Recommended: Eatonville is a hit.
I loves me some catfish, and I had a great plate of fried fish and grits last night at Eatonville, a new Southern food restaurant at 14th and W, about a block up from its sister establishment, Busboys and Poets.

I loves me some catfish, and I had a great plate of fried fish and grits last night at Eatonville, a new Southern food restaurant at 14th and W, about a block up from its sister establishment, Busboys and Poets.

A friend gave me a compilation Christmas CD last weekend that has been sitting on my desk. Last night I popped it in the stereo as I was answering emails and I started melting into the groove. It occurred to me how ready I am for the holidays - not just for the parties and the days off of work, but because I think my soul needs it. I need to be around my close friends and family and to spend some time just being grateful and still.
Striking Emily Deschanel's "10 Things You Don't Know About Women" list in Esquire this month includes:
#10 - Don't Wink. Never Wink.
Now I would agree that Sarah Palin needs to lose the wink. Winking is not a good move during a vice-presidential debate.
However, the wink has always been part of my flirt repertoire, so I'm wondering now if I've been making a fool of myself.
So what do you think about the wink? Leave a comment with your vote.
On my way home from the gym today, I stopped into Caramel near 16th and U St. NW and bought a sweater by Report Collection. Local owner Sarah Watkins has a good eye for not-too-too-expensive, hip clothes that are perfect for the 30-something: a good fit between G-Star Raw, which is only appropriate for a 22-year old from space, and Brooks Brothers, the purveyor of clothing for the old-at-heart.
Caramel's selection isn't huge, but it's well edited, yet just broad enough that the guy who doesn't like to shop could go in and buy all his clothes for fall and winter in one stop.
Same idea, but with a more intimidating price tag, is Lost Boys in Georgetown. Owner Kelly Muccio is a lovely - I mean stop and stare lovely - Northern Virginia native who is back in the area after a stint in the Big Apple. Unlike Caramel, which stocks up-and-coming designers, Lost Boys carries fresh but already recognizable labels like my all-time favorite, James Perse, and Rogan.
For those guys who don't know a pea coat from a Members Only jacket, Kelly will take care of you - she'll pick out your whole wardrobe or just something to wear on a first date. But it's going to cost you. The girl's got taste, if you know what I mean. I'm rooting for her - she has done a great job with her shop and deserves to make it. Stop in and drop a few Franklins, and tell 'er I sent you.
This guy has the life I want. Well, almost. I guess I don't want his job or his paycheck or his dog in the house. So I guess all I'm saying is that I wish I had his house and that I lived in Austin.
And I wish I was in Dwell Magazine. If you haven't picked up a copy lately ... give it a try.
Just last night I was thinking to myself, "NTYAMB has been thin following it's return to prime time -- I need something good to post on the blog."
Little did I know that a mere 14 hours later, I would hit blog gold!
This morning I was sitting in Tryst working on a 16 page retirement account plan document for work. What the heck is that, you ask? Boring question with an even more boring answer.
Anyway, as I sat there clicking away on my computer, a cheerful, attractive woman in her 40's approached this average-looking guy in his 30's sitting at the table next to me.
She said, "Tom?"
He smiled. She said, "Hi! May I sit down?"
"Of course!"
As soon as she sat down, the man returned to his book. The woman tried to force conversation, asking a bunch of questions that I could just barely hear about his job, living in Adams Morgan, etc. He would mumble a few words in response to her questions.
After about 5 minutes of this she said, "Tom, you aren't even trying here."
"I'm not Tom," he said quickly as it began to dawn on him what had just happened.
"What? I asked you if you were Tom when I sat down! Why did you say you were Tom?!"
"I didn't hear you ask if I was Tom! I just thought you wanted to share a table!"
"Why would I want to share a table if you aren't Tom!? There are tables all over the place in here! How embarrassing!" she said as she quickly collected her things and scurried off. Poor lady.
The guy looked at me, dazed.
"I heard her ask if you were Tom," I said, not being terribly helpful.
"Great," he said as he returned to his book.
"Do you mind if I write about this on my blog," I found myself asking before I had a chance to think about it.
He chuckled, "I don't care."
I thought "what the heck" and asked, "Can I take your picture with my phone?"
"No f*****g way."
I guess that was pushing it.
Only now as I write this does it occur to me that the real Tom was still sitting somewhere there waiting for the woman who left in an embarrassed huff.
I love CNN's debate coverage technology: you can watch the pundits score each candidate as they make point, and a frightning group of straw poll voters from Ohio on the set show their real-time political temperature as the candidates speak using little remote control thingies with a knob. I couldn't find a screen shot, but you should definitely watch the last two debates on CNN.
It made the debate feel like a video game, which I need because otherwise I would be slamming myself into the wall every time the candidates use the following phrases:
An old favorite ... TACO TOWN! My favorite is the blueberry pancake and the tote bag full of chili.
The age-old rule that you never get a second chance to make a first impression applies to your Facebook profile picture. While making a good first impression in person can be complex -- what with body language, voice, and choice of words -- selecting the appropriate profile pic is simple: it should look like you at your best and it shouldn't make anyone roll their eyes. Done. See how easy that was?
2. No pets. I know your ferret is adorable, but there is no way to do this without coming off a little bit creepy or sad like the cat lady who lives next door.
3. No kids. You are your own person. Have your own profile pic. It's ok to have the kids in the photo with you, but not INSTEAD of you.
4. Keep your shirt on. Facebook is not Match.com. No matter how great you look without a shirt or in your bikini top, this is going to make you look desperate. Look what it did for Sarah Palin above.
5. No booze. No one loves a cocktail more than yours truly, but they have no place in a publically published photo. If you just happen to be holding one in your favorite photo of yourself, crop.
See YOU looking your best on facebook.
Run, don't walk over to "Holly's Top Five" and click on the video under her post called "My Olive Branch". Then stand back and be prepared to be dumbstruck. Wait until the end. The best parts are at the end ...
I just returned from a 3-day staff retreat in the mountains. Yes, it was beautiful. Yes, the weather was perfect. Yes, I love my co-workers and they are a hoot.
But I was without consistent technology for 72 hours and it was horrible. I'm so glad to be within range of my wireless network.
Anyway, I digress. The point is that when our bus barreled into range, I pointed my iPhone toward the headlines to discover that the bailout bill has been delayed and that Bernanke is about to blow a gasket.
This is really bad news people. Our economy is teetering on the brink of the worst financial meltdown in our lifetime, yet what do I find on my Yahoo newsfeeder home page?
Michael Douglas.
I'm not kidding. Apparently, we are on the brink of disaster and the only person the AP could find to comment on the end of the world is Michael Douglas. His authority is derived from his starring role as Gordan Gekko in "Wall Street".
In 1987.
Folks, Lehman Bros. Merrill Lynch. AIG -- these are major financial companies and they are failing or have disappeared into thin air! We should all be huddled together screaming in terror and instead we are all just waiting for the new fall TV lineup.
Well, I'm pulling out all my savings and stuffing my mattress full of gold bouillon and dehydrated food. Don't come to me when you need a few shekels and hand-full of raisins.
This is the way I want to roll - being pushed around the shore in something that keeps me in the shade and up off the sand. Fill my sippy cup with tequila and I'm in heaven.
This pic is of my nephew on the beach in North Carolina. I would like to say I wish I had been there, but odds are I would have been the one pushing the stroller - not the one IN it.
I'll stick to the visits in North Carolina where there is air conditioning and less salt and sand to coat the kids.
Ok, so maybe you are smarter about where you spend your money than me and aren't interested in yesterday's Rolex plug. That's good, because I have a better place to spend, and it will only cost you $50.
I don't have any money at the moment. But for those of you who do have money and are contemplating a timepiece purchase, listen up. The watch that has my attention is the Rolex Datejust Turn-O-Graph. Slate face, oyster bracelet. I want one very much, but I don't have the audacity to purchase it.
If you want to do something nice for me, please send one for Christmas ...
I'm already over this election. I'm so disheartened by the juvenile way in which the candidates are being reviewed, critiqued, and analyzed, that all I want to do is turn off the computer and tv and curl up into a ball until the polls are closed and it's all over. It just doesn't matter to me anymore.
Why? Because the guy who cares about America is too out of it to be able to do anything substantial, and the guy who only cares about his own career doesn't have a clue. Their Veeps are just bizarre and will only have influence if something terrible happens -- and who wants to vote with an assassination or a heart attack in mind?
Where are the Lincolns? The Reagans? The Roosevelts? The Jeffersons?
I'm going to take an Ambien and see you all in January.
So the blog is back. I don't know if anyone is still listening, but I'm ready to start talking. Not that you asked me but ...
I love Salt on McDougal between the Village and SoHo. Unfortunately, I can't find any good pictures on the internet, and I haven't taken any of my own during my two visits. I was too busy stuffing my face with the delicious crusty bread and perfect entrees. I loved the fish special, and the duck was amazing. Have the server recommend a white wine by the glass or by the bottle - they have a great selection. Reservations are easy, but the space is small and LOUD. Spend the day shopping in SoHo, then dine at Salt.
Don't take my word for it. Read the New Yorker review.
When neither Julie Christie nor Ellen Page won the Academy Award for best actress, I thought, "who the heck is Marion Cotillard?" After seeing "La Vien En Rose", I now realize that had Cotillard not received the award, it would have been a travesty. The girl can pretend ya'll.
"La Vie En Rose" is now one of my top five favorite movies. Let's review the list, in no particular order:
1. Central Station
2. Gattaca
3. La Vie En Rose
4. Cry the Beloved Country
5. Juno
Now back to Cotillard and Edith Piaf, whose amazing, yet tortured life is the subject of "La Vie En Rose". To be honest, I had never paid any attention to Piaf, but now I have her on my iPod. I have no idea what she is singing about, but what a voice. It's a voice that packs in a lot of information ... storytelling through and instrument honed throughout a childhood of singing on the streets.
This biopic is devastating and very sad, as Piaf's life itself was, but it is an amazing story shot by a gifted director Olivier Dahan, with gripping video photography - so beautiful that it would be compelling even without sound. Not that the sound isn't essential - Piaf was a force and the Cotillard's lip synched performances drive the film.
Though not a feel-good movie to be enjoyed on fun Friday movie night, it's worth the time. Rent it on a rainy Monday and prepare to be enthralled. Post a comment and tell me what you thought of it.

I like to text, but this is ridiculous ... click on the pic for the story in the Washington Post.