Red Nose

No Standing

Just like a cop, ignoring the very law he's supposed to enforce.

Church Street: Ashton Baptist Church

Next door to the day spa on New Hampshire Avenue is Ashton Baptist Church.

According to their site, they "are a loving, caring church with a wonderful group of believers who range from age 1 to 100." Their Sunday worship services begin with a continental breakfast, always a good thing! I really wanted to learn more about their puppet ministry, but that page is under construction, alas. I'd venture to guess, however, that God is pulling the strings.

A Memorial Visit

Last weekend -- the first perfect weekend of the year, by the way -- SonnyeBoy and his Sweety came to visit and to take in the sights. The weather was absolutely gorgeous, did I mention?

Anyway, we shared the National Mall with several demonstrations and protests -- Satuday, there was a demonstration against the war; Sunday, there was a demonstration for immigration reform. We went to the zoo on Saturday afternoon, where there seemed to be a demonstration in favor of strollers for everyone.

Demonstrations aside, we did visit several memorials.

First, we paid a visit to the National Law Enforcement Officers Memorial at Judiciary Square, which commemorates police officers who have died in the line of duty.

Sadly, SonnyeBoy knew a couple of those officers. 

We also visited the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, a quiet place where families still leave mementos in honor of those brave men and women.

I found this note particularly poignant.

 

Anthony Kercoude is Joe's cousin Tony, who died in action in 1973; now his name lives on the wall.

 

One of the spookiest memorials is the Korean War Veterans Memorial, which is a set of statues of soldiers moving silently through the grass. It really gives me a sense of impending battle, of fear and anticipation.

We also saw a lot of other memorials -- the majestic World War II Memorial, the Lincoln memorial, the Vietnam Women's Memorial -- and, of course, the Washington Monument.

All these memorials reminded me that there are a lot of heroes out there who started out as regular boys and girls who thought it might be a good thing to serve, or who got caught up in the draft, or who maybe just wanted a job. And it's because of them, over all those years, that all those other demonstrations can happen, even the Stroller Power Rally at the zoo.

Oh My Caps!

I am such a nervous fan, especially when my boys play those guys from Pittsburgh. I peek through my fingers during penalty kills; I grit my teeth every time the puck comes close to our goalie.

I have been known to change the channel for a brief second if I sense a spike in my blood pressure.

Such was the game tonight. It was a close contest; scoreless after the first thanks to stellar goaltending by Jose Shutthedoor. We traded goals in the early going in the second and then... arg! We fell behind!

But we came back and scored twice in short order to take the lead!

But then -- OH NO! -- they tied it up with three minutes to play! Would it be the death knell for my beloved boys in red? We pulled it out in OT during the Blizzard Bowl, how could we possibly do it again?

GAH! Still tied at the end of overtime! We go to the shootout. I am in despair, as we are generally not that great at the shootout.

Sure enough, the Caps fall behind 2-0 during the shootout, and it would be up to the Great Eight to keep us alive.

Alas, Ovie is not that great at the shootout.

Except tonight! He roofs it!

And then Jose stopped the next shooter, and then Sasha Semin netted his shot to tie it up, and then Jose stoned the next shooter, and then!

Mike Knuble scored the first shootout goal of his career!

Thank you, boys. Thank you.

Church Street: St. John the Baptist Roman Catholic Chuch

St. John the Baptist Roman Catholic Church hides behind a stand of trees. Once you drive behind them, though, you see this pretty house of worship:

Inscribed over the door is this phrase: “There is always a place for you at Saint John’s.” That's good to know!

Actually, I do have some familiarity with this church, because my niece got married here. The day and evening before the wedding it snowed like crazy and there was some concern over whether the rehearsal dinner would go off as planned. I talked to my brother-in-law late in the afternoon and asked if the event was still on.

He answered, "I'm going anyway. It's only damn thing I'm not paying for!"

Sure enough, even with the snow, there was a lovely wedding in this lovely church.

Fifteen Perfect Minutes

It was a busy, busy morning preparing a new course for its internal debut tomorrow. I thought I was done at least three times, only to get "one more change" and "can we put this in" and "fix this screenshot" and nit nit nit nit.

Grrr.

I ate my egg sal san and yogurt lunch at my desk. I had a chat with my boss. I did some more editing and tweaking and email answering. The lead tech guy asked if I could...

Yes, I could.

Finally, along about three o'clock, the requests petered out. I looked out the window at the cloudless sky and decided that I was committing a crime by staying inside on such a beautiful day, so I grabbed my purse and went outside to grab a cupcake and coffee at Starbucks.

As I walked down the steps toward Starbucks, I heard music -- violin and bass playing Mozart, and playing it beautifully.

I sighed; how nice! Then I saw the buskers, two guys set up right in front of my building, right in front of the Metro stop and the Starbucks, serenading the passersby with lovely, lovely music.

I stopped for a second, then got my cupcake and coffee, and then found a seat on the wall in the sun, to listen to the music.

They finished the Mozart and started the most perfect piece that they could have played on a warm, gorgeous day, the most perfect piece for eating a vanilla cupcake and drinking a cup of coffee, Vivaldi's Spring from The Four Seasons.

Am I silly that it made me so happy to be sitting in the sun listening to Vivaldi?

After they finished, I emptied my wallet (three measly bucks) into their bucket and went back inside. They were still there when I left to go home, and I headed for the train to the strains of Pachelbel's Canon.

Ahhhhh.

Gold Diggers and Networking

I've been watching TCM this evening, first 42nd Street and now Gold Diggers of 1933. They are both great romps starring Ruby Keeler and Dick Powell, and featuring Ginger Rogers pre Fred Astaire. Choreography? Why, it's by the great Busby Berkley. Right now Ginger is singing "We're In The Money" in pig Latin, and I am not lying.

God, I adore these musicals. They are sneakily risque, from the costumes to the lines. My favorite line from 42nd Street is "She's only said 'No' once and that was because she didn't hear the question."

And now, in Gold Diggers of 1933, Barney's puttin' on a new show!

Well, old movies aren't the most exciting thing in my life these days. In about a month I'm going to be advising theater major undergraduates on just exactly why a performing arts degree can be valuable to them in their lives after college.

Heh.

The event is ACCESS2ALUMNI at the University of Maryland, my alma mater. It's an internship fair; one of the features is a networking session featuring alumni talking about how they've used their degrees.

Or, in my case, how I haven't used my degree.

I was straight up about my stunning lack of stardom and success in the performing arts milieu, and the woman who was recruiting me was all over that. They already have alumni who have had success in the performing arts, and they wanted someone in a successful career who could speak to how the drama degree helped in that success.

I agreed, because I do think my degree has helped me in my career. For one thing, it helped me become a damn good speaker. I have friends who would rather eat glass than speak in public, but I'm not one of them. It's just another acting job to me!

It's probably good for these kids to hear this, especially the ones haven't quite realized that the odds of stardom are against them.

But just you watch. Every single undergrad acting student who sits at my table will be picking up an Oscar in the next few years. So much for alternate uses for your drama degree!

Church Street: St. Thomas Indian Orthodox Church

The members of the Malankara Orthodox religion believe that Saint Thomas, one of the original twelve apostles, traveled to India, preached the gospel, and founded the church.

Here's the American version on New Hampshire Avenue, St. Thomas Indian Orthodox Church:

I like this statement from their beliefs:

He stands with a humble heart, bowed head and eyes yearning for God's vision, before the Almighty God who is the Creator and Sustainer of all. Man often enjoys fellowship with God in silence also reminding us of the verse "Be still and know that I am God" (Ps. 46:10).

Fellowship with God sounds like a good thing to have!

Rainy Day Love List

It's been raining all day, from a light drizzle to a steady downpour, and it looks like it's going to rain all weekend.

Whenever it rains like this, I start humming the old Sesame Street song:

It's a rainy day, it's a rainy day!
It's raining outside and I can't go out to play.
Why do we need the rain anyway?

Then the song goes on to enumerate all the reasons why rain is good.

Yeah, I get it; I still prefer the sun though.

So in lieu of a sunny afternoon, I'll do a Friday Love List. Here's what I'm loving on a wet end of the week:

• A good night's sleep. I actually had a couple this week!
• The sound of spring peepers singing in the wet woods.
• The sight of robins.
• The Stanley Cup playoffs -- Let's Go Caps!
• Speaking of the Caps, I love that we clinched the Southeast Division title already. Third year in a row!
• Cheese curds, especially when they are all melty in a bowl of good chili.
• Fried cheese curds, all by themselves, especially the ones from the Dyckesville Bowl.
• Bowling, even though I suck mightily at it.
• Brandy Alexander, sweet, as served by the Club Chalet supper club in Green Bay. (Thank you, Esteban!)
• Laser tag! Who knew?
• Dancing, all by myself or with somebody or with a lot of somebodies.
• Glow stick bracelets.
• New friends.
• Old friends.
• Seeing friends I haven't seen in a few years.
• Finding out about interesting websites from friends I haven't seen in a few years.
• Firesign Theatre. Shoes for industry, compadre!
• A general lightening of spirit, coinciding (not coincidentally) with the very soon onset of Daylight Savings Time. Light in the evening! I sigh with happiness and relief.

And so another week comes to a close. This weekend promises to be much more laid back than last, and while I miss all my tribe and all the fun we have, it will be good to be quiet.

Besides, SonnyeBoy and his Sweetie are coming for a visit next week. I have to clean the bathroom!

Dressing Up

Normally I do not don the fancy duds when I go to a Very Bad Bar, for I like to be comfy when I'm indulging in adult beverages and flinging my ass around the dance floor.

But when the opportunity arose to test out and review a dress from the wonderful plus-size fashion house Igigi, I leapt at it like a gazelle escaping from a hungry lion, especially since I got to keep the dress. I chose the Carolina Swirl dress, because when you are going to a Very Bad Bar that plays the Weetacon anthem, how can you not wear that dress? It's like an order!

Anyway, I was a little worried when I looked at the tag: size 12. What? I thought I had ordered a 14/16, but there it was: 12. But I pulled it on over my head and lo! It was good! The larger size may have given me more room about the hips, but the size 12 top fit perfectly. The neckline, as you can see, was sexy without being too revealing.

 

The dress was so comfy -- no need to tug or adjust; no worries about cling. It pulled on over my head and settled right down over my flabby bits curves, accentuating the good and minimizing the bad. And this from a dress that was supposedly a size too small!

Best of all, it packs like a dream.

Now, you will notice that I am wearing pantyhose. I had to buy them, for I did not own a single pair. I chose size Q, because the next size up was 4X and I am not there (yet). The legs fit just fine, but boyoboy, I had to stretch the top over mah belleh until it practically screamed. (Or maybe I screamed. I forget.)

Queen size, my ass.

Well, actually, yes.

Okay.

Anyway, I was wearing nylon undies, so the pantyhose were barely holding on -- I sensed that slippage was imminent. Sure enough, as I sat down to dinner the hose finally gave up and beat a hasty retreat and suddenly I was wearing extremely lo-rise pantyhose.

I was a little scared to stand up, fearing complete pantyhose failure -- how do you explain that to a room full of people? I was lucky, though, as the hose were still hanging on in the back. So off to the bathroom I went to rearrange.

Success!

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And now for a brief commercial: Really, if you're a lady of size, do check out Igigi's fashions. If you find something you like - and I know you will - use the promo code WEETACON to get 20% off your purchase. Pretty nice, eh? (And that is as close to an ad as you will ever see here at Chez Red Nose.)