WashingTina

We commuters are a diverse bunch.  Most of us are completely benign and totally boring.  But, there are those select few who stand out.  Anyone who rides Metro or the bus knows what I'm talking about.  I've already discussed the famous Seat Hog , the Loud Cellphone Talker , the Sick Passenger , the Transit Groomers , and the Aisle Surfer , to name a few.  A quick survey of my fellow travelers (via Twitter*) and a pretty good list of Metro-types came about.  Please allow me to expand on these below. The Snoozer : fairly self-explanatory, this is the passenger who sleeps as if they're at home cuddled up on their memory foam mattress rather than jammed into a slow-moving commuter train.  I always marvel at these people and their peaceful slumber.  Sleep on the train? I'd be afraid of what might happen to me . . . my luck and I'd end up in Rockville wearing nothing but my sneakers.  A special subset of this group are those that have their mouth...

Today I got some sad news.  Now, it might not be sad to anyone else, but it's sad to me.  Turns out Cher is ending her Las Vegas show on Feb. 5.  And I have not been to see it yet.  You see, I love Cher.  A lot.  Sure, I realize there are much cooler stars to be in love with.  I could swoon over that Bieber kid, but he doesn't have quite the way with wigs that Cher does.  Yeah, I could worship Lady Gaga, but Cher's got bodysuits older than her.  And say what you will about her, but Cher is a survivor.  I've been known to watch the full two-hour long Biography on her and get misty throughout.  One of the first records (yeah, a record) I had was "I Got You Babe," from my dad's collection of discarded 45s.  She is a force to be reckoned with and is constantly reinventing herself. I could wax poetic about her for paragraph upon paragraph, but that's not really the purpose of this story.  Back in 2003, before I really ...

This weekend while WH and I were out, we met some strangers (as we are oft to do--though not as frequently since Timberlake's closed).  Turns out the couple was on a blind date and, while they were both nice people, not particularly into each other.  This isn't really a particularly interesting point of fact, other than that it serves as a segue to something greater.  The guy introduced himself as "Vic," which is what leads me to the other story.  Years ago, in the sweet bloom of youth, I lived in New York for a year with a girl who quite possibly amounted to the biggest nutbag on the planet.  (Yes, I realize this is a D.C.-centric blog, but the story begins here and, frankly, it's just too good not to tell.)  We met in D.C. when we were both taking improv acting classes and cultivating dreams (delusions) of fame and fortune.  We had a friendship of sorts, which included our mutual love of going dancing.  There were red flags all alon...

Last night WH and I went to happy hour with another couple, our friends the Foodies.  I was invited, along with Foodie Girl and Foodie Boy, for free food and drinks, and WH was along for the ride.  The night started off normal enough, but devolved when, somehow, the conversation turned to the apocalypse (which may or may not include zombies).  While FB and I sat there listening (and I took notes), WH and FG discussed their survival plans.  It started like this*: Wonderful Husband: The way I see it, the earth is a living thing. Foodie Girl: Yeah, and it's pissed. WH:  Exactly, and it cleans itself. FG: It's douching! Yes, this really happened.  I kind of wonder what the people at other tables were thinking (if they were listening . . . and I would've been listening, because it was good free entertainment).  And on it went: FG: You know those flashlights that you wind up?  I have three of them. WH: Yeah, we gotta get some of those. FG...

Wonderful Husband and I celebrated our second anniversary yesterday, which got me thinking about all the details of our wedding and the planning that went into it.  I know some brides who've had some real ups and downs when it's come to wedding planning, and I'm sure we had our fair share, but those aren't particularly interesting (at least not for comedic purposes).  What was interesting about our pre-wedding activities was the quest for my wedding band.  If it hadn't happened to me, I would never have believed it.  It all started with my brilliant idea to use my great-grandmother's and grandmother's diamonds to have my ring made rather than going with a ready-made ring. I had inherited the diamonds from my grandmother years ago and really wanted the sentimental aspect for my ring.  I had a design in mind, and set about finding a reasonably priced jeweler who could do what I needed.  A good friend of mine, the Other Bride, who was also getting...

Have you ever gotten a wild hair and refused to let up? I had an experience like this a couple of weeks ago.  I had run out of  my makeup and needed to replenish it.  Since I work right next to a CVS, the replishment should've been easy (yeah, I wear drug store makeup, what of it?). Only that CVS no longer carries Almay. Half a block later, I was at the other CVS near my office, only to learn that they were out of the makeup in question. That was in the morning. I went to my office, naked faced and on a mission.  At lunch you will be mine, I vowed to the makeup. After looking up the other CVS locations within several blocks of my office, it was discovered that there were four more besides the two I had already checked.  Phew! We wouldn't want the people of downtown D.C. go without their prescriptions, haircare products, and pantyhose.  My goal in sight, I set out for the first of the CVS Stores in question.  I headed down K Street to what I hope...