BEST May 39th EVER

On Thursday, Em, Phillip, Suz and I went to see May 39th, one of the Capital Fringe festival shows. I had originally thought the play was called something along the lines of "The Big Orange" because the playbill featured a big orange, but it turns out that the actual title is a date that doesn't exist. Anyway, what had originally intrigued me about this play was the tag line, which was "1000 Years From Now, Dating in DC will Still Blow Chunks", so much so that I neglected to even look at the correct title of the play.

So the volunteer tokens got cashed in and off we went, fringing our Thursday night away. The premise of the play is the awkward morning after encounter between a guy and a girl in the year 3006 in DC. They wake up in the same bed, and have to try to figure out where things will go from there in the crazy 3006 world of logging in, purple exemptions, clones, and pods. Despite all of these futuristic things, the essence of the awkward morning after remains. The internal struggle to either let yourself fall for someone in a city that is focused on not making concessions for anyone or anything, the desperate need for some alone time to sort things out (why aren't you leaving?!?!), etc.

And of course, the playbill with the orange is explained by one of the very best lines in the show, "I brought you oranges. I don't do that for just anyone".

Now this alone would make it a pretty interesting play, but at the very end, there is a huge twist, a twist that I didn't see coming. It surprised me, and at the same time made me very sad.

Having said that, you should really go see this show if you have a chance to. Happy Fringe!

BEST Jacksonville EVER

I know that many people out there say that life is about the journey, rather than the destination. A few weeks ago, as we sped down I-95 through east juhnunga Virginia at 4 am, life seemed to be more about the destination, rather than the actual journey.

The destination was Jacksonville, Florida.

I had all of these grand designs for my trip to Jacksonville, including getting a sunburn, going to the beach, seeing the Modis building, drinking lots of coffee, and checking out Amelia Island.

However, the city of Jacksonville had different ideas for me. Which is how I found myself at Jacksonville's Premiere Waste Facility...Southland Waste Systems. One of the highlights of my trip (aside from breakfast at the Waffle House) was my visit to Southland Waste Systems, where they have not had an accident in 000 days. The folks there were kind enough to let me pretend that I was a garbage woman, something up until that pointI have never had any desire to do. But after wandering around the garage and then as I stood in front of the garbage truck in the 110 degree heat I realized something. I wanted a picture on the truck.

In fact, I think my excitement over the trip to the facility sort of amused them, (she wants to take a picture on the truck?? Why?) because they were kind enough to let me wear a hard hat and a neon vest to get the authenticate garbage man experience.

BEST My Cousins Wedding EVER

One of the great institutions of summer is "my cousins wedding". In recent memory, it seems as if though each summer one of my friends has had a "my cousins wedding" to attend. This summer, it was my turn. This past weekend, my cousin got married in Albany, NY. Generally, large scale family events such as these tend to leave me exhausted, because there are hours of polite conversation, (Yes, I do like DC. Yes, the city is horribly expensive. No, I probably will never own a home here. The weather there has been unbearable lately, how has it been here? Oh, you know someone who lives in DC.... (why is it that everyone I meet knows someone else who lives in this city?!?!) The upstate summers are very nice. Work is going well, I like it, No I'm not dating anyone just now, which is always answered with a "You'll meet "someone" - I'm under the impression that the entire nation aside from the DC metro area is crawling with "someones" just ready to meet and marry me so that I can inflict a family event on my relatives) After the dinner, the polite conversation mercifully gave way to some serious boozing thanks to the open bar. And booze we did.

Now, I had always had the impression that my family was pretty straightlaced. It turns out that this impression was due to the fact that the majority of family events I have attended up until this point in time did not feature an open bar. My personal highlight of the reception occurred while I was talking to my parents (by the bar while we were waiting for yet another vodka and club).

This random cousin (a cousin of my cousin who I can count on one hand the number of times I've talked to), runs up to me, grabs my arm like we're drunken sophomores and screams, "Kimmmmm! You HAVE to come dance!!!" as the opening bars of "Paradise by the Dashboard Lights" begin she squeals, "It's MEAT LOAF!!!!!!!".

And I'm proud to say, that in this moment of sheer confusion and excitement and screaming, I did what any drunken Figel would do. I ran with her to the dance floor and proceeded to take part in the boys versus girls dance off to the entire thirteen minutes of Paradise by the Dashboard Lights. I like to think that that the painful experience of watching the Meatloaf dance off spectacle helped add to the festivities by making everyone drink a wee bit more heavily. No matter how drunk I was, I know that during those 13 magical moments, the dance floor was not a pretty scene.

After we shut down the reception (which ended around 8 pm), the party continued with some crazy family filled (which featured both old family, and new family gained that day via the wedding) after hours fun which involved pizza and more vodka. By this point, my Dad and sister had faltered and retired to their hotel rooms to get some sleep (and sober up)However, Mom* and I continued to live strong, calling an end to the evening, as the party was winding down around hour 10 of drinking.

And that was my "My Cousins Wedding"

BEST Fringe EVER

(Sorry this is longer than usual. We were getting lazy with our postings, so I decided to make up for it in one.)

You know how you always see elderly folks with the best jobs? Well, they are generally volunteering, but still. They are always ushering people around major sporting events or handing out programs at theatre events. Whatever the case may be, they have a pretty sweet deal. And as luck would have it, I just received my first insight into what it is going to feel like in 40 years when I am volunteering at one of these events.

While I do not consider myself a performer (unless you count the times I've had a few too many cocktails and I like to think my hips don't lie), I am definitely a supporter of the Arts. On Sunday night, I was given the opportunity to help the Performing Arts community by volunteering at the inaugural Capital Fringe Festival. In case you have not picked up the Post over the past week, the Fringe Festival is a culmination of about 100 performances over an 11-day period. Apparently other major cities have hosted Fringe Festivals, such as NYC and Phili, but it had yet to make it to the nation's capital. It consists of all sorts of acts, ranging from original plays to dance to music. To a creepy Cirque du Soleil-esqe show. To an even creepier magic show. To the creepiest of all, a mime performance. You get the picture, they have a lot of shows.

You may be thinking, well the Kennedy Center and National Theater cannot possibly host all of these performances. You are correct. As it turns out, we have this "theatre district," which seems to extend mighty far up 7th Street. This was all news to me. On countless occasions, I have been around the Verizon Center area (generally for pomegranate margaritas at Rosa Mexicano), but I never spent much time gallivanting around this alleged "theatre district." This all changed on Sunday night.

I arrived at the Warehouse Mainstage (7th and M) to receive my volunteer assignment. After I threw on the stylish volunteer shirt provided, I was given my instructions:
Volunteer coordinator: You will work the box office at the Woolly Mammoth Theatre at 7th and D. The tickets are already there for you.
Me: Ummm, okay. Alone?
Volunteer Coordinator: Yes. You attended the training, right?
Me: No. (What? You train for this sort of thing?)
Volunteer coordinator:
Me: Hehe. I'm a fast learner.

And off I went. Alone.

About ten blocks later, I arrived and handled the box office. Alone. After the show began, I walked back ten blocks and delivered the money and leftover tickets. And here's the kicker, I'm given a free pass to see any show during the festival as a "thank-you" for my shift. Man, this is one awesome volunteer gig.

Since I had a couple more hours to spare, I was assigned to work the Front of House for another show at the Canadian Embassy, which is located at about 3rd and C. So off I walk another 12 or so blocks. And, without any formal training, I managed to successfully rip the tickets in half. I know what you're thinking, "Wow, she's a miracle worker." It's true.

About 20 minutes into the show, I walked back the twelve blocks to officially check-out at the volunteer station. And, again, I am given a free pass to a show. And thanked profusely for my time.

So, here I am. I own a rockin' tee that commemorates the inaugural Capital Fringe Festival, I have two passes to see a show (with Kimmmm this week), I walked about five miles in the gorgeous weather, and I heard a lot about the "must sees" of Fringe Festival. Oh, and they are unbelievably appreciative of the volunteers.

Needless to say, I am looking forward to volunteering again on Tuesday night. Kimmmm and I will be seeing a show or two later this week, and we'll try to post about our first Fringe experience. Even if it pales in comparison to watching my drunken impression of Shakira's hips.*

*Unrelated to this post, except for the hip-shaking comments: A woman was purchasing her ticket at the box office and did a double-take at me. This is more common than you think, based on the number of times I've been told I look "just like …..” Seriously, I'm beginning to believe I share the same face with 85% of the World's population. Anyhow, this woman says, "oh, you were at the belly dancing class." I was not. But wouldn't it make me that much cooler if I was?

Here's to the Fringe Fest….a mighty spectacular addition to our city. Oh, and if you've seen anything that you either recommend to see or not to see, please leave a comment!

BEST Ducking Tour EVER

I recently experienced what may be the single most ridiculous form of transportation ever invented. The DC Ducktour. At first glance of this boat-car hybrid, the average spectator would assume, "surely you do not utilize both of these forms of transportation." Ahhhh, but you do.

These boats-on-wheels have been fully restored from the 1942 DUKWs used to transport supplies from ships to areas that did not have port facilities after WWII. Based on our maximum speed of what seemed to be 7 mph, I'm pretty sure the supplies are just now making it over there.

Our tour guide, self-titled Captain Nemo, cruised down Pennsylvania Ave. as he announced the various landmarks. I guess I was misled into believing that the Capitol building, the Washington Monument, and the Lincoln Memorial were the major landmarks to point out to tourists. For I just learned that the Department of Labor, IRS, trees, hospitals for the criminally insane, smokestacks, and little old houses are also worthy of a DC tour.

We eventually approach the glorious Potomac, where most tours would logically make a U-turn and head back to Union Station. Not this tour. We journeyed straight into the water at which point the vehicle was set afloat. And by float, I mean the water was eye-level with the passengers. Coasting at a cool 4 mph, we drifted near Reagan National Airport to watch planes depart. Apparently this can only be witnessed in the nation's capital, and thus, deemed necessary for the DC Ducktour. That being said, most passengers pulled out their cameras to actually document this rare occasion of airplanes (gasp!) flying. Of the 90 minute tour, we spent about 30 minutes staring at the airport.

Did I mention that it was 103-degrees during this tour? Yes, I sat in an open-air tour on the very first Code Red day since 2004. We rode around on a giant boat on wheels that sucked down 900 gallons per mile on the first free-bus-ride-so-you-do-not-drive-and-add-to-global-warming day. Lucky for us, they provided us with those manual fans. You know, the piece of paper stapled to a stick that you feverishly wave in your face in an effort to cool down? Yeah, that was effective.

The crowd-pleasing moment of the tour had absolutely nothing to do with the actual city. Half way through the tour, Captain Nemo handed out little rubber beaks to everyone that would simulate a quacking noise when you blew into them like a kazoo. Let the games begin. He gave us the ground rules-- no quacking while he's yapping, but other than that, quack your little hearts out. And so we did. We quacked at police cars, quacked at foreign tourists, quacked at the protesters, quacked at frightened children. We quacked like we've never quacked before. Well, most of the boat quacked. I was a weak quacker.

I must say, it is a pretty ducking hilarious way to see the city.

Please note that I attended the DC Ducktours strictly as a recruiting event at work. Not out of freewill. Nonetheless, I found a great deal of enjoyment entertainment in it.

BEST Java EVER!

Here in the DC metro area, the temperature has reached record highs – nearing the 100 mark, which means that it feels like 1100 out. As someone who grew up in the part of New York that is almost Canada, I’m not designed for these extreme temperatures. Experts recommend that to “beat the heat”, you not engage in any activity which involves moving. If you are thinking about moving, it’s recommended that you use plenty of sunscreen and consume at least 32 ounces of water an hour to stay hydrated. Obviously, doing much of anything was completely out of the question on Sunday – the idea of going to Eastern Market, or into the city to walk around had come up in discussion, but were promptly dismissed because us here at Best Summer Evah wanted to have a summer that didn't involve a trip to the hospital for heat stroke.

That’s right – the weather forced me to legitimately relax. I usually relax in my meticulously planned out way which involves going on long bike rides or walks, seeing monuments, checking out something that was written up about in the post, or otherwise gallivanting about the DC metro area. The heat killed my agenda. With my fair western New York skin and history of sunburns, I knew that relaxing by the pool at our place was completely out of the question, which was just as well, because the one time that I had been down there before it was a disturbing mix of Romper Room and MTV Spring Break.

I decided to read. I grabbed my book (Kimmmm’s summer reading : Portrait of a Lady, Henry James) and headed out in search of a coffee house that wasn’t Starbucks and had a shaded patio. I found perfection at Java in Arlington, which was located close to my apartment (I did hydrate and sunscreen up before leaving the house). After a huge mango smoothie for and a few hours lazily reading in the shade, I can say that I truly did relax on Sunday afternoon and as an added bonus found a cool new place to hang out.

So I lift my mango smoothie as a toast to this heat wave… may it pass quickly!

BEST Lejeune EVER

We finally managed to find a place in Arlington that was not crawling with popped-collars and hoed-out sorostitutes. Somehow, they managed to miss Galaxy Hut.
With a capacity of only 48 and a sign made out of construction paper, Galaxy Hut is the one place in Arlington that you can be assured you will not be groped on a Saturday night. The fratty boys and sorostitutes have left this gem alone.

Luckily we stumbled upon it, and managed to catch Lejeune, a DC indie-rock band with a pretty sweet sound. We rocked out to Moon-Shy City and Kubusaki Ha'i. You can download a few of their songs at their site (click on the link above).

If we haven't sold you on the live music (we heard two bands for only a $5 cover), they also have Miss Pac-Man you can play at your table.
Could you ask for anything more?

We thought not. Catch you next weekend at the Hut.

Both Emmmm and Kimmmm contributed to this posting at 1:49 AM.

BEST South of the Border EVER

Phillip and I took a road trip to Jacksonville, FL a few weekends ago. It involved leaving at 2 am and spending 23 hours in the car. Now while this sounds wretched, it actually was sort of fun, namely because Phillip is the best person to take road trips with. His car is manual, which I don’t know how to drive. So literally, I was a passenger for 23 hours (12 getting there, 11 getting home) which did not result in any speeding tickets. To pass time we did all sorts of things that included belting out the entire Janis Joplin greatest hits album, exclaiming over undying ipods, keeping a verbal diary, reading passages outloud from “1000 Places to See Before You Die”, making our own list of 100 Things to See in the DC Metro Area, discussing the decline of American civilization, global warming, and the sad state of public education (and nothing else).

By far though, my favorite activity in the car was billboard reading, which once we crossed the North Carolina line, was a thrill a second. There were billboards for places like Cracker Barrel, Hampton Inn’s, Car Dealerships, Christians, JR’s Smoke Shop, etc. Among all of these however, there was one clear standout: The South of the Border Billboards, which featured stereotypical Mexican “Pedro” who could only be more stereotypical if there were flies buzzing around him (he already had a burro), and touted the wonderful things that South of the Border holds for the wayward I-95 passengers.

Needless to say, after 3 hours of South of the Border billboards on the way to Jacksonville (including a few “You passed South of the Border! Turn Back”), and two and a half hours of South of the Border billboards as we headed back to DC, I spent more time than I’m willing to admit lobbying for us to stop at South of the Border. As we approached the exit, Phillip rolled his eyes and sighed*. He pulled the car into Pedro-Land, looked at me and said “No more than 15 minutes”.

Now, South of the Border is not a 15 minute stop. It has a sombrero you can ride in, roller coasters, a café, gas station, leather shop (awkward), Africa store, T-shirt store, camping grounds, motor homes. Anyway, since I only had 15 minutes, I had to prioritize. I bought a green t-shirt for $8.95 and soaked up as much American kitsch as I possibly could with my limited amount of time which was not enough to take a ride in the giant sombrero (which I am not bitter about at all). I think Phillip started to enjoy himself a bit, as he purchased a plethora of shot glasses, ashtrays, etc.

As we drove away, and I pulled my newly acquired shirt over my head and South of the Border faded away in the rear view mirror, I noticed something. The T-shirt I had bought came with a stain already on it.

*Phillips grumpiness may have been exagerated for dramatic purposes

BEST "Am I in Buffalo?" EVER

Throughout the three years I've known Kimmmm, we've encountered a few changes here and there. Our residence, favorite hangouts, crushes, haircolor. But two things have remained constant: Our crush on Matt Lauer and Kimmm's undying love for Wegmans.

Kimmm's love stemmed from the Transit Road Wegmans, which employed not one, but two Figels. (Note: Wegmans ranked #1 on Fortune's 2005 "Best Companys to Work For" list).
Shelia (her little sis) graduated from Wegmans' acclaimed Produce University, and today, she can hand-select a ripe pineapple with the best of them.
Meanwhile, Kimmmm has honed the bagging skills that are always nice to have if the whole "working for the man" falls through. You should see her in action when we're at a self-checkout line.
Of course, when we're at a full-service checkout line, I pity the baggers as Kimmmm casts a judging glare that reads, "Frozen goods stay with frozen goods! Heavy goods go on bottom! Double bag, always double bag!"
Actually, she just says, "I'll do it myself."

But Kimmmm was more than a faithful employee, she was a loyal customer. These days, she has been forced to slum it with the rest of us that get by without a Wegmans in the nation's capital. And I know she dies a little inside each time she passes an unorganized produce display. The horror! I, however, have been getting by just fine with the grocery options available. But then again, I had never set foot inside a Wegmans.

Until Monday.

I was heading out West to a barbecue. I'm not talking about Falls Church or Tysons Corner. I'm talking beyond Dulles. Well, my friend and I had to stop at the grocery store to pick up a few items and to my sheer amazement, we passed a Wegmans. Kimmmm has taught me that if I am ever given the opportunity to visit a Wegmans, I should undoubtedly do so. So I did.

Thousands of questions began running through my mind. Will this live up to the hype? Will I get lost inside? Will Danny Wegman be serving at Danny's Deli? Am I in Buffalo? (The car ride was pretty long, I might as well have been.) I ventured inside ready to be amazed. And I was. It really is an enormous Whole Foods, minus the whole "organic-only" thing.

I selected several nectarines and plums from the neatly assembled arrangement, using the techniques Sheila had previously demonstrated. Sadly I could not benefit from the other sections of the store as I would not return home for several hours and who wants to eat fresh baked bread or anything from a deli that has been sitting in a 120-degree car for 4 hours? Not this girl.

Later, when I returned home and shared my first Wegmans experience with Kimmm, she exclaimed, "this really IS your Best Summer Ever!"

Now all I have to do is develop an interest in hockey and befriend some Canadians. Then, I will have met the Buffalonian standards of a quality being.

BEST Joint Birthday Party EVER

Growing up, we always missed out on the fun of bringing cupcakes into school due to our summer birthdays, so this past Saturday, we made up for lost time and celebrated our recent birthdays (for the third consecutive weekend). It's all we could do to distract us from crying about our fading youth.

At one point during the night, we were in an extremely fratty bar in Georgetown where we had no business being in, and the following conversation took place:
Random girl: It's your birthday?
Emmmm: Yeah, we both have birthdays.
Random girl: How old are you if you don't mind me asking?
Emmmm: Too old to be here. 26 and 27.
Random girl: I'm older than that.

AWKWARD.

The tiaras we are sporting are thanks to Kimmm's mom, who stopped by with her friend and joined us for a drink (or two...).








We may be another year older, but we still know how to have a good time. Cheers!

BEST Return to Nature EVER

First off, a congratulations is in order for many major sporting events this past weekend:

• Italia, the World Cup champs
• Roger Federer (hubba hubba!) and Amelie Mauresmo, Wimbledon champs
• Trevor Immelman, the unknown that sunk a 32-foot putt to win his first PGA Tour tournament
• And some French guy that won the 6th stage of the Tour de France, but cheered for Italy in the World Cup. Um, if you want to gain support from your home country, shouldn't it be a no-brainer to cheer for France in the World Cup when you are from France and competing in a bike race in France?

Maybe it was the inspiration of watching sweaty foreign men running up and down a soccer field or perhaps it was listening to the deafening grunts of the Wimbledon matches, or maybe just maybe it was the fact we were given a break from the sweltering heat in the nation's capital. Whatever the reason, I decided to go jogging on Saturday morning. The minute I arrived back home, Kimmmm asked me if I'd be interested in returning to nature by hiking Great Falls. Why not? I just finished 6-miles, why not add a few more onto the day? Besides, this best summer ever ambition has been cutting into most routines, including exercise, so we have to jump on the opportunity for outdoor activity when it presents itself.

When we arrived at Great Falls (Maryland-side), we glanced over the different trails you can hike and decided on the Billy Goat Trail, which warns it is for experienced hikers only-- well, we've been walking for a good 25 years now, so yes, we are self-proclaimed experienced hikers.

So we set out along the difficult boulder trail and soon discovered we were not the only ones to take advantage of the outdoors that day. We saw many other hikers as well as a group of folks scaling the wall and a group of kayakers trying unsuccessfully to tackle a rapid.

As we continued on, we passed a park ranger scolding a younger boy, "You should not jump from rock to rock. If the rocks can't hold you, you will hurt yourself and I will have to do my job."

Number one. The kid is pushing 50-pounds tops. If the rocks can hold the ranger, they certainly can hold the kid.

Number two. Kids hurt themselves, he'll live.

Number three. This is not exactly Everest. This is an effing hiking trail. That's what you do. You have to leap to some of the rocks in order to progress along it.

Shortly thereafter, we passed a runner hurrying along the trail in the opposite direction, which apparently is permitted. To sum up: Leaping to the next rock, BAD. Running along the slippery rocks, GOOD. All in all, another great day spent in the DC metro area.

On Monday night, Kimmmm and I realized we had bruises from Saturday. The question remains if they resulted from the hike or from our belated birthday celebration later that evening….

Disclaimer: None of the photos shown on this post were actually taken by me. Of course, I wish I had been that close to Mr. Federer to snap that pic.

BEST Gomez EVER

So a while back, Emmmmm and I went to see a band called Gomez at the 9:30 Club in DC. So after a few pre-show cocktails at our place, and a strange strange cab ride (which should really be a post entirely in itself), Emmmmm and I find ourselves up on the second tier at 9:30 rocking out.

At one point during the show, one of the singers says, “Does anyone have britches* for (other band members name here)?” Which prompted the following very serious conversation:


*Gomez is from England, so they say things like “britches” without being laughed at.

Emmmm : “Why are we the only two raising our hands?”
Kimmm: We should throw something on the stage?
Emmmm : Bras?
Kimmmm: I’m wearing my only black one. I can’t give it up.
Emmmm: This is my only strapless one. Underwear?
Kimmm: I’m rocking the granny panties. No one wants to see that.
Emmmm: I don't want to give mine away. Shoes?
Kimmmm: Are shoes hot? They’re not very sexy.
Emmmm: Good point. Next time, we’ll bring a spare something to throw at the stage.

BEST Bonnaroo EVER

So, a few weeks ago, Sheila, Ming, Will and I headed down to Manchester, TN for four days of peace, love, happiness, and portajohns.... yes that's right, we went to Bonnaroo 06.

Sheila wrote a blog about it which best sums up the whole experience. Check it out here. It has the words "hippie poo" in it.


So the only question that remains is WHO IS COMING TO BONNAROO 2007 WITH US?

BEST Pyrotechnic Extravaganza EVER

After experiencing the burning of Valencia at Las Fallas this past March and all of the explosives associated with it, I was certain it would be a long time before I had the slightest yearning to see (or hear, rather) more fireworks. A long time turned out to be three months.

It was time to celebrate our nation's 230th birthday-- or, 230 years since we beat the crap out of England and declared our independence. My friend, Angela, and I packed up a "picnic" consisting of Odwalla juice and Sun Chips and walked over to the grassy knoll near the Iwo Jima Memorial, which in my opinion is the best-kept-secret to watching the DC fireworks. Not only does it provide a spectacular view of the monuments, but it is walkable from home and you avoid the massive crowds on the National Mall. I do realize that by sharing this with all ten of you that read our blog, I am taking a big chance at exposing the best-kept-secret.

Considering the torrential downpour in the early evening that left all of the fools spending the day on the Mall soaking wet, the show went on according to plan. There really is no better place to watch Fourth of July fireworks than in the Nation's Capital.

Happy Independence Day!!!

BEST Theme Music EVER

Thanks to the Lovin' Spoonful, we now have theme music to our Best Summer Ever! Turn up your volume to listen while you read about our Summer in the City.