003-04:00

Today I happened upon Greg, my cop neighbor on the other side. I only know Greg because our apartment door open into one another's, & if we both try to leave at the same time, our doors lock into place & we get stuck in our residences. It happened once, sort of, but I live in fear of the second go-round, which I am quite sure will eventually occur.

Anyway, I couldn't help but notice the massive blue cast overwhelming Greg's right hand. What is it about this place???

GOOD RIDDANCE!

2008-07-19T16:50:00.002-04:00

I'd wondered for weeks, but now it's official. Alvin & Anita, also known as The Neighbors Behind My Bruised Hand, have MOVED OUT!!! They sure weren't here very long. Not that I'm complaining -- this mean I no longer have to tiptoe around the building hoping not to run into the randy couple.

The new tenant is named Max, & he seems very nice. If nothing else, he says his bedroom is on the other side of the apartment (a whole room & a half away from mine!) & he promises not to have ridiculously loud sex.

Cheers to no more contused hand bones.

Bar-B-quin' with my HONEY

2008-07-16T11:54:00.001-04:00

As a follow-up to this post, I am somewhat ashamed to say that I caved today (i.e. got really hungry) & actually ate the Rap Snacks.

Even more shameful?

They tasted WONDERFUL.

Somebody tell Lil Romeo that I'm a believer.

Chickening Out on a Hometown Hero

2008-07-16T10:09:00.004-04:00

I could've met former astronaut & Ohio Senator John Glenn yesterday, had I not been A) too impatient to wait for the crowd around him to thin, & B) too wussy to say anything to him anyway.

I try not to have regrets, but MAN, do I wish I'd stuck around to meet John Glenn. I'm not sure what I would've said ("Hey! I drove down the John & Annie Glenn Highway on my way to college" seems ridiculous), but I could've at least tried.

As a consolation prize, I left the event (a memorial service for fellow Ohio Senator Howard Metzenbaum, who died in March) & stepped onto an elevator occupied by some current member of the Senate rushing to a floor vote. Unfortunately, I have no idea who he was.

Wrapper's Delight

2008-07-15T12:46:00.005-04:00

I got off the Metro this afternoon & picked up a banana from my favorite street corner vendor, a stocky Arab woman with super-cheap prices & a good selection of food that's completely devoid of any nutritional value (OK, except for the banana, obviously). As I searched her rack of chip selections for a bag of Sun Chips, I came across the most glorious potato snack ever created. I don't intend to eat them, of course, but how could I pass up the hilarity of the bag they came in?

I've heard tell of these Rap Snacks, designed to attract teenage inner-city kids to potato-chip eating. Apparently Doritos' advertising scheme is not workin' the ghetto vibe. Rap Snacks to the rescue! Rap Snacks, which claims to be a 10-year-old company (a fact of which I am skeptical), basically just slaps a hip-hop star's face on poorly designed bags & hopes to hit it big in the apparently otherwise-neglected inner-city potato chip industry.

If you can't see clearly, the flavor of chips contained inside this particular bag is "Bar-b-quin' with my HONEY," which I assume means Honey BBQ, although my suburban slangless roots can't be sure of my deciphering skills. What actually freaks me out the most is that the bag with Yung Joc on them is HONEY DEW flavored. What does that mean? Like... actual honeydew? The fruit? Or is this somehow slang, too?

Whatever. Who am I to rag on the "official snack of hip-hop"? Gotta give somebody credit for innovation...

Home Sweet You-Know-What Motel

2008-07-13T00:44:00.005-04:00

I may later blog on about some of the myriad of questions that are flitting throughout my brain following an intense day of traveling, but for now, this is all I will post. This aforementioned "this" is a rather blurry photo, primarily because I didn't want to get to close to its subject. Yes, dear readers, what you are about to see was taken at approximately 11:51 p.m. EST in the lobby of my beloved apartment building, two legs squashed to the gaudy checkboard tiles but otherwise fully in tact, i.e. bodily, i.e. the gross part:

...ROACH!!!!!!!!

Kate Does Cali (With a Little Help)

2008-07-11T03:12:00.006-04:00

In case you missed it, everyone's favorite Suburban Sweetheart has spent most of this week in the Golden State working with a group of high schoolers who are spending a month in San Francisco doing volunteer work.

Today was a light day, so I met up with my old college roommate for dinner at Spiazzo in West Portal (very nice); afterwards, she sent me on my way back to the San Fran State dorms via muni, this city's snazzy term for public transportation that's part bus, part train & wholly unMetro. She told me which stop to get off at, & I successfully un-boarded, at which time I realized I had a bigger problem -- I had no idea how to get back to my building. No one I stopped for directions seemed to have ever set foot in the city before, so I wandered the SFSU campus aimlessly for a bit before asked three Asian tourists for help.

"Strangers!" the one man said, indicating his inability to direct me. "Me, too," I sighed, turning to leave. But then one of the men turned back to me -- "You need map?" he asked, & I must have looked either very grateful or very, very lost, because the men conversed in their native tongue for a sec & then assigned one of the three to Directional Duty. He motioned for me to follow him, & we set off across the quad, him quite determined & me quite embarrassed/grateful/hoping not to be abducted/etc.

He spoke approximately a dozen words of English, including (& probably limited to) the following:

"You American?" -- To determine my ethnicity (& he was Korean, for the record)
"Two weeks" -- The amount of time he was staying at SFSU
"Mechanical engineering" -- His course of study
"Very cold" -- Pretty self-explanatory
"More clothes?" -- Following the previous statement, while offering his sweatshirt to me (I declined)
"I'm OK" -- When I thanked him repeatedly for his help; I think he meant "It's OK!" but it's unclear

In other foreigner news, earlier in the day I verbally battled a small gang of somewhat agrressive Austrian swimmers aged approximately 12-15 as they begged to climb out my dorm window to retrieve a ball they'd thrown onto the roof outside it. My answer, of course, was no; instead, a teammate scaled the side of the building, Spiderman-style, & successfully obtained said ball.

Over all, quite the international day for me. Who needs a passport when you can conjur up awkward interactions with strangers from abroad?

Note to Self: Hang On to Your Reminders

2008-07-07T21:49:00.004-04:00

Today I spotted a small, pink Post-It note stuck to the Metro escalator railing that read, "Don't forget! Rakowski time sheets!!!"

Three exclamation points, no kidding.
Poor Rakowski. I wonder if he ever got paid?

My New Favorite Game, Part Dos

2008-07-03T18:54:00.009-04:00

Round Two: Things That Are Bigger Than Kate's Apartment:
(Round One was here, in case you missed it.)

#3: My office, lovingly known as "The KRB," which is inhabited by four employees & our desks, is still larger than my abode.

Musical Metro Chairs & the Guessing Game that Goes with It

2008-07-02T18:57:00.009-04:00

Decisions, decisions.

There's a fine art to deciding who to sit next to on the Metro. The ideal situation is to sit in one seat of a free pair of seats, thus avoiding the problem entirely. But often, as was the case this a.m., no pair of seats will be totally open, and there begins the dilemma. If I choose not to choose & to stand instead, it will not go unnoticed -- when I watch people choose not to choose & to stand instead, I always wonder, "What's wrong with me that you don't want to sit next to me?" before, of course, relishing my space.

Anyways, the dilemma. For obvious reasons, I am wary of sitting next to the Sketchy-Looking Middle-Aged Man, the one who hasn't leered at me yet but can be guaranteed to re-situate after my arrival to ensure that his grey-haired arm brushes mine in the most inescapable of sitting positions.

I am equally hesitant to sit next to the Obese Woman Who Needs 1.5 Seats. She looks friendly, yes, & in theory is probably a safe bet, but the truth is that no matter how rockin' my bod may be, my ass is simply too large to fit in the half a seat this woman's presence has provided me with. I swallow a bubble of guilt -- she knows why no one's sitting there yet -- & move along.

I'd sit next to the Friendly Indie High Schooler, he of the floppy hair, welcoming smile & H&M scarf, but somehow it makes me feel like a creep. Although I'm a fan of the Ting Tings album emitting loudly from his iPod Touch, it seems somehow pedophiliac of me to opt for the seat next to a teen when every other option would place me next to a real person... er... legal adult.

I hesitate to sit next to others, too: Questionably Sane Man Muttering to Himself, Sleeping Guy At Risk of Drooling on My Knees, Shopper Toting Entirely Too Many Bloomingdale's Bags, Zealot Highlighting Biblical Passages...

I repeat: decisions, decisions. In the end, I chose the Friendly Indie High Schooler, primarily for the soundtrack that came with him.

A Fun New Game at My Expense! Created By... Me.

2008-06-29T14:47:00.011-04:00

I visited the brand, spankin' new Newseum on Friday with coworkers/friends, where we began a new game, one that I suspect will be ongoing despite its somewhat depressing undertones in relations to my living quarters. The game, "Things That Are Bigger Than Kate's Apartment," is a bit of a spin on "Things Younger Than John McCain," the trendy, questionably humorous ageism blog. Trust me, my game is just as fun!

Round One: Things That Are Bigger Than Kate's Apartment:

#1: Unabomber Theodore Kasczynski's remote cabin in the woods of Montana

#2: The Newseum's three impressive hydraulic glass elevators

City Musings (from your Suburban Sweetheart)