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Showing posts from March, 2011

Not-So-Fine Dining

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I love the news. And I hate the news. I like to know what's going on in the world, from politics to world news to celebrity garbage, I want to know it all -- even though it alternately makes me laugh and despair for society.  So imagine my surprise when I was sent this story by my friend the Policy Lawyer earlier today.  Something ridiculous that I had not seen!  And on one of my favorite topics, too, public transportation !  Complete with video! I especially like the part where the Spaghetti Eater gets up to fight, but doesn't stop eating her spaghetti (I'd like to know where she got it, that it was so good she just couldn't wait till the fight was over for her victory meal.  And while we're at it, I also wonder where they were going that there was a full three minutes and 52 seconds between stops).  The article goes on to discuss etiquette on the subway . . . which is something I know all too well. My favorite part of the article is the description of the vid

I Really Stepped In It

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Last week my mom sent me an email with the subject line "Poop."  This isn't particularly odd, considering the sense of humor in our family .  I opened the email to see this video: Sure, it was funny, but the point was, as my mother pointed out later when she posted the video to her Facebook page, that it was a "WashingTina moment."   I had forgotten about it until yesterday when I saw this article in The Washington Post .  And that got me thinking about poop and something that happened to me in elementary school. I was in the third grade and it was a spring afternoon.  The weather had gotten nice, and I was wearing a pair of white sandals that went with my outfit.  We were having story time (or whatever it was called) in the afternoon, sitting in a circle, listening to our teacher read us a story.  And I had to go.  I asked the teacher, got the pass, and slipped out the door.  The girl's bathroom was maybe three or four doors down the hall.  As I pus

Let's Be Reasonable

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This week's spring weather prompted us to open the windows in our condo.  Yesterday, WH was in the kitchen opening the windows when he asked me if I had read the warning on our screen.  I hadn't -- in fact, I hadn't even noticed that there was a warning. This is what it said:   WARNING: SCREEN WILL NOT STOP OBJECTS/PERSONS FROM FALLING THRU WINDOW. SCREENS ARE DESIGNED FOR REASONABLE INSECT CONTROL. DO NOT REMOVE THIS LABEL.   He wasn't so concerned with the poor bastard falling from the window (who, incidentally, looks like he's had a run in with Batman -- POW!).  It was the "reasonable insect" that got him.  He was really incensed about it. WH: What is an unreasonable insect? Is it judged by size? Or is judged by aggression? Either way, it seems like whatever they expect it to be, it can go through the metal screen.  WT:  I guess so. WH:  And what is a reasonable insect?  Is it reasonable because you can reason with it?  &

To Tweet, Or Not To Tweet

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I have a lot of friends who don't use Twitter, let alone understand what it is or how to use it.  I even have a few Facebook holdouts that have yet to buddy up.  And that's okay . . . it's simly not for them -- and maybe it's not for you.  For those not in the know, Twitter has been used for all kinds of cool stuff, including online discussions, networking, self promotion (hello, Charlie Sheen ), and even organizing protests (human rights blogger and online activist Wael Abbas  used it to communicate about conditions in Egypt during the recent protests).  It can also be used for charity.  Wondering how?  Read on.  Next week marks the D.C. Twestival . . . a Twitter festival (get it?!?).  My friend Ms. Rasberry is on the planning committee, and asked if I'd do a little publicity for it.  Here's how it works, in her words: It’s an event that is designed to utilize social media in order to raise awareness and funds for charitable organizations. This year’s DC

It's A Small World

I've said before how D.C. is a bit of a small town.  It's a fact that I'm reminded of on a regular basis.  I run into people I know all the time -- at least once a week.  It's not often, though, that it's someone I haven't seen in nearly 20 years.  Certainly the advent of Facebook has made chance encounters after years of seperation a thing of the past, but there are always those people who aren't on Facebook or you can't seem to find online.  A couple of weeks ago, I was leaving the ladies room at my office (my organization shares its space with another larger organization) and saw a strangely familiar face.  But it couldn't be could it?  It quickly left my mind until later the next day when I was looking up an email address for one of the folks with whom we share our office.  A name on the list was the name of the person I thought I had seen.  Still, there's no way, was there?  A quick look online at LinkedIn, and I was certain it had to be

Search and Recovery

It's been awhile since I've blogged.  This is a great disappointment to me.  Part of this stems from good old fashioned Catholic Guilt, and another part stems from the fact that I always got "that speech" when I didn't do my homework.  You know the one -- "We're so disappointed in you.  We know you can do better. Why would you wait until the last minute?"  And so on.  I can hear it every day that I don't blog and I flash back to elementary school.  When I was in third grade, after having to miss recess who-knows-how-many times for not getting my work done, I was diagnosed with a learning disability.  When told I would have to go to special classes, I vowed to my parents that I was quitting school.  Fortunately my parents decided not to indulge an eight-year-old drop-out, and I went to the classes in the afternoons a few times a week to work on my motor skills.  This consisted of stringing beads -- in fact, we often would "race" to see