Over the last eight months, I have learned many “not to” lessons. I’ve learned not to engage hyper-conservative relatives on topics like “gun control” and “what happened in Georgia.” I’ve learned not to stay out until 6 a.m. at bumping Italian discotheques (unless you’re hankering for a 103° fever and a week of bed rest). I’ve even learned not to date people who don’t speak your language but do despise your culture with a passion far exceeding your own. Two trimesters chockfull of newly acqui... Read Full Story

Two nights ago, I did the impossible. The unthinkable. The potentially hazardous to my health.I infiltrated enemy ranks. That’s right: I entered…the red zone.As the first Presidential Debate loomed on the evening timetable, I bridged the partisan divide and attended two debate-watching events: one Republican, and one Democratic.As you might imagine, I didn’t have a thing to wear.The Republican get-together was first. After thoroughly browsing JohnMccain.com (not the easiest site to navigate, ... Read Full Story

Last night at the gym, I was thwarted in my attempts at calisthenics by a woman wearing bright red lipstick and too-tight shorts. She wasn’t hogging the ellipticals, didn’t chat my ear off while I was trying for a treadmill-induced trance, and chose not to scowl at my frenetic workout pace like other patrons do. Oh, no. Much worse: she commandeered the remote control.At my small and unassuming gym, there are only two televisions, and a scant one of these faces the general direction of the car... Read Full Story

Today, upon driving out of our nation’s capital, I was privy to a series of bizarre and unnatural events. These events took the form of sightings, the kind of inexplicable roadside wonders that make my many hours in the car worthwhile. It’s the cow-shaped shoe store in Texas; the “Greenway Creek RV Park” listed as Exit 32’s sole attraction in West Virginia; the collection of carved wooden beavers in Ontario. This evening, it all began at the Food Mart on Wisconsin Avenue.Enervated after four ... Read Full Story

We live in an age of crumbling faiths. Everywhere I look, beliefs are battered and belittled – belief in God, belief in human goodness, belief in public transportation. Even faith in our presidential candidates is wavering – just today I received an email informing me that my beloved Barack Obama (and I quote), “IS a muslim and IS a racist and this is a fulfillment of the 911 threat that was just the beginning.” My God, why hast thou forsaken me (and my preferred political candidate)?Amidst t... Read Full Story

Punched: Chris’s faceScratched: Richard’s corneaKicked: Kevin’s groinChucked stapler at: James’s headPut break-up note inside: Andrew’s lockerBitch slapped: WayneAccidentally pierced: that one guy’s ear with a dartOuch. Read Full Story

Need a humility check? A trip to the dentist ought to do the trick. This week at the dentist's office, I had one cavity filled. I also had my self-confidence gutted. And my insurance paid for both!As if it isn't embarrassing enough just sitting in a chair with your mouth pried open, staring up at painfully bright fluorescent lighting with a bib over your chest, they actually try to talk to you, as if they care about your emotional comfort level in addition to your tooth decay. Natural... Read Full Story

In the spirit of Valentine’s Day, and inspired by a recent trend, I am pleased to present: WAYS NOT TO HIT ON SOMEONEby Bree BartonExhibit A“Ike”I met "Ike" at a benefit where a local artist was raising money for her work in Haiti. As I perused exquisite silk scarves and photographs of beautiful big-eyed Haitians, big-eyed Ike perused my ass. I could feel his gaze boring into me like a magnifying glass poised over a voluptuous ant. When I looked up, we made awkward eye contact from ... Read Full Story

As a construction, the "Centennial" is a glorious thing. As defined by Webster, a Centennial is a momentous celebration, the anniversary of some event that took place one hundred years before. Though inevitably everyone who was present at the original event is now dead, the modern participants in the Centennial are united in the common (albeit hazy) conviction that the original event was important; so important, in fact, that it deserves to be not only remembered, but lauded with gr... Read Full Story

Sometimes I have problems with words. It’s not so much the words themselves that cause me grief, but the fact that certain phrases become almost intrusive, aggressively butting into my consciousness at the most inappropriate of times. Or even more disturbing, in my hour of need, the right words, the truest specimens of that magic moment where vowels and consonants converge, desert me. They leave me cold, lonely, and – the greatest of all possible evils – inarticulate. Take, for example, my cu... Read Full Story