THE DISTRICT OF CARA
My friend Cara has a solo show in this year’s D.C. Fringe Festival and I suggest you snap up tickets immediately and mentally prepare for some vigorous clapping.
Cara’s sister Bree was my boss long ago when I first moved to D.C. As the story goes, Bree and her boyfriend broke up and the two of us spent the next several months bouncing around D.C. together – typically with alcohol and tacos, sometimes with Cara. Since then, I have been informally adopted into their sisterly tribe, complete with matching monogrammed beach towels to make it super official.
I’ve never once wished for a sister. But I am glad I’ve got these two. Especially since Bree makes the turkey for Thanksgiving and Cara bakes the pie.
The District of Cara runs through July at the Tree House Lounge on Florida Avenue. Tickets are $17 plus the cost of a Fringe Festival button ($5 at the ticket office, $7 at the door). I really hope I don’t have to wear the button.
I had the most marvelous time in Minnesota last week. Such a wonderful time in fact that I bought tickets for R and I to go back next weekend for our annual family day. I may have failed to mention exactly how many people show up for family day, but he says he’s excited. And if he’s lying about that – what a smart boy. I think my mom has more sisters than R has relatives, so this should be fun for everyone! I told him – quoting the wise advice my cousin Mina gave to her now-husband at his first family day – that when he gets overwhelmed, he should grab a beer, grab a floatie and take a break.
IN OTHER NEWS
- I am getting my ass kicked at Words with Friends by numerous members of my family. I don’t know why I’m surprised.
- I’ve only got three weeks left of summer school.
- I have to go to happy hour in Falls Church tonight. That is WAY outside of the zone, as it is way way in the Virginia suburbs. I told R that I would go, since you’re supposed to compromise in relationships and shit, but I was doing so under protest. And that I would probably need snacks and bottled water, lest I get hungry or dehydrated during the 900 minute metro trip.
- This is hilarious: