viva la evolución
I squeaked into the alpha test of BlogShares by about a day, and I just found myself listed as #98 on the list of Top 100 Players. The site is exploding in popularity, so that probably won’t last another ten minutes. My own listed stock has yet to appear on the Top 500 list, though I have yet to figure out exactly how all that’s calculated.
This week, Sara wants to know about the town where I live.
I’m coming to visit your town. Recommend the following, with reasons why I should go to these places:
The best resturant, the one I have to eat at, at least once, while I’m in your town.
My favorite restaurant around here is probably Sunflower. It’s completely vegetarian, and almost entirely vegan - it’s so nice to be able to choose from anything on the menu. I also like the kadu chalow (a pumpkin dish) at Panjshir, which is an Afghan restaurant. We often go to Tara Thai for special occasions, too; my favorite for Mexican food is Tequila Grande (which is owned by an Indian family).
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I only just discovered last night that Lynne Thigpen died a couple of weeks ago. She was starring in The District, which had to halt production while the producers figure out what to do about the rest of the current season. The article I originally read didn’t mention a cause of death, but a message on the IMDb forum says she died of a heart attack. Other messages claim she was found in her apartment the following day, which means she must have died alone.
I never saw “The District,” but I did see some of her other works. My absolutely favorite, though, remains Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego? - I couldn’t possibly forget her barking out orders as The Chief. In addition to a lot of work on TV, she also acted both onstage and in films. She was just 54, and it’s upsetting to have lost such a talent so young. Rest in peace, Lynne.
So far there is only one tribute page for Lynne. It took a little searching around, but I also found some pages about the game show, some of which include pictures of the cast. There are pages at Yesterdayland, Jump the Shark, and TV Tome; there’s another page that lists the rules of the game show.
Mariann’s current Weekly Wrapup is about fears and phobias.
1. What simple things scare you? Why?
Believe it or not, sometimes I’m still afraid of the dark. I also don’t like bugs and other creepy-crawly things…they just gross me out.
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When I was coming home from class on Monday night, I found Constitution Avenue closed again; there were police cars all over the neighborhood. Figuring that somebody else had decided to have a little solo protest on the National Mall, I immediately got annoyed. I took the detour around (not that there were signs, nor anybody to follow) and found myself in line at a light to turn back onto Constitution. A fire truck was blocking one of the lanes, and then an ambulance came along. A police officer waved it toward a particular spot at the curb, and it made a couple of buzzy honky noises to get some cars to move. When they did, I was able to see a black man lying on the sidewalk. I immediately said oh my god! out loud, into the empty car. There wasn’t anybody attending the guy; the officers were just standing around watching the scene. I think he must have been dead, or they would have been tending to him. I’ve never seen a real live (so to speak) dead person before.
Yesterday I noticed a new message on the electronic message signs that are positioned at regular intervals along I-66. The signs all advertise a Terrorism Tip Line - 1-866-488-8554 - which has apparently been established by the Virginia State Police and the Virginia Department of Emergency Management. That’s not readily apparent from the signs, though; I figured it was a new federal project. (That kind of thing is hard to determine when you live near DC.)
We’re still expecting to see the cherry blossoms on Saturday.
I’m posting from Safari again, because I’m at the mall again. I have decided to take a nice break from work, because my only coworker tonight (you really only need two on a Tuesday night) is a great big pain in the ass. I kept trying to indicate that he should leave me alone because I didn’t want to put up with his mindless chatter, and he keeps asking me what’s wrong. I got so fed up that I actually said (indirectly) that the only thing wrong was that he keeps bugging me, but it didn’t help. So I am piddling about here in the Apple store, and when I’m done I will go get a drink (which is what I said I was doing when I left)…at CVS, which is halfway around the mall.
When my coworker asks where I’ve been, I’ll conjure something about having fallen down. This will even be partly true, because I’ve hurt myself twice today. Before leaving for work this morning, I fell down the stairs (we live in a split-level, so it was only half a flight) and really hurt my thigh (just below the butt, where I landed on it). I terrified the cat; she ran out when I started bawling and refused to come back in even though she was watching through the cat door. When I finally got up and opened the door for her, she refused to come in; when I coaxed her back inside she was very reluctant and kept staring at the spot where I’d been sitting. When I was getting ready to leave my school, I smacked myself in the mouth with a heavy wooden door. Ouch!
I have so much writing to do! I’m going to have a piece in the May/June issue of all things girl - that issue’s topic is “Pain & Pleasure,” which keeps making me think of the Red Hot Chili Peppers lyric “I like pleasure spiked with pain” from the song Aeroplane. I’m also still months overdue for a DykeWrite post about sexuality…I can probably get the two pieces to work together somehow, if I can get either of them written! I’m trying to work on my duties for The Weblog Review, too.
On my way to school today, I ended up stopping at the light at the intersection of Constitution Avenue and 23rd Street NW. This is at the very edge of the city, just over the Potomac and off I-66. It seems like every time I go by there, the same guy is standing in the median. He always carries a sign that says “Homeless and Hungry, Please Help, God Bless” - today there was a smiley face drawn in the O of HOMELESS. He’s mostly bald, and his head is always drooped over the sign. It’s sunny today, so when he glanced up he squinted into the sun. He didn’t come near my car, but what would I have done if he had? I feel uncomfortable giving because I don’t want the money to be used for booze and/or drugs, but at the same time I feel as pained as any humane person would when I see somebody begging. He looks ashamed to be there, and I imagine that it’s depressing him, too. I have given money before, but every time I see a new person (or even the same person again), I feel terrible. I don’t know what to do about feeling this way, either. I’m poor too, but can’t I afford to give the change that gets stored in my car’s cup holder? It’s a sickening experience for both of us, I think.
Sara’s current question of the week asks:
What are you carrying around?
What are you carrying in your purse ladies? Yup, everything, from that lipstick you keep meaning to replace to how many pictures you have of your kids or family in your wallet. Keys, nail file? All credit cards, ID cards, and the bills and change too.
Guys, you aren’t off the hook. We know you shove tons of change in your pocket and play with it to annoy us! Tell us what you have in your wallet, how many keys are on your key chain? How much change do you have in that pocket? What else do you carry? Cell phone? Yup, everything please.
What I’m carrying varies according to what my schedule is that day. Today I worked at the mall and had recently cleaned out my pockets, so all I had was my license, my credit card, some cash, yesterday’s ticket stubs, and my cell phone. The bag I bring when I interpret usually has a magazine, a book, a ball of yarn and a crochet hook, and my little purse (which has a whole bunch of mostly-expired coupons, some random paper junk, a ton of change, and some cash, along with my health insurance card, my RID membership card, and an off-brand Chapstick). In the winter, my keys usually go in my coat pocket; in warmer weather they go in my bag or purse (if I’m carrying one) or the pocket of my jeans.