Redline Makes Me Like Sports

Okay, that's a lie. Unless I'm watching Cristiano Rinaldo or David Beckham, I'm pretty much bored and over it. However, Chinatown's latest sports bar haunt, Redline, serves up tons of HD tvs with the latest games, great food, and actually serves beer in a way that does not make me feel like a classless fatass (individual taps accompany every table, so you actually have two drafts of your choosing available at your table- so a la mode and VIP-like). After going to watch the Barcelona/Madrid game this past Saturday, I remembered how much I actually like the place. And aside from the fact that it's owned by a friend of mine, Redline caters not only to the sporty frat-boy crowd, but to the sports bar-haters like me who cringe at the idea of spending a Saturday afternoon watching a game at McFaddens.The menu is also AWESOME- food is delectable and goes to show you that watching sports is not an excuse to consume mediocre food that's a bazillion calories (for the purposes of examples, I had a caprese salad and tomato hummus while "watching" the game). But the leather couches, brick walls, a cosmopolitan question, and, yes, lots of guidos and prepsters mixed into one room? Redline is definitely a spot that caters to and satisfies all taste and styles. And, after my Saturday afternoon, I was proved wrong-I thought I was the only one who dressed up to watch spots.

Haunted Hotel, San Fran Style

Already lectured by my significant other that it was stupid to stay in Starwood Hotels, I think the Marriot gods answered his prayers and had it in for me on my latest trip to San Francisco. And boy did they. Realizing that the gorgeous St. Francis Hotel, recently acquired by Westin, was not only in my company policy but was also five star and would contribute to my Starwood Points, booked myself for what I thought would be two nights of luxury. I was wrong.

Let me preface this by saying that my experience will not- and shouldn't deter anyone- from staying at the hotel in the future. The service is top knotch, the architecture is elegant, and Bourbon Steak, the restaurant located inside the hotel, is insanely delicious. However, two nights ago, I decided to have a late night cardio sesh in the downstairs gym. On my way back to my floor, which was the twelfth, I decided to take the elevator to the Old Tower, which is the historic section of the floor. Upon getting off the elevator, and call me crazy, but this huge draft of freezingly cold air blew down the hallway so quickly that it even moved my clothes. Regardless of the fact that I still wasn't sure if this was supernatural or not, it took me by surprise, not to mention that the Shining-esque hotel surroundings made the experience all too creepy for my liking.
I was pretty shaken up, and decided to ask the concierge if there was a forceful air conditioner or something that that on the 12th floor- he would either think I was the craziest guest in the world, or provide me with some resolution to what happened. Well, after telling the concierge what happened, his facial expression quickly changed.
"There are no vents, or even windows, on the floor itself," he explained to me, "And we get notified about something like that happening once a week. Guests have felt wind, others have seen doors slam, and some have even seen the figure of a white apparation. A silent film star passed away on the twelfth floor in the twenties, and weird things have been happening up there ever since. I don't even go up there late at night."

I was totally tripped out, asked to have my room moved, but with the hotel entirely booked, ended up having a glass of wine and sleeping with the light on.

Maybe it was coincidence, but the fact that I was even sleeping on a floor deemed as haunted was enough to shake me up. The Westin St. Francis is a gorgous hotel in the heart of Union Square in San Francisco- Just don't stay on the twelfth floor. Needless to say, I wish I stayed at the Marriot.

Real Housewives of DC- Nixed for Good?!

Yes, Bravo fans, it’s true. Yesterday, Andy Cohen released a not-so-pleasing announcement for Washingtoniennes everywhere, as the first season of the Real Housewives franchise gets denied another contract for a second season. And while Micheale (I don’t know how to spell her name correctly, nor do I care to learn how to. Why can’t she just call herself Michaela?) Salahi definitely stirred up some juicy drama in the season finale (and is now the official laughing stock of the District… but props to her, I wish I knew how to crash a White House gala), the show just didn’t cut it. And as a Washingtonienne myself who has proudly represented the city for nearly seven years, I was bored out of my mind after two episodes. Sure, Lynda’s neurotic antics were adorable (along with the man on her arm, Ebong), Kat’s British grace was elegant, and Mary’s see-and-be-seen attitude definitely mirrored Housewives in other seasons (she’s constantly at the W), our political mentalities and cultural awareness totally take precedence in the District over a decadent spending lifestyle that is perfect for a reality sitcom.


Regardless of how rich women are in the District, they just don’t give a crap about Herve Leger, Bentleys, and plastic surgery the way that members of the other Housewives’ franchises do. DC is a totally different culture than most other cities in the country, perhaps with a more European, je ne said quoi charisma to it that is fast thinking, forward processing, with entertainment totally off of its radar. And while I’m definitely happy that I don’t live in a city full of bimbos, DC has got to let it go with this reality TV thing- we’re not hot enough, controversial enough, or dramatic enough to cater to America’s viewers in the reality television constituency. And that’s fine; Let’s be honest, I would SO take Barack Obama over Camille Grammer any day!

Don't Wear Ed Hardy in Portland

Despite being constantly exhausted, my weekly travels to the West Coast have been eye-opening, fun, but most importantly, have exposed me to the idea that the ‘guido phenomenon’ is something only popular and somewhat trendy in the East Coast- more specifically, totally UNcool unless you’re raging in the Tri-State Area, Rhode Island, or Connecticut. On a recent trip to Portland this past week, I learned this the hard way. Fully equipped to comfortably travel on my eight hour flight out of DCA, I wore what any normal person would; Leggings, my Sacajaweah-esque moccasins, a black juicy zip up, and an Ed Hardy top underneath. Let’s just say that why my travels were comfy, the servers at the ultra-hipster hot spot Clyde Commons downtown were not impressed and treated me like I had the Bubonic plague or something.

And while Portland is definitely NOT a fan of Ed Hardy, Juicy, or anything else that’s sparkly and fun for that matter, it’s truly an adorable city. Surrounded by the mountains and greenery everywhere, the streets are clean (you might as well be equal to a murderer if you litter in this uber-Green conscious place), the sky is grey, and I feel like I’m in Columbia Heights every corner I turn. And in typical blogger fashion, here are my dos and don’ts of exploring the city, after having made two trips in the past two weeks:

DO

• Indulge in some local coffee. Seriously, I never knew hippies, hipsters, and punks alike were so obsessed.

• Drive over the bridge to Vancouver, Washington. It’s an artsy city and you can say you’ve been to Washington!

• Have a fabulous dinner at June. The service is phenom, the food is amazing and all organic/sustainable/whatever-they-call-it, and you’ll leave having been to one of Portland’s best eateries.

• Check out Distiller’s Row. It’s a street in Portland where every bar brews their own beer. I’m not a beer person because it makes me feel fat and like I’m a trashy college girl every time I drink it, but it’s definitely a pretty cool spot.

• Stay in the Westin downtown: I’ve stayed there both times I’ve gone and they treat you five star for the price of a four star. The rooms are huge, brand new, and beautiful, and addressing me by my name every time they see me? I seriously feel like Cinderella. Or JLO.

• Go to the Portland Art Museum: I didn’t do this. But I heard it’s fabulous and you’ll feel cultured.

DON’T

• Wear your sparkly hoop earrings from Bebe. Seriously, it’s not appropriate here and you’ll stick out like a sore thumb.

• Try to go outdoor tanning. It’s cloudy eighty percent of the year and it ain’t gonna happen.

• Flaunt your Republican beliefs if you have a conservative school of thought. Apart from Provincetown, I’ve never been anywhere more liberal in my life and you’ll probably get tarred and feathered if you start talking about George Bush, the war, or anything like that in a way that’s favorable.

• Heckle the city cyclists. As much as I hate this new bicycle fad that has swept our pop culture, there’s too many of them here and you’ll probably end up in a fight if you try to start anything.

• Wear pink, turquoise, or any colors outside of the grey/Earth-tone palate. You’ll be SO un-Portland if you do.

Need more of an image of beautiful- but very, very crunchy- Portland, Oregon? Check out the ultimately hilarious clips of a new show, known as Portlandia, on You Tube. Poking fun at feminism, hipsters, and the protest scene in general, you’ll have a laugh and totally get a better sense of what this city is all about. Plus, you’ll be able to start planning your wardrobe before your trip out to the beautiful Pacific Northwest.