Memorial Day Weekend: Where are the Washingtonians?

I was always told that true Washingtonians didn't stay in the District for the kick-off-to-summer weekend. But after realizing that I would be forced to spend the majority of my Memorial Day weekend moving out of my Georgetown townhouse to a new abode in Chinatown, I realized that DC actually has some good happenings during this time period. And though Dewey Beach will always reign supreme in my mind (hello, Bottle & Cork?), I've discovered a plethora of things to do in the nation's capital and beyond (excluding the array of pool parties at just about every single high rise roof top you can think of):

• Capital Sky Line: Pretend you're in Vegas and galavant at this pool party with some of DC's finest. Sure, they're probably yuppie prepsters and way-too-skinny Lima fist pumpers in Diesel swim trunks, but you can still pretend that you're with Tao Beach's finest. 
• Memorial Day Parade: Wave your flag around! Pretend you're a Nana and head to Constitution Ave to enjoy some candy thrown out of fire trucks and those men in funny hats in little cars. It'll have you singing "I love a parade" in no time. Or not. 
• The Liason: Go to one of DC's newest pool parties at the Capital Hill Hotel, which features every year's official Fourth of July party. Worried about the crowd that parties here? I would start your Hollywood Miracle Diet pronto. 
• DC United vs. Chivas: Support DC's studliest sports team on June 29th while they kill the Chivas on the field. Not that you'll even be in the seats or watching the game, let's be honest, it's Memorial Day Weekend, people. 
• Throw a BBQ: Be a fatty, buy some Natty Lites, and invite your favs over. Though it's completely against my religion, it's Memorial Day; do a keg stand, play flip cup, and actually drink beer like you enjoy it. Then be sure to hit up the gym ASAP to avoid any summer cellulite from the weekend festivities. 
• Hit up the Waterfront: Even though their food menus aren't exactly the most superior in comparison to their Georgetown neighbors, you don't even need me to tell you that the Waterfront is going to be wild this weekend. If all else fails, you need to hit up this spot ASAP. 

if all else fails...

• THERE'S ALWAYS DEWEY BEACH!! Sneak away for the night and go to a place that makes Acapolco look like a family vacation. It's only two hours by car and is a guaranteed blast (and total recipe for herpes, if you're not careful).

No matter what you decide, the District is always going crazy on Memorial Day. Whether inside the city or not, honor those who have passed for our country. And don't forget to cheers your glasses for them. 

Sushi Rock

I am extremely particular when it comes to sushi. I worked at a sushi restaurant for over a year, studied the science of the cuisine, know how to make a few rolls myself, and gorge myself with it whenever I'm given the opportunity. Usually, these so-called "fushion" sushi spots roll into DC, stay popular for six months, and then die out slowly after once people realize that the Chibouli chandeliers decorating the restaurant are actually better than the sushi itself (aside from SEI, of course). That's why I was extremely skeptical last weekend when my good friend invited me to go check out Sushi Rock with him, a new, hip eatery in Clarendon owned by the same people who own Public Bar. That night, I even made the executive decision to have a salad before hand, fearing that the menu would be comprised of overly-creative rolls and poor quality ikura.
Well, I was once again mistaken. Aside from the silly rock star memorabilia that decorates the restaurant (which is definitely a little bit tacky, but quite fun at the same time), Sushi Rock far exceeded my expectations with great services, flavors, and maki creations. With each roll named after a rock band, delicious flavors combining both sweet and spice will definitely satisfy you, along with several cooked rolls available for the sushi skeptic. There are also several amazing appetizers, as well, including gourmet tater tots, ahi tuna tartar, and probably one of the best miso soups I've had in a long time. The Bowie, which was a delicious farm raised salmon with kobocha potato puree, is an entree that will definitely be a repear for me upon my next trip. With a great saki menu to compliment its eclectic cuisine, you'll be sure to have an extremely positive experience.
Yelp.com members commended Sushi Rock by saying that there's finally some LA in DC. Well, I think Sushi Rock is going to give LA a run for its money with its incredible menu and will slowly become a hotspot over the Key Bridge. With its official grand opening on May 26th, Sushi Rock will have you asking, "Buddha Bar who?"

Make Your Boobs the Bomb

Let's be honest, ladies; your twins are one of your best accessories, big or small, that can make or break an outfit on a single night. Whether they're barely there or obscenely injected with silicone, it should always be on your fashion agenda to make those muffins look as perfect as possible no matter what you're wearing. Why have I decided to go on this kick for the 100th post on Paint the Town Leopard, you should ask? According to world renowned plastic surgeon Tracy Pfeifer, an estimated eighty percent of women are wearing the wrong bra size. And whether that statistic is causing the cut off of all of your circulation in result of a huge uni-boob (you know what I'm talking about), or causing your little mounds to get lost in the shuffle, it doesn't take dishing out five grand to make your boobs look the best that they can be. After years of living with a chest of varying sizes (let's be honest), here are my tips, tricks, and best practice (shout out to my colleagues) for every chick to look phenom:

• Victoria's Secret is NOT the Rosetta Stone of Lingerie: Those people think they're experts, measured me as two sizes too big, and always try to sell me that damn Angel credit card. Granted, they have some excellent styles that enhance, lift, and contour like crazy, but they're not the end all be all. And, I'm sorry, but if you think the Bio Fit is going to make you look like Adrianna Lima, then you've got another thing coming. 
• Wear a bra to sleep: I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I know it's super uncomfortable, but I have an aunt who's well into her eighties, slept in a bra her whole life, and they're not down to her belly button. TMI, I'm sure, but still. 
• Don't bargain shop for a cosmetic surgeon: If you're ready to take this dramatic step, now is NOT the time to be looking for a deal. I've had way too many friends who have bragged about how cheap their breast implants cost, and guess what? They were severely ripped off, and are now stuck with lopsided melons in their chest for the rest of their lives. Save up and do it correctly (Dr. Sheilah Lynch is DC's best in this department).
• Stop going braless: You're not Kate Moss or Keira Knightly. Even if you're a size 0 and a double A chest, nipples do exist, and you need something. Go for breast petals, or if you need more of a lift, try my favorite product, the Nu Bra. It sticks to your chest while being backless and strapless, giving you a lift when your sexy shirt prevents a bra from doing so. 
• Avoid super lacey unless it's your honeymoon: Even though you feel like you're Julia Roberts in Pretty Women, these bras usually have awful support and when worn underneath t-shirts, make it look like you've stuffed yourself with toilet paper. Get a nice, linen cup and end it at that. 
• HAND WASH!: The moment you stuff your bras in the wash, you can kiss the consistent wiring away. If you want to continue that perky uplift your favorite pasties give you with every wear, take the extra time and wash them in the sink (or, use the handwash button on your washing machine like I do). Too self-important and busy? Buy a BraBall; it conserves the shape of your bra as you wash. 
• Just because you're a 36 doesn't mean you're bulbous: I know so many girls who are suffocating in 34s because they're afraid to move up to a 36 with the subconscious impression that they'll be deemed fat. GET OVER IT! Wear something that fits you properly or then you'll really look chubby with your back fat that your tight bra gives you.
• Don't show them all the time: Leave a little to the imagination. I gave cleavage up for Lent and you couldn't imagine how many fabulous outfits I pulled together that were still sexy and didn't include any boobage. Yes, this is coming from me, but still; rotate when you wanna show your cleav. 

Sorry, boys, but with summer on the way and clothes beginning to have less fabric, I needed to reveal my tips for having the perfect chest. Just don't get all Heidi Montag on me; it's quality, not quantity. 

Theresa Giudice is My Homegirl

And so are all of the other Real Housewives of New Jersey (Minus Italian poser and con artist Danielle Staub, of course). Yes, with a new series debuting two weeks back, you can consider me glued to the television every Monday night from 10 to 11 pm, enthralled in the table-flipping craziness that now defines the upscale suburb of Franklin Lakes. With degenerates, wannabe singers (Hello, Lu-Ann? Money can't buy you class, but it can buy you studio time, I guess...), and the worst breast implants I've ever seen defining all of the other seasons, these housewives really prove why Jersey girls do it best. And despite the fact that Theresa dressed her newborn baby Audiana in leopard print, here are just a few other reasons why Dina, Caroline, and Jacqueline absolutely own it:

• They love Cadillacs: Yea, BMW's are great and all, but women who drive Cadillacs keep it real. They're also probably wearing some fabulously tacky outfit, which makes them all the more better (excluding my mother). What's more badass then a hot girl driving an Escalade?
• They COOK: What's up with this status thing of women thinking it's below them to go crazy in the kitchen? Though I don't exactly have time to be the chef of my dreams because I'm not a housewife and do work a nine-to-five every day, these women pride themselves on making great food, and don't give a crap if they're not a size two. 
• They get moderate breast implants: Bigger is not always better. Unlike every other celebrity getting breast implants right now, Theresa Giudice becomes nervous when she finds out she's actually going to go as big as a C cup. You might as well exile yourself from Coto if you're that small in Orange County.
• They keep their kids in line: When Caroline's son is fresh to her, she tells him off right back, unlike the spoiled rich kids on Real Housewives of New York who mouth off to their parents with no repercussions. You don't disrespect la famiglia. 
• They dress fabulously: Guidette or not, you've gotta admit that these ladies have style. At nine months pregnant, Theresa is walking around her daughter's fashion show in Louboutains. To me, that's more impressive than finding peace in the Middle East. 
• They tell off Danielle Staub for having absolutely no morals: This is the one reality show on the planet that doesn't glamorize gold-digging or unfit parents. No, Danielle is bashed for conspiracy in kidnapping, extortion, and supposed drug smuggling. And she has the nerve to get angry that this "hiccup" in her past is being publicized. 
• They put their kids in modeling: Gotta love the fellow stage moms. Both Theresa and Danielle enroll their daughters in modeling agencies, who both walk the runway at Mercedes Fashion Week. And, of course, Danielle tries to be competitive about her sixteen-year-old daughter modeling alongside Theresa's eight-year-old. 
• They fuggedaboutit: If you can read that, then I'm sure you love the New Jersey Housewives as much as I do. But really, they can fight, scream at each other, and rip each others' hair out, then break bread over Pinot Grigio ten minutes later. Foccaccia, of course. 

Although I love this city, I had a terrible experience waiting on the DC Housewives back in my restaurant days, and refuse to endorse them (they're boring and can't even dress, and frankly, I'll be surprised if they even air). However, I'll continue supporting my leopard-printed roots, and will continue to call all of the Jersey Housewives (minus Danielle) my homegirls. 

Cafe La Ruche

Have you ever had one of those days where you're getting a little bit Hannibal and just really need a good steak? That happened to me last week; I was yelled at by authority figures, had to pay for a boot to be removed from my car, and realized that I was now a size large in bathing suit bottoms. Knowing that the only thing that would make my life even slightly better at that moment was a good meal, I rallied my two closest girlfriends and made them accompany me to a spot in my neighborhood that I've always wanted to try.
Cafe La Ruche embodies the caf'-conc spirit. It has little to no marketing, live music on weekends, and an adorable outdoor patio area all in its tiny alley way facility on 31st. Known in English as "Beehive Cafe", I def wasn't stung by anything here except for bangin' wine and the most excellent piece of steak I've had served entrecote style outside of France. Having been situated in the same spot since the early nineties (which might as well be a century in DC restaurant years), the menu showcases French favorites in a casual, bistro setting. With a phenomenal soupe de l'onion and an array of pates, you can enjoy French food with their no-BS, what you see is what you get-type menu.
Have a plebe salary like I do? Don't be scared away by the slightly expensive prices; Cafe La Ruche offers an early bird special (which grosses me out to promote, but times are tough), with a choice of appetizer, any entre, and dessert for $16.95. They also have a delicious brunch (with mimosas included, of course) for $15.95 featuring their tres delicieuse house made pastries (I've had two in one sitting. Sad.). The best part? I was able to wear sweatpants and my Pocahontas boots for the entire meal and not feel ashamed. Sometimes casual is a good thing; Just don't let anyone see you. And so is an amazing steak.

Leopards in London

To all of my Leopards: I do apologize for my lack in posts as of late, but have most recently jet setted to London for a weekend of fabulousness alongside my cousin. Obsessed with Paris and not much of a fan of the Johnathan Rhys Meyers-esque wormy guys who fill up the majority of the UK, I was nervous at first that the trip would simply be a Europeanized version of any US city and be a complete waste of money. WAS I WRONG! The moment I landed in Heathrow, I was greeted by friendliness, cleanliness, and OMYGAWD-no cigarette smoke! My adoration for London continued from that point forward, as I saw the sights, ate, drank, and partied with the finest of Britain. And that's no bollicks.
Below are my recommendations for London travel. Though I am writing to you from the Heathrow airport due to my delayed flight back to the District (of course, Iceland's volcanic ash is still an issue), I will try my best to recall the most amazing spots and sights of Londontown:

• Eat Indian food: At Bridge Lane or any of the areas around here. There are so many Indian restaurants that are so authentic (minus the smog and unpasturized milk in India, of course), with each one having a host outside begging you to test their restaurant's fair. Not only did my cousin and I eat for £5 each, but also got a free bottle of Pinot Grigio! What's better than that?
• See the Tower of London: Imagine if you had the potential to be decapitated for flirting with another guy. At the Tower of London, you'll learn that this was a reality during Medieval times, while hearing romantic yet grotesque stories about Anne Boylin, Henry VII, and so much more. Let's be honest, it made me think twice about wanting to be a queen.
• Enjoy a true British pub: But stay away from the usually AWFUL bar food (this isn't Italy or Greece...the Brits have other gifts). If you're a Moscato girl like me, go for a cider, which is basically like an apple juice mixed with beer. If you're lucky like my cousin and I were, prepare yourself for a lockin- the bartenders do this at the end of their shifts and keep in the pub's favorite (I mean favourite) guests for free drinking.
• Go to the British Museum of Art: And have many OMG moments. From the Rosetta Stone to several Da Vinci pieces, you're a total doofus if you don't recognize anything. Plus, you'll also get to see the corpse of Cleopatra (wrapped in mummy gear, of course).
• Eat at Pingpong!: If you like the one in DC, you'll LOVE the one in London, with over double the items on the menu and the same trendy atmosphere. Only I got really ugly with the waitress because they had no tapioca balls for my bubble tea.
• See the Ballet: The British Opera House is abosolutely beautiful, and you'll get to see some excellent performances in an old fashioned setting. The  best part? They have two half hour admissions, perfect for some wine in between acts. No wonder I got a little sleepy during the final act.
• Party at Mahiki: The adorable Hawaiin-themed bar near Paddington. Try to finagle your way out of the ridicoulas £15 cover, but even if you can't, the inside is so much fun. Pay £12 to spin the 'fortune wheel', and receive anything from a drink to Mahiki's famous 'treasure chest' (£200 worth of insane cocktails). But be wary of language schizophrenia- this place was so international I was mixing French, Greek, and German all night- and I don't even know German. Danke.
• Spend the day in Oxford: You'll feel so amazing being surrounded by so many smarty-pants', and will even get to see Harry Potter's dining hall (Or the one that they used for the movie, at least). Learn about the ghosts of Christ Church and enjoy tea at The Grand Cafe. It's a perfect escape from London and is super cute.
• Go for tea at Kennsington Palace: As the home of Prince Harry and William, take your chances at getting lucky and becoming a royal by having tea daily in their Orangerie, open to the public. I have the most amazing fromage crumpett ever, and pretended I was a rich royal person for just a hot sec.

Whether you love Posh and Becks or Gwen and Gavin, party with Britain's finest Leopard-style next time you make it over The Pond. You won't be disappointed.

Malcolm X: End of an Era

Someone once asked me who I would want to go out to dinner with if I could be invite three guests, dead or alive, of my choosing. Without flinching for a second, I knew; Lady Gaga, Queen Noor of Jordan, and Malcolm X. Though I don't really know what kind of conversations would be had at this dinner (Lady Gaga's latest head dress? Middle Eastern politics? Black panther rallying?), I do know that it would be particularly interesting and passionate, because of the presence of one very notable guest; Malcolm Little, later known as Malcolm X.
One of today's top CNN stories showcased that one of the gentlemen involved in his assassination, Tom Hagan, was recently released from jail. The other two killers are yet to be determined, but speculated to be from his radical Islam religion.
It's pretty weird that I have such a fascination with Malcolm X, because I'm pretty much everything he hates about white people in a human body; I relax my hair every three months because I hate it curly, I watch reality tv shows religiously, I love flashy designer handbags, and sometimes talk with an affect in my voice that I'm sure he would find less than desirable. I even remember in his autobiography (and movie, for those of you who don't know how to read) that a white girl went up to him, saying she was so happy to meet him in person, and he brushed her off feeling that she would never understand the struggle that his race went through.
But Malcolm X was IMPERFECT. He was a HUMAN. He dabbled with drugs, was prejudiced towards others, and had an imperfect marriage. But he admitted his wrong doings towards the end of his life and knew that people had the power to change, and for that, I find him more admirable than so many world leaders.
If you haven't seen it yet, rent Malcolm X. Not only will you see Denzel Washington in sexy Raybans, but learn about the life of a world leader who is truly no bullshit, regardless if you're black, white, or anything in between.