Bridge Weekend

"The real test of a bridge player isn't in keeping out of trouble, but in escaping once he's in."

I started playing bridge in the spring of 2001 when I was studying abroad in Scotland. I was there with my friends Paul, Andi, and Alyssa, and we were looking for something to do one night. "Do you guys want to play bridge?" Paul innocently asked. And we never looked back.

We played everywhere. In pubs, on trains, in hostels, but mostly in the common room of my dorm (David Russell Hall or DRH as those in the know would call it). Chris came to visit us for a week or so in the spring and we brought him into the fold. We took our little bridge club back to the States with us, and that's how I met Selvi and Sarah; they lived on the same hall as Andi and Alyssa and would come hang out in the Old Dominion common area at William and Mary when we would get together and play.

We added even more people to the group; Eric and Pete from the concert band, who helped us carry on the club when most everyone else graduated in 2002. I stayed for law school and we brought in Kristin and Jennifer my roommate to keep the club going. I can't remember how often we would meet, but it was at least once a week and usually involved heavy drinking of some kind. Which meant our scores and strategy were somewhat fast and loose. Just like your Mom. Oh, did I mention the your Mom jokes??

But as these things tend to happen, we all started drifting away from one another. People got married and moved, it became harder and harder to get four people in the same room to play in person and life kept getting in the way of playing online in the evenings. So we finally decided to do something about it. We rallied the troops, picked a weekend and a point on the map in between, and agreed to meet up for a weekend of fun and well-mannered frivolity. Well, perhaps not that well-mannered.

"Having sex is like playing bridge. If you don't have a good partner, you'd better have a good hand." 

Since we had 10 people getting together and needed room enough to actually play, we decided to rent a house in the Massanutten ski resort off I-81 in Virginia near Luray Caverns. It was perfect; enough bedrooms for everyone, a hot tub, a large dining room table, and a card table and folding chairs. And since we had 8 players, we had just enough people to get two games going.

Of course seeing everyone (Paul, his wife Anna, Andi and her husband Jeff, Selvi, Chris, Kent, Eric, and Doug) was the real highlight, I was a bit worried that we would get there and people would just want to sit around and not much bridge-playing would happen. Well, it turns out I was half-right; there was a lot of sitting around but that's because we were playing bridge all weekend! From the moment we had four people who were awake and in the same room until around 2 in the morning, bridge was happening. Sure we took breaks for food, the hot tub, and to watch the Olympics, but for the most part it was all bridge, all the time. And it was AWESOME.

We kept score best we could, but all the games were fluid with people changing partners constantly and moving from table to table. Basically, we were giant bridge sluts. But it kept things interesting and it gave everyone a chance to play with everyone else. Over the years we had cemented certain partnerships: for example, first me and Andi and then me and Chris, but everyone was fair game this weekend!

"We had a partnership misunderstanding. My partner assumed I knew what I was doing."

All in all, it was too much fun to make it a one-time thing. At the very least it will become a yearly tradition, but I think we could shoot for every six months. And if you want to get in on the fun, it's never too late to learn! The actual play of bridge is very similar to spades, the only real difference is that the trump suit can change based on bidding that takes place before the playing starts. Of course, you never really learn all the tricks of the trade. Just remember: points above the line don't count. 

 The scene of the crime, Moccasin Lodge

 In the hot tub! From left to right, Selvi, Me, Eric, Doug, Paul, Anna, and Chris

 Two tables of bridge at once!

 Group photo!

Me and Anna in the hot tub haze.

On the Radio

Ever since I was a little kid, I've spent my mornings here in DC  listening to the Jack Diamond Morning Show on MIX 107.3. They used to air a "best of the Jack Diamond" show on Saturday mornings, and we would listen to it in the car when my Dad would pick us up from my Mom's for the weekend. So let's just say that me and Jack go way back. Though he is completely unaware of our lifelong connection.

There have been a lot of changes to DC radio in the decades since then. See ya, 99.1, WHFS! It was nice knowing you, Billy Bush! But Jack Diamond always remains the same...and I have listened to him for around 20 years or so.

Every Friday, the Jack Diamond show brings in a live audience (of about 10 people) for Free 4 All Friday. It's always been one of the things I wanted to do, but never seemed to get around to actually calling in to get the tickets, taking the day off, and getting off my ass and doing it. But this past week, I knew I was going to have Friday off (since I was headed out of town for a bridge club reunion...more about that later) and I wasn't going to have to leave until noon. I decided the time was right, and I was ready to be on the radio!

It was way easier to get tickets than I expected; I called Monday morning and told the nice lady who answered how I really wanted to come in for Free 4 All Friday and had been a long time listener. She took my name, age, and email and put me on the list. And that, as they say, was that. And since I am not ever one to go it alone, my friend Chris was along for the ride.

The first instruction we were given was the hardest: we had to be at the studio by 5:15 am. This is, after all, a morning show, which meant that my alarm went off at 3:30 in the morning. I went to bed early the night before to try to get about 6 hours of sleep, but I have to confess I was so excited that I don't think I got more than 3. Still, I was up and out of the house to get Chris by 4:30 and we made it to the studio up near Tenleytown with time to spare. Then we sat in the building lobby until 5:30 when Brooke, who does the traffic on the show, came down and brought us up!

The offices for the station are smaller than I thought (at least as far as we could see).We went right into the recording studio where the gang (Brooke, Ali, and Jimmy Alexander) were all ready and waiting. Unfortunately Jack Diamond himself was not in attendance; he was sick and getting ready to go on vacation. There was some disappointment, but everyone was so nice and funny, that we all had a great time.

In the recording studio!

There were 10 people in the "audience" that morning and everyone was very nice. Maybe it was the early hour, but some people seemed to have really low energy, but you guys know me. I basically took it upon myself to get everyone chatting and excited, and before too long we were getting the "quiet down" signal from Jimmy when we were coming back from commercial. break. We can't have the audience taking over the show!

And the best part was, Chris and I actually made it on the show! Chris got to play the Agree/Disagree game on the air and won a $50 giftcard to the new casino in Anne Arundel, and I got a chance to tell a story about "the craziest thing I ever saw." I self-censored and told a story about a deer trying to leap over a car*, since I figured stories about drug use in Amsterdam were not going to go over well on a family-friendly morning show. Just to clarify: it would have been a story about someone else's drug use, not mine. But still. Methinks shrooms and morning radio are not the best combination.

Chris waiting to play Agree/Disagree

I think because Jack wasn't around there was less on air chit chat between the other hosts and the audience, and more music. But that meant more chances for us to talk with the hosts during songs and at commercial breaks. Everyone was just really fun, wanted to know about the people in the audience, and happy talking. We stuck around until 9:00 and then were set free for the rest of the day. Oh, and did I mention they had most excellent catering from a local restaurant? Definitely worth getting up at 3:30 in the morning! And you're not going to hear me say that about a lot of things.

Oh, and I almost forgot the best part. Everyone in the audience gets a "goody bag" that included concert tickets and other fun stuff. But one person wins a Grand Prize...and it was me! I got a free overnight stay at the Anne Arundel casino (on the executive level, ooh la la), two free tickets to the buffet, and $50 in free slots play. SCORE.

All in all, it was a really fun morning and I hope I get the chance to go back and see the show again...and this time meet Jack Diamond!

 Me and Chris with the morning show gang: Brooke, Ali, and Jimmy. And yes, those are Maryland flag shorts. No accounting for taste.

* Here's the entire crazy story about the deer: I was driving to my Mom's house which is a pretty wooded area of Alexandria. While on one of the main streets, a fawn suddenly darted into the road but managed to avoid the long line of cars. The fawn was followed immediately by Mama Deer, who made the decision to jump over a station wagon that was driving in front of me; she almost cleared it, but ended up getting clipped on the hip by the station wagon's luggage rack (stupid luggage rack) and flipped over the entire car landing on the other side of the road. It was like Olympic gymnast level of flipping. The deer just got up and ran off, and all the drivers were left looking at each other with a "the hell?" expression before continuing our drive.

Zombies, Run!

It's been a little more than a year and a half since I first took up running with the Couch to 5K program. People ask me all the time "do you enjoy running?"

Umm. To be totally honest....not really. When I am in the act of running mostly what I am thinking is, "oh god oh god please make this stop." I'm not enjoying the running endorphins or whatever--which btw, I am convinced are actually a myth. Because I have yet to experience any kind of runner's high. But it's more how I feel after running that makes it all worth while. I feel strong, and I am still genuinely surprised that I'm able to run at all. When I started I could barely make it for a full minute, but it's amazing how quickly your body adjusts and gets strong. And I guess I kind of lied about the endorphin thing--at the end of my first 5K I felt amazing, like I had just accomplished something really special. But still, one morning of feeling good does not a runner's high make.

ANYWAY, the point is, running is hard. In fact, the hardest part is working up the motivation. Sometimes you just want to stay on the couch, you know? So I'll take anything I can to help me get my ass outside or down to the treadmill--because I only run outside if the temperature is between 50 and 80 degrees. Otherwise, Homey don't play that.

Enter Zombies, Run, stage left.

Zombies, Run is an app that was originally only for iPhone, but has expanded into the Droid universe. It's a game, radio drama, and running tool all in one. Basically, you play the "character" of a runner for a small outpost of survivors of the zombie apocalypse. You go out on missions to collect supplies and other more mysterious items. Between songs from your own playlist, voice actors play the part of other people in the town (called Abeltownship) who dole out personal stories and clues to a larger mystery. Because not everyone in Abeltownship is who they seem...and it looks like you might even learn about how and why the zombie virus began. The longer you run, the more supplies you collect, and the more you can build up Abeltownship and support its growing population.

Believe it or not, the app actually has me looking forward to getting out and running. I want to hear what's going to happen next with the characters and each mission includes more clues about what started the zombie plague and whether someone is working against the survivors. There have been a couple updates since I downloaded it which have improved some bugs--there weren't really any instructions before, but now the game contains a "codex" that explains the who, what, where, and provides explanations of all the items you pick up.

Each mission lasts between 25-30 minutes, but you can keep running as long as you want. The game will continue to play songs from your playlist and you can still pick up items as you go (though the number decreases when the mission is completed). There's also more acting--once the mission is over you get to listen to portions of a radio show some of the survivors have started. It doesn't really add anything to the overall plot, but it's cute.

I recommend Zombies, Run wholeheartedly to anyone who likes to run or is trying to get into running. If you used this along with the Couch to 5K plan, I think you would have a really great way to stay motivated. If I remember correctly, the app cost $7.99 but is well worth the price. The first "season" contains 23 missions and I imagine they will release more in the future.

So tie on your shoes, plug in your earphones, and head out the gates of Abeltownship. And remember. RUN!

The Impossible Storm

It's easy to get caught up in our lives; the hustle and bustle of work, family, shopping, dating, etc. ad nauseum. We rush to and fro with to do lists that seem impossible to conquer and then beat ourselves up when we can't get everything done. Or is that just me? Anyway, we're busy.

And then Mother Nature comes along and bitch slaps us but good.

Friday night, June 29, 2012 was a quiet night. I was headed to New York City the next day (to see the play Harvey with Jim Parsons from The Big Bang Theory) so I stayed in and went to bed early, around 10:30. I was just drifting off around 10:40 when I heard the wind pick up. And then lightning started flashing. And not just regular lightning; a LOT of continuous lightning. And then it started raining. Pouring. Actually, deluging.

The lights flickered. "No way," I thought. "It's like 100 degrees outside. I need AC." Cue the power going out. And as as soon as the lights went out, the fire alarm went off. I immediately assumed the building had been struck by lightning, since the fire alarms had never before gone off the other times the power went out. I jumped out of bed, threw on some clothes (all by the light of my cell phone) and went into the living room. And then I got a good look at the tempest outside. It was like a hurricane, and my response was basically, "you have got to be kidding me. They want us to go outside in THAT?"

But I sucked it up like a good girl and started down the (16 flights) of stairs. I made it down to floor 8 when the alarm turned off. Ok, great. Back up the stairs and into the non-air conditioned apartment. The rest of the night was...uncomfortable. I'm on the top floor of my building and as you know, hot air rises. It also took me a few hours to calm down from the adrenaline rush of the alarm and stairs fiasco.

In the end it turns out I was one of the more fortunate ones. I spend almost the entire day Saturday in NYC so the loss of power wasn't that big an inconvenience. It still wasn't on when I got home at 12:30 that morning, but I just went right back into the car and headed to Mom's house, since she was kind enough to let me crash. The power was restored as of 3:00 in the morning on Sunday, and the AC kicked back in Sunday evening. A lot of people had it a lot worse--going until the middle of the week before getting power. Let's just say that Pepco has a lot to answer for.

So what caused this? According to The Washington Post, the storm in question is called a derecho. Apparently they occur about every four years in the DC area, but trust me when I tell you I haven't seen a storm like this before. It came out of nowhere, developing only hours before it rushed into DC. Blah blah jet stream above a "heat dome" blah blah, point is, the storm developed in the Midwest (OF COURSE) and tore through DC creating winds above 70 miles per hour. I think I heard somewhere that it was the worst damage DC has ever had outside of a hurricane or tropical storm. Exciting! Except, you know, not. I think the current death toll from the storm is something like 17 people, mostly due to being hit by falling trees. Ouch.

Like most storms, the people I know weathered this one none the worse for wear. A lot of people lost the contents of their fridges and freezers (my freezer survived since the power was only out for 30 hours) and I didn't end up having to huff it up the stairs at all. So, count me among the lucky ones.

Still, it doesn't mean the whole thing didn't suck. In fact, I had a truly epic meltdown on Saturday night when I got home and saw the lights were still out. Let's just say the words "bullshit" and "this is not the third world" were bandied about. I know feel kind of ashamed of my reaction, like I said, a lot of people had it worse, but it just goes to show how we come to rely on our electrical grid for the most basic of comforts. As soon as those lights go off, it's like civilization shuts down.

So I guess what I am really saying is start preparing for the zombie apocalypse now. Because when the lights go out, you're not going to know what to do when your cell phone batteries run out, the radio stations shut down, and you are all alone.

Yard sale 2012

Ah, summer. The days are longer and hotter and hotter.

I guess I like summer...as much as I can like a season that turns my hair into a gnarly frizzball, makes sweat pour out of my glands as soon as I step out the door, and makes me turn as red as a cherry tomato unless I slather every inch of exposed skin in sunscreen.

Summers were a lot more fun when I was a kid; when the days were filled with alternating trips to the library and the pool and I could stay up until 3 in the morning reading or hanging with my friends. Oh, and there were slurpees! Now summer means having to slog six blocks from the metro station to the work in oppressive humidity and trying desperately to fall asleep in a stifling bedroom when the air conditioning goes out.

But there is one thing about summer that I really love and that's the annual Riley family yard sale! Since my grandmother passed away a few years ago, my Aunt has done an amazing job on working to clear out their house, which let's be honest, was pretty much stuffed to the gills. That means that there is plenty of stuff to put in a yard sale every year, and when we get the rest of our family and friends in on the action we are talking about a truly epically sized sale.

This was our second year of the sale, and it was even bigger than last year! We had the same large cast of helpers, but I think we had even more people come out and even more stuff got moved. The people tend to come in waves, and I was of course still shocked about the cheapness of people (no you cannot have that $500 armchair for $20 you FOOL). Of course the haggling and meeting new people--especially the cute guy who moved across the street from my Aunt--is fun, but the best part is hanging with your friends and watching all your old crap move out the door.

And I didn't get sunburned. VICTORY. 

 Now all we need our customers.

Ah, there they are!

 The yard sale helpers relax in the shade!

 Me and Selvi

 Mark your calendars for the first weekend of June 2013--the third annual Riley family yard sale!

Summer cake and BBQ

I've always loved baking, and since I remodeled my kitchen a few years ago, I have been trying to cook more as well. I've decided to make more of an effort to post about the recipes I try, pass along any tips, etc. Don't worry about this isn't turning into a cooking blog--but I figured someone out there would be interested in hearing about my culinary successes and failures. And trust me, there have been a lot of failures. But that's part of the process!

Last weekend, my good friend Chris had a barbecue party to celebrate the completion of his new backyard deck. It was quite the party; there must have been over 20 people there and there was a ton of food to be had. I decided to make a small contribution by trying a new cake recipe and a new technique--slicing the undecorated cake into three layers.

I chose the "chiffon cake with strawberries and cream" recipe from Martha Stewart (of course). It seemed like a good choice for a cook-out; not too sweet or rich, and not too unhealthy, especially since it does not use any butter or heavy cream. The cake itself is something like an angel food cake (which is very low in fat), but a little more dense so it's easier to slice. It's baked in a tube fan also like an angel food cake, but only gets tricky in that you have to slice the cake into three equal layers.

The trick is not to slice through the entire layer in one go, but rather to work the knife through the cake a little at a time, turning the cake as you go. This helps make sure it turns out even. I think mine turned out mostly successful, though the top layer was a little thicker than the others. Still, practice makes perfect! I also cheated a little by using pre-made whip cream rather than making it by scratch. This makes for a healthier (since I used cool whip) and easier alternative. I mean, I appreciate Martha' recipes, but come on. I don't have time for all this whipping shit.

 Assembling the cake after the layers have been sliced.

 The finished product! The recipe is at the bottom of the post.

The cake was a big hit at the BBQ, since there wasn't a lot left at the end of the night. But I have to confess that it paled in comparison to Caroline's contribution which was a gorgeous chocolate cake with about eight wafer thin layers. I still can't believe that I had the willpower to resist having some (I am trying to stay away from the baked goods).

As for the party itself, it was super fun and the new deck is gorgeous. I was not entirely convinced that Chris would be able to pull it off since he built it himself along with his Mom and Stepdad, but it turned out beautiful and strong. There was delicious food, good company, oh, and some Rock Band for good measure.

 Enjoying the new deck!

 The master chef.

 Caroline takes an...unusual approach to slicing the cake. When in doubt, use a broadsword.

The remains of the day.

Martha Stewart's Chiffon Cake with Strawberries and Cream (my changes and comments are in italics)

Ingredients For the Cake

o 2 1/4 cups cake flour (not self-rising)
o 1 1/2 cups granulated sugar, divided
o 2 1/4 teaspoons baking powder
o 3/4 teaspoon salt
o 1/2 cup safflower oil
o 7 large egg yolks plus 9 large egg whites
o 3/4 cup whole milk (I substituted skim milk with no ill effects)
o 1/2 teaspoon cream of tartar
o 1 whole vanilla bean, split and scraped, or 2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract (fuck the vanilla bean, use the vanilla extract)

For the Berries and Cream 

o 2 pounds strawberries, hulled and halved or quartered (about 5 cups), plus more for serving
o 1/2 cup granulated sugar
o 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
o Pinch of salt o 2 cups cold heavy cream
o 1/4 cup confectioners' sugar, plus more for sprinkling

(Or you can do it like me and just use Cool Whip; you can also use all kinds of berries, I think a mix of strawberries and blueberries would by yummy)

Directions 

1. Make the cake: Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Whisk together flour, 3/4 cup granulated sugar, the baking powder, and salt. Whisk together oil, egg yolks, and milk in a large bowl. Whisk flour mixture into egg-yolk mixture.

2. Beat egg whites with a mixer on high speed until frothy. Add cream of tartar and vanilla seeds or extract, and beat until soft peaks form. Gradually add remaining 3/4 cup granulated sugar, beating until stiff, glossy peaks form, about 5 minutes. Whisk one-third of the egg-white mixture into batter. Gently but thoroughly fold in remaining egg-white mixture with a rubber spatula.

3. Transfer batter to tube pan. Bake until top of cake springs back when touched, 52 to 55 minutes. Let cool upside down (over a bottle or on tube-pan feet) 1 hour. (I was concerned about cooling upside down, but it really worked! Make sure you grease the pan really well, and then a run a knife along the sides before trying to remove it from the pan)

4. Make the berries and cream: While cake is baking and cooling, combine strawberries, granulated sugar, lemon juice, and salt, and let sit, stirring occasionally, 1 hour. Just before assembling, beat cream and confectioners' sugar until medium peaks form.

5. Slide a paring knife around edges of tube and side of pan; release cake. Cut cake horizontally into 3 layers with a serrated knife. Transfer bottom layer to a cake plate or platter. Spread with half the berries, and drizzle with juices. Spread half the whipped cream over berries, then top with middle cake layer. Spread with remaining berries and whipped cream. Top with remaining cake layer. Refrigerate cake 1 hour. Sprinkle with confectioners' sugar, and serve with berries.

Carrying the Banner

Remember when I was in Costa Rica? I traveled there in January with a friend and his parents, and his Mom and I really hit it off. It turns out we both have a love for musicals, and since she lives in New York we decided it would be fun for me to come up sometime and we would go to a show. As you guys know, I'm not really one to just make plans in the abstract (I figure if you are going to do something, just do it), so when Peggy (the mom) got an email about advance ticket sales for the new Broadway show, Newsies, we decided just to go for it!

So last Saturday, I took the bus up to NYC for a day of music, dance, good food, and great company. First I met up with my friend Sarah and we had lunch at the famous John's Pizzeria in Midtown right off of Time's Square. Not only does it have delicious thin crust brick oven-baked pizza, but the restaurant is in a really cool old church. With stained glass windows and everything. We got there right when it opened at 11:30 and there wasn't too bad a crowd, but by the time we left the place was packed with tourists and townies alike.

John's Pizzeria--notice the stained glass window!

By that time, it was only a bit before the show so I said farewell to Sarah (at least until my next visit) and met up with Peggy outside the theater. Newsies is playing at the Nerderlander Theater, which has existed since 1921 and was where Rent opened and ran for 12 years. There was quite a crowd for the performance and the line to get in stretched around the block even before the doors opened. While we waited they sent out one of the guys in the chorus in his full Newsies regalia to sell programs--which were super cute and designed like newspapers.

Outside the Nederlander

When the doors (finally) opened, we entered the theater and realized our seats were pretty kickass--fourth row! While this was awesome because it meant we were super close for all the dancing action, it also meant we were really close to the actor who plays Davey and is apparently unable to speak emphatically without spraying spit all over the place. I seriously thought the people in the first row should have some kind of plastic sheeting like at a Gallagher show. I could. not. handle it.

Other than the waterworks from Davey, the show was excellent. It was very much an old-school musical like from the Golden Age of Hollywood. Just fun, solid singing and dancing--LOTS of dancing which is something I feel is missing from modern musicals. Oh, and there wasn't any tragedy or deaths or anything heavy like that. It was entertaining as hell, and as an added bonus, the cast was full of some of my favorite dancers from So You Think You Can Dance. There were a couple changes from the movie, but for the most part I thought they were all smart. And the new songs were catchy and non-offensive to a fan of the source material.

 Those are some limber newsies.

 After the show, Peggy and I wandered around looking for a place to have dinner that wasn't loaded with tourists, and on the way we came across the HBO shop. That particular adventure is documented on the tv blog, along with pictures of the awesome costumes that were displayed in the store. After shopping and dinner it was back to the bus (which was late OF COURSE) and the ride back home.

It's a long day to NYC and back and I end up spending 8 hours on the bus and only 8 hours in the city...and yet it's still worth it. All cliches aside, there is just something about the Big Apple that is exciting, inspiring, and makes me giddy. Maybe it's all the history...or just the huge masses of creative genius that it houses. Either way, I'm going to keep seeing it all...one day at a time.

Fight the power, yo.

It doesn't seem like there are a lot of opportunities to strike out on your own and change your life as an adult. Sure, you can get married and have children, but you kind of need another person to make that happen. And when you're a kid, it seems like interests and dreams are in one day and out the next; when I was a kid, I was convinced I was going to be a dancer, actress, aerobics-instructor, princess. I swear to god, that was an actual goal.

But once you graduate college and lock down a career path, it becomes way more difficult to make changes. And not just for practical reasons, but for emotional ones as well. Change is hard. It's violent, scary, and chaotic. It's much easier just to stay where you are...even if where you are makes you unhappy.

Which is why I am so proud of my friend Carly who has recently made a big change in her life and has sought on a new business opportunity. She has become a Mary Kay consultant.

Now I know what you are thinking. How is selling make-up a big change? Well, for her it's going into an entirely new business, sacrificing a lot of free time on the venture, and as they say "putting yourself out there." Mark Kay doesn't sell itself, so it means Carly will be talking and selling to friends and strangers alike at parties, pampering sessions, and in even less formal settings. Basically, I respect the hell out of her for the willingness to make the change and take charge of her life. Snaps up and a big "you go girl!"

And having a friend who sells Mary Kay isn't without advantages. I get to attend a lot of the parties and get samples and tips. For example, I participated in Carly's first pampering session a few weekends ago, and the results were pleasantly surprising.

Before picture:

 

 After picture:

Facial features are now easily recognizable! Seriously though, if I am not wearing make-up, I am so pale that all you see are two eyes and some curly hair. The rest of my face is barely distinguishable from a white background.

So good luck, Carly! And if anyone out there is looking for some make-up or skin care items...I got your hookup.

Piddle, Twiddle, and Resolve

When I was a kid, my Mom instilled in me a love of music through the soundtracks of classic musicals. I remember riding in the car with her and listening to cassettes of various shows as we both sang along, me taking the soprano parts and her the alto. Cats, The Mikado, The Music Man, and 1776 were among my favorites. Of course, looking back now I feel sorry for my brother, who was trapped in a car with the two of us constantly singing...but that's what happens when you are the only dude in a family of ladies.

The point of this reminiscing is that I was very excited when a friend sent me an email asking if I was interested in seeing a production of 1776 at Ford's Theater. For those who are unfamiliar, 1776 is a musical about the signing of the Declaration of Independence and the Continental Congress. The main character, future President John Adams, wheels and deals and by force of will alone manages to convince Congress to declare themselves independent from England. Ben Franklin and Thomas Jefferson are also along for the ride.

I don't think I can understate the importance the movie version of 1776 had on me as a kid. And yes, I realize confessing that makes me a GIANT NERD, but hey y'all already knew that. Basically, the movie got me interested in history and paved the way for a history major in college. And speaking of college, the whole reason I went to William and Mary was because of 1776 and the following exchange:

John Adams: Mr. Jefferson? It so happens that the word is UN-alienable, not IN-alienable. 

Thomas Jefferson: I'm sorry, Mr. Adams, but "Inalienable" is correct. 

John Adams: I happen to be a Harvard graduate, Mr. Jefferson. 

Thomas Jefferson: Well, I attended William & Mary. 

Oh, snap! Colonial style.

The point of this diatribe is that I have very strong feelings about 1776. And I am pleased to say that seeing it live was thrilling, fun, and amazing. We are very fortunate here in the DC-area to have amazing local theater companies. In fact, the only thing about the evening that wasn't perfect were the annoying 8th graders sitting in front of me and the fact that I find Ford's Theater kind of creepy.

And this is the famous Ford's theater and that box is where the greatest man in American history had his brains blown out. See? CREEPY.

If you haven't seen 1776 yet, I suggest you immediately go to Netflix and check it out. The more I learned about the actual history of the colonial era, the more I learned how weirdly accurate the movie is in terms of how all these men related to one another and were forced to compromise to lay the foundations for the country we have today.  You'll also come out of it with even more appreciation for Ben Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, and especially John Adams.

Oh, and it has Mr. Feeney (from Boy Meets World)! And Gwyneth Paltrow's Mom.

 

You can keep your Paul Giamatti and whatever other lame John Adams you want to throw at me. William Daniels is the one and only. Trust.

Speak Up for the sake of Burlesque, Pie, and Women Everywhere!

The following happened during a fun night on the town when me and my girls hit H street to see Epic Win Burlesque. It's burlesque so it's all sexy and fun, but then it's nerdy burlesque so it doesn't make us seem too cool--though there is never much danger of that.

You're probably wondering what makes something nerdy burlesque. Basically the costumes the ladies wear (and then remove) are pop culture/fantasy/sci-fi/video-game themed. So I am delighted to tell you that I have seen Seven of Nine, Lara Croft, the Joker, and a Honey Badger remove their clothing in a sexy manner. One lady also came out dressed as Pennywise the Clown from Stephen King's IT, but please believe me when I tell you it was very much on the scary spectrum rather than sexy.

After the show we wandered down to Dangerously Delicious Pies because 1) that's what you do on H street in DC and 2) watching ladies take off their clothes makes my friends want pie. Rachel and I decided to wait outside the shop since we had already had our pie and we didn't want to wait in the long line.

(enter drunk college assholes, stage left).

Drunk College Asshole 1: OMG, I am so drunk and I want pie.

Drunk College Assholes 2 and 3: YEAH PIE DUDE I LOVE PIE!

Drunk College Asshole 1: Hey, look! There's a giant bell over next to where that ginger girl is harmlessly texting and chatting to her friend!

(Drunk College Asshole 1 staggers over to the bell and begins ringing it loudly, and then manages to elbow ginger girl (me) in the head)

Me: OWWWW.

Drunk College Asshole 1: Oh, sorry the bell is so loud!

Rachel: I think it was less the bell ringing and more the fact that you ELBOWED HER IN THE HEAD.

Me: Yeah!

Drunk College Asshole 1: Oh, I'm sorry!

(Drunk College Assholes 2 and 3 see the commotion and teeter on over)

Drunk College Asshole 2: You hit her in the head, you should say you're sorry!

Drunk College Asshole 3: Give her a kiss to say you are sorry!

(Drunk College Asshole 1 moves to take Me's arm...and I don't know, try to kiss me? Pat me? Whatever. At this point Me remembers reading a most excellent blog post from years ago by Sarah Bunting about how women are trained to keep quiet and not raise a fuss, which usually works against them in situations where men feel they can paw/grope/assault/rape and otherwise take advantage of them. So Me decides in that second that NO WAY IN HELL is something like that happening in this circumstance. BTW, isn't it amazing how much information your brain can process in less than a second?)

Me: Do. Not. Touch. Me.

Drunk College Asshole 1: I just wanted to say that I was sor...

Me: GET AWAY FROM ME.

Drunk College Asshole 2 and 3: We just....

Me: GET AWAY FROM ME NOW.

(Drunk College Assholes run away down the street, the pie forgotten).

And scene.

I think I did pretty well with no exaggerating that exchange there, though Rachel will have to be the objective judge.

Now let's be clear: I wasn't afraid these guys were going to actively hurt me. We were standing on a crowded street with lots of people walking by and my friends standing about 5 feet away. And they were clearly just drunken college assholes who were in command of maybe 33% of their mental facilities. But you know what? These guys did not have the right to hit me in the head, try to grab my arm, or otherwise hassle me and my friend. And sometimes you need to just speak up. People who know me would probably say that I never had trouble speaking up, but I think it's true that most of the time people (and by people I mean women and by women I mean me) don't want to make a fuss or a scene. Nothing was probably going to happen and the probably would have just wandered away on their own after a few more awkward attempts at conversation.

But that doesn't really matter. Because I don't need to put up with that and neither do you. Don't ever be afraid to speak up.

Throw Momma from the casino.

I travel a lot, but I usually travel with friends. Sometimes I will take my Mom somewhere or go with her to visit my brother in LA, but I don't think I ever gone anywhere with my friends AND my Mom.

There's a first time for everything.

It all started when Chris and I were having a gchat conversation about how we needed to go to Atlantic City. We go about once a year for a weekend of slots and relaxation. Our casino of choice is Harrah's on the Marina, home of the large indoor pool with luxe cabanas available for rental. For a reasonable fee (that includes all your food and alcohol (!!!)), you can lounge poolside with a personal television, iPod doc, and servers at your beck and call. Now that's the way to live.

I was hanging out with my Mom on a typical Wednesday evening (before having dinner at my Dad's), and I mentioned that we had planned an Atlantic City trip for the end of April. Mom crossed her arms, got that wistful look in her eyes, and I knew a story was coming. Turns out her mom used to the kids to the Maryland shore on the weekends where they could slip some coins into the slots. Apparently the casino didn't enforce the age restrictions in the good old days. Mom waxed poetic about how she used to love the slots as a kid...and before I knew it, she was coming up to Atlantic City with me, Chris, and Kent for an early birthday weekend!

I wasn't really concerned about it--I know that Chris and Kent adore my Mom and she loves them just as much...but still. We are silly and crazy and I wasn't sure if Mom would appreciate our brand of humor or find it all a little much to handle. Turns out, she thought we were hilarious (and also silly and crazy) but pretty much rolled with the punches. I think it helps that we're not exactly party animal and were in bed by 10:00 each night so it's not like we tired her out.

Pauly D (I think from MTV's Jersey Shore *gag*) was performing at the late night pool club the first evening we arrived, so the casino was packed to the gills with trashy Jersey types and their gold chains, hooka heels, and vast amounts of hair gel. An ill-timed thrown match probably could have sent the whole place up. But we certainly got a lot of comedic mileage out of mocking them. Sometimes behind their backs, but most often to their face.

I don't think Mom was particularly impressed with the new type of slots. Apparently most of the draw for her was putting in the coins and then pulling the handle--and you can't do that anymore. It's all automated and the machines only take bills. Plus, the casinos still allow smoking in most of the areas, and she's pretty sensitive to that. But we still played our $10 and had a good time. We didn't hit the big payout, but playing for almost an hour on $10 is nothing to scoff at! Well, fine you can scoff at our cheapness but whatever.

I think the most fun was the cabana rental, nothing makes you feel more posh than lounging poolside with a cocktail in your hand. Chris and I were determined to make the most of our drink credit, and were both drunk by 11 in the morning on Sunday. To her credit, Mom didn't judge at all and seemed to enjoy how I staggered off to the restroom. And we got sucked into successive bad movies on TNT (after Law and Order ended of course) to keep us busy.

What? We were on a mini-break!

As the end of the day approached we still had some money left on our bar credit, so we enlisted the aid of our server to find deserving people around the pool to treat to drinks anonymously. We thought of ourselves as benevolent gods looking down from high and blessing the plebeians with free alcohol. We got two honeymooning couples (whom we could see by peeking through the curtains around the cabana were thrilled to get the drinks) and an older couple who also seemed excited. Our server, Lauren, also got into it and scoured the pool deck for people who seemed nice. No Jersey douchebags were getting our charity!

It was a fun two and a half days and I think a nice change of pace for Mom. Sometimes you just need to get away to a change of scenery, you know? And it certainly made me appreciative to get back to Virginia, a land where most people know how to properly apply make-up, button their shirts, and not overly tease their hair.

Maggie vs. The Jellyfish

It turns out that I got a little distracted from my Costa Rica blogging. First, my uncle (Dad and Aunt Kim's brother) got really sick and I had to drive up to New Jersey to do the whole hospital-waiting thing. Side note--I HATE the hospital-waiting thing. It looked like he might pull through, but unfortunately he passed away about two weeks after the initial scare. It was very sudden and I didn't really feel like posting about vacations at the time.

I also go distracted by another trip, this time to California to visit my brother, my sister-in-law, and my new nephew, James! That is the subject of another post and now that things are finally starting to calm down again...back to Costa Rica!

When you last left this intrepid explorer, I had been traveling around Costa Rica's northwest coast going to beautiful beaches. And guess what? This post is more of the same! You would think after a while you would get tired of beaches, but it turns out each one has it's own little pleasures and is different from all the others.

For our next sojourn, we decided to stay a little closer to home. Playa Hermosa (meaning "beautiful beach") was only about 5 minutes from our house and thankfully not crowded. I wouldn't say that it was strictly the most beautiful beaches of all the ones we visited, the sand was kind of coarse and grey colored, but it wasn't crowded, and it has the distinction of being the first place I have ever kayaked!

That's right, I, Maggie of the infamous poor balance, went kayaking! Here's the thing--it was a lot easier than I expected. I envisioned kayaking as when you have to sit in those long canoe things that cover you up to your waist and if you tipped over you could drown if you couldn't right yourself. Needless to say, I was never really interested in kayaking.

I was, however, assured by my traveling companions and by the folks at the water sports rental place that there were other kayaking options. In fact, there are very nice open dual kayaks that require little or no skill (perfect for me!) so I decided what the hell and went for it. Turns out I wasn't too shabby, and it was really fun. Especially the parts where we went fast. I like going fast!

You know the difference between you and me? I make this look good.

 Mac and his Mom are ready for kayaking adventure.

Oh, and it turns out the hardest part of kayaking is remembering which part of the beach holds the rental place. It kind of all looks the same from 200 yards out. Good thing someone in our group was paying attention.

 

 Check it out, I am kayaking!

Playa Hermosa

After our kayaking adventure, we sat on the beach for a while and then went in the water for a dip. And then it was MAGGIE vs. THE JELLYFISH. There I was, in about waist-deep water, minding my own business and BAM! Something whipped across my leg and it burned. Oh, how it burned. I ran out of the water to get a look at the damage, and I already had the beginnings of a large welt across my entire right thigh. Luckily we had some "after burn" style treatment that I put on it and while the pain never got too bad, it was a constant burning reminder of how nature can sometimes REALLY SUCK. Oh, and it turns our aloe (like you would put on a sunburn) is awesome at treating jellyfish stings. And it's a good thing too since in another two days we had a big horse-riding and zip-line adventure planned and I kind of needed my thigh.

 I think the Jellyfish won this round. And I am not all that eager for a rematch.

 Is it possible that there are more beaches that we haven't visited? Would my leg heal in time for horseback riding? And who is Rosita and why did I want to smuggle her home in my bag? Stay tuned for the answers!

California Gurls

You guys aren't going to believe this, but I think I might be a baby person.

Well, let's not get carried away. I'm a baby person when it comes to babies in my family.

Finding this out was something of a surprise for me; I never thought I had any kind of affinity with or towards babies, in fact I just don't have much experience with them at all. I'm the youngest person in my immediate family and haven't spent a lot of time around my friends' children. I always thought of babies as something that were utterly adorable in the abstract, but a major inconvenience in reality. I also figured I would be like Miranda in Sex and the City: I would love my own children to bits, but other people's kids would just get on my nerves.

Well, after spending a week with my nephew James I can say that sharing DNA with the kid appears to make all the difference because I became a baby-lover for sure. I wanted to hold him, feed him, read to him, play with him, basically everything except change the diaper because that's what parents are for, amiright?

 Aunt Maggie and James!

 And the most surprising part: he seemed to like me right back. He would coo and smile and would let me hold and feed him without a fuss. I was also shocked by how "with it" he seemed for six months. He loved to reach and grasp things and kick and try to move around. He has a huge noggin so he wasn't quite ready to hold up his own head, but it was clear he was a three year old trapped in a three month old body. I could tell that James just wanted to jump up and run and dance and color and read....but he's just not quite there yet.

'Sup world.

But don't think that I went all the way to LA and only played with the baby (thought that was the clear highlight). I'm fortunate to have a bunch of friends that ended up in the LA are so my brother moving out there was very convenient as it guaranteed I would get out there a couple times a year and be able to catch up with peeps from high school, college, and even people I met after I started working downtown.

Saturday night we all gathered at a bar in Universal City (near Universal Studios, of course) and had some drinks, food, and some impromptu dancing when Footloose came on. I mean, it's Footloose. You can't just sit there, right? And then I had the brilliant idea that we needed to get a picture of us all jumping in the air which turned into kind of a disaster.

But we FINALLY got one of us all in the air!

 After chilling at the bar, we went back to my friend Patrick's place for some good old-fashioned Saturday night B-movies. You thought I was going to say something different didn't you? The SyFy channel is always there for you when it need it, and we enjoyed Swamp Volcano and Stonehenge Apocalypse. You should actually look up Stonehenge Apocalypse. It's kind of amazing.

And the fun didn't even end there! My sister-in-law Amanda's brother and his wife flew down from San Francisco for the weekend so we could go to a small club on Friday night and see Felicia Day (from Buffy and The Guild) and her improv group perform. Not to sound like too much of a nerd, but it felt like kind of a quintessential LA thing to do and the show was pretty funny. We even liked the opening act, a group called Lost Moon Radio, that had a truly epic rap about the awesomeness of Jane Austen.

 Hammer Improv

 Felicia Day, sadly out of practice at Improv.

 Me and Katie outside Torrance High School where Buffy the Vampire Slayer was filmed. We're giving out best slayer poses.

 In the end, I was sad to leave but I was reassured by the fact that I would be back in about 7 weeks when Mom and I got back to LA for her birthday in April. More family, friends, and beautiful weather...yay!

Party Bus MOTHERFUCKERS!

We interrupt your regularly scheduled Costa Rican vacation coverage (which I swear I am going to get back to soon) to bring you this important news update:

I AM NOW 32 YEARS OLD.

I know, shocking right? How did this happen? I guess 32 years went by when I wasn't looking.

There's only one way to celebrate such a momentous occasion. PARTY BUS, MOTHERFUCKERS!

That's right! This past Saturday night we loaded up a Kegbus (delightfully tacky) with 20 or so peeps and hit the mean streets of DC. The bus came complete with a sound system, cooler and sink, and dance poles--though the company dubbed them "safety poles." HA, yeah right.

Selvi had the brilliant idea of making a scavenger hunt for us, and our first stops were by the Washington Monument and Jefferson Memorial. We took some fun pictures and enjoyed some beautiful scenery before we made some more stops at a pub and Ben's Chili Bowl. By that point, the scavenger hunt had kind of broken down, so we just spent the rest of the night driving around downtown and dancing on the bus. As God intended.

I can't remember having a funner time; what could be better than rocking out with your best friends to Lady Gaga, having people lick alcoholic whip cream off you all night (seriously), and watching your friends rock the "safety pole." Special shout out to Carly and Mike for their sweet pole moves. Not a euphemism.

But a picture is worth a thousand words, right?

 On the bus and ready for action!

 On the outside it looks like a regular school bus, but don't be fooled....

There might be another job in Mike's future...

 Someone really liked that whip cream...

Dancing and hanging on for dear life! 

The danger made it all worth it.

Playa de Coco and Playa Conchal

Our second full day in Costa Rica dawned just like the previous one, with a bright sun and a strong breeze. Well, to be honest, our first day dawned with more of a gale force, but according to the locals it can get really windy during the dry season and thankfully the second morning was much more manageable.

Rather than laze around ALL day, we decided to only laze around MOST of the day, and after making my way through most of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (I can't imagine a better way to spend a vacation), we headed down the road to Playa de Coco, a larger town and beach than the closer Playa Hermosa.

I was pleasantly surprised by how developed the town was; there were several shopping centers and a huge grocery store that we managed to visit every day. As we got closer to the beach, the street became lined with souvenir shops and run-down dive bars. There were tons more locals than tourists, in fact, during our entire visit I was surprised by the low number of tourists. It was nice to just mingle among the Ticos (Costa Ricans) and pretend to fit in. As much as a pasty white ginger can fit in around Costa Rica.

Self-portrait at Playa de Coco

The main square of all Costa Rican towns is comprised of a soccer field across from the Catholic Church. In Playa de Coco the church was a bright green and there was a make-shift parking lot next to the soccer field. A local man told us he would "watch our car" for a small fee, so we gave him some dollars and crossed our fingers. It seemed safer than NOT paying him, after all. 

We wandered along the main drag ducking into various shops and comparing prices. All the prices were in dollars and all the shop-owners spoke passable English, so shopping was as easy as falling off a log. And for me that is very easy indeed.

Playa de Coco's main street

 

 The green church!

After about an hour of walking around the town and on the beach, we headed down a side road that paralleled the beach to our dinner spot, Cafe de Playa. It was attached to small but nice hotel, and after a short walk through some lush tropical plants, we emerged to an open restaurant and bar. We had appetizers and drinks on some couches right next to the beach, and watched the sun set behind the hills sheltering the beach. Then we moved "indoors" for our meal which I am happy to report was delicious.

 

 

 Appetizers on the lawn/beach!

 

 Sunset at Playa de Coco

The next day is when the real adventure began--we took our first day trip to the slightly hidden beach of Playa Conchal. I say hidden because you can't actually reach it by a real road. You have drive to another beach town (Playa Brasilito) and then find a narrow road (i.e. path) that takes you across the Brasilito Beach and over a steep rocky incline. And then BAM! You have arrived at Playa Conchal--a beautiful white beach that is made of a mix of sand and soft crushed shells.

Set back from the beach under the trees were locals providing all kinds of touristy activities; water sports, horseback riding, ATV tours, etc. My friend Mac and his father, Paul, got some horses and took off for a tour of the beach and surrounding area while Mac's mom, Peggy, and I relaxed on the beach.

After the boys got back, we went back over the hill and went swimming at Playa Brasilito. The water there was much calmer than at Playa Conchal, and the guidebook warned that Conchal can have a bit of a rip-tide. I'm almost as afraid of rip-tides as I am of jellyfish*. For the most part, Brasilito was very nice to swim in; the water wasn't very cold, though not exactly warm, and the bottom of the ocean was smooth and sandy. Except for the ONE patch of jagged rocks that a wave managed to knock me onto cutting my toe. Thanks, ocean.

The boys on their horses.

 

  Playa Conchal: the South end

 Playa Conchal: the north end

And thus ended our first real adventure! We felt like trail-blazers having found a semi-hidden beach, although I can't really describe it as secluded since the Westin resort backs right into it and there were lots of people about. But still! We were adventurers!

Coming up next time: Maggie vs. the Sea Monster




*FORESHADOWING!