Quality Over Quantity

My parents just left town this morning. They've been here since Thursday afternoon, staying at the Churchill Hotel on Connecticut Ave. (where I have a discounted rate through my job). Their room had a window with a view of a wall. I never understood such ideas. Best to just leave the room the windowless. But, the price was good, and the bed was comfy. No complaints from them.

Friday night, my Mom and I went to the Verizon Center for the American Idols Live concert. The median age of attendees was 12. Mandisa was fantastic, though dressed terribly. Even from our bleacher seats, we could see her arm fat. Kelly Pickler was adorable... though I couldn't get out of my mind that she was dating egomaniac Constantine. It was Katharine McPhee's first show. She looked skinny. Only sang 2 songs... good songs... Black Horse in a Cherry Tree and Somewhere Over the Rainbow. Elliot Yamin is short and ugly. From the nose bleeds, his voice was easier to enjoy (ya know, since we didn't have to look at his elf-like appearance). Taylor Hicks ROCKS! This adorable little girl two seats in front of us was dancing and cheering for him. I took pics. I'll upload them later for ya'll.

APK and Ralph took my dad to Front Page and Brickskellar. He seemed happy.

Saturday, my parents and I went down to the Museum of American History and the Museum of Natural History. For dinner, we ate at Old Ebbitt Grill. Then we wandered around the White House. APK and I went to the Russian House for martinis after we dropped them back off at the hotel. My overpriced drink was complimented by a highly pretentious pick up scene set in crapped quarters with men in shorts and squeaky voiced blonde girls. The upity waitress took the liberty of re-checking our IDs (they were checked at the door). She was probably 3 years younger than me. I get a bit irritated by that behavior.... since it's the only power she can exert. Then they feel stupid since I'm 26. APK left her a tip anyways.

Sunday, we headed to the Museum of Air and Space. The Planetarium was actually quite interesting... and only 20 minutes so I didn't get overly bored. The IMAX film was narrated by Tom Hanks. I kept imagining him saying "Houston we have a problem." But he never did. That was a major bummer. Of course, not as large a disappointment as the boring Museum of Native American History. The building is beautiful. The content sucks. Really sucks. Read this review. I fully agree. It took us about 20 minutes to develop a complete lack of interest in the terrible exhibitions. It cost $14.00 for 3 sodas and a bag of chips. At least at the Verizon Center, the overpriced dinner came with a good show ($24 for 2 personal pizzas and 2 sodas).

I did nothing all weekend, but I'm exhausted. Going to stuff envelopes with Dress for Success tonight.

Urban Oasis

When I lived in New York as an intern, I was exhausted mentally. My internship was in art publishing, and I worked long and hard hours. I lived in the Jewish Y on 91st and Lexington in a room that resembled the hallway in an insane asylum. The walls were white concrete. The floors were grey concrete. I had one twin bed, a desk, and a closet in the room. I shared a bathroom with other people on my floor. They were all foreign students from the Pacific Islands. They cooked smelly food in the common kitchen every night. The scents drifted down the hallway. My room smelled terribly. My boyfriend, at the time, lived in Boston. Whenever I could, I drove up to see him. Then we broke up. Then my father had a heart attack. The only flights to Mobile would mean I'd miss work. I got 10 credits for my internship. I couldn't miss work. So, I sat by the phone, waiting to hear how my father was doing.

At the end of the summer, I used the small amount of money I'd received from my internship to buy a pair of Diesel jeans. My first designer pair of jeans. The size? I was a size 25 waist, size 32 leg (I'm 28 waist 32 leg now). I suppose upset has it's positive attributes. I definitely appreciate how much weight I lost looking back now.

My only escape from the loud sirens, bad smells, and white walls was to the South Street Seaport. I'd bring my research for my internship paper to Sequoia, order a small bit of food, and stare out onto the water. I'd pretend that the city wasn't behind me... that my world wasn't collapsing... that my waist wasn't shrinking. I'd escape.

Since then, I've become obsessed with the urban oasis, where people who love the city come to stop thinking. When I lived in New York after college, I'd read my books in Riverside Park three times a week, even in the winter.

It's taken me some time to find an urban oasis in DC. Jazz on Jackson Place is close, but since it only occurs once a month April-September, I feel more tense knowing I must enjoy the time I have there. Tense with fun, but certainly not completely relaxed.

Last night, we held our second Southern Jewish Cluster event at the Morrison-Clark on L and 11th Streets. The Morrison-Clark is the only Inn in the district that is a National Historic Landmark. You are greeted at the door by a staff member who's entire purpose is to hold the door for you. Every employee wears black vests and bow ties and asks how they can help you. The dining room is decorated with plush antique chairs and chandeliers. The veranda, during happy hour, has soft jazz playing and round wicker porch furniture from the 1800s. Our group was seated in the courtyard. Brick walls close out the sounds of the city. A fountain sings water dropping echoes. The drinks are all $7 during happy hour and include mint juleps, hurricanes, and the specialty cocktail, a steel magnolia. Waitors bring out free hors hors d'oeuvres like hush puppies, sweet potato biscuits, and crab cakes. For 2 hours, you forget that you live in a city. You forget about sirens and beggers and murders and work. You relax.

My parents are in town, so we stayed on for dinner. Fabulous dinner. My Amish Chicken was presented in grits. A Senator was seated behind us with his family listening to his daughter talk about her ballet class. What a perfect urban oasis. I'm thrilled I've found one in DC.

Psychopathic

My mom has her master in counseling. My father is a doctor. I grew up hearing diagnoses for the behaviors of the people around me. I met a girl sophomore year of high school who's mother was a friend of my mom. She was new to my school, so I took her in as a friend and invited her to spend time with my friends. She wasn't as wealthy as some of the other people at my school, and she didn't have a car. She was on my way to school, so I'd drive her in the mornings. My dad says I'm too trusting. Maybe I was back then.


At some point on our drives to school, she went into my wallet and stole the Express credit card my parents paid. She charged $400+ at Express. She bought 10 pairs of panty hose, among other strange items. I didn't notice. I rarely used the card. Her mom noticed she had many new things and went into her room. On the floor in the closet she found a cut up credit card. She arranged the tiny, cut pieces together and realized that the card had my name on it. Outraged, she made her daughter come over to our house and confess what she had done. She begged my parents not to press charges. She made her daughter return all the unworn items, and she reimbursed my parents for the remainder.

My mother asked me not to say anything to any of my friends. This girl had been through a lot. It was tough enough fitting into a new school. I was able to avoid her for the first couple of days. I told only my one best friend. Then, she started telling everyone that I stopped being her friend, because I was jealous of her. She started telling everyone I was a bitch. She started telling everyone all of my secrets. I still didn't say anything.

I was in an advanced art class with seniors and juniors. One of the hottest seniors and I talked much during the class. About three weeks after the credit card incident, he came over to me and told me he heard I liked him and stopped talking to my new "friend" because she liked him too. She had told him this and then asked him out. I burst into tears. Hysterical tears. My wonderful art teacher came over to me and asked me if I wanted to talk. I blurted out the entire story. Everyone in my class had gathered around. The senior boy was noticeably outraged. He asked what class she had currently. She was in the chorus class two doors down. He and the other boys from my class went and waited outside. When the bell rang and she walked out, in front of everyone, he asked her if she stole her uniform from me too. Then, he told everyone the story, ending with, "How dare you steal from someone and then spread lies about them. Are you a sociopath?"

Everyone talked and talked. Soon the whole school knew the story. No one sat with her. No one spoke to her. So, she went to the principal. She tried to convince him that I was lying and that I was making her time at our school miserable. I went to his office and couldn't believe what I was having to deal with. I did nothing wrong. This was her. I would have kept my mouth shut if she had kept her mouth shut.

I asked if my mother could come in an speak to him with me. She sat next to me as I told him:

"I've been here since 3rd grade. I'm a straight A student. I have a lot of friends. She is making my time here really uncomfortable. If you won't kick her out, I'll have to leave."

She was gone by the next afternoon. My mother explained that night to me what psychopathy was... the signs mainly.

I know people aren't always as cautious as I am... they trust more than I do... but I have to be careful now. Baggage I suppose.

Vanity and Pricing

I'm wearing what I consider to be a sexy dress today. It's not really low cut or short, but it's clingy in all the right places. I bought it especially for tonight's happy hour at the Morrison-Clark Inn. It's got a bold floral pattern, however, so I'm definitely hip conscious.

The problem with living in a big liberal city is that you can never truly gage whether or not you look good. I never think I look skinny enough or pretty enough in the mirror, so I rely on the kindness of strangers. When I walk down the street on the way to work in the morning, I watch to see if men check me out. This has worked for quite some time now. (And yes, I have been known to turn around and change my outfit).

Anyways, problem with the gayboyhood is that I only get checked out by construction workers and homeless people (both of which would ogle a telephone poll if it had breasts). Gay men only check you out when you look bad. AND- the even bigger issue- there are so many metrosexual DC men that you can never tell if you're being eyed because you look good or because you're wearing last season's Prada.

Last night, I met APK at Beacon Bar for a happy hour thrown by three girls who throw happy hours about once a month. It was on the rooftop at the Beacon Bar ... which sucks on soooo many levels.

First, the martini's downstairs are $4 each. Tapas are between $3-$8. And not just at happy hour. These are the prices all night. This is why Beacon Bar rocks.

The upstairs bar charges $11 for the same martini. They claim it's on behalf of the premium view. The view's certainly not 150% greater than it is downstairs. You can't see the Mall or the White House. There's no live music. There's no unbelievable appetizer for free. The waiters are wearing bells and whistles. So what's with the increase in price? What are you getting for the cost other than frizzy hair? (A fan would be nice). It's just not worth the price increase to drink upstairs... especially when the drinks are less than half the price downstairs. Can you honestly prove to me that the electricity bill from the elevator (the only noticeable differing expense between the two locations) is high enough that an $7 increase on matrinis is necessary?

Is anyone else freaking out?

Okay, so Lance Bass just came out of the closet. I'm not even going to explore my thoughts on that news... well maybe just a couple of points:

• I didn't know people with Down Syndrome had a sex drive.
• He says he didn't come out because he was scared of what it would do to the band's reputation... uh huh... because we found them soooo masculine.
• He came out coincidentally before he launched his new sitcom about being gay.
• He says, "The thing is, I'm not ashamed - that's the one thing I went to say. I don't think it's wrong, I'm not devastated going through this. I'm more liberated and happy than I've been my whole life. I'm just happy." Does anyone else think it's funny that he used the word happy about a gazillion times. Can't he officially say he's "gay" now?

But I'll tell you what, it just makes the statistic even more real... if 10% of Americans are homosexual, then this is completely obvious. Take the 2 boy bands, NSYNC and Backstreet Boys, at 5 members each- 10 people. 1 in 10 will be homosexual. Someone was bound to come out.

I am freaking out a bit about the y chromosome becoming extinct. If the majority of men in 20 years are gay or effeminate, can I expect to have a dowry system back in play when I have a daughter (and yes, I WILL have a daughter. Her name will be Eden. We will dress in matching outfits and sew clothes for her Barbie)? Seriously though, if men become extinct, can we expect that parents will be forced to auction off their daughters to the few priceless males who could carry on their name? Will parents need to have 2 savings accounts upon the birth of a child- college and dowry?

I've also been thinking a lot about how smart, educated, caring women and men no longer want to bring children into this world. My roommate, for example, is brilliant and beautiful and in a committed relationship with an equally impressive partner. She's not sure she wants children. Now, if the truly educated are perhaps more skeptical of bringing children into today's world so much so that they don't in fact procreate, and only the poor, uneducated parents continue to have children, can we expect that in several years time we won't be living in a progressive society?

Those are my thoughts on the matter.

Strange Branding

I went for my annual visit to the OB/GYN today.

I suppose you know you've been working in marketing when you start to find humor in the branding of products in your examination room. You know, since you're having an HIV test among others... and you should probably be focused on worrying.

But anyways.

So here's the list of branded items:

Derma Touch examination gloves

EcoLab soap dispenser

BP Sharps Collector biohazard collection container

Detecto biohazard trash can

Detecto scale

Scopettes, Jr. Pap test sticks

Tycos blood pressure monitor

Now, consider that the only people in the room are patients. Patients don't buy examination gloves or biohazard collection containers or home pap tests. So, one would think noticeably branding these items would prove useless.

BUT, patients MIGHT buy bandages or cotton balls their doctor uses, right? Both were generic in the office.

Just though that was funny. Also imagined some really educated dude having to say he's the CEO of the company that makes pap test sticks.

Creative pharmaceutical branding in the doctor's office? Stirup covers by Enjuvia and a calendar by Estrostep.

Also, I feel badly for artists like Nancy Louise Jones. It's got to be like having you fiction novel in the $1 bin at the Strand to have your artwork displayed in a doctor's office.

The Amex ad agency must not be doing a very good job-

I thought this was funny. On the wall, at First Choice Auto Body in Arlington. A printed sign. Someone's selling these somewhere. Amex must not be thrilled.

Read this story. I guess best to leave home without it.

Hickory Dickory Dock

Tranquil Space Yoga Studio on P Street rocks because:

1) You can reserve your place in class online and cancel up to an hour before (for when you wake up hung over on Sunday morning).
2) The walls are painted the nicest shade of lavender with pink flowers painted on the floor.
3) The teachers have the most relaxing voice and wander the class giving subtle instruction on things like keeping your legs farther apart.
4) There is light music and burning aromatherapy scents.
5) After class, tea and biscuits are provided.

Kate and I watched Shopgirl (strangely depressing and uplifting at the same time) and ordered in Domino's pizza. I'd not had Domino's pizza in about 3 years before moving to DC. In Westport, Planet Pizza was the local delivery joint. In New York, ordering Domino's was in the same league as wearing a Red Sox hat to Yankee Stadium. But, shhhh, Domino's is not bad… even though, by my saying this, Patsy Grimaldi is rolling in his grave right now.

Incidentally, the history of pizza is fascinating. Did you know it began as a peasant food in Italy? In the US, it only became popular after WWII. Soldiers came back from war talking of the amazing food they had while overseas.

Saturday night, I met Suave and company at Panache on DeSalles Street for a birthday party. Panache's drinks are expensive. BUT, at least, they offer a live DJ and free cigarettes on the bathroom compliments table. There were about 3 other birthday's being celebrated simultaneously. I assume this is because there's no cover for attendees of a party who arrive before 11pm and are put on the guest list.

I don't dance very often.

Not saying that I don't dance at all. I'm from Bama. I grew up on Southern rock, jam bands, and country. I'm most comfortable bopping my head and moving my arms to a live music beat. Techno music and hard rap just don't make me want to shake my toosh. Hell, that type of music barely makes me care whether I'm deaf or not.

It was cool my freshman and sophomore years of high school to listen to Snoop and Bone. So, I can dance to that type of music too… considering they are on my shuffle… and I love old school favorites like "This is How We Do It" and "I Got Five on It." Anyways, regardless, Michael Jackson was playing… so Suave's Salsa Hottie and I danced. And danced. And danced.

Maybe I don't dance because I'm too vain. I was sweaty and certainly not looking so cute by the end of the night.

Yesterday, I christened my Weber. I soaked my hickory chips and lit my charcoal and basted my chicken with Ingleby Farms barbeque sauce. Suave, the Master, APK, Taffy, the Producer, the Salsa Hottie, and others all came over around 5pm for dinner and winding down. My hair smelled of hickory chips by the end of the evening.

The Little Engine That Cried-

I have a serious issue with noise pollution. Such an issue, in fact, that I adore the law in NYC that fines drivers for beeping.

I'm aware that it's not just me who feels this way. The sirens in DC are definitely about 10 times louder than in any other city I've visited. I'm even more aware that these engines tend to omit their loud beeping as well. I never held my ears in New York. Not when the subway screeched to a halt in the W. 4th St. station. Not when the Puerto Rican Day Parade made it's way up 6th Ave. Not even when the drilling for the new Bank of America building rattled my old office building walls. I just got used to it.

And yet, in DC, my ears feel like they might begin bleeding at any moment. Even when I'm driving with Kelly Clarkson or Jessica Simpson playing as loud as I can stand.

So, here's my argument against the sirens.

It's not so much the noise. It's the panic. The sirens and beeping are so loud that you can't tell where they are or how near to you they are... meaning that in the brain numbing state they induce, I don't know if I should pull my car to the side or not. And, since generally they are streets and streets away, I don't even move over anymore. Not until they are literally in view of my rearview mirror. Seems others are the same. Creates an adverse reaction, basically.

Perhaps they should either STOP BEEPING on top of the sirens or lower the sirens a decibel. Then maybe we'd react quicker.

All the small things-

Walking to get a pedicure at Q West on 18th St., I overheard the following half of a conversation by a heavy woman in a security uniform yelling on her cell phone.

"I'm walking as fast as I can." Strolling down the street.
"I'm on my way. Okay. I'm on my way." Stops to tie shoelace.
"Look, I don't got wheels on my feet. I'm pounding them as fast I can."
"I'm almost there. Okay. On my way."
"Look, I don't got wheels. I'm pounding here."
"Okay. Okay. I'll be there."
"I'm coming. Damn. Running here." Still strolling. She turned the corner before I could here the rest of the conversation.

I had a male pedicurist. That always creeps me out. Something about it seems off. I hate it when a male pedicurist massages my feet and legs. You gotta imagine how they get themselves off. And then, you gotta imagine what that looks like. And then, since most men working at a nail salon aren't too hot, you get grossed out.

Not that I see pedicures as relaxing. Besides the fact that I'm ticklish, they are such a necessity for singles living in a city during the summer that they basically become something you have to do... like buying toilet paper. They are impossible to do as well at home by yourself. They are expensive. You usually end up reading a 1998 copy of Ladies Home Journal and scuffing at least one nail on the walk from the pedicure chair to the UV ray drying area. Generally, you are insulted by pedicurist. Today, I was told that even though I prefer to have my toe nails rounded in shape, my toes are wide (read here, fat) so square looks better. I went for round out of principle alone. And, pedicures are expensive. They are $30 with tip.

I got lunch at Jolt & Bolt and brought it back to the office. The woman behind the counter was a bit overweight. I like it when my servers are a bit overweight. It's like when you see restaurant staff eating at their own place of work. Makes you feel like the food most be okay.

Done with my ramblings.

Is it possible to develop sexual chemistry with someone?

Suave and I were talking about this yesterday.

The case FOR being able to create chemistry-
How can best friends suddenly find themselves attracted to one another after years and years of being platonic friends if chemistry can't grow?

The case AGAINST being able to create chemistry-
Did those best friends find themselves attracted to one another before the actual sexual chemistry was acknowledged? Did they choose not to proceed with the attraction because of outside variables like other partners or career-driven mentalities that might mess up the friendship?

If you don't want to kiss someone on the first time you find yourself attracted to them as a person, is it possible that you'll never want to kiss them?

And what if you've not seen someone in a really long time. Like, you both went off to college and grew up and then found yourself interested in one another. I had this with a friend last summer. But, while home, I saw a video I recorded back during the Summer before I left for college. I watched how I talked to him on the tape. I was interested. Well, I was definitely curious.

From my experience, I believe that you can't force sexual chemistry. I think attraction is about more than we give nature credit for. Sometimes you are. Sometimes you are not. And you can't create the naturally occurring elements.

My first crush in college happened in October of my Freshman year. I was in an Entomology 101 class with him. Of all the Greek members in the class, we were the only ones who attended the lectures. We both studied for the tests and volunteered for the Professor's case studies. I think we both ended up with 110 as our final great in the class.

He was cute. He was blonde. He was smart. He was a year older than me in a great fraternity. He was well-spoken. He grew up in a good family. What wasn't there to like?

He took me to get chocolate milk at the dining hall after class one day in November. We sat under a tree outside- sucking our milk through straws and jokingly describing each bug we saw... I was 18, this was romantic in my mind.

I'd blocked out the rest of the story. Kelly recently reminded me. The next week my sorority had an exchange at his fraternity. I realized that the president of his fraternity was interested in me. I was a freshman, and the really hot President of a great fraternity was interested in me. I realized that my crush would do much better with Kelly. They dated for about a week. Voila! Crush gone. You can imagine how things went with the president. We kissed that night and never spoke again.

My crush and I stayed friends. He dated a sorority sister of mine. I dated a friend of his. Life moved on.

Three years later, at the start of my junior year, my crush and I found each other single and drunk at a party. He asked me out for the next night. We went to dinner. He walked me home. We hugged goodnight. Then he asked me out again. We went pottery painting. He took me to dinner. He walked me home. We hugged goodnight. My friends all announced that we were THE MOST PERFECT COUPLE EVER! Our kids would be adorable! Our house would be immaculate and on Martha's Vineyard. We'd drive Volvos. But we hadn't kissed yet? "Oh, he's a gentleman," they said.

So, we went out again. He walked me home. He looked me in the eye and said "I'm definitely kissing you." And he did. For a while. And I felt... absolutely nothing. No butterflies. No passion. Nothing.

We went out a bit more, here and there. Kissed a bit more, here and there. I never stayed over. He never stayed over. Actually, in the midst of it all, I started frequently seeing my neighbor late night. I was drunk on my 21st birthday (imagine), and Kelly drove me over to his house because I decided this was the night it was going to happen.

I knocked on his window. He came out in boxers. I kissed him and ran back to the driveway before Kelly drove away. "You're not going to stay over?" "Nah. That's over."

And it was. We stayed friends. I saw him when I first graduated college and was living a town away from him in Connecticut. He took me to an Italian festival. I thought about kissing him again, but I have learned now that you can't build sexual chemistry. No matter how cute or perfect someone may be for you.

Listen To Your Heart

Damn song's been in my head all day.

In Search of Walmart

Yeah, I know a large percentage of Americans think Walmart is the Devil. They also think Anna Wintour is the Devil, but that didn't keep me from working at the empire that allows her to take her own elevators and skip in front of the food line to buy one piece of zucchini for lunch.

So last night, I went in search of Walmart.

When I get upset, I like to drive... anywhere... and come up with little shopping projects for myself.


I've decided I want to be the female version of Bobby Flay. After finding Uncle Brutha's on Capital Hill, I think that dream can become a reality... with all the great BBQ sauces from around the US on sale there... I went to buy a real deal large, charcoal Weber grill in silver.

So, last night, I went in search of the Walmart in Alexandria off Richmond Highway. It might be the Devil, but my grill was about $20 cheaper there. I don't work in small-town America. My mom and pop hire people to mow the lawn, paint the house, and iron their clothing. They most certainly don't own a hardware store in Mayberry. Okay, to be honest, I'm justifying my purchase even though I do sort of think Walmart isn't the greatest... but I'm on a budget, and I wanted my grill.

Back to my story-

I've not driven that far South on Jefferson Davis Highway since my move to DC in November of last year.

I didn't realize there was so much construction going on in Virginia. I didn't realize that parts of Alexandria don't look like Old Town... with litter and poorly kept houses. I didn't realize there was a Checkers so close to DC (damnit, now I'll be craving Checkers fries again, for the first time since I left Bama). I didn't realize that Five Guys had a whole chain of restaurants into Virginia... with one on each side of US-1.

I also forgot how cheap Walmart really is. My 12-packs of Diet Pepsi, not on sale, were $3 a pack. That's about $1 less than normal SFW prices.

I also forgot how little help the Walmart employees offer. I suppose with all the wage wars, I should be thankful they weren't all outside surrounding a large blow-up rat.

A man who spoke not a word of English attempted to answers my questions regarding the difference in the two grills I was debating between. All I wanted to know was if the smoker grill could be cleaned. He pointed me out of the grilling section. I looked at him confused. Then he gave me a hand gesture indicating I should follow him. I assumed we were off to find someone who spoke English. We ended up in the cleaning supply section.

"No, no. Thank anyways, " I said. "I'll just figure it out myself."

I had the whole Postal Service going nuts in my mind.

So I headed back to grills, where a nice and young guy was assisting an old woman with a plant. I asked if he worked in the grill section. He said no, he worked in garden. I asked if he knew anything about grills. He said he grills almost every weekend... jackpot.

I bought the Weber. He insisted. It's the best. Even I knew that.

Now I have to put the grill together. Then, Sunday, we'll be ready to grill.

Saved?

Sometimes I wonder if my life is being taped. After the Truman Show, don't we all often wonder this?

Yesterday, JM organized a tubing trip in Harpers Ferry, WV through Butts Tubes.

20 people. 20 tubes. 6 cooler tubes- bottomless.

You'd think... at $15 a person... when the business just has to rent you a tube, a life jacket, and bus you to the top of the river and retrieve you at the bottom...

You'd think they could have at least put bottoms on the cooler tubes.
AND advise that coolers while white-water rafting (even though it wasn't that extreme terrain) might be a bad idea.

The 20 of us were doing okay at first. We met up on a rock after about 45 minutes out in the water and ate lunch. That was quite fun, but unfortunately, we didn't empty as many coolers as we probably should have.

After lunch, I paddled back to join up with APK. We've decided to take a step back in the relationship and breath a bit. It's probably best. Both of us are under a ton of stress, and it's not be great on the relationship. I'm not saying it doesn't hurt, but I understand that relationships are sometimes best examined from afar.

We enjoyed the view as we lazed down the river. The only people up ahead was BG and another girl, linked together by a cooler tube. How all of us ended up on the side of the river is also a bit of a mystery.

We saw JM and the rest of the group up ahead at a rock formation in the center. We all probably should have stayed in our tubes and passed by, but instead we got out of the tubes and began paddling. This was a really stupid decision. I didn't have my life jacket on (tan lines would have been weird), and APK was dragging about 45 pounds of beer in the cooler tubes. As he put it, with that much weight on your raft, wherever the current is going is your ultimate path.

My flip flops flew off and my knees began to hit the rock formations. BG had left his tube to retrieve his hat and a bag that went missing from APK's cooler tube. APK was moving with the current, and BG's tube was already much out of sight... with another person an cooler tied to it, it also had to continue with the current.

I grabbed BG, and we pulled the tube to a rock to regroup. His legs were cut and bleeding. I sat on his lap within the tube, and we paddled to a further rock where APK had lodged his raft.

BG took the coolers from one of the cooler tubes and went down the river on my tube to another rock where JM and the group had stopped to gather the group. I laid in one of the cooler tubes until the tube started to take us away from the center of the river where we would be unable to meet the group. I got out of the tube and began pulling it towards the rock formation. APK had numerous coolers on his lap, and although he asked to pull, I knew it would make less sense.

As we approached the group, another current began to pull the tube away from the rocks. I tried to pull, but I wasn't strong enough. BG swam out and pulled me onto the rock. JM pulled APK and the tube onto the rock.

I sat on the rock for a bit. My body is still soar today.

If I needed to be saved, who would save me? Sensational ain't it? BG.

And maybe I didn't get it when our of 31 new Shabbat Cluster's formed, we ended up in the same one... but when, out of 20 people, you end up on the same tube in that situation... you say "Thank you." And then you make plans to have lunch during the week.

Question for Newt- from Ralph.

Got this e-mail from Ralph. Sent to APK, Taffy, and I dwelling on the fact that no one asked a question-


I'm not sure if this is really funny, but I thought this through on the way home last night and came up with what I believe would've been, in retrospect, the best question to ask Newt. Anyway, it was funny to me. The basic idea is to frame a question that:

A) says Newt Gingrich looks like Ted Kennedy
B) calls Newt "the most reviled man since Nixon"
C) quotes "Rage Against the Machine"
and
D) cannot be interpreted as a hostile question

By the way, I'm not sure why, but I ideally I imagine Taffy asking this question, not me.

So here it is, and you have to imagine that the guy asking the question believes he is being respectful but is very nervous.

___________

Hey... NEWT! Um... its awesome to talk to you. I read both of the last two books and I'm, like, really into history, but, I guess this is kind of embarassing but I'm not really into current events and I didn't realize that you were even... like... a congressman until I saw the flyer for this event.

My friend said you were... um... like... oh-what did he say--OH YEAH!

"THE MOST REVILED MAN SINCE NIXON!"

Like, I had no idea you were such an important figure. Thats like--its kind of shocking to me because I've just been reading your books... (goes into a mumble)
But... anyway... I'm going to ask a question and all I'm just... I'm sorry... I'M SORRY!--so my question is...
Oh, you know who you look like by the way? Ahh--um... Ted...

TED KENNEDY!

Does anyone ever tell you that? Like, you could be his brother. You look a lot like him.

You do.
Anyway, my question is:
As you, sort of "see the world through American eyes", as Zack De La Rocha of Rage Against the Machine would say, like, how do you think America should, I guess, just like, see its place in the world?

Thanks.

Orkin Needed?

The Master lives in the Hamilton House. Her apartment is spacious and affordable. She has a pool and gym. She's relatively happy. She's also obsessively clean... even has a cleaning lady.

Imagine her surprise when her apartment suddenly became infested with roaches... for no apparent reason. The Hamilton House, obviously aware of the DC apartment message boards indicating that it was roach infested, provides an exterminator every Thursday. All you need to do is sign-up for it downstairs.

But the service didn't help her much. She decided to pay the exterminator a bit more and remove everything from her cupboards. She's found out from her building manager that the girl in the apartment next to her is a complete slob with food all over the place. The people in the apartment above the slob's apartment are also complaining. Luckily, the slob is moving out in July.

Walking to the post office on M & 20th St., I noticed the Flats on Dupont Circle boasting that their new complex featured "brand new apartments. 100% beautiful. 100% guaranteed." A brand new one bedroom at the Flats will cost you a minimum of $1,710.

Now think about it... the Flats shares a common wall with the Hamilton House. The Hamilton House has roaches.

So I called Orkin. The branch in Forrestville, MD. The woman laughed when I asked if roaches exist in one building and the wall of another building touches it, can we assume the infestation will carry through? "Uh, yes. Of course. Do you want to schedule an inspection?"

More research on the Orkin website brought up the following info about roach infestations-

Cockroaches can wreak havoc on your home. To win the war against cockroaches, here’s what you should know:

• Entry: Cockroaches can enter your home in many different ways, from the outside through cracks and crevices, vents, sewer and drain pipes, even in grocery bags.
• Reproduction: Cockroaches reproduce quickly. For every one you see there can be 200 more hiding and multiplying behind your walls.
• Evasiveness: Because cockroaches are nocturnal, if you’ve seen one, you haven’t seen them all. The few cockroaches you see by day were likely forced out by overcrowding; a possible sign of severe infestation.
• Do-it-yourself ineffectiveness: Cockroaches are better at hiding than you are at finding them, and their eggs are naturally protected from insecticides. Without special equipment, materials and know-how, it can be a losing battle.

I guess the main warning is to realize that your neighbors (hidden in walls or not) can certainly influence your property value. Also wondering if the fact that luxury, over-priced apartments infested with roaches is bringing us one step closer to the Manhattan real estate market.

Newt

I'm no reporter.

Went with APK, Ralph, and Taffy to the Newt Gingrich Book Event at the National Press Club. Tickets were free, and no matter what you think about Newt, he's one larger-than-life politician. So, we went.

He's just completed the final book in his trilogy about the Civil War. A very interesting concept. Basically, he and a co-author/ historian (he admitted that he loves writing but hates editing) decided to play on the idea that Southerners always say "If we'd just won Gettysburg." His book talks about what would have happened if Lee had one at Gettysburg. It's based on the principal of the book If the South had Won the Civil War. It's fiction based on history. He said "It's easier to imitate than to invent."

So, like I said, I'm no reporter. I didn't take notes... I can't give you a transcript of the whole evening. But here's what I took away from the evening.

Newt didn't comment on whether he'd run in 2008
Newt did comment on his website- www.newt.com- he told us all to sign up for updates.
Newt answered the questions asked even though they were totally not about his book.
Newt gave advice to a guy from UC Berkley about how to handle his ultra-left wing and overly opinionated professors. (get 5 people together to challenge his opinion. If he damages your GPA for declaring that his opinion is not based on fact, speak out about your rights and get him out even if he's tenured).
Newt gave his opinion on why school systems fail (children are taught from a syllabus vs. teachers talking about what's going on in the world and what interests the children). I was actually impressed that he was able to quote actual statistics to back up his argument when the question was something he totally couldn't have prepared for, ya know, since it had nothing to do with the book. (Detroit's school system has a 21% graduation rate for incoming Freshman).
Newt was VERY polite to an extremely dumb and obnoxious woman wearing a moomoo.
Newt thinks Jimmy Carter sucks.
Newt think 20% of Americans are Democrats. 20% of Americans are Republicans. and 60% of Americans are disgusted. That was kind of funny of Newt.
Newt was almost endearing when he talked about his dad here and there.
Newt looks a little bit like Teddy Roosevelt and a little bit like Teddy Kennedy.
Newt signed the books I bought for my father and JFJ, Jr. "Your friend, Newt Gingrich." How'd he decide on that as his signature? Best Wishes was too over done? Newt's everyone's friend.

The woman's questions (first up) began, "I'm a Democrat. I want to teach history. When you mentioned the founding fathers at the beginning, how come you didn't mention Washington? Do you not like Washington?"

Moron. Yes, someone in politics will now say "I really hate George Washington. Dude sucks. Powdered hair."

Then the woman came BACK UP to the microphone to announce that she was an Activist and ask if Newt would like to come to speak at her program, Camp Democracy, on the Mall. He politely referred her to his press agent.

And that was Newt. I liked hearing him speak. He's definitely knowledgeable and interesting and charismatic. And, it was rather refreshing to have him answer questions you know a Cabinet and professional speech writer didn't create an answer for...

So, Newt in 2008? And, George Washington Sucks!

Are we there yet?

Almost.

At 3pm today, I meet with the Nephrologist to discuss what my test results have come out looking like... I slept about 3 hours last night.

My dad passed his annual stress test yesterday with flying colors. I have to concentrate on that... even though it seems quite dramatic... it does help for me to think about it this way-

If I had to choose between my own health results coming back okay or my dad's, I'd choose my dad's. So, if the world is balancing and one of us has to have bad results... I'm happy it's me. Come on, you had to know I was a bit of a drama queen. They didn't nickname me Brenda Walsh for my stability!

Strangely, I'm a Libra, Libra's rule the kidneys.

Each sign rules structural, external and internal relationships. Libra
rules the excretory functions through the kidneys and skin. Externally it rules
the lumbar region, buttocks, adrenals and vasomotor system. Structurally, the
sign rules the lumbar vertebrae. The pathological tendencies of this sign are
lumbago, kidney disease, uraemia, polyuria, renal calculi and oedema. Libra
rules the kidneys, lower back and ovaries. Lower back pain, and problems caused
by too much sugar or rich food are common complaints.

I guess I should just be thrilled that my buttocks aren't what is being examined. APK is a Gemini. He rules the Breath apparently. I won't say more, but if he's reading this, that's pretty scary.

Last night, I went to a happy hour at Alero with APK, Suave, and the Master. Lots of people. $4 margaritas. Very good combination. The Master ended up meeting a fraternity brother of APK's. Very cute fraternity brother. They had mega-charged chemistry all night. Except for one of those hovering girls who wouldn't get the hint that she should exit stage right by the way the Master and her new man were hugging and trying to end the conversation. She just stuck around. For like 30 minutes. I made APK wait for the first 20 so that the Master wasn't put into too awkward a situation (figured if there was a group of us, all the better). I don't know when hoverer got the hint... but oy vey, if I didn't say so before.

He's a good fellow. I hope it works out.

Tonight, I'm off to the National Press Club to hear Newt Gingrich talk about his new book, the last in a trilogy, about the Civil War. Apparently, the books change history... bumping up Lee's surrender and changing the outcome of battles. Quite strange. Should be interesting all the same.

What's falling in love got to do with it?

I don't think I believe in falling in love... well not in the way my romance novels will have you believe it happens.

I think those moments mid-relationship that you snuggle in one another's arms and look deeply in one another's eyes have more to do with infatuation and passion and sexual chemistry than love.

I think love, real true love, is about making a plan for where you'll meet if a bomb goes off and all mass transportation stops and cell phone service isn't working. It's about hearing a loud noise late and night while in bed with your partner and not wanting them to go outside without you... just in case something happens to them.

It's about friendship. Partnership. Patience.

I fully believe in the 7 month rule- that after 7 months in a relationship with someone the initial attraction animal ceases. If you've not developed an attraction outside of your physical infatuation, your relationship will be lacking.

After 7 months with someone, if you still think they are the most attractive person in the room... if you can't imagine your current life without them... if you think about them more than once a day... if you want to kiss them when you stand beside them... the truth is, you're probably in love.

BUT, what the hell does it matter?

Why do we need to tell someone we love them?

I was pressured into saying it with the one and only relationship in which I've exchanged "those words". With Jerk, of course.

He said it so early on, like after 2 months, and I just didn't know if I wanted to say it. So he kept saying it to me. Over and over again. Finally, I ended an email with "I love you." Then a couple of weeks later, I ended a phone conversation with it. And finally, about 2 months after he said it, I said it back to him. I think it was a result of peer pressure. Plus, I didn't want to hurt someone who thought they loved me.

And what did it do for either of us? For our relationship?

Nothing... it's not like we were miles away from one another. My dad always ends conversations with me saying he loves me. I guess, being so far away from each other, it makes more sense. No matter what disagreement we may have, he wants me to know he loves me. So, yes, that makes sense.

But for what exactly do I need the guy I am dating to say it?

After the way my relationship with Jerk ended- I started it with "I don't know if I love you." Then two months later, he announced the same in a cab ride on route to a party. I chugged Southern Comfort and picked a fight with him. He left me alone in Central Park that night. I called my mother hysterical at 4am. We reconciled... sort of. But finally, he just stopped saying it. That's when I knew it was over for good.

Maybe, you only need to say it if you think your feelings might change. Perhaps it's just ammunition to be used against your partner if you know a break up will come eventually. (Am I officially becoming a pessimist Angelina? Is this what happens when I stop watching the Mary Tyler Moore Show Season 1 on DVD and over analyze?)

One night in bed, APK announced that he wasn't sure he was falling in love with me. This was back in April. I wasn't sure I was either. But still. No one want to hear such things.

Truth be told, since then, I can say I'm there- in that place I basically am refusing to say on principal. Not "in" that place... but just there altogether. Like, I worry he might die when he's not near me. And I can't imagine my life without him. And sometimes I wake up sad that he's not beside me in bed or happy that he is (I say sometimes, because most of the time I wake up trying to snooze my alarm until I end up rushing to get ready for work).

Is it possible that rather than fall in love with someone, you know you like them alot and you take it slowly and eventually you wake up and realize you're just there.

You support them. You don't want to not have them in your life. Isn't that sort of similar to our friendships? Slowly, you build up trust and learn to rely on people and then one day you realize that you hope you never loose them.

In my opinion, slow-cooked gumbo is much better than ready-to-serve.

Is it possible that falling in love doesn't exist at all? That you become infatuated and sexually attracted to someone instantly. Then, you recognize how great a time you're having getting to know them. And then, over time, you realize you don't want to imagine life without them. And so can I just assume that falling in love is a combination of loving someone you're sexually attracted to?

I Miss Southern Cooking!

Yes. Last night, it was made official.

Damn! I miss good Southern Cookin'. AND this was a vegetarian Southern meal.

It was a potluck dinner held in APK's party room. Gorgeous party room. Funny enough, I put the TV in the room on muted CMT for effect and The Dukes of Hazzard just happened to be on. Okay, so I'm told it's always on CMT (I will sooooo be watching it from here on out). But, had there been a dvd player, I totally would have gotten The Dukes to play... Jessica Simpson and Stiffler or not.

The food was yummy. Corn on the cob, fried green tomatoes, corn pudding, potato salad, macaroni salad, casseroles, cole slaw, corn bread, macaroni and cheese, sweet tea, blueberry cobbler, frito pie, grits, baked beans, pecan pie.

Yummmmm.

I made veggie pigs in a blanket. I'm told they were good. Mornigstar hotdogs cut in halves then wrapped in refrigerated biscuits and baked at 400 degrees for 15 minutes.

Definitely not a low-carb meal. But worth every single calorie.

About 30 people. Not too big nor small. Lots of Jews from Tennessee and North Carolina. Who knew? Nice to meet new friends, but keep the old, one is silver and the other's.... yeah yeah yeah, sorry, I start thinking about growing up in the South and Girl Scouts and Troop Beverly Hills, etc.

Our next event is scheduled for a happy hour at the Morrison-Clark Inn complete with a veranda, waiters in black vests, mint juleps, and spiced pecans. Thanks to the Master for finding us that one!

Safeway vs. SFW

Last night I went to buy the following things from the Safeway in Georgetown:

1 Zucchini
1 Squash
40 plastic cups- Store brand
20 plastic plates- Store brand
3 packs of veggie hot dogs
4 cans of refrigerated biscuits- Store brand
1 plastic table cloth- Store brand
10 packets of KoolAid pink lemonade
3 disposable cake baking pans- Store brand

Since the Georgetown Safeway always has a 20 minute check-out line due to never having enough employees and the employees they do have taking HOURS to complete one transaction, I wasn't that stressed waiting for 15 minutes in the Express line.

I got up to the register finally and Tony at check-out rung up my items. $32.00. Then he tells me the credit/ debit machine isn't working. I tell him, I have a debit card that requires a pin number to complete the transaction. He asks if I have another card. I do, but HELLO it's the concept here. So I tell him that he either needed to put a sign up or move to a different register. He tells me to go to Customer Service. I tell him, No since there's no one there. He sends me to register 10. Still, no one there. Finally, he hands me my bags and sends me away. I think he was hoping I'd just leave the store without paying. I probably should have...

I walk to register 10, and look to the person in the open register 9. I tell him I'd like to speak to a Manager. He tells me he IS the Manager. He's the Customer Service Manager (don't think I didn't look at his badge). Then he walks me over to Tony and asks Tony what he did... asks him why he canceled the order instead of suspending it (so I don't have to be rung up again). He then moves Tony to a new register. I walk back with him, and he tells me I have to wait in another 15 minute line.

I get agitated easily. I'm sure ya'll knew that by now.

I put the bags down and tell him I'm going to another grocery store. Then, left a message for the Store Manager on my way to SFW. I also call my mom. She tells me about a rotten watermelon she got at Walmart in Mobile. They told her she had to bring it back in. She was outraged. Then the Store Manager said she didn't need to.. but she was on her way. So she shoved the rotten manager at Customer Service and watched.

How many Walmart employees in Mobile, AL does it take to put a rotten watermelon into a bag? Three. No wonder Crystal Meth sounds so good in rural Alabama.

Anyways. I go to SFW. Re-purchase my items. Get this... total cost $20.00!!!!

Kate and I have debated which place is cheaper. Yes, Safeway had the veggie dogs on special at 2 for $5, whereas at SFW they were $3 each... but still, total cost was $12.00 cheaper. I guess it's worth a drive to Virginia afterall. Just skip buying watermelon at Walmart's in the South, apparently.

Wild Turkeys and Super Sperm

I spent the entire weekend running around.

Not that that's a bad thing. It was quite the DC weekend, as usual.

Friday night the Master and I met her friend and her friend's boyfriend at Thai Kitchen on M Street (which looked like it was going out of business because not a soul was inside, but apparently it always looks like that and it is always there... drug dealers?) We got left by the Master's coupling friend on our walk into Georgetown. They were totally THAT couple. Oblivious to any world outside of the two of them. It was a bit annoying. But I love that girl anyways. Why? Well, turns out APK hooked up with her about 2 years ago. A one-night thang, but still, she's cute. Very cute. He's into those glasses wearing, curly hair poorly done, short Jewish girls... well, he was before me... but it was nice to meet a cute, skinny, okay- glasses wearing, but trendy glasses wearing, good dresser. Thank goodness.

But back to THAT couple. Speeding off in front of us on the walk to talk about whether or not he'd convert to Judaism. Cuddling in the movie theater, with the Master and I next to them. Please shoot me if I ever become one of them.

We saw Superman Returns. I didn't think it was horrible. Campy, yes, but definitely entertaining. I really wish it had been rated R. I'd like to see a flashback to Lois and Superman's one-night stand that produced a child. Not Trojan endorsed I suppose. I see it going, as they are flying through the air- "Oh, Superman." "Oh, Lois." "Wait, hold on, can you put a condom on." "Superman doesn't have any STDs, Lois." "What about a child?" "Lois, my sperm is stronger than the average man. Super sperm." "Oh well."

And then he was a dead beat dad and went to find the remains of his old planet for 5 years without giving her any alimony. Super a-hole.

So apparently DC Kickball's celebrity wants to kill me. BUT he's not insane (merely pompous with a Napoleon syndrome) Kate said she's putting a sign on her bedroom door reading "Not a blogger. Don't read blogs at all."

I went to meet APK at Stetson's to avoid the party the Lost Boys were attending when DC Kickball Celebrity was attending. Not that I couldn't hold my own, but more because I didn't have the energy to explain to someone why their obvious attempts to make people know they were important suggested a lack of size in the areas that are important.

Saturday, I met a friend for lunch at Champs in Pentagon Row and then met up with Suave for a festival in Alexandria. Quite the girldate. We had dinner in Old Town and then sat on the grass in Oronoco Bay Park listening to a symphony play Broadway show tunes and watching fireworks. Tres romantic.

Certainly topped APK's mandate all afternoon. He went with a coworker who's about to get married for lunch and mini-golf.

We met APK and Ralph at Saint Ex around 11pm. Ralph totally impressed me... I suppose amongst every group of Lost Boys, someone ends up looking phenomenal for not going home with randoms at 1am, cooking, and caring when the dishes aren't done.

Sunday morning, I met Suave and her friends for brunch at Kramer Books. Yummy. We ended up sitting upstairs though. Did you know there's an upstairs? And a DC booth that hangs over the room? Go figure.

Last night, Peter and Ralph hosted a potluck dinner. Quite fun. We played poker, watched Entourage (which I'm just not that into... yeah yeah apparently the only one in America who's not that into the show), and relaxed.

Tomorrow night is the kickoff event for the Southern Jewish Cluster. I'm holding it in APK's building's party room. Very excited for some good Southern food and music. I'm baking a broccoli-pecan casserole.

Oh, funny, almost forgot. Conversation with Peter, Suave, and the Master.

The Master: "Yeah, I'm coming. Figure I got one of the two. I'm at least Jewish."
Me: "Doesn't really matter. Lots of people are coming that aren't either."
Peter: "I'm neither. What should I bring? Maybe just Wild Turkey. Do you think people will like that?"
Me: "No, it's vegetarian only. You heard about the Bacon!"
Peter: "Not A WILD TURKEY. Wild Turkey, like the drink."


Also funny joke from Suave.

Women's on a plane. She hears a whisper. "Nice shoes." Asks the man next to her, did you hear that? He says no. Didn't hear a thing. "Nice purse." Asks the man again. He heard nothing. "Nice hair." Okay, she rings the stewardess. "I keep hearing this voice that is telling me really nice things about myself. No one else seems to hear it." "Oh, don't worry. That's just the peanuts. They're complimentary."

Tehe.

Jazz on Jackson- take 3

Another first Thursday (April-September), another wonderful evening at Jazz on Jackson Place. This time the Decatur House took down the tent. Risky with the sudden showers in DC, but definitely greatly appreciated. The weather was perfect, the music magical, and the crowd- well, it was all basically people Suave, myself, or IH knew.

Things I learned last night and this weekend-

Suave's hottie salsa partner dated Dick Hunter for a bit. We should make sure he's been tested since (mentally and STD wise).

I've now met 3 people on the e-mail between the Bacon and I. Everyone describes the Bacon as argumentative and annoying. Not one person agreed with the e-mail chain. Asshole.

I love the Beacon Bar. Think it's great for food and drinks. The staff is so nice. But the hell is this roof top price increase on the martini's? $4 downstairs and $11 upstairs???? And the menu upstairs is complete crap. None of the fun tapas of the downstairs. I get that you pay a premium for the view but can they at least bring the drink price down to $7 or $8. That seems more reasonable. Are we to believe that the electricity bill for the elevator ride up to the top costs them that much of an additional premium?

I think that their should be a government policy capping the price of drink in cities. Honestly. You can't prove to me that the Beacon Sky Bar or Eyebar spend that much more than the Big Hunt on their digs. It should be dealt with like gasoline. Federally restricted against price gauging.

So, I'm off to lunch in a bit with IH and AC. Should be a good time. Tonight, Superman Returns with Master G and her friend.

Have a fun weekend!!!

Extremes

Until recent years, I always wished that I was more bland. I wished my hair was stick straight with little volume and no curls in a boring light brown. I wished I liked to watch the news and CSI and whatever else everyone was talking about. I wished I had an unrecognizable voice on the phone, a true passion for Limited basic clothing pieces, and a habit of buying the most popular beige Toyota on the market. I wanted to fit in... to be the girl that everyone barely remembered... the one no one disliked because what was there to dislike about them. I wanted to be the person invited to everything with everyone all the time because I was easy. Simple. Plain. Bland.

Lately though, I've been thinking about how much more I enjoy the company of people with Extreme Personalities. People who bring something lively and interesting to my life. People who don't get along with everyone... who stand out in a crowd... who teach me something about anything at all. I look back at the girls who I forgot existed from high school (mainly because of MySpace and Friendster) and I'm actually happy my shape (small waste and hips) didn't allow me to look good in the short everyone wore. I'm actually happy that my hair didn't stay straight all the time in humid Alabama or that my coloring didn't fit light brown hair color. I'm happy my parents sent me to a camp no one else from Mobile was a camper at.

When I look at my group of friends, I can tell you original things about each one. I can tell you their interests, their career dreams, who their enemies are. I think it's important to have the balance of people you don't like and people you do. I think it's important to know what makes a good person and friend. I much prefer to have someone with an Extreme Personality in my corner than someone who has 8 million people they "sort of" know.

The more complex a person, the better. Call me a magnet for psychos, but truth be told, I'd like entertainment over a wallflower any day.

I'm happy my hair can go curly or straight. I'm happy some people don't like me (although, I'm happier that some people do, obviously). I'm happy that the friends I have bring something irreplaceable to my life. I'm happy that Extreme Personalities exist. What a boring life it could be.

4th of July Weekend

Frankly, it sucks to be back at work. Such a fun weekend.

Friday night, I met Sabrina and her outdoors crew at Alamo in Georgetown for really strong sangria and a light dinner (unfortunately, extra-light since my $14 salad consisted of 2 pieces of chicken, iceberg lettuce which they didn't even both to de-clump, and 4 slices of tomato). We bought tickets early for The Devil Wears Prada's opening night. It was sold out in 2 theaters there- by the way- people who don't like chick flicks...

Funny that they used the Fortune Magazine offices instead of the Conde Nast building... Also funny that they changed the entire ending from the book to the movie and humanized Anna Wintour. But other than that, not a bad movie. Definitely light and fluffy, just the way I like my movies.

Saturday Suave and I went to Sabrina's pool in Clarendon. Nothing's more relaxing than Life & Style, US Weekly, and sun bathing. Fabulous reading all about skin cancer being the second most deadly disease for women between the ages of 20-29 while bathing- smart Marie Claire? Never buying that for mindless pool reading again.

In the evening, Master G, Suave, our Producer friend and I headed to dinner in Georgetown at Benihana. Dear restaurant owner- when you're located within a shopping mall, don't alienate customers. With not a person waiting to be seated, we were told that our reservation at 8:45pm would not be held if the Producer did not arrive by 9pm. We giggled softly to ourselves and headed upstairs to J. Paul's where they seated us rather pleasantly. We drank a bottle of wine at dinner and then made our way to the waterfront for drinks to sustain our mini-buzzes (oh, and, yes, I drank entirely too much this weekend).

At the waterfront, Suave received insane pick-up lines from Master G's uber-powerful-for-being-super-young friend. Master G spent the majority of the weekend shocked at running into drunk co-workers... to summarize on that end as well. I got irritated by one of those no-chin overweight girls who likes a guy and spends the whole night hovering around him until he gets so shitty he takes her home. I normally wouldn't care, frankly, but she was hogging a spot of the bar while trying to flirt with him. You know the girls- with the mouth that suddenly becomes a neck so that the distance from their face to their neck swoops at an angle. But anyways, we had to leave, I was irritated.

We needed to allow the Producer and Suave to spend some more quality time together so we stumbled to Jury's in Dupont. A drunk Irish fellow, who Suave later said was named Ian, felt the need to flirt with Suave (who declared that her name was Sahara). When Master G and I tried to pretend we were still finishing our drinks so that the Producer could walk Suave home without awkwardness, Ian decided he should hit on Master G and I. We said we were lesbians, paid our bill, and left. Goodness, no matter how drunk you get, men, please understand that when you're about 50 we're just not that into you- ever- not even if you are a billionaire- k? Well, unless you look like Robert Redford- but Ian, you didn't. K.

More pool hopping on Sunday at Master G's pool. Movie night on Sunday night. And Pizza Hut? Don't ask what possessed me. I've not eaten a Pizza Hut pizza in about 10 years. After the other night, don't think I'll ever eat one again. Blah.

Kate had a party at our place Monday night so Sabrina and I started drinking around 7. We met Suave and Master G for a party on the roof of the Schuyler Arms on Columbia... the best view in DC if you ask me. It's the roof that inspired my move to DC actually... almost a year ago (next weekend). Memories. Kate's party continued until around 2am. Nice not having to entertain but still being able to have a party at your house... no cleaning, no buying alcohol, just enjoying. Maybe I should rent it out? Anyone interested?

Master G's friends had a barbecue yesterday complete with hot dogs, chocolate chip cookies, spiked watermelon, potato salad, and one of those Christmas light decorations set-up like an American flag. Tres fun.

We met O, who worked with Master G at her old job. O, who is apparently conservative, asked a girl we met and ended up hanging out with all night how many orgasms she had. See, I thought O was sort of cute until he got progressively drunk throughout the day- to a point where Suave ended up carrying his shoe laces home (still unclear about how this happened). Master G, again, kept repeating that he's usually a conservative and normal person at work... ah, alcohol.

We watched the fireworks back at the Schuyler Arms... and tried to sing the National Anthem with sour looks from the others on the roof. Come on people! What other day can you see "You're a Grand Old Flag." Honestly.

Ended the night at the new Johnny Rockets in Dupont. Ronda, our fun server, made the experience perfect. APK and I even have a picture now where we are sharing a milk shake. And no, my milk shake is not better than yours.