This is so AWESOME, it's SICK!

When I found this data graph for DC's awesome Capital BikeShare, I became nearly giddy.  I've been playing with it for the last hour or so, and I'm like a kid in a candy store.  My heart is aflutter - for real! All my favorite things!  I love metrics.  I love cities.  I love interactive real time data.  I love bikes, and more so bike shares.  I love CaBi. so proud to be one of the founding members (as one of the first 2,000 members with a free t-shirt and commemorative keyfob....(geekster grin: Geek + Hipster = Geekster!)).  I love public transport, and more so if it's extra-green and innovative public transport.

Here's the link again...now let's play!  So much data depicted on first click.  First, the overall view of the CaBi program is the homescreen.  Larger circles denote larger stations with more bike docks.  The color of the circles show how full/empty the docks are - blue is emptier, deep red is an completley full station.  The graph is realtime, and the lower right hand corner gives usage stats.  Right now, pretty late on a Thursday evening, use is a low, sleepy 3%.  The max simultaneous usage for today was 173 bikes, in use, or a respectable 20% of all available bikes in use (more about this later).  That lower right hand info box has some pretty cool extra features.  You can show or hide a ticker which tells you bikes going in and out of station realtime.  It also shows usage and distribution imbalance datagraphs for the day.  Around 5pm, today the fewest bikes were in docks - or conversely, the most were in use.

Even more fun...there is an animation button where we can see those station circles go from blue to red and back again in a neato timelapse run.  See how, people head downtown, and then back to residential districts over the course of a day.  Sounds like a commuter city, until you realize this is by bikes, not crawling on the Beltway!  Mixed-use zones - shopping/residential/business like Dupont Circle and Capitol Hill get used all day.

Then, there's a little thrill ride here...Click on a station, and see it's dock stats for the last 24-hour period - the peaks and valleys of rush hour, the sharp zig-zags of frequent use.  For example, 16th and U has a precipitous drop from totally full to totally empty during the morning rush hour, as this high-density, young, urban hipster neighborhood heads out to work, presumably downhill towards downtown.  The Union Station dock does the same, with an opposite effect - all the bikes are taken from this busy transit hub around 6pm and dispersed to other docks within the nearby residential neighborhood.  One of my local stations at 14th and D Streets SE gets decent use throughout the day, but by 9pm, it's docks are full.  This matches my recent experience, when one evening, I grabbed a CaBi bike from the pool toward home, and found no docks at this station.  I had to ride a few blocks farther, though not too much off my path, to return my bike to a different station.  And Eastern Market (8th and Penn SE) and Dupont Circle stations get a fair amount of usage throughout the day.

And that awesome little addictive live data set led me to the supra-awesome blog Suprageography: I see data, I make maps that covers bikeshare data stats for several urban bikeshare programs around the world.  WOW!  I totally [HEART] that Oliver guy!  He recently posted about a big day for bikesharing - Easter Sunday - where he notes there was HUGE usage in DC (in the #1 ranking), Miami, and London - all soaring above 35% simultaneous bikes in use.  In DC 37% of our 872 bikes were in use at about 4 in the afternoon (I'm reasonably sure I had a bike out about that time).  He notes that usage rates above 30% stress the system, and it is difficult to find a bike in many places.  His table shows that not only is DC an amazing bikesharing city, but we have a relatively large program with our almost 900 books, especially with the relative size of our population compared to some of the other bikesharing cities - like London and Mexico City.  And, as he kindly points out so I don't have to be all puffy about it, America is beating Europe!


Yay, CaBi!  Yay DC!  I could eat this stuff all day.  

You know it's a bad date when...

...when he keeps twisting your words to prove his belief that women are bitches
...when you begin to wish you followed him to the bar to order the drinks, in case he slipped in a "roofie"
...when you realize that it is time to clearly, definitively, and immediately extract yourself, and are scheming how to do so without pissing him off
...when you begin to go over the information you shared to figure out if it is enough for him to find you at work or home
...when you look over your shoulder constantly all the way to the metro to make sure he's not following you
...when you leave a voicemail and email yourself with the details of what you know about him, where you met, and what you experienced to help out the investigation just in case you end up dead somewhere
...when you get home you double lock the door, and set the alarm

Yikes, that was freaky!

Sunday Morning

Pancakes 

-with real Vermont maple syrup

Canadian Bacon

Fruits Exotiques

- pineapple, banana, kiwi with honey lime dressing

Juice 
& fresh-brewed French Roast coffee

The Red and the Black (The blog post in which La Nouvelle Observatrice lets on to the whole wide world just how soccer-ignorant she is)

Ok, maybe soccer-ignorant isn't the word, but soccer-shallow (sadly) for sure. Tonight I went with M to the DC United vs LA Galaxy match over at RFK Stadium. The stadium is just a few minutes walk from my house, about 5 blocks, and yet in my eight years living here, I've never, ever been to a game. Tonight, I finally made it, and I'm sure it will not be another 8 before the next time. We had a blast. Still, my commentary is limited. Here are some of my observations:

RFK is a dump. Seriously, it is a shabby, dilapidated building, with weird stains and strange molds hanging from the structure. There is broken concrete and open, messy wiring. Seats are not well-marked. No one gives a damn. Maybe one day, they'll get a dedicated soccer stadium - too bad the whole country is broke.

The vending in our section sucked. No real fridges, just coolers full of ice and blue Gatorade with the labels slipping off.  It was cash-only, which always pisses me off. M and I got beer - lukewarm and pissy.

The hooligans...er...supporters' clubs... are pretty cool.  Barra Brava is hardcore. Their huge red and black flags, chants and drums are larger than life, and thumpin'. That, my dears, is fandom. They roar and jump and their whole section bounces. The whole stadium vibrates, in fact. A little scary. Is this place structurally sound? Anyway, they're fun to watch, but I'm too old for that.

The regular old fans are an interesting mix. The suburban families, the college (once-college) players, the Euro-urban sports fan elite, the entire Central American population of the greater DC Metro area. The guys in our section were pretty much from the latter group. If I heard "mierda...puta" one more time...

David Beckham (LA Galaxy), like me, is also getting old, but he was there and he played well. At one point there was a big smash-up where two players seemed to smack right into each others' faces. I remember thinking 'Ouch!'.... That, and that would never happen to Beckham. He's a good, hard player and all, but can't really afford to mess up his handsome, chiseled face. Landon Donavan (also LA Galaxy) didn't play. Apparently, he's busy, tired and his knee hurts, and he didn't travel out with the team. I don't recall the name of a single DCUnited player.

Oh yes, I do...Charlie Davies, who scored DCUnited's only goal with a penalty kick which tied the game's final score  of 1-1. That was good. M told me he was in some horrific car accident sometime last year, and is just playing again now.

I bought a DC United fan scarf. It's red and black with DC United and  Addidas logos knitted in.  It's reversible - black side with red or red side with black. I've always wanted one of those scarves.

Really, I should do this sports reporting more often...

A blogging tear

I seem to be on a blogging tear here...:-)  Did you notice? ;-)

I'm just so happy to have a normal weekend.  Five of the last six weekends have been taken up by travel for work and for play - to Philadelphia, Guatemala, Disney World, Philadelphia (2), and Portland.  I forget what kind of toll that takes, until I'm finally sitting down again on a lazy Saturday at home.  Laundry, blogging, cleaning, cooking, a walk and cultural fair with Dear Daughter, seeing friends, and a swim.  And my mind is quiet and happy, my thoughts take a leisurely stroll around my head.  Time to relax, time to reflect.  And a little blogging.  Oh, little blog, how I've missed you.  xo.

Portland, Oregon

During my recent business trip to Portland, Oregon, I especially loved my visit to the Mercy Corps offices. These new digs for the $200m international development and relief non-profit are just incredible. The LEED Platinum design is so inspiring. I especially loved this central staircase in the middle of the building. A central lightwell fills the space fills the atrium and surrounding offices with natural sunlight. And it's inviting views, central mid-air bridge, and easy access invite one to choose the stairs (A small elevator was tucked away in a corner). It's frame was a brushed steel, warmed by reclaimed wooden planks. Just gorgeous.  

Fruit Bat, H St. NE

Outside the window, one Wednesday evening in the spring

W

Professional Urban Grrl's No-Sweat Triathalon

Sportswear: Black leggings, black wool tunic sweater, black ballet flats, teal double-breasted spring trench (Pool: black swimsuit, black swim cap, pink goggles)
Getting to the starting line:  Leave work in taxi with colleague for an in-transit meeting.


Start:  Union Station

1st Leg (Walk) - Walk and talk with colleague heading north on North Capitol Street, part company at H Street.  Hang a right.  Cross bridge over train tracks.  Admire spring day - low humidity, temperature in the low-seventies, late daylight (it's already six-thirty! and the light gives everything a spring-pink glow).  Arrive on the other side of tracks - H Street NE, the edgy in-neighborhood with bars, restaurants, and coffee shops, with a hip-hop-city-punk-funk vibe. Recall the previous evening in one such establishment with friends and drinks.  Make note to self to hang out there more, and check out some of the new places.

2nd Leg (Bike) - Grab a Capital Bikeshare bicycle.  Place black work bag on the front carrier, and secure with neato fitted bungee cord.  Unbutton trench coat for ease of moment, and for cool teal trailing effect while riding.  Board bike, and head south on 4th Street NE past lovely, historic, restored rowhouses.  Note buds on trees giving a light fuzzy green-  or sometimes rose-, colored  glow of their early leaves.  Note beautiful spring gardens in postage-stamp front yards - tulips, daffodils, and blazing yellow forsythia.  Zig-zag through the neighborhood streets towards Eastern Market - going past more lovely house, small city parks full of dogs, kids, and friendly neighbors cavorting in the early evening, brought together by their shared community and the pleasant spring evening.  Arrive at Eastern Market, and park bike in the CaBI bike dock.

Pit Stop -  Enter Marvelous Market for a bottle of water and pack of soy nuts.  Sit outside on the french cafe chairs.  Check iPhone for messages.  Greet and chat with neighbor MS.

3rd Leg (Swim) - Enter public pool facility, and change into swimwear.  Shower quickly, and enter pool for 30 minutes of laps.  Breathe in, breathe out.  Let head roll out its day.  Marvel in the head-clearing power of exercise.   Chat with lanemate about water temperature - a tad cooler than lately.  Exit pool, shower, change.

Homeward Bound - Grab a CaBi bike for the short ride to the next docking station.  Walk remaining three blocks.

Finish: Home. Greet Dear Daughter, read books, snuggle, and wish sweet dreams.

Spring training never felt so good.

That's NOT what I asked for....

I'm in a particularly irritable mood.  Today when paying for my lunch, I asked the cashier to add a Diet Coke to my order, and pointed to the fridge stocked with soda cans.  On my way out, I went to grab my soda.

But there was only caffiene-free Diet Coke.  When I asked about it, I was told they were out of Diet Coke.  I looked at the options - Coca-Cola and Sprite Zero.  Neither would do.  I want the caffeine of the Coca-Cola and the sugar-free, no calories of the Sprite Zero in my cold, lunchtime fizzy drink.

I left quite grouchy with a Sprite Zero.  I really shouldn't be this annoyed.

The Secret (a poem by Denise Levertov)

The Secret
by Denise Levertov
Two girls discover the secret of life in a sudden line of poetry. I who don't know the secret wrote the line. They told me (through a third person) they had found it but not what it was not even what line it was. No doubt by now, more than a week later, they have forgotten the secret, the line, the name of the poem. I love them for finding what I can't find, and for loving me for the line I wrote, and for forgetting it so that a thousand times, till death finds them, they may discover it again, in other lines in other happenings. And for wanting to know it, for assuming there is such a secret, yes, for that most of all.

Still kickin'

Oui, oui..I'm still here, and all is well.  Life is good, in fact...very good.

1.  In the most significant change, I have a new boss.  She is phenomenal - so good, and so different from my last years of difficult boss relations, it's like having a new job.  My daily stress and tension are gone.  People say my face is more relaxed.  When I took my swim the other day, I had nothing - that's right nothing to work through.  I've learned so much from her in just over a month, and I'm glad I stuck it out, just to have the chance to have a new model, a new mentor - way more akin to my natural style.  We travelled together in Guatemala for 5 days - that's a lot of travel time - and still I have nothing but respect.  I think she's so cool, in fact, I'm a little afraid that I will consciously or sub-consciously go out and buy her same watch, her same shoes, her same notebook...and that might be a little creepy.  We actually are eerily similar already in terms of taste and mannerisms.

The rest is not change, as much as a nice lot of good stuff.

2.  I'm swimming regularly again, after along stretch of sick and tired...or busy...or traveling.  My swims are wonderful.

3.  I have great friends, and lately, I've gotten to see them more regularly.  We go out for drinks, for dinner, for walks...and each time, I leave with a sense of contentment.  On a not-so-content note, two of these friends will soon no longer be part of my DC fabric.  Dear Friend A accepted a government contract, and will soon ship overseas.  Dear Friend M is preparing to move to Bangkok.  Over the last few years, I've lost quite a few good friends from my daily local life.  First, C and family moved to Tanzania, where they have rooted - even had their third child - over the last two years.  And of course, great friend L moved first to Beijing, then to Paris.  Oh, how I miss their presence in my life.  I have, however, met my first new, real friend in years.  This friend M and I hang out, and chit-chat for hours.  And while we're both busy as professional, working, and more-or-less single moms - it almost makes  pursuing a friendship in hectic times easier, or at least more forgiving.

4.  My daughter is healthy, thriving, growing and so cool.  Not only is she great...but there is no new school for several years on the horizon, no new childcare plans, and we are not moving houses anytime soon.

5.  It's spring, and I love, love, love cherry blossoms.  I'm so not immune to their potion-spinning gorgeousness.

And so it goes...I'm lucky, and happy, and at peace....and I appreciate even this patch of smooth air.

(Practically) free to a good home

On Saturday, we held a yard sale.  It was a brisk, early spring morning - a bit too early spring for a yard sale, and a bit too early morning for me, but the urge to de-clutter Right Now cannot be denied, and no other free weekend presented itself anytime soon.  It wasn't about the money or the stuff.  It was mostly about getting the stuff out to people who will enjoy it for a while, and throwing in a little lesson for Dear Daughter about entrepreneurship and counting change.  The morning yielded a bit over $100, and a whole lot less stuff - the rest went to Good Will this morning.  Yard sales are a win-win.  I'm free of stuff and clutter. I feel so enterprising. And most of all, some nice new and people now have my treasures in their good homes.

There was the Early Bird mom who got here around 8:30.  From Utah, she and family are staying temporarily on Capitol Hill in a furnished, but lacking-in-character, home.  Presumably on a Mormon mission, she said she had kids of "varying ages."  The Early Bird did indeed get the worm...errrr...some of the best goods -  a kids dominoes set and a memory game, a clock puzzle, a doctor kit, and some books.

A young woman and her Spaniard boyfriend in his Real Madrid shirt purchased a set of four crisp white porcelain cups and saucers in which I imagine they will enjoy some  strong coffee on late weekend afternoons. A young Urban Greenster couple biked over - she sporting her "Stop Greed" pin on her tweed-y jacket - bought four russet-colored woven placemats, four cloth napkins in tones of green and brown, and an ecru-colored pottery serving bowl with a deep blue abstract bird design.  A gorgeous combination! -  wish I had thought of it myself -  and sure to be a hit at their next vegetarian potluck dinner party.

Two African-American women in their 50's came to admire my collections of African textiles - batik-ed table cloths, woven mats, brightly printed cloth, and gauzy scarves.  They bought almost all of it plus an ugly mint-green bathroom rug -  and since they came late in the morning, they filled several bags of such treasure for $10.

Another young couple arrived on their bikes.  He had a scraggly reddish beard and olive green jacket, and asked me about my Peace Corps days.  She told me she was of Vietnamese descent, and bought a children's book in English and Vietnamese about a frog and an umbrella - she said it was "for someday."  They are just at the beginning of their couplehood.  They also bought three African cookbooks - that frankly have a lot of repeat recipes, and from which I've cooked less than a handful of meals over two handfuls of years.  I hope those books get some cook-stained memories at last.

An older African-American man, his feet swollen from diabetes or hypertension, shuffled off with my swivel office chair that lost its back a few months ago.  While a white-haired white guy, bought my Africa tome - historical and political essays.  I asked for a dollar, but he gave me two.

A few other people bought a few other things, each one sauntering off with her find..."at such a good price." And I'm doing some sauntering myself - a little richer, a little less encumbered, and very pleased that some of my good stuff found good homes.

Sex Ed

I'm not that much in the mood to write, but this is Important (and important to me)...

Last night's Glee episode (like most TV, I just read about it the next day, and then watch selected clips on the Internet) was the Sex Episode.  High school angst, high school sex - from sex education class to the Abstinence Club and the Gay-Straight Alliance, both found in today's high schools - but it's still the same old-fashioned, age-old teen angst.  And parents matter...a lot.  Perhaps the most touching, most compelling, most reach-inside-and-touch-your-soul scene was when Kurt, gay teen, and his dad have The Talk.

Wow...I hope you viewed that link.  I strongly believe in having comprehensive sex education in schools.  And I strongly believe that good (or bad) parenting makes the greatest difference in kids lives.  And somehow, this scene demonstrates all that for me.

I LOVE sex.  It feels so GOOD.  It's SO fun.  It's so easy.  But it's big, and it's more than all that.  There are health risks - some lasting.  And there are life-altering consequences, like pregnancy.  And these are wonderfully prevented and mitigated by birth control, condoms, and bit of honest discussion and some negotiation.  But at its best, and at its worse, it's about connection (or lack of it) and vulnerability (despite the fact that an orgasm can make you feel utterly invincible).  It's what it is to you, but also what it is to the other person - and figuring that out somehow for both of you, honestly.  And yes, sex does something to you - "..to your heart.  To your self-esteem...So don't throw yourself around like you don't matter.  Because you do matter"

No sentiment more true and more beautiful, about something so true, so beautiful.

Mommy Track

I am a working mom to a wonderful 6 year-old daughter.  My job is demanding - in responsibility, in scope, and in hours.  My typical business trips are to New York, London, Mumbai, South Africa, Geneva, and Silicon Valley.  I often work with heavy hitters from the business, non-profit, and philanthropy sectors.  You might recognize some of their names - they appear in some of your major media outlets, or at the very least are highly Google-able.  I absolutely love my work.

But recently, I think I have come face-to-face with the limits of my ambition.  Travel is not nearly as attractive as it once was.  I am equally tempted by staying home.  In the last few weeks, I've been approached by some executive search firms for a few stunning opportunities.  One, in particular, based in London, was especially tempting.  But after a lovely lunch and talk with Dear Headhunter, I decided not to pursue it.  No one is more shocked than I am.  I have always, always wanted to live and work in Europe.  This job, in particular, was a dream. But ultimately, I realized, I do not want to travel more, or work longer hours, or be farther away from my family and support network of friends and routines.  Most of all, I did not want to give up precious time with my daughter or outsource my Mom responsibilities anymore than I already do.  I've Mommy-Tracked myself.

It's an unusual Mommy Track, to be sure.  I have not quit my job to stay at home (I couldn't anyway - no one else around here makes an income).  I did not cut back on my hours or shift positions.  I remain a pretty plugged-in, high-powered, intense-as-ever professional - and I intend to keep it that way.  I still have goals and dreams, including somehow, one day to perhaps live again in a great European city, even for a short time.  But at this time, these hopes, dreams, and ambitions have run smack into to my desire to be a mom - and recently, right here, for now, perhaps forever -  I chose the Mommy Track.

Quetzal (Patzicia, Guatemala)

Not my usual fluff and fold (mature audiences only)

Today I heard a woman yelling for her life. She was drowning in a pile of trash at the Zona 3 Guatemala City dump. I was walking along the embankment, some precarious twists and turns, steep gravelly inclines, and death defying drops to the dump, which lies in the ravine of an old river. We were walking within the small shantytown of impermanent shelters made of corrugated metal and cardboard boxes where families live, eat, sleep, laugh and make love (or sometimes just have sex, or sometimes just suffer sexual abuse and molestation). These people live in extreme poverty. The way they make money is by picking, sorting, and salvaging pieces of junk within mountains of trash at the dump. Some people call them recyclers, a more dignified way to name their toil. But the truth is picking through the small pieces of salvaged metal sold for pennies hardly seems like dignity.

As we walked, we heard shouts for help. "Que paso?" we yelled down into the ravine. And as she shouted her predicament, her voice trembling with fear, we called for help. Some piles of trash float on top of water, and it is hard to distinguish between the trash piles on sold ground, and the floating ones that act more like quicksand, pulling one under the filth. She had begun to be pulled under, in imminent danger of drowning and being buried alive by trash. It makes me shudder.

Our colleagues ushered us out of the way, while some young men half-ran, half bounded down the steep hillside to go and save her. She was pulled to safety by several of these men and a rope. A few minutes later the bomberos that had been called were running down the hillside to help, and check her for injuries. I later learned that this woman, was a member of the Health and Safety Committee of these informally organized collective of wastepickers. She goes house to house, talking about the dangers of the dump, and practices for better safety - like working in groups of 2 or 3 in case of mishaps. But her husband had recently died; she had six kids. She was desperate. Extreme poverty drives one to desperation for survival which leads to horrific unimaginable choices. 

This story is no exaggeration In this very same dump in 2008, a trash avalanche buried 40 wastepickers. Their bodies were not recovered, many of their names were not documented. This disaster orphaned several many children, including a family of six siblings living in a shack adjacent the dump, who lost both their parents in the trash avalanche.

Certainly, witnessing such a thing can put life and our problems into perspective. Is it a luxury problem we’re dealing with? Or is the problem on the order the magnitude of a pesky mosquito? Are we truly desperate? Or merely dramatic?

Along the way, an older women from the community association held my hand on the steep inclines, as I struggled with my unsure footing and irrational (now seeming all the more rational) fears of the steep paths. After the event, as we called the police, and then were ushered away from the scene, I did not see her again. She was an angel to me today, and I send her my gratitude out here in cyberspace.

Urban Village

Capitol Hill in DC is the most wonderful neighborhood.  It's historic houses; small commercial hubs of indepenedent businesses; pocket parks; and public transport compose an idyllic urban village.  Our city councilmember calls it a livable, walkable community.   I call it home.

This week, the Washington Post did a feature on the Eastern Market and Barracks Row districts of the neighborhood - both within walking distance of my house, and the locale of my most frequented haunts.  Among the featured businesses were some of my favorites, and some not so much.  Here's my take on the WaPo's take:

Acqua al 2:  Looks and feels like Italy, especially in the spring and summer when the cafe tables are outside.  The menu is authentic, if not pricey and fairly meat-centric.  It just makes me want to be an Italian wino.  An especially lovely ambiance.

Capitol Hill Books:  Of course, I love book stores, and the more independent the better.  But I'm scared of this one.  In this 100+ year old 2-story rowhouse, the books are stacked everywhere, two deep, one-hundred high, and near collapse.  Unfortunately, it feels like a claustrophobic firetrap to me.  I understand its appeal, and I want to love it more.

Montmartre:  My favorite petit French restaurant, and where I had the most gorgeous 40th birthday lunch - outside, alone, and completely content.  It's also wonderful for a meal a deux. The article mentions Seventh Hill next door, and by the same owners, where Anthony seriously spins spins some serious pizza dough, and I sit at the counter taking it all in.

Peregrine:  Amazing coffee, made with the care and respect it deserves.  I so enjoy getting a real cappuccino with richly spun foam.  The music tends to pulse a bit, and this together with free wireless, and fueled by the wired coffee, tends to give it a high greying hipster quotient.  Sometimes, I feel a little uncool there, but still just cool enough to get it.  And I always, always, always run into someone I know there.

Hill's Kitchen:  My shop of kitchen bliss.  I sometimes go in just to walk through and fondle the whisks and Peugeot pepper grinders.  I always try to buy one little something, to support the shop.  Leah, the owner, is barely 30, grew up in the neighborhood, and is somewhat of a local hero.  Seriously, if I run into her at Tunnicliff's Tavern or Seventh Hill (as I have on several occaisons), she is surrounded by adoring kitchen junkies 10+ years her senior.  Though I'm a huge fan, I never approach - it must be hard to be a local celebrity, I want her to be able to finish her beer in peace.

Ted's Bulletin: Diner-ish, comfort food with bar and a bakery.  I generally like the vibe, but milkshakes and chicken-fired steak are not really my thing.

Belga Cafe:  Real-life Belgian food.  It came before and is more upscale and with a wider menu than the hip, but also delish Granville Moore's on H Street NE.  I love the mussels and fries of course, but also their steak and the cool, savory tomato sorbet that melts its way into my salad.  It's also where I greatly enjoy a perfect Delerium Tremens - my favorite Belgain ale.

The Fridge:  Never been.  Must, must, must check it out!

Lola's Barracks Bar and Grill:  A younger crowd.  I think I've only been once, but very glad to have it in the mix.

Homebody:  I am a homebody, and I like any good home store.  Homebody is just such a store, and I give it props just for that.  But I've never bought anything here, the selection feels too limited to meet whatever it is I search that day.  Lots of great stuff, but nothing for me to buy.

The Ugly Mug:  A great bar, with bar food, and a bar crowd.  Most crowded around baseball games (not too far from Nationals stadium).  This where my au pair and her au pair friends hang out (or the Hawk and Dove).  I'm happy its there for her.

Stitch DC:  An intimate store with the finest, most beautiful of yarns - cashmere, mohair - in the most gorgeous array of colors from heathered pinks to bright lemons.  I once took a knitting class here - which resulted in 2 scarves before I retired from my knitting career.

DIPE brings out the skeptic in me...

For Actresses, Is a Big Appetite Part of the Show?  Absolutely, bring on the Oscar for BEST DIPE (Documented Instance of Public Eating, a fantastic term coined by film publicist, Jeremy Walker).  Essentially, actresses (or more accurately, their publicists) book interviews with journalists over lunch or dinner, and make a big display of ordering and eating and mentioning of their love for huge portions of highly caloric comfort food.   The actresses are usually young, thin, and HOT.

Seems like a big racket to me.  Eating with gusto suggests a large appetite for other things sensual, while dispelling any rumors of  an eating disorder, and keeping her mouth conveniently full during those pesky, probing questions.  A win-win-win, for the actress, at least.  The rest of us get taken.  I think it's shameless.

And the nominees are:

Drew Barrymore, in Harper's Bazaar: "I actually really love to lie in bed, watch TV, be a total sloth, and eat my favorite food: Kraft macaroni and cheese. Last night I was watching ‘The Next Food Network Star,’ eating mac and cheese, and feeling grand."


Mila Kunis, in Esquire: "This is a woman who, while watching ‘Super Size Me,’ had such a craving for McDonald’s, she had to pause the DVD in the middle and track down a Big Mac."


Padma Lakshmi, in Esquire: "I like the crispy, curly, crunchy, maple-coated, caramelized, blackened slowly kind of bacon on the back of a greasy grill at a five-dollar diner at 4:00 A.M."


Cate Blanchett, in Vogue:  "Blanchett announces that she’s famished and orders salmon and spinach, adding at the last second a side of Parmesan fried courgettes to start. A suggestion that we split the courgettes is met with uncertainty. 'I think we’d each better get our own,' she says, 'or things could get ugly.'"


These skinny, beautiful women have got some lusty appetites.  As for me, I'm not gonna bite.

Good morning, Sunday!

I woke up today around 7:30, as I usually do even when there is nothing to wake up to. No alarm. No kid padding into my room. And I am just lingering here in my bed. Relaxing. No rush on my day. I have my book and my laptop. I have checked in on my favorite people on Facebook. I have browsed the news - including and especially the food, style, and advice columns (including financial advice (Michelle Singletary, Washington Post), ethical advice (The Ethicist, New York Times), and relationship advice (Carolyn Hax, Washington Post)). Checked in on my favorite blogs (Hello, my dears!)  The house is peaceful. I keep thinking about going to the kitchen for a cup of coffee to add to the bliss, and to aid in the slow wake-up process. However, ironically, that little enhancement also involves the necessity of leaving my little personal sanctuary.

I don't have that much longer in this moment. I will soon rise, pull up the shades and let the light pour into my room, go get that cup of coffee. I have early brunch plans. Things to do, people to see. Real life - and responsibilities - will beckon soon enough, and get increasingly louder. But this moment is marvelous. And the fact that it is not all that common, makes it more so cherished.

Sounding the TAMPON ALARM!

For several months now, I've been wondering where the hell are the o.b. tampons? At first I thought it was my local CVS stock-out....then the CVS near work ran out...I found some at Safeway a month or so later, so assumed there must not be a real problem....then, I dipped into a back-up supply so I was good for another little while....I was able to buy some Lil'ets on my trip to London, so saved for another month. Then, as my reserves dwindled, I systematically began to seek my dear o.b.'s out. None at three CVS stores, none at Safeway, none at Giant, nor Rite Aid. Something was clearly up.

I began to hatch conspiracy theories.  Maybe it's that younger women don't use them, and I'm just a dinosaur set in my old o.b. ways.  Maybe it's some anti-feminist thing (my sis calls o.b.'s "radical tampons" because your actually have to touch yourself to insert the applicator-free tampon).  Maybe the U.S. is getting more and more bizarre in it's "American-way" ways because o.b.'s applicator-free-type tampon is way more prevalent than in Europe.   Maybe Kotex pushed them out in its latest re-branding (have you seen those sleek new black boxes?).   And I recently began to freak out- I wasn't out of tampons yet,  but I really didn't want to buy those plastic-y things or those stiff cardboard ones.

Well, I'm not the only one, and I'm not out of my mind.  Through a quick Google search I learned that women all over the U.S are desperate to get their hands on o.b's - even bidding them up on Ebay $76 for three packs!  

Here are some real-life articles on the Tampon Emergency with headlines worthy of the National Enquirer.... and a total hoot! Women in Dismay Over o.b. Tampon Shortage, (CBS News); O.B. Tampon Brand Missing From NYC Stores, (Huffington Post); Women searching far and wide for o.b. tampons after they mysteriously disappear from store shelves (NY Daily News); The Case of the Missing o.b. Tampons, (NY Times). These articles quote o.b. distributor Johnson&Johnson as saying somewhat cryptically, there was a "supply interruption."

But there is hope. As of early February, the Jezebel blog reports "O.B. tampons Return to shelves" (There are 367 comments on that particular post!). And official o.b. tampon website reports:

February 3, 2011: To our valued customers: We are pleased to confirm that o.b.® tampons are increasingly in-stock at more stores nation-wide as well as through on-line retailers such as:Amazon.com, drugstore.com, soap.com.

Supply may continue to vary in your area, however retailers who have received product include:

Acme, Albertsons, CVS, Cub, Duane Reade, Fred Meyer, Giant Eagle, Giant Food Stores, HE Butt, Jewel-Osco, Kroger, Lucky, Meijer, Publix, Rite Aid, Safeway, Sav-a-Lot, Shaw's/Star Markets, Shoppers, Shoprite, Inc., Stop & Shop, Target, Walgreens, Wal-Mart, Wegman's and other regional retailers. 

Well, this may be so, but the shelf was bare at my Safeway tonight. I'm still not desperate yet. I've got until early March to find some before I totally panic.