While walking through the lobby of a downtown DC office building earlier this week, I ran into one of those "inside the Beltway" celebrities, Ana Marie Cox. I didn't say anything because I only realized it was her after the opportunity had passed. It was one of those hey, she looks really familiar moments. Cox is the former editor of Wonkette, who now writes for Time magazine. The sighting made sense, because Time has a small office in the building I spotted her in. Next time, I'll try to have my cameraphone at the ready. 

I hadn't used the bathroom at the Giant grocery store on Park Road before, but I discovered tonight that it's a very nice, clean facility. On the way home from work I stopped by to get a salad and a few other items, and I needed to wash my hands because I touched the pole on the Metro that a coughing woman was using, and I didn't want to contaminate the salad bar.

The bathrooms are just inside the main entrance, all the way to the left down a short hallway. I was expecting a barely servicable men's room, but it was actually clean and comfortable. The  walls were covered in Southwest-looking terra cotta tiles, with actual decorative borders and designs. There was both an air dryer AND paper towels. The mirror wasn't shattered or covered with graffiti. Everything worked, and I knew the minute I walked in I wanted to mention it here (but let's keep it clean now that the secret is out!).

In contrast, the worst grocery store bathroom I've ever used was the one in the SW Waterfront Safeway. It closely resembled the dank hellhole where much of the horror film Saw took place. Well, maybe it wasn't THAT bad, but I sure didn't leave that one feeling clean and refreshed. Then again, I had no choice, I was in Southwest, the quadrant of no public bathrooms, or retail at all for that matter.

Thanks to Wonkette for the mention: 
http://wonkette.com/politics/metro-section/ben-franklin-would-be-proud-258806.php

From the Washington Post:

For 140 years, residents of Georgetown have been compiling a rare trove of data on their past: oil paintings, leather-bound maps, photos and files on nearly every property in the neighborhood -- all kept in the stately, two-story library on R Street NW. In just a few hours yesterday, a three-alarm fire devoured much of it. Onlookers gasped as D.C. firefighters carried out item after historical item. Most were severely damaged: a warped 1840 oil painting of a freed slave, a soot-covered copy of a D.C. atlas from a century ago, a photo left unrecognizable by flames. All afternoon flames could be seen. They ate through the precious Peabody Room, the key source for original historic materials about Georgetown. The second-floor room was named after the financier who in 1867 provided seed money for a library for Georgetown. "The second floor is gone," said branch manager Mary Hernandez.

It seems to me that as a general rule, libraries and archives do not have sprinkler systems because of the fear of leaks and water damage. However, as the head of the DCPL system, Ginnie Cooper, said in an interview today, "wet is better than ashes." Something creative needs to be done to safeguard our fragile paper cultural heritage in libraries and archives: inert-gas fire suppression systems, scanned electronic backups, acid-free paper copies kept offsite, unique items locked in fireproof/waterproof safes, whatever it takes. As usual, extra precautions will be taken after the fact, we seem to be good at closing the barn door after losing the cow these days. I hope they do something with the Washingtonia collection at the main MLK Library downtown. This is heartbreaking stuff to a librarian and history buff.

[Thank you to The Express, DC Blogs, and Wonkette for the mentions today.]

I don't know if I should thank Wonkette for the mention today, because it's pretty embarrassing, but as they say, there's no such thing as bad publicity in this town. It's amusing to think how many people have been informed about my diarrhea, which I should point out is gone now! I was thinking a custom tee shirt that said "I was up half the night with diarrhea..." would be pretty funny. White, 70s-style lettering on a dark brown background? Hee hee hee. 
Thanks for the heads-up, retrotastic!

Attention, sidewalk spitters! When it's this cold out, please refrain from public spitting. Instead of evaporating, the gob you so unkindly deposit on our public thoroughfares freezes in place in this weather. Your habit is foul and unsanitary enough in the summer. The sidewalk is like an obstacle course out there; walking along, I feel like the Titanic dodging icebergs! 
Then again, the bitter cold snap appears to be reducing the number of chicken bones left in the gutter. It must be too damn cold for outdoor Popeye's consumption.  

Thanks for the mention, Wonkette editors!