Here's what's made me laugh this week-

SC's perfect description of a tiny little girl with round glasses that we met at the Gazuza happy hour on Thursday night. The girl is in SC's new cluster and was screaming at some dude on the phone, who is also in SC's new cluster, about how he hooked up with someone else while they were dating. In the midst of our comments on the happy hour while walking back, SC pointed out that "that girl who looked just like a button is going to cause some drama in my new cluster."

---------------

My roommate had me snorting from laughing so hard about American's butchering French pronunciation. She's British, if you didn't know that, so when she first came to DC, she kept pronouncing our French words they way they're supposed to be pronounced... so when she asked someone where "Doool" was (Dulles Airport) or "Doopahn" (Dupont Circle) they thought she was crazy.

-------------------------

APK asked me what clothing he should bring to Vegas seriously. He's going with some friends in two weeks. In typical girlfriend mode, I began to pick out the most horrendous items in his wardrobe and suggest that he wear these items together. He looked at me, blushing, when I suggested he wear his bright orange shirt, white pants, logo belt, and grey sport coat out. He has tried wearing a similar combination while in Miami, and his father made him change. Maybe I should just sit back and let him pick out whatever he feels is appropriate... perhaps the "That Stripper Really Liked Me" t-shirt with the orange shirt unbuttoned on top and the plaid Michael Kors pants. Yeah, that just says he'll pick up a quality woman much much hotter than I am.

---------------------

We have been invited to a William Howard Taft party on Saturday night. I had to share the Evite. The text reads:

Have you ever:

(A) Grown a mustache?

(B) Run for a political office?

(C) Gotten physically lodged in your own bathtub?

WELL then, we're glad we just invited you! This is because, on June 3rd, our house will be host to The 2006 William Howard Taft Lookalike Contest, where Taft wannabees from as far away as Arlington, VA will come to present their personal interpretation of the life and times of the 27th President of the United States (nickname: "pudgy-wudgy boy").

(Note: This party theme was the result of five solid minutes of roommate brainstorming late last night, and truly shows that four young men who want to have another party won't let something such as "not having a reason to" stop them.)

(Note 2: If someone actually shows up looking like William Howard Taft, the status of this party would instantly skyrocket from "the lamest party of the year" to "the dumbest party of the year". Some advice: he probably wouldn't wear flipflops).

My legs hurt, because I have begun waking up at 6am to run/walk 2.5 miles. I am beyond out of shape. How'd I get to this point after only a couple of months in DC, especially since I walk to work? In New York, I walked miles a day. I'm not a very good dieter, and I definitely only enjoy working out because I know it will bring me the physical appearance I desire. Honestly, if my tooshie doesn't look better in a bathing suit from the workout activity, there's no way I'm doing it. I can't imagine ever being one of those "I enjoy the way I feel after I work out" people. My dad's like that now. He works out to stay healthy.

My dad had a heart attack 5 years ago. Since then, he's given up smoking and started walking on a treadmill every night for 2+ hours while watching a movie. My brother and I haven't lived in Mobile since his heart attack, so he's basically taken over our playroom. Where once there was a ping pong table, he has created a gym of sorts- rowing machine, stairmaster, 2 stationary bikes, the treadmill, a weight lifting bench, punching bags. My mom is embarrassed. The carpeting is destroyed... but infact the most humorous part of my dad's new commitment to his health has got to be the bits of OCD that shine through.

He doesn't rent movies or watch them on HBO, Cinemax, or Showtime. My dad buys the movies. And he doesn't just buy movies in the way a normal person would buy movies, he lists the titles in a special PDA. If you happen to mention any movie at any time while hanging around with him, he checks for the title in his system. I once mentioned a Lifetime movie, Homeless to Harvard, over dinner and got an email from him a week later saying he had won a bootleg copy on eBay. The movies sit in boxes and plastic shelving units all over my ex-playroom. After he's finished watching the movie, he places them on designated wooden shelves with a Dewey Decimal-like filing system. His friends often borrow movies... call our house Arniebusters. He enters the number into his PDA at check-out and return.

On the far wall of the playroom, my dad has purchased and hung a map of North America. On it, he maps his imaginary cross-country journey on foot. As he hits major cities throughout the US, he marks the spot on the map with a sticker and date. I remember when he told me he was almost in Massachusetts back when he first began his walking... I felt like asking him if his imaginary friend was coming too. So far, I believe he's walked from Canada to Mexico and California to New York about a million times each.

In figuring out that I acquire habits as rapidly as my father, I have learned to create my internal motivational programs a little bit more constructively. I know that I can't take a day or week off from exercising when I begin a regiment. I won't go back to the program if I break from it. I know that I can't resist eating the whole box of brownies if it's in my fridge and I'm dieting, so I eat the one I wanted and toss the remains out. As with my dad, it's less about the goal and more about the consistency in my behaviors. So 6am, sore or not, I'll be running. Over and over again.

ROAD RALLY ON S STREET: SATURDAY, JUNE 3, 11 am

To commemorate the return of Wilson’s 1923 Rolls Royce Silver Ghost, a
gathering of historic Rolls Royce automobiles will take place on the 2300 block
of S Street, NW on June 3. The cars will take off on a motorcade at 11 am into
the Dupont-Kalorama area, circling Sheridan, Dupont, and Logan Circles, and
returning to Wilson House for review on S Street. The Chesapeake Area Rolls
Royce Collectors Club and other individual owners will participate in the
festivities. The rally is part of Museum Walk Weekend, an annual family festival
offering free admission and activities for all ages at the eight museums in the
Dupont Circle-Kalorama neighborhood. PRESS INFORMATION For more information,
please contact Sara Durr at 202/966.3679 or sdurr@woodrowwilsonhouse.org. Press
images can be found in the News section of the Woodrow Wilson House website: http://www.woodrowwilsonhouse.org/.

Yeah- you know where I'll be Saturday morning.

Country Roads Took Me Home-

APK and I got back into DC yesterday afternoon. It was hotter in DC, by the way, then Mobile.

We kicked off Memorial Day with a happy hour Thursday night in DC at Gazuza. I don't like Gazuza. I think I'm the only person who feels this way though. The inside smells. I've been to plenty of hooka bars, my 26th birthday dinner was at Le Souk in New York afterall, but nothing smells like Gazuza. As you walk in the door, a layer of smoke attacks you...

But the happy hour was mainly outdoors, luckily.

APK is totally hypoglycemic so we left around 9:30 to get Chipotle, another place I'm not that into- I just think it's overpriced and overhyped. We were up at 5:30am for the flight to Mobile.

So highlights from the trip- APK's not a dog person. My dog is not a dog person either- she's a little human trapped in a dog's body (and yes, I know all dog lovers believe this about their pet). So Peaches, my 15-year old dog, went into APK's bag and stole his package of breath mints. My mom found little wrapper pieces all over the house. APK kept the door to his room closed for the remainder of the trip.

At a bar with a good friend of mine growing up on Saturday night, APK looks around and declares, "If I liked blondes, this would be the place to be." My brunette friend and I nodded knowingly.

We went to another one of my friend's houses on Sunday to swim and lay out. Her new husband is a millionaire. He started a business in college that does really well. She lives in a 10-acre house with a pool and 2 6-foot plasma televisions. He drives a Porshe. What did APK choose to be impressed by? My friend points out the full size baseball field her husband is building on the other side of the lake on their property. APK looks out with admiration and states "This guy is my hero." My friend is definitely still grounded though. She still wears JCrew, cleans the house herself, and gives herself pedicures. See, if I suddenly came into millions, I'd hire a full-time housekeeper and get my toenails done every single day. But that's just me.

APK ate entirely too much apparently. I heard about how full he was over and over again... but of course encouraged him to order the fried okra, fried green tomatoes, and fried oyster and shrimp po-boy. Heck, we were in the South! Fried food is a staple.

We had dinner with my parents at Felix's Fish Camp on the water on Saturday night. A guy I graduated high school with was a waiter. I spoke to him briefly. Here's what you can imagine my life would have been like if I had stayed in Mobile:

Guy: Hey. I didn't recognize you.
Me: Yeah, well it's been 8 years. How are you doing?
Guy: Good. Making some money over the summer. You married?
Me: No. I live in the North now. We get married later. Are you married?
Guy: No. They get married too early here.
Me: Well, you should move to DC. The average age is 30.
Guy: Yeah. Well, you should ask for me the next time you come to dinner here.
Me: Will do.

I suppose no women really talks about their careers in Mobile. Funny that I have no idea what he is doing with his life. Only thing I know is that he's unmarried. I imagine that if I'd stayed in Bama, not being married and with child might be a bigger deal.

My Sweet Home Alabama

Bama ROCKS! Totally and completely sweeeeeeeps every other state who claims they are musical. We have 2 of the 5 AI Winners who call us home. We have 3 of the 10 top 2. And frankly, there just ain't no other place like my sweet home anywhere.

As I said during a mild argument over dinner Friday night with a boy from New Jersey:

"So you've lived in DC for how many years now?"
"5"
"And when people ask you where home is, what do you say?"
"I say DC."
"Well, see now, that's the difference between people from Bama. I haven't lived in Bama for 8 years. I go home about twice a year. I don't ever intend to move back there. But, for as long and wherever I live, when people ask me where my home is, I will forever say Alabama."

So yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay! Taylor won! I guess some friends of mine were in Gulf Shores at their beach house on Tuesday. They went to a restaurant/ bar called Lulu's which is owned by Jimmy Buffet's sister (who incidentally was a patient of my father's once). The bar was packed full and the TVs all over were blasting American Idol. My friends ended up at a table with Taylor's family... who sat in tears while the bar screamed and shouted on behalf of their native contestant.

Just think about it. One year ago, Taylor was a local Birmingham celebrity playing some worn out bar with smoke covering the air and beer penetrating the clientele. He was wishing to make it in music and yet he probably knew he'd never get a random agent coming into the bar to sign him. And here he is- with a record contract- teaching little boys in Bama that they do have a shot at making their dreams come true.

So yeah, I cried when he won.

23rd Annual Dupont-Kalorama Museum Walk Weekend

Saturday, June 3, 10am - 4pm & Sunday, June 4, 2005 1pm - 5pm

The Dupont Kalorama Museums Consortium (DKMC) will sponsor a weekend of local museum exploration with the Annual Museum Walk Weekend Saturday, June 3, 10am - 4pm and Sunday, June 4, 2005, 1pm - 5pm. Since 1983, this family festival has drawn thousands to Washington's "Off the Mall" museums for a variety of free activities for all ages.
Anderson House; Fondo del Sol Visual Arts Center; Mary McLeod Bethune Council House; Meridian International Center; The Phillips Collection; The Textile Museum and Woodrow Wilson House will be open free of charge.
Enjoy sheep shearing demonstrations, poetry readings, an antique car road rally and a neighborhood wide scavenger hunt to name just a few of the many events of the festival. A variety of special museum exhibitions, live music, food and activities for adults and children are offered throughout the weekend.
Free shuttle buses will be provided. On Saturday, an information table for the public, with schedules and maps, will be situated on the North side of Dupont Circle Park.
Please note that not all museums will be open on both days. Event held Rain or Shine. Sponsored in part by Dupont Circle Main Streets, Whole Foods Market and Awards Limousine Service.
For more information on activities go to www.dkmuseums.com

From My Cousin-

Hicks Could Factor Big in Alabama Primary

But in Alabama, the home state of Taylor Hicks, the chubby, Birmingham-born
finalist, Idol has become a bit of a nuisance for some of the professionals
whose business it is to focus on the old-fashioned kind of election -- and
the state of Alabama has a big one on June 6.So popular is "Idol" that the
show's viewership in the state has exploded, dwarfing anything else on
television. (more)

Withering Heights

APK informed me of a typical guy debate- Would a dude rather be 5 foot 2 with a huge you-know-what or 6 foot 2 with a tiny you-know-what?

This, in typical male fashion, probably ends with a decision that a large asset is more important than anything else in the entire world...

As a girl, here's my take on the topic.






There's a guy I know from college who's 5 foot 5. That's not super short considering that the average chick is 5 foot 4... but it's entirely too short for my best friends and I from college who are all in the 5 foot 7 range (on another note, how weird that girls flock together by common height and shoe size?) This guy is by far the hottest guy I know. He's just gorgeous. Everyone thinks so. He gets any girl he wants when he wants them. I'm told he's of average you-know-what. His looks are definitely what makes him most attractive.

There's another guy I know of through a friend in college. He's very attractive and about 6 foot 3. He makes tons of money and is very sweet. What do we call him though? We call him Pinky Man. Yep. He ended up sleeping with my roommate at one point. She was cool with his interest in me a year afterwards, but I was warned of his shortcomings. Infact, I was warned by several people, including his friends, of his shortcomings. And I didn't hook up with him. I suppose that had something to do with the fact that he had slept with my roommate too... but all the same, the fact that he was known for being small definitely played a factor. I suppose that if he'd been such a great catch it might have been brought to my attention over the fact that he was lacking in other areas.

And then there was a 5 foot 6 guy I was into Junior year of college. His dad was Portuguese, I think... something to that effect. He looked like Michael J. Fox, and yet was cocky beyond belief. I thought it was cute that he was a bouncer at a local bar. Seriously, who's going to take him seriously? But I was wrong. The guy was bigger than Mark Wahlberg in Boogie Nights. So I suppose I was attracted to his arrogance and confidence which apparently came from his knowledge that he was well-endowed. I didn't want to sleep with him. I actually thought it might hurt... and besides, I assumed that for him to know it was large, he probably was with his share of women... which made me think he was dirty... which made me stay away.

I know plenty of girls who prefer their men be average. Average height. Average looks. Average you-know-what. Personally, I don't like really tall guys. I think 6 foot is my ideal. I'm just not that into tall and lanky. Plus, I like looking like a model on someone's arm. And a guy that is too pretty is also an issue. Girls wear make-up and do their hair after they get out of the shower. Guys look the same from stepping out of the shower to waking up. I don't want a guy who looks better than me first thing in the morning. I'm the chick. I should be the more attractive one. And guys with huge you-know-whats don't know what they're doing in bed. They think they don't need to learn. A guy who's average probably knows how to use it.

So men, and APK, in my opinion... I'd want to be a guy who was 5 foot 10 with an average you-know-what.

Mutual Friends

I am currently in the process of figuring out what to do about an ex-friend with whom I share several friends... 2 friends in particular who we both consider close friends.

I went through this all just under a year ago when Jerk and I broke up. I fought as best I could at first. I didn't mention my pain and hurt. I made sure that whenever we hung out I was soooooo much fun. I made sure to stop asking these friends what they were doing on any given night to avoid an uncomfortable conversation where they told me what they were doing and then couldn't invite me to come along because Jerk would be there. I made sure to ask them to do thing weeks in advance and take "maybe" as an answer.

Jerk didn't take the same considerations. He invited them all to a happy hour not a month after we broke up (after 3 years together) and also invited his new girlfriend. When I saw one of our mutual friends the next day, she avoided me. Finally, I asked what was wrong. She said she had gone out with Jerk the night before. I asked why that mattered. She looked down and told me she met his new girlfriend. Then she had to tell me what the girl looked like...

It put a big strain on our friendship. I had to spend even more energy convincing her that, even though Jerk was happier without me in his life, my friendship would make her happy. In the end, I pulled away. I figured that these friends would realize I was a good friend and come find me. But they never did. And then, when I left New York, they embraced his new girlfriend and forgot all about me. Luckily, I have an amazing group of friends who I know love me individually. It's a horrible feeling to realize that some people don't want to have uncomfortableness in their friendships. They'd rather not have you in their life when it makes their life a bit more complicated.

But, that being said, I had some amazing friends who loved me and stood by and called me every day to make sure I was okay for months after my breakup. And I guess if I learned one thing, I know that it's situations like breakups that help you separate your true friends from the mass of acquaintances in your life.

The difference now is that I am breaking up with a friend. I could go to battle for my friendships. I could. But I won't. I guess at the end of the day, I love my friends enough to know that they are good people who can make decisions on their own. And just because someone is crappy to me, doesn't mean they'd be crappy to other people. I know I am a good friend. I try really hard to be a good friend. I believe in myself in few arenas, but, in what sort of friend I am, I do have confidence.

I also know that true friendships withstand these situations. I stopped talking to two of my very best friends at different points in time for over a year each... and we missed each other terribly. I remember the exact wording I sent to my friend AF after a year of not talking. A serious fight between was brought on by an ex-boyfriend of hers who tried a little to hard to control her life and wean her away from her friends. She had long since broken up with him and had written me to apologize. I was still hurt, and it took me a while to get over it.

Someone brought a picture in from Australia. AF and I backpacked through Europe together and spent the trip escorted by two hot Australians.

The e-mail went something like... "Someone just brought in a picture from Australia. I wish I could call you up and talk some more about how hot those Australians were."

And we've been best friends again since.

Because true friendships come through tough times. I have faith in the people I call my friends. I know that they are mature and can deal with this situation. I need to believe that. I'll try.

Challah, Superheroes, BO, and Prada

To sum up my weekend-

LC, a teacher, ran home during lunch on Friday to prepare the greatest challah I've ever had for our dinner at her house on Friday night. I didn't even need the rest of the gluttonous dinner. I could have lived completely on the challah.

Saturday, APK and I went to SG's Superhero party out in Falls Church. One of her roommates orchestrating the event made her own incredible Incredibles costume. I drank my glass of wine out of a paper Spiderman cup while staring at a poster of Wolverine taped to the wall. SG, who biked 27 miles uphill Saturday morning, didn't feel like wearing any particular costume. She was dressed in a speedo atop spandex leggings with a red sequined fabric draped over her shoulders and a swimming cap. I think she should have titled herself, Super Swimmer Girl. Her boyfriend wore a pink bandana, black spandex bikini bottoms and pink soccer socks. He actually called himself Metrosexual Man. I made them take a picture in my camera phone so that every time they call I can laugh at the outfits again.

We left Falls Church around 10:30pm and headed to Adams Morgan to Bourbon for some Israeli DJs... APK was much more into getting to this event than I was... in fact, when an unanticipated line had developed to get in, we broke into an argument about his impatience and my not caring if we went at all.

Upstairs at Bourbon's Blue Room, the room smelt horrible. Israeli's getting really into Middle Eastern hip-hop without proper deodorant does not make for a good time. I thus spent the majority of the evening chugging alcohol in the attempt to make the room smell less. It didn't work, but we had a good time hanging in the back of the room next to the windows. APK enjoyed dancing to the music and asked me at least 500 times why I wouldn't dance too. I don't like dancing. I especially don't like dancing to music I don't know. Even more, I don't like dancing to music I don't know in a room that smells like a Frenchmen's locker room. My alcohol tasted good though.

Sunday morning I met SG, JG, and JK for brunch. Then headed to Saks and Barney's in Friendship Heights with APK. I fell in love with a pair of Marc Jacobs Jellies which they, of course, didn't have in my size. I found these on-line for a quarter of the price, so I may order them. APK bought two lovely shirts at Saks... and I'll spare you all the details of my convincing him that the John Varvatos shirt was sexy. Thank goodness he wasn't that into the ruffles many of the shirts were sporting. Men in ruffles? I'm just getting used to men in capris. Give me a little while longer to convince myself that every guy I know didn't inherit the gay gene.

Anyways. Funniest comment by APK while shopping at Neiman Marcus-

"So has Prada just completely given up trying to sell to heterosexuals."

Why It Pays to Date an Economist-

Today, I decided I wanted actual proof that Southerners do better on American Idol than other contestants. I created an Excel spreadsheet that marked the top 12 contestants by where they placed in the top 12 (1-12), sex (M or F), overweight or not (Yes or No), ethnicity (Caucasian, African-American, or Other), and Hometown State. APK analyzed the data for me... gotta love the ability to come up with completely useless information. Apparently, none of these factors has any baring on the top 5 even though a large number of them were from the South. However, in the top 12, people do better when they're from the South.

Here's the e-mail I just got from APK.

Aha! I've finally found something...As is CLEARLY evidenced by this regression output -

Table 1 - Analysis of American Idol Contestants 7
15:34 Friday, May 19, 2006
The REG Procedure
Model: MODEL1
Dependent Variable: Rank Rank
Number of Observations Read 60
Number of Observations Used 60

Analysis of Variance
Sum of Mean
Source DF Squares Square F Value Pr > F
Model 4 49.72031 12.43008 1.01 0.4091
Error 55 675.26302 12.27751
Corrected Total 59 724.98333

Root MSE 3.50393 R-Square 0.0686
Dependent Mean 6.51667 Adj R-Sq 0.0008
Coeff Var 53.76871

Parameter Estimates
Parameter Standard
Variable Label DF Estimate Error t Value Pr > t Tolerance
Intercept Intercept 1 7.20664 0.93790 7.68 <.0001 .
SexDummy SexDummy 1 0.01242 0.91053 0.01 0.9892 0.98835
EthnicityDummy EthnicityDummy 1 0.10870 0.90567 0.12 0.9049 0.99788
WeightDummy WeightDummy 1 1.06355 1.33985 0.79 0.4307 0.98640
SouthDummy SouthDummy 1 -1.72671 0.91053 -1.90 0.0632 0.98835
Parameter Estimates
Variance
Variable Label DF Inflation
Intercept Intercept 1 0
SexDummy SexDummy 1 1.01179
EthnicityDummy EthnicityDummy 1 1.00212
WeightDummy WeightDummy 1 1.01379
SouthDummy SouthDummy 1 1.01179

A southerner is likely to finish 1.73 spots ahead of a non-southerner, all other things being equal. Thus either one of two things are true- 1) Voters have a bias towards southern singers, 2) Southern singers are better than notherners. Other than this, neither sex, ethnicity, or body type has any appreciable effect of a singer's rank/performance.

American's Idolize the South

In case you didn't realize it, the South rocks American Idol. And for those who can't understand why we put Bush in office, just check out HOW American's vote for the most popular show on TV- American Idol.

Of the 5 Season's top 2 contestants, only 2 were not from the South. And, apparently, I'm not the only one who thinks the great state of Alabama is truly the best state around because of the top 10 contestants 3 have been from Alabama. More than any other state.


You can criticize our fried food and our accents, but the truth is, you know you want to be Southern. Everyone wants to be Southern.

So here you go, the report.

Season 1- Runner-up from Pennsylvania (booooo!) Winner from Texas.
Season 2- Runner-up from North Carolina. Winner from Alabama.
Season 3- Runner-up from Georgia. Winner from North Carolina
Season 4- Runner-up from Alabama. Winner from Oklahoma.
Season 5- Alabama as the favorite. California as the least favorite.

Thank ya'll for comin'. See you again next season!

The Sweetest Things-

I have an amazing circle of girlfriends. They're all over the United States now, but they still mean more to me than much else.

I've been thinking a lot about my friendships lately. How lucky I am. Even after some of the horrendous things we've done to each other in the past... from hooking up with one another's ex boyfriends to splitting up in Europe to taking out our unhappiness on one another... perhaps making up after these actions has only made our bond stronger. And I started to think about the idea that each of my close girlfriends has such a good heart. They are all so capable of love and understanding and compassion. Perhaps that's why we've been able to work through our fights and differences so well... because we all deeply want for one another's company.

In my sentimental state, I thought I'd tell some of the stories of my friendships.

I'll start with Miss EP. I met her for the first time during sorority rush. She was this skinny blonde girl with the longest, blondest hair. She wore these tight capri pants with a bug pattern. She recalls seeing myself and AC at rush too... in pearls... my hair in french-braided pick tails. We both apparently thought, "goodness, I hope I don't end up with that girl in rush."

But we did end up in the same sorority. We didn't immediately click. It wasn't until a mixer with one of the fraternities that we really started to get along. I hung out with the President of the fraternity. She went off with someone else in the house. The next day, we compared notes. Suddenly, we realize we looked really hot together... a blonde and a brunette... from random places (I was from Bama, she was from an island in the South Pacific).

We had our ups and downs... honestly, I joke that my most committed relationship in college was with EP. We definitely took things out on another much like a married couple would. When we decided not to live together after Junior year of college (she wanted to live in Downtown Amherst. I wanted to live closer to Vermont), we had to split up our furniture like a real divorced couple.

My favorite memories of EP? At my apartment Sophomore year of college, up all night, painting. For hours. Or Freshman year, when I called her the night before my art portfolio was due to be displayed. I was so sick. I knew I had strep throat but I had no time to get to the health center. My roommate offered me some pot. Lovely right. Anyways, smoked it... numbed the pain... called EP because I needed her to drive me in my car up to campus to put up my artwork. She took the bus over and helped me get the whole thing put up. Afterwards, I was craving Taco Bell (yes, I know, cliche much). So she took me to Dairy Mart for some nachos. I proceeded to finish them in about a minute and then threw up a minute later... so then she took me home... and the next day to the health center. The health center later told my mom that I was the sickest person they'd seen all week.

She and LL threw me an amazing surprise party at our favorite bar for my 21st birthday. At midnight. They had banners, cake, etc. She drove to Niagra Falls with me, even though I make her car sick when I drive distances, not once but twice.

We went to Yale three times. Harvard twice. Wesleyan once. She listened to me cry over so many boys. She stood by me when psycho chick in the sorority decided to tell everyone I was anorexic (which I wasn't).

And no matter how crazy I was at times. No matter how many weird situations we got into... she was always there with me getting a medium hazelnut Dunks coffee before hitting the campus center to study. Dressed like matching angels for Halloween. Helped me pick out an outfit for my television movie reviewer debut. Came to see the rather boring play for which I was Publicity Director.

And after three years of only seeing each other every couple of months, I received a package from her after my breakup. A card telling me how strong I was and how I'd make it through this... with a necklace inside that are now labeled my power beads, because they gave me the strength to say to my ex:

"You must move out. And no, we cannot ever be friends. Calling you a friend is an insult to my friends."

The Tabloid Report

For those of you that care, which apparently, more people care than I thought.

Here's what I just wrote in response to your e-mails.

To: BG
From: Sam

no offense bg, but i don't even know how to handle this situation anymore.

what do you want from me?
do you want to make my life miserable in dc? do you want me to move away? do you want me to stop talking to our mutual friends? what do you want from me?

you are the one and only reason i don't like being in dc. the only one. and you, who say you're such a good person, are making me completely miserable.

I've done absolutely nothing to you for you to be this mean and horrible to me.

until today, i've not even talked about how badly you hurt me.

so you tell me, what will make you promise to stay away from me forever- is it not talking to SC? to JM? is it moving out of dc?

i want you out of my life forever.

Scenes from a Mall

My cousin actually worked on that Woody Allen movie with Bette Midler... a movie set in a mall... with 2 Jews... of course, I'd be connected to it...

But anyways.

Last night, I went to buy a present for APK that needed 2 hours to be prepared. I ended up wandering in the mall. Popped into Claire's Accessories, a store I'd not been into in a good 12 years, only to find it filled with half-naked tweens mulling over chandelier earrings. Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen's picture topped the jewelry rounds, and Brittany Spears perfume was displayed on the register. However, I was excited to see a line of jewelry and cosmetics designed by an actual hero... Bethany Hamilton, the surfer tween who was attacked by a shark but got right back out there to surf only 4 weeks after the trauma. She reminded me of Samantha Smith from my youth. Real teen heroes for the next generation of women are scarce. Are we to expect a nation of leaders when the biggest triumph their teen idol faces is the battle against anorexia?

On the personal front, Shabbat Cluster controversy is in the midst. My cousin's convinced it's a conspiracy.

IH, SG, and I all requested to be in the same Cluster. I also requested APK. APK requested me, or so he says. IH, SG, and I are all in the same Cluster without APK. He doesn't know who's Cluster he's in though. SC got her list, and he's not in that one.

Anyways, who is in my Cluster is even more odd. There were over 200 people who signed up making up 31 Clusters. In my 13 person Cluster are three of my friends and BG, who I'm officially not talking to.

SC asked if I wanted to request that the group be reshuffled. Honestly, I don't see the 3 people in my group all that much, so it will be nice to see them. And, there are a bunch of people I don't know in the group too. And, I believe way too much in things happening for a reason to want to change the course of how things ended up. It seems to me that since I assume the people putting these groups together have no knowledge of my personal drama, that some how the world is telling me that I'm indeed supposed to have BG in my life.

Of course he's rather immature and I wouldn't be surprised if he asked to be transferred, but I refuse to do so...

I e-mailed, simply, to him: Subject: Shabbat Cluster. Text: Is this the world's way of telling us we're supposed to be in one another's life?

No response. But hey, can't say I didn't try. Honestly, doubt we'd ever be good friends again. We're just so different when it comes to what we think constitutes a good friend and a good person. I believe a good friend includes you in their life and puts you before their own pleasure sometimes. I believe a good person gives to the people they love- with time, respect, patience, money. I get mad when he leaves two of the people he considers his close friends behind in a bad neighborhood to walk with a girl he wants to hook up with, but barely knows, and then calls himself a good person because he donated bone marrow to a total stranger AND judges me for saying I wouldn't do it. I get mad when he tells me a gazillion stories about his fabulous life not ever asking me to come along for any of the enjoyment and then reports back to me how much money he gave to charity. I find these huge actions of charity to be a mask for the selfishness of a person... unless they are really a giving person, and in general, I don't find him to be one with me. In my opinion, we're not meant to be friends... but apparently, we're meant to be in the same world...

If I Fall You're Going Down With Me

Relationships, both romantic and platonic, are all about the struggle for neutral balance. Interacting with people on a truly personal level is about compromising your state of mind to complement theirs.

My definition for a selfish person is someone who won't work to find an equilibrium of moods. Someone who's too set in their own state of mind to care about how it is effecting mine.

What does that mean?

Being a good friend is listening to a crying a friend even when you've just fallen in love or being happy for a newly engaged couple even after you and a boyfriend have broken up. This doesn't mean that you have to be at the same point of depression or happiness... but you have to bring yourself to a level of compassion and caring. It's what separates good friends from bad ones.

I've had many down friendships over the years. I was always taught to be there for my friends in times of need. But no matter how high I was, they were so low they'd only pull me down.

My ex-friend M from my first two years in college was always upset about something. When her boyfriend ditched her for someone else, she was upset about that. When a guy from the track team slept with her and never talked to her again, she was upset about that. When a friend stretched out her shirt, she was upset about that. She called me selfish for trying to cheer her up, and then, when that was impossible, for avoiding her completely. I look back now and realize that she was the one who was selfish in our relationship. Plenty good was going on in my life, and, rather than be happy for me, she tried to make me go down with her.

My cousin got engaged yesterday. On a Greek Island. To a Rocket Scientist. Yeah, it totally makes me reexamine my romantic relationships and wonder if I'll ever find true love, but yes, I am really happy for her. What does her happiness have to do with my search for Mr. Right? And, what good would my being depressed about the situation be? I'm sure she's hoping I find Mr. Right too. I'm sure she'd be upset for me if some guy trampled all over me. Perhaps that's why she was able to find someone to love her.

Living you life constantly looking for others to join you in your emotions will make you a very unhappy and selfish person. It is much better to find someone who balances you.

If I fall, my friends and boyfriends are NOT going down with me.

I stand corrected

And here's why I'm so not an economist- even though the author deleted his comment, here's what it said:

Not all of your comments on sunk cost are accurate. For example, if you're dating someone and you play kickball with him, the cost of having to see your ex at kickball events is not "sunk". That is, you won't have to bear that cost if you break up with him. It may very well be the case that the cost of having to be with someone you don't like exceeds the benefit of not having awkward moments during kickball--but the awkward moments are not a sunk cost, strictly speaking. It is rational to take them into account.

So I was wrong, apparently, which is why I'm not an economist.

All the Queen's Horses and All the Queen's Men

Went to hear Eleanor Herman speak at the National Press Club last night about her new book Sex with the Queen. She was decked out in a tiara and 16th century clothing. Seated to our right were about 10 people dressed up in their Renaissance Reenactment garb (or so I hope they at least had an activity associated with the attire). The PowerPoint presentation was titled "SexPressClub." The summary of the presentation- Relationships suck. These women marry because they need to marry, and they end up taking lovers to appease a lack of completion in themselves. She ended it by saying that the worst job in the world was being Queen.

The conversation at dinner afterwards brought me to the following conclusion:

As a chick, either you're in a relationship with someone who wants a relationship (thus a stable one) OR you're in a relationship with someone who wants you (thus an unstable one).

(I'm sure for someone out there, they believe they've found both... but trust me... that guy's just really good at playing the game. He was ready for a relationship and then you came around. You can't crack a hard-boiled egg until it's cooked fully.)

Meaning, is it better to find a guy who wants a relationship or a guy who wants to be in a relationship only because he wants to be with you?

From a girl who's had to deal with this issue one too many times, sometimes being with a guy who wants you more than they want a relationship is like being in state of emergency. You're constantly having to take a leap of faith and intuition. You don't know how long it will last or what will make or break it. You end looking at horoscopes and getting sentimental over Delilah on the radio. You need answers to how to make this love work. Why are there no answers? You end up wanting something you know you probably can't have... or at least not yet. You can't talk about events that might take place in a month or a year or a decade from now. Finally, it fizzles. He decides you're not the one. The truth is, even if you were, he's not ready for the "one" yet. He'll make up excuses as to why, but you know, if the timing was right, you'd be right.

So then you find someone who wants a relationship. You actively seek out stability, because it was so lacking in your last relationship. You get to dream in this relationship. You get to talk about marriage and family and kids. You can picture yourself sitting next to this person in synagogue Saturday mornings. They may not be completely perfect, and you probably liked the non-relationship guy more, but the stability is a deal breaker. Sex is good, because you know each time, it can't possibly be the last.

And the you nest. You start spending time together on Sunday evenings watching television. You sign birthday cards together. You have favorite brunch spots and one dry cleaning ticket.

Most women do marry a man that wants a relationship even if he's the right one. They live perfectly normal existences. Perhaps that's a sign of how short a distance we've come from the 16th century. You marry for security. You love for security. You want for passion.

Because as much as it feels good to be wanted, it feels much better to be safe.

Pop and Fizzle

I base the length of my romantic relationships on the distance between the Pop and the Fizzle phases.

When I first meet someone, I'm either attracted to them sexually or I'm not. I am old enough to know that the one thing you'll never be able to build up is sexual chemistry. But being sexually attracted to someone isn't enough grounds to start a relationship. There has to be a Pop.


A Pop is that moment after you've been getting to know one another physically and emotionally when you realize that you really can't imagine not being with someone. It's the point where you overlook whatever quirks put you off at first and start to focus on hugging and kissing your partner. You start to think about them during the day. I usually know I'm at a Pop when I roll over in the morning next to someone and am glad to see them in my bed... and then when I think about them in the shower... since I don't think about much in the shower.

After a Pop takes place, I am ready to commit to that person. Sometimes they've not Popped along with me, but that's not the purpose of this commentary.

I stay in my relationship open minded after a Pop. I try not to let my pheromones attract others. I try to compromise as often as my stubbornness will allow. Basically, I work really hard to insure that my relationship doesn't hit the Fizzle mark.

For me, the Fizzle usually begins with not wanting to hook up with someone every night that we're together (yes, I have extremely needy expectations when it comes to getting some action). When I start to loose sexual interest, I know it's only a matter of time before the Fizzle begins.

The Fizzle is extremely quick for me. I start to pull away. I stop being warm to my partner. I start to notice when their breath smells bad or when their outfit isn't up to my standards. I start wanting many girl's night outs. I don't dress up for the person anymore. As the girl that I am, I do everything in my power to insure that they don't want me.

And then after it Fizzle's, I dwell on the Pop for a while. I cry about the Pop. I go shopping about the Pop. I take long lunches with my girlfriends and wonder when the next guy will Pop with me. I forget the Fizzle entirely.

When APK and I have disagreements, I tend to wonder if this is the Fizzle... because I forget what a Fizzle feels like. I am sure deep inside of me there are all these repressed emotions from tons of Fizzles that I've just locked away... I'm waiting for some explosion some day.... but I think in my heart, I know that, on my end at least, our relationship hasn't Fizzled yet.

White Trash and Tahiti

SC and I dressed as slutty as our wardrobes would allow on Friday night for a White Trash-themed party. Boone's in a gazillion flavors, Southern music, and a host dressed like Kevin Federline made it an interesting evening. The phone call pre-party to SC at 7pm went:

Me: "Do I really have to dress up for tonight? I guess if I go not dressed up and someone thinks I'm dressed up, that would suck."
SC: "Yes. You should totally dress up. We're all dressing up."
Me: "Does that mean I can't wear my diamond studs? Should I just wear a jean skirt and white wife-beater"
SC: "No on the diamond studs. Yes, you can wear that but you need to wear a black bra underneath it."
Me: "It's pretty see-through as is."
SC: "Okay, well just make sure you jack your boobs up as high as they can go."
Me: "With you and I, that could poke our eyes up."

Then, SG (who was over to help me make candy seashells for my party Saturday) and I tried really hard to figure out which of my wardrobe items looked like they were white trash. After trying on my roommate's pink plastic earrings, I decided that white trash= people stuck in the 80s.

I ended up in a decent outfit.... SC wore an Ann Taylor jean skirt. The fattest girls at the party ended up dancing on a table. I suppose that's the way it goes in trashy circles.

Saturday, Kate and I set up for the party all day. Raffia covered the pictures and doors... my bed went in Kate's room to allow for a Tahitian lounge in my room complete with Jacque Cousteau's exploration of Tahiti on video and bamboo fabric all over the dressers and end tables. The two of us also managed to lift a 160 pound keg... which we were both rather impressed by...

I had to buy a crockpot and double-burner stovetop grill in case it rained, which of course it didn't... could have used the barbecue afterwards. The polynesian turkey burgers (ground turkey, brown sugar, apple cidar vinegar, onion soup mix on a kaiser roll with a pineapple slice) were a huge favorite. The polynesian punch (grapefruit juice, pineapple juice, orange juice, sprite, and vodka) was gone in an hour. People loved the make-you-own pina colada set-up with the blender out. Also, the cheese, chocolate, chips, jello shots, french cookies, and the keg were gone. Not so favorable food? The polynesian stew... although late-night people were eating it... (turkey kielbasa, northern beans, chopped tomatoes, garlic, chicken broth, peppers).

As far as my decorations went, people ate the candy seashells... wore the flower hair clips, used the polynesian hula dancer straws, finished the hibsicus plastic cups, managed to get drunk enough to apply the hibiscus tattoos to their foreheads.... all that one can hope for from a french polynesian themed party... the only thing that didn't take off too well? the paint your own suncatcher station. Some people ended up using the paint as body paint.

Kate passed out on the couch. I was in recovery all day yesterday. One of Kate's friends hooked up in her bedroom. My cousin and a girl from my Shabbat Cluster (who I was sure was the girl for him the first time I met her) talked a lot. Flip cup finished off the evening for many...

Not sure it was up to my expectations completely, but then again, I have high expectations for everything I do... Type A personality that I am.

Tomorrow Tomorrow, You're Only a Day Away

Tomorrow's our party.

Our Tahitian-themed party.

It might rain. Good thing I bought that extra outdoor grill- d'oh- I have to go buy one of those stove top griddle/ grills today. Sucks to be me.

Why do I always feel the need to challenge myself? Couldn't I have picked a more traditional theme... anything... even "Oh Canada" might have been easier. Through the process, I have learned way too much about Tahiti.

First,potatoes are totally underrated. Taro root (used for Taro Chips) costs double the price for half the quantity. Plus, a cooked taro root is much more bland than a potato. Terra Chip has a Taro Root version that's not bad.

Tattoos are beautiful in Tahiti. Tahitian custom dictates that tattoos are applied ceremoniously at adolescence. I guess I'm not marrying any Tahitians... they can't be buried in a Jewish cemetery.

Raffia is a great way to decorate your home for a Tahitian party.

Since Tahiti is in the French Polynesian, the cuisine is a mixture of French and Polynesian cuisine- meaning, we can serve Brie, croissants, cassoulets, and pineapple.

Gauguin was really into Tahiti.

Lei's are really more a Hawaii Polynesian fashion statement. Tahititan's wear flower tiaras around their head. A single flower behind the right ear means your looking for a man. A flower behind your left ear means you've found someone. I'm debating wearing mine in the middle just for shits and giggles.

Some Tahitian vocabulary:

Maeva: Welcome

Iaorana: Hi, hello

Arofa: Bye

Manihini: guest

Fenua: Home land

Fare: House

Tamaaraa: A feast

Ma'a Tahiti: Tahitian feast, Tahitian cuisine

Inu: Drink

Momona: Sweets, desserts

Inu: Drink

Mauruuru: Thank you

Moana: Ocean, sea, blue color

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Trust

Wouldn't it be nice if romantic relationships were like normal friendships?

It doesn't matter who calls who, and how many times they call or text or email.

I don't care if my friend goes out with another friend some night.

I don't need countless hours of alone time with my friends.

But then SC pointed out that some friends do indeed treat friendships like romantic relationships... which is true...

"Where are you?" "Who were you with?" "Oh, so you're, like, best friends with so-and-so now?"

It all comes down to trust.

Trust is security.

For some people, trust must be earned. No one has it right away. Time and experiences share garner the attribute.

For the majority of rational people (including myself), trust must be lost. Everyone has my trust until they do something to loose it.

And in relationships, at the beginning, I have to believe that the person I am with will not hurt me. If I believe that they might, I'll never let myself open up. So, if we were to fall in love, they'd not be falling for the real me.

For me, security is the number on thing I seek out in a good relationship. I want to know that when someone is spending time with me, they can't ever imagine not having me in their life. It doesn't mean I need them to "sign a contract" as APK brought up in one argument we had towards the beginning of our relationship. I'm not an acquisition nor is a relationship.

But a contract isn't such a bad idea.

Here's all I want:

I want to know that the person I'm with sees some sort of future with me. Perhaps they're not sure I'm the actual ONE yet, but I want to know that they think quite possibly I could be.

I want to know that the person I'm with isn't just killing time with me until someone better comes along.

I want to know that the person I'm with likes me as a person and not just because they get to have me in bed.

I want to know that the person I'm with could maybe see themselves falling in love with me. Maybe not yet. But eventually.

I want to know that small fights won't diminish my relationship with someone. I want to believe that we can work out our differences in compromise.

I want security... that for the time being, I'm the person they want.

They'll have this right away from me. It's Trust.

Some more thoughts-

I want boys to want me.
I want girls to want to be my friend.

There's much that goes into achieving both. You could easily end up like Dick Hunter if you concentrate on one more than the other.

I established a set of rules for myself around 22. I don't kiss until the third date. I don't have sex until about 3 months have passed. Not that I've always adhered to it... but that's my set rule.

My theory was that I was stable enough when I am single. If someone wants to get to know me sexually, they have to get to know me as a person first.

It's much easier when I'm out with my girlfriends and I see a guy who never called me who I only let feel me up, over my bra. There's certainly less hate when I don't feel used.

I've found that the girls I get along best with don't like hanging out with girls who give it up too early. They fear that whatever guy they meet will not look at them seriously because their friend is a slut. Not that I don't have some slutty friends... but they've usually become slutty only after I got close to them. You can't turn your back on a slutty friend. She needs your help to renew her self-esteem. Slutty friends, in my circle, are a cause. We try to raise awareness that this is not what our friend is all about. "She's so smart." or "I wish I had her abs."

But I digress.

I've also found that with my rules, most guys don't like waiting. They have an ego to maintain. They think that you aren't that into them. But a man must work for his wealth. As my great Grandmother told my mom once upon a time, "A girl is like a paper towel. A man likes to wipe his hands on her and then toss her away."

So they wait. And then what? Well you gotta be damn good in bed. But you don't want to be too good or the guy might think you were a porn star in a past life. Don't keep butt toys hidden under your bed or anything. Be good at the basics.

I'm a huge fan of lingerie. I think of it as an entire secret wardrobe. I like nighties and teddies and those kimono-sleeved satin robes. This is entirely too much TMI for some of you. Apologies.

APK maintains that lingerie is somewhat worthless considering that it just ends up on the floor anyways... but I think honestly he's happy to see me feel sexy.

And, it's not cool to discuss with most friends how much you like sex. You can discuss if you did something new that you can't believe you liked. You can discuss if there's a weird thing about your man's bedroom behavior. You can even get recommendations on good condoms and birth control. But talking about your love for sex on regular basis is a great way to alienate your friends. Even if Sex and the City says so. Actually, considering how dysfunctional those girls were, don't base your friendships on them.

Basically, it comes down to not chicks before... rather keep the ladies and gents in separate places to live a life of many faces.

Sunk Costs in Dating

Sunk costs are non-refundable expenditures made without influencing a final decision.

The example IH, an Economist, used to explain this to me was a fee paid to a travel agent. If you must pay a travel agent $100 to research a time sensitive vacation for you regardless of whether you decide to buy one of the packages she offers you, the $100 should be viewed as a sunk cost. If the travel agent finds a package for you that isn't to your exact time specifications, you should not make the decision to buy the package based on the fact that you already paid the $100. If you don't buy the package, you only experience suffering for loosing money. If you buy the package, you suffer in money and must go on a vacation you didn't want to go on- ie time lost.

Or when I get $25 off at Banana Republic for spending $500… which, according to my mother who pays the credit card bill, is way too often. It's usually only useable for a limited time and nothing I ever buy from Banana is less than $50. But, I feel the need to buy something because I have $25 off. The $25 is a sunk cost. I shouldn't go buy something because I have $25 off. If I need something and have made the decision to buy it, only then should the $25 be a benefit.

So why the hell am I blogging about sunk costs?

Because they are HUGE in relationships. My other coworker (not the S&A scholar), alerted me to how often I make my decisions based on sunk costs.

Money spent on dates should be viewed as a sunk cost. Actually, opening doors and dressing well and other superficial things should also be viewed as sunk costs. You shouldn't stay with someone or expect something from someone just because you paid for dinner or because they have good manners. Your decision to be with someone or not be with someone should be based on whether or not you could see yourself with them as a person.

As far as money goes, take the horrible date I had with a complete a-hole back when I first got to DC. He was a friend of an acquaintance. The conversation was obviously going nowhere. He was aggressive and obnoxious, and the fact that I found him hot couldn't make me attracted to him. I had a full glass of expensive wine in front of me. So, as the conversation dwindled into uncomfortable silence, I stated, "After this drink, we can go on our separate ways." Yeah, it was probably a blow to the guy's ego, but seriously, he sucked. Then he said, "You can leave now." And I responded that I'd like to finish the drink for which I intended to pay… he replied, "Fine then, I'll leave." And proceeded to go up to the bar to pay. I dropped $10 on the table and walked out (I didn't want him to tell our mutual connection that I was bitchy and left him with the tab)… something I should have done the minute he said, "You can leave now." The price of the drink shouldn't have influenced my decision to stay in the company of such a supreme piece of crap. Even for one second.

Or, say APK and I stop wanting to be with each other (not that we do), the cost of his plane ticket to Mobile for Memorial Day shouldn't influence our decision to stick it out and continue dating. I bought the ticket when I thought I wanted him to go to Mobile. If things weren't working out with us, I shouldn't waste either of our time (or my parents' time) by bringing him home with me just because we bought a plane ticket. Not that I plan on breaking up with APK, I'm just saying.

A sunk cost also applies to more complicated matters in relationships. Pretend you are dating someone that you're not that into and want to break it off. Now say your circles are intertwined via kickball. Just because you have to see each other at kickball games doesn't mean you should stick out dating until kickball is over to make things less awkward. In this situation, a little bit of awkwardness is the sunk cost. The cost of staying together unhappily and possibly not having as much fun as you would once the awkwardness past is much more irrational than just breaking up when you want to break up.
So that's economics as it relates to dating. What do you think?

Pictures

I just rediscovered I own a Shutterfly account. I have about 12 albums on it. My dad likes to load up pictures that way to share. Anyways, here are some of the better pics I just found.

This was my first apartment after college. I lived by myself and was single when I first moved in. The kitchen was a wall in the den with no counter space. The S on the wall was a reference to the Mary Tyler Moore Show. I'm a single woman hear me roar sort of thinking. I gave it away when I moved in with my ex, regrettably, and bought a new one for my bedroom in DC.

This was by far the creepiest puppet show I've ever seen. It was performed by Pops Puppets in the suburbs of Harrisburg, PA. Puppeteering, in general, is freaky. It's basically adults who aren't pretty enough to act playing with dolls.

I don't eat oysters, but I'm told the best ones are found at Wintzell's in Mobile. I'm a fan for two reasons- It's been around for decades, and they have quotes all over the wall to prove that theory. AND. There's pecan pie on the menu.

From their website:

After more than 10 years of research, it has been discovered that the best way to open Oysters is to get them DRUNK.Like us, Oysters can get tipsy: then their muscles relax and they open their shells. There will soon be on the market a tablet that, when dropped in water on your unsuspecting oysters, will carbonate the water & have the oysters feeling pleasantly relaxed & open in 5 min. It's mere carbonated water that makes an oysters head go round.

The one and only time I've ever won money on a lottery ticket. It was on my way to Mount Snow, Vermont. I won $4. It was my 24th birthday.

I can't believe I let someone take a picture of me like this! I totally underestimated that the top of a mountain might be colder than the bottom... thus, I ended up having to put socks on my hands and wrap up my ears with a t-shirt. Such a Glamour Don't.

And last, me as Wonder Woman. I wore the actual bathing suit version of the costume in college back when I weighed 5 pounds. This was my adult version of the costume on the last Halloween I dressed up for- 2 years ago. I seem to have Wonder Woman and Rocky a bit mixed up.

Weekending

Sucks it's a Monday. A rainy Monday.

Friday night, I met IH, SG, and friends at Rosemary's Thyme for some margaritas. Walked by Lauriol Plaza where a line down 18th street had formed. I still don't get the appeal of that place. Went with BG when I visited last summer. Waited so long that I ended up not even wanting to drink the over-hyped swirl margaritas and only wanted a big, fat, greasy quesadilla. Could have hit Taco Bell for the very seem quality of food. IH's roomie was saying how much she missed being in her early twenties. Dressing up in half shirts and half skirts and tall, cheap heals for a ladies night out. But those nights were never ever fun. Typically:

1 of your friends left early for a bootie call.
1 of your friends saw a guy she hooked up with at some point with his new girlfriend and spent the rest of the night in tears.
1 of your friends puked on a sidewalk.

And the night was never complete unless you'd met at least 3 guys for whom you gave your number and of which none ever called you again.

So I much prefer my mid-twenties. Staying in my work outfit but sliding on a pair of flip flops. Splitting a cheese and fruit platter amongst the table. Chatting about bosses, boys, and LSATs.
Going home relatively early to watch a movie with the guy your seeing and rest up for the next day of partying. Having a good time first and foremost.

Oh, and random bitching comment about Rosemary Thyme's, what's with giving crappy tortilla chips with the hummus platter? Who eats chips with hummus?

Saturday, went to a Kentucky Derby party then to Paolo's for dinner. Then to Q Bar for a chill evening.

Artwork in smokey Q Bar for sale for $500? Who's buying artwork for $500 in a bar? Maybe $200. Possibly $300. Not $500.

Shock and Awe

My coworker first alerted me to the concept of shock and awe:

The concept of Shock and Awe was first developed by the Pentagon's
National Defense University (NDU) in 1996 as part of the "Rapid Dominance"
strategy. The strategy was first used in Afghanistan. In their 1996 NDU book,
"Shock and Awe," authors Harlan K. Ullman and James P. Wade wrote of the need to
mount an assault with "sufficiently intimidating and compelling factors to force
or otherwise convince an adversary to accept our will."

In dating, shock and awe is the newest term for how men use extreme actions to completely intimidate and dominate the course of their romantic relationship. Otherwise independent and remarkable women are usually the recipients of this horrible tactic.

Take one of my close friends here. She's been dating an undateable guy for a little less than a year. He had never had a long-term relationship before her, and thus, for the first couple of mistakes he made, she was able to rationalize to herself that he was inexperienced. She truly believed she could change him.

But then he learned how to completely shock and awe her.

By unleashing horrible extreme actions, ie in the middle of a normal relationship disagreement regarding communication issues or scheduling issues or money issues, he packed up all of his stuff from her apartment and left saying he needed a break. Confused and in tears, she asked him "are we breaking up?" His response was, "I need time to think." So she thought they broke up. She spent the night restless in bed, crying to her mom, and figuring out what her next move would be.

And then he called the next day wanting to move in together. He wanted to buy a ticket now for Thanksgiving to go visit her parents. He wanted to bring her out with him to meet all of his friends all of the time. He brought her favorite flowers as a surprise. He told her he loved her and didn't want to be apart from her.

And then he got mad at her for running 25 minutes late to a social outing. She apologized, humbly, citing a phone call that made her late filled with bad news. But he spent the entire night mad. Making side comments.

And then he told her he loved her and couldn't live without her and wanted to marry her and wanted to spend more time with her and that she was his best friend in the world now.

And so on.

Extremes. Such extremes that rationale cannot retaliate.

Sometimes APK pulls this out on me. I ask him, jokingly, if he's happy knowing when he's out with me he's going to definitely get some action. And he comments that he enjoys the excitement of not knowing if he'll get to bring someone home.

But then he tells me how hot and sexy I am and how happy he is to be with me.

And then at dinner, he tells me that he's so happy to be sitting in one of the nicest restaurants in one of the greatest areas in America with a beautiful girl. And then he says that without me, he'd just be sitting in one of the nicest restaurants in one of the greatest areas in America with another beautiful girl.

Or another friend of mine, who's man can't make a plan to save his life. He's too busy. He doesn't know what might come up.

And then he's so happy to be with her. To care for her. To have someone as sexy and fun as her in his life.

So you don't get too high on yourself.

So you don't think you have a secure relationship.

So you get so beat down that you think to yourself, "damn, I'm lucky to just be with this person."

And you succumb. You succumb to their will.

Shock and Awe.

So here's my Jack Handey thought of the day:

Is it no longer politically correct to ask why someone has a stick up their butt when they are in a bad mood? I know it is otherwise considered a curse word to use the phrase, but since homosexuals technically enjoy having a stick, of sorts, up their butt... are we implying by saying that someone in a bad mood has a stick up their butt that homosexuals are in a bad mood?

Jazz on Jackson Place

Went to Jazz on Jackson place with JG, formerly known as Grants Boy, and MC. So much fun! $10 ($7.50 if you're a Decatur House member). This includes- admission to elegant museum right near the White House with outside courtyard tented off for the summer, great jazz, wine and beer bar, and cheese and fruit. Oh, and a tour, but we were way too into the alcohol and jazz to go wander. The Decatur House holds these fundraisers on the first Thursday of every month between April and September from 6:30pm-8:30pm. Everyone was much younger than expected... in their late 20s-30s. Great time. Definitely planning on going again.

Afterwards, we went to the 51st State for drinks. The first time I took a cab by the bar, I thought it said the 31st State. It was right after I moved to DC, and all I can remember thinking was, "I will so not fit in! Do people living here honestly know off the top of their head what the 31st state was?" I googled it. The 31st State is actually California. Glad it's really just the 51st State. Clever is much funnier than academic. Although, only in DC would a bar called The Science Club also be so hot.

Going to lunch and then happy hour with IH today. Recovering, slowly, from too much alcohol. As usual.

I laughed at who Smart Bargains thinks their customer actually might be. Seriously, who's on this website with $18,000 to spend?

Saw APK on Tuesday night. It's funny to think that 4 years ago his quirks might have turned me off. Now, after embracing my own as definitions of my own character, I find them the most attractive part of his personality.

Like- He shops for groceries once every 6 weeks. But only at Whole Foods. And not because he's only buying Vegan. He's buying Cheddar Bunnies (organic Cheese Nips) and Annie's Natural Mac and Cheese. Which is so guyish. He's making an effort to eat healthy, but he's still buying total single guy food. He's just paying double the price. And I think that's cute. Go figure.

On Friday, it will be 6 months since our first Shabbat Cluster. Ahhh. Yeah yeah.

The first time we went grocery shopping together, he deemed it a huge deal. I'm a little more experienced in relationships, apparently, so I found this not such a big deal. I bought my Bagel Bites and Lean Pockets at Safeway with confidence. At Whole Foods, on my first trip with him, he blushed as he tossed in a bag of frozen organic chicken wings. I suppose seeing what your partner puts into your body is sort of a big deal. I guess I just label something a big deal when it involves introducing someone to your family or taking a weekend away together.

What other quirks? Well, for the sake of not embarrassing either of us, I'll stop at Whole Foods. Oh, and the strict guidelines of where to put the food away once it's home. Dry Goods on counter. Pastas to the left. Couscous to the right. Etc. Tehe, so cute.

(n) salad bar : a bar where diners can assemble a salad to their own taste

SC and I were talking about the salad bar of dating options available in DC... the Jewish Non-Profit guys, the Ivy League Consultants, the Lawyers, the Capital Hill Staffers, the CFA's... and that's just in Dupont Circle. You've got guys in Arlington, Bethesda, and Baltimore who are even more diverse. AND, the confusing part about the options, unlike in NYC where you might meet a couple different guys where one's sort of into acting and one's sort of into indie rock and one's sort of into Investment Banking. In DC, it's cool to be really really really into whatever the hell you're into. Be it blogging, music, politics, or prose. Every guy is pretty much defined by their interests, because DC is a city full of joiners. Passionate people who enjoy joining things. Doing things. Being things. NYC is much more a culture of independents. Everyone in NYC wants to be the first to do, to discover, to like. No one's that passionate about anything.

But DC. Now DC is a Salad Bar full of individuals, each matching quite well with a variety of other items in the Salad Bar. You can come up with countless matches and combinations. So at what point do you say to yourself, "Now this, this is what I work best with."

It's easy enough to date a couple people in DC at one time, if you so choose. Everyone's got so many interests and an Outlook calendar full of activities... from kickball to volunteering to happy hours to receptions to brunch. You could find someone who has similar activities to yours, and do your own thing for the other days of the week. Or you could find several people in each of your activities and date them all. But, you do take the risk, that say I was dating someone other than APK, let's call him X (APK, there's no X.... for the record... just making a point here). And APK and I do happy hours and dinners together. But I play softball. And X plays softball with me. So I date X when we have softball games together. There's a good chance APK and X may run into each other at kickball or a museum or anywhere else because we're all a combination of different activities here... and we're all really into our activities... and it's completely possible that if APK is romaine lettuce and I'm italian dressing and X is bacon bits. That while X and I usually combine ourselves with arugula, somehow APK and X may choose ranch dressing all together.

Follow my logic.

All I'm saying is that while it's nice to have options, it's not so nice to have drama. And, my suggestion would be to stick to the idea of knowing there are options when you're single, but sticking to a distinct combination when you're not.

Time

It's not that I think every person I'm dating is someone I'll be with forever and ever. I'm mature enough (and not psycho enough) to realize that situations often make it impossible to predict what the future holds. However, I do believe in the concept of not wasting any precious time. Meaning- if you know I'm definitely not the one (or vice versa) please don't waste my time.

I don't want to ever feel like I wish I could back track. If someone doesn't think they could potentially marry me, then why date me? They could get to know me perfectly well as my friend. I'm an open sort of girl, ya know.

So last Wednesday, APK and I had the impending "what happens this summer when we are both on different vacation schedules and then in fall, when APK goes back to school."

It is not a good thing for two anxious Type-A's to have these types of unsupervised conversations. Yes, we like each other. Yes, we don't want to stop dating. Yes, we're still into each other chemistry-wise. But yes, the two of us almost completely stopped speaking because we were both so anxious about what might happen 4 months from now. That's healthy, right?

Anyways, we're back to being normal, I think, for now. But obviously some of the things he said keep echoing in my head, said defensively or not on his part. What's the main thing? I don't know if I'm just piddling away time at the moment. Will I look back and feel like I wasted a perfectly good May with him when June roles around? And why is time so important to me?

I think I'd regret ending it more. Especially on account of no actual reason for ending it.

We had a great weekend together. Friday night, Shabbat dinner at my apartment with one too many sangrias (I make a good sangria, apparently). Saturday night, dinner at Cafe Bonnaparte in Georgetown with two friends of his who recently got engaged. Perfectly nice. Even got icecream together at Thomas Sweet.

But, the question I ask myself (and poor, dear SC over lunch today about half a gazillion times- thanks SC for listening), why is time so important to me anyways? I'm not dying. As far as I can see, my bodies not aging too rapidly. Then why does this baggage remain?

I think it's a Jerk layover. I feel like, above all the crappy things he said to me at the end of the relationship, I wasted 3 years of my life with someone who sucked. Completely sucked. I look back on my time in New York with fondness towards my old job, but besides a couple of mirrors I collected on our Sunday trips to the Chelsea and UWS flea markets, I don't really know what I got from those 3 years with him. I certainly found good friends in the city (both AW's were products of my stint there and I love them both dearly)... but I didn't meet them with him. I met them on my own. The only mutual friend of ours I liked ended up being a total asshole to me after the relationship's demise. So 3 years dedicated to one person, and I ended up with nothing.

But that's the character of Jerk. Already through APK I've met so many great people... I've been to so many great DC places... and I've shared some of my favorite times here with him.

So I don't think I'm wasting time.

And I don't want to have the conversation again unless I really need to have it. But, I thought I'd just fill ya'll in. Mainly because I don't really have any super interesting stories to tell today from the weekend. I'm sure every blogger's discussing Anna Nicole at the moment.