Lockdown: the Georgetown Sequel

Back in April of the windowless era of Hogan & Hartson I wrote about my woes of the possibility of missing my lunch or dinner plans due to a bomb threat.

Fast forward three + years to an exterior office with windows.  And here I am  in the new-and-improved era of Georgetown Law sitting at my desk grateful for the fact today's lockdown didn't disturb my lunch plans (Friday is Craft Circle, which is very important you know). 

I got the pre-recorded phone message in the middle of a knitted stitch, looked around to see that everyone else was looking at their various electronic devices and comparing notes, thought, "hmm, a man on campus with a rifle, hmm, maybe I should get away from the windows....these booties are cute," and then went back to knitting and eating my cheesy baked macaroni. 

And I think I have to agree with my 2008 self.  Yes, everything really is about food.

Great Falls

My Mom was here visiting over the weekend.  It had been 9 months since we'd last seen here and it was wonderful to be able to spend time with her (even if it was only 4 short days!).

Our main project was recovering a Queen Anne Wingback chair that I'd snagged from one of our neighbors discard (read: trash) pile a while ago.  My Mom is nothing if not industrious and is brilliant at figuring things out - even how to correctly situate patterned fabric on a curved chair so that it all comes out right.  In a word, she's amazing. 

I'll post pictures of that transformation later.  But for now, here's a couple of photos from our visit to Great Falls on Sunday.  The weather was unseasonably hot and humid and you can tell from the pictures below that I was also unseasonably hot and humid as a result.

Speaking of Great Falls.  I saw one of the best I've ever seen last week.  I still get a giggle fit now and again thinking about it.  But before I tell you, please make an effort not to judge me.  Yes, I'm mean.  But it was so funny.

I walked out of the metro last week and saw a girl get ot her vespa and begin to pull away from the bike racks.  As she started slowly riding off, I noticed that her sweater was still caught in the bike rack and was unraveling as she went. 

Unravelling, unravelling, unravelling, until it hit a snag (or maybe a knot in the fabric).  And - I swear this was in slow motion- the snag snagged the girl and pulled her to the ground with her vespa on top of her.  It was a situation straight out of the Three Stooges.  And here I was thinking that that type of slap-stick situational comedy didn't actually happen in real life.

I wanted to burst out laughing on the spot.

But before you think me totally depraved and indecent, I can assure you that I held my giggle and ran up to her to make sure she was ok.  She was fine.  Not a scratch on her even.  She was, however, extremely embarrassed and a little huffy that I'd asked her if she wanted help in righting her scooter.

Reality TV

This photo is making the rounds online and I couldn't agree with it more.  Though, I'd probably change it to say: "A book commits suicide every time you watch reality TV."

And no, Jeopardy does not count as reality TV.

A reason to pat myself on the back.

Yesterday on the metro I saw a man pick his eye with his pinky and then eat what he'd found there.

And I thought to myself: I may not be in shape, and I may never do my hair, but at least I'm not eating my own bodily excretions on the metro.  I'm doing alright.

The Land of the Living

I am back in the land of the living (sort of) and back to a mile-high stack of work in the office. 

I'm trying to de-stress by periodically looking at photos from our Labor Day weekend at the lake.  The first day we were there the weather was perfect for a sunset ski.  Lest you get the wrong idea: I do not ski.  Blake skis.  And I am in charge of the photo-taking (in this case, with Blake's iPod).  I'm not one for being dragged behind a machine at high speeds (i.e. I'm a chicken), but it sure is fun to watch a pro. 

Bronchitis

Other than the horrible things - like the constant coughing, the fatigue, and the I-might-be-dying sentiment, there are two definitive perks to having bronchitis:

1.  My abs are now rock hard.  I've coughed enough to get a great workout and tight abs...just in time for the end of swimsuit season.

2.  I made it through my entire "instant queue" on Netflix.  I am now very familiar with every classic-novel-turned-movie-or-BBC-miniseries ever made.  And after watching so much Jane Austen, at least I could be grateful that I had only bronchitis and not consumption.

Here's to a new week...without any manner of itis.

An Ecological Quandary

Lately, Georgetown has really stepped up its so-called Green Initiative.  I like to think of it as more of a Guilt Initiative.

Three weeks ago they changed the signage on all garbage bins.  There are double-bin units all over the place that used to say - discreetly- "garbage" and "recycling."  Now those same bins read in big, bold letters, "RECYCLING" and "LANDFILL." 

Geeze.  That's enough to make me want to wear a nylon stocking over my face to mask my identity every time I throw something in there. 

And just when I'm recovering from the guilt at having contributed to the landfill problem and the eventual ecological downfall of our entire planet, I wander into the bathroom where the towel dispenser is stocked with horrible, thin, useless paper towels.  The type where you have grab a handful in order to do any true hand-drying. 

But three weeks ago, along with the landfill signage, came stickers on every paper towel dispenser that says, authoritatively, "Remember, these come from trees!" 

Now, I'm all in favor of saving trees, preserving the rain forests and whatnot, but I also need to have dry hands after I used the restroom at work.  I do not want to wipe my hands on my business casual, and I definitely don't want to leave droplets on my keyboard. 

Sometimes, when I'm in a really spiteful mood and feeling particularly emotionally manipulated by the Guilt Initiative, I'm tempted to take my large handful of used paper towels out into the hall to throw them specifically into the LANDFILL.  But I don't.  Because, gosh darn it, the Guilt Initiative actually works.