Category Archives: art

socks are the feetiest

There are some songs that are great at every age. I love “Everywhere I Go”.


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local crafty

I put off the documenting of last year’s trip to the UK for way too long and getting back into the scrap booking mode has been tough.  I lack the many accoutrement’s that my mom and sister have accumulated and so am getting by on the bare minimum.  Last weekend I braved the Michael’s craft store out in Springfield for the basics and found it really overwhelming.  After some digging around, I discovered that there is now a local craft shop on Capitol Hill (Eastern Market) called Ipso Crafto – it is right next door to Stitch DC.  I keep meaning to go to Stitch DC’s beginning knitting classes.  I still don’t know how to cast on!  I realize the knitting fad has already come and gone so its not like I’m trying to keep up with anybody.  Ipso Crafto is much larger than it looks and is pretty diverse.  It hosts scrap booking nights and one-on-one sewing classes.  Pretty neat.

I love my neighborhood sometimes.

Unf, Teh Smitten was involved in a minor car accident today.  He seems to be fine but his cute little car has been marred a bit – mostly cosmetic – but it means he can’t get his car inspected and registered this week like we had hoped.  Stupid touron (tourist + moron) drivers.

UPDATE:  The after hours ticket witches are very active in my neighborhood on the Hill.  If you have a bf or gf who drives, who lives outside of DC and visits often, be aware that they issue $100 tickets after a couple months of seeing a non-DC car regularly.  They have this satanically efficient little van that takes photos of the cars as they drive down the street.  So, even though Teh Smitten had planned to take his vehicle in for inspection and registration today (as we are now officially living in sin), he was ticketed last night.  This is how they must pay for the stadium and Michelle Rhee’s salary…

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art and rant

Last night, Teh Smitten and I were treated to complimentary tickets to see The Kiss of the Spider Woman at Signature Theatre.  A talented friend – who won a Helen Hayes Award last year for his role in Assassins – is playing one of the sadistic guards.  The musical isn’t run that often, and I haven’t yet seen the movie.  It is now in our Netflix queue.  Said friend also has a spooky amount in common with Teh Smitten; I’ll have to get those two together to share their thoughts on music, books and movies.  Tomorrow we’re seeing Teller’s Macbeth at Folger Shakespeare Library.  It has had great reviews.  Maybe not the most romantic play for our tenmonthaversary, but I’m excited.

Political rant:  I’m no fan of Michael Moore.  He irritates me.  But you’re doing yourself a great disservice if you don’t rent Sicko during this election year.  This country should be a better place and it is each person’s responsibility to go out and vote.   Watching this movie will make you envy the enfranchised citizens of Canada, the UK and France.  Having aging parents – both with health problems – as well as having had some health problems myself the past couple months makes the health care (and the associated dearth of time-off in this country) makes this issue very personal.  Yeah, the French are yellow-bellied surrender monkeys but their standard of living is still superior.  The average poor British citizen lives longer than the average wealthy American.  We’re working longer hours than ever, our economy is in the crapper, Iraq was so unbelievably wrong-headed…  Teh Smitten makes a really good point about election day not being a national holiday – there’s something wrong with a system that will not allow hard-working people the luxury of voting without worrying about losing a day’s pay.

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holy crap – they found the perfect replacement

Journey has always been one of those slightly guilty pleasures.  Back when I worked at the Senate, I had a colleague that we would torture with Oh Sherrie.  “You shoulda been go-hon!”

Anyway, like all of you, I felt that Journey really lacked that special something post-Steve Perry.  The Thirsty Bunny felt this rather acutely.  But then they pulled a Judas Priest and found themselves a singer from a cover band.  A really good singer from a really awful cover band.  From the Phillippines.  Via You Tube.  Really.

Consider this my Christmas gift to all of you.  He also does a decent cover of Jon Bon Jovi.  Feel the love, people.  Feel.  My.  Hairbandy.  Love.

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Eee… Er… Um…  Yeah.  I’ve got nothing.  Look, I’ve been busy.  A couple weeks back we caught Too Much Light Makes the Baby Go Blind at Woolly Mammoth as a part of the DC Fringe.  I’m sure you read about it in the Post, on DCist, or whatever, as it was fantastic and probably the one show you shouldn’t have missed from the Fringe.  (You missed it, didn’t you?  My inner arty scenester is lording it all over yours.)

Last weekend had a nautical theme that Teh Smitten would probably prefer not to relive.  Evidently it involved 8 foot waves, seasickness and buckets.  Fortunately, I was only a part of the picnicking aspect of the Governors Cup.

Work is a drag.  A veritable soul-sucking crapfest.  It pays well but my sense of humor has r-u-n-n-o-f-t.  (An Oh Brother, Where Art Thou reference, you cretins.  See?  I am no longer fun about this stuff.)

On the bright side, there’s a Cowgirl Creamery on the other side of the block from work.  I have been spending a ton of money there.  The Wensleydale cheese from North Yorkshire is beautiful.  Eating stuff you don’t have to cook on 100 degree days is a blessing.  If only cheese didn’t cause constipation…

Teh Smitten and I are doing very nicely.  Our conversations are peppered with odd statements such as, “you can’t do porn in flats”.  Also, he tends to pick up accents from movies we watch.  This is great when we’re watching something based in the Highlands of Scotland, but not so much with Borat.  (Thankfully, we had the sexytime before watching Borat tonight.  Wait.  Should I have actually written that out loud?  Dang.  Sorry, mi angelito.)

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i’m sorry you can’t be me

Regret the lack of posts, but having too much fun.

Thursday, June 15 – Tiny Ninja Theater’s version of Romeo and Juliet at The Kennedy Center’s Millenium Stage.  I know it sounds crazy, but it is.  Oh, its also very good.  If its good enough for Spoleto, it is good enough for you. 

Friday, June 16 – Dead Man’s Cell Phone at Woolly Mammoth Theatre (it has been extended so go!). 

This coming Tuesday – Red Elvises at Iota.  I wanna see you bellydance!

This coming Thursday – Erica’s farewell happy hour to the Bunny and Carmencita at Local 16.

Next weekend – We’re taking Friday off for some hot B&B action in VA wine country (yes, there will be drinking of wine and perhaps mead) as well as some more Romeo and Juliet at the Blackfriars

To return to a topic that seems without resolution, we still lack a blogalias for that guy.  I’m now considering “Teh Awesome” and “Teh Cuteness”. 


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support the arts, or (to steal the Bunny’s line) i will cut you

What a tough week.  Performance review = on target (yet nothing really positive from the bosses).  Love outlook = gloomy.  Meaningless sex outlook = overwhelming. 

I came very close to cancelling my plans tonight and just going home and wallowing.  I had a ticket to see Vigils at Woolly Mammoth Theatre and had just joined their Club Woolly as a part of my resolution to do something with my life other than working and dating.  Generally I prefer to see plays with a friend so I can discuss it afterwards; I think this was the first time I had ever seen a play on my own.  Anyway, Club Woolly was meeting beforehand for drinks, so I dabbed a little concealer on the bags under my eyes and walked the three short blocks to the theatre. 

 I’m so glad that I went.  First, if you’ve never been, the theatre space is fantastic.  It is huge, open, airy and austerely elegant.  Second, the people who work for Woolly are interesting and dedicated and don’t look like all the other DC worker bees.  They provided a lovely little spread for the club members and were so attentive to me.  (As a person who had a rough week, a little attentiveness meant so much.) 

The play is the thing.  Woolly’s plays are always a little twisted; a little disturbed.  Even the heart-warmers are dark and twisty.  Those of you who know me are all “yepyepyep.”  But I cannot recall the last time I left a theatre and had to choke back the tears on the cab ride home.  Certainly, I’ve gotten misty at the end of some plays but not this.  The play far exceeded expectations.  Every other line is either disturbed, funny or touching.  Actually, “touching” is hardly adequate.  The arts feed the soul, and being moved to tears by fringey theatre is worth far more than the $100 contributing membership. 

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