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April 15 is tax day for most of us here in the U.S., but for my WH, it means a lot more. Twelve years ago today, he arrived here from Iran. He told me this story: When I found out I was getting a green card, I didn't know what would happen. I had to wait to find out when my appointment at the U.S. Embassy would be. They tell you they’ll send you a letter to tell you your package has arrived, and when your interview would be, but I didn't trust it. I used to call the U.S. Embassy in Ankara every day to find out if my package had arrived. And I’m so glad I did, because I never received a letter. The last time I called, they told me that my package had arrived and that my appointment was set. Then I went to Turkey. I had lived there 10 years earlier for a year, hoping for a Humanitarian Parole visa and I didn't get it, but my memories in Turkey were still good memories. Ten years later I went back to get my green card and stayed in the sa...
There are few things that bring Washingtonians more glee that heaping insults upon the much-maligned Washington Metropolitan Area Transit Authority ( WMATA ). I've certainly done my fair share of it. Today's as good as any, too, with temperatures soaring into the triple digits and the " heat kink " causing delays on Red Line tracks. Needless to say, rush hour commutes were snarled with long waits on overheated platforms. And what better way to keep yourself entertained than by playing along to a snarky little WMATA Drinking Game*? My friend the Policy Lawyer and I came up with this little gem over the course of a few days last week. See if you can find your favorite Metro faux pas listed below: One drink for tourists who stand on the left of the escalator; two drinks for escalator disruptions; and finish your drink if the escalator stops while you're on it. One drink for someone singing; two if they're not wearing headphones. ...
Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened. --Dr. Seuss Sometimes it's hard to believe how fast time passes. I don't really feel any older. High school feels like yesterday . . . when in reality, I graduated almost 18 years ago. I was reminded of the passage of time today when I saw a friend's Facebook post remembering one of our teachers. Mr. Campbell died 17 years ago today, and yet it feels like it just happened. Mr. Campbell was one of a kind. He taught sociology in a way that was so far ahead of its time. He always treated us like adu...