WashingTina

Election Day is coming. Ever since I was a little kid, I have loved Election Day. (Full disclosure, my birthday is in early November, so Election Day also means birthday parties!) When my mom and dad would go to the polls, housed at my elementary school, they would go do their voting thing and my sister and I would get to fill out a fake ballot (all the candidates were named after flowers) ourselves. I always voted for Mr. Chrysanthemum. Photo Courtesy of aperte via Flickr As a kid, it was something fun to do, but in retrospect, it was a great way to teach us about voting and the process. Not that I needed that lesson.  My family has always been civically responsible.  In fact, by the time I was in high school, my mother was a local elected official, and I spent Election Day working the polls on her behalf.  I can honestly say, I have a great appreciation for the political process (vitriol and mudslinging aside).  I remember standing, from early morning till n...

WH has been on a roll lately.  Tonight he came up with a plan for us to get rich.  It's elaborate and ridiculous, but it just might work (except that I'm about to blow our cover right here).  WH: I figured out the best way we can get fast cash. WT:  Really?  How? WH:  Jared from Subway is training for the marathon.  So you drive the van slowly.  I'll grab him from the side of the street while he's running and chloroform him.* WT:  Okay. WH:  And then what we do is pull up his shirt and take a picture of all of his stomach staples and scars from the surgery from his tuck.  WT:  Why? WH:  We contact Subway and tell them that unless they give us $5 million, the pictures will be sent to Quiznos headquarters.  I'm sure they'll know what to do with it.  It has to be a reasonable amount.  Five million is enough for us and it's not enough that Subway will fight over it.  They'll pay...

Wonderful Husband must be getting in the mood for Halloween, because the conversation we just had could only come from an overload of horror movies.  And we already know he's had deep thoughts about zombies . But tonight, tonight is something special.  It went something like this: WH: I've been thinking about vampires.  If they're on a liquid diet, drinking blood, don't you think they would have diarrhea a lot? WT: Uh . . . WH:  And why, in any vampire movie, does Dracula or anybody always have a nice dining table?  Because, it seems to me, that the only thing they need is a little juice bar.  Not even a refrigerator. WT: Oh. WH: I guess they could have nice wine glasses, but no plates. WT: Maybe. WH:  At least werewolves eat like humans, and then once a month when the moon is full, they eat rare meat.  As a human the next day, though, the guy probably has an upset stomach because too much meat is not agreeing with him. WT: Ye...

I started physical therapy this week for a neck injury sustained ten years ago.  This got me thinking about how I ended up there and all of the delights along the way.  My sister and I were Christmas shopping in late 2000, when some kid on a cellphone ran a stop sign (more on that here ), causing the crash that injured me.  Flash forward ten months and I'm getting surgery on my neck.  For months I had been complaining to my doctor that I couldn't feel my left hand.  My fingers "played piano" of their own accord.  And I was repeatedly assured it was "just muscle spasms." I was only 25.  Finally I was able to convince him that it wasn't just a muscle spasm, so he sent me for an MRI.  If you've never had one, let me tell you, it's a special kind of hell.  I was "secured" to a sliding table, my head locked down in this weird cage thing.  Then they slide you into the MRI, which is what I imagine being locked in a dryer might be like.  ...

We are under seige.  Attack. Invasion.  Choose your ominous word.  It doesn't really matter what you call it.  What matters is that it's happening.  Stink bugs have taken over the Washington area with a vengeance. I know what you're thinking: it's just a little bug.  And you're right.  One is just a bug.  But what we've got is a mafia.    Image by jcantroot via Flickr  The Washington Post ran a story a couple of weeks ago that was informative and humorous (at least to me).  The story referenced the smell (sweaty feet--though I disagree, more below), ways for homeowners to remove them (suck 'em up in the vacuum), the Brown Marmorated Stink Bug Working Group (really), and Congressional action: Rep. Roscoe Bartlett, a Republican who represents Maryland's rural 6th District, sent a letter Friday, signed by 15 members of Congress, asking U.S. Agriculture Secretary Tom Vilsack and Environmental Protection Agency Administrator Lis...

My friend Karen is something of a hero to me.  She was radiant.  She was laugh-till-you-cry funny.  She was full of life.  She was a mother.  She was an actor.  She was a warrior.  She was a sister. She was a daughter. She was a friend.  And she had breast cancer.  But never once did breast cancer have her.  Even when the cancer was at its worst, her indomitable spirit and zest always shone through.  When I first me Karen, we were both playing the same part on alternating nights in this ridiculous dinner theater play.  I wasn't sure we would get along.  I couldn't have been more wrong.  We connected instantly, and when we finally had the opportunity to play different roles opposite each other (she as the evil diva and I as the drunken mess), it was magic.  "I always felt so bad having to be so mean to you, but it really was fun to be so deliciously evil," she would say with a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin (she h...