Chris is in town. My car is crumpled. These are mutually exclusive statements.

My car is crumpled. Okay, not, like, in the way a Civic looks like a ball of aluminum foil after it bumps into a wall. But, the hood is bent and the grill is pushed in. Randomly, the lights still work fine with no damage. BMW, built for German's who drive at night?

Three lanes became one on Constitution right before Memorial Bridge. Some a-hole was on my tail while another was trying to scoot in on my right side. Large black Lincoln SUV was in front of me with tractor pull on bumper (of course). I turn to see right side a-hole. Want to make sure he's not about to hit my car. Lincoln stops. I run into him. Blah.

I'm okay. Nothing a Xanex and a glass of wine couldn't fix. Parents are on a cruise till the 3rd with only an emergency number. Not calling and ruining their cruise. Going to get an estimate this afternoon. Then, figure out if it is worth filing a claim.

I haven't had an accident since high school. Insurance will only go up $30. That's a good thing. Deductible is only $500. I think it will be okay. Again, blah blah blah.

But, the good news is, Chris is in town!!!!!!!! I love love love Chris. He's a buddy from college. Dated Lyss for a short while then befriended all us girls, and the two of us became insta-friends. He's this total dorky hippy trapped in the body of a 6 foot 3 blond, blue-eyed, perfect dimpled person. Just a great guy. My mom loves him. Totally not into him at all. And vice versa. We've been friends from the start. So, it's nice to have a good, solid one of my guy friends to hang with tonight.

After graduation, Chris stayed in Amherst for the summer before his Accounting job began in September. I had 2 Betas (Asian fighting fish) senior year. They hate other fighting fish. You keep them in separate bowls. I couldn't bring them with me, so I gave Chris and Steve my fish to keep. The boys had all their friends over, drank a bunch, and put the two fish into a pot together to see which one would win. I'm told they even had bets going on red fish or blue fish reigning supreme. The blue fish won.

Chris came in to New York my last weekend there. I was packing up and had been out hard core Friday night. Chris called, "It's Saturday night. It's your LAST Saturday night in the City. You are getting dressed and meeting us out at Sutton Place in 30 minutes. And, I don't care if you don't like Sutton Place, because you're not 12. You are coming." It was one of my favorite nights in NYC. We were in Midtown. Chelsea. Meat Packing. Lower East Side. A diner in the Village. I got home at 6am. Love love love Chris.

So, car is crumpled. But, YAY, Chris is in town!

Torah Portion-

Not that I condone fascism, or any -ism for that matter. -Ism's in my opinion are not good. A person should not believe in an -ism, he should believe in himself. I quote John Lennon, "I don't believe in The Beatles, I just believe in me." Good point there. After all, he was the walrus. I could be the walrus. I'd still have to bum rides off people. - Ferris Bueller's Day Off

Or extreme religion, in my case, Judaism-

But, I do get Washington Hebrew's weekly Journal. And, while I've not been to synagogue since I paid for my membership in September, I do like reading the Torah portion column every week. It's interesting to see how each section relates to my own life.

This week's Torah portion was about the water splitting when the Israelites were being chased by the Egyptians. I liked this part of the column in the bulletin:

"To be human is to live between two expanses of water, searching for dry land amidst turbulent seas." & "Life provides so many uncertainties. Yet, through the experience of faith, through the comfort of family, of people-hood, we can find dry land."

In other news-

The Master and I have decided on a theme for the party in April we're throwing for Noah's campaign for Man of the Year Campaign . A Night of Mystique. Star, moon, sun, astrological sign decorations. Fortune cookies. Drinks with names like Potion Punch and Saturn Screwdriver. I hired a Tarot Card reader yesterday. Working on getting the belly dancer and palm reader still. I'll be in costume. A belly dancing costume selling Jupiter Jell-O shots.

Oh yeah, you KNOW you're coming.

Childhood is wasted on children.

Me as a baby. If only I could have enjoyed not being swamped on a Monday!

Welcome to the Jungle

I'll leave the description of the most insanely decorated party of the year to District Belle here. And instead, share some pictures with you of the evening. One note: while both Sassy and District Belle spent the evening chatting up 30-somethings, I discussed the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air with a 24-year-old. Think I'm having a regression to early-20s?




District Belle, myself, and Sassy decked out in Forever 21's finest animal print. Text to District Belle last week: "OMG! I just carried 10 animal print items into the dressing room. I looked like a cheese ball. People were staring."



The monkey was animated. It's eyes and mouth moved. Creepy. We took this picture purely so we could caption it, "Sooo not into spanking the monkey. We're lovers not fighters."




District Belle and I posing with the fish wallpaper all over the fridge. Note that there is a black light and that this wallpaper stays up all year round.

The television sets all played "JTV" a composite of Bettie Page, Tarzan, and past year party pics. The decorations were insane. I hadn't seen a dancing flower since 1985.

The two houses throwing the party were connected by a tent the hosts built along their patios. It was genius. And, everyone was dressed up.

For more pictures, check out my flickr account to the left. Or, see District Belle's photo of the bean dip llama. Yes, the bean dip was shaped like a llama. Insanity.

Chinese New Year and the Parting of the Sea

JK got four free tickets to the Chinese New Year Spectacular at GW's Lisner Auditorium last night with a VIP Reception before the show (Chinese food amongst gorgeous Chinese paintings). The show is put on by New Tang Dynasty Television. "NTDTV the only independent Chinese-language media company in the world today broadcasting uncensored Chinese-language information directly into Mainland China."

The colors in the show, from the costumes to the props to the backdrop, were such a beautiful rainbow of chaos. The remarkable costumes and the large number of people in each troupe (some had up to 16 people) truly created such a lovely show. Read more here.

After the show, I met up with Kix at his Logan Circle apartment... decorated without black leather couches and Ikea-esque furniture. I was pleasantly surprised to find two guys decorating in neutral tones and sophistication similar to the interior styles I prefer. We drank some wine and relaxed.

Today, my JLW advisor and group caught up at the Starbucks in Georgetown before our mid-year event. I told you about that girl Jaime in brief here. Well, I didn't tell you the whole story because it wasn't something I wanted to repeat. Let's just say she was the most classless and rude person I've met in a long while... and hideously unattractive. So, sitting with her at dinner a while back, the Pea had warned me before that she was much to take. At the top of her lungs, she discussed the poor clothing of the hostess. Then, she proceeded to attack everything I said... telling me that basically all the people we knew in common were sluts, my sorority sisters were sluts, everyone she talked to came out as a debutante, and yet, she couldn't understand why no guy (she talked as loud as possible about her issues with guys) would date her. Gee, wonder why. Finally, she said to me "UMass is, like, the second worst school in the country." She's from Worcester. Do you know Worcester? Not saying I know no one with class from there, I know a couple of very nice people, but in general... let the stereotype be on her rather than me.

So, I blew up at her at dinner in the mildest way I could. I started it off with, "Did you expect me not to say anything? What is wrong with you?" and ending it with, "This is a small city where you don't know who anyone is. How stupid are you? And frankly, you're bra is showing."

Well, this morning, I walked into my New Member event and guess who was there. She looked like a dear in headlights as District Belle and I whispered about her to the other girls in our group. Dumb ass. DC is a really small town. Don't attack people for no reason. Even if you're busted and pretentious and a social climber.

I'm meeting Stormy and District Belle tonight for a Jungle party in Ballston. We're wearing animal print. I felt so cheesy trying on only animal print clothing at Forever 21 the other night. I settled on zebra print. Animal patterns certainly aren't the best way to look svelte.

Uh. I didn't really drink that much. I promise.

And yet, I now own 20 pictures of me with random dudes at Mille and Al's. I remember one guy's first name. Mille and Al's on a Thursday night... hmmm.... Oh, and I look like a munchkin in that outfit. What was I thinking?

Peter thinks I'm a flirt addict. I'll point out, no one got my number. Who am I?

Question Mark

Remember how in the last season of Sex and the City the writers had to have Carrie bump into Aidan with a baby and wife? That was for me... and just about every other girl I know.

We all have our question mark. That one guy who we threw away due to our own issues. That one guy who we always think about whenever another relationship goes wrong. That one guy who we beat ourselves up about taking for granted.

I'm lucky in that I generally resolve my question marks. I think it has much to do with not being a piner. I tend to get closure before I move on for good. But, of course, I had one question mark in DC. A guy who liked me for everything I pride myself on. I tossed him away fearing he was boring. It wasn't my greatest moment.

He told me he had feelings for me, and didn't understand why I was pushing him away. He cooked me dinner, brought me a present from his trip to Arizona, and sat around chatting with my friends for hours. I told him I was with someone else and wanted to be friends with him. He told me he "hoped you and this guy worked out great." That was it.

Talking to District Belle a couple weeks ago about whether or not I should email him, she said, "I've always believed there's no harm in exploring a question mark. What do you have to lose?"

I didn't. I couldn't. Working the way I treated him in my head made me see that I wouldn't want to hear from myself if the situation was reversed. So, imagine my surprise when he randomnly emailed me Monday. American Idol, which I made him watch, got him thinking about me.

Last night, we met up for coffee. We talked about our lives. He'd dated a 34-year-old after me. His brother had filed for divorce. His job now required him to wear a suit everyday. He gave up trying to keep Kosher (huge issue for me, the Kosher keepin'. I'm Southern. We like meat.)

We ended up going to Mimi's for dinner. After a glass of wine, we got to talking. We realized we knew nothing about each other's lives. I thought he was boring. Content to stay home with his buddies watching television on a Saturday night. He thought I lived like a 40-year-old. Cooking dinner for my friends and discussing politics. We were both at Blue Gin the other night about an hour apart. We both like to drink and go to parties on weekends. We both pretended to be something we weren't assuming that's what the other one was like... and guess what, the two of us had more in common than we thought. We never even slept in the same bed. We never did more than kiss. We never knew each other.

And last night at dinner, I realized that I wasn't interested in him, still, but I was more interested in him then I was several months ago. I realized that the reason he's been a question mark is because I had in my head he was someone that perhaps I thought I should be with. Turns out, he was exactly like the people I'm already with. I just needed to figure out my question mark.

He's a period now. Concluded, officially.

Not just on sitcoms.

I totally know one of the guys at the Washington Auto Show currently trying to win a free car.

Since Tuesday, he has been competing in a promotional event at the Washington Auto Show, with the goal of winning a new Toyota. Fourteen hopefuls started out on Tuesday and the four contestants who can maintain physical contact with one of the cars displayed at the show will win a car.

Check out the web cam here.

I guess interests rates aren't quite low enough. Seriously, who does this?

Facebook is a bad, bad thing.

I'm 27 going on 22. It's official.



Facebook membership for me has been a bad, bad reminder that my little brother isn't little anymore. Josh went to school with all of his friends from elementary school through high school. They're all, like, 23 and 24 now. Guess what? Many of them are pretty hot now. Guess what else? I knew them when they had no facial hair and were crushing on my best friends.



Classic story? Elise came over freshman year. Elise was/is hot. Here's a picture of us over Thanksgiving this past year.

We've pretty much looked the same since we were 12. Anyways, so, Elise and I were trying on outfits before a party. We were/ are really into fashion and makeup. I forget where we were going. So, Josh was in 6th grade at the time. He and his friend Michael were/are obsessed with Elise. She comes out in this teeny dress of mine. "I look fat," she declared. I don't think Elise could ever look fat. "It's my mirror. Let's go look in my mom's." My brother and Michael saw her come out in this micro-mini dress. Following us into my mom's room, they stood with their mouths wide open. "You look so fine," Michael said ("fine" was cool to say back then). "OMG!" she declared, and locked herself in my mom's closet until I screamed and chased Josh and Michael downstairs into the playroom. "Dumb ass. Get the hell out of here!"

Needless to say, I was a bitch to Josh's friends most of my life. It's amazing they all still talk to me.

Okay, but now, many of them are HOT.

Elise called me a year ago at 3am out in Birmingham. "Holy shit. I just started talking to the hottest guy at this bar. He was seriously hot. So, he's asking me about you and knows my name. I can't figure out how the hell we know him, but I don't want to ask and look dumb. We're talking for a while longer and then someone yells Scott across the bar at him. OMG! Sam, it was Scott. I can't believe it was Scott. He's super hot now. Is it wrong if I hook up with him? I mean, I went to Winter Formal with his older brother, and he was still in middle school at the time. How creepy am I?"

Incidentally, I was remember when Scott was born. I remember fighting with his older brother in pre-school classes. You don't develop memory until 3-years-old. That's creepy.

On Facebook, you put how you know someone. ALL of Josh's friends have put some variation on me hooking up with them. My favorite is his married friend David (who's seriously hot now)... "we hooked up and it was good but Samantha wouldn't stop calling me." His friend Falin wrote that we hooked up, and I changed it to read "and it was terrible. That's what I get for hooking up with someone who was 12." He emailed me saying he laughed. He's currently at a work conference in Houston. He's old enough to be at a work conference. I'm really really old.

Oh, and back senior year of high school, my friend's little brother Bubba was best friends with this kid who was really hot. He was my brother's age. At the pool one day, Bubba took pictures of us. I guess this kid had a picture of me in a bikini on his wall. He was mildly obsessed, apparently. Scott was the one who told me. So, I avoided the situation. Even though, honestly, I was flattered and thought the kid was hot. Well, he's a friend of mine now on Facebook, and is still ridiculously hot. Like unbelievably gorgeous. Damn, missed that boat I guess.

Okay, enough, I'm seriously 27 going on 22. This is just bad.

Urg-

It started with Ali making me join Friendster. Now, suddenly, I'm on Friendster, MySpace, LinkedIN, LNS, Meetup, and more. I also manage to maintain about 20 different email accounts. Anyways, so my brother insisted I join Facebook about a year ago. I hadn't bothered with it, but my cousin and friend Jamo kept referencing the account. So, I just set it up. Besides about 10 people, everyone else I know on it is a friend of my brother's or someone who's big brother or sister I was friends with at some point. Regardless, Valli did have this adorable photo from Thanksgiving posted. I love it! How hot is John John!

No wonder I get bored easily with the men I meet. THIS is the type of guy I knew in Bama.

Fan-FREAKIN-Tastic!

Like single women didn't have enough doubts about meeting Prince Charming. Now there's a Cinderella that asks the question, what if the slipper didn't fit? WTF!

Chivalry is dead. Prince Charming is gay.

32 Flavors

Squint your eyes and look closer. I'm not between you and your ambition. I am a poster girl with no poster. I am thirty-two flavors and then some.

Vive suggested I share some of the more humorous stories from my youth. These are the ones my parents manage to tell every one of my potential suitors.

Where did I come from?

My parents didn't believe in lying to me, apparently. So, when I was 6-years-old and asked my mother where babies came from... she told me. All. In graphic details. Then she rented me the Where Did I Come From video. With Howie Mandel as the narrator (and now he looks like the Devil). I told the whole neighborhood. Kids asked their parents. Parents called my mother. I told my 3-year-old brother. I made him watch the video. We liked the part where the many sperm were racing in a swimming pool to get to the egg. The egg was portrayed as a fat, round blob with lipstick and high heels.

Meet Max and Courtney.

My father bought me a doll every time I got an A. He was a Surgeon, so he had limited time with me. I loved dolls. Thus, when I did well, he rewarded me with a present. Who knows the long term effects (Ferragamo shoes much?) My favorite two dolls, the ones I had antique beds for and a variety of cool clothes for, were Max and Courtney. Max was named after my friend Sarah's younger brother. Incidentally, Sarah moved when I was 9 and is now back in Mobile in medical school so I get to see her every time I come home. Courtney was named after my best friend at the time.

Max was "anatomically correct." I didn't know what that meant, but my parents laughed about it enough that I learned the term and that it meant he had private parts. My best neighborhood friend was a hard core Southern Baptist with bright blond hair, church every Sunday, and strict grandparents who dressed her up in lace and plaid much. Everything she had was monogrammed... including her bible. At her house one day with her grandparents, they saw me holding Max. "What a beautiful doll!" they exclaimed. "Thank you. His name is Max. He's anatomically correct. Want to see?" I recited back. I was 5-years-old. My mom got a phone call.

Courtney came with me to my father's annual surgery party that same year. Courtney was $50. I had cried and begged my father to buy her for me in the store. My allowance at the time was $1 a week. I had American Girls dolls... two of them... and Madame Alexander, porcelain, and antique dolls too... but I wasn't supposed to take them out with me. Courtney was the most expensive "play" doll I had. I dressed her up in all sorts of beautiful clothing. People always commented on her beauty. I was proud. My dad would say under his breath, "well, she better be for $50." So, at my dad's party, Courtney and I were dressed in matching outfits. Someone said to me, "what an adorable doll you have there. What sort of doll is she?" "She's a $50 doll." I responded. My dad was embarrassed. He loves that story.

Is this Mississippi?

I haven't always been as worldly as I am now. In fact, after being born and living in NYC for the first two years of my life, I cried hysterically the first time my mother put me on grass in our new suburban home in Mobile. I had only played on concrete playgrounds before. Of course, by the time I was 3, I was happy to stay in my fabulous backyard, in my playhouse, or swimming in our pool. So, when my parents (Montreal born-and-raised urbanites) told me we were driving to Mississippi one day, I had no idea what life was like outside of our Sugar Creek neighborhood.

"Are we there yet?" I asked over and over again. How parents don't intentionally lose their hearing, I have no idea.

Finally, we stopped to use the bathroom in a gas station. "Are we here now?" I asked again. "Yes, we're now in Mississippi." I looked around the gas station.

"Is Mississippi bigger than Winn Dixie?" I asked.

My parents said this is when they realized I was obviously gifted, tehe.

Snowball and Nibbles.

My dad wanted to teach me about genetics. He bought me two gerbils. I named them Snowball and Nibbles. (They also let me name a dog at 3-years-old. With limited vocabulary. The dog was a Yorkie. I named him Moppy.) Snowball and Nibbles had sex non-stop. Within a couple of months, I owned 22 gerbils.

I gave away all the males. My dad promised they'd have good homes. He tells me now they were eaten by snakes. I have nightmares often.

Snowball was my favorite. She was all white and very passive. She actually let me pick her up and stroke her hair. One morning, I noticed Snowball had gotten her tail stuck in one of the running wheels. I went to help her out and she was bleeding. I begged my mother to take her to the vet. So we did. She needed some antibiotics rubbed on it and to be kept separate in a cage for a couple of days.

Vet bill: $50. Travel cage: $25. Antibiotics: $10. My dad had to pick them up. The prescription name said "[Our last name], Snowball" on it. My dad blew up at my mom. "You took the $2 gerbil to the vet!"

The end. Hope you enjoyed.

Payton Manning Still Sucks Tom Brady's Balls.

That was our trivia team name this week at Fado. JM wouldn't let us leave out the balls part. He's from Boston. I spent the night picturing Payton Manning and Tom Brady naked. Together. Hubba hotness.



Some of the more interesting trivia questions last night? Ad slogans for the following: "Yeah, we've got that too!", "Try them again for the first time!", and the one I got, "You've got questions, we've got answers."



Britney Spear's first album? Watch your wording. What song by the Rolling Stone's has the following line in it: "I met a gin soaked, bar-room queen in Memphis." Who was convicted of murdering Nancy Spungen in a hotel room in NYC in October 1978?



Maude was a spin-off show of All In The Family. What was the spin-off show of Maude? Incidentally, I spent 5 minutes describing the yellow couch and J.J. "It's a tall, skinny black guy who's the son with huge hair who was always getting in trouble. They live in an apartment." Finally, Chris figured out where I was going with the description.



During the picture round, we couldn't guess the fat women... we said later we should have just put the name of some dude instead.



Changing gears...



So, I'm feeling violated by gmail. I'm sure others have mentioned this google searching your emails for indicators of your interests and then posting links in the sidebar:

SW and I made one random comment about my Victoria's Secret entry. Then, we were discussing the meaning of the Fractured Prune name, and the rumor Tom Brady is dating Giselle. Thus, the side bar is a collection lingerie shops, nursing home listings, and Tom Brady fan sights. To screw things up I e-mailed him a list of random comments.

Uh, let's see, random things. Fireflies trapped in jars. Lollipops and munchkins rock! How about some brie on those crackers? Hugh Hefner is the coolest guy ever. I stole a teddy bear from an orphan.

Here's what he got...

Awesome. I now have an ad for "butterfly releases for any event." I didn't even know there was such a thing. There's also a link to www.AreYouASlackerMom.com . I hope I'm not a slacker mom. I'd be incredibly excited if that ad was in response to your line about stealing a teddy bear from an orphan, though.

This is like a ridiculous new way to keep myself entertained all day. Let's see... Peruvian llama handlers! Someone give Mark-Paul Gosselaar a call! The state of Oregon just seceded. And, orphans don't appreciate brie!!!

Here's the dress Ali picked out for her wedding.

Why the sample is a size 12, I have no idea. Jill's not happy about the cut of the dress, but, I don't mind it. The color is celestial blue. I figure I can chop it off and wear it again, although I'm sure everyone says that and never wears these dresses again. I must say though, only Ali would want her bridesmaids to look smokin'. The cut is so low that I won't be wearing a bra, AND the little mole between my boobs completely shows.

FYI: My ladies will be covered all the way up in a dark color. I'd like to showcase me on my wedding not my friends' random moles.

Help Out a Marine!

Sent from the Master. Please e-mail me at GreenEggsSamDC@yahoo.com is you think you can help. I'll let you know where to bring stuff.

Hello all,

If you have DVD’s or magazines that you don’t watch/read anymore, I’m starting a collection to send to Dave in Ethiopia. They also requested some other stuff. Read the email below for more info. I’m going to mail out the package at the end of the week, so please let me know if you want to contribute anything. I’m sure they would appreciate any old movies/magazines you have. You can drop stuff at my apartment or I’m more than happy to come pick it up. Please let me know. I really appreciate any help you can provide. Check out the attached picture – it’s pretty sad. Let’s help our men in uniform – and it won’t cost you a thing! Feel free to forward this on to anyone else you think would want to help.

Thanks, The Master

From: David Jenning

Sent: Sunday, January 21, 2007 3:49 AM

Subject: Greetings from your friend in Ethiopia

Greetings and Salutations,

When we are not busy failing to prevent war between Ethiopia and Eritrea, or avoiding land mines, the UN likes to take a load off and enjoy our humble Team Site. Unfortunately for us, our our UN Team Site in Shiraro, Ethiopia is a really really humble.

As you can see from the attached photo of our UN residence in Ethiopia, things could be going better.

Luckily you can help. We (the 12-man multi-national UN team) could use any of the following items at our Team Site (listed in order of priority):

1) Booze
2) Non-perishable food (preferably cereal)
3) DVDs and Magazines
4) Whatever else is not illegal

I am not trying to guilt or force you into helping us, but believe me when I say it would be appreciated. Please box items carefully and send them to the following address in Virginia (US postal then forwards it to our Embassy in Addis Ababa, and our liaison in the city freights it 300 miles North to our position along the border with Eritrea).

US Embassy - Ethiopia

ATTN: Capt David Jenning

USDAO Addis Ababa

2030 Addis Ababa Place

Dulles, VA 20189-2030

Once again, you have no idea how much we would all appreciate your help. Thanks for taking the time to consider us.

Capt "Crazy" Dave Jenning
Team Site Shiraro, Ethiopia
United Nations Mission to Ethiopia and Eritrea
United Nations Department of Peace Keeping Operations

Subject: See What You've Done...

From: Peter Pan
To: Sam
Jan 20, 2007 1:47 PM

Last night, Ralph and I are out at Rumors, when he gets a strange text from a number he doesn't recognize:

"Hi Ralph. I just wanted to know if you want to go the National Gallery this weekend sometime, or just get together and hang out with me, since we live so close to each other." (paraphrasing)

It couldn't have been a wrong number, since she addressed Ralph directly... and yet, the whole thing sounded a little fake, since this appeared to be some random girl asking him out on a date, over a text message at 11pm on a Friday night. Ralph pondered whether or not it was one of the several girls he's involved with right now who might have changed her number, but there was no reason why she wouldn't let him know first.

Eventually, Ralph got the brilliant idea that maybe it was one of your friends still playing a prank on him, probably waiting for a response so she can laugh at it with all of her girlfriends. After some thought, we decided the best response would be, "Thanks, Clarissa -- we should definitely hang out sometime soon."

The text response he got later in the night?

"I don't know who Clarissa is, but I hope you have a good time with her! ~Irene" (apparently, a girl Ralph works with who has had a crush on him for a while, and finally took the initiative to ask him out...)

Oops. =D

-Peter

I should really begin with the forwarded e-mail Peter sent me on Friday from the most lost of the Lost Boys. Thus, WHY they were at Rumors.

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: Lost Boy
To: Peter, Ralph, Other Lost Boys
Jan 18, 2007 1:29 PM
Subject: Friday night

Alright people,

I know it's a bit early to be thinking about Friday, seeing that its tomorrow and all…but hence, this is my job.

So, the girls I work nearby, Lost Boy 1 met some of them and can vouch for their overall looks, have invited some of us out to join them for a birthday celebration.

Easy enough, small group of dudes, small group of honeys….fun times.

But, the plot thickens…One of them informed us recently that she is bringing ALL of her girl-friends from college along…ummmm…yes

Anyway, festivities begin tomorrow at the

Science Club at 10PM.

Who's in…

PS - Lost Boy 2…I owe you at least one or two beers for sketching out last time….sorry man…just had no place to leave my car…hope your around…

Lost Boy 3 & 4…if either of you can make it….we can pre-party at my place and cab in…and then cab back later….we'll figure it out

Lost Boy 5…I know man short notice, but let me know if you are in bro…if not then we'll have to plan something soon...

Text message from me to Peter on Saturday morning: Were you able to see boobs for your beads last night? Oh wait, you didn't have any beads. Oh wait, it's not Mardi Gras. Oh wait, none of this matters.

Paul Simon Weekend

If you took all the girls I knew. When I was single. And brought them all together for one night. I know they'd never match. My sweet imagination. And everything looks worse in black and white. Kodachrome. They give us those nice bright colors. They give us the greens of summers. Makes you think all the worlds a sunny day, oh yeah. I got a Nikon camera. I love to take a photograph. So mama don't take my kodachrome away.

I always loved that song.

Did you know, according to January's Good Housekeeping (I read it at Sears today, but I'll get to why I was there in a bit), that Olympus is recalling 35mm film cameras? These cameras might overheat and burn users when turned on. The hysterical part is that these cameras were sold between January 1989 and December 1995. So, has Olympus just ignored the problem for the last 7+ years? Just wondering.

But, anyways.

The weekend was quite the colorful adventure. Missdy had everyone over for dinner on Friday night. I left around 9:30 and headed up to Rockville to chill, watch television, and play Scrabble with friends for a low-key alternative to a night out. I left around 1:30am to drive home, dead sober (fyi Mom).

I was making sure I understood the directions and driving pretty slow on the local side of 270 South when I felt my driver's side tire blow. I pulled over to the shoulder, and stepped out to see the damage. My tire had popped right off the axle.

On the phone to a friend:

"Isn't this how the horror movie starts?" I half-joked, "The killer slashes my tires than follows me until I pull over on the side of the road. Then he kills me."

"I'd be more scared of the mechanic coming to change your tire in the middle of the night," he said to calm me down. Wonderful. I was jumpier than Hayden Panettiere in a cheer leading skirt.

After an hour of waiting, I'd gotten in touch with my mom who'd called Allstate and found out that they couldn't find one garage out of 20 in the area that would come before 4 hours. Lucky enough plenty of tow places take Visa. 411 gave me the number for Steve Geyers Towing and Transportation in Germantown, MD. The nicest man ever was there in less that 20 minutes. All ladies reading this, right down the number and save it.

I'm still irritated at Allstate. The exact purpose of a motor club membership (what the commercial would totally show) is a single, attractive, 20-something girl with a flat tire on a dark highway in the middle of the night. A 45-year-old man who walks out to his parking spot during the day in the suburbs to find a flat tire doesn't need the motor club.

That's why I was at Sears today. 2 new tires and 1 new battery.

I went to be at 5am on Friday night. I woke up at 2pm on Saturday. Kate and I spotted a mouse in the apartment. The damn girls up stairs bought a used couch which we're sure was a cocoon for this little grey thing. It ran from the kitchen to the living room... then into the bathroom... then down the hall and straight into my bedroom. I screamed at the top of my lungs and jumped on a chair with my cell phone. My landlord was over to put down glue traps an hour later. Our options are limited.

1) The mouse eats poison and dies somewhere. Probably in the walls. Worse, in my sock drawer.
2) The mouse gets stuck to glue and lives until we find it. Then what? Do we let it free or feed it to a snake?
3) The mouse goes into a trap meant to catch him. The trap door 50% of the time comes down too soon and chops the mouse in half. Mouse guts.

Kate's promised me she'll deal with the glued mouse. My apartment has about 50 traps throughout it. The mouse has avoided all of them.

I met Vive and Kix at the Dupont Metro to go to a CAN flag football party at the Crystal City Sports Pub. Luckily, the Master had let me pretend to be her so that I could get in without paying $15 (for non-football players). All that was included for admission was food and beer. I don't drink beer and only ate a hot dog, so I'm glad I didn't have to pay.

The bar was packed full of a wide variety of ages, diversity, and looks. JK and JM met us there. JK has declared that this year she's getting herself on a winning football and softball team. She's intensely competitive. She's also under five-foot and 100 pounds. Reminds me of the Giant saying last week that he knows he's in trouble when himself 10 years ago could definitely kick his ass now. That's sort of where I am these days.

After Crystal City, we metroed up to a gathering in the Camden Roosevelt's gorgeous party room to meet AM and his Bama friend (my new favorite person). Several more alcoholic beverages later, we wandered up to Bossa in Adams Morgan for salsa and 90s music. The Pea left a work function and met us there. I was so excited when my new Bama friend said, "okay but before we do anything, I'm going to need a drink!" Ah, Alabamians. Best thing since Bud Light.

Kix and I left Bossa around 1:30pm. The Pea-nut gallery was still there. I can't say why I'm calling them that now. They're reading this. They know. AM texting Vive. Can't bring ya'll anywhere, tehe.

Anyways.

And today, I drove through the snow to Sears. It's beginning to look a lot like winter. Finally.

Oh, and one more thing, check out PlanetLove by CARGO completely all purpose lip gloss at Sephora. The Lindsay Lohan color is so nice, and "the outer carton is made of biodegradable flower paper, infused with real flower seeds - simply moisten, plant, and wait for a bouquet of wild flowers to grow!" Is that not so gogo Gadget!

This just in (Giggles)

Message from the Alert DC email network: National Weather: Wind Speeds 30 to 36 mph. Please stabilize loose objects.

Dude, are taxpayer dollars supporting this person's job? Remember this tidbit.

Job Description reads:

Must be able to write in a manner that is vague and induces anxiety.

What I loved about Disney World.

My favorite thing about Disney World were the fake sets... seeing the Golden Girls house on the lot... that sort of thing. I think that's why I initially fell in love with DC. There are some streets, Newport Street (just south of O St. NW between 21st and 22nd) comes to mind, where you honestly feel like you are Jim Carrey in The Truman Show. What's so wrong about feeling safe? Like nothing bad will happen to you because you're the lead character?

Walking down Newport St. yesterday observing the finely organized townhouses in a myriad of colors(it's completely out of my way, and yet, I walk down it about once every other day intentionally), I found myself smelling something funny. Something horrid. Something like urine topped with feces topped with vomit topped with crack (and yes, I know what crack smells like having gone into a bathroom at Veselka after waiting 30 minutes and having the manager open the door to find a bum passed out in it. The manager informed me the strange rotten fruit smell was crack. It was 2am. I wanted pierogies. I got an ambulance and vomiting instead).

Anyways, back to Newport St. last night, I turned to see where that smell was coming from. It was a homeless man walking pretty far behind me with a blanket over his head. He was mumbling, loudly, something about the Lord coming down to save the people. I started to walk much faster, until I realized something. Uh, he wasn't following me. And, even if he were following me, it's not like I wouldn't know (that Pigpen kid in Charlie Brown much).

I was just talking to someone on Saturday night about how I feel safer in DC than New York, and yet, I shouldn't. AM's neighbor got killed in their apartment building by someone she knew and no one knew about it for 3 days. (Side note: Peter's been off gChat for 2 days. I called last night to make sure he wasn't dead. Now I'm being completely neurotic.)

And, I'm scared to death of rats. You knew that though. So, my observation is that I'm completely freaked out by the wrong things. No drugged crazy bum is coming after me on the street... and, if they are, it is not like I wouldn't realize it. And, rats aren't attacking me either unless I happen to roll around in garbage for a week or two. The Preppy Killer was hot. Ted Bundy was hot. Their prey were attracted to them. I mean, I realize theirs the Central Park Rapist to worry about and such still, but all the same, I'm not too worried about walking through Dupont Circle at night anymore.

Controversial comment here, but do you think rats attack bums? If no, why not?

Anyways. I just thought I'd point out that my walk down Newport Street got me thinkin'. Who is the big bad wolf, and who really isn't?

GChat with Vive

Vive: i like that gmail has a button allowing me to "delete forever." i wish that would work with men. i delete forever. don't know why i find that so entertaining.

So, I did it...

I attended a blogger meet-up. Well, with padding, considering the person organizing it is a friend from outside of the blogosphere. Vive came with me. We laughed much, and met up with some pretty normal folk. Of course, funniest conversation:

Vive looks across the table to someone.

"Can I ask you a strange question? Are you a poet?"

Everyone giggles, "We're all poets."

"No no. I mean, did you ever perform at Bossa Nova in Adams Morgan?"

"Yes. I did."

"Okay, I knew you looked familiar. My friend is a poet, and I spent a week with her going to different places."

Early in the day, I was emailing with I-66 discussing why I was cautious about attend a blogger happy hour. I'll just cut and paste what I wrote.

Well, there's a fine line. I'm not much for self-promotion (and not very good at it) and don't really expect that anyone will find my blog well-written and insightful (you know, unless learning about Clarissa is what you're looking for). It's mainly just for the entertainment of my friends. So, if I went, I'm not sure I'd want to say I had a blog. And then, if I didn't, I'd become a blogger groupy. Besides which, I think DC bloggers often pick on a lot of things I write about or are involved in. Who really wants that title? I'm probably over analyzing. I joked to Rob the other day: Did you ever think you'd be friends with an Alabama Conservative in Junior League on LNS?

Truth is, I was curious. Extremely curious and completely impressed. Very glad I went. Although, sitting with I-66, two blogger approached and introduced themselves to me. "Do you have a blog?" "Uh, no. I don't," I responded. "Oh, so you're like a blogger groupy." Then they got to talking to one another again.

I-66 smirked, "I was wondering how you'd field that."
"Blogger groupy," I distastefully repeated.

One More Pic-

Had to get permission to share. The girls modeling the latest in late-80s/ early 90s clothing. 90210 sweatshirt, Hey Dude t-shirt, Pippi Longstocking sweatshirt, and, though you can't see it, Caryn's tee reads Camp Anawanna!

Like, What's the 411?

In episode 2 of Clarissa Explains It All, Clarissa explains to the audience the meaning of the term "What's the 411?" "You know, like how you call 411 for information?" Throughout the show, she and her friends use that term. Nickelodean, educating the Shop 'Til You Drop-set everywhere (I loved that show! Go for the electronics aisle! Small boxes are always the best!). It's no wonder I got in trouble in 5th grade for dotting my I's with hearts.



I pulled the mattress from my sofa bed onto the floor and loaded it up with pillows, blankets, teen magazines, and candy for the girls. No half-naked pillow fights to report though boys. Sorry to disappoint.

I was up until 1am. Too much food. Way too much sugary junk food.



Vive on gchat this morning: I showed my friend the pictures, and he said "holy snack food batman that's a lot of estrogen in one room."

So, like, we totally prank called people last night. The Master suggested we order pizzas with extra anchovies and have them delivered to Peter and Ralph's apartments. One thing about getting older, you empathize with the delivery folk. Instead, we decided to have someone call Ralph and pretend to be a girl he met at Cloud on Saturday night. Caryn agreed to be the voice of "Clarissa." She had to say "What's the 411?" in the conversation.

On speaker phone-

"Hi, is this Ralph?"
"Yes."
"Hi Ralph. I met you at Cloud on Saturday night. APK gave me your number. I thought you were really hot and totally jacked."
"Oh, okay. I don't really remember you. What did you look like?"
"I'm short with long brown hair. Now I'm embarrassed that you don't remember me."
(Side Note: Ralph is usually only attracted to exotic girls. We wanted Caryn to say she was Asian. Kate pointed out that no one would describe themselves as Asian. Suave says, "Say you're from Taiwan." Kate says, "Clarissa from Taiwan. Who is named Clarissa from Taiwan?")
"Oh, okay. How do you know APK?"
"We're in law school together."
"Okay cool."
"So, what's the 411 with you?" (At this point, we've all got our faces in pillows trying to contain fits of laughter.)
"No much."
"Well, we should like get together."
"Sure. Maybe for lunch Monday or something? Coffee."
"Yeah. That sounds good."
"Why don't you email me this week?"
"Yeah, cool. What's your email address?"

We decided after the fact that she should have made her email address soccermom@gmail.com or bemybabydaddy@gmail.com ... spelling it out until he got it. Unfortunately, we didn't think that quickly. Bummer.

The Pea eventually called back Ralph pretending to be Melissa (aka Melissa Joan Hart who starred in Sabrina... we're original). Ralph had called APK who had declared he knew no Clarissa. Only APK would say, "Someone is stealing my identity." You're so vain, you probably think this song is about you. But Anyways.

We called Peter too, but he caught on pretty quickly (or so he says). Caryn was the voice again. Text from Peter after we hung up, "Might be a joke, but she's actually cute, I'd take that." She's free any day except Monday.


Are you a friend of Eye? She was most fascinated by a bunch of 3x5 half-naked 19-year-old men in Cosmo Girl on card stock designed for tear out to be distributed out as Valentine's Day cards. Expect half-naked jail bait to arrive from her around February 14th. She's just gotten into a fab law school for next fall. Maybe she can hit-up the Freshman dorms for some real life Eye candy. Shhhh... don't tell her man.


Suave, Vive, the Pea, and District Belle flipping through Bop magazine: "We are so old." "I have no idea who any of these boys are!" "This ones really hot. Is it wrong that I'm finding this one really hot?"

Caryn was able to fill us all in on the who's who of the ABC Family and Disney Channel line-up. Zac from High School Musical is dreamy. I said we should start one of the Mary Kate and Ashley websites for him. Turns out he is already legal. Born in 1987 that makes him 19. OMG, we are so old! According to, like, one of my mags, he so didn't sing all the songs in that movie. Taking a lesson from Jennifer Beals before him though, he confesses to his short comings.

Also of note? Me administering the "Is he a Heart breaker?" quiz in J-14 to Vive. Question 1: Is he popular? Question 2: Does he have a lot of after school activities (Drama, soccer, etc.)?


We gave up around the time it asked if his parents often grounded him for being out past curfew and instead consulted the Magic 8 Ball.



He TOTALLY, like, likes Vive. He's rad. I'm hoping he'll go skateboarding with her at the mall, like, later this week. His girlfriend can eat my shorts. As if she's even hot! Her Guess Jeans are soooo last season.


Ah, good times. Peace Out! No diggity? No doubt.

Way Cool!

Tonight the ladies are coming over to watch Clarissa Explains It All season 1.

The menu includes:

Chocolate milk, soda, and Capri Sun (Suave at Cosco last week looking at a bulk box of the 80s lunchbox classic, "I see they've still yet to make those things easier to open.")

Jujy Fruits, Wonka Bottle Caps, Goobers, Raisinettes, Twizzlers, Mike and Ikes, Milk Duds

Chips Ahoy originals in the blue package, Fig Newtons (okay, fat free, for the waistline conscious), Hostess Cupcakes

Cheddar goldfish (the ones without smiles. How creepy that they put smiles on the crackers? Who wants to eat something cute? I could barely swallow a Teddy Graham back in the day.) Doritos, classic Lays

Domino's pizza (delivered of course), Subway subs (I wanted to buy the Giant Subs we used to have at all middle school birthday parties, but, I called the store on 20th & M Street and a 3-foot turkey one would cost $38.95. Now, figuring that 3 individual foot long subs at $4.99 each would equal only $15.00, I'm a bit confused as to the pricing on that!)

I express ordered Girl Talk from eBay (the original 1988 game with zit stickers and not the That's So Raven electronic version available now.) My version contains a full sheet of the zit stickers. To play the game, you spin a board and are forced to answer truth or dare questions (call a boy and sing him a song.) If you fulfill the truth or dare, you get the selected number of points. If not, you have to put a sticker zit on your face. Every time you get 15 points, you get a fortune card... these include Special Moments, Children, Career, and Marriage. The first person to collect all four cards wins the game and gets to read the back of their cards for a fortune of what will occur in their future. If you see someone running down N Street tonight in only undies, I'm trying to find out what my children will be like, okay?

I've also purchased every teen magazine available, including Bop and Twist.

It is much more fun being a teenager when you have a disposable income. It's like when I go into Claire's now. I went to buy a bunch of cheap beaded necklaces to cut up and bead into new originals. A 14-year old girl was holding an adorable necklace. "Oh, where'd you get that?" I asked. "It's the last one. I got it in the sale bin," she smugly responded. "Thanks anyways." She walked it over to show her mom. Her mom said no, she couldn't get it. She brought it over to me, "if you want it, you can have it. My mom won't let me get it." Tehe, it is so fabulous being older. I love that necklace, by the way.

Boys, look out for prank calls. I was always HUGE on prank calls. Josh and I used to record ourselves asking to order things from QVC with ridiculous questions like, "I wanted the ring you just showed, but I'd like it with a pink stone instead. Can I get it with a pink stone? And, if you say no, I'm going to be very angry and start a strike outside QVC. What's your name? I need your name." Then, we'd hold down the rewind and play buttons on the tape recorder so that the voice playing sounded older and we call in. They traced back the calls after a while and called my mom. We were grounded.

Ah, good times.

Sober Much?

I am very thankful to have an extra day to catch up on sleep and rest after this past weekend. What a long, somewhat strange, and fun weekend it has been!

Friday night, District Belle and I met in the heated back garden of Mr. Smith’s for dinner and drinks. Three glasses of wine later, we should have guessed the night would have many stories to tell. We’d both never been to Blue Gin, so we were unaware it was down an alley. After walking up Wisconsin a bit, we decided to stop and ask someone where the bar was. I didn’t realize I was asking a gorgeous but foreign gentleman the location. “This is my first night here,” he smiled, “oh wait. Did you say Blue Gin? It is right down that alley way.” “We’ve both been living here how long? That’s so going on the blog,” I laughed.

Peter met us at Blue Gin, and we drank several more enjoyable Raspberry Stolis topped off with real raspberries. The party we were attending had moved upstairs. Looking up at the ceiling, District Belle noticed that the area surrounding the upstairs bar had a clear glass floor. I was in a dress. It was a very very good thing that she noticed the flooring.

Vive called us around 11pm to say she was headed to her friend’s party at Local 16. The guy throwing the party was described as being the Kevin Bacon of DC. Apparently, he knows the entire city. In the cab on the way to meet Vive, I called the Giant to join us at Local 16. He and his crew were on their way to Spank. He later explained what Spank was (rather exclusive) but District Belle and I both agreed that no matter how cool the place might be, the name made us cringe.

Local 16 was packed, however luckily I was already extremely drunk. We chatted to people and enjoyed more drinks until the Giant and his friend joined us. From there, the night involved a couple of shots and a cab ride to the Giants and me spilling a drink all over his den and him calling District Belle’s ex-interest to tell him that he was a dumb ass for loosing such a hot chick (we thought he was joking about calling, so then we were drunkenly upset).

I woke up at 1:30pm on Saturday morning without a hangover, which pretty much had me worrying.

I met the Pea and a psycho chick named Jamie at Sea Catch for dinner on Saturday night... I’m not going to write that story on here, because it pissed me off too much. The food was great, but the service was so terrible I don't think I'd return. I ordered a wine that was recorded on our bill as an orange juice? We met AC, Peter, the Master, JM, and others at Cloud for a “six degrees of separation” party that 300+ people had said they would attend. Cloud is a bit B&T for me to begin with, and, besides the fact that Cloud can’t really hold 300 people, having Cloud regulars there too made the party less than a good time.

A complete a-hole who I suppose you could say I’m friendly with (through Vive and others) decided to tell me that I’m off limits for dating amongst the tight-knit community for the next 10 months since APK and I broke up. Even though APK and I are fine and there are no hard feelings on either end. I was irritated. So, I drank more. The Pea and I realized we’d both been drunk together for 3 nights straight. You don’t want to think about this when you’re drinking, by the way, as it completely makes you anxious that you might indeed have a drinking problem.

We followed Peter and company to Porter’s around midnight. Dancing upstairs, we ran into a friend of the Master’s who I have always thought was cute. Chatting with him, I started to recall why I was told not to be interested in him (even though he totally looks like a young Paul Newman). He bought me a drink, and then I started to recall the facts slowly and verbally… as in, “oh yeah, I remember hearing you’d seen more ass than a toilet seat.” “OMG! Weren’t you hooking up with…” He was laughing, so I guess I said it flirtingly. I do recall that he told me about the girl he was said to be hooking up with, “she’s a nut. We’re all allowed to make mistakes, right?” He’s still hot. Who knows? It was nice actually getting to talk to him, and it turns out we know some of the same people from his home city too.

I came home around 3am and slept until 1pm again. I managed to stay out until 1pm last night with a friend in Bethesda. Not drinking though. I’m in serious detox. We ate fattening food, drank coffee, and talked to our toothless waitress at Tastee Diner. That was a nice PG-rated evening. I feel much better today.

Here We Go Now-

C'mon NowIf you wanna go and take a ride wit me wit three women in the fo' with the gold D's Oh why do I live this way? Must be the money!

Are you ready for the WEEKEND!

It should be a good time... parties to attend. People to meet!

So tonight- going out with District Belle and possibly Peter. Meeting at Mr. Smith's for happy hour, then hitting Blue Gin for a Junior League function, then to Local 16 for Vive's friend's party. Vive's friend is apparently like the Kevin Bacon of DC... knows everyone. I can't wait to see the crowd. I wonder if he'll have me saying "Let's here it for the boys!"

Tomorrow night, 6 degrees of separation party at Cloud featuring 300 people thus far who have responded yes to the evite. Goodness.

So, it looks to be like an exciting weekend that lies ahead. As Emerson said, "What lies behind us and lies before us are small matters compared to what lies within us." In my case this weekend, that will be much alcohol I'm sure!

Have a nice weekend!

Hey Jude!

Last night, I met the Pea and Vive at Lucky Bar for a late happy hour at 7pm. Lucky Bar was quite the scene on a Thursday night. We were enthused to stay longer than planned. I had a DC moment when I ran into a girl with whom I serve on my Alumni Association's steering committee. She was out with her coworker, one of them being APK's ex roommate. It's a small world afterall. Vive had texted her friend, an Oklahoma born and raised Jude Law lookalike to meet us out. I've been dying to meet this boy ever since I saw The Holiday weeks ago.

All I can say is, oh wow and hey Jude!

We finished our drinks and headed to Dragonfly for a sushi event there. I'm not a huge Dragonfly person. I feel like the concrete floors and uncomortable 70s-style chairs are a bit sterile for me. The place is like a modern furniture store being told I can't try out any of the furniture as it is artwork.

Up the stairs we went all the same. Jude and I sat on a couch chatting up Howard Stearn, Southern rock, living in Oklahoma, etc. I've become fantastic at not feeling anything quickly, and I am very proud of myself for being able to do it. Peter's convinced I'm going to spontaneously combust at 45 for repressing everything all the time. I don't know about that. Honestly, I think it's healthy to be able to walk away from situations that cause more stress than happiness.

And anyways, OMG, Jude was so hot. I don't know that it's meant to be anything, but it was sure fun to stare at him for a whole night. They grow them well in Oklahoma! For you and me alike, here's a picture of the real Jude Law. Drule forming on my mouth. I'll be his nanny any day!

Cone Cups?

I don't understand cone-shaped cups in offices. They have to be the most impractical invention. They don't sit on your desk, and they are hard to hold and drink. AND, they aren't that much cheaper than small, paper cups. It's like those collapsible camping cups that liquids squeeze out of the holes on, or a bowl that can't hold liquids. I just don't get them. Who invents this crap?

The President Spoke Last Night-

and, I'm not going to blog about politics on here. But, to respect the city I live in, I'll hold off posting today and instead tell you to go read some info about the speech last night. Go get educated people!

Uh-

So, I'm still friends with the guy... but just so you know how much my tastes have, er, evolved... below is an email from the first guy I was into and intimate with at college. He lives in San Diego. He's 29-years-old. He's super gorgeous. Apparently, he's on route to Africa. The email is below. I decided not to edit it, because it is funnier the way he wrote it. Who goes to Africa to get a tattoo?

Welcome once again to a G continental excursion! I was laid off, and after a couple of failed interviews (4 with one co, 2 w/ another) I decided to travel to Africa..I looked into working at the HRC in cairo, but the paperwork would take to long..and I would make only about $200 a month..besides, I don't think DJ Mary would have waited 5 months for me! so i shaved my head( after a mohawk first of course), grabbed my 7 year old sneakers,some ten high bourbon, duct tape, new socks (since I literally didn't have a sock without holes), and some dip, and set off..Just winging it..no visas secured..I did a little research with some peace core volunteers and here is my is my tentative 10 week itinerary: I have about a week extra time that I have factored in for unforseen circumstances, (ie..traveling somewhere I haven't thought of yet, sickness, meeting a girl, or being kidnapped) Fly from LA..stop in London (on brit airways)..arrive in capetown about 4 days and get a tattoo...fly to Maputo, Mozambique for about 4 days...on the water..known as africa's only latin city nand where S. Africans go to party form what I hear..then take a 20 hr train to Johannesburg S. Africa probably just for a few hours because it is much cheaper to fly form there to my next destination: Dar es Salaam, Tanzania..stay a few days and then to Zanzibar (island off the coast of Tanzania)..then somehow get to Arusha, Tanzania. this is the gateway city to the Tanzanian serenghetti..go on safari for a few days..then somehow travel by land to Rwanda where I will search the jungles for the mountain gorrillas..then take a bus to Kampala, Uganda..have some fun there and then to travel by land to Nairobi, Kenya..party there and then probably another safari..then the real fun, traveling the wild west(east) frontier from Nairobi, Kenya to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. if anyone is going to be worried about me on this trip, this will probably be the time..it will realisitically take a couple of days..no direct route..stay for awhile in Ethiopia and then fly to Cairo..but wait, i have a free two day layover in Sanaa,Yemen bec I'm flying Yemen airways..hope I can secure a visa.. spend my last week and a half in Egypt...then 2 day layover in London..leaving today 1/9

A pink phone does not indicate that I'm dumb!

So, about 2 weeks ago my month-old pink Razr said that my charger was "unauthorized." I've never lost, broken, or had a phone stolen, so I don't have insurance. I guess that was dumb, but all the same. I brought it into the Verizon store at Metro Center the next morning. I was told that my phone had water damage and that I'd need to buy another one because the charging portal was unfixable.

I keep the phone exclusively in my purse.

There's no way in hell it's water damaged. I had no choice as the battery was almost shot, so I bought another phone. I tried to talk to the horrible woman in Customer Service, but they wouldn't give me the promo price. She was so horrible, in fact, that I didn't even bother arguing. I knew that I'd do better to contact Verizon directly.

When I gave the phone to the technician to transfer my numbers over ($10!), he said it might not work since the portal was broken. But it worked fine. This indicated to me that perhaps I was being screwed.

I sent the phone down to my mother in Alabama via priority mail. We have had Verizon for so long (my Dad's a doctor and had one of those bag phones back in the 80s) that my mom knows the technician at her Verizon store pretty well.

She brought it into him and guess what? The phone WASN'T water damaged at all.

On the back of the phone, a white dot indicated corrosion... the white dot hadn't changed to red. It turns out, my charger was faulty. It also turns out that the Customer Service people do make commission off phone sales.

My mother sent the phone back to me, but not before calling the Verizon store manager... who apologized, refunded the shipping costs, and said she'd allow the second phone to be returned no problem. "My goal," my Mom said to me, "is to close that store down and/or own Verizon."

I brought the phone back. The Manager was actually very nice and completely apologetic. She left the Customer Service rep to return the old phone. "And what was the problem with the new phone," she asked me. "Your store lied to me and basically tried really hard to screw me out of $250." "Oh, yeah, I heard about this. I am so sorry for all the trouble it caused you." I felt sort-of bad for being a bit rude... but not really.

On the phone with Customer Service trying to transfer the service back to my old phone, she says to me, "there's a $20 transfer fee that he's saying isn't waved in the notes. Did you know about that?" "I'm not paying that $20 fee. If he'd like to talk to me or your Manager about it, feel free to pass on the phone." The fee was waved. My phone was restored.

I laughed a little when she called the phone to make sure it worked again and Jessica Simpson's A Public Affair played. Don't judge an owner by the color of her phone is the lesson here... and find a new Verizon store.

Salsa in Virginia

I joined AC last night at the Clarendon Grill for Salsa class. We were both amazed at #1 the turnout and #2 the amount of non-sketchy single men who attended. The beginner's class takes place every Monday at 7pm, Intermediate at 8pm, and then there's dancing at 9pm. Total cost- $5. Definitely going to make that a regular Monday night spot.

The only side note: at the beginning of class they split the guys and girls up on either side of the dance floor. When the class is ready to move to partner dancing, it becomes reminiscent of a 6th grade sock hop. The boys literally cross the dance floor looking for a partner. I was sitting out having a drink at that point in the class... a hot boy crossed towards AC, and (I'm so not joking) this large, unattractive woman jumps out of no where and asks him to dance with her. Reminded me of Rhonda from Saved by the Bell after Zach bugged Kelly's sleepover (FYI: I'm currently organizing a middle-school style party for my gal pals in DC with Clarissa Explains It All, Domino's Pizza, and Yoohoo. You'll have to bare with my random 1980-early 1990s references during these next couple weeks!)

After I saw Dirty Dancing Havana Nights, I made Ali go salsa dancing every weekend in NYC. She lived in Spain for a while and has a condo in Miami, so she was much better at the actual steps than I was. It took me a couple of nights (and glasses of sangria) at SOBs and Gonzalez Y Gonzalez to get used to the idea that the short, dirty foreign men weren't hitting on us at all. Rather, they honestly just wanted to dance. I loved the way they'd move you, so you had no other option but to salsa like a pro. I was trying to explain it to my friend Jon who ran into last night at Clarendon Grill. Basically, if they want your foot to move backward, they are leaning in to you so you have no option but to step back. If they want you to spin, they are flipping your hips and body until you are twirling like the ballerina on the top of a jewelry box.

On a completely irrelevant note, my brother forwarded me this nostalgia video. I laughed so hard when I saw it yesterday that I had to close the door to my office. If you don't get it, you aren't a child of the late 80s and early 90s.

WTF?

What is it with guys you once were friends with being complete a-holes once you stop hooking up? Seriously, I feel like saying, "Congratulations, you've now effectively been a big enough shit head that not only do I no longer want to kiss you, I don't want to ever talk to you again!"

We've been talking about this mucho lately.

It's always the older guys who act this way. The younger ones AT LEAST give you the benefit of a conversation re: "You're not right for me." or: "I'm not ready to committ to anything." It's like the longer a guy's resume gets, the more they forget that three years ago they would have died to go home with someone like you. And, generally with my guy friends, I tend to put them in the friend category at our first meeting... meaning, I probably didn't want them that much in the first place. So, it's relatively easy for most of us to get over them.

Just saying, people need to grow up. Had to vent for a second.

Geez....

I'm a HUGE fan of minor league baseball. I'm not sure if you knew that or not, but I love small stadiums and laid back fans and funky mascots and cheap ticket prices. When Jerk and I road-tripped from Connecticut to Alabama back in the summer of 2004, we spent 4th of July in Bowie Maryland, actually, at the Bowie Baysox game. I never imagined I'd be living in DC at the time.

A year later in New York, Jerk and I had woken up at 9am on the morning the Brooklyn Cyclones tickets for the 2005 season went on sale. We got 4 tickets in the best section for months later assuming we'd invite another couple along. We also had tickets to several Staten Island Yankee games throughout the 2005 season. The last official day Jerk and I ever spent as a couple was going to see the Staten Island Yankees with Lori and Joel on a Saturday. That was the night he left me on the subway to go stay at Candice's apartment... unapologetic. Which is why I demanded he leave me custody of the 4 Cyclone's tickets. And he did.

I invited Chris and Angelina to join me. Chris was the last guy I dated in college... and the last guy I'd dated before meeting Jerk and diving into a three year relationship. Chris is also one of the only examples of someone I have been able to date and remain close friends with, possibly because he's really one of the greatest guys on the planet. And, Angelina thought that Jerk was a complete tool.

So, Chris brought the girl he was seeing at the time. We had decided that since we were going to Coney Island, we should dress trashy. I was wearing a white tank top with a noticeable neon yellow bra underneath and a jean skirt. Angelina looked ever chic in a wife-beater and jeans. Chris, unshaven, wore a wife-beater and cargo shorts that made him look like a hot K-fed.

Danielle, Chris's friend, wore a polk-a-dot fitted shirt with a mismatched corduroy skirt, huge platform wedges, large plastic earrings, and acrylic blue over sized glasses. "I live in Brooklyn." She said to Angelina. "These glasses are from Canal Street. I bought them in 10 colors for $1 each." "I make jewelry for a living and work at a coffee shop to pay the bills." Oh, and she was from Normal, Illinois... where State Farm Insurance is based. She mentioned that a couple of times. Mismatching your clothes like everyone else in Brooklyn when you're from Normal, apparently makes you think you are abnormal?

You can buy yard cups filled with margaritas on Coney Island and refill them throughout the amusement park. Angelina and I proceeded to drink 2 yard each, win friendship bracelets playing skeeball, and get fake pink unicorn tattoos placed on our arms. Danielle didn't crack a smile... although, she was furious when her $1 sunglasses fell off during the bumper car ride and got destroyed. I thought she had 9 other pairs?

Now, Angelina is just cool... like Spuds MacKenzie in 1987 cool... she doesn't need to discuss her coolness or individuality, and she looses patience with the wannabee hipsters of New York. Besides the fact that Danielle was yawningly boring that day, she later ended up dicking over Chris, so I don't feel badly destroying her on my blog right now. Angelina saw her drunk and acting stupidly inappropriate at an art opening shortly after she was such a dick to Chris... so she's someone who has become a source of giggles for us.

That day at the baseball game, Danielle was really excited about these baseball cuff bracelets she had been making. Chris and she were both wearing these monstrosities. Angelina and I think they were hilarious. I'd almost forgotten about that girl and her strange baseball fetish until yesterday when Angela sent me the following link.

From Angelina to Sam: Does THIS look familiar?

From Sam to Angelina: OMG! How bizarre? Seriously, if this becomes high fashion and that bitchy, self-important, wannabee hipster becomes famous... dude, I'll stick my head in an oven somewhere. She was a royal slut towards Chris too.

Okay, I'm off to sharpen my claws now. Tehe. Happy Monday.