This would only fly in NYC.

Three of Hearts: A Postmodern Family "A meaningful exploration of the possibilities and the limits within any relationship." -- Kevin Thomas, The Los Angeles TimesHow do you describe the unusual relationship among Sam, Samantha and Steven? Marriage-a-trois? Monogamy, with more than one person? Trinogomy? Three of Hearts explores this unique family as the three negotiate their living arrangements, have children and open one of the most successful wellness centers in New York City. With candid discussions about love, sex and partnership, the members of this trio reveal every aspect of their lives to the audience and, eventually, themselves. Directors: Susan Kaplan and David Friedson. 2004. 95 min.Q&A with director Susan Kaplan.Tue, Jan 31 / 7:30 PM / $15

5 Things You Probably Shouldn't Know About Me.

There are several things you probably should not know about me. If you were ever planning on dating me, these things might change your mind.

1) Rats freak me out, but I still love to learn about them.

I am pretty convinced that rats will someday take over the planet like the pigs in Animal Farm. I couldn't sleep for months after reading about the black plague in a high school history class. I walked out of Outbreak, because I was convinced Ebola would eventually spread to rats. I avoided my childhood dog when she was obviously scratching her fleas thinking that the fleas might have begun on a rat, then gotten on to her, only to eventually come and spread diseases to me. I read Rats by Robert Sullivan cover to cover and recommended it to everyone I know so that we could discuss. When I used to live in New York, I would act appalled at the stories of rat spottings in Union Square or on the subway, but secretly, I would thrive on hearing these disgusting anecdotes.
I enjoyed the horrible story of my hot upstairs neighbor throwing a rat to it's ultimate death when he found it on our trash can lid. I wished that I had been their to witness the whole event. Manly man against animal. I have this article bookmarked as a favorite on my computer... even though it grosses me out... and I read it quite often.

2) I name everything.

I've been naming dolls, imaginary kids, animals, homes, and cars since I was a small child. BG makes fun of me for automatically assigning my first name to the last name of whomever I'm dating. It's not about my wanting to become a MRS. right away. I just love names. I once had 2 gerbils, Snowball and Nibbles, who then raised a family of 22. I named each one and kept a genealogy of their family tree. My dad tried to get me hooked on genetics, so he made me write what color each parent's fur was and then whether or not a dominant or recessive gene was carried over. I followed along purely because I got to name each little circle in my leather bound genealogy table. I named my first car "Tank". I named my new car "Baby". I've known my daughter's name will be Eden since I was twelve. I remember my favorite dolls by name, from Courtney to Max to Natalie to Melanie. When my mother cleaned out my bedroom closet to convert it into a guest room ("You don't live here anymore, what do you care. Your 24 Sam.") , I cried bloody murder to save my favorite childhood dolls. I even used "But I was saving these for my children". My dog has 2 middle names, Buffy Rose, because I couldn't just settle onone simple name. I've even named the rat I see around my trash now, Mimi Ratikins.

3) My feet are the pain of my existence.


I read once that Libra's are ruled by the kidneys. I must not really be a Libra then, because I am ruled by my feet. I wear wide shoes whenever possible. I hate pedicures (but get them anyways) because I don't like anyone being that close to my feet. I only like my feet when my toenails are freshly painted. I get them done once a week during the summer. I always tip 25%. I get foot jealousy in fancy spas. When I was a sophomore in college, a woman in the shoe department at Nordstrom in West Hartford told me that for a little girl I certainly had fat feet. I felt so guilty that she had to be so close to my feet that I bought a pair of shoes I never wore. Sometimes when I am sad about the shallowness of the world, I remind myself that if this were China 100 years ago, beauty would be defined by a woman's foot. This actually makes me feel better. I know I can survive better in a world dominated by men obsessed with breasts.

4) I wish that 1950s style was still in fashion.

I love the way a woman looks in those unnatural fake eye lashes of the 50s. I don't like the eyelash extensions of today that look natural. I wish that we all had our hair at our shoulders with an outwards flip at the bottom. I love dresses that button up the back and pearls and sweater sets. I wish that pantyhose still had a seam up the back, because I think that's really sexy. I'm not a fan of the Abercrombie, natural look. I think women in the 50s looked like women. I like dressing up. I wish that we had more dances as adults so that I could dress up. I wish we dressed more like the bathroom symbol for woman's restroom. I love to dress up in vintage pencil skirts with high waists and pretty cowlneck sweaters when I host a party. I truly believe that curves are beautiful... and this is not just because I've got them.

5) I'm not a vegetarian, but I won't eat anything resembling an animal.

I don't eat chicken when it comes on the bone. I don't eat lobster unless it's mushed into a salad. I don't like salmon that still has skin. Fish that tastes like salt water reminds me that it once had a home. I don't cook with ground beef, because there's draining of blood that has to take place. I despise cleaning chicken breasts before they are cooked, because I don't like having to remove the blood remainders. I often joke that everything I make tastes the same. This is possible because I use sweet italian turkey sausage links by Shady Brook Farms for every recipe. I find that removing the casing and cooking the meat as if it is ground turkey makes it much easier to pretend that I'm not actually cooking anything that once walked.

I hope you still want to be my friend.

Sign Does Matter

Eli's Restaurant on 20th and N doesn't have a sign... just a blue banner. I'm not sure if the food is good. I won't go in to a restaurant that doesn't have a sign. Just seems like the place might be a bit primitive.

Mistakes- Yes, you've heard this before, but I'll try my hand at it.

mis·take (n.)
1. An error or fault resulting from defective judgment, deficient knowledge, or carelessness.
2. A misconception or misunderstanding.

I've made mistakes. Plenty of mistakes. I've left the keys in my front door overnight. I've left my curling iron on while I was at work. I've gotten too drunk without dinner and spent the entire next day throwing up and in bed. We've all had something end up much differently than planned.

My belief is that life has purpose. Simple, old-fashioned perhaps, but all the same, this is what gives me hope that each day may be better than the previous, and this is what makes me believe that my mistakes have a larger purpose in the universe. Yes, I know it is much cooler today to believe that life is a great abyss with no meaning at all. But I'm just not that cynical quite yet. And we have to believe that what we say and do can directly effect the way we live because otherwise why would any of us be good? It is the kindness of other people that makes us happy. Happiness is what we're all hunting.

So sometimes, to my friends and family reading this, I get through the negative mistakes that inevitably appear by knowing that nothing is really a mistake in life. I think that if perhaps someone had broken into my house because I left my keys in the doorway, perhaps one of my friends destined for greatness would make sure to remove her keys everyday. And perhaps, my life's purpose would have been to promote the life of someone else.

Chi Chaing and Quebec

Went to DC Minyan's Friday night Shabbat service at the JCC. I'm apparently the only person who found it remotely entertaining that the all-Hebrew pick-up scene of a service took place in the basketball gym of the JCC next to the pool and smelt of chlorine the whole time. It was nice to see that many people my age taking pride in their religion and tradition, however I couldn't shake the feeling that everyone there was checking out what I was wearing. The boys and girls sit on different sides of the room and the whole group faces Israel, coincidentally in the direction of the pool. But anyways.

Woody and I came back to my place and I made dinner for us. Then we hit Chi Cha Lounge for one of his friend's birthday celebrations. I like Chi Cha, don't get me wrong, but the Friday night crowd is definitely overdressed and arrogant. I was pushed more times than an elevator button. When it is that crowded there's simply no where else to move, and pushing people isn't going to make your or my night any better.

We woke up late Saturday. Kate and I went to SFW in Virginia to buy cheapish wine (under $10 over $7) and cheese for her friends who were coming to the apartment for pre-dinner drinks and appetizer. The problem with America's youth? Well, for starters, the fact that our check-out clerk asked Kate what the UK stood for on her driver's license. Even after she said United Kingdom, he asked her if she was from Canada. I'm not sure if he was indicative of the entire youth of America, but it was certainly no good sign of what's to come of our nation.

After several bottles of wine at our apartment, we headed to Merkado on P Street for a fabulous dinner at moderate prices with amazing service. Woody got hit on at the bar by some dude though. Apparently, he's a man magnet... Which I guess I'd prefer seeing as it's not really competition for me... Well unless he decides that's the way he'd like to live, but at least it's not a worry about why I couldn't satisfy him.

We headed up to the Quebec House to the party room (actually called this with a door plate and all) for a Jewish party complete with everyone having slept with someone else there, crap alcohol, and proper mingling. Quite fun. Woody and I went back to his place afterwards. I was tired and BG was making me mad. Not sure why he still is able to emotionally effect me to this level. Not sure how to properly apologize to Woody. I want to be with Woody... even though it's still too early to tell... and I don't doubt for a second that BG and I are not meant to be anything more than friends. But we're still fire and water when we fight.

Today, I went to a pointless committee meeting to help set-up a series of events totally out of my sphere of interests. And committee leaders need to realize that while they may find pleasure in dawdling over the issues, it's a waste of my time if you gloss over what you want for me in favor of talking about what your agenda may be. Especially when committee leaders are paid for their work. If you want my help, don't keep me for an hour discussing my connection to the subject. Please tell me what you want my help with, how much time you need from me, and what my next steps are.

Now I'm resting. So so tired. Want to sleep.

Holy Shit... My friend forwarded me this...

-----Original Message-----
From: JMz
To: Sam

I know this is odd for those of you out of state...but my friend is in a contest to be married and she wont meet the guy until the wedding day..i know its odd...but read what she wrote and if you can vote for her, we would appreciate it!!!

---Original Message-----
From: Brandy
To: People

HI, WPLJ is taking votes for "brides" ... please go to www.wplj.com as soon as you can, click on the 2 strangers and a wedding icon, scroll down to vote for your favorite bride and click on me, Bride #1, Brandy THANKS FOR ALL YOUR SUPPORT!!!!!!! XOX Ran

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
---Original Message-----
From: Sam
To: JMz

I'd rather be a spinster...

I've learned last night that there is a women's football team in Washington, DC named the Washington Divas.

Since this name obviously brings to mine Beyonce tackling Diana Ross, I decided to see whatever clever names we've installed in the NWFA. And while I realize campy names are quite funny, I do think some of them have managed to set women back to the days where Mary Tyler Moore was only permitted to wear pants in one scene per show on the Dick Van Dyke Show. What would the mascot be for the Tidewater Floods or the Antelope Valley Assaults... a tampon and a scary looking mugger respectively?

Winter Wonderland

We would have been absolutely fine chatting the night away at the Madhatter for Happy Hour last night, with the $2.50 glasses of house wine and $4.00 chicken quesadillas, but the second JL spotted a cock roach crawling on the booth about SG and I, we were out of there faster than a white rabbit.

So we made our way up Connecticut to the Front Page . Seeing as the DC adult population is supposedly much smarter and driven than in most metropolitan areas, it shouldn't have come as a surprise that a large portion of these go-getters were apparently trying to get themselves Front Page noticed. Unfortunately, the swamp of people made it completely impossible to move an inch, let alone get a drink at the bar. We made a very wise decision to keep our ear drums functioning properly, and we moved downstairs to Buffalo Billiards.

Buffalo Billiards was much larger than Front Page and much emptier... why do we always do this to ourselves?! We always make the most happening places the smallest and most uncomfortable. Can't we hire some of those "just out of college do gooders" to stand in Dupont Circle and get random people to sign a petition for all of us to agree that we will no longer commit to frequenting places that don't have the room for hipness? I think this is as important as figuring out who should be on the Supreme Court or deciding what religious group should get Israel/ Palestine. This is about our happiness as the trendy, urban twenty-somethings that we are...

Please tell me the following isn't slightly deserving of an Oy Vey. I've put in red the things that I laughed at... I get it, I mean I really get it... it's not about who you are, it's about who you know. Trust me... I get it. But seriously, is this a warning signal of what the next wave of adults in our workplace are going to be like... no cover letter, no context, no drive, just a lazy freaking e-mail like I've got nothing better to do with my time than to give out contacts. What ever happened to career centers, way back in 2002 when I graduated, who made us learn to write. I e-mailed the chick back for more info on what it is she WANTS to do. I mean, Sales or Marketing, could be me connecting her with a Customer Service representative at AT&T. Right?

-----Original Message-----
From: m@university.edu
Sent: Thursday, January 26, 2006 3:45 PM
To: Sam
Subject: Hi:)



Hi (insert the misspelling of my name when my e-mail address has the proper spelling),
My name is M, my mom and your Dad were friends when they were younger. I will be graduating this coming May from University. I know you used to work in NY, and I was wondering if you knew of anyone in Marketing or Sales in the city who I could speak with. Any contact would be great!
Thanks so much in advance!
M :)

I have a secret...

I often crave the salad/ hot bar of Whole Foods and not because the ingredients are fresh or because the tortellini is divine. What I like to do? I like to fill my plastic container with a little bit of pasta salad, antipasto, chicken and pesto pasta, macaroni salad, potato salad, and grilled veggies... always under 1 pound of course, I've got to maintain my girlish figure... and I like to shake the plastic container up and mix all that random crap together. It's so weird... I know. And I get embarrassed doing it in front of people, so I usually pull the "Oops, the wind tossed all my stuff together." or "They totally bagged this wrong" after I jump around with the bag behind their back. It might have something to do with the Bobby Flay phenomenon. That's what I call the inability to like any food that doesn't overwhelm you with a million different kicks of flavor. After Mesa Grill's brunch in New York two years ago, scrambled eggs have tasted boring to me... and corn bread has never been the same.

So that's my secret. I eat like I'm 12.

Luck be a Lady

Went to see Matchpoint last night with Woody. Crazy thing, the idea of luck. I've always believe that luck is a balancing act fate plays on the world to keep it at equilibrium. Like the people who always win in Vegas... I've always thought they must not have had as balanced a life as I have... nothing really amazing has ever happened to me. I've never won $50 on a scratch ticket or found $100 laying on the ground. I don't really have such luck. But I have a balanced life. I had an excellent childhood with a loving family and never wanted for anything. And when I work hard, I get what I want. So my life is pretty great... not lucky... but great. Then this movie, "I'd rather be lucky than great." Hmmm.

I am scared of getting hurt by life. Now that I am 26, I've begun to be able to admit these truths to myself. I want to resolve them or have them just evaporate into the future. I am scared of being judged. I am scared of being let down. I am scared of letting myself enjoy a moment too much because I don't want to want something later on that I can't have for myself. I am scared of time. I am scared of not ever being good enough for someone. I am scared no one will ever be good enough for me. I am trying so hard to not let my fear get the better of me, and I am scared more than anything else that it will.

So I've been trying to focus on those little moments of complete happiness lately. When I can just close my eyes and know I'd rather not be anywhere else in the entire world. Like last night, falling asleep with Woody next to me. I liked that feeling. And I guess, all we can hope is that we can continue to focus on those tiny morsels of momentary happiness that sneak into our everyday life and make us not so scared. And I guess, that within a life of fear comes the reward of feeling safe. I know now that when I feel safe that I am going to be okay. Safety without fear would mean nothing... like flying in a plane... if you weren't up in the air, the relief you feel when you landed wouldn't be so divine.

And that's what's been on my mind. Well, that and the fact that I really liked Clyde's of Georgetown, I really liked hanging out with Woody, and I am looking forward to cheap happy hour with JL and SG tonight. Yay!

I now own a new dresser thanks to a very sweet BG (who's back I am sure is now very hurt). I just have to motivate myself to put it together AND dispose of the old one. At least we're having people over for Kate's birthday on Saturday. The last thing I'd want anyone to think of me was that I was slovenly.

SG and I are planning on going to this event on Thursday forwarded by JK. I had to write an extremely self-important e-mail to the RSVP address at the PR firm. I laughed alloud while writing this e-mail, well actually, mainly through "Tehe" e-mail forwards to my friends of the e-mail and variations of the e-mail. The final product went as such (from my work address no less):

I would like to RSVP to Thursday's event on behalf of myself, Sam, and for SG of Company. Several of our colleagues and friends will be in attendance and have asked that we accompany them to the event.

Best,
Sam

Oh yeah. So probably didn't need to be THAT self-important... but anyways... no bounceback e-mail as of yet. Turns out the PR company does an event with my company that I actually will be organizing. Whatever, I'd still plan on going regardless. And it was kind of fun writing such a stupid freaking e-mail.

Possible variations:
Although I have absolutely NO reason for attending your event on Thursday, I would like to RSVP because I hear you'll have free alcohol and wine. Thanks.

I'm hot. My friend SG is hot. We'd like to come to your event. I blog, but I'm not slutty, so no worries about this becoming a novel or anything. I don't really like dirty old politicians anyways.

I work for the FBI and have assumed a fake position in Washington at Company. I'm also pretending to be a lesbian. I'd like to RSVP for Thursday and will be bringing my lover. We use the same first name to confuse anyone who might want to kill us.

Okay, see I could totally be building my dresser now.

Dress Undressed

I'm cheap about buying furniture. I tend to buy really cool looking pieces and "dress" them up. Take my dresser. I decided about 2 years ago that I had too much clothing and not enough room in my two closets and one dresser... back when Mom and Dad paid my rent for my two bedroom abode in Westport. So my mother found a deal at Sears on a 4 drawer dresser. Sounded fine to me.

The problems began with the drawer bottoms. They wouldn't stay in place and began buckling from the pressure of my tank tops. So I duck taped the bottom.

A couple of months later the white plastic paint veneer started to peel. Rather than strip the whole thing and paint, I got my ex to paint it a matte white.

After some more months, I spilt a soda on the top of the dresser. Somehow this managed to stain. I probably should question what was in the soda, but instead, I bought a throw to cover the top.

And then the drawer knobs started falling out. One at a time, the supposedly metal screws that held them in place began snapping in half or all together disappearing. So I bought new knobs.

When I moved to DC, I debated giving it away. But I brought it with because I was too lazy to organize giving it away, and I stacked my VCR, DVD, and television on top of it. As it started to bend, my mother offered to buy me another. I didn't feel like looking for another.

Finally, the drawer track fell out of place on the top drawer. I tried super glue and destroyed a wonderful tank top in the process. I came home from work last week to find that the top drawer had fallen into the other three making it completely impossible to open anything. I could have removed all my clothing then and there, but with some sort of autistic reaction, I continued to use the dresser.



I awoke Friday with an inability to find anything to wear. That did it. I announced that I must go buy a less crappy new dresser immediately.

$500 for a new dresser. That's about 3 pairs of premium denim.

So I'm going to IKEA. I found a great one priced at $69.99. I'll need to install knobs and paint it white. And this is my life.

Caps vs. Bruins

Met JM last night for the NHL Washington Capitals vs. the Boston Bruins at the MCI Center in Chinatown. Bruins won. JM's from Boston. He was happy. I've got no allegiance. Although, less fighting in hockey makes for a less exciting game. Zero tolerance sucks for the fans.



I met JM off the Red Line. The Caps have a great group ticket deal for their "Eagles Nest"... the nosebleed section... seems you can get 1 ticket for $10 or 4 tickets for $20. JM and I decided to go with the 4 tickets and text message some of his friends to see if anyone was up for the game. Happily, JK was able to make it. I love her. She's the cutest thing on the planet. Truly. We ate a kind of crap dinner at Szechuan Gallery on H Street. Mainly because the Mongolian restaurant next door had all you could eat for $15.99 and neither of us was too hungry.

The game was interesting enough. It was JK's first hockey game. As JM put it, hockey is strange in that it's dramatic for a split second and then not so fascinating for another hour... and it ends anti-climactic. Killer moment was when there were 3 minutes left in the game with the Caps at 2 goals and the Bruins at 3. Puck flies off the goal post which sucks for the Caps. Of course, it was almost 10. We were okay with the game not being tied... another change in the NHL rules. Damnit. I saw NO blood. No blood at a hockey game. Come on people.

Chapters

About 6 years ago, I read The Celestine Prophecylike everyone else in America. So it's fiction, which I realize, but it did indicate to me the importance of paying attention to signs and patterns in our lives. Since I believe in fate, destiny, and everything in between, I started to pay attention to patterns. I had a recurring Kennedy pattern until I finally moved to DC... where I knew I was on the right path when there was any form of Kennedy connection... be it a friend meeting a Jackie and knowing it was meant to be or having my new roommate be indirectly connected to the Kennedy's. I knew I was meant to be in DC when an actual Kennedy called my dad the day after I'd made the decision to move to DC for information on a book he was writing. I knew everything would work out when my Aunt gave me the business card of a girl she met in Montreal who had just moved to Washington as a fellow for the John F. Kennedy center. So that was a pattern that has died down a bit since I got here. I'm now living in a bit of a Woody Allen pattern. But stranger than that is a zip code pattern I've found myself unraveling. I worked in New York at an office located in zip code 10036. My new job is at an office in zip code 20036. Apparently, if this continues, chapter three should take place in Decatur, Georgia located in zip code 30036. Here's the rest.

Lockport, KY 40036
Boone, IA 50036
Barataria, LA 70036
Westminster, CO 80036
Los Angeles, CA 90036

Strangely, no 60036. Lord help me if I end up in Barataria, LA.

Sunny Weekend Review

Went to my Shabbat Cluster dinner #2 on Friday night at Woody's place. My lasagna worked out just fine. IH made a wonderful dessert called Monkey Bread. So yummy. After dinner, I went to Chi Cha Lounge with Jeff and Woody. We ran into BG, the girl he's hooking up with, and one of his friends. So here's how DC works...

BG and Woody went on an International exchange program together in college.
BG and I went to high school together.
Woody and Jeff went to high school together.
I'm cousins with Jeff.
Woody went to college with BG's two friends.

Ain't that incestuous.

Stayed at Woody's for the first time. Quite nice. We woke up early Saturday and went to Synagogue at Adas Israel. I liked the service, but I'm not sure if I want to join Adas or DC Minyan yet. Younger DC Jews seem to go to DC Minyan. It holds religious services, with men and women sitting separately, at the JCC. At dinner, I heard the most appalling story ever. Apparently Orthodox Rabbi's are required by tradition to put a babies you-know-what in their mouth after performing a circumcision and babies have been dying of herpes. Check it out for yourself. Jeff: "Well, it only takes one dirty baby." Oy.

I went out last night with BG and Kate to Kate's boyfriend's party in Georgetown. Two Cranberry Stoli and Sprites (remarkably good) and I was officially tipsy. BG and I left around midnight and headed to a party at Saint Ex. Male bartenders are such a good thing. Took me a record 3 minutes in a packed bar to get a drink. We danced the rest of the night to Sean Paul and Earth, Wind, and Fire. Quite fun.

Today, I've been a bit of a waste case. I went and got throw pillows and picture frames for Kate's birthday... I'm adding some finishing touches to her room so she can feel more at home. About to go to Arlington to meet a friend from Bama and her husband at the Carlyle Grand Cafe for dinner. Lots of pressure to bring some with me, but unfortunately, I got no one to bring. Honestly, I think the couples care more than I do. I'm comfortable being third wheel.

And that's all. Tomorrow night, I'm going to a hockey game with JM. Then Tuesday, I look forward to sleeping. I am really tired. But I'm having fun.

Who knew Bama's history and architecture could fill an entire book? I just borrowed The Alabama Catalogue: A Guide to the Early Architecture of the State from someone in my office. I'm interested to see how we've influenced America other than Harley Davidsons, BBQ, obesity in America, and by bringing the National Average of children going to college down a couple notches. It is quite a beautiful state. Mind you, there's so little population to fill up the immense state land that we probably have a better ability to save old homes and history. Plus, with Dixie flags all too common on everything from bumper stickers to clothing, I suppose it keeps the focus on making sure the South will indeed rise again.

Last night SG and I went to Habana Village on Columbia Rd. for some mojitos and cuban food. The fried yucca was divine. IH came and met us afterwards and ordered the most interesting take on a burger I'd ever seen. It was basically a chicken friend steak slapped between a baguette. I left around 9:30pm and popped into BG's to sober up a bit before walking home. This was apparently a grand idea, seeing as the 10 minute walk home was much easier than the 2 minute walk to his apartment from Habana Village. Always a bad sign when walking is difficult. Probably not at your best health.

Tonight I've got my Shabbat Cluster at Woody's. It's a bit strange that the first time I'm seeing his pad will be with 9 other people. My cousin is coming too, so it should be a fun time. I only hope my lasagna isn't so horrid that a starving cluster is forced to eat each other. Okay, it's so Friday and my mind is so not working properly. I better get myself to work before I start fading.

Eye for an Eye

Went to Eyebar last night to meet Woody for a Jewish Happy Hour. Trendy place. Industrial design with wall art I didn't understand and lanterns that looked like they were purchased from Pearl River Mart on Canal Street. So trendy, in fact, the drinks were served at New York prices even during Happy Hour. My Raspberry Stoli and Sprite was $7.00.

I ran into BG's friend S. Very luckily actually. I saw her first during an awkward conversation with someone Woody knew who remembered me from a Young Judea trip to Israel in 1996. I was 16. I was opposed to clothing in general, favoring mini-skirts and slutty tops. Hell, my boobs were only about a year old at that point, cellulite was Japanese to me, and 30 sounded like old age. So great, here I am feeling the need to justify that all the boys in her group were much much hotter than the ones in mine. My group actually left me her group in the end-of-program Will. Fabulous. So S saved me from that conversation and then later on while I was being asked "What's your life story?" by some guy who resembled Dr. Evil. She works right near me. I must take her to lunch.

After the Happy Hour, we came back to my place and ordered yummy thin crust pizza from Alberto's... 1 hour for delivery or 15 minutes to pick-up. Not sure how that works out. According to Kate and Dan, there's one guy on a bike only. Might not have the motivation to go pick it up always. Pizza Hut it is, I suppose.

Prior to meeting Woody, I put together my veggie lasagna for our Shabbat Cluster on Friday night. I'm saying put together because I have no idea what it may taste like. I'm from the South. I love meat. I cook with meat. Veggie doesn't make sense to me in the kitchen. So basically, I pulled together about 12 different recipes. I didn't even know how long to cook the damn thing. My mother had to google search to find out an "average". I don't make a very good Jew.

Tonight, I am meeting SG for drinks at an opening for Nana on U Street. Then we're eating at Habana Village in Adams Morgan. Free Alcohol and Fried Yucca. My sort of night.

There goes the neighborhood...

No more kegs in Bama? There ain't nothin' else to do down there. Does this mean perhaps we'll be able to raise the percentage of public school kids who apply to college from 17%? Notta, just means there will be much more Crystal Meth being used.

My horoscope today:

The truly important things in this life have absolutely nothing to do with work, money or how nice your car or house is. It's time to start paying attention to the things that matter rather than giving them lip service.

Wow, I just spoke to the nastiest person on earth. What becomes of people engulfed in anger? AW and I were discussing this during the weekend. I guess I just have to believe that they will eventually get what is coming to them. Like this horrible woman I used to work with at the magazine. She was the most evil and manipulative person I've ever met. Seriously, when she walked in the room, everyone in the room became tense and agitated. And yet, her career was blossoming, she got engaged in Paris, honeymooned in Europe and the guy was wealthy. So where does it eat her up, the karma I mean, and when does she get what's supposed to be coming to her? She certainly offsets the balance of fairplay in the world. I imagine that perhaps my horoscope is right. Perhaps work, money, and a successful partner are what she has, but perhaps for her the important things in her life suck... like her friendships and her heart. Okay, no more dwelling. She sucks. Move on.

So BG came over last night for some cheese and Whole Foods hot bar dinner. It was relaxing and nice. If 90210 had been on and we'd not had the whole hooking-up thing a couple of months ago, I could have sworn we were back in High School again. He's hooking up with some friend of a friend who seems like a good person for him right now. He thinks he wants a relationship, but I think differently. So it's probably best that he's not hooking up with someone he can hurt badly, especially since no one is ever good enough right now... a good sign that he's not ready for commitment. JM, on the other hand, is in a mega-married relationship suddenly. Although, I'm actually quite proud of him and impressed by the maturity he shows when getting involved with someone. Who knew he could be such boyfriend material.

Today I'm going to meet someone from the JCC to discuss which committees I should join. I love this chapter of my life so far. I'm going to try to join another group which is known for auctions and high-brow volunteering too. New chapter, new me, I missed being so involved.

Tonight I'm off to Eyebar to meet Woody's crew for happy hour. I'm a bit nervous. I hope bar Woody is as endearing as over-dinner Woody. We'll see.

Oh the problems of the upper-class. A battle of the Ivy League private club-goers

TK: Damnit, I've become a member of too many exclusive clubs. I'm actually forgetting which ones I've joined. Jeeves, bring me my slippers so I can mull over this a bit.

Seconds anyone?

I was shown Secondi today on Connecticut Avenue... a haven of designer clothing on consignment, with a decent eye for vintage as well including a pair of magnificent Pucci flats (size 10, too bad, although I did for a second ponder if I could stuff them somehow) and a gorgeous camel wool cape from the 1960s I'm sure.

I fell madly, deeply in love this weekend. I can't stop my mind from obsessing over what outfit compliments my love, where I can take my love, how people will perceive my love. Of course though, I am talking about my first pair of Ferragamo shoes. Bought on sale at Saks in Chevy Chase. They were so lovely, so comfortable, so simple and classic. I love them. I really really really love them. Funny enough, I had a severe hangover from an alcohol-filled Saturday night with AW in town. I had taken just about every medicine in my house with no luck of headache redemption. But when I tried on the shoes, my headache disappeared. The cliche is right, love is the answer to everything.

I was in need of serious sleep Friday night, so my weekend began on Saturday. SG and I went shopping on U Street and in Adams Morgan. I found a 70s orange suede vintage vest and cable-knit cape at Nana on U Street. Nana's got one impressive collection of Wrangler jeans. I need to dedicate a couple of hours to trying on the different styles.

AW came in from NYC later in the afternoon via the Chinatown bus. We went to dinner at the wonderful Nooshi. I finally found a good, fried, cheap Pad Thai in DC. In New York, I was obsessed with Isle, a little-known Thai restaurant next to John's Pizza on Bleeker Street. My home away from home in NYC. Except I'm not Thai, whatever, you get the point. Anyways, I've found my Isle off the Island... and I am excited. I might bring my shoes there sometime. I think they'd like it.

After dinner, we met up with my childhood friend from Bama and her friends at Gazuza. On my second visit to DC's try at a trendy hooka bar, I'd say it's much better minus the scummy bad date.

We went to DC 9 afterwards, and yes I realize we were officially bar hopping. A glorious band called Hello Tokyo was playing. Pop. Fun. Good. Really good. The scene was apparently tres Indie rock. Unfortunately, my eyes only saw out-dated Betty Page haircuts and lots of girls wearing ties. I must have missed the boat on understanding that scene. AW and Kate seem much more accepting.

We night-capped at the Tabard Inn. Sketchy bunch of people leftover at that place around 1am. Won't be dropping in there late-night again anytime soon.

Sunday was a day of vintage shopping on U Street. Meeps hosted our oooohs and ahhhhs and helped AW look like a couture 50s diva in a grey swing coat purchased admist little doubt. Kate returned from the UK, and we all ventured out in the bitter cold to try Busboys and Poets on V Street. 3 men in news boy caps (apparently the beret of today's poetry set), slow service, good wine, and great pizza pretty much summed up the evening. The restaurant is comfortable with it's schizophrania... deems itself as a restaurant/ internet cafe/ bookstore/ performance space/ bar.

This morning I found a hobby. No easy task to narrow down the field of things I can do in my freetime besides play a computer-version of Scrabble. I will be beading. I even bough the flat-head plyers. The experience was less stressful than I anticipated. Beadazzled had several wonderful trained beaders working behind the counters, and they offered me a super-easy pamphlet, bead board, and guidance on everything from cording to clasps. I'll let you know if I'm actually any good at this hobby... I'm just excited I've found a hobby and true love all in one weekend.

And that's all. Great weekend. Sad to see AW go. Good friends only come along once in a while, and if I've learned one thing from the past couple of months, that's perfectly okay... since they stay with you throughout each chapter of your life.

I would like to take a moment of silence to honor the greatest diet food ever created. Spaghetti Squash.

Cut this miracle food in half. Clear out the seeds. Pop it cut-side down on a cookie sheet with 2 inches of water in a 350 degree oven for 45 minutes. Then flip it cut-side up for another 30 minutes. When it has properly turned pumpkin colored, scrape out the insides with a fork. Voila... Weight Watchers point-free spaghetti. With some fat-free Mozzarella cheese, grilled chicken, and a good marinara sauce... you've got yourself a guilt-free tasty dish.

Between this delightful miracle dinner, Subway's Sweet Onion Chicken Teriyaki sandwich, Baked Cheetos, and Fat-Free Fig Newton's, obesity should not be a problem in America.

Check This Baby Out...

Ah the problems with caring more about clothes than technology. I'll be the first to admit, it took me until 2004 to buy a DVD player... and only because my mother got me one for a gift. So my computer is old. Really old. It's struggling to even open blogger. JfJ, Jr visiting from Bama couldn't install Compuserve. My stoner computer had no brain cells left to accomodate. And worst of all, my computer is so damn old that it doesn't understand wireless internet. So there's a long phone cord currently strung from one end of my apartment to the other. My roommate's been quite pleasant about the obstruction. My mother, of course the typical Jewish mother, believes that the computer is just fine. It just needs some tweaks... maybe some diamond studs to make it look prettier. Anyways, basically she found this InstaJack. Suprisingly, kind of cool. It sends a signal from one outlet to another. I'll let you know how it works out. I'll also let you know if I've decided to wear all white and lock myself in my room a la Emily Dickinson seeing as my mother is definitely officially more technilogically advanced than I.

The Parent Trap (1961)

I am currently watching The Parent Trap circa 1961 on the Hallmark channel. I've seen it about a million-and-one times counting right now. I've never noticed that Hayley Mills' English accent is completely out of place. No one, not the grandparents nor the parents, has an accent. And her characters live in California and Boston. Where did she get an English accent?

Also why exactly did Disney choose Hayley Mills to play 2 characters? Wouldn't it have been easier, and completely doable, to have identical twins play the part? I'll buy Michael Keaton in Multiplicity playing 4 characters... it would certainly be harder to find identical quadruplets who could act. But twins are pretty common.

Favorite line in movie. Dad describing the mom to the wrong Hayley Mills. "She's fat with big red bushy hair." "Last thing I heard she went off to Spain and married a drunk." Hmmm. Nice guy.

Oh and the dad calls his daughter "Peanut face". Lovely. How horrible that these people split up their children? I must wonder about parents willing to lose one of their children anyways.

Skeletor

On my walk home from work last night, I walked past another entire family resembling Skeletor... from He-man. This may seem a strange comparison to some, but there's an entire DC race of people that look like actual skulls. I assume that with all the inbreeding in the cities past, perhaps they just keep prospering. Woodlawn Plantation was home to George Washington's nephew, who married Martha Washington's granddaughter. Gross. Yeah, why don't you think about that for a second.

And no one else here seems to notice these skeleton like people. They're not particularly skinny... but many are particularly light haired. Their noses look as if a layer of skin is all that separates the nose from the skull. They have long, John Kerry-esque, faces. Really.

I went to the Madhatter on M Street with JM last night for happy hour. Apparently, if you were the type who would do anything at all for a free drink, you can wear a crazy hat to the bar, and the bartender may award you a free drink. Happy hour included $2.75 house wine. It wasn't the best, but who cares at that price. Burgers and starters were half priced. Dinner was $14 for JM and I. His friends Elvis and C came to meet us. C was hot... Honestly... strawberry blonde hair, buff-body, plus he worked for NASA and wants to be an Astronaut. So yeah, hottie. Since I'm not off the market yet, I can still look. Except... he had that Skeletor nose thing going on. And I wondered, after 2 months here, am I starting to be conditioned to find this attractive as well? I mean Hitler was 1/4 Jewish?

I ran into Woody on the street. He took off his glove to shake my coworkers hand. Vibe on the first impression according to EG. A 10. Full size umbrella. Tie. Cashmere grey scarf (which I know his mother bought him). So charming. So cute. Asked me out for next Wednesday. He's okay with the Annie Hall reference. Made me promise to see Match Point with him. Dinner and a movie in Georgetown. Despite the cliche, I felt the need to say that my heart racing... be still my heart. Unfortunately, I got ready in 30 minutes this morning. Why couldn't I have bumped into him yesterday or Monday. I looked much cuter both of those days. Fully dressed in heels and a skirt. Today, all in black, hair in tight bun (done soaking wet), long coat. Go figure... Murphy's Law. But The Rules girls would be pleased. I've known about each of our dates a week or more in advance. Perhaps he's read the book? Or maybe they're right. Maybe the good ones really do treat you as you're supposed to be treated.

What's the relevance of the this?

Love the quote. Think the context is ridiculous and misused. From some sample sale newsletter I must have signed up for back in my Publishing days Can we therefore come to the conclusion that GirlieGirl Events is saying that bringing cheap designer clothes to the income-challenged of New York something that matters?

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Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.
-Martin Luther King, Jr.

* Girlie Girl Newsletter *xoxo www.chloejo.com
Sample Sales, Parties, Events, Benefits, Shopping, Reading, Music, People Watching, and a bit o politics -- what else does a city gal need?
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WHAT: Girlie Girl NYC Designer and vintage trunk show.
WHEN: January 12th - THURSDAY - tomorrow from 11am-6pm.
ONE DAY ONLY
WHERE: Soho Dance Studio - 598 Broadway (at Houston St.) Sixth Fl.
DESIGNERS: Pleats Please by Issy Miyake - Tracy Reece - Y-3 - Danang - Salt works denim - Juicy Couture Denim - Henry Duarte Denim - Anthropologie - TONS of vintage
TELL ME MORE: Milly pink and cream tweed jacket was $630 now $99, Joolay brocade crop tweed bolero was $150 now $50, Salt Works assorted sizes bootcut and straight leg denim Org. $190 now $79, Vintage brocade lurex gold metallic opera coat mint condition $78, Gorgeous knits for $20-30, Tees from James Perse, 3 Dots, and more for $10, and so much more that our fingers would ache from the typing!
Cash only.

What happened to the days of a Value-Pak free 5-day membership pass to Gold's Gym printed on glossy, flimsy paper? Here's the personalized invite I just got in the mail. Type-writer typed address on envelope. Actual stamp. Pictures of skinny blonde and brunette with high pony-tails and whitened teeth on treadmills. Buff dude in tight red spandex top and one ethnic woman in all white doing yoga, I think.

Inside reads:

As a select member of our Washington D.C. community, you are cordially invited to experience the finest sports and fitness complex in the world.

Complimentary One Week Membership
The Sports Club/LA
1170 22nd Street, NW

Hailed by the Washington Post as having a "high powered membership representing Washington's glitterati" and described by New York magazine as "the purest expression of gymness ever built", The Sports Club/LA is a world class sports and fitness complex designed to fulfill your every fitness need.

Please RSVP by January 24th, 2006
Reservations are limited.

Yeah. Going into that glamorous trash can of mine. Not even worth recycling. And WHAT is gymness? Can a magazine just go and make up a completely ridiculous undefinable word?

Anyways, my events went well all day today. My body is in need of some serious rest. And I had to go to Virginia to Target to go buy out the pantyhose section. Funny actually, reading Freakonomics. Levitt is comparing crack to pantyhose. Pantyhose, before Dupont created Nylon in the 30s, were made of silk and a sign of high-class. Nylon allowed them to be used by the masses. Class to the masses. Before crack was invented, cocaine was the drug of high-class 70s society. Crack brought cocaine to the masses. So basically, I'm going through pantyhose in DC like crack. Seriously. Perhaps that's why I'm apparently getting crap mail with gymness RSVPs limited.

We're holding a focus group to discuss our Christmas Card line on Thursday. I am excited to actually use what I learned in Marketing Research class back in college. I am watching the process of designing new cards. Okay, I'm a complete dork, but it's freaking amazing that I'm finally getting that college tuition's use.

An Elephant Never Forgets

I just completed my first event planning in DC. The event was held at an ex-President's home. Top Hat themed. Little chocolate top hat pastries. Got me thinking about how calm I was this time around, and how I owe this new ease to the things I have learned in 2005. I will eventually forgive, but I will resolve to never forget.

1) I've learned that hard work does bring reward, but what seems like a blessing can in fact be a test of your character in disguise.

2) I've learned that good friends are like a good perfume... just a small dab on the wrists takes you through every part of your life.

3) I've learned that devastation is the world's way of teaching you about yourself.

4) I've learned that if you listen to your intuitions, even when they seem ridiculous, you'll make a move (to a new city and to a new job) that is best for you. No one else will ever be able to tell you what you want if you don't know yourself.

5) I've learned that sometimes when we get what we want, we achieve it purely as destiny's method of showing us that we had what we needed all along.

Chapter 2006

According to my Greek coworker, Greek Orthodox religion requires that one destroys all pictures and memories related to someone no longer in your life upon becoming a Widow or Widower. Popular relationship therapists suggest that upon a break-up one should do the same. I have grown much in the last several months... all building to New Years 2006. What I've learned, 2005 was the year that changed my life. So in proper mourning for my past, I've started a brand new blog. Abruptly deleting my past one... all 66 entries... because this is a new chapter.