Bunch of people sitting around to perform our civic duty.
It’s my first time to be summoned for jury duty even though I’ve been a registered voter for the last 12 years.
This is not going to be as fun as the time I live-blogged the blind date going on behind me at Panera Bread, but it seems that there’s going to be a lot of sitting around here in the “juror’s lounge” as we await going into a courtroom to (possibly) be selected to be on a jury panel. I’m not using ScribbleLive or any of the other liveblogging services cause I don’t think I’ll have that much to blog. So just refresh or come back often…
9:29am: We are all checked in and hanging out in a wi-fi powered lounge. I’d say about 150 people were called to be part of several possible jury panels. Watched an orientation video detailing how much we’d get paid ($4 for transportation) and warning us not to use, wait for it, LinkedIn, if we were selected to be on a panel. A creepy, sniffling guy decided to sit next to me, audibly sighing all through the video.
As our spankin’ new Boeing was descending into the US after a couple of days getting raped by mosquitoes in Honduras, I was suddenly awakened by the most searing pain I’ve ever felt. It was only on one side of my head, somewhere around my brow and behind my right eye. I later learned it had to do with sinus pressure and the quickly changing altitude of the jet. Apparently I was sick and congested and only then, as my eye teared uncontrollably and I curled up in wrenching pain, that I realized my sinuses were THAT backed up.
24 hours later I was checked into the hospital because they seem to take things like phlegmy lungs and not-breathing-very-well quite seriously when you are six months pregnant. I had to watch Jeopardy cause I didn’t expect to get admitted, so I didn’t pack any diversions. I also got wheeled around in a stupid gown and padded booties because it’s hospital policy to not let people walk on their own. The X-ray tech gave me two blankets to cover up before our wheelchair journey. “There are a lot of pervs in this hospital,” she said. I laughed. “No, I’m serious,” she said, without any irony. Yikes.
But anyway, the time in Honduras was fun. The food was surprisingly delicious. Our resort complex boasted the only real BBQ pit/smoker on the island. Excellent pulled pork.
The Honduran specialty, Wendy’s burgers. I shot this cause the ppl there asked us to sign a guestbook after eating. It was strange.
Took some puddle jumpers to actually get to the island of Roatan. Audrey is praying since we thought we were going to die.
We sat there in 100 degree heat awaiting the pilots to turn the plane on.
Yeah, I dunno.
Got to the resort complex by sunset. It had six condos and a delicious restaurant, all right on the water.
Sunset in Honduras.
Our buddy the toucan.
And the pit smoker.
Like I blogged earlier, the complex was laid out much like a Honduran version of Melrose Place, with a pool/courtyard in the middle.
I am swollen and six mos preggo but we had to get a proof-we-were-there shot.
Heading out to SCUBA (I just snorkeled.)
Audrey and the British dude Matt return from their dive.
All aboard the twin engine plane by SOSA Aerolineas. Audrey was praying. I was sweating.
We learned from our condo caretaker Kent that one of the three seasons of the now defunct reality show, Temptation Island, was shot here on Roatan, where my friend Audrey and I are spending the weekend.
ROATAN, ISLA DE BAHIAS, HONDURAS — This is what it took to get here: A 5:30am flight out of DCA that we nearly missed because Audrey had set out her things to pack the night before but did not actually pack bags until I got to her house to pick her up for the airport. She had accidentally fallen asleep and ended up assembling her things in the span of 18 minutes that I gave her before I was going to head to the airport without her.
From DCA we flew to Houston, made a quick connection and then both got our first class upgrades for the longer flight into San Pedro Sula. The guy sitting next to me was super friendly and Audrey thought he might be with a drug cartel. We know not…
Arrive in San Pedro Sula to a customs area without a ceiling. Good thing we were the first off the plane because the customs situation was not swift.
Had three hours to kill before our flight to the islands. Filled the time the following ways:
A great way to pass the time at an airport.
1.) Laying out in the grass outside the airport watching some Hondurans load a casket into a truck
2.) Eating at the Wendy’s at the airport and not getting change cause they didn’t have it, later being asked to sign a guest book with comments about the food. (I just put Buen Provecho cause it’s something I learned in Spanish class.)
3.) Doing tricep dips off the airport chairs because they are the perfect height for tricep dips and Matty never lets me do them while traveling with him because he thinks I look like a total idiot. Audrey gamely joined, then…
4) Doing a set of wall sits for one minute each, also to pass the time.
5) Buying some really ugly postcards. How come all the postcards here have sexy ladies on them? I want just one, good environmental shot.
It’s been an eclectic week of live shows, that’s for sure. NPR Music’s Bob Boilen, who hosts All Songs Considered, has been wanting to go to a show together, and last week we settled on Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. The gazillion-piece band puts on a generous and fun live show, and they have some sentimental significance for me since photog Channing set his 2010 slideshow of our wedding photos to the Edward Sharpe hit, “Home.”
That show was Tuesday night. The band delivered. And that was probably the “hippest” show I saw all week.
Heard it From a Friend Who Heard it From a Friend
B y Friday we were at a performance by 1980s monster ballad makers REO Speedwagon and Styx, thanks to our boss Joel. Joel’s little bro Todd Sucherman is the drummer for Styx and we’ve been wanting to go see him for as long as we’ve known that bit of trivia. It finally happened, and it was magical out there in the Virginia ampitheatre, in perfect 70 degree weather, eight rows back from the stage.
After the show we went backstage and met the members of Styx (including the few remaining original members) and Drummer Todd cracked us up with his almost total recall of Arrested Development scenes. That guy is rad.
Four: Repeat Steps One Through Three
Capped the week off with 1990s R&B great Brian McKnight. This was basically an impulse move. Sometime at a bar last week, I was telling friend Ian how much I loved 90s R&B, especially artists like Brian McKnight. Ian thought he had heard McKnight would be in DC and sure enough, the crooner was set to perform at the historic Howard Theatre on Sunday night. We bought tickets right then and there. Some photos:
I heard it from a friend who, heard it from a friend that REO Speedwagon was playing a live show.
We showed up just in time for REO Speedwagon and just late enough to miss Ted Nugent (on purpose).
The proof we were there photo.
Marc (center) came back from New York for this epic night.
The proof we were there together shot. L to R: Joel, Marc, Matty, Me (and fetus)
Styx takes the stage! There’s original band member Tommy Shaw in silhouette.
Crooning a ballad.
Tried to get an action shot of Joel’s little bro, Todd Sucherman, on the drums.
Tommy Shaw and Chuck Palozzo, both original band members.
Todd Sucherman in action!
Time for a group sing! Come Sail Away…
We caught Todd Sucherman’s signature drum stick (made with Texas maple) that he threw into the crowd.
Curtain call
Backstage with Styx! Joel and his baby bro, drummer Todd Sucherman.
Marc, Todd, me, Matty backstage
And Brian McKnight was joined by the Duke Ellington Orchestra, which was amaaazing.
I had deep, deep love for the tenor sax player.
Howard Theatre is a fantastic historic venue, recently redone.
There he is getting hounded when he tried to go the bar to get a drink — Brian McKnight.
Begin Wikipedia-ing Rose Kennedy and why in the hell she had to be lobotomized. The reasons are quite unclear, as different contemporaries of the Kennedy’s describe her somewhere between manic depressive or having severe mental disabilities.
BUT — somewhere in the assessment of Rose Kennedy I read that she could do arithmetic, specifically, multiply 436 by 12. And that requires at least an IQ of 90.
This leads me to question whether I still know how to multiply by hand.
I frantically grab a piece of paper and start trying to multiply 436 by 12. Succeeded.
Decided I was hungry after all my great multiplication achievement.
This Mother’s Day I am feeling especially grateful for my mama, who’s been as amazing as usual as I confront becoming a mom myself. Granted, I’m probably TOO attached to my mom; we travel together a few times a year, talk every morning and I seek her out for everything from cooking lessons via Skype to answers to thorny life questions when I need wisdom/understanding. (When I told her about my ambivalence after learning I was preggo, her response was, “Well, if the baby comes out cute you could probably sell it on the black market for at least 40 grand.”)
This is all to say that I’ve never under-appreciated the connection between moms and their children. So in preparation for this fall’s arrival of Baby Hu-Stiles, I sought out advice and product recommendations from some of my favorite-girlfriends-who-are-also-moms. I’m overwhelmed that these brilliant, beautiful women — one who I’ve known since 5th grade — took the time to share these personal insights with me, and with you. Happy Mother’s Day.
I had already taken a big swig of the pervasive Washington culture cocktail of press+politicos at the White House Correspondent’s Dinner over the weekend, but at least 100 of those Washingtonians were still game to party on Tuesday, when I co-hosted a soiree to fete our pal Robert’s new book at columnist Kathleen Parker’s Georgetown abode. There, I witnessed a Washington tradition for new books: People turning straight to the index to see if their names are mentioned. Coverage of the fete from The Hill’s Judy Kurtz:
Friends and colleagues celebrated the release of Robert Draper’s new book about the inner workings of the 112th Congress, Do Not Ask What Good We Do: Inside the U.S. House of Representatives, on Tuesday … Draper, a freelance writer, spent a year following the veterans of the House and the newly elected Tea Party members, to get a behind-the-scenes glimpse of life inside the Capitol.
The place is gorgeous-gorgeous, with an expansive courtyard and a roofdeck, and dozens of Draper’s pals showed to toast his new book. More photos, by our NPR intern Julia Ro:
Show Foreground: BLT canapes. Back: BBQ pork sliders.
The stairs to the courtyard.
The spread.
Robert’s book jacket as a small poster.
Scott Conroy, Elise Hu, Peter Hamby
Author Draper with political reporters Scott Conroy and Pete Hamby
Jennifer Hing, Paul Kane, Brendan Daly
So much signing
Mixin’ it up with Cap Hill staffer gals
Robert Draper speaking with Judy Kurtz of The Hill
I remember Todd, right, from way back when he worked for John Cornyn
Draper has lots of friends.
Kevin Madden, Paul Kane, Jennifer Hing, John Scofield and Brendan Daly
Draper signin’ books
Sloan Harrison (Robert’s longtime book agent) and Robert Draper
WaPo publisher Katharine Weymouth with pals and Kathleen Parker (with the poodle, Ollie)
Cohostesses – Lara Andre, Kathleen Parker, me, managing to look less preggo in this one
About a year ago, when I ran into my DC-based writer pal Robert Draper while he was on his way to interview someone for his book, I told him that whenever the book came out and he got invited to go on The Daily Show, I wanted to go along.
The book — Do Not Ask What Good We Do: Inside the U.S. House of Representatives — came out this Tuesday, and Draper actually remembered my request. He invited me to join his brother John, girlfriend Laura and longtime pal Colin in attending the live taping at the small Daily Show studio (CAMERAS VERBOTEN!) on the Upper West side. (I tried to hear any distinctive laughter from our little group, but it’s all pretty muddled.)
For me, the people in a place always make the place. So I love Taipei because my six months there overlapped with that of other Chinese-American expat-types, also exploring their ancestral roots or themselves, and we became a family in a never-sleeps city with a fast-beating pulse and endless foods and bars and alleys to discover.
I love Austin because I actually stayed long enough to get to know Austin. I eventually came to feel OF Austin, even though the truth is, I grew up in Dallas. I am ambivalent about whether it was better as a gritty hippie town or as the more yuppied-out place it is now. I mainly love Austin because of the friends who became like family there.
Hannah is one of those friends. She’s the most-together person I know, talented in countless ways, and whenever I’m with Hannah, whether it’s for dinner or for a trip to remote West Texas, I know I never have to worry about a thing because she has a plan and a backup plan and a second-backup plan for everything. So I knew that when she married her beloved Jed, everything would be fantastic. And it was.
We were so happy to be back home for the weekend, and I loved getting to spend time with the Austin girls with whom I’ve shared so many meals — and many more adult beverages — over the years.
Some of the Texas gals – L to R Liz Taylor, Claire East, Meredith, Megan Woodburn
With my favorite chef of all time, Jimmy, and my man Matty. My face looks so pregnant. Uggggh.
Jed and his groomsmen
The bridesmaids were beautiful. Each selected their own grey chiffon dress from J Crew
Here comes the bride
Hannah was a stunner
There’s friend Kate Volti
Reunited with the Austin girls. I didn’t realize there were so many blondes in the mix. 🙂
