Snowstorms and Other Annoyingness

My bad. That's all.

Since the last time I blogged, it's snowed more times than I thought possible for the DC area in one winter. There was a time I would have loved it. That was about 15 years ago. When I didn't have a car. And no one wanted me to shovel snow. And I just slept all day anyway. (well, I did get 5 days off for it now...cool) But snow as an adult pretty much stinks. I can't WAIT for spring (however, the first tourist-spotting occurred yesterday. seriously, snow and now tourists? geezy peezy...).

But now I don't know where to get my weather.

Bob Ryan has given me the weather and helped me plan for field trips, and days at the beach, and (one) day on the slopes, and starlit nights with my sweetie, and helped me decide what to wear (tights or shorts in high school, suede or leather now) everyday (give or take) since I was born on a Friday night in December 27 years ago. Seriously. I feel like I know this man. And now WRC is just letting him go. Which pretty much stinks. Snow, tourists, and now this.

I cried watching that video.

A few years ago, WRC (channel 4) let go of Arch Campbell (Entertainment) and George Michael (Sports) to save money. The 11 o'clock news consisted of Jim Vance, Doreen Gentzler, George, Bob, Arch and sometimes Pat Collins, for the past 20-some years. It was like watching a bunch of boys fool around with a camcorder with the one girl who actually wanted to get something done. They were the ultimate team. Jim and George were the cool guys who all the girls liked. A little too fast for their own good, really (a little cocaine in the 80s, that's all). Doreen was the smart one, keeping them in line. Arch, the drama kid, with his plaid fedora and awesome movie reviews (though I haven't forgiven him for the 2 stars for the Little Mermaid). And then there's Bob. The nerd. The geek. The one with the corny jokes that still make you laugh. He was Screech. And everyone loves Screech. You know George and Jim laughed at him, but they'd never let anyone else do it.

So to Bob, I love you and I will miss you. I miss Arch (I just can't bring myself to watch channel 7), and I really miss George (RIP). And now I can't believe I have to say goodbye to you, too.

Thanks WRC for nothing...

White House Easter Egg Roll 2009

So yesterday (this morning), I railed on tourists. And my opinion hasn't changed. In fact, I've added a new gripe:

Don't wear high heels to walk around the city or to the White House or to the Capitol. Don't tell me you're comfortable because you're not. And you're not fooling anyone. We still know you're a tourist.

Anyway, today was the ultimate tourist trap: The White House Easter Egg Roll.

30,000 people received tickets (and that probably doesn't include staffers' kids). And I was there as a volunteer. I braced myself for stinky eggs, whiny kids, and a bunch of tourists thinking they were going to walk right into the West Wing just because they got a ticket to the backyard (so the South Lawn totally feels like a backyard--a giant one nonetheless--but an awesome backyard).

But it was so much fun. The kids were so, so cute. We only had a few criers and even fewer temper tantrums over at the West Egg Roll (my station) and only one or two pushy parents. I think they were more excited than the kids. One cutie pie called it Obamaland. I love that child. It's so true. It was totally Obamaland. A few celebs came by too (Tom Joyner, Chuck Todd, and the farmer from the movie Babe). Unfortunately, I missed the POTUS and FLOTUS. They came in the morning, but I had the afternoon shift. Still, it was so worth it. And now I'm feeling extra maternal and can't wait to dress up my little babies in gingham and argyle and seersucker on the Monday after Easter!

(P.S. Papa Smurf is still the greatest grandpa ever [no offense, Granddaddy]).

Tourists

I have a special relationship with Metro, the subway system in Washington, DC. I even call myself Metro Royalty (explanation at a later date). And even though it's going through a rough patch right now (bad economy, old rails and cars, etc), and I complain about it often, I still love it.

What I don't love, though, is the Metro in the springtime. And it's not Metro's fault. It's the tourists.

I.

Hate.

Tourists.

I'm not exaggerating. I hate them. They're good for the economy and I totally understand why they want to visit in the spring (cherry blossoms & low humidity) especially with the new First Family, now plus dog.

But I still hate them.

Tourists, please don't stand in front of the Metro map studying it for 5 stops only to realize you're going in the wrong direction (you're heading into the Hood!). On the escalator, please walk on the left and stand on the right. This is America. That's how we drive, it's how we ride our bikes, and walk down the sidewalk. Why, when you get on a Metro escalator, do you suddenly think you're in Paris and that everything is opposite? I mean come on.

Please stop wearing your Washington, DC, sweatshirts all around town with your fanny packs and cameras and maps and sunscreen. Don't ask me where is the Mall. Figure it out. It's only the HUGE swath of land in the middle of the city. Plus, you don't go anywhere else but the Mall. Use the Smithsonian stop. Pretty easy, because you know you're going to go to a Smithsonian museum. You don't go anywhere else. Just use some sense!

Recognize that people actually work in this town. It's more than the Capitol (actually a place of business, though) and the White House (again, another office building really), but lots of buildings in between where people work. And when you stand in the middle of the street with your class of 8th graders from Cedar Rapids (let's hear it for gay marriage in the prairies), that lady with the crocs on and carrying a tote bag, checking her blackberry is not a chaperone missing her flock. She's actually an underpaid worker, probably trying to desperately get to her office to make sure that your tax dollars are spent wisely.

I'm being harsh. But really, just move to the right. We'll pass on the left. It can be a match made in heaven. Stimulate the economy and we'll get a few good laughs. We like it when you visit our town. But really we can't wait for you to leave. I'll take a humid July over a mild April any day. When I walk out into the sauna like atmosphere, I at least know I can get a seat on the Red Line. And no one will ask me if they're heading towards Virginia. Trust me. I'm not heading to Virginia.


(OMG, They're EVERYWHERE!!!!)