Twelve Tips for D.C. Neophytes

1. Get a Smartrip card. Spare yourself and everyone behind you in line the frustration.
2. Unless the difference in cost is $100 or more, just fly out of DCA.
3. Save yourself the frustration: don't fly to New York. Don't take the bus to Boston. Busjunction.com is your best friend.
4. Hipster or Preppy? Pick a side and party appropriately.
5. If you're from California, your first winter here is always the coldest, no matter what the temperature says.
6. Don't try to wear foundation in the summer. Do moisturize in the winter.
7. You'll need a doctor, gynecologist, dentist and psychiatrist (trust me). Find the doctors closest to your office and then cross reference them with Yelp reviews. Call until you find someone accepting new patients.
8. Learn the bus routes; it will expand your reasonably priced apartment and dive bar options by a power of 10.
9. Ice skating at the National Gallery sculpture garden, screen on the green, E Street Cinema, Shakespeare Theater's young professional tickets and the botanical gardens--the best free to reasonably priced entertainment in the city.
   
10. Don't put off buying wellies. Sure, you can't wear them everyday, or even once a week, but when you need them, they're more frustrating to be without than a great pair of jeans or a little black dress.
    
11. PL Nails in Adams Morgan is the only place to bother getting your nails done. Clean, luxurious and $35 for a mani-pedi.
    
12. Eat at Komi at least once before you leave.

Bonus: Plan to leave. No one stays.

Please Do Not Disturb the Urbanite in Her Natural Environment

April is upon us, and for those of us in D.C., that means cherry blossoms, allergies and the official start of tourist season. I'm as happy for the warm weather sans impending humidity as the next gal, but I hate this time of year.

At some point when you were a youngster--for me it was like 7th grade--your school thought it was a good idea to take you to our nation's capital and brainwash you with a fine bouquet of patriotism with the faintest hint of xenophobia. You looked at monuments, visited museums, and more than anything enjoyed being away from your parents and sleeping in the same hotel where your crush was, even if there were like 30 chaperones between you and him, ready to pounce at the faintest scent of hormones.

Never did you consider the fact that that bicameral legislature that you're admiring has a whole staff of people who live and work in D.C. and keep that thing running. And that that legislature has a whole lot of corporate interests that wish to influence it and employ an army of people to do so. And that news organizations cover the relationship between the two, which they do by being chock full of staff. And that all of those staffers need to eat and shop and see movies somewhere and that there are a whole host of people who FRIGGIN' LIVE HERE AND THE CITY IS NOT A PLAYGROUND OF STATUES BUILT FOR YOUR TOURISTY AMUSEMENT! YOU DIDN'T CONSIDER IT, DID YOU!??!

Sorry, I get a little worked up. And I'm still pissed that Granny O'Grimm didn't win the Oscar for Best Animated Short. Anyways, my point is, as a tourist and visitor to this place, you should respect the local customs and try not to annoy the city's natural population--the urbanite.

Those things aren't modern day black magic, they're called escalators. And while they are, in fact, very long, they are not a photo opportunity. Kindly stand on the right and walk on the left or suffer my wrath. Oh, oh, you think I won't curse at your five year old who is "adorably" trying to run up the down escalator during morning rush hour traffic when I am running 15 minutes late to work? You are so fucking wrong.

As with most wild animals, the best way to avoid a mauling, is to keep a respectful distance from the beast, and the best way to do that, is to recognize it. So, with the help of 2B1B's graphic designer in residence AO, I give you....


The urbanite may have any or all of the evolutionary advantages listed above. And in addition to the flip flops, she may also be carting high heels in a reusable grocery bag because the guy at CVS isn't asking you if you'd like paper or plastic, he's asking you if you'd like to pay $0.05 or just manage to carry your purchases on your own without murdering the planet.

The urbanite is well adapted to her environment. Sorry tourist, I'm not even looking at you. I can't tell that you're lost and need directions. I'm staring at something else disdainfully behind these sunglasses. Oh, that homeless dude was asking me for money? I thought he was waving and helpfully providing a back beat to my ipod with his coffee cup full of change. PETA chick, I would take your stupid little flyer filled with oddly racist arguments about why animal cruelty is bad if my hands weren't so damn full with this coffee and this Blackberry.

It's best to allow a perimeter around the urbanite and to stay out of her direct path--the urbanite doesn't waver and stupid little high school girls in their school shirt who failed to get out of my way while I was walking to work this morning may have gotten knocked on her ass in a crosswalk only to have her teacher cursed at about the proper time and place for tourists when she tried to scold me. Spill my coffee on me and pay the price--I have theater tickets for tonight. You're just going to the fucking Spy Museum.

We Clearly Can't Handle Snow

DC got another 2-4 inches last night, which is just salt in the wound that's still open from the epic pre-Christmas storm. I realize this is nothing to you mid-west and Boston kids, but this just doesn't happen to us, especially with another potentially big snow storm heading our way this weekend.

I get it Obama, you're from Chicago and you're not going to shut down the federal government (which all of the local businesses generally follow) for a couple measly inches (and the one damn thing metro manages to do really well is keep running in the snow, grrrrr), but we occasional snow kids get a little giddy when the white stuff just keeps coming (yes, still discussing precipitation.)

First there was the idiot cop who pulled his gun on the good folks participating in an organized snowball fight here in D.C. Then this morning, I read about the lovely lady up in Pennsylvania who is being charged for throwing a snowball at a city bus driver for not letting her board with an expired bus pass.

City officials and citizens alike, we just can't handle the snow. It makes us crazy. Just let us stay home.

Los Angeles is A Strange Place

When I was a kid, I loved visiting Los Angeles. It was this magical place with great food, good shopping and perfect weather. Don't get me wrong, there still is some great food and excellent shopping. And while the weather is usually perfect, we were just unlucky enough to come the weekend where rain ended the long drought there. But, when I was younger, I never noticed how ridiculous the people in LA are.

Everyone knows the LA stereotype - superficial people that are all trying to break into show business. But nothing makes that seem so real that like witnessing a child that couldn't have been more than 4 or 5 getting extensions in the kiddie hair salon. It was tragic, because this little girl had the most adorable little afro puff, and the extensions were certainly not an improvement.

DC has its own crazy. But, I somehow find it preferable to LA. If nothing else, it's pretty easy to be considered thin and stylish in DC!

Pardon Me, But I Believe You Have a Case of Bitchface

So, a couple weeks ago, a friend of mine got incredibly drunk and hooked up with some chick none of us had ever seen before at one of the alumni Cal game viewings. Not being as drunk as he was at the time, I tried to stop him. "Look," I pleaded, "she's not very cute. You're being fooled because you're very drunk, she's acting like she's attractive, and she's wearing tight clothes. In the morning, you're going to find that she's a couple sizes too big for those clothes and she has an ugly face." In the morning, he found that I was right.

Now, this girl is lame, and I guarantee you, you know someone like her. She is the kind of girl who wants very much to be perceived as cool, and so does a perpetual, over the top Regina George impression. She conspicuously gets up, walks around, makes a show of saying hello to multiple people, talks loudly... She's a trying too hard ho with bad skin and frizzy brown hair with a single streak of white highlight on the left side of her face and a real bad case of bitchface. Disgusting.

Well, she disappeared the following week, and we were all sort of hoping she was a collective bad dream...though the friend who hooked up with her knew differently, for she is also the type to purposely leave something behind in the hopes of getting a second date. Seriously, girl is gross.

But no no, she re-emerged the week after, got wicked drunk, kind of fell all over the place, and threw herself at the friend she'd hooked up with. Like not a little toss, full on threw herself to the point of getting jealous every time the friend talked to any of his female friends (myself included) and admonishing him for "paying attention to plain girls instead of her." Really, Ugly? Really?

Well, this week she was back (and the friend she hooked up with was not), and early on in the game, she made a loud announcement that she was tripping over things. Annoyed at her continued loud (and what I assumed was once again inebriated) behavior, I asked the two friends she'd made from our table if they could please stop bringing her. Next thing I know, I'm in the ladies room and the following conversation ensues (reconstructed to the best of my ability)...

Bitchface: I think we need a minute.
Me: I really don't think we do.
BF: Well, you said something kind of aggressive to my friends.
Me: I mean, I don't like you. I don't think we need a minute to discuss that.
BF: OK, but you don't even know me.
Me: Well, no, not well, but I still find you really annoying. And you were acting a drunk 'n bitchy fool last time I saw you.
BF: I wasn't drunk. Who are you to say when I'm drunk?
Me: OK, well, in that case you were acting like an idiot sober. Doesn't make it better.
BF: OK, I guess our personalities might clash, but I graduated before you, which means I have more right to alumni events than you do [eds note: this is your argument? really? I don't even know when she graduated or why I've never seen her at events pre-the bad idea hook up if that's the case, but she knows like maybe 5 people] so don't tell someone who's not even an alum and someone who graduated after me not to bring me places.
Me: I'm pretty sure I'll tell anyone anything I want, but thanks.
BF: Ok, well, you enjoy the game in your little Converse.
Me: Thanks, you enjoy it with your bad skin and your frizzy hair and your ugly highlight.

Now here's my question: Who the fuck has a problem with Converse?

Spotted: DC Fashion Crime - The Usual Suspects, Part II

So I finally upgraded from my technologically retarded phone that was free with my wireless plan like 2 years ago and I now have my nice new Blackberry Curve. And it's a good thing I do, because it allows me to take pictures like this on the walk home...

I fear that you're not properly understanding what's going on here. Let's zoom in, shall we?

Those are f'ing zebra print platforms (circa 1994) with a seersucker suit.

I hate DC.

Dress Your Age

This may come as a shock to some of you avid CSPAN viewers, but DC is not a fashion capitol. It is in fact, the exact opposite of one. Of course there is a DC style - but it is usually pretty bad. Like any high school, there are prototypes to which most people adhere. There are the Hill folk who suit up daily. But not good suits - usually cheap ones. In fact, this guy in my complex who works on the Hill does the sport coat and pants thing. So, he either doesn't match (I swear, one day he wore a brown jacket with black pants) or he looks like a security guard. The Hill can be amusing in the summer though - it is searsucker and bowtie season (well, for the R's at least).

Then, you have the students who look like all the worst frat stereotypes. It's like there is this uniform for the boys of khaki shorts, button up shirts and brown flip flops. Consindering some of the universities in the area, it is no surprise that there is a douche dress code. There is no uniform for the girls. But, let's just say about 15% of female students in DC appear to understand what size they should be wearing. Ladies, sometimes bigger is better.

I will not even dignify the horrific wardrobe of the tourist with a description.

Then there are the downtowners. I would argue a good percentage of the people who work downtown dress relatively well. But, I am noticing an increasing number of people who seem to think they are 20 years older or younger than they are. Note: dressing from the juniors section in your 50s - not cute. Conversely, dressing like Mrs. Doubtfire in your 30s - also not cute.

Personally, I love dressing young while I am young. But I understand that Theory and BCBG are not really designed for the mature woman. I also understand that I am too young to pull off Chico's or St. John (and I am waaaay too poor for St. John). Flaunt it while you got it and hide it when time and gravity give you too much of it.

Can I Get a Collective Eye Roll?

Apparently it's that time again. The Hill takes a break from wonky political reporting to instead tell us who we should be hitting on at Capitol Hill bars. That's right, it's The Hill's 50 Most Beautiful. Or not yet, but it's time to vote for them.

For our dear readers who operate outside of the District bubble, The Hill spends most of it's time giving politicians the journalistic equivalent of a hand job by reporting on policy that no one cares about outside the Beltway and giving them a forum to flip each other off through anonymous quotes. But once a year, they instead turn to masturbation and definitively prove the old adage that DC is Hollywood for ugly people.

It's not so much offensive that the people are ugly...which they are. Imagine the 50 hottest workers on Wall Street. And the Wall Street crowd doesn't make the Hill workers' measly $28k, even post-recession. Or the 50 hottest in PR? You'd have to add a talent competition just to narrow the field. Truly, look at the 2008 list and tell me that there's not a pretty serious curve they're grading on over on Capitol Hill. (Note to those included last year: not that y'all aren't good looking, just that I've seen better.)

But still, that's not the main thing. The main thing is this idea that politics is a place for you to become famous. That making a Senator's copies somehow makes you special...and all the more so if you're attractive while you do it. People are plenty good (and plenty hot) at tons of other jobs, and no one feels the need to make a list like this. It's like having People Magazine...for my high school.

Which brings me to my actual point: this list is high school. And from people who should be old enough--and god knows entrusted with important enough responsibilities--to know better. Whatever, I'm probably just pissy because Hill interns (and the supervisors who sleep with them) are wicked annoying.