Chapter 2006

Life's too short to care about spilled milk, or something like that...

2007-08-01T16:12:00.001Z

I'm a different person than I was when I started blogging several years ago. I remember the first time I read Angelina's blog. I tried to understand what it was and why she updated it. Six months later, I found myself fresh out of a long relationship and sorting through an emotional pigsty to recover the person I'd been years before.

My first blog was a mess. I'm surprised anyone even read my ridiculous amount of whining. I deleted the entire thing when I realized my ex was reading it daily and started this one in January 2006. I decided this time around I'd explore my life and emotions in a more editorial way.

I still cannot believe that I retold so many stories from my past and kept this thing going for so long.

But, the thing is, (gag here) I've found myself again in the process. I recall how to laugh things off and truly believe the girl scout motto of "making new friends but keeping the old." When I left NYC, I said, "I'm so sick of fabulous! I just want fun." I'm enjoying the laughter and love in my life these days. Every time I get sad, I remember that none of this wonderful new life would have existed if Jerk and I hadn't broken up. And, on that note, I would like to do something here:

Every time I get sad, I remember than none of this wonderful new life would have existed if Jon and I hadn't broken up.

I'm not angry or sad or hurt anymore. Jon was a huge part of my life, and an important part of helping me find true happiness.

Now the time has come to leave the stories of my past behind and enjoy the humor, heart, and friendship in my life. I've started a new blog, The Thrown Sheep, that basically just reports from the trenches (gmail, gchat, social networking sites) on the constant entertainment surround me.

My friends are quirky and hilarious. I know you'll enjoy hearing more from them.

I leave you with a collection of links to my favorite posts these last couple years (for those of you bored at work, you now have something to read for a week or two).

-5 Things You Probably Shouldn't Know About Me circa January 31st, 2006.
- Baggage circa February 15th, 2006
- Two Valentines Day entries: 2006 and 2007
- In My Opinion circa March 20th, 2006
- Modern Relationship Levels circa March 26th, 2006
- An Elderly Person Dressed in a Really Slimming Outfit... circa April 5th, 2006
-Cued and Camping circa July 21st, 2006
-Pizza Pizza! "Diet" Pizza Tasting! circa September 5th, 2006
-26 and 364 Days Old circa October 4th, 2006
-Should Breaking Up be Hard to Do? circa October 16th, 2006
-Tall Tales from the Weekend circa November 5th, 2006
-My A-List circa April 12th 2007
-Word Freak circa April 13th, 2007
-If I didn't take a picture of it, and I didn't blog about it, did it happen? circa June 13th, 2007
-Oh oh oh oh oh. You Just Have to Go and Makeout Without Someone. circa June 27th, 2007

And for the two most controversial entries:

-My Intro to Kickball circa June 30th, 2006
-My Demote Delaware Campaign circa November 13th, 2006

I'd like to admit that I've had an amazing time both playing kickball and partying in Dewey Beach, DE. So, I officially retract my statements above.

And that is all folks. I thank you for reading this blog. I hope you'll need less tissue and patience for the next one.

Much love.

Sam

Congressional League Softball

2007-07-11T12:56:00.000Z

I went with Vive and her man to his work team's softball game last night at Haines Point. This was my first time attending the Congressional Softball League's games.

Haines Point, if you've never been, is such a beautiful DC oasis. Besides the wonderful, but slightly odd placement of the Awakening statue (a large man coming out of the ground). I would have chosen the beautiful location for the Iwo Jima Memorial rather than a large statue without a specific US meaning.

As Vive's boyfriend put out the basis, he remarked how this isn't really so much a softball field. The Congressional League also requires captains to schedule their own games since there are over 70 teams involved. Furthermore, no league bar is offered like in kickball, so the team's have to fend for themselves as far as getting good priced beer and wings.

I'd still trade in our bleacher-lined field in AdMo for the view at Haines Point. Sailboats, sun, water, fresh grass.

Their team was ridiculously good. They kicked some serious butt. Watching a guy out in left field catch a low, fast ball thrown directly at his stomach was impressive. It's always more fun watching a winning team.

After the game, we headed to the Hawk and Dove for dinner and drinks. The place was packed with pretentiously dressed young-faced people. Ah, intern season on the Hill. If I were a 24 year old dude, I'd be spending every night out picking up a different new-to-social-climbing-for-a-job folks.

The team was almost dissolved from the bar by 10pm. The company they work for has them at work at 6am, latest. So, no one really stays out, which makes me feel less mistaken for choosing to go to my kickball games over the softball games the last couple weeks.

But, I did meet a wonderful new group of people, and had a blast hanging out with Vive and her man. I think they may be my most favorite couple. I never feel like third wheel. So nice.

Let's Play Catch Up

2007-07-05T17:47:00.001Z

Saturday night was District Belle and Sassy's Bayside Reunion theme party (aka dress up like Saved By the Bell characters). I went as Lisa Turtle complete with bedazzled Keds, a Malibu Sands Club membership card, and Attic VIP card. Franky dressed like Kelly, wearing a red shirt that said "The Max." KK went as Jesse with caffeine pills, pencils, and a notepad too.

KK and I tried to act out Lisa taking the caffeine pills away from Jesse. We also walked on the metro singing "I'm so excited." and shared our Buddy Bands (colored hair bands) with other folks. I changed my ringtone to the Pointer Sister's rendition of the Hot Sundae song (you gotta know SBTB to get these jokes, btw) at some point in the evening. Jenny had found a Zack Morris brick-style cell phone prop. That was fun.

Sunday was JK's birthday party barbecue with guest appearances by the majority of the Lost Boys.

Monday night, the Mack got tickets through work for us to the Cubs vs Nats game. First row seats. Right behind home plate. Within the "Diamond Club." Free food and drink. Gluttony is my favorite sin. AM: "I think sloth is the most fun one."

In between innings, Franky: "Oh yay! It's the sweepers. That's my favorite part." She was referring to the guys who sweep the field. We then started chanting, "Let's go sweepers" throughout the entire game. Brando: "It's a good thing there wasn't a rain delay. You'd have orgasm from them putting out the tarp."

Tuesday night we celebrated Lisa's birthday at the Big Hunt. His royal douche bag was there, randomly, with a friend of Lisa's. I proceeded to drink as many drinks as I could so as to not punch him in his pompous face. Then, on drink 3, I decided to take a new approach and pretend he doesn't exist. He isn't much worth the energy it takes to hate him.

We left Big Hunt and headed to meet some kickball folks at Rumors where they were ending a bar crawl. I was drunk enough not to be phased by being at Rumors. I must remember that method of dealing with the bar. We then proceeded to Mad Hatter where we waited in line for a bit. The girls all wanted to head to AdMo thinking that they'd do better to get drinks there. I realized by buzz would diminish by the time I got in a cab, waited in a Nolan's line, and then waited for a drink. So, I ended up staying with a bunch of boys I barely know at Mad Hatter for the remainder of the evening.

I went to be at 4am. I woke up at 11am. I officially was conscious around 2pm when I left Franky and the Mack's pool after downing a cup of coffee and a bacon, egg, and cheese bagel from Brooklyn Bagel's in Arlington.

Everyone came over around 4pm to barbecue for the 4th. We ran in and outside about 3 times to avoid the official "scattered showers." Got to love DC summer weather. KK and Lisa made delicious desserts and AM2 brought smoked ribs in a sauce he made himself that would probably be in most death row inmate's last meal request.

We played some Girl Talk, swing danced outside to Sinatra, and chatted about everything until 9pm when we headed to Am2's roof at the St. George for the fireworks show. There, we attempted to get a round of "You're a Grand Old Flag" going, somewhat unsuccessfully.

What an awesome last couple days!

Oh oh oh oh oh. You just have to go and makeout with someone.

2007-06-27T18:00:00.000Z

I do not like 18th & Red one bit. There bugs crawling on the floor. It was about 700 degrees inside. We had to beg them to turn down the air, and, in the end, a girl from Brando's team had to do it herself. The music wasn't great. There was only space for 1 flip cup table. 1 of the women's bathroom stalls was out of order (so there was only 1 working). There was no soap and a broken sink in the women's stall. The bartenders were slow.

If the alcohol wasn't free from 7pm-12am, I would have left immediately.

District Belle attended and now there's the possibility that she'll play next year too! The Mack made me watch the stall door in the men's room, because the line for the one stall in the women's was wrapped around the block. A couple guys came into pee, and I was holding my camera around my wrist. They asked me not to take a picture of their penises.

Um gross! WTF? Do guys really think we want to see their penises urinating? I think I might barf.

I left, drunk, around 12am. Yawn.

In other news, Franky sent the following humerous email today:

On the trip back from Dewey I explained to Sam that making out in a bar is actually a really easy thing to accomplish. In just a few steps it can be done and after a few times and a few conquests you can be the master of your make out domain.

I present you with the steps below. I am really just making them up on the spot**. Feel free to edit/comment!

1. Look hot. This is more than just wearing something boobilicious or that shows off you ass. I have done both and gone home sans make out. It's also much more than the right bar lighting and mixture of booze, hunger and dehydration. It's about knowing that you are fine and workin it! You have to have your head in the game!
2. Ok so you look hot, have pre-gamed at your girls place before and now need to do a lap. Make sure you are comfortable in your shoes for the night because you may have to walk a lot to find any potential. This requires endurance and speed. You will have to block cigarettes if you are in NoVA, push obnoxious girls who stand in your way and don't roll with your crew in DC, and not trip on the already sticky/gummy/wet floor.
3. On the lap make eye contact and zero in on the target at hand.
4. This is the important part. Have a buddy system. Is he attractive? Is he a smoker? Does he seem single? Ask your girlfriend for advice before going in for the kill.
5. If he is wearing something conversational like high tops, a tee shirt that says, "Single Let's Mingle", or crocs you have your opening line. "Nice shoes/shirt wanna...make out?
6. Too fast, let me slow it down. You should smile and start to talk to the guy about either the song that's on, "This is my jam" or try to bust a move. My dancing skills are sub par at best so I prefer cover band dancing scenarios. The jumping is a natural aphrodisiac, I swear.
7. Ok so conversation is going. Ask him if he'd like to a)do a body shot b)do a shot or c)and this is the "tame" one if he wants to get a drink.
8. Make sure to get his name. Not that this matters but it could assist in the nickname process later.
9. Get closer to him as he is talking about whatever it is. Doesn't matter what he is saying really, unless it's something along the lines of pwning someone. Then the information could be crucial.
10. Finally as you've come in 90%(Thanks HITCH!) he should move in for the 10%.

MAKEOUT CITY POPULATION YOU!! CONGRATS!! CONGRATS!!

**OK what am I talking about? I am sooo not an expert. It's all about timing and attitude. Go in for the kill and make sure your surroundings do not have people you have made out with in the past too nearby for this may be a conflict of interest.

Hope these rules help!
Love you guys!!

Franky

Planning for tonight-

2007-06-26T14:20:00.000Z

From Kid Kickball (I love that name for the president of our league's board. It came from the brown team.)

Congratulations to the 2007 Adams Morgan Division Champions: Playground Punks. They are also the first two time winner in AdMo Division history (see 2005).

Be there at the End of Season party on Tuesday June 26, 2007 at 18th and Red in Adams Morgan to see them receive the new AdMo Division trophy!

And don't forget that the party is FREE for division players. With FREE drinks. Maybe some food. We have a DJ too. 7PM - Midnight.

Its your last chance for that drunken hookup!

Email chain from the girls on my team regarding the above. I'm using Player 1, Player 2, etc., because I don't want to get anyone in trouble:

Player 1: haha... BEST LINE: last chance for drunken hookup....!!! cant wait. plus no one will be in kickball shirts, so we wont have to worry what shade of green someone is on [the girls on our team have exclusively hooked up with only people on the green teams, of course there are about 5 varieties of green, so that's a nice amount of people to choose from] ! i call dibs on drew, the catcher from orange team! haha!!

Player 2: Hahah... I know I saw that. Check check... already done. Which one is Drew...from ugly orange or bright orange. Was he one of the guys from the night Fiery One sucker punched orange team guy with glasses?

Player 1: no... bright orange. not ugly orange. i pointed him out to two of the other girls... kinda cute. bigger guy- looks like he could break you. he asked my name last tuesday after hours.

Player 3: He is cute... go for it! Tomorrow will be fun.... great way to end the season :-).

Player 4: So, is everyone looking all cute? I don't know what to wear.

Me: I am wearing my boobylicious Deweylicious dress (see pics on Facebook). Bright orange and blue make brown. Oh well=) So, you think we can pretend District Belle is someone from the team? Like that random weird girl who never shows???

Player 1: ha... yea, District Belle could blend in as a player on our team.. considering we will be the ONLY girls from our team.

i'm wearing a black dress, similar to my black shirt that ties in back, but a dress version. boobs will most likely be popping out.

i have a work event, ill be there at like 7:30-8. .. ready to booze it up, kickball style!

Me: Cool. I nominate District Belle to play random weird girl who never shows up. Sound good?

District Belle: Sounds like fun though... never been to this bar?!?

Text message from Player 1 last night: tried on dress for tomorrow. too slutty i think. need your opinion. i'm definitely coming over after work for outfit advice.

My text message back: sounds good. wear the dress. i am going for showing tits. let's bring tits back.

Email from Kid Kickball today:

As advertised on the website and via numerous emails, the End of Season Party is tonight at 18th and Red (formerly Anzu, 2436 18th St. NW. ) in Adams Morgan. From 7PM to midnight we will have an open bar (with free beer and well drinks), a DJ, maybe some food (undecided), and a very brief awards ceremony.

We will also be unveiling the new Adams Morgan Cup (aka Eastwick Cup in honor of former AdMo President Eastwick). The Cup, similar to the Stanley Cup, records the division winner each year. Each winning team is allowed to hold the cup until the following year.

Playa and Lush of the year winners will also receive their prizes.

The AdMo Division End of Season Party is FREE to division players. $10 for everyone else.

Player 1: hmm... what if District Belle has to check her name at the door, AND in addition show her ID. yes, this is a scenario i thought about while getting dressed this morning. hmm, i mean $10 for all you can drink really isnt bad, if it comes down to it. and well drinks... sam, what are the chances it'll be raspberry stoli? unlikely, yea, damn! see yall tonight. i did not bring a back up outfit, so i will be the one wih the boobs popping out. sam and i are trying to bring it back.. kinda like bringing sexy back- but they're boobs.

District Belle: I think I can swing the $10 if I gotta... =) Well, I'm wearing my dress to work. I'm thinking I might have pushed the dress code just a bit. Oh well!

Me: Awesome! Yeah, cranberry and vodka it is=) And, yeah, I bet it's just a check off at the door- so she's random weird girl who never come to any games.

Player 4: So is everyone dressing up like they're going out?

District Belle: I am ... cute capped sleeve dress. Pretty low v-neck (by my standards, anyway!!)

Player 3: I'm wearing a skirt and tank top... I was looking at my dresses this morning and wasn't feeling any of them....

Player 1: i'm wearing a cute capped sleeve dress too. low v-neck. its all black. i am wearing a tank underneath it to work, and then after work, the tank top comes out!

Player 4: I was gonna wear a green tube top dress with flip flops. Its the same dress i wore on my birthday but actually only Sam saw me and she probably doesn't remember. Whatever, I'm wearing it, i'm sure its fine.

Brando last night: I like that you go out more than me and all. I just wish I didn't have to be on volume control 4 nights a week.

Me: Fair enough. My drinking will slow down beginning on Wednesday.

A Non-Legwarmed Dewbie No More.

2007-06-25T18:15:00.000Z

Oh what a weekend.

I don't even know where to begin telling you about it. From my new obsession to Kent Island, to SW pulling down a guys pants and exposing him to the whole 80s crowd at the Legwarmers concert, to Lisa and I waking up with our bags in a double bed in Dewey, to dancing on stage at the Rusty Rudder with Kristin and the Noise.

Oh my my my.

I give you a pictorial overview of the weekend.

District Belle met me at the Foggy Bottom metro before we drove over to MS and SW's house for a pre-Legwarmer's party and photo op. She wore her sunglasses on the metro to minimize the looks she was getting for sporting a mini skirt and shoulder showing shirt complete with a rainbow strapped bra. The blue eyeshadow hiding didn't help.

The show was one of the only places where not being in costume would make you look silly.

Standing in the bathroom line- Me: OMG, Led Zeppelin might be playing here. Could that happen? How cool! The Mack: That's Lez Zeppelin. Probably a Lesbian cover band. Not that I wouldn't go or anything.

So much fun!

Saturday morning, we woke up entirely too early and met at Franky and the Mack's to embark on our Dewey Beach adventure. Lisa's got a half share for the summer. She gets a guaranteed bed (which means half a bed if the bed is a queen or double) for the summer. For $50 a night, we get to be guests and sleep on an air mattress on the floor in the house. This also includes alcohol. We decided to try this out for one night before committing to a full weekend in the future.

Peter gave us these crazy awesome directions through the Maryland and Delaware corn fields. We called him to say we were extremely thankful for the hour he saved us. Peter: There isn't a car in sight, I'm sure. How do you like the corn fields? Me: Well besides seeing a dude teaching another dude how to dance and some kids trying to get us to join them in the corn, we're doing okay. Oh and this hot guy on a tractor is writing things in the corn for us.

We laid out for a couple hours and then hit the Lighthouse for infamous orange crush drinks. The Mack had a slight contact malfunction and ended up winking at the bartender. It didn't get us free drinks. Better luck next time.

We showered and joined the other house shares and their guests for a game of flip cup and beer pong at the next door neighbors house. The neighbors were about 40 and had a breathalyzer they kept administering on Franky and the Mack. Once Franky's came out sober, they moved along to another girl.

An impromptu dance party then began. I liked how the only artwork (outside of Bud Light ads on the wall) was hanging crooked. I made the Mack take a picture with me pretending like we were leaning with it. My drink was super strong. It was hilarious at the time.

We danced for who knows how long. Franky and I kept adding alcohol, but no mixers, to our drink. Then we headed to the Rusty Rudder to hear Kristin and the Noise play. I had no idea who the band was, but everyone else seemed super excited. On route by foot, one of the boys suggested the two of us take a rickshaw. The guy had lost his keys and spent the entire weekend whining about it. I called the Mack: Look across the street now. Look where I am. The Mack: What? OMG! How and when did you get in a rickshaw? Think they'll drive Steve back to DC.

After one kamikaze shot, we danced around only to come face to face with a poster that read "They Might be Giants." Lisa is sharing a house with the Giant's crew, randomly, in case you didn't remember. Actually, those we met and hung with that night were completely awesome. The Giant wasn't there, so it wasn't uncomfortable at all. Doubt it would be anyways.

Then we took jello shots. We got some dude to take the photo only to realize later his shirt said "You're looking at a legend." I would never associate with someone who wore something like that normally. Blame it on the shot.

We pushed our way to the front of the stage only to be pulled on to dance with Kristin and the Noise. I gave my camera to a guy from the house who took a million awesome shots of our dance moves. Those guys in the front were really really ridiculously into us. It was sort of gross. No one recalls what songs were playing, and yet, Franky was able to remember the lyrics and song Jesse sang for Rebecca, Nicky, and Alex on Full House ("If every word you said could make me laugh, I'd talk forever...")

We danced on the ground for a while. I don't know who the dude behind us is...

Sleeping arrangements were strange. Franky and the Mack shared a twin bed in a room with another dude from the house. They were woken up by some girls singing to the dude, "Wake up and don't forget your umbrella, brella, brella, hey hey." Lisa and I awoke on the 3rd floor in a full bed when a girl came in from the night out at 7am. We'd fallen asleep with our purses in bed like we were backpacking Europe or something. Perky all the same, we dressed and headed to the beach to lay out and then strolled the Rehoboth boardwalk.

We had a little too much rearranging the magnets in a 5 & 10 on the boardwalk. It kept us laughing all day.

On the way back, we stopped at a WaWa for gas and sandwiches. There, we spotted another Giant. It was a MUST TAKE picture.

Lisa's statement that she didn't get the deal with sandwiches and WaWa sparked a 2 hour debate on the car ride back about sandwiches. We stopped it finally by trying to play 6 degrees. With our brains fried, we managed to figure out a way to trace Andrew McCarthy back to Andrew McCarthy. At that point, we pumped up my mixed cds of teen movie soundtracks and enjoyed the view of Kent Island (I never knew it existed and fully intend to take a day trip there now)!

The end. I left out like a million other funny things (including the following conversation at Mama's Celeste after the bar. Me: Oh, he's cute. Excuse me, how old are you? Guy: 18. Why? Me: Oh, I wish you'd said 20. Oh well. Andrew: He probably should start by wearing shoes. Me: Oops. Didn't notice that.)

I need to sleeeeep.

Let the weekend begin.

2007-06-22T20:21:00.000Z

from: the Mack
to: Lisa (that's formally CE, but since we now know she dated a computer dork. She gets a name based on the hot chick created by Anthony Michael Hall in Weird Science), Franky
date: Jun 22, 2007 1:43 PM
subject: Fwd: Starboard Update!!

lisa- i don't know if you subscribe... but i do... DEWEY BALLER....

check out the fun stuff going on at starboard tomorrow!!! PIG ROAST! holler!!

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: monty@thestarboard.com <monty@thestarboard.com>
Date: Jun 22, 2007 1:36 PM
Subject: Starboard Update!!

June 22nd, 2007 - THIS WEEKEND!

SATURDAY: (COORS LIGHT PIG ROAST)
Obviously you will start your day off right here with our incredible breakfast, and a Bloody Mary, Mimosa, Red Bull, or whatever you need to revitalize yourself! Some of you will head to the beach with the beautiful weather, while the rest of you will not even think of bringing a beach chair, as your day will be spent right here with us on our deck! As I always say, Protect your Skin, Not your Liver... spend your daytime at The Starboard!
COORS LIGHT wants to thank all of you that come to Dewey Beach for the Weekends by giving the first 400 of you tomorrow a Gift Bag from Coors Light and The Starboard! At 1pm Saturday, their promotional girls will be here to distribute to all of you that are here drinking Coors Light the gift bag, which is just another great souvenir from your summer of 2007 here in Dewey Beach! Coors Light has helped us purchase a beautiful new smoker/grill that is out in our parking lot to do Saturday afternoon PIG ROASTS!! So beginning tomorrow, you can stop in for some extremely Fresh Pulled Pork BBQ from right out front on our new grill! Could be just the thing to hit the spot when you leave the beach!
Saturday night, DJ Smoky is here and with No Cover charge ever here, the crowds will be huge, and the lines will be long for sure! So get showered up after Jam Session or whatever, and get back here quickly for the best Saturday night spot in Dewey!

WEEKEND WEATHER!
We have seen it all here on our Dewey Summer Weekends, Sun, Cold, Wind, Rain, Hurricanes,etc... but this weekend looks to be about as PERFECT a forecast we can get. SUNNY, SUNNY, and SUNNY! Luckily for you, The Starboard is SPF 1000, so you are safe to spend your day in our Air Conditioning! Ha!

TIME TO HIT DEWEY BEACH for the weekend, we are all stocked, ready and waiting here at The Starboard!!
Drive Safely!
-Monty

from: Franky

This jewish girl loves her piggies! Can't wait to eat them while laying in a blanket on the beach! Mack, I will bring my IU one if you promise not to lose it!

hahaha
Sooo psyched!!

from: The Mack

hahaha.. wow. i just laughed out loud, and i was on phone when i read this!

pigs in a blanket.ha. damn.

from: Sam

the trojan commercial comes to mind...

from: Franky

hahaha that commercial is on the home page of myspace. I think of you Sam everytime I see it.

uh you know what I mean...

from: The Mack

yea... i notcied it was on myspace too.
i'm just so NOT offended by that commercial... i think its very clever and funny!!

lisa- wanna walk over to my place like 715 or so and ill drive us to ballston.
sam- whats yours and district belle's plan for tonight [for the Legwarmer's concert]?

from: Sam

leaving my place like 7:15-7:30ish and heading down to the pre-party. So, guess all meet there?

from: the Mack

yea. i can fit us all in car. and i think kk is coming over and then will drive to ballston... so lisa we got you covered with car options. everyone better be dressed up tho! i may need to adjust my outfit at the pre-party when i get more accessories from peeps.

oh, i had AR go out today and buy us all ring pops!!! sooo cool, right!

from: Lisa

Haha awesome! I need to leave work early and get my outfit together- I have no idea what I am wearing!! I just emailed my roommate to see if she can be ready by 7:15 and who will be coming. She is infamous for being late, so I don’t want to hold you back- I’ll let you know her deal when she gets back to me. KK is driving too? or just leaving her car in ballston?

from: Sam

Random question not associated with tonight, but sorta associated (my hairs curly for tonight, clearly more 80s). Tomorrow night, if I want to straighten before we go out, what is the primping situation at the house? Should I buy a little stand up mirror?

from: Lisa

There is a “girls only” bathroom and a few mirrors in random rooms (plus 2 other bathrooms with mirrors). You should be okay finding a mirror to straighten your hair….i had no problem last time.

from: Sam

okay. awesome! i'm so HM [high maintenance for the chickish abbreviation oblivious] sometime!

from: the Mack

oh, when it come to hair. i am totally HM. i'm bring hair dryer. straightener. products.
its on!

from: Sam

oh cool. can i use your hair dryer? i'm bringing my straightening iron though, simultaneous straightening to be done.

from: the Mack

done. i don't need a mirror.... i'm that skilled in the art of straightening!

oh, i got a deck of cards too.. yes, unrelated to hair care maintenance.

Perhaps Pitch was right earlier when he decided not to come with us to the Legwarmer's tonight because it might be too many chicks. He declared:

I haven't found something better...I just don't want to impose on your girly group tonight...I might end up waking up saturday morning with breasts.

don't want that.

I give you my life-

2007-06-21T21:41:00.000Z

-----Original Message-----
From: Ali
To: Friends and Family
Sent: Thu, 21 Jun 2007 3:15 pm
Subject: engagement photos

Hi Guys,
Matthew and I just did our engagement shoot last weekend with our (AMAZING) wedding photographer, Angelica Glass. We romped around the streets of Manhattan for about an hour, and here is a “preview” of some of the shots she took. Check them out on her blog…
I can’t wait to work with her on August 18th!
Love,
Ali

http://angelicaglass.bigfolioblog.com/weblog/post/8171

-----Original Message-----
From: Sam
To: Ali
Sent: Thu, 21 Jun 2007 5:43 pm
Subject: Re: engagement photos

okay, while they're very attractive and i totally want to buy the perfume/clothing/alcohol/motorcycle/dating service you and matthew are selling, i have one question- what would she do if her clients were big fat ugly people who met through an on-line game? it's gotta be an easy job when an ex-model and beauty queen meets a 6-foot-4 floridian ex-fraternity president turned investment banker.

just saying. love you mucho! sam.

Trojan says men are pigs and other tid bits.

2007-06-21T14:42:00.000Z

Forward from Vive's friend:

Check out Trojan's new condom ad: http://www.trojanevolve.com/.

According to Kaiser, Fox and CBS recently rejected a television commercial for Trojan condoms, the New York Times reports. Fox in a letter to Trojan said it rejected the ad because contraceptive "advertising must stress health-related uses rather than the prevention of pregnancy." CBS in a rejection wrote that the ad was not "appropriate" for the network "even with late-night only restrictions."

Lame of both Fox and CBS, but I think the commercial is quite funny!

Leave it to Peter to send me the following gChat message first thing in the morning:

Peter: where not to have sex: http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,284955,00.html

I then cut and pasted the link for Brando:

Brando: i'll read it later. i'm in a room with 4 people. ha.
Sam: subject header is "S.C. Cops: Naked Couple Falls 50 Feet From Rooftop to Their Deaths"
Brando: hahaha. nice.
Sam: so, make sure not to do it on any roofs.
Brando: ok. i'll remember that one.

Palm Beach Tanning in Arlington:

I'm unable to fake and bake. My father's a burn doctor. I'd be disowned. Even when tanning beds were deemed safe (wtf?) back in the 90s, I couldn't go with my friends just in case I spontaneously combusted and was found by my folks charcoaled in a bed. I'd be put in an anonymous grave in Alaska before they allowed me next to them having died in such a way.

Incidentally, when I smoked, I used to joke that I couldn't cheat on lung cancer with skin cancer.

Anyways, I'm going to Dewey with the ladies this weekend and pale. Not as pale as I was before Florida. But pale enough to not look like the bronzed goddess I have in my head I could be with a tan (I'm not sure why we all think a tan can make us look like a Hawaiian Tropics model suddenly, but all the same).

So, I went to Palm Beach Tan on Wilson Blvd. for a Mystic Tan (spray on without UV rays). They open at 6am, so it's possible to go before work, which is nice. The Assistant Manager was the most pleasant person on the planet even super early in the morning (I'm not exaggerating). She explained everything to me and then had me watch a video. It's a little confusing figuring out what the "barrier cream" you put on your feet and hands does. She was very good about explaining. $25 later, I have a nice, mild glow that doesn't scream skin cancer victim with potential for 35-year-old leather face.

And that's all.

I've been looking for a driver who is qualified

2007-06-19T14:35:00.000Z

So if you think that you´re the one, step into my ride. I´m a fine-tuned supersonics speed machine. Got a sunroof top and a gangster lean.

I'm mildly obsessed with Rihanna's "Shut Up and Drive" right now. Well, that and that song "New Shoes" by Paolo Nutini on the Hilton commercial, Gwen Stefani's "4 in the Morning," and the Red Hot Chili Pepper's "Snow."

Poor Vive, AB, and Brando. Last night, they came over to barbecue and were forced to listen to my newest random downloads from iTunes. They sucked it up, smiled, and kept their eyes on the hickory smoked chicken as they cringed at my bizarre music taste.

Yesterday's gchat with the Mack got me thinking about my mild obsessions with a variety of things. Convo is below:

The Mack: do you say "totally" alot
Sam: yeah all the time
The Mack: b/c i've been saying it SOOOO much
Sam: brando makes fun of me
The Mack: i think i got it from you
Sam: totally
The Mack: yea, no, for real... that's my answer for anything
Sam: yeah, that's all me
The Mack: thanks. bitch
Sam: and bizarre is from the master
The Mack: ha. kidding.
Sam: clearly is from the pea. but, i talk like a valley girl. i say like, chick, dude, and totally on a regular basis.
The Mack: ha. the master and the pea do say those catch phrases. we should turn it into a drinking game.
Sam: and franky is "i know, right?" which i've picked up recently.
The Mack.: i say dude and totally. i know, right? is me. franky got that from me
Sam: oh really? funny
The Mack: which i stole from mean girls
Sam: i got it from her.
The Mack: haha
Sam: so funny
The Mack: so great
Sam: we're single handedly bringing back the Mallrats dictionary.

So, I started thinking about things I'm mildly obsessed with outside of top 40 songs that Hot 99.5 might be overplaying and the word "totally."

Here's a list of things that, currently, I'm mildly obsessed with (and I use mildly, because I get bored so easily nothing sticks as an obsession for too long. In fact, after I write this, I'll probably be over a couple of these things already.):

-Reba McEntire, whether she's singing or acting. She looks like the child of Midge and a troll doll. I think it's awesome.

-Stinky Fingers' Carolina Sweet barbecue sauce now available in grocery stores. So delicious.

-My Life on the D List. This season has been hilarious. Kathy went out with Nick Carter for publicity and turned him down for a goodnight kiss.

-Original Red Bull. I know, I know.

-Calvin Klein's Perfect Fit swimwear that comes in bra sized tops. Brilliant! I went bikini shopping yesterday and wound up with 3 suits because I can't make freakin' decisions myself. Vive helped me choose and the CK one got a unanimous "yes!" I know this might not seem like a problem to many people, but just imagine having to normally buy an XL top and have it fitted because you're a size small in actuality, just not on top. It's insane. Coco Reef, Shoshanna, and CK are my heroes.

-The following foods: Bacos, Bush's Vegetarian Baked Beans, avocados, 97% fat free Hebrew National hot dogs, Boca Vegan burgers, Fiber One Honey Clusters, pretzels, pecans, Diet Pepsi, asparagus, grilled tomatoes, Chef Boyardee ravioli,

-gChat during the days (especially the status section where I pick quotes from Brainy Quote), Facebook and MySpace (I like the applications on Facebook like SuperPoke!, Top Friends, and Graffiti walls. Peter's not so happy about it. Here's his gchat comment of the day: why is facebook trying to be myspace. if they start allowing people to customize the backgrounds of their profile pages, i'm quitting the site. the one thing i liked about facebook over myspace was that loading someone's profile didn't cause me epileptic seizures.), Picassa for quick upload web albums, and pretty much email and the computer in general.

- Urban Decay makeup. Especially the product names that top OPI polish names. Namely- Big Fatty mascara and Crash, Baked, Last Call, and Strip eyeshadow. A huge blast of smoke hit my face last night, as usual when I'm barbecuing. I went to the bathroom to take off my eye makeup since I'd forgotten to do so before I was cooking. Not a smudge insight. Even Vive was impressed! Oh an District Belle has started using Big Fatty mascara too.

Okay, and I'll stop there for now. There's more, I'm sure, but you should probably be getting back to work or something.

Hunting and Galaing-

2007-06-18T13:58:00.000Z

I spent yesterday cleaning my bathroom, recovering from a vicious all-you-can-drink Ketel One martini bar, and watching Stick It. I feel so proud.

Haley Graham: Stop being so nasty, Joanne.
Joanne: It's not called gym-nice-stics.

Okay, so I'm a loser, baby, so why don't you kill me.

Backtracking to Friday evening. I met KK, Franky, the Mack, and company at the Big Hunt to help celebrate KK's birthday. They'd all been to dinner at Levante's first, so it was a little irritating to be the only person even remotely sober in the group (I was saving up for Saturday night's gala). Brando and his crew of visiting friends arrived at midnight to sit on the roof deck and get drinks. I was happy to have everyone gathering in one location completely coincidentally. At around 1am, I offered the Mack and Franky and ride home since, and I quote myself here, "There will be very few times that I'm sober, and you're drunk. Let me offer you a ride if I can."

Saturday, District Belle and I hit Nail Avenue in Van Ness for mani/ pedis and then brunch at Cafe Deluxe. It took me until my technician showed me the $36 price tag to remember what it was that made me like this random salon Jenny'd taken me to about three months ago. Ah, it's ridiculously cheap. I'd forgotten.

Pitch and I got all dolled up in black tie (even though the invite said black tie optional which technically means anyone under 35 doesn't have to wear a tux or gown, but, of course, everyone wore tuxes anyways. I adhered to the optional part and went cocktail length with my dress.) He picked me up at 6:15pm, and we headed down to the Andrew Mellon Auditorium for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society's Man of the Year Awards Gala.

A red carpet welcomed us into the historic and elegantly designed auditorium. We noshed on meat heavy appetizers, which I thought were a strange choice considering so many do-gooders are vegetarians or vegans. But, I was content with my chicken salad wrapped in dough and tied with a piece of basil.

The silent auction items were provided by the 12 candidates and included everything from VIP tents at polo matches to original paintings of lillies. A Ketel One, all ice, martini bar offered delicious drink options that proved deadly for my sobriety that evening. We sat down at our tables and enjoyed waiters refilling our wine glasses, caprese salad, steak main dish, and strawberry shortcake dessert.

Noah, our candidate, came in second for Man of the Year. In two months, he raised $60,000 completely through a grassroots campaign. In total, the candidates raised about $859,000 in 2 months. That's amazing considering this email from Noah last week:

More importantly, the money we raise goes to help people like my grandfather, who passed away from multiple myeloma, and my friend, Kerry, who is fighting non-Hodgkin's lymphoma.

$1000 Provides one week's salary for a medical researcher at NIH, Johns Hopkins or GW who may discover key information for developing curative treatments for blood cancers.

$500 Provides a patient with leukemia, lymphoma or myeloma financial aid to support medical treatment and travel to medical appointments for one year.

$200 Provides funding for a Family Support Group Program for one year where comfort can be found and experiences can be shared among patients and family members mediated by a trained facilitator.

$100 Helps supply laboratory researchers with supplies and materials critical to carrying out their search for cures.

$50 Covers the cost of one CT scan.

$25 Covers the cost of one prescription co-payment.

Thanks again! I can't do this without you!

-Noah
After the gala, we drove down to Brando's roommate's going away party in Ballston where we met up with District Belle and Sassy. I could only stick around for an hour before I was ready to pass out. I made it home by 2am and fell right asleep. What a fun night!

Now, I'm in detox for the week... or the rest of the morning.... okay, okay... for the next hour.

Tid Bits

2007-06-15T14:08:00.000Z

18th Street Lounge rooftop-

I'm a fan. Vive planned a happy hour there yesterday. I'd never been to the outside part. Drinks were hideously overpriced ($9 each for Stoli raz and sprite), but the funky decor and attractive clientele almost made up for it. Apparently the bartender on the deck (who looked pissed off when anyone ordered anything, which I don't get. Isn't that his job?) was requiring a $25 minimum on credit card tabs, but the bartender inside on the 1st floor was only requiring a $10 minimum. That was strange.

Metro Ride-

I don't usually take the metro in the mornings, but I did take it back from Ballston this morning (and, yes, I'm being vague on purpose here). I was leaving from the Virginia Square stop. So, I get down to the train and in the doors just as an announcement tells us that the train has been stopped for a while and another train is coming on the opposite platform (the side going to Vienna). Everyone files out of the train and up the escalator to the other side just as a train is closing it's doors (ie, like 10 people got on the train). So, we're standing on the Vienna side, confused, and an announcement tells us the train on the original side is now leaving. We all file up the escalator and down to the other side just as the doors are closing on that train to (ie barely 10 people got on the train). Then, we all stand, waiting, for 6 minutes until another train comes along.

Did I mention how happy I am that I commute by foot?

While waiting, a weird looking man approached me and asked if I worked at a specific company.

Me: Nope. Sorry. Do I look like someone who does?
Weirdo: No.
Me: Okay.
Weirdo: Do you work for Senator Brown's office?
Me: Nope. Sorry again. What state is that?
Weirdo: Ohio.
Me: Oh. Are you from Ohio?
Weirdo: No.

And then he walked away. It was bizarre.

Only capped by the chick next to me standing on the metro who was reading The Majesty's Dragon while moving her lips along and with a pointer. She kept toppling over when the train stopped, because she couldn't read, use the pointer, and hold onto a poll.

I remember once pointing out that Manhattan had 20 times more crazy people than anywhere else I'd lived. Jerk then commented, "It's just that there's only 10 miles of island for them to occupy thus they're more concentrated and appear larger in number."

What's DCs excuse?

Gala Time-

The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society's Man of the Year Campaign is almost complete. Tomorrow night's the gala. Pitch is coming as my date. We're wearing black tie ensembles. I'm excited for the photos.

Do the Do.

2007-06-14T15:54:00.001Z

I used to joke growing up that I had one aspiration- to be Vogue's "It Girl." Then, at Conde, I joked that I had revised my aspiration to be on the NY Post's Page Six for a good reason. Now, I've been in DC for a while, and I have revised my aspiration again to be more worldly, if you will. I'd like to someday be in Wikipedia for a good reason (no sexual scandal or death by Congressman).

Okay, so, since I've yet to discover a cure for Cancer or peace plan for the Middle East, I'll revise again. I'd like to get spotted as a Do in Glamour's new online Dos and Don'tspotter. Possible, right? Besides which, I'm mildly obsessed with rating other peoples hideous snapshots of visible panty lines, tees that say things, and American Flag apparel. Go play here.

Jazz and Cell Phones and Sliding Roofs

2007-06-11T13:43:00.000Z

What an interesting weekend.

Thursday was June's Jazz on Jackson Place at the Decatur House. Pitch forwarded the Evite on to a few hundred dozen of his closest DC friends, so the crowd was more diverse than in previous months. It also was evident that JOJP is catching on and is become less of a hidden gem in DC. They've upped the catered nibblets to include fancier cheeses and sushi or chocolate covered strawberries, and they've put more tables throughout the whole courtyard. The days of knowing everyone under 35 was a friend of mine or Suave's is rapidly diminishing.

Sigh.

After Jazz, a couple of us headed to Cafe Citron for some mojitoville time. There, we were, as usual, accosted by short foreign dudes and 21-year-old WASPs. Why does this always seems to be the crowd at Cafe Citron? In the car with JB on the way back to my apartment, I was ecstatic to sing along to The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia on WMZQ.

Friday evening I met PC at Oyamel in Chinatown for fancy tacos, guacamole, and drinks before heading to the Woolly Mammoth Theater Company's production of Dead Man's Cell Phone. Read PC's overview of the marketing campaign here. The play was highly entertaining and incredibly funny. The premise is that a shy girl finds the cell phone of a dead man and ends up comforting his loved ones. The twists in the plot though definitely leave you wondering if someone slipped pot into your dinner, into their dinner, or into the metro air system.

Oh, and the lead character is played by Polly Noonan who was the girl in Ferris Bueller's Day Off
in the last scene on the bus who offers Mr. Rooney gummy bears from her pocket. She's still as cartoonish in speaking voice and expression, and it works extraordinarily well for the production. After the show, we were able to ask the playwright questions. It was interesting to see how similar she and Polly Noonan seemed.

After the show, a reception was held with truffles, wine, and board members (this was the sponsors showing night). We drank more, talked shop, and then headed to Buffalo Billiards for more alcohol. I'm wondering how badly my life would suck if I stopped drinking. Damn good thing I've got no genetic addictions to alcohol in my blood line.

Jenny, Sassy, and I met on the roof of Tabaq on Saturday evening. We drank ridiculously expensive drinks while trying to tune out ridiculously pretentious and/or foreign conversations around us. We got adequately buzzed and walked over to Buzz Kill 16 (my new name for Local 16). Seriously, every time I go to Local 16, I lose my buzz. I- wait in line at the door, wait in line to get upstairs, wait in line to get a tiny expensive drink from a pompous bartender, wait in line for the bathroom, wait in line to get back on the patio, wait in line to get inside once the patio is closed, and pretend to be drunk enough to want to talk to fake-ID carrying B&T boy so I can scootch ahead of him down the stairs to leave.

Text from Pitch: "Come dance upstairs."
Text to Pitch: "Sassy and I are in cab to Big Hunt to meet Brando."

The rooftop at the Big Hunt, despite a couple tattooed and faux-hawked dudes, had tables, chairs, and a much more pleasant atmosphere.

I stayed there until around 2am and then headed home for bed. I didn't get out of bed until roughly 2pm yesterday. Though, Brando recently got me hooked on Top Chef and technically I was watching Marcel be an ass from 10am on. But, it was in my sweatpants tucked under my toile comforter, so, let's say I was a lazy bum regardless.

Last night I tossed some hickory chips and charcoal on my barbecue and over cooked some chicken that I intend to eat all week. Mmmm. Now I'm hungry already.

Way to kick start the week for sure. Hope you had a nice weekend and didn't end up with any dead person's cleaning up or anything.

For the Record-

2007-06-07T14:50:00.000Z

This came in my email this morning:

From Fishs Eddy.

Explain to me again why our dressing like Indians was deemed racist? Someone compared it to how I'd feel if a team dressed like Orthodox Jews. It's perpetuating a stereotype, but it's not racist. I wouldn't be overly upset. Now, if they dressed like Nazi's, that's a whole other story. Prince Harry much? But, if a Caucasian man dresses like a rapper for Halloween, is he racist toward African Americans? My opinion: it's not politically correct, but I still don't understand how it's racist. Anyone want to field this?

Anyways, just thought I'd share.

To Know or Not

2007-06-06T18:30:00.000Z

A beautiful 25-year-old girl I know in New Jersey was diagnosed with uterine cancer last year. She is now in remission, but she was told by her doctor that she will not be able to give birth. On the phone, she strained to say, "I almost wish I didn't know this. I’d rather have hope. I’d rather think that I could get pregnant still."

That's the age old question: If someone could tell you the date, time, and place of your death, would you want to know?

I don't really want to get into why I'm thinking about this, but I do want to highlight the debate. Would you rather know that something bad was coming? Even if you couldn't tell anyone you knew? The plus to having knowledge in advance is that you have time to gradually form a reaction. The minus, of course, is that you end up in a Chinese torture of harboring anxiety of the impending doom.

The last 3 days, I’ve found myself chanting Episcopalian private school teachings I’d thought I’d forgotten: “G-d will never give you more than you can handle in one day.”

I am currently in the process of forming 12 reactions to a troubling event that is soon to take place. I don’t know when it will come. I don’t know how it will come. But, let’s just say, I’m 100% sure it’s coming. And, I hate that I know ahead of time. However, I think it’s probably for the best that I do. I have to believe that fate had this knowledge in my cards.

Then again, I probably offset the balance by making a wish for love on every yellow light and with every penny I toss in a fountain (I know and, yes, feel free to gag) . You can’t have everything, and, truth be told, I’m happier with having what I recently got than keeping stability. This is all in code. I’ll try to work up the courage to explain more another time.

Fushia Lipstick Should Be Illegal

2007-06-05T15:18:00.000Z

I used to blame QVC, The Home Shopping Network, and Kmart for making most American women fashion victims. Playing on eBay the other day in search of a costume for District Belle and Sassy's Saved By the Bell-themed party on the 30th, I saw one too many 100% cotton potato sacks with arm holes described as "Fashionable denim embroidered church dress. Perfect classic." I guess I can now safely blame eBay for making it impossible for someone like me to ever live in Boise, Idaho or Fargo, North Dakota. I mean, you've got Mary Kate and Ashley and Hilary Duff designing hip clothing for tweens across America, but Koos can't create anything for the size 14 housewife in Missouri? I'm confused.

Then again, I was playing around on the On Tap photo gallery website (I'm in a couple of the pics from the Cinco de Midtown Crawl), and saw these fushia lips. Hmmm, maybe DC isn't the place for me either?

Much A Do About Nothing

2007-06-04T14:54:00.000Z

I did nothing remarkable this weekend, and yet feel like the wind has been knocked out of me all the same.

I drove to Alexandria Friday after work to purchase charcoal brick, hickory chips, a new fire starter, basting brushes, meat, the ingredients for pasta salad, slaw, baked beans, etc. with the plan being that I'd hold a barbecue on Sunday evening for all of my friends. My list was 2 steno notebook pages long and took me about 4 hours to completely finish. So, I got home at 10pm and found myself laying in bed with a book by 10:15pm. Exciting stuff.

Saturday, I cleaned. Scrubbed, dusted, folded, bleached, polished the stainless still on the grill with this fab Goo Be Gone grill cleaner, hung, vacuumed, and then took the longest most relaxing shower ever. I'm a wild child these days.

At 6:30pm, Brando and I drove down to Dixie Bones in Woodbridge for some delicious barbecue. We even waiting the whole 15 minutes over the 30 minutes they promised for a table. My pulled chicken sandwich and potato salad and pecan pie put me into a little daze, so I was glad we skipped mini golfing and watched movies afterwards instead.

It rained Sunday. I was off to get lunch with Brando and then buy a tent so I could barbecue when the rain made my back wooden steps super slippery. Brando slid down them and popped his shoulder out of place and bumped his head. He walked in only to fall on the ground and lose consciousness briefly. I thought he was having a seizure and gonna choke on his tongue, so I pulled him back up and had him go sit on the couch where he almost lost consciousness again. I brought him some water and went to lift his arm up to stretch it only to dislocate his shoulder. Apparently this was the worst pain he's ever felt in all of his life.

Thank goodness for the shoulder pain, because I don't think I would have convinced him to go to the ER (even with my father and my primary care physician insisting he go) otherwise.

The ER took forever. All day. The Pea was nice enough to send out a message to my barbecue guests saying that the cookout was off, though, she later admitted it was weird to write without saying the truth about why it was off. I suppose it did look a bit strange to have my friend write a message on behalf of me saying the barbecue was off due to weather. Especially considering I'm totally always with my laptop.

The not-so-nice male admitting nurse (then again, would I want to be this guy ever) informed us at 2pm that we'd soon have a room in the ER, but to clear our schedules all day as GW is a teaching hospital and can take hours. I texted my mom: "Remind me not to have a heart attack or be shot in DC. I'll die before they see me."

Two bottles of real soda (I needed the sugar. Apologies to my teeth.), two personal pan pizzas from the cafeteria (which were remarkably good even though I could only get down one slice of mine. And, wow, that hospital has a Starbucks inside. So cool.), one cat scan, one entire showing of The Fugitive and Mission Impossible, one modified game of Go Fish using Creative Children's cards I bought in the gift store (Brando: "I can't believe you just modified the rules to Go Fish."), several walks to the farthest door of the ER to use my cell phone, and many grimaces at the 3 hours of hysterics by the woman on the other side of the curtain in Brando's room (she slipped and fell and sprained her ankle. I remarked later, "your fall was so much worse. Wait, is it wrong that I'm being competitive about this?") and it was 9pm.

Brando got a referral to an orthopedic surgeon, foam and Velcro sling (much more advance slings today) which he did not want me to sign (no fun), Percocet and super strong 800mg Ibuprofen, and an explanation for why he lost consciousness. I guess what happened is that he literally was knocked out (like in the movies or a boxing match). I'd never seen that before, so I thought it was a seizure. I suppose being a doctor's kid makes me think everything is more extreme than it is... oh well. Better safe than sorry.

I was so hungry I wanted Wendy's. Brando was too, thank heavens. I don't think a junior bacon cheeseburger has ever tasted so much like a Peter Luger steak before. It was the greatest thing I've ever eaten in my entire life. I got home and passed out immediately like the doctor had given me the Percocet.

So yeah, it was a much a do about nothing weekend.

Tid Bits

2007-06-01T16:22:00.000Z

At Russia House last night for a Team Cuttler event-

The Mack: You've spilled the majority of your drink on the ground you realize.
Me: Ooops. The thing is, the vodka in this is so good that I know it's actually in there, but I can't taste it one bit. I feel it though.

Other comments on the evening? Um, the electric violinist playing hip music was odd and rivet ting all at the same time.

It was Peter's birthday so we had a cake for him. I had 4 options for his cake- a Cars themed one, a Spiderman one, a dragonfly shaped one, or one with those weird little balloons all over it. I found one of those singing cards that sang "At the Car Wash," so his cake had a little race car with eyes on it. Then, I got random guys in the bar he didn't know to sign the card for him. The responses were hilarious- "I want to have your babies. -Jason." "Man, 27 is old! We've had great times man. Your bud, Bob." "You're awesome! Awesome! -Frank" Peter didn't think it was quite as funny, but I cracked myself up.

MF, the Mack, Brando and I left with PC (oh, just realized his initials are PC, too funny) to go to his apartment building's rooftop party and barbecue. We got really into riding in the back of PC's convertible and took like 20 pictures of ourselves with the wind in our hair.

We expected something makeshift, but instead found a live band and 3 barbecues with a perfect view of the Washington Monument. The Mack and MF were able to convince the band to play Kelly Clarkson's "Since You've Been Gone" while they sang along. After that climax to the evening, we had no other choice but to head home. Well, and because the martinis hit me pretty hard (luckily. Considering they were a million dollars each.)

gchat this morning:

Sam: OMG! Rock on!

The Decatur House will open a new exhibition June 8, 2007 on loan from the John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum entitled,Gifts from the World to the White House: Caroline Kennedy’s Doll Collection (1961-1963).

The exhibit displays over 70 dolls from 30 countries given to Caroline Kennedy between 1961 and 1963. Italy’s Prime Minister Amintore Fanfani, Côte d’Ivoire’s first President, Felix Houphouet-Boigny, India’s Indira Gandhi, Monaco’s Princess Grace, and France’s President and Madame de Gaulle, all presented dolls as state gifts, while others came from ordinary foreign citizens who were captivated by the youthful Kennedy Family.

Brando: that is so you.

Sam: I am so excited. Jackie O., dolls, antiques. It's like my version of porn.

Shakespeare for All on Wednesday Night.

Sorry, I'm behind on blogging lately. Shakespeare for All was awesome. Sassy got tickets for District Belle and I to Love's Labour Lost. We sat outside in the Carter Barron Amphitheater and watched the actors speak in Elizabethan tongues dressed in 1960s fashion (channeling the Beatles documented relationship with the Maharishi). Love's Labour Lost is definitely the type of Shakespeare play one should watch in an outdoor amphitheater. I think a drama would be hard to sit through. Incidentally, bug spray is a necessity. I was attacked alive even though I sprayed myself 700 times.

Cool Websites I was forwarded:

http://www.eccentricamerica.com/. I'm so all over the Roadkill Cook-Off in West Virginia September 29th.

http://www.driveintheater.com/. Unfortunately, the closest theater to DC is an hour and a half. Oh well, Annie Hall is July 16th at Screen on the Green. Woohoo!

Ciao. Have a fantastic weekend.

Polla Caliente!

2007-05-28T15:34:00.000Z

I'm currently using the free Internet provided by the Fort Lauderdale airport. I decided to save Ali's mom a trip and just come early with the girls who needed to catch 10am/ 11am flights back from our bachelorette weekend down here. Thank goodness for this service considering the airport is remarkably low on airport shops and restaurants.

So, where to begin on this weekend. I'm very tan, exhausted, and cell phone-less.

I arrived Thursday evening. Ali's flight was delayed out of NYC, so my extreme planning to get in the same time as her fell through and her mom had to make additional trips to and from the airport anyways.

Ali's mom gave us her gorgeous, newly redone, two bedroom/ two bath condo right on the ocean for the weekend (she has homes in Mystic, CT and Holyoke, MA too). Ali's sister lives just down the street in an adorable Spanish-style vista with her son and husband, so her mom was able to stay there for the weekend.

Friday, Ali's other bridesmaid Lisette and I bonded while sitting by the pool before the other girls arrived in the evening. We were all exhausted from long work weeks so we ended up just hitting Winn Dixie for some wine, I cooked us all tacos, and we watched Bridget Jones Diary and caught up.

More laying out all Saturday morning, of course, in preparation for the evening's bachelorette party festivities.

Let's put it this way: Ali's the first of our crazy college "girl group" to have a bachelorette party. AND it is sad for all of us that Ali's no longer single and wild.

Ali's mom and sister came over around 5pm with several bottles of Veuve Cliquot, penis-shaped pasta to cook, penis-covered paper plates, and, of course, a penis-shaped Boston Creme pie. We headed by party bus to the Hard Rock Casino for a drag queen/ half-naked male dancer show at Passions nightclub. The night ended with me losing my cell phone and Lisette passing out at Hooters while the rest of us consumed cheese fries and chicken fingers. From here, I'll just show pictures. You'll get the idea.

So, Krista (Ali's sister) has this adorable blond son named William who loves the ladies. After his bath a while ago, Krista popped on an old Rod Stewart tape. William and she danced around to Hot Legs. He liked the song so much that they started dancing to it after every bath. She plays Baby Einstein videos for him in the morning while she preps his breakfast. One day, she saw a Rod Stewart Live DVD and purchased that for him. He loved it! The only problem, he can't pronounce legs, so he instead requests "Hot Cock!" when he wants to watch the video. We have no idea where he got that from, but, it had to be the theme for the weekend most definitely. Thus, the penis-shaped cake had "Hot Cock" written on it. And, since Ali's a fluent Spanish speaker known for her past attractions to Diego's and Rodriguo's and Fabio's, we wrote "Polla Caliente! de Matthew (her fiance)" on the smaller other cake.

Here we are in Krista's courtyard all decked out and only 3 bottles into the champagne (2 more would follow before we even made it to the bar).

Ali wanted the tequila shot. I never ever do those things. The bartender was super hot and from Wisconsin. I was so drunk I kept asking him over and over again if he really liked cheddar. I remembered this all the next day, obviously.

The drag queen host would yell "Sex," and we'd all have to yell back "Oh Baby!" Clearly there were many bachelorette parties there too. We made a bunch of the brides-to-be pose together at one point for pictures. Lisette and Erica got competitive and announced, "Our bride is soooo much hotter than their's. We win hands-down." Then they realized one of the other bride's friends was next to them. Oops.

Ali swears she's never been on a pole before. We think she's bluffing. A shirt in the souvenir shop last night had a girl on a stripper pole and read "I support single moms." Hot.

The funniest part about the half-naked male dancers was that they were even remotely trying to pass off as straight. Pretty to look at, but, yeah, so fruity they'd fill up a Vegan for a week.

I lost my cell phone shortly afterwards. Blah.

Last night, exhausted, we hit Beach Place for restaurant on the water. Our live entertainment was from Alex Fox. I texted Brando on my cheap substitute phone until my insurance replacement comes in the mail: "Damn, I wish I had a camera phone. Musician at dinner looks like Michael Bolton, is playing the guitar like he's Aerosmith (tossing it in the air and such) to songs that sound like Kenny G." We got the waiter to have him come take a photo with our group. Then we went straight to bed.

I now know how to say three things in Spanish- Where's the bathroom?, I don't speak Spanish., and Hot Cock. Wanna come with me on a trip to Madrid soon?

Sorry-

2007-05-24T17:30:00.000Z

I've been slacking on my blogging.

Um, where'd I leave off? Date from Hell circa Monday night.

Long story short- okay, it wasn't the worst date I've ever had. But, it was strange. He kept explaining that I had to ask for another date or I had to suggest another drink. And, he was super full of himself to a point where I couldn't deal. Brando ended up getting out of bed in Virginia and coming to pick me up at the Georgetown waterfront. So my date, in a nutshell, was quite the heavylifter (getting me good and drunk for Brando) I guess.

Tuesday night was kickball. We played the best team in the league, Off in Public. We only lost by 3 points, so that was actually pretty impressive. Afterwards, District Belle joined the team at the bar for her first official exposure to kickball. I think she had a decent time. I was so exhausted.

Last night, I went to dinner at Clyde's in Chinatown and then rested up for my trip today. I'm off to Ft. Lauderdale in just a couple hours for Ali's bachelorette weekend. Drag queens, mechanical bulls, tanning, college friends, and hot shorts. Oh my!

I'll be a better blogger soon. I promise.

I Couldn't Hardly Wait

2007-05-21T13:31:00.000Z

Oh, what a weekend. Just when I thought life was becoming stagnant.

I met Sassy and District Belle at L'Enfant Plaza Hotel after work for some drinks before the Hirshhorn Museum's Afterhours event. I was highly disappointed to find that the Foggy Bottom Brewery in the hotel's lobby (one of the few options down near the Smithsonian to choose from) didn't have happy hour specials. That's got to be price gauging.

But, we found our way through 2 glasses of wine each and headed to the Hirshhorn.

We met up with Vive, Brando, AM, Franky, and others for drinks outside in the courtyard. There we spotted several interesting characters including Matthew Lesko in his infamous question mark suit, a man dressed like the Easter Bunny (see below), and a British guy I met at my cousin's wedding last weekend in NYC.

I, unfortunately, made the poor decision to not monitor my drinking and thus was entirely too drunk to deal with looking at the actual exhibition. I'm told it was entertaining though. After seeing just about everyone I could randomly ever imagine seeing, I decided to call it a night and rest up for Saturday's festivities (aka a gazillion parties).

The drinking kicked off at the Georgetown waterfront. Peter and company were saying goodbye to a friend who was moving to Philly. This involved much alcohol and the thought of food coming up only after the world was blurry. I hitched a ride with his crew to Nolan's for the mid-season kickball party. Open bar from 8pm-11pm, except it was only on rail drinks and beer... which does me zero good.

The Mack picked Brando and I up around 10:30pm and then we grabbed Franky and headed to Brando's friends party out in the Virginia burbs. Okay, not terribley impossible to get to (like right near the East Falls Church metro), but it's a damn good thing the party was fantastic or else the trip would have been a bitchfest for me.

Brando's friends rented this ridiculous house from some Ambassador and the wood-panelled sub zero fridge was really only the beginning. They'd managed to acquire a moon bounce for the evening, and had placed in the front lawn with tiki torches all around. We drank some alcohol punch in excess before taking to the jump. That was silly. Moon bounce + alcohol = sick.

The Mack: "Do you want me to find out what's in the punch?" Me: "Three weeks ago I drank hunch punch out of a trash bag-lined bin. I've lost all rights to ask what's in anything anymore."

We danced entirely too much to my iPod's random assortment of songs. Then, we took crazy funny pictures with the guests (it was a "Make Your Own Theme" party so the costumes were random beyond belief). Finally, we went to sit down outside for a bit and began talking to some Swedish guys.

Me: "So what are you doing in the states?" Swedes: "We just finished a year as Au Pairs. Now we are travelling." Me: "Wait, so you're, like, Mannies?" Swedes: "Huh? What is Manny?" Me: "Oh, male nannies." Swedes: "I don't know that term." The Mack: "I know how to say two things in Swedish- IKEA and meatball." Swedes: "Haha. Meatballs." The Mack: "I don't like that it takes forever to put together IKEA furniture." Franky: "Yeah, it's like squiggle goes with squiggle. What's that about?" Swedes: "You talk to fast. What are you saying?" The Mack: "We think you should make the directions for putting together furniture easier. And meatballs aren't that good either."

Later, Franky commented, "Basically, it's like me meeting someone and them saying, 'Yeah, you're pretty cool, but I had this falafel the other day that sucked. It's your fault entirely.'"

Yesterday I had jury duty and randomly saw pink vest guy. He remembered me, and we spent all day chatting and talking. He's my new BFF.

I have more to write, re: my date auction date that sucked last night, but I'm tired. Sorry kids.

What a Wonderful World

2007-05-18T14:57:00.000Z

New Year's Eve 2000. I was with Gene, John, Elise, Tom, etc. in Atlanta at the Phillips Arena bouncing around to Widespread Panic in concert. When midnight rolled around, the Dirty Dozen Band walked onto stage and accompanied Widespread in a perfect rendition of "What a Wonderful World."

And you know what having Gene in town has made me think, I definitely don't think to myself often, what a wonderful world.

Last night, we had our final New Member event for JLW at the Women in Military Service for America Memorial at Arlington Cemetery. The light rotunda was much less morbid than I thought it would be initially. I imagined having a celebration at the Holocaust Museum. It just seemed wrong.

Quote of the night: "We've done so many hours of community service. We're like our own army doing good out there, except with hundred of strands of pearls."

After the reception, I met Gene and his coworkers at JPaul's in Georgetown for drinks and headed home.

By the way- this morning:

Me: I need something funny to happen tonight. I'm low on blog material. Where's the drama?
Brando: I create funny situations
Me: Good. I need something.

So yeah, this is lacking, but I'm aware of it. I promise to have more to say after the weekend.

Ciao!

Piece of Clay

2007-05-17T14:17:00.000Z

Everybody wants somebody to be their own piece of clay. True everybody wants somebody to mold them, shape them own way.

I was not myself when I was with Jerk. I didn't go out every night and enjoy meeting people. I didn't dress funky or spunky or trendy or fun. I cooked dinner about 5 nights a week. I treated myself to fancy cheese not fancy shoes. I didn't go to a single concert.

After we broke up, I said to my mom, "I think Jerk was in love with the idea of what I could be, not me."

My question- Is Marvin Gaye right? Does everyone want someone to be their own piece of clay?

I redressed Jerk. At 26, when I met him, he still wore those Old Navy shirts with the Charlie Brown stripes down the center and light wash GAP tapered jeans. I slowly started to buy him shirts I liked. I settled on a bunch of Polos, mainly, because they were an easy transition being cotton and all. Then, around 6 months, I purchased him his first pair of designer denim. He got cashmere as gifts from me too. And, an outlet trip convinced him to trade in his parka for a pea coat.

When we broke up, I announced to my friend Tait, "Crap! Now I have to redress a whole new guy!" Tait, "Or, ya know, find a guy who can already dress himself."

Yeah, she's right. I'm far too exhausted at this point in my life to want to, as Adelaide sang in Guys and Dolls, "Marry the man today and change his ways tomorrow."

Is it too picky to write someone off because, although you know you like them, you'd want to change them? And, along that line, what flaws are too big to be overlooked?

I always say: "There's always another guy and another party. Never feel the need to compromise yourself." Am I wrong? Clearly, I think I'm right. It is my opinion after all.

But, what is a deal breaker? If you don't like tuna salad, and the guy you date is on a diet that has him eating it twice a day, do you end it? Do you assume it's an omen of much differences?

I'm honestly asking here. I don't know. Should everyone want someone to be their own piece of clay?

Yawn

2007-05-16T15:00:00.000Z

"I have Social Disease. I have to go out every night. If I stay home one night I start spreading rumors to my dogs." - Andy Warhol

Ah kickball. Not that I have the energy to play. Or the passion to play. Or the interest in playing. I'm way more into the social aspect of kickball. Which is good, considering we're the worst team in the league.

The Mack to Pitch: "We're going for defeated team."

We had a super early game. It started at 6:30pm. We were short guys, but the other team took pity on us. I guess that's one perk to being the worst team. I had to play, or stand their, whichever you prefer.

After the game, we followed our opponents to Mille and Al's for $1 Jello shots. Slowly our team started to drop off. It ended up just being the Mack, myself, and one other teammate. After 2 Jello shots and a drink, we headed up to Adams Mill. Walking outside, I looked at the time- 8pm- and then realized I was already a little drunk. The Mack admitted she was too.

As Swell as Cynthia Rowley's stuff at Target.

Gene met us at Adams Mill. I went to order my Raspberry Stoli and Sprite and the bartender not only knew what I was getting but also treated me to my first drink. Um, I assume I'm the only person drinking a $6.50 drink after kickball. Oh well.

I paid $10 for a superlative for the Mack, KK, and I. "Most Popular." It seemed like a great idea at the time. The money goes to charity, so that's at least a consolation for my egoism.

The Adams Mill bouncer kept driving us all nuts announcing that there were too many people on the porch. It was enough to give a girl anxiety. We'd get up to go inside, and he'd then say, "No no. You can stay." All that moving up and down was not such a good idea drunk.

The night was random with quotes and awkward moments. Enough to make a girl sort through everything the next day.

20oz Mountain Dew is being finished as I type.

Hawkeye

2007-05-15T13:58:00.000Z

Gene's in town this week for work. I've not seen him since April 2006. It's been too long.

Last night, I met him at the airport, and we went over to the Hill to meet Sassy, Pitch, and District Belle for dinner and drinks at the Hawk and Dove.

It was half-priced burger and chicken sandwich night.

'Twas fun to catch up and recall stories from my youth.

Pitch: "Gene, if you're in town, I'll hook you up on a blind date." Me: "Well who is it?" Pitch: "Just someone. Cute though. You know her." Me: "If you tell me who it is, I could tell you if Gene would like her. I know his type." Gene: "That you do."

Sassy: "Wait, so here's the question, if all of your friends didn't like the guy or girl you were dating, would you still continue to date them?" Me: "Well, I didn't much like this girl Gene dated from my high school a couple years ago." Gene: "Oh yeah! She sucked." Me: "But, then again, if Gene wasn't supposed to date anyone I didn't like in high school, he'd have no one to date. I pretty much only liked Elise and Melissa." Gene: "True true."

Ah, memories.

Bourbon?

2007-05-11T20:02:00.000Z

It is not a good idea to order drinks from your friends guest bartending. I was effectively buzzed from three sips of the blueberry stoli and sprite the Mack made me. That was my first drink. I have absolutely no idea how many more I consumed. Counting the 4 shots I bought us at 10pm on a Thursday (I have no idea what I’m thinking sometimes), my tab was around $50.

Not that I’m complaining. The night was crazy fun.

I arrived at Bourbon around 7pm for Team Cuttler’s Guest Bartending event. The Mack, Jer, AM, and others were slated to bartend (along with a knowledgeable mixologist). They were donating their tips to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. The Master created tip hats for each bartender with funny pictures of them taped on. Whoever got the most tips won 2 free tickets to the Team Cuttler Oasis Winery Yacht Cruise next Saturday.

The Mack was manning the bar upon my arrival and proceeded to get me good and drunk from one pint glass full of vodka and a splash of sprite. I waited through the next guest bartender set, because I was feeling bad about my acquaintances bartending and me only giving tips to my friends. JM poured me my next cup full of vodka. District Belle and I pulled out the cameras and props for a series of Facebook-worthy photos. MF created the next one I had. She’s created adorable drink specials like the Washingtonienne which had grenadine in it (pop my cherry style).

Afterwards, we probably should have called it a night, but I was drunk and feeling social. So, the Mack, Brando, myself, MF, and others headed over to Mille and Al’s for a couple Jell-O shots (can they please just ban orange and green Jell-O? I mean, who honestly likes those flavors. Blech!). Everyone was heading to Peyote Café but luckily my eyes were starting to shut.

I woke up this morning hungover to pack in a frenzy and head on a train to NYC for my cousin’s wedding. My Mom is so dragging me to the Chanel counter for something to cure these abominable black circles under my eyes… which were of course not caused in the least by the fact that I went to bed at 2:30am.. Not at all.

Mmmm. Now to finish part 2 of my bacon, egg, and cheese.

I'm a bad blogger-

2007-05-10T19:22:00.000Z

I just don't even know where to begin. Life's a whirlwind of drama, excitement, suspense, etc. etc.

My horoscope from yesterday:

Who cares what other people think? Well, to be honest -- you do. But at times like these, the stars point out that others' opinions don't matter. So acknowledge that you care, and then do what you have to do nonetheless.

The stars aren't blind after all.

Tuesday night was a mess of fun and nonsense. Sum up the night, me to the Mack: "Um, do you think I'm capable of playing anyone? Goodness! I'm too much of a mess to premeditate messing with anyone's emotions. And, I'm a terrible actress."

Yesterday's breakfast and lunch was Red Bull. The 20oz can. Dinner was canned ravioli with a glass of white wine. I went to bed at 2am on Tuesday. Pitch and the Mack were passed out on my pullout couch.

Um yeah.

So, I apologize for not writing yesterday and not being deep and insightful today. I'll leave you with my take on America's Next Top Model. I actually got to watch it last night! I'm for Renee even if she is a bitch and talks funny (dude, where is from?). I think Natasha, the mail order bride, is strange. Renee's quote last night cracked me up: "She's one fry short of a Happy Meal." And, Jaslene looks like she's on crystal meth in person.

Ciao! Tomorrow, I'm off to Manhattan to meet the folks and cousins for my cousin's wedding. Vavoom.

Sign, sealed, delivered. I'm yours.

2007-05-08T15:03:00.000Z

I believe in fate.

I think that, if you stop believing that everything happens for a reason, you'll have no reason to look beyond the bad.

So, even though sometimes I stop having faith in kismet, I always come back to hoping for a life on some sort of track.

A friend's been dating a 26-year old guy who hasn't had a relationship since high school. 9 years without a girlfriend. She was worried that he only found her, because he was ready for a relationship (ie- red lighted). It was a fleeting worry, to be honest, seeing as I think she realizes he and she are very good together.

But, I got to analyzing the worry. Come on, you know by now, that's what I do best.

Here's the thing- the girl a red lighted guy finds to settle down with has to be red lighted too! Isn't it kismet to find yourself with someone looking for what you're looking for at the very same point in time? I mean, in her case, she was drunk on Christmas Eve and suddenly more confident than ever before. She walked right on up to him and started to chat. For a healthy and successful relationship to develop from that interaction, fate MUST be in the planning.

At dinner last night, I stated: "Can you just take a glimpse at who I have been attracted to these last couple months? Do you think I'm looking for marriage? If I was looking to move to the suburbs and garden on Saturday evening, I'd be attracted to a different type of guy! And, if you were looking to walk down an aisle tomorrow, you too would be actively finding someone else. You and he were both looking to be in a monogamous relationship with a potential future but no current rush. You found each other at the same point in time you were looking for the same thing. That, dear, is fate."

Don't you think?

"Listening to my iPod is like reading my journal." And, other observations from the weekend.

2007-05-07T14:11:00.000Z

JB on the metro heading back to Adams Morgan Saturday night: "I'm sorry, I wasn't listening to what you said. I still can't get over Jenny licking the polar bear's butt."

Me to AL at Chipotle Friday night: "Okay, I'm showing cleavage and not wearing a bra. If we go to Porter's and dance, you're totally on nipple patrol."

Ralph sending an email to my friends and father about the song he recorded for me to use on Ali's bachelorette video: "Ali wants a guy to call her own! Yeah, bitches."

So, let me begin.

I woke up with a headache Friday morning that didn't seem to want to go away. KK had free tickets to the Cinco de Midtown bar crawl which began at 5pm. I decided to suck it up and go meet the Mack and company for $3 margaritas at Rumor's. We drank there and bumped into a nice random assortment of people including the ex-question mark Jackass, who I ignored completely. At about 10:30pm, I was planning to meet the Lost Boys at Froggy Bottom, but called it a night and came home. A wise decision considering I was set to meet CE in Virginia at 11:15am for an apartment crawl.

CE's roommate's boyfriend had organized the 1st Annual Orange You Drunk Yet? Ballston-Rosslyn apartment crawl for their friends on Saturday. Each apartment had the alcohol, beer, and food of a country. We walked from apartment to apartment beginning in Ballston and making our way back up the orange line, basically. I stopped after Ireland and headed home. It was cold, and I had much more drinking to do.

At 6:30pm, I met Sassy and Jenny at Grand Central in Adams Morgan for bloody mary's. The game plan for the evening was to go wherever the night took us. JB called around 7pm and wanted to do "something Cinco de Mayo-ish." They chose Tortilla Coast in Southeast. So, we cabbed it to them and proceeded to drink $3.50 frozen margaritas until we were taking silly pictures and ready to dance.

Of course, the thing about JB and company is they bring out the worst in me. These boys are infectious (Not sure what other word to use to describe them). They're silly and wild and slightly homoerotic... no, really, like I have pictures of them feeding each other.

JB stole my iPod, and we each put in a headphone and danced on the metro. It was freaky, like, goth-kids-were-whispering-about-us-being-freaks freaky.

Having someone listen to your iPod is comparable to having someone read your journal. When JB burst out singing Spice Girls, I about hid behind a tree.

Jenny, "the fact that he's enjoying your crazy music mix so much is like having someone jerk off on the pages of your diary."

Pretty much.

We metroed back to Adams Morgan to meet the Lost Boys at Dan's Cafe. Somehow or another, we ended up at Bourbon. I got bored, and, at about 2am, I finally found my way into bed.

Now the week has begun. Yawn.

Jazz on Jackson Place Returns

2007-05-04T15:37:00.000Z

Last night, we returned to Jazz on Jackson Place at the Decatur House. After several too many glasses of wine and tons of friends, I headed to Front Page with the Pitcher or Pitch (My stories about him are too bizarre. He needs a name). Email to our mutual friend when I got home last night should say it all...

Um, for the record, tonight was bizarre. I meet some guy at Front Page after I ditch everyone to go to front page (well, b/c Pitch was less weird, long story). There, I start talking to a Southern Canadian (like myself, so odd), and I give him my number [Pitch was talking to other people, by the way] Then Pitch invites him to Fado... um, so, along comes this guy with us.

On route to Fado, we have to stop by California Pizza Kitchen so Pitch can say hi to a bunch of nurses he knows. I have to use the restroom. CPK is closed and the doors are locked, but the two of us convince the guy cleaning to let us in. The Southern Canadian is sitting in Pitch's car with the hazzards on. Then, we get back in the car to go to Fado to meet some other people. I start to text you. He says, "who are you texting" and peaks over and calls you... at which point, I go into a monalogue about liking you and not saying anything to play the two of you against each other and blah blah blah... which apparently you heard.

We get to Fado with this guy I picked up at Front Page who I don't want to go home with that night, thus why I gave him number(I might add) and I dance all night with Pitch's friend Stephanie who I met after A Night of Mystique when Pitch was administering a breatharlizer on her. He just keeps one in his car for no reason. Oh, and she tells me last night that it's an honor we got to blow on it. Hmmm. Then he invites, I guess, the girl he's interested in to the bar and Stephanie and her friend start discussing whether the girl "of the week" is cute or not. This is the point I leave and book it to a cab.

So yeah, that was the night. Comments=)

On gchat with that friend today:

Sam: late nights out with Pitch are strange. I always wake up thinking "What happened last night? Why do I feel like I'm living in My So Called Life?"

#1 There's always 20 girls around who are his "best friends," but they want him
and ask you like 30 times who you are and how you know him
#2 He spends the night texting anything you say out of context to mutual people you know in common
#3 It's funny while it's happening, but the next day it's sort of like sleeping with someone with crabs... like, was it really worth it.

Poor Taste

2007-05-03T14:47:00.000Z

Um, how come I'm the only one who thinks this is in poor taste? It's enough to make a girl buy Emily Post books for everyone.

My ex is dating my close friend's roommate, as you know. My close friend and I are co-organizing a group to go to Jazz on Jackson tonight. I've been avoiding her roommate like a clogged artery avoids steak. This is mainly because I know my own limits. I am not cool with hanging out with this person. It's nothing against her. I just hate being reminded of APK. Simple.

Does anyone else think it's in poor taste for her to be coming tonight? To an event I'm co-organizing? I mean, who wants to be in a situation where someone is clearly going to ignore you and avoid you?

Poor taste.

Team Cuttler Guys Don't Stop After One Position

2007-05-02T17:07:00.000Z

We made signs last night to haze Girls on Top, especially their pitcher and our friend.
Signs included: "Cuttler Girls like their Guys on Top." "[The pitcher] knows much about striking out!", "[The pitcher] says: now that she's on top, I should learn to pitch!" and many more.

As I was getting up to kick, I looked at the Mack and the Master, "so you realize I'm like a guaranteed out, right?" My pitcher friend pitched me a really easy pitch, which I proceeded to kick not so well directly to my other friend on third base who has a sore arm and tossed it to first to get me out. Yeah. I suck at kickball. At least I show leg.

I went to Arlington to buy us all soccer socks on Monday evening. I was wearing short soffee shorts for the first time since college, and the socks made me look like I was channeling Suzanne Somers in Three's Company. In our newly purchased soccer socks (white with blue stripes), we figured, if we can't win, let's be obnoxious.

As far as being obnoxious, there wasn't much we could do to annoy Girls on Top. Reportedly, last week, some guy on E=MC Hammered (the orange team) called a girl on their team an ugly ho.

At Adams Mill after the game, the Mack took defending the girl into her own hands (we were told to hate that team). In her own words- "I punched some guy on the orange team in the stomach hard. 4 oranges were in a circle talking to KK. I walked up, and one dude goes to me, out of the blue, 'what sign are you.' I walk up to him and go 'Sagittarius. I'm also a\nred-head.' Then I punched him. 'We are feisty.' And then I walked away. The rest of the night all the guys in orange shirts were holding their balls when I walked by. "

We didn't have enough teammates to handle an official match of flip cup, and I was seriously against the idea of playing. Unsanitary and I don't drink beer. Good reasons, no? We drank entirely too much, and I walked to the metro with my friend from GOT.

In other news, some quotes from the night enjoyed.

HK, looking at the orange and brown teams playing on the field across from ours: "It looks like shit is playing on that side."

The Master putting me in left field: "I'm putting NC there too. Not that I don't think you'll catch the ball. But, just so that, ya know, he can catch the ball."

I don't believe in all being fair in love and war.

2007-05-01T14:18:00.000Z

And, nothing anyone could say could convince me otherwise. So, your Great Grandma was saved by someone when she was 12 and almost drowned. They fell in love until he was sent off to war at 18. While he was away, she met someone else, and they married. When her great love returned from war, it turned out he was cousins with the man she married. She had to ditch the guy and be with her great love, right?

No. I don't believe she did.

In my opinion, people who believe that all is fair in love and war will end up alone and miserable. It means you're willing to screw over people to get what you think you deserve. Perhaps the fact that she still loved this man was a sign that she shouldn't be married to him or his cousin. The end. Move on Granny!

Furthermore, I do believe believing in fate and friendship requires us to write certain romantic interests off. If you're meant to be, you will be. Not that people are off limits just because they dated someone you are friends with (though, clearly, some people are. If my best friend started dating Jerk, I'd burn down something for sure). You just have to make sure they're 100% okay with it. The end. But, friendship is a reason to write someone off in my opinion. That's what friendship is- support, integrity, compassion.

Okay, that's my piece for today. I has some help elaborating on this point last night. Felt like sharing.

I went to bed Friday night and awoke Saturday evening at Delta Chi circa 1999.

2007-04-29T22:16:00.000Z

Oh what a night! Late April back in 2007...

Saturday night was insane. Absolutely insane.

I met Franky and CE at the Metro Center stop to cab over to JB's popped-collar and tennis skirt party in NE Capitol Hill. We brought with us a bottle of raspberry vodka which went perfectly down the ice luge. JB held a funnel from the second floor window for people outside on the porch to drink a beer. Hunch Punch was served out of a large plastic tub lined with a black garbage bag. And, basically, we got drunk in just under an hour.

We got a cab fairly easily on H & 12th NE, which I was worried about severely. Apparently though, there is a shuttle provided by several of the new bars called the Atlas Shuttle which runs from 10:30pm until 2:30am from H St. to Union Station for free. I was dreading the long commute to EP's Mardi Debauchery Party on 8th Street SE if there were no cabs, but, after considering the options, I was willing to take the commute over skipping the ice luge to drive my car around DC.

We got to EP's around 11:15pm and were met at the door with mounds of beads and District Belle. Then Peter, Ralph, Taffy, and others met us for some dancing and beer. The rest of the night was a bit of a blur but involved a pinata breaking while I was in the bathroom and a disagreement arising from whether or not we should leave Bon Jovi playing on the radio. Of course, there were also pictures of us doing silly and seductive things with the beads. What else!

And then we left around 2:30am and cabbed home where I spent the whole night and almost all of yesterday laughing at pictures I took and making comments on friends' MySpace and Facebook profiles about our non-stop fraternity rush party tour of DC. Woohoo. Rigmas Together Forever!

I have one thing to say- sashe Shante.

Ugh-

2007-04-28T14:38:00.000Z

Trying to be responsible in DC while partying is frustrating as Hell.

Two of my parties tonight are in NE and SE. You'd think there'd be a simpler way to go to either. Um, not so much. Apparently, there's a high chance we could be stranded in NE if we don't drive. I want to drink. This is freakin' irritating.

What to do about "The Spot?"

2007-04-27T14:15:00.000Z

The age gap continues. I am so not 21 anymore.

If you'll recall, my next door neighbors are in college and like to party. Unfortunately, the police are too busy most nights to deal with a noise complaint (thank heavens, honestly). The main problem remains that they don't actually give citations for noise complaints. Thus, breaking up the party is hard to do.

More problematic for the 4 mid-20s professional girls who live in the two apartments in my townhouse, we have no way to control the situation. I love my apartment, but this is getting to a point where I might have to move. My landlord is considering suing the owners who moved out of the country, had these kids sign a two year lease, and have not responded to my landlords complaints about them.

What is a property owner supposed to do in DC to ensure that their purchase is secure? It seems like DC isn't particularly concerned with monitoring this type of behavior. One would think that a purchase in Virginia might be more worthwhile. Taxes are lower anyways.

Here's the most recent update in email form:

I received your message from some colleagues of mine here at GW about some recent disturbances that have been taking place. Naturally, I wish we were hearing from you under other circumstances, but hopefully we can address your concerns to the best of our ability. At your convenience, I was hoping to be able to speak with you so that I can get a better understanding of the nature of the problems at hand,frequency, details, etc. I can be reached at...

I will look forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely,
Director, Office of Off-Campus Student Affairs
Director, Center for Alcohol & other Drug Education
The George Washington University

From my landlord back:

When we last spoke in mid-February you were planning to speak to my neighbors about their loud late-night activities. Did this meeting take place? I've recently learned from my tenants that, although things are calmer on the weekdays, they are still loud late into the night on weekends. It seems that every other weekend, they are hosting parties that only quiet down with police intervention. Perhaps you could have another word with them? There were four students living there last year. Two moved out for Junior year abroad. The current residents are...

Thank you. This will be very helpful.

From GW Director back:

Thank you very much for your email. While I cannot give you specifics about any student or any student meetings due to federal student privacy laws, you can rest assured that we follow our protocol which is that if we receive reports through our Community Concern Policy, we follow-up with every single student in some way, whether that be a judicial case or face to face warning meeting. If you would, I have a favor to ask. Please encourage anyone who has complaint about a specific property to contact the GW Community Concern Hotline at (202) 994-6110. It is essential for our follow-up purposes that we have a report to work from, and furthermore, local residents should also utilize the Metropolitan Police Department as we are able to work with them as well based on the reports they take and citations they write. Thank you for keeping me informed on the occurrences taking place. We will continue to address all situations that we receive reports on.

My landord back:

As it turns out, this situation is much worse than I had been led to believe. I am concerned that these students' behavior are going to jeopardize my ability to continue to place tenants in my apartments.

I will also advise my tenants to call your hotline in the future, but I trust that the details below will give you enough to work with. It is clear to me that the police have other priorities to deal with and cannot be expected to respond to every student nuisance complaint. I did file a"Special Attention Request" with the police about the location, but they made clear to me that they had more pressing issues to deal with.

Also,when my tenants have called the police with noise complaints, the police have consistently refused to file a police report or citation. Here are the notes that I received after letting my tenants know that I had contacted you again:

"Thanks. About three weeks ago, I had to go over there at 11:30 on a Monday night in my PJ's because I couldn't sleep and my wall is next to theirs. They did turn the music down (and stopped jumping down the stairs or whatever it is they were also doing). I forgot to tell you that."

and [my issues]

"Yeah, last week they woke me up 4 times. I yelled at them all 4 times.They didn't quiet down. The first was on a Tuesday. People were on the steps at 2am talking as loud as they possibly could. I came outside and yelled at them that it was a Tuesday and people pay high rent in the area,blah blah blah. I heard them laughing and then finally after about 30 minutes, they went inside. Then on Thursday, I was woken up at 3am b/c they were playing lacrosse in the streets. They apologized and quieted down enough for me to fall back asleep. On Friday night, they had a party. I called the police who couldn't come. Then, they all ended up on the stoops again. I came outside and told them that the police were on there way and they needed to be quiet. That we were calling GW. That we were hosting a charity even the next night at it was 1:30am. They didn't shut up. In fact,they got louder. Finally, at 2:00am I went back out and said "I don't even know what to do anymore. Can't you just go on the roof or to a bar?" They said they were going out to a Georgetown bar in the next couple minutes. It took them 30 minutes of loudness where I called the police several more times. Finally they left. It's getting to a point where I don't actually know that we can live in the apartment. It would definitely be worth looking into how to resolve the problem."

From my landlord to The Spot's landlords:

At this point, I believe that eviction is appropriate.

From my landlord to us:

Please note the hotline number provided by the GW official below. Please encourage anyone who has complaint about a specific property to contact the GW Community Concern Hotline at (202) 994-6110. Please also continue to call the police and send me an email. Documentation will help if I have to file a law suit. I am also engaging with a DC City Council representative.

From my upstairs neighbor to my landlord last night:

It's a little after 12, and I went over to ask the neighbors to lower their music and voices. They have a small, but very loud group of guests. I reminded them that this time of year, people leave their windows open at night. They said that'd close theirs. Just an update. Thanks again for all your help regarding this issue.

From my roommate to my landlord this morning:

Hi. I also called the GW community concern hotline last night about the noise per your recommendation. I left my name so they should have a record of it. However, I'll be honest, I wasn't particularly impressed by the person I spoke with - they seemed disorganized and didn't take the students' names though I tried to give them.

My friends totally bought me a man last night.

2007-04-26T13:47:00.000Z

Team Cuttler's Date Auction was last night at Play Lounge. As a thank you gift from the Pea, the Master, and Suave for A Night of Mystique, my friends decided to donate to the campaign. So, they purchased me a man.

The bachelors and bachelorettes wore pink and blue bandanas. The happy hour was like shopping. I loved it! I had chosen this bio in advance:

Yet another Seattleite, this brown-eyed boy is studying Bioterrorism at Georgetown University. (P.S. He already has an MBA under his belt at the ripe age of 24.) A former NCAA football player, this Item also enjoys skiing and the great outdoors. His other passion? Drinking a nice pint or two. Now he only needs someone to share it with.

The awkward part, of course, was that someone I dated before was also in the auction. But, all is well between us, and I'm glad we can be friends and have a good time together now.

So, wandering around the room before the auction, I talked to Bioterrorism guy plenty. His friend asked me if we were each other's backup plans. I was flattered to think he thought I must be in the auction, of course. The interesting part was, I probably would have been into the guy.

Me to BG: I like Bioterrorism.
BG: What? Why?
Me to BG: Oh, no, I don't like actual bioterrorism. OMG! The guy in the auction. That's who I was talking about.
Noah later commenting on the conversation: I like bioterrorism and second to that, I'm a fan of famine.

The bidding started around 8pm. The Pea and the Master held a bidding war (using the same money) for Bioterrorism guy to get things started. We won him and $50 to the Carlyle. I told him I hoped he didn't care if I took my friends instead. I'd never go to a fancy dinner on a first date anyways! I'm a Bama girl. I like things lower key.

JK went for $375, because she's super hot. AM was bidding on her and convinced Brian Egan, the announcer, to throw in tickets to Faith Hill and Tim McGraw if he went up to $350. He still lost. JK's too hot.

After the auction, I headed over to Cafe Citron with Bioterrorism guy, his friend, Peter's hot friend who was in the auction too, Kix, and others. We danced until around midnight when my friend showed up. I think Bioterrorism was thrown off a bit. I was dancing with Kix, then dancing with my friend, and, though interested in him, not about to go home with a guy my friends bought for me. Well not yet at least.

Though, the big question remains, if I do hook up with him, did my friends buy me sex? Because, well, that's just weird even if it was for the Leukemia & Lymphoma society.

Ah, the dilemnas.

Pictures below:

That's Bioterrorism guy up for bidding. How hot is he! I love my friends.

This picture is for Peter. He thinks LG is the hottest girl ever. I thought I'd give him something for his bedside table as a consolation prize for missing a fun night out!

Here we are at the auction after the bidding had stopped. Hot, right?

We couldn't hate them because they were beautiful.

2007-04-25T14:09:00.000Z

Though completely not into us.

Last night, Team Cuttler Plays the Field took on the pink team. The hottest guys in kickball hands down. Groomed, tan, and toned hotties. Completely gay. Damn the man.

I met the Master in Dupont and headed over to the field in shorts. Even in athletic shorts, I still look like a Soccer Mom. I'm just more the type to bring cupcakes and Kool-aid on I guess.

We lost by 1 point to the guys. I blame it on prohibitted alcohol in coffee cups (thanks to the Master on that one) and being blinded by the sun's glare bouncing off the thighs of the pink guys. Earlier, one of the changed into his tight black shorts right on the field. He was wearing pink briefs. I think we should have a "Men of the Pink Team WAKA Adams Morgan" calendar. That'd be hot.

We headed to the bar after a pit stop at Eye's for some freshening. The Mack and I proceeded to drink entirely too much and scout out the men. She settled on a guy with vintage Converse hightops. We now refer to him as hightop or Marty McFly, depending on if he's around or not. I decided the green team was fun, and spent the evening hanging with them until it was suddenly 1am and I was dining on french fries at Amsterdam Falafel. E-mail this morning to my friend on the green team:

From: Sam

Date: Apr 25, 2007 8:50 AM

Subject: Apologies, let the record show, I will be eating dinner before kickball from now on-To:

And, for no apparent reason, I was up at 6am and am now at work.

So, sorry for anything I said about 10:30pm onward. Don't hold it against me.

Response back:

Don't remember you saying anything that was too offensive...
You were a rock star last night! And not a lush!

So, I suppose that's a good thing.

I'm currently drinking a 20oz Red Bull. Work on Wednesday is so not a good thing during kickball season. Me to the Mack this morning: "Kickball is so scandalous! We must play again next year!"

I think pigs just took flight.

Tid Bits

2007-04-24T13:32:00.000Z

GChat with the Mack.

Her away message: 1 day away from April 25!!
Sam: What's April 25th?
The Mack: hahah... It is my favorite quote day from my fav movie..
Sam: Oh Miss Congeniality=) I remember the Date Auction Evite response.
The Mack: YES!!!!!!!!! Stan Fields: Miss Rhode Island, please describe your idea of a perfect date. Cheryl Fraiser (Mis. RI): That's a tough one. I would have to say April 25th. Because it's not too hot, not too cold, all you need is a light jacket.
The Mack: And since junior year of college, I email my friends each April 25 with that message. Oh, so one of my biggest accomplishments of the day yesterday-
was figuring out (on accident) how to bold a word on gChat
Sam: No way. How do you do it?
The Mack: haha. word- * word * no spaces.

Sam: Check this out. I can write in bold on gChat now!
Peter: Uh, wow?

My New Theory: Crazy girls do best in the dating game.

I have a new theory I'm currently developing, but I'm convinced that overly dependant girls who call guys and basically whip and suffocate them (not literally, of course) might very well have the most game. I mean, they completely risk being called psychos if it doesn't work out, but I can't even tell you how many of my guy friends appear to be taken by girls who pretty much stalk them. Not that I'd ever intend to copy this method. I just think it's rather fascinating.

I'm debating emailing Pillsbury re: Grands Biscuits.

The damn biscuits almost always burn on the bottom. I know it has nothing to do with how I'm preparing them either. I pop the can, put some aluminum foil down on a cookie sheet. Pre-heat the oven to 350 degrees. Put them in for the most minimal suggested cooking time of 13 minutes. And yet, always burnt on the bottom. Seriously? When I leave them in for less time, they come out doughy. I don't get it.

It's a Giant world after all.

Am I missing something? Did I suddenly enter The Truman Show and is everyone I meet just a reappearing cast member? (Come on, you know after you saw that movie, you started looking for cameras around you too.) So, I get a message from Franky that CE is doing a house share with the Giant and company this summer at Dewey totally randomly via a Craigslist add.

It's cool, #1 according to his MySpace page, the Giant is a taken man. #2 I genuinely like the guy and think he is fun to hang out with (since we were all already planning a weekend to spend at Dewey with CE so that I could get a firsthand account of this Spring Break party every weekend in Delaware). #3 It was bound to happen with the way my life seems to work these days.

Theme parties galore.

I haven't had a weekend where I didn't have a theme party of some sort in so long. Turns out my friend and his roomie's are hosting yet another one this coming weekend- guys in Polo shirts, girls in tennis skirts. Evite reads:

Details:

1) First, as you all should know by now, we do theme parties that involve, in many cases, thematic dressing. The G-d of parties came to us in a dream and told us- the time is nigh for you to hold another party. And so we made ourselves ready. Then the G-d of parties said, Women will come to this party. They shall wear tennis skirts. The G-d of parties went on: Men will come to this party. They shall adorn themselves in Polo shirts. Then the G-d of parties left us to contemplate the consequences of transgression. We decided it was better to be safe than sorry. Appropriate attire is mandatory (we will have loaners for the unprepared, to help them save their souls). So let it be written; so let it be done.

2) Help us, help you. We are going to provide beer, punch (the good stuff), and an ice luge. We would very much appreciate if you would bring hard alcohol to pour down the ice luge (i.e. Goldschlager, Vodka, Rum, Midori, etc), or if you want a fancy beer or wine. You get the picture.

3) Time is hazy (I have already been drinking) but show up around 8ish and I think there will still be some alcohol available. We'll be playing board and card games, shuffle board on our new table, and pin the tail on the Dave in honor of his birthday.

My Evite response: So, a party where girls must wear short skirts came to you in a dream? Hmmm.

The end my friends. Is it really only Tuesday?

A Weekend of Mystique to Cut Out Cancer

2007-04-23T00:23:00.000Z

I wore a sequin dancer's costume with a tulle skirt, red elbow-length formal gloves, and feathers in my hair to Saint-Ex last night. None of the other hosts of Team Cuttler's A Night of Mystique were with me in their sequins. Oh, and I totally got picked up like a gazillion times and not one guy asked me why I was dressed like we were backstage at the Folies Bergere in Vegas.

The Pea, Vive, and I made hundreds of 100 proof vodka filled Jello shots on Friday night. Then we stirred up more bottles of alcohol than Paris Hilton's table at her own, namesake club to make the miraculously tasty Potion Punch (okay, now we can say what's in it: 2 parts rum, 2 parts vodka, 2 parts gin, 2 parts triple sec, 1 part peachtree schnapps, tropical punch Koolaid, and fresh mango juice). We had to keep tasting it throughout the night, and I can almost swear we were all a little drunk for the cooking. We didn't notice that the Costco Dixie cups we purchased were for cold beverages only and not lined in wax. The Pea looked in the fridge only to discover that a round of shots had become a cookie sheet long Jello shot. We double layered the cups, and it did the trick.

Cherry Jello stains, in case you didn't know. Our hands looked like we'd be sunburned on the tips of our fingers only.

We arrived at the Quebec House on Saturday morning at 9am to start the preparations. I'd last counted having 150 stars to hang from the ceiling and stick on the walls. I was wrong. I had 300. The room has no windows and good lighting. With the stars hanging, a disco ball, low lighting, and a black and white Houdini silent movie on the big screen television, the room looked like the prom in an "Amanda Bynes or Hillary Duff in high school" movie scene. Glow sticks, feathers, and ring pops were on tables throughout.

We had fortune cookies, fortune sticks, origami fortune tellers, fortune ask-the-fish, and a tarot card reader and palm reader/ handwriting analyst. A magician performed tricks on black felt. A belly dancer performed a 30-minute show in green sequins. The DJs spun a mix of upbeat dance tunes. And all the hosts wore sequin gowns and gloves. Jer wore a top hat, tux, and white gloves. He carried a wand around and did tricks for everyone. Margaret Allen was there to take professional pictures of the evening.

My handwriting analysis by Yossef was totally right on. I was told I have so many talents I'm not using at all... that I'm a creative story teller, but my stories come back to bite me in the ass (blog)... that I am good at making decisions but not high strung... that I put 100% into whatever I do.... that I'm a little disorganized. He suggested that I start spending time making round a's and o's in my cursive. It will be the hardest thing I've ever done, but it will help me straighten out my life more. I'll let you know if doing so changes my fate.

I'd made an astrological match-up chart (the most basic one I could find), and we had tags that people could put on with their star sign. The goal was for people to meet others who they were supposed to get along with and see if the stars were correct. Well, at the table, I overheard the following conversation by two guests I didn't know. "OMG! You're supposed to be my match. I'm..." The two ended up dancing together all night and making out in a corner. We done good.

After the party, I was drunk. Too much Potion Punch for sure. I followed the Lost Boys to Saint-Ex for some dancing and more drinking. The light came on at 3am. I got a ride home with a friend and woke up this morning feeling like the solar system had collapsed on my head.

We all met at the Quebec House at 9am to clean up the mess we'd created. 4 labor intensive hours later (and 3 trips to the bathroom for me to throw up), we finished cleaning with plenty of the day left to recover. I attempted to sleep, but gave up after an hour and caught up with friends on the phone instead.

I'm going to bed. Practicing some cursive first though.

Graham and Sam

2007-04-20T13:55:00.000Z

I haven't talked to my best friend Graham since right after Ali's father passed away. Before that, I'd not talked to him since college.

On the phone last night: "Sam, you realize I was so in love with you in college right? You might have been the only girl I was ever that in love with."

Oy vey.

Graham and I met at a Delta Chi party two days before freshman year of college began. Ali and I had met at orientation and were insta-best friends. We went to our first fraternity party together that night. A cute blond boy who resembled Anthony Michael Hall circa NYPD Blue started talking to us. He was rushing Delta Chi. His name was Graham.

We became friends that night and started going out with him and a couple other guys who were rushing than pledging Delta Chi. Graham and I talked on the phone every night about everything. We met in the coffee shop on campus for breakfast or lunch or dinner. We were basically attached.

Once he moved into Delta Chi second semester, I would happily stay in his room if I was drunk and couldn't drive home, and he'd stay at Chi O with me if the same was true of him being near me. This continued all the way through sophomore year. Girls he dated couldn't stand me being around, and guys I dated couldn't stand him. It was a pseudo-boyfriendship. My first of many in my life.

My parents came in town, and he came out with us. I was driving in Graham's car with my parents following behind on the way to dinner. My dad, to this day, laughed when he saw the bumper sticker on Graham's car, "Orgasm Donor."

Graham and Sam. Sam and Graham. For the first two years of college, that was something I was used to hearing daily.

The only problem was that Graham had feelings for me. I knew this, but I chose to avoid the issue.

The first blow up happened Junior year. Graham sort of told me how he felt on my 21st birthday. I chose to pretend I didn't remember, because I was so drunk that night. Then, he came over one night for a game of poker and crashed in my bed. We overheard my roommate having sex. He tossed and turned a bit. Finally, he stood up and said, "Sam, you need to decide if you want me in your bed or not. End of the story."

He got up and left. I followed him out to his car. "No, don't go. Really? You're going."

Our friendship was hanging on a thread. I tried my best to call and see him more. It didn't really work. We stopped talking for several months. He began dating Kim. Kim hated me for obvious reasons.

On my 22nd birthday, I went to Delta Chi to hang out with my friends there. Graham was there. He walked me to Lyss's car. My friends and I were all going to Niagra Falls the next day for the weekend. I had invited him to come. I had decided, "Maybe I do want Graham in my bed. Maybe."

Drunk outside of Delta Chi in the parking lot, Graham was leaning against his car. "What's going on?" he asked me. "Let's do this. Why haven't we done this? I mean, how do we even know?" I asked him. "Sam, you're drunk. I don't want this to happen drunk. Besides, I have a girlfriend now. It might be too late."

The next morning, I didn't call Graham. I didn't show up to pick him up. I went to Niagra Falls without him. We stopped talking for several months again.

By second semester senior year, we were on slight speaking terms again. Kim was always a complete bitch to me. I found out later he'd told her, "don't worry about Sam. She finally said she wanted me, and I turned her down for you." Yeah, that was going to make the girl stop hating me. Guys are such morons sometimes.

We graduated and lost touch. After Ali's dad died, I called all of our close friends from college to arrange having them at the funeral. It was the only thing I could give her for her loss- my ability to gather the troupes. I called Louie for Ryan's number and Ryan for Graham's number. I wanted to talk to Graham.

"Sam! Well, I'm in Providence now in law school. Kim and I are engaged. How are you? Last I heard, you were living with some guy in New York." At the time, I was living with Jerk.

I called him a couple times here and there. We played phone tag more than anything else.

Then, I finally started using my MySpace account. My friend Pam (a good friend of Graham's. Yes, at times it was Sam, Pam, and Graham hanging out. I know.) messaged me through MySpace that she was married to her college boyfriend, running a magazine in Naples, and happy. "Oh, and have you spoken to Craka (we called him that for obvious reasons)? Kim and him are done. Woohoo! Call him!"

So, I called and emailed Graham. We played phone tag some more. Nothin' back.

Saturday, I got a MySpace message from him: "I haven't checked this in months. My father passed away. Kim and I split. She took my Grandma's heirloom ring. I dropped out of law school. Call me. Been too long. Number's the same."

Last night, we caught up. Finally. "You still mumble! Man, I forgot how you mumble!" "Are you still staying up for days and then popping Tylenol PM by the thousands?" "Wait, you're not a size 0 anymore. Thank goodness. You were emaciated." He's coming to Ali's wedding with me in August. Ali this morning on the phone, "wow. You know you both always had sexual tension, right?" I don't know. Who really ever knows. We were best friends. I think I'm just happy to have my best friend back. Sam and Graham. Graham and Sam. Generic packages are never quite the same as the original. Ingredients always seem to be missing.

Excuse me sir, may I have another?

2007-04-19T14:12:00.000Z

99 bottles of alcohol in my shopping cart (I've never shopped with a cart at a liquor store before!). 99 bottles of alcohol (Much like the bags of generic cereal in the supermarket, the cheaper alcohol bottles are way on the bottom shelf. I gave the liquor store employees quite a showing of my ass). Take one down, pass it around...

So, I went to Virginia to buy the alcohol for A Night of Mystique last night. Lots and lots of liquor. Like, I had a shopping list-style liquor shopping.

A dirty old man winked at me. I would have winked at me too.

ABC Employee: "Do you need any help?"
Me: "Um, where would Everclear be located?"
ABC Employee: "What?"
Me: "High alcohol volume vodka."
ABC Emploee: "We don't sell that."
Me: "Okay, well any other brand of high volume alcohol."
ABC Employee: "Let me check. Javy, Javy [yelling to storage area]... Everclear?"
Javy: "No, that's illegal in Virginia."
Me: "Oh, okay. What else is higher volume for Jello shots?"
Javy [smirking]: "Jello shots?"
Me [clammy palms and blushing]: "Um, yeah. For a party I'm hosting. I'm 27. I haven't made a Jello shot in a long while. I don't really like them. I didn't know Everclear was illegal in Virginia. That's really how little I know about them. Because, well, I don't drink them often. I'm just hosting a party. I'm 27. Wait, did I say that?"

--- yes, I'm a tool ----

Javy: "Well, the highest volume alcohol we sell is 100 proof. Will that work?"
Me: "That's just great, thanks."
Javy: "How many bottles? Let me get some from the back."
Me [wondering if this is coming from a bathtub somewhere or if I'm supporting Al-Qaeda]: "Um, two please."
ABC Employee: "Will that be all? Just these 11 bottles and the 2 bottles Javy's getting?"
Me: "Yes."
ABC Employee: "Can I see your ID?"
Me: "Yes. Here."
ABC Employee: "Your hair is not the same in this picture."
Me: "Yeah. It's curly."
ABC Employee: "Oh. It's not now."
Me: "Right. I straightened it today."
ABC Employee: "Oh. Why?"
Me: "I felt like it."

Yep. So that, in a nutshell, was my evening. Enough said. Let's drink.

Team Cuttler Plays the Field/ Bar- Week 2

2007-04-18T13:55:00.000Z

We had the early game last night. At 6:25 pm, we arrived at the Adams Morgan field layered in our warmest sporty attire. We were playing the Steptoe Ballers, a team composed of a bunch of coworkers at Steptoe & Johnson. We got our butts kicked. Me to SV: "What's the score?" SV, "I stopped counting. We lost."

So, yeah, I realize that I'm completely dead weight on the team. Perfect happy baby and tree poses don't translate to kickball athletic abilities. But, the BIG issue about our team semi-sucking, we have 4 triathletes (including 2 Ironmen), 1 personal trainer, and a host of other athletes on our team. So the Master showed up in her cleats with a Proenza Schouler sweatshirt and Chanel sunglasses and I forgot to take off my diamond studs before getting to the field, the truth is, we're the only ones with excuses for not being good. HK, "Well, our team should suggest that the game last for 9 hours. Then we'd rock for our endurance."

After the massacre, we headed to Adams Mill for drinking. The problem with a super early game is you have about an hour with only 2 other teams to hang out before the other people arrive. This is bad for the drinkin' type, because, well, you drink.

Our team took to flip cupping against the Steptoe employees, though no actual lawyers were present, which was sort of funny. The team danced together and took shots to a point where the Mack and I wondered how awkward their tomorrow was gonna be at work.

Bitchy comment of the night: the Mack and I checking out the teams playing flip cup upstairs, "let's not come to the bar after we play that grey team." The Mack, "I think they're all hooking up with each other tonight." Me, "so long as they don't procreate."

I left around midnight after dancing to "Come on Irene" with my teammates and making some new friends whose names I don't remember.

I requested nudity from the Steptoers at one point stating that I wanted the full kickball experience as seen in Peter's pictures. No one got naked. I was a tad disappointed. This blog is sure to be boring if I don't at least see something obscene!

Eatin' like a chick-

2007-04-17T14:33:00.000Z

There was a very attractive dude in line behind me at Social Safeway on Sunday. Okay, so yeah, he was definitely an undergrad somewhere in the area. But, hey, that's legal, right?

I was buying groceries to make dinner and also have some food in my fridge for the week. I noticed him scoping out my assortment. Smart Ones, Healthy Request Campbell's soup, fat free Wishbone Italian dressing, egg beaters, skim milk, tomatoes, Smart Balance light butter spread with flax seed oil added, Diet Pepsi, fat free feta cheese, Baked Lays...

The boy behind me plopped down a bunch of Hot Pockets, frozen pizzas, salsa and tortilla chips, and the largest grin ever planted on such a cute face.

The thing is, I don't completely eat like a chick. I definitely eat my share of pizza and Chinese take out. But, the bigger question remains, what would a guy rather see a chick have in her fridge- a bunch of crap or a bunch of low-fat foods? 99.5% of the girls I know swing one way or the other only. I don't know many girls who have a fair mix of the two things.

Being on the smaller, um, size of things in DC (size 6 is being defended by JLo. I don't know how I feel about being qualified as a "larger" girl in Hollywood standards. This is why I'll never move to LA, for the record.) I always feel like I look like I have bulimia when I buy a bunch of crap food at one time. I'm generally buying the food for a party or gathering, but I'm totally that girl that feels the need to defend it to anyone looking on in the grocery line with judgement. I'll completely call up a friend, just for effect, and say something like, "Hey. Yeah, so you think 2 bags of Hershey mini bars will be enough for feeding the challenged youth we're volunteering with tonight? Do you think they like Hostess cupcakes too?"

So, which is better? When I'm buying all low fat foods, I do worry that a hot guy behind me in line might think to himself that I've got serious FP (fat potential, for the non-5th graders reading this). I could totally see them thinking, "Wow, she eats like a starving bird and can only get to a size 4-6. Hmmm. Moving on."

I mean, I suppose, ya know, maybe it'd be a grand idea to just eat whatever you like whenever you like and not confuse nourishment with ways to attract men.

But I do think about it. You know you do too...

As American as Apple Pie.

2007-04-16T14:08:00.000Z

I tend to match people to songs. Like, I constantly have a soundtrack running through my head where almost every song I hear reminds me of someone. When it comes to guys, I realized I've had a ton of men I've dated remind me of "American Pie." Second up would definitely be "Cheeseburger In Paradise." And then there's another category for Beach Boys songs like "G-d Only Knows." I suppose you could say I like my men about as wholesome as an apple a day. Ideally, I'd like a guy who loves football, barbecues, RVing, lab puppies, Polo shirts, country music, Head & Shoulders... ya know, Tim McGraw minus Faith Hill, tehe.

Missdy planned a birthday party for Eye on Friday night. We met at Eye's apartment at 8pm, and I drank half the bottle of wine with "subtle hints of apple" in it. The girls took shots. By the time we arrived at Lucky Strike for the bowling portion of the evening, the world was twirling around me even more than the disco lighting. I still managed to take 56 pictures. The ones from the later part of the evening weren't exactly of people as much as they were of people's backs.

Eye declared in the bathroom that she was the drunkest she'd ever been. The picture above (one of 3 pictures I have of Eye taking shots) might help enlighten you to why this actually could have been the certain case.

Saturday morning, I awoke slightly hungover and headed over to DC Central Kitchen to volunteer for Kids in the Kitchen . We worked with mothers and daughters who are enrolled in a year long program to teach teenage girls life skills. A DC Central Kitchen chef taught the girls to chop vegetables and make a healthy pizza and apple crisp. Then, a nutritionist explained the new food pyramid which emphasizes portion control and exercise.

I met Jer Saturday evening at CAN's kickoff party at an overly packed McFadden's. I arrived after the 6pm-9pm slated time for the gathering. I looked at the line to get in and called Jer's phone to declare that I wasn't planning on staying long enough to wait in a line (honestly, I just refuse to wait in a line to get into McFadden's). The CAN player cards for McFadden's state that you can skip the line at any time. Jer annoyed the bouncer until they let me in. I felt like the biggest loser ever for exerting that much energy into entering McFadden's.

Yesterday evening, I met District Belle and others at Christ Church to help make food for the homeless. Salvation Army has a van that stops at different places throughout the city each night. Different churches in the area fund 150 brown bag meals and provide volunteers for the preparation and delivery of these meals each night. Christ Church provides food every Sunday and Monday night. The Salvation Army requires that at least 150 meals are made (District Belle was on the van serving last night and said it was terrible when they ran out of food) and that women are served before men. I assume this has something to do with the fact that homeless women often have children to feed as well.

I cooked apple crisp myself last night for myself and a friend. Looking at the extra in my fridge this morning, I thought about the weekend. As American as apple pie unfortunately doesn't apply to everyone in America. This blog is not meant to be a political commentary, as I've said before, so I'll leave it at that...

Word Freak

2007-04-13T14:04:00.000Z

My mother got me into Scrabble. She'd play this old game for hours against the computer rival, Maven. I'd never really been into the game until college when I'd make trips home. On my third or fourth trip down, I noticed I'd picked up on many of the 2 letter words and got at least one bingo per game. She burned me a copy of her game, and I took to playing it in the evenings as I watched television and relaxed. Now, I admit, I play the game in the mornings while I eat breakfast before work and watch the news. I play the game in the evenings before I go to bed. I've even discovered the Yahoo game which has new words that have been added to the dictionary in the last couple years (my game's from 1996) like "qi" and "ae." I'll download the game for the free 60 minutes and when that runs out delete the program from my computer and download it again (I should probably just pay the $19.99 and save myself some time, but I'm a bit cheap.)

So, there you have it. I'm pretty much a closeted Scrabble dork.

But, it gets worse.

I also have another word freak quirk.

I do anagrams in my head all the time. Like, on the metro, I'll take a word or phrase I see on a poster and turn it into as many words or phrases as I can. Constantly. If I'm bored while talking to someone or in a meeting, I'll think of the person's name and try to come up with as many other names as I can within that name. It's a little sick. I've really only ever admitted this to my mother. She does it sometimes too.

Last night, I met someone in Silver Spring for drinks. We got on the topic of Scrabble and then I just mentioned my anagram quirk. (I was so embarrassed after it came out of my mouth!) "I do that too!" he laughed. "No you don't?" "Yeah, really. How strange! I've never met anyone who did that!" "I know how strange! We're both closeted word freaks!"

It was so bizarre and fantastic I just about took his name and turned it into seven other names in my head!

Quality girls play kickball-

2007-04-12T19:37:00.000Z

Peter: New girl on my [kickball] team from last night: "I am so excited to meet some guys in kickball. I haven't dated in 4 months! I would take ANYthing right now... seriously, masturbation is getting sooo boring."
Sam: OMG! Can I quote that on my blog?
Peter: Hahaha. I was like, ummm. Then, the whole night she was trying to pick up guys. But the thing is, she's actually pretty cute.
Sam: Um, can we say serious emotional issues!
Peter: Nah. She was just horny =P
Sam: Who the hell says that?
Peter: Someone who's drunk
Sam: I'd say chances of an STD: HIGH RISK carrier.
Peter: Hehe

My A-list

2007-04-12T16:14:00.000Z

Someone asked me the other day how I manage having a multitude of friends and not compartmentalize the diversity of relationships in my life. In case you hadn't figured out, I'm pretty much the queen of tossing the most random people together and just assuming they'll get along. Perhaps it's a tad bit of arrogance on my part- thinking that if I like someone everyone will like them- but, I just don't see the point in having a bunch of friends if you can't bring them all together whenever you want to see them.

During senior year of college, I held dinner parties for my close friends every Monday night. I was a sorority girl from Bama who'd lived on the Cape for summer, taken writing and art and business and literature classes, been a member of the Theatre guild, and managed to make friends with athletes in just about every sport the school offered. So, I'd bring the closest of my friends together once a week to chat and dine. My "sorority" friend Adriana ran into my "baseball" friend Jesse in Boston a couple years ago drunk and remarked, "Oh yeah, Jesse from Monday night dinner parties! How are you?"

The truth is, we all have an A-list, B-list, and C-list of friends. When Jer asks, "how come you've yet to add all of DC to my party's Evite list?" I'll ask how many people he wants there and then choose from the lists.

A-lists are those people you do things with one on one. In terms of numbers, I separate my lists by party invites. 10 people at my house for dinner... that's my A-list.

Like Ari came over last night to catch up, order in food, and watch America's Next Top Model (only one comment of the night. Dude, Kim looks so much better than she did when she was on the show! But, um, not like that. Sorry, I don't swing that way kids.) and the Search for the Next Pussycat Doll. (Incidentally, she wants a new name. Since she's got pretty light eyes that sparkle, I'm switching her name to Franky.)

B-lists are those people who might eventually move to your A-list, like friends of friends, but at the moment are more the type of people you'd invite to an event that had less than 50 people.

C-lists are basically just acquaintances. People you know enough to drink with or attend parties for, but they wouldn't be at a party you were planning unless you were inviting more than 50 people.

Anyone outside of that isn't a friend, they are just people you know.

As for drama, I notice my anxiety of impending drama only really exists when it's hitting close or within my A-list. That's when my stomach does knots and ability to sleep disappears. I'm a proponent for some form of drama keeping life interesting. Obviously, I'd prefer positive dramatic events like a friend going on a hot date, but the negative kind does keep life entertaining. I'm only good with the drama being external of my A-list though. A person my trust their A-list at all times.

I've also noticed that it's easy to bump B-lists to C-lists (say someone fails to show up at parties you invite them to for months) or C-lists to B-lists (someone always shows up). It's easy to bump a B-list to an A-list (you get to know them better, or they start dating one of your friends). But, by far the most difficult move is bumping an A-lister back to a B or C. That usually involves drama, trauma, or all around badness. As I've gotten older, it's become even more difficult.

So, there you go. That's some of my classic terminology for ya. May the force be with you.

Kickball Take 1

2007-04-11T14:09:00.000Z

I saw a girl's bra last night at, like, 9:30pm. My introduction to kickball is now complete.

My brother and arrived at Adams Mill at 7:30pm as instructed by our team's Evite for the event. No one from our team was there yet. My response, "this is why I'm never on time for things. I hate waiting. And, damn, I didn't look at the map of where the field is." Josh, "so what if no one shows up?" Me, "um, guess we're not going."

Around 7:45, our teammates arrived. We had drinks upstairs and watched the teams who'd finished playing earlier games start on their flip cup madness. The schedule for the games isn't overly ideal, and teams get stuck with 8:45pm games one or more weeks. Luckily, next week we have the 6:30pm slot.

I spotted the bright pink shirts of one team, and recalled to the team about how Peter had that color shirt last year. He had me laughing talking about what would happen if you stayed over at a girl's house after a kickball game in a bright pink kickball shirt. Do you turn it inside out or just own the morning after walk? One of the guys in the pink shirt asked me what I'd just said, so I re asked the hypothetical question. He responded that his whole team had requested that color. Then he showed me his matching pink bobby socks. Turns out he was gay, so the real question would be if you stayed at a guys house I guess. Sorry Peter.

We walked to the field in the cold and started the game. The other team was very competitive. The Master was yelling out orders like a castrated army officer. Suave, who'd come to watch and cheer, "I'd be scared to play on the Master's team. She's tough." Who knew?

We lost by one point and then some of us headed back to the bar. I just wanted to see what the bar scene was like at 9:30pm for future reference after later games. Everyone was already pretty drunk and four members of the dark green team (it's confusing- there are 3 green teams- light green, evergreen, and dark green) were dancing on a bench downstairs. For no apparent reason, one of the girls stripped off her shirt. "OMG! Did we just see a bra? Already?" "At least it was a lace, satin thing."

Yeah, this is going to be one interesting sociology experiment. I gotta remember to wear cute bras, ya know, just in case...

Let the BBQ Season Begin!

2007-04-10T15:07:00.000Z

I love the smell of hickory chip smoke in my hair after lightin' up the charcoal and noshing on burgers and dogs with my friends. I love barbecue sauce and baked beans and pasta salad and Ruffles served with beer and much laughter. My favorite thing about the end of winter has become the promise of nights spent on the back porch of my apartment.

Last night, we gathered to fire up my Weber and celebrate Suave's 27th birthday. A catastrophe involving using my Match Light charcoal that I stored away from last November (and didn't work anymore, apparently), didn't stop us from enjoying pieces of turkey burger (I didn't defrost all the way), soy burgers, chicken, and dogs.

My brother's still in town (that's him above in the picture on the left), so it was nice for him to see the low-key side of DC. He interviewed yesterday which got me thinking about my new favorite party game: Asking people classic interview questions but to get a real answer.

I tried some out last night. Here are some of the funnier responses:

What are your real strengths and weaknesses at work?

Strengths: Never taking a lunch break. Typing fast. Attention to details. Ability to align PowerPoint labels quickly. Outlasting people at anything. Amazing softball player. Covering for coworkers when they go get a manicure mid-day. Offering to get coffee for the whole office regularly even if it's just an excuse to get out of the office. Multi-tasking by IMing while on boring conference calls. Looking busy even when not doing a thing. Playing tech support to moronic coworkers.

Weaknesses: Spider Solitaire. Social networking sites. Being ultra-moody when PMSing. Pedicures in the afternoon. Personal phone calls. Going to the water cooler regularly. Taking 30 minutes to do something that you bill a client 5 hours to complete. Listening to Broadway musicals and annoying coworkers without caring. Zoning out when being talked to about projects. General contempt for everything and anything. Picking nose in office when no one's looking. Spitting on the floor.

Name a time you took a risk that paid off?

Driving home slightly buzzed. Stopping on the side of the highway to puke. Peeing in an alley way with a cop on a side street. Using a really bad fake ID to get into a bar. Hooking up with a friend's ex boyfriend. Having sex in a public place. Stealing a soda from the office fridge. Dancing on a bar filled with truckers. Deciding drunk that Divinyl's "I Touch Myself" is a wonderful karaoke song choice for a group of girls to sing in front of fraternity guys.

Where do you see yourself in 10 years?

Knocked up. Married to Prince William. Firing people like the interviewer for dressing poorly. At Neiman Marcus lunching with the ladies on the Upper East Side rather than working. Getting Botox injections. Wondering why people ask these types of questions in interviews. Legally changing names after being caught for looking at porn on-line. Married to a movie star. Reading about finally finding out who the father of Dannielynn Hope Marshall Stern.

The game could go on and on. I suggest playing it your next event. It's pretty freakin' funny.

I'm not so out of shape.

2007-04-06T15:02:00.000Z

I went to step class at the JCC with Suave last night. One hour of cardio and strength training. A definite change from the calm poses of yoga and pilates. Gloria Estefan was playing overhead at one point.

And, the good news, I'm not as out of shape as I thought I was...

Okay, yeah, so I was the only one in class without risers under my step last night. But, I worked out with Suave the whole class. I do well in classes, because I'm competitive and vain. Hell if I'm going to be the one who doesn't make it through the whole thing. I couldn't quite get the arms and legs to move together as instructed, so mainly I stuck to my footwork and pumped my arms back and forth in some demented rowing motion. Not that anyone was paying attention.

This morning, I picked my car up from NT Auto Body in Alexandria. The back door is finally fixed from the run in I had with a pole near my parking spot last April. NT had it finished in a week for $150 less than they quoted me. Gotta appreciate honesty when it comes to auto repair.

My brother comes in tomorrow! I'm so excited that he might be moving to DC. He'll get to meet everyone at Suave's birthday on Saturday night. Last year, Gene was in town for it. Strange how that happens.

And that's all folks. Hope you have a most excellent weekend.

Pictures of Peaches

2007-04-06T02:18:00.000Z

I just uploaded my pictures of Peaches chewing on her greenie. I miss her so much!

Sniffle. Dogs can't talk on the phone to you or come visit you for a weekend. It's depressing to leave something so cute behind.

Sweetness

2007-04-05T14:04:00.000Z

Crossroads, seem to come and go, yeah. The gypsy flies from coast to coast. Knowing many, loving none. Bearing sorrow having fun. But back home he'll always run.

Things I can control: my weight, my skin, my health, my work, keeping my closet clean, my time, the dent in the side of my car I postponed fixing since last April...

Things I can, but probably shouldn't, control: my emotions, my curly hair, my trust in others, my ability to tune out the entire world and paint...

Things I wish I could control: the weather, my relationships, my friendships, my PMSing, my hunger, my sinuses, other drivers on the road, the cost of housing, the number of people trying to get on a metro, sales on Diet Pepsi at Safeway, etc.

Last night, this gypsy met Vive at her apartment in Cleveland Park for a long walk all the way down to the Dupont area and then for dinner at Luna Grill.

"I want to do something aerobic," I've been declaring to most of my friends. I'm going to step class tonight with Suave. Trying kickboxing next weekend with Ari and body sculpting this weekend with Kate maybe.

gChat with Peter yesterday:

Sam: So what activity can you and i do that's aerobic? Are there batting cages anywhere or wanna go to a driving range?
Peter: Batting cages and driving golf balls are not aerobic.
Sam: Well, they're activities that don't involve alcohol. Fine, what else could we do? Tennis?
Peter: You don't play any of these sports!
Sam: I could play all of these sports if I wanted to.
Peter: Not well =P
Sam: You're not being very encouraging.
Peter: If you want an aerobic activity, there's an ancient eastern tradition that has been passed down for centuries and is supposed to be a really good cardio workout that I heard of....
Sam: Oh yeah?
Peter: It's called running.
Sam: Thanks for the support.

My Dog is Precious.

2007-04-04T15:24:00.000Z

My dog, Peaches, is 16 years old. We bought her from a breeder when I was in the 5th grade. She was supposed to be a Peekapoo. Josh and I went to either get another Yorkie, after our first dog Moppy (again, who let's a 3 year old name a dog? It's lucky I didn't name the dog Hairy.) was hit by a car, or another miniature dog. Peaches looked different than all her litter, but she ran to the front and started licking Josh's hand. I was busy playing with another puppy with round circles around his eyes. Josh held Peaches in his hands saying, "I want this one." I wasn't sold, but Josh never demanded anything. I put down the dog with glasses, and he handed me Peaches. She began to lick my face, and I knew she would be our new puppy. We have no idea what breed she is. Her mom was a slut and apparently might have slept with a Cocker Spaniel too (appropriately enough). We now say she was a very expensive Cock-a-peekapoo. A very expensive mutt.

Peaches knows about 4 tricks. My mom had her in doggy boot camp when I was in 6th grade. I was supposed to practice tricks with her, but, of course, I thought it'd be more fun to teach her some random tricks instead. So, the Peach knows how to sit, give you a high five, a low five, and, if you cover your eyes and say "peak-a-boo Peaches" she uses both paws to tap your eyes.

I was such a trouble maker.

But Peaches was my confident and my best friend. She slept with me every night on a special pillow at the end of my bed. I'd cry to her about everything, and she's listen patiently and lick away my tears. My mom often says, "if Peaches could talk, I'd love to know all the horrible things you said about me during high school."

Now Peaches is old. She has cataracts and can't hear very well. She spends most of the day sleeping and makes noises because she can't hear herself making them. She sleeps at the bottom of my parents bed, or if she's too tired to jump up, curls up on the carpet. It breaks my heart to leave home after a visit, because my greatest fear is returning home without her there.

My visit home this time around was calm. I got in Friday night late, slept in each day, shopped with my mom, got tapas with a friend in downtown Mobile one night and a glass wine with another friend another night, and basically just hung around with my dog and parents. I was tempted to go to Biloxi and see Gene who working their from Denver, but I needed a long weekend off.

My dog is precious. My mom hates that word. She thinks it sounds too Southern and uneducated. It's the best way to describe my Peaches though. She's so cute and meaningful and fragile. I'm a bit home sick for her.

Live from the Ghetto of Bama

2007-04-03T14:31:00.000Z

I'll update everyone tomorrow once I'm back in DC. I fly out in just a bit. For the time being, I'd like to share with you a video Valli, a friend from high school, posted to YouTube featuring John John and her husband Kai. Watch it for their pretty faces and because it is hilarious. In the Bama Ghetto (with our massive SUVs, drinkin' our Bud Light, pullin' our cars out of mud pits with winches)....

How Not to Wear a Pucci Scarf to a Pool Hall.

2007-03-30T14:16:00.000Z

If you will let me be, I will try them. You will see.

Suave convinced us all to buy $36 tickets to go to Latin Dreams last night at K Street Lounge to support our friend on the planning committee and to help save Columbian refugees. Not that I know any refugees personally, but my contribution was drinking margaritas.

Then Suave got sick and couldn't come. CM was her substitute for the night. The evening can be summarized in the following gChat this morning:

Suave: How was the event?
Sam: A Yawn.
Suave: did i miss anything?
Sam: Nah. The blogger hh was more fun. Though I had several margaritas in me by that point. Not a good idea. The Pea and I met a bunch of unattractive men on expense accounts who bought us drinks. No need to owe them anything in return, although I might have to buy some mutual funds. They taught us to play shuffle board. Shuffle board was $20 an hour at Buffalo Billiards! It was fun though. One of the bloggers at the happy hour asked one of the expense account guys if he had hair plugs. He wasn't happy. It made me laugh. I thought he had hair plugs too!
Suave: Um, fun? So I missed nothing then.

Sam: Yeah, pretty much nothing but a horrible hangover.

Sitting on the couch eyeing the crowd with my toothpaste tasting mohito at K Street Lounge(good thing it was open bar, because blah, that was disgusting!), I leaned over to the Pea and SF. "Okay, spot the Glamour Don't in this crowd. I'm such a bitch. You know the karma of me saying this is going to be a bunch of people asking why I'm wearing a Pucci scarf around my neck like it's 1952."

The Pea, "Holy shit! That dress is terrible. Cute print, but does she have it hiked up? I can see her butt! OMG, she's bending over. OMG, we are actually seeing her butt. That's ridiculous!"

I had to get a picture. I pretended to be taking a picture of CM. Here's the blossoming, too short, out of season, butt-showing dress option. I guess in a pick up scene one must show their assets. I don't think this picture does the fashion Don't justice.

Admission to K Street got you a raffle ticket. You put the raffle ticket in your choice of 4 different packages. The options: A Romance Package with a hotel room and fancy dinner, A sports package with front row tickets to a Caps game and dinner at Clyde's, A Starting Over Package with a year of Jdate membership and dinner (okay, pretty embarrassing to win that one), or A New You Package with Laser Hair Removal (even more embarrassing! Even if I needed it, which I don't, damned if I want everyone at the bar to know about that!)

We left at 9pm right when the open bar concluded and head to i-66's blogger happy hour. I realized a little too late into the evening that I had a scarf around my neck. Not really proper pool hall attire (well nor was my satin pleated skirt and stilettos, but anyways). I immediately took it off and tied it on the handle of purse a la Miranda Priestly. That was probably even more pretentious now that I think about it. I hope no one noticed.

i-66's only got one more of these functions to host. I've already mentioned my anxiety over attending anything blogger, but I love i-66, and he was hanging in the District, so it was worth it. Besides, I was curious. Not that I talked to anyone who I didn't already know, but I did force myself to hover near the group. Baby steps. I say that like I'm going to more in the future. Probably not. We'll see. I make many social gathering promises I don't keep (um, I was at Rumor's last week and Chief Ikes the weekend before).

"I haven't kept up my blog roll well tonight," i-66 remarked. "Yeah, I'm not here." He laughed, "I knew that before you said it."

Drunken me also didn't think about how my talking to the expense account boys must have looked. Like I'd ever go home with a guy that looks like he has hair plugs. But, I wasn't teasing him either, honestly. I don't think. This is the group that was reading Jessica Cuttler before Wonkette picked her up. Yeah, note to self, not a good idea.

I stayed out till midnight. I'm hungover and flying to Bama tonight for the weekend. Woohoo!

Can we just review the current portfolios of this season's ANTM?

2007-03-29T14:13:00.000Z

Because, seriously, TyTy Baby, oh no you didn't!

I think Miss Jay and Jay Manuel overdosed on the hormones.

Here's how the website explains last night's shoots: "At the photo shoot, the girls must transcend their gender by posing as men alongside male models who pose as women."

Yep, the girls dressed as dudes and were criticized in evaluation for not being manly enough. Ya know, because so often girl models are asked to dress like dudes? I didn't realize it was the 16th century and Shakespeare was smokin' the doobie while directing.

Thus far, the girls portfolios consist of the following themes- politically radical, a high school cliche, naked coated in candy, murdered by other models, and dressed as men. Who's hiring these girls to model? The National Enquirer?

Also, I do think it's rather funny that Twiggy is most obsessed with Renee as a model seeing as Renee looks like a mini (albeit a disgruntled and bitchy) Twiggy.

Kick It!

2007-03-28T15:29:00.000Z

I'm coming out of the, um, dingy bathroom at Tom Tom's about something.

I bashed the hell out of kickball last year. Okay, no, really, I bashed the hell out of the founder of DC Kickball. The Master and Peter and Ralph and everyone else I know who plays and who I consider a friend of mine suggested I rock it before I knock it. So, the Master put together a WAKA Adams Morgan team as part of Team Cuttler's fundraising plan (this year's WAKA charity is to raise money for players who are participating in the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society's Team in Training marathons). I promised I'd sign up thinking she'd never follow through and leave her championship team. I was wrong. I signed up. I'm playing kickball.

On the plus side, everyone on our team is a friend of ours who I'd actually opt to drink with once a week or more. The main issues with my playing are as follows:

1) I don't know how to play kickball. I'm sure it will come back to me from those sweltering elementary Physical Education class days of Mrs. Baker blowing her whistle for my friends and I to stop talking in left field, but, as of now, I know as much about kickball as I do about why my father insists on watching, yawn, curling.

2) I don't drink beer unless I'm trashed, thirsty with no other options, or participating in a round of car bombs at the Black Duck in Westport, CT (Martha Stewart Living TV gathering-after-softball tradition).

3) Even if I did drink beer, I find flip cup extremely unsanitary. Think about it, people's saliva-covered plastic cups falling into a mound of beer one at a time, over and over again. I'm too much of a hypochondriac to have any interest in partaking in that past time.

4) I don't own many pairs of work out pants and shorts. My collection of exercise gear consists of about 4 pairs of spandex, cropped yoga pants and cute racer-back sports bra tanks. I'll need to stock up on my Soffe shorts like in college again. You think I should iron my sorority letters on the toosh too?

5) I don't like sweating. I do sweat (okay, obviously), but I don't like smelling like sweat. I especially hate smelling like sweat and suntan lotion. I'm going to have to buy one of those Sharper Image personal cooling systems or something. Would I look silly (or a 1980s Disney World tourist) if I brought a water spray bottle and mini-fan?

Last night's kickoff party at Adams Mill was fun. All my friends were there, and we had a great time. I wore my "laid-back kickball gal" best (ie a cotton fitted tank and torn-on-purpose designer jeans with sandals and hair in a pony tail). I ran into a friend of a friend I'd not seen in a while. He told me one of his teammates gave me a "cute." Meaning, he was sitting at a table with them pointing out who he knew in the bar. When he pointed to me, the person said, "oh, she's cute." See, I can play this role. Sam the kickball chick.

Pleaaaaaaaaase stop the laughing.

I'm Not a Very Easy Rebound

2007-03-27T14:46:00.000Z

There was a time in my life when I enjoyed being the rebound. I know SHOCKING! But, there was something to be said for being everything a guy was lacking in their last relationship. I'm not talking about being the chick a dude spots across the bar while taking shots with his buddies and brings home the weekend after he splits with a girl. I enjoyed being the girl 2 or 3 months later who he dates because she's completely opposite of the ex-girlfriend.

This was before I talked to a shrink who explained to me that my knack for avoiding serious conversations was not me having a dude mentality or being a laid-back girl, rather it was my inability to process emotion and explain what I was feeling.

So, for a short period of my life, I found that being with a guy who'd spent the last couple months fighting with someone created an ideal situation for a fluffy and cozy mini-relationship. (I was also 20, so I wasn't really lookin' to start talking about procreation and Vera Wang).

Now though, I'm weary of getting hurt. I step into things way more cautious than I did at 20. I don't find it complementary to be told that I'm so much easier to hang out with than another girl. I don't want to be the backup plan. I don't open up until someone opens up to me. I don't get attached until someone is attached to me. Hell, I don't even call them until someone has called me! And, I don't know that I'm okay with being someone's rebound.

It's not that I'm out hunting for a serious relationship. I still need some time to be listed as single on my MySpace and Friendster profiles. But, I don't want to be in something that has no direction. I don't want to be in something that doesn't have the potential to grow into something more. It's a waste of the energy and optimism that I've just begun to rebuild again. When talking about dating people just to have fun, Suave remarked, "each one of them does take a little bit out of you. Just know that. After a while, they'll add up to zero energy."

Rebound no more. Advice to others? Let the ball drop if it doesn't make it in the hoop. Someone will pick it up again in the next game.

Who I Am

2007-03-26T14:12:00.000Z

Listening to the radio as I drove to Pentagon City last week, the WMZQ DJ remarked, "That was Jessica Andrews with 'Who I Am' a number one hit back in 2002. That was Jessica's only number one hit, but, boy, what a hit it was!"

One hit Oneders. Only thing left for Jessica is to dig her key into the side of that DJ's pretty little suped up 4-wheel drive.

Then again, my friend in college was the little brother to LFO's Rich Nice. Mike dropped out of college as a microbiology major right before his senior year to move down to Orlando and work with Lou Pearlman. Even though LFO didn't make many top countdown lists after 'Summer Girls,' Mike ended up getting a gig producing Making the Band and then managing O-Town.

But anyways.

This weekend was a lesson for me. Even though I've learned to say, "look this is who I am," it takes me entirely too long to finally realize when I'm being made uncomfortable for being myself. I've been me for 27 years. I need to learn to chant Jessica Andrews in the shower or something.

If I live to be a hundred, and never see the seven wonders, that'll be alright. If I don't make it to the big leagues, if I never win a grammy, I'm gonna be just fine, cause I know exactly who I am.

I met Rob at Front Page for cheap happy hour ($5.50 for his beer and my wine) Friday night. After a couple drinks, we went to grab food at Luna Grill. He left to go meet friends in Adams Morgan, and I headed home to rest and relax.

A rainy Saturday morning made the rest of my morning and afternoon pretty mellow. At 8pm, I met Suave and company at Zengo for some cocktails before we headed to JK's Chinese New Year and housewarming party. Three glasses of Saki sangria and I was feeling much more peppy than my calling as a member of the Year of the Goat.

The Jackass (and yes, the question mark who became a period and then pretended to want to be a friend officially gets that name now) was at JK's party to meet up with us. He'd brought his sleazy, bisexual (not stereotyping, the Jackass told me this info), Spanish friend along. I'd thought the Jackass was a nice guy but boring, then I'd found out he liked to go out, so then I figured he'd make a good friend. We'd been trying to arrange plans for a while, and I was committed to possibly hooking him up with Suave. "He's into his family and wants to get married. Very settled and mature. He likes to work out everyday." Yeah, I was wrong. Very very wrong.

I left Suave and the Jackass to talk. The Jackass says to her, "Yeah, Sam thought I was boring, but I was just putting on a front of what I thought she wanted. I'm not like that at all."

Suave did not like that one bit.

So, I was drunk. The Jackass and the Sleaze were heading to Blue Gin. They knew someone who worked there so they promised no lines. I felt badly that they'd come into DC and gotten to JK's party an hour before all of us headed over from Zengo, so I decided to go with them for a drink and then meet up with the lost boys, Suave, and company at their Dupont bar of choice.

In the cab, the Sleaze started to interrogate me. "How do you know the Jackass?" "Um, we went out a couple times, but he thought I acted like a senior citizen, and I thought he was boring." "Are you single now?" "Um, yeah, technically. I'm talking to someone though." "What's he like?" "Just a guy." "What was the last guy you dated like?" "Um, I don't know, there were a string of them. One was a 6 foot 7 player, the next was an arrogant Producer, then I dated a 23-year-old followed by talking to a 40-year-old. I was having fun. This guy's much different, I guess."

The Sleaze starts speaking in Spanish as he looks out the window. The Jackass answers back one word over and over again. "I'm getting out now," I declare. The Jackass, "why?" I look at the Sleaze, "you may be able to pull whatever shit your pulling with the normal girls you pick up at the dirty clubs you must frequent, but not only will I not partake in sitting next to someone with zero class and respect, I'll most likely slap you across the face for it." We stop at a red light a block from Blue Gin. I walk to the curb. The Jackass follows, "Sam, he wasn't saying anything about you, and even if he was, I don't speak Spanish, so I have no clue what he was saying. Let's just go get a drink. Okay? Can I buy you a drink?"

Urg. Fine, I went in.

The Jackass and I get drinks and he pulls me onto the dance floor. "Come on, let's dance." "No, I'm wearing a jacket right now and know one else is dancing. Let's go upstairs." Upstairs, he takes my drink and puts it on a table. My full drink with a real little raspberry in it, which is the only reason why I'll pay $8 for that drink at Blue Gin. "Come on. Dance with me. You said you were fun. Let's have fun. You're so uptight. Let go." "I don't want to dance right now. You sound like a rapist." He pulled me to him. "Okay, I'm leaving."

I walked out having never even gotten to eat my raspberry. Damn Jackass.

Suave called to say she and everyone were at Lucky Bar. In the cab, I drunkenly felt guilty for leaving the Jackass there. I was thinking, "okay, I'm going to try not to be abrupt and just be friends with this guy." I text, "meeting all at Lucky Bar. Ya'll can come if you feel like it. Have a fun night." As I'm waiting on Suave to come save me from the line (huh?), the Jackass joins us. Outside he asks me if we can dance in Lucky Bar. "Um, no, I don't want to dance tonight." "You are uptight. You're not fun at all. You do act old." Finally, I blow up, "look, I'm definitely not the dance on a bar naked, go home with random dudes sort of girl. I think I'm plenty fun, and I appear to have a pretty great social life, so I'm assuming I'm not a total dud. That being said, you aren't going to make me act a certain way by taunting me. Perhaps it would be best if we didn't try to be friends. I don't like you boring, but I hate you like this."

Peter and Ralph were walking out as we walked in. "Let me get my jacket and Adam, and let's go somewhere else. Please leave that asshole behind," Suave said to me. The Jackass had wandered up and was seated in someone's booth by himself. I waved as we walked out.

We followed the boys to Front Page where Ralph and I danced like maniacs to Bon Jovi. See, I am fun when not provoked to be on my guard!

Sunday morning I woke up hideously hungover. Suave hosted brunch where I spent the morning and early afternoon massaging my temples.

As I was washing my face last night, I looked at myself with bags under my eyes and no makeup. I started to process the details of the evening again. Do I wish I was the type of girl who could just put up with immature guys? Yeah, sometimes. But, that's really not who I am, and I'm not going to change for anyone. Simple.

Drinkin' for a cause.

2007-03-23T15:40:00.000Z

I'd drink anyways, so it's nice to be able to drink for a cause. Lately, there have been plenty of alcohol-related charity events. I'm a fan.

We went to Rumors last night to help the disadvantaged job seekers of Alexandria and Arlington through Put Your Best Foot Forward. Tons of people attended.

I remembered why I hate Rumors though. Everytime I've been (only because I've been made to go for a birthday party or mandatory social gathering), I've come drunk and then been forced to wait for hours at the bars (there's 2, why the issue???) to get a drink. As I wait, my buzz wears off, and I'm stuck jam-packed in a gross bar with a bunch of people under 21. Luckily last night wasn't too bad. Though, I did have to strategically finish drinks around the time a guy friend did or the pregnant bartender would overlook me repeatedly. Peter called me out for tinking him one time. I explained that proper non-cock blocking decorum gets tossed out the door when someone's in need of an alcohol refill.

I forwarded one of the Lost Boy's emails about the event.

Not sure who's on this email list already, but for those who didn't get this, here's the change of venue info for Thursday night's charity hh. LB is copied if you have questions (and LB, you know I like you b/c I'm going to Rumors).

Sam

He responded back.

Sam,

There are all different levels of sacrifice in this world and their significance is relative – I know this is a big one for you so thanks.

Me back:

I think going to Rumors is totally my ticket into heaven... up there with being a martyr or a Priest or whatever else.

Him today:

You had a good time, admit it.

Next Thursday, the Young Leaders of the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society (mission of rescue, reunion, and resettlement of migrants) is throwing a Latin Dreams party to benefit Colombian refugees. $36 before March 26th or $45 at the door. You get 2 hours of open bar, food, salsa lessons, a DJ, and raffle tickets. A friend is on the Steering Committee, so we're all going. I'll drink to saving migrants. It's a huge sacrifice, but really why not? I'm a martyr after all! Tehe.

This guy was at the bar last night (the other tall guy from the weekend I first met the Giant). I dodged him. Not that he'd rememember my name, but, ya know, just in case.

Oh, and the poor Colonel. He's new to being written about on this blog. His buddies, our mutual friends, kept teasing him, "How you doin' Mr. Manners?" Hey, worse things I could write. No?

This just in-

2007-03-22T19:08:00.000Z

I'm thrilled to report my Internet research saved me $150!

So, two weeks ago Saturday, I was rushing to get to District Belle's for Shamrockfest. I'd fallen in love with a Bond #9 Scent of Peace sample I got from my coworker. I didn't assume it would be more than $80. Okay, $100 max.

I drove up to the Saks in Friendship Heights (which I'm usually a HUGE fan of) to get the perfume. I didn't look at the price, because clearly I was in a hurry. The sales woman basically took advantage of me and didn't ask if I wanted the 3.3 oz or the 1.7 oz, but that's a whole other issue. I get into my car and realize I didn't get my parking validated. I run back in with the receipt to the accessories counter and then glance at the price, $205! Obviously, I'd have to return it. How can I give peace a chance if it is going to bankrupt me?

I returned it the next day and stopped into Sephora to test out scents. I couldn't find anything I liked as much.

Then, I decided to play around on the Internet to see about getting a discounted bottle from Amazon. No luck. Bond 9 is exclusive to Saks, Bendels, and Harold's. Fab.

BUT, I finally found a couple reviews that said it smelled identical to Anna Sui's Secret Wish fragrance made exclusively for Victoria's Secret (that cost half the price). I went down to the store I HATE near Farrugut (that's how badly I wanted to smell this way) and was disappointed to learn that it isn't available in all stores. No one helped me to locate it anywhere else, of course, so I called other stores in the area myself later. Bummer, no luck.

Took a risk after it all and just ordered the scent from Amazon. $50 for a 2.5 oz bottle. It just arrived. I'm wearing it. It smells identical to Scent of Peace. I like the name better anyways. And the bottle has a glass fairy on the top. Pretty. Woohoo!

Wouldn't it be nice.

2007-03-22T14:00:00.000Z

Happy times together we've been spending. I wish that every kiss was never ending. Wouldn't it be nice. Maybe if we think and wish and hope and pray it might come true. Baby, then there wouldn't be a single thing we couldn't do.

I have 3 music playlists on my Nano: Dinner Party (Sinatra, Rosemary Clooney, Michael Buble, Allman Brothers, Garth Brooks, Mary Chapin Caprenter, the Dixie Chicks), Relaxed (The Carpenters, Marvin Gaye, Stevie Wonder, Phish, Enya), and Pumped Up (all the other random music I like including the Beach Boys, Tupac, Shakira, LL Cool J, Mr. Big, Bon Jovi). I was writing about a historic house's interior style the other day and described it as "eccentric and eclectic" Queen Anne style. I like that categorization. Eccentric and eclectic. I've decided I'll use that describe myself, in general, from now on. "What music do you like, Sam?" "Oh, I am very eccentric and eclectic in my music taste." "What type of fashion do you have?" "Oh, I have very eccentric and eclectic taste in fashion." It could work for so much!

But, on to more important things. Can we discuss these fashion shoots on America's Next Top Model? Last night, I was actually home to watch the show (the Master's agreed to start DVRing it for me. Have I told you how much I love her?).

Is it me or are these photograph themes just getting completely absurd? I'll buy the modeling shoots where they dress as men or hang from harnesses or make nice with a large spider or pose naked. But, lately the show's pictures are closer to being stills from the production of Survivor. I mean, Caridee almost got hypothermia last season when they dunked her in a frozen pool.

So, the purpose of these shoots is to give the girls a professional modeling portfolio to help jump start their career. Last night, the girl posed pretending like they'd been murdered. Um, can you even imagine their go-see with Isaac Mizrahi. "Well, you appear to be a very beautiful and talented model, however, I can't deal with looking at your portfolio. There's entirely too much gore. Perhaps a nice head shot would suffice next time."

I switched the channel during the photo shoot and evaluation (although, I did enjoy the challenge this week where the girls all had to crawl through a laser maze without hitting the lights all while posing. Demeaning, pointless, and fabulous!) The whole theme grossed me out. To make matters worse, the girls each were told the motivation behind their murder- one of the other girls in the house killed them for some reason (ie Whitney was killed because someone was jealous of her big boobs). Considering these models aren't always, um, the most stable people on the planet, do we think it was smart to give them all ideas?

Tyra ended up booting her hotter, younger twin Felicia who was killed, in her picture, for looking like Tyra. I get the principal of having two plus-sized models on the show this season seeing as Tyra just had that whole mess with people saying she was a cow. But, honestly, Felicia would have made a fiercer model than half these chicks.

Tonight, one of the lost boys has a cause! He's throwing a happy hour at Rumors (I know, I know, but it will be okay with all our friends there months before intern season is upon DC). The event starts at 6pm. The first 50 people get a shot. So classy.

Manners

2007-03-21T14:03:00.000Z

I once read that a Libra's ideal world is a place where everyone has perfect manners. Wouldn't that be ideal? And, I'm not talking about knowing which fork to use for salad at 1789. I'm talking about a world where everyone says "thank you." Where boys open doors for girls and hand-written notes are sent to commemorate the receipt of a gift. I'm talking about a world where friends remember your birthday with a call rather than an e-card and help you clean up the dishes (or at least offer) after they have dinner at your house. A world much like the one I've been living in the last couple days. It's ideal.

I don't want to blog too much, but I forgot how much I appreciate good manners!

John (my bf from Bama) yelled at me in NYC for not allowing him to open doors. His mom would literally stand at a door waiting until he or his father opened it. Back in Bama, I got so used to good manners and no PDA that I was shocked by dating in college. And, the first time I saw two people making out on a dance floor, my jaw dropped and I pointed the couple out to Ali. She laughed, "welcome to the Northeast!"

I think when you've had an absence of manners in your life for a long time, it's even more impressive when you find yourself around them again. Someone who opens doors, offers you water, makes sure you're doing okay. Someone who makes sure you get in the door okay before they leave. I find myself smiling just thinking about it. Politeness in DC. It does exist (though the person I'm commenting on is from the South).

Smilin'.

This is how we do it!

2007-03-19T15:14:00.000Z

This is how we do it, all hands are in the air. And wave them from here to there. If you're an o.g. mack or a wanna-be player. You see the hoods been good to me. Ever since I was a lower-case g. But now I'm a Big G. the girls see I got the money. A hundred-dollar bills ya'll.

No apologies from me. I'll admit that I LOVE that song. Love, love, love it! Reminds me of driving to my high school sorority's winter formal in 1996. My date was chugging a flask full of Jack Daniels in his beige Isuzu Trooper as we dashed off to the ball (yeah, it's so lucky I didn't die as a teenager). We were jamming out to Tupac, Montell Jordan, and LL Cool J... in my overly-expensive red velvet gown and long white gloves with my hair in a perfectly designed French twist with sweeping bangs courtesy of my hair dresser. My silk wrapped nails were divinely manicured, and I swung them about singing "This is How We Do It" while tucking the nips of Southern Comfort my date had brought me in my bra (oh, mom, you're reading this now, and I am so sorry for all the trouble I potentially could have cause you! I was so dumb!)

Drinkin' was a huge part of growing up in Bama. I, at about 100 pounds and 16, would get completely trashed on the thickest, straightest alcohol at my Winter Formals. If I couldn't find a chaser, I'd chug completely from the flask or nip or bottle of NyQuil (okay, I wasn't thaaaaaaat bad, really).

I drank far more in high school than I did in college. Truthfully, I'm unable to drink hard alcohol for hours anymore.

St. Patrick's Day always reminds me of how old I am. I tend to spend the day talkin' about Kegs and Eggs at McMurphy's in Amherst rather than waiting in 2 hour lines for 17 cent beer at Rumors (btw, not even for 17 cent beer would I succumb to waiting in line to get into Rumors, like, ever).

However, I have learned that being out on St. Patty's Day evening sober is about as fun as watching the E! True Hollywood Story on Pink twice (um, yeah, I'd forgotten that she died her hair pink after she took the name. She and an African-American guy friend were interested to see what private parts look like on different races so they showed each other. Her friend exclaimed "It's pink." The first time I watched the show, I almost barfed thinking about Pink's privates. And, then yesterday, a second time. Visual: pretty please, leave me now!!! Forever.)

But anyways.

I stayed in Friday night. I assumed drinkin' would be better on a rested soul. The Master and I met up for some Tyson's Corner shopping on Saturday afternoon. She was disappointed to learn that the Tyson's Bloomie's doesn't carry the famous frozen yogurt that Bloomingdale's nationally is known for. I can't eat frozen yogurt on a must-be-flat-to-try-on-clothing stomach, but I obliged to join in the complaining.

At Nordstrom, a flamboyant 40-year-old sales man corrected my pronunciation at the Laura Mercier counter. I walked up as he was unloading 30 boxes of product. (Who's the one that obviously did better in English? I know I'm such a bitch.) I wanted to buy Petal lip gloss. I asked for the Petal Glaze lip gloss. He yelled to a (friendly) saleswoman at the other counter, "Can you get this some Petal Glaaaaahsay?" It's Petal lip glace, apparently. I bit my lip, smirked at him on his designer-jean-covered knees unloading a box of women's makeup.

Saturday night, I intended to meet Jess and crew at Rockets in Chinatown at 9pm. Peter had mentioned going to Lucky Bar with some friends, and I said I'd either stop by quickly before or call them later to meet up. Then the Colonel called and said he too was at Lucky Bar, on the outskirts of the same group as Peter. So, I went to meet them around 8pm. Around 8:40pm, I texted Sassy to let her know I was there instead for right now. She came and met me, and the time disappeared with several glasses of alcohol.

We followed the Lost Boys to some dude's house in Adams Morgan where we rationed his 6 beers and 1oz of vodka. Finally, we convinced the boy to mobilize. The clock read 11:30pm. I called Jess to apologize for the side tracking. I wasn't making it to Chinatown, officially. Drunken St. Patty's Day randomness is always a valid excuse. We ended up at Chief Ikes. I have no idea why. I don't like Chief Ikes. It's not an Irish Bar. There was a $5 cover charge and $8 mini-drinks. I was too drunk to care, and bounced around in boots until I had a blister on two toes.

I started yesterday with a bacon, egg, and cheese bagel followed by buying 3 boxes of Girl Scout Cookies. Glamour is right. You do lose food inhibitions when hungover. Would I stop drinking to appease, nada Big G.

Ari, "How do you have so many actual platonic friendships with hot guys?"

2007-03-16T13:40:00.000Z

Yeah, I have no idea.

Ari, "All the hot guys I'm friends with I've totally made out with at some point."

Yeah, again, no idea. I mean, I've made out with a fair share of my guy friends. But really, the hottest ones, I'm 100% platonic with for one reason or another. And, it's not that I don't find them attractive or that they don't find me attractive. It's just that I'm one of those girls, I suppose.

Like my friend Chris who was in town a couple weeks back. As I said, the guy is ridiculously attractive. But, yeah, there's no sexual chemistry between us. Never has been. Just not the nature of the relationship.

This all came up because a close friend of mine from high school and I recently reconnected on Facebook. Oh, poor poor Jeff. He was my year, and I seriously talked to this boy about everything a 16, 17, 18 year old has to talk about. I cried. I laughed. I kept him up till the wee hours of a school night talking about whether someone was hotter than me. Yeah, poor Jeff.

But, yeah, Jeff was HOT. Like, model hot.

I never saw him as more than a friend though. Honestly, he might have been too hot.

I have no idea why so many hot guys I categorize as platonic right from the beginning. There are so many of my close guy friends who I would think would be the best catch for anyone, who I find perfect, but who I have zero interest in pursuing. Jesse, Gene, Peter, Ralph, Taffy, Jeff, Chris, Graham, Jer, John John, Dave, Michael, etc.

Maybe it's weird of me. Honestly, I think that when I meet a very pretty, very awesome dude these days, I want them in my life. And, I recognize that they'll still around, most likely, a hell of a lot longer if I just incorporate them as friends. Besides which, I do believe you can't force chemistry. I know when I have it with someone right away, well usually. Anytime I've veered, I've been disappointed.

Yeah, I do have many extremely hot, extremely platonic guy friends. I have no idea what that means. A shrink would have a field day with me, I know.

Not-so-Center Stage

2007-03-15T13:57:00.000Z

Having two girls who have seen Center Stage several million times each watch a ballet rehearsal is not a good thing.

"Um, that wasn't like Center Stage at all! Only one of those dudes was even potentially straight!"

Though, Ari and I did see, er, every single muscle on the male dancers' bodies.

Last night, the Jete Society of the Washington Ballet and Junior League offered $15 tickets to come sit in the company's rehearsal for Carmina Burana, which opens at the Kennedy Center March 28th. A beer reception followed.

I'm a chick. I dig ballet. I know, I know, the cliche of it all! One of the New York Ballet's famous principals was there last night. Sitting two people down from us. I was in awe.

They say with watching a ballet company, you should sit back and see who your eye takes you to watch. That's going to be the star. What was interesting about last night was that normally I'm drawn to watching the women. This time though, perhaps because the piece is very male oriented, I was watching the men more. They were incredible. Even in their tight dance everyday clothing... okay, especially in their tight dance everyday clothing.

Carmina Burana is an hour-long piece based on 13th century scripts found to be written by Bavarian monks. They were originally thought to be prayers, but, later, were discovered to be drinking songs. Thus, it was amazing to watch a final "chair" dance where the ballerinas acted out being drunk in dance.

Reminds me of Erica's boyfriend Jeff's response to Picasso at Lapin Agile when we were in college. I was Publicity Director for the show. I made them go. The entire play, though hilarious, is set in a bar. At the end, Jeff remarked, "I need a beer badly. I just spend 2 hours looking at a bar."

But back to le ballet.

I appreciated that the dancers, in their normal dance outfits, tried a bit harder to make the clothing hip and dancer-like. One of the girls had cut off one leg of her pants below the knee so we could watch her footwork more. I also appreciated the over-dramatized choreographer giving direction throughout the rehearsal. We actually felt like we were watching backstage of A Chorus Line.

Ari and I were both surprised that the majority of solos in the show went to Jason Hartley. Looking at him, he certainly didn't appear to be the typical ballerina. He is much more stout and muscular. That was, until he danced. Wow. Couldn't take our eyes off the man. We discussed later in the car how surprised we were that he was as amazing a dancer as he ended up being.

Of the women, Ari said she enjoyed watching them when they were interacting and not dancing. The stunning Kara Cooper looked like a mixture of the two most attractive Rachels in Hollywood (Rachel Bilson and Rachel McAdams). When the girls performed, her flawless perfection made us hate and adore ballerinas. Ari was convinced the other girls didn't like her. "She's hot. But she knows she's hot. And, the other girls totally don't like that she knows she's hot. I think everyone liked the blond one with the weird pant thing though."

Afterwords, we stopped by Safeway so I could pick up some lettuce and Fiber One. Yeah, seeing a bunch of chicks without an ounce of fat on their bodies is definitely bad for the self-esteem.

What goes around comes all the way back around.

2007-03-14T14:30:00.000Z

I'm not a huge Justin Timberlake fan. I don't like that he tries to talk like Eminem, dance like Madonna, dress like Puff Daddy, and sing like Prince. I don't like that he's creating a fashion line of jeans which were shown all over US Weekly on Miss-absolutely-no-hips-built-like-a-dude Cameron Diaz, as if that could sell it to us normal folk. And, I don't particularly find him that attractive.

So, there it is. I think if Justin was one of us (just a slob like one of us, just a stranger on the bus, trying to make his way home) he'd have girls walking away from his too tight pants and calling him possibly gay, beat up for trying to talk like he's from the ghetto, and left alone to his dance moves at Chief Ikes.

Urg, those matching denim outfits he and G.I. Brittany come to mind (and we're questioning her mental stability only now?)

But (cover your ears Greg Allman), I do admit I like "What Goes Around." It's a spiteful little number all about karma. What's not to like?

Everything comes full circle. I've come to that point in DC. I now tend to know someone that everyone new I meet knows. The vagrant in me (uh, my favorite song of all times is still "No One to Run With") wants to split the second this starts happening. Honestly, I'm no good at nesting and routine. I don't know what that means for my possible future life (knock on wood) as a wife and mother, but, when I start saying to my friends on the phone, "Things are good. Boring. But, okay." It's the beginning of the end to my love for a city.

Truth is [yawn] I'm a bit bored. Okay, incredibly bored.

Not that I don't adore my friends, my apartment, my life, etc. But, I'm sick of meeting people who know someone I know. Especially since, most recently, I've been meeting people who know someone I pissed off. I'm entirely too good at being candid sometimes. Most of the time, I'm pretty reserved, but I don't play coy when a challenge presents itself. Damn Libra scales.

So the point of this honest little blog entry, being a bit bored and having things come all the way back around often, it makes a girl actually turn to Justin Timberlake. Now, that's what I call sucking.

The Junior League's hosting a Beer and Ballet event at the Washington Ballet tonight. We watch the rehearsal for their new musical, drink beer, and then meet the dancers. Ari and I are going. Should be cool. Tomorrow, I'm planning on fasting when I, no doubt, feel like a fat whale.

At 21...

2007-03-13T16:13:00.000Z

I was already way over the Amherst bar scene. My friend Marc once told me I"did" college in 2 years. I live in the dorms and rushed a sorority 1st semester Freshman year, moved into Chi O the next semester, lived on the Cape with two girlfriends that summer, got sick of Chi O and moved to the crazy off-campus housing Sophomore year with a fake ID that got me into all the hot bars, and then took summer session the following summer. By Junior year, I was bored of college.

I have an amazing ability to overdose on good times until I find myself bored. Seriously, who else do you know that got bored of New York City?

Anyways, Ali sent out this link to all of our friends yesterday. Halloween 2001. The infamous first Wonder Woman year. Posterity will now remember me. This picture appears on one of our college bars (which I hated by the time I actually turned 21) websites.

I suppose I should just be thankful I didn't end up in the "Bottoms Up" slide show chugging a pitcher... because, of course, I would never do such a thing. Tehe.

Oh, and PS, this guy on the left was named Bryce, if I remember correctly. He was a total dirt bag who spent 4 years trying to get Erica to sleep with him. The first time I funneled a beer was with this guy Aaron my friend tried to set me up with and Bryce in a dorm. Aaron had his zipper down all night at a party afterwords, and I thought it was so tacky I couldn't date him. I was so a bitch in college.

The Fine Art of Contradiction

2007-03-12T14:15:00.000Z

What compliments a Friday evening at the Hirschhorn Museum's After Hours Event? A dress-up like Trailer Trash party Saturday, naturally!

The weekend began when I slipped on my new animal printed, silk, Pradas and a small black mini-dress. I met Suave, BG, and the Pea at the metro, and we walked on the mall from the Smithsonian stop to the Hirschhorn... while drinking disgusting Chardonnay nips of wine that the Pea stashed in her purse.

Adequately buzzed, we were glad to have taken Sassy's advice and gotten there before 8pm with pre-ordered tickets waiting for us at will call. Poor BG was stuck in line for a good 30 minutes, and we were later told Ari's friend couldn't get in because the tickets were sold out.

The cash bar was extraordinarily overpriced, but, of course, that didn't keep me from purchasing four $6 wine tickets. I managed to spill two of them. That's a record for me. Then I met an artist, a sculptor from the area, who showed me some of his amazing metal structures in picture form and gave me his business card. I'm supposed to email him about hanging out with some local artists. I'd so love that.

We left and met the Master and company at the Big Hunt where a birthday party was winding down. I was in Pradas, a mink, and a mini-dress in the Big Hunt and managed about one drink before I checked out for the night.

Saturday morning, I don't want to discuss. I had one Hell of a morning. I gave up about the time that I got to Shamrock Fest and realized I forgot my ATM card and ticket.

But, Suave convinced me to put on my Walmart's best Trailer Trash Throwdown costume which consisted of an overall mini-dress, Dodge trucker's cap, and zebra-print earrings. We met up at Suave's and proceeded to shotgun beers and finish a bottle of wine before cabbing to District Belle and Sassy's place on Capital Hill. From here, I'll just share with you some pictures:

Proper signage is a must at any fancy soiree. A sign in the bathroom told us to turn off the lights so that the girls could "Afferd" rent (since they obviously fictionally flunked spelling).

What a dinner I had! Sassy's friend deep fried some Slim Jims into delicious heart attack bites. Oh, and I forgot how yummy Cheese Whiz on Ritz can be.

Lynard Skynard and Nascar-themed decorations added to the Trailer Trash feel.

It was funny to see how everyone dressed as trashy is defined in their hometown. Southern trash vs. Michigan trash vs. Arizona trash. Above, we attempt to come up with a new ad campaign for Funyuns. "Bring the Carnies to snack time!"

Peter, Ralph, and the Lost Boys met us at the party. I followed them back, in the rain, to get to the Union Station Metro. A detour to Irish Times seemed like a swell idea until I realized I was the only one dressed as Trailer Trash. I'd left the Walmart price tag on my jumper for effect, and in the bathroom, a girl pointed out, "Oh, sweetie, you've left the price tag on your jumper." It wasn't as clear, apparently, that I was in costume. That was a tad embarrassing. So was being groped by about 20 men in the bar. Do I look like the type of girl who'd go home with you at 1am after Shamrock Fest? Oh, yeah, I did.

That's all folks. Hope you had a good weekend too!

Phone call with the Pea at 10pm last night:

2007-03-09T14:57:00.000Z

Me: "From now on, whenever I'm sick or tired and don't feel like going out, just mention RFD to me again."
The Pea: "And, whenever I talk about going back to work after going out, just mention RFD to me too."

Earlier yesterday, gChat with the Pea.

1:39 PM me: i'm going to last about an hour tonight max. i'm so stuffed up.
1:40 PM The Pea: k, want me to just come and do the "late shift" when you wanna go home?
me: um, do you mind coming earlier? think we can just settle everyone in and go on our way
1:42 PM The Pea: nope not at all; let's do it
1:45 PM me: cool. you really have to go back to work?
1:46 PM The Pea: most likely; may get to take it home we'll see
1:47 PM me: wow. sorry.

At 6pm exactly, I got to RFD. I'd gotten 2 frantic messages from the managers saying that if I wasn't there at exactly 6pm, they'd give away my table because The Who were playing at the Verizon center. I didn't realize it was 1975 again. Oops.

Luckily, Sassy, the Pea, Jer, BG, and others were joining. Sassy: "You are a connector! You're like BG, this is JT, he knows so-and-so from college. BG grew up with so-and-so too."

Sitting at the table facing the doorway, I saw the Giant walk in. Since the first time I met the Giant, I don't think I've actually ever bumped into him. Though, RFD was a change of scenery for both of us. The Giant: "I read your blog now. It's not weird now since I'm not on it." I don't want to lose a reader, so all I'll say, I concur that I am pretty stable when it comes to handling guys I dated lightly. I honestly like the Giant as a person, and at no point did I feel like he was a jerk to me. Truthfully, it was nice to run into him. I have absolutely no animosity or anxiety or malice towards him.

Which, for the record, leads me to believe that when I do feel that way about someone, I must trust myself. Those people must have hurt me in someway.

So, I'd downed 3 packets of Theraflu, 1 Claritin-D 24 hour, and 2 Sudafed Sinus Headaches throughout the day. I was loopy. Then, I had 2 Raspberry Stolis and Sprite. I wasn't drunk, but I was low on the filtering. Talking to a girl and her boyfriend from Marietta, GA who I adore (and know common people from camp days), they mentioned hooking me up with one of their friends. "Yay! Of course!" I said. The boyfriend and I were at camp at the same time, but I vaguely remember him. Anyways, we get to talking, and it's brought up where he went to college. Then, I mention that the Producer went there too. And, of course, they know each other. I make a face. Of course, I'm stuck explaining what the face was about.

"So, you went on 3 dates with him, and then he never called?"
"No, no, we were friends were a while. We went to get drinks after I ended things with APK. Then it developed into something for 2 months or something. Spent New Year's Eve with him actually. Then it blew up. He was a shithead."
"Yeah, he's like that with girls. Not very nice to them. My impression is that he's not really looking for anything anytime soon."
"Yeah. Pretty much."
Me, in my head, [Crap. Why'd that conversation just take place? I really like this dude's girlfriend. Hoping to be friends with her. Crap.]

Luckily, the conversation was able to change directions at that point. WTF?

Oh, and the guy at the cluster who knew my childhood friend from Bama (and was adorable) caught all of this... so, you know it's getting back to that friend that he met a loopy, unfiltered, boy-dramatic me.

Around 9pm, we all paid our tabs and left. I was in bed by 9:30pm. Big weekend ahead. Hirshhorn After Hours Event tonight, Shamrock Fest tomorrow, Trailer Trash Throw down tomorrow night. Hopefully, I won't be saying to the Pea, "anytime I am sick and have plans, tell me to stay in and reference Shamrock Fest weekend." Urg.

Two other things-

2007-03-08T20:18:00.000Z

Re: the Conjoined twins who are now driving. A special was on TV last night about them for 2 hours.

Kate: Have you seen this? I'm so fascinated by these two.
Me: Not really. Remember hearing about it.
Kate: They're driving now.
Me: So what all do they share?
Kate: They have separate hearts and lungs, but they each control one arm and one leg and share private parts.
Me: What about school?
Kate: They turn in math projects together, but do English separately.
Kate's friend: Imagine if they don't like one another's friends.
Me: They're pretty much quarantined to a job in a freak show somewhere someday. I mean, not that anyone would want to have sex with them, but what do they do?
Kate's friend: They're only 16. They've not gotten around to that yet.
Kate: Someone would want to have sex with them.
Me: Yuck.
Kate's friend: It'd be sort of like a threesome, but easier to organize.

Regarding the Pussycat Dolls Present the Search for the Next Doll:

OMG! Seriously! So, if you didn't see it last night, half the girls had this horrible stomach virus. The other half didn't. #1 the CW showed entirely too many throwing up scenes so you're lucky. #2 they had the girls on IV's behind the stage and made them perform. "If the Pussycat Dolls are sick and set to perform, they still perform." If the Pussycat Dolls are on IVs, I seriously doubt they're performing that night. It was so wrong. I'm not watching the show anymore because I disapprove (okay, and because it sucked). I've been over this crap since O-Town. I didn't watch Left Eye get replaced, so can we just stop.

And, I don't wish my girlfriend was hot like them. Sorry, had to be said.

Things I never thought I'd say:

2007-03-08T14:46:00.001Z

At Walmart with District Belle last night (checking frame prices for A Night of Mystique's photo raffle prizes, and buying costumes and prizes for District Belle and Sassy's Trailer Trash party Saturday night):

"Walmart has nothing ultra-tacky! What's going on?"
"Wait, do you like the camouflage fitted tee with no writing on it or the camouflage fitted tee with 'Look at me!' better?"
"Can you grab me this mini-overall jumper in a size bigger? I know it won't be as short, but I'd feel better."
"Oh no, I like the Corona trucker hat much better than the 'I Love Twinkies' one!"
"Um, I don't know. The pink bra definitely has more lace, but I like the rainbow one better. It'd probably show through your shirt better too."
"These girl hats are entirely too girly. I want a masculine one. Ooooh, look, they have a camouflaged one with 'Dodge' on it. I'm so getting this!"
"Woah $1.89! Dude, Spam's expensive! You should just get the generic Sam's brand. It's only $1."
"You could just use puffy paints to write 'I Love Dale' on your shirt, right? Oh, yeah, but maybe if you want the writing to show up in pictures you should use iron on glitter letters. I agree."
"Excuse me, do you know where we could find the massive clearance section and also fly swatters?"
"Wait, they don't sell Wet & Wild makeup here anymore? What's up with that?"
"Shania Twain's perfume is $9. That's so expensive!"
"$4 for Lee Press On Nails. When did they go up in price?"
"Where are the neon scrunchies? What'd they stop making them? What about these glitter elastics? There's a couple fuchsia and neon green ones."
"OMG! Look at this Nascar-themed Easter basket. This thing rocks!"
"Hmmm. Johnny Cash isn't really something you'd listen to in a Trailer Park. I think Kid Rock would work better. Too bad they don't have any Kid Rock-in-concert $1 DVDs."
"I'd buy the Star or the Enquirer or TV Guide or something too. Oh wait, $3 for them? What on earth?"

As we were leaving, District Belle, "Wait, an 'only the roots' brush-on hair color set. $3.95. That's perfect. Damn it. Should I go get it?"

I am recovering

2007-03-07T17:48:00.000Z

#1 from the longest headache in history! I've had it since Friday. One more day of this and my head is going in an oven.

#2 dinner last night with Vive, the Pea, the Master, Suave, and Jen at Nooshie. Getting my Pad Thai (so yummy and greasy there, the way it should be!) to go, I remarked "I don't think I've ever re-heated Pad Thai. I don't know why I always feel the need to get it to go." None the less, half of it is sitting in my fridge awaiting my disposal of it next week when I remember it's still in there. Pad Thai's just not good re-heated.

#3 the weirdest dream on record thus far. Yesterday walking home, an Ambassador cab (number 108, don't ask why I remember that) in lime green drove by me. I thought it was funny. Also, Suave remarked on the mouse traps still all over my house the other day. "Don't worry," I said. "The mouse died. In my room. My landlord just hasn't come to pick up the tracks yet." Then, I proceeded to bump into one of the sticky ones and get it stuck to my pant leg. A couple pulls and curse words, and I got it off with a minimal rip in my favorite sweat pants. Oh, and the Tricon Construction strike is still happening on N Street every morning as it has been for the last 3 months. I have to walk in the street to get to work. It's irritating. Keep meaning to research what the fight is about.

So, the dream last night. I was walking down the street and all the cabs were lime green. I stopped and asked Angelina (who magically appeared in my dream apparently visiting DC from NYC). She told me that CNN Breaking News had sent out something earlier saying all cabs in DC must be lime green from now on. Then, a huge blow-up rat from the Tricon Construction Strike was parked in the middle of Dupont Circle where the fountain usually stands. All these rats and mice were lined up facing it. Angelina said we should just walk through the circle (there was no way to walk around the circle in my dream). I was freaked out. She said if we sprayed them with soda they'd move away. So, we're walking through and spraying the rats with soda. But, I run out. She's way ahead of me. Suddenly, all the rats start attacking me, and I can't get up. I'm stuck to some sticky trap.

I woke up in a cold sweat.

I don't even want to know what the dream dictionary would have to say about the meaning of that!

Muses and Magic

2007-03-06T16:39:00.000Z

Evite I sent out for last night:

I figured we should have a night to share A Night of Mystique costumes, decide on magic tricks, and more. Also, I just got Warhol's Poor Little Rich Girl and Ciao! Manhattan on DVD. So, how about I cook us all a nice big pasta dinner, and we catch up on the event while watching Edie's demise? Hope ya'll can join! -Sam

Thus, the Master, District Belle, Suave, Vive, Jer, UL, Noah, and Dylan, gathered at my house last night for some pasta and some seriously boring footage of Edie naked shot with a blurred camera lense. We all chose a magic trick to learn. Jer slipped on his white gloves with his wand and got into tapping the top of a ball trick. I tried on my sequin outfit and wig for everyone. The Master performed two quick camp skits for all of us. We laughed like we were 10, and then ate chocolate creme pie.

I have a feeling I'll be too drunk doing my trick at the party and end up showing people HOW to do it instead.

Today's emails were in response to Suave suggesting we have food and non-alcoholic beverages available too. I found a Harry Potter party suggestion to include a potion bar. I've decided I'm okay with anything so long as it gets a cute "mystical" name.

Trying to explain the party to someone, I remarked, "basically, this is supposed to look like what I'm picturing in my head. It's a scary place, my head, I know."

My heart could take a chance.

2007-03-05T14:52:00.000Z

But my two feet can’t find a way. You think that I could muster up a little soft, shoop devil sway. But I don’t feel like dancin’. No sir, no dancin’ today.

The Pea grew up in Lexington, KY with Babydaddy from Scissor Sisters, so last night she got Vive and I free tickets to the totally fab (and totally sold out) show at 930 Club.

The Pea, "yeah, Scott's stage name is Babydaddy. But, we're supposed to refer to him as Babydaddy when we talk to him now. Even if it's not on stage. I mean, I suppose it must be traumatic growing up gay in Lexington."

In the cab ride over, Vive asks, "So this Scott/ Babydaddy guy, is he hot?" The Pea and I snicker.

Me to Vive and the Pea, "All these beautiful men all over the place, and 95% of them are gay."

The Pea, while leaving the bathroom, "no line for the girls room, yet a massive wrap-around line for the men's. Guess we're at, like, a Scissor Sisters concert."

The band was colorfully dressed (Jake Shears wore a Miami Vice-style white, fitted suit with paint splashes all over it), overly spastic in their dance moves, and had images of breasts flashing behind them.

Ana Matronic on the Cabaret Laws in NYC: (if Giulani does to the country what he did to NYC) "There are no dancing signs in bars all over the city. Where's Kevin Bacon when you need him?"

Ana and Jake Shears on a letter they got from a mother in Sydney after one of their concerts. "She didn't like that we used bad words in our songs. Um, what do you expect going to see the concert of a band named not only after a term for lesbians, but after a lesbian sexual position!"

Oh, and the dancing and music was fabulous too. So Studio 54!

I had a headache the rest of the weekend. I went to bed with it Friday night. Woke up with it Saturday. Swallowed a Claritin-D and several Advil with the girls at Spices before Adas Israel's pre-Purim services wine and cheese reception. Brought it back by drinking 4 glasses of wine and then sitting in an overly heated, extra bright service for 30 minutes, and then made myself nauseous commuting alone down to Southeast to meet Sassy and District Belle for Sassy's birthday drinks at Finn MacCool's (which rocks with a live band and totally fun atmosphere).

I'd never been to that strip of bars on 8th St. SE even though District Belle and Sassy talk about "the Mug" regularly. I was definitely impressed by the actual scene along the strip seeing as my only trip to that area was to Backstage, Inc. during the middle of the day. Though, I'm sure any area of DC is a little creepy during the middle of a winter work day. I'll definitely have to go back once my headache is gone. My cab back to Dupont was only $8.80. Same cost for me as coming from Adams Morgan. Have I mentioned that I hate the DC zone system?

Now, I feel like dancin'. Unfortunately, I've got work. Blah.

Disconnect

2007-03-02T15:01:00.000Z

I often feel like my only purpose in life is to bring people together. I know that's morbid and depressing and whatever else, but I don't necessarily mean it as a bad thing.

The weekend back in October when I went to visit the NYC crew made me feel a bit like the observer in my own life. Jenny and District Belle went out together. I've know Jenny since I was 5. I met District Belle through my JLW New Member group. They're both from Bama, and thus clicked immediately. Jenny'd been out with me and Eye (who I met through my first Shabbat Cluster) and met Eye's friend from college Jack Black. Jack and Jenny hit it off and thus the Saturday night I was in NYC, District Belle and Jenny went to meet Jack Black out. Jack was with Eye and crew, but also with Eye's other friend from college who lives with Kate's good friend. So, District Belle met my roommate and one of my closer friends (Eye) with me elsewhere.

That's just one of many stories. I'd say 75% of the time, I feel my purpose is purely to combine people. JK is the only person I know who does this similarly. Lives her life by throwing oil and water together convinced it will mix this time around.

Telling this to Jer last night, he mentioned The Tipping Point, which, I'm embarrassed to say, I've never actually read (though Susie Salmon just inhabited Ruth's body and had sex with Ray in the last two chapters of my current book, The Lovely Bones. So I'm due for a new book tomorrow). Jer said that JK and I are what comes to mind when he thinks of "Connectors."

I don't know why that settled my stomach the way it did, but it worked better than ginger ale and saltines. Often times I feel left out when friends I've introduced plan things without me. It makes me feel inconsequential and removed from the life I've created. I was trying to explain it to AM a while back. "Do you ever feel like you're watching your actions from outside your body? Like, you're merely an observer in your own life?" A bit like Kate Winslet in The Holiday being told that she's playing the best friend in her own life when she should play the protagonist.

I tried to think about last night's happy hour at the Science Club. Sassy, my friend from JLW, chatting with BG, my friend from Bama, while JK and AM chatted up the Master. That JL, my friend from high school, and Angelina, my friend from Conde, will be meeting for a drink soon in NYC without me. And, I tried to enjoy the fact that I can bring everyone I like together if I want. I can have everyone I care about in one place. Not that many people can do this, and I'm happy I'm able.

So, I'm not an observer. I'm a connector. I can deal with that. I think.

Forwards from the guys I knew in back in Bama:

2007-03-01T14:57:00.000Z

On 2/21/07, Gene wrote:

this is way to good to not pass along.....

Porn DVD screams prompt sword 'rescue' OCONOMOWOC, Wis. (AP) --

A man says he broke into an apartment with a cavalry sword because he thought he heard a woman being raped, but the sound actually was from a pornographic movie his upstairs neighbor was watching.

"Now I feel stupid," said James Van Iveren, who has been charged in the case. "This really is nothing, nothing but a mistake."

According to a criminal complaint, the neighbor told police that Van Iveren pounded on the door and kicked it open without warning Feb. 12, damaging the frame and lock.

"Where is she?" Van Iveren demanded, thrusting the sword at the neighbor, the complaint said. "Where is she?" The neighbor told police Van Iveren became increasingly aggressive as he repeated the question, insisting that he had heard a woman being raped.

The complaint said that, with the sword pointed at him, the neighbor led Van Iveren throughout the apartment, opening closet doors to prove he was alone. The neighbor later played for police the part of the DVD he believed Van Iveren heard downstairs.

Van Iveren, 39, of Oconomowoc, was charged with criminal trespass, criminal damage and disorderly conduct, all while using a dangerous weapon, and is due in court March 5. Together, the misdemeanor counts carry a maximum sentence of 33 months in jail.

Van Iveren said Tuesday that he heard a woman "screaming for help," grabbed the sword, bounded up the stairs, kicked in the apartment door and confronted the man who lived there."I intended to hold it behind my back and knock. But I froze and instead, what happened happened," he told the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel.

Contesting his neighbor's account, Van Iveren said he didn't look anywhere in the apartment except the front room, and that he never threatened the neighbor with the sword."I had the sword extended. But that was all," he said.

Van Iveren, who lives with his mother in the downstairs apartment, said he did not call police when he heard the noises because he does not have a telephone. He said he barely knew the upstairs tenant.

Police seized Van Iveren's sword, which he said was a family heirloom.

I wonder how awkward the conversation was between the neighbor who was watching the porn and the police.

On 2/28/07, Martin wrote:

I wonder how awkward the conversation was between the neighbor who was watching the porn and the police.

Neighbor: "So, uh, yeah. I was just watching a DVD too loud."

Police: "What's the name of the DVD? Can you give it to us? We need to view it as evidence."

Neighbor: "It's called My Cousin Vinny II: Forced Sodomy. Here it is. Please keep it as long as you need. That saber dude really freaked me out, so I won't be beating it to this anytime soon."

Police: "Uh, thanks. We'll be in touch."

The funniest part of the response is that Martin clearly came up with the name and plot of a fake movie. Out of the blue. I think....

"You know, Aphrodite slept with Ares in one myth? That's Venus and Mars getting hot and heavy."

2007-02-28T19:29:00.000Z

On the many loves of Aphrodite: Perhaps the most notorious of these legends is of her affair with the war god Ares. According to the myth, Aphrodite was married to the god of smiths, Hephaistos. However, the golden goddess apparently tended to abandon poor Hephaistos as soon as his burly back was turned, for on many occasions she was to be found in the arms of her lover (one consequence of this illicit affair is included in the Odyssey and recounted in the Mythography page devoted to Ares). As a result of these romantic interludes, Aphrodite bore three children to Ares: Deimos ("terror"), Phobos ("fear"), and a daughter named Harmonia ("concord"). More here.

I've always been a fan of mythology. Of religion. Of long jokes. Of fiction. Of astrology. Of anything that tells a story. It's a weird fascination of mine. And, I do actually think in stories. For example, often when I'm trying to move on from a bad situation, I'll think about Lot's wife looking back at Sodom and Gomorrah and turning into a pillar of salt. Don't look back. It's gone. The bad is behind you.

And religion, I like religion in general. All religions are fascinating to me. I read a book on Baha'i in college, because Erica was raised practicing it. I always got an A in religion at my Episcopalian school. I love sitting in churches, synagogues, temples, whatever. Mainly, I like the sermons. How, it always seems, the portion of whatever scripture a religion uses seems to teach you something about your current place in life.

And astrology, by direct correlation, has each sign connected to gods from mythology. So, I like to recall why certain signs get along based on how their ruling gods interacted in mythology.

I know, its all a bit weird. In my defense, my father and uncles are story tellers.

Regardless, I adore decoding the mystery behind a Free Will Astrology horoscope. I have Tarot.com send me my daily horoscope in email. And, I read it every morning before I get to work. There's a "daily Tarot Card" generically included for all signs. A couple of days ago, I got the Magician card. I don't read those details, but the card was pretty a perfect to use as an image for my planning in A Night of Mystique.

I set up the website page for Anastasia, the Tarot Card Reader who will be part of the talent at the event. I used the Magician card image as a picture on the page. When I showed her the link, she mentioned she liked the card. I explained how I came to find that card. Here's something interesting I got back from her.

P.S. -- The fact that you got the Magician is very appropriate because it says that you're putting your creative abilities into action to yield great results. (Good news for Noah Cuttler!)

Just thought that was interesting.

My Evening Yesterday

2007-02-27T14:59:00.000Z

5pm: I leave work.

5:15pm: Arrive home. Move trash bins curbside cursing upstairs neighbors for stuffing cardboard boxes that contained their new Target furniture, apparently, making the bins overflow with trash.

5:20pm: I scrub my hands repeatedly.

5:30pm: After a quick change, I decide to deal with the hideous 23rd Street traffic to get to SFW in Arlington for Dietz & Watson Turkey Pastrami (which is strangely better than the Boar's Head version at Harris Teeter and half the price). I was craving it.

6pm: I sit in traffic on 22nd and M where two police cars with lights on are parked on the side of the road. A cop is directing traffic. I make my way up to N Street where another light is out. I notice that the Embassy Suites and Marriott are completely dark.

6:15pm: I walk into my house to find that no lights work. I scavenge my utility container to find the massive flashlight I'd bought after the Northeast Blackout in 2003.

6:30pm: I call 311. "Hi. I have a power outage that appears to be a large blackout in NW DC. There are police officers directing traffic. Could you tell me what's going on?" "There's a power outage." "Yes, I'm aware. Is there any information on why or when this will be resolved? Should I find somewhere to go stay for the night?" "It's a power outage. Do you want to be connected to Pepco?" "Are they open 24 hours?" "Yes." "Okay."

6:35pm: "Yes." "Um, is this Pepco?" "Yes." "I have a power outage at my house that appears to be a neighborhood outage. The police are directing traffic. Could you give me info on the problem and when it will be resolved?" "How did you get this number?" "Um, 311 transferred me." "Well, this is the wrong number." "Is this Pepco?" "Yes. You need to call a different number." "Okay, do you have that number?" "Yes. It's..." "Can you transfer me? I don't have a pen available as my house is dark." "No." "Um, okay. Well, let me find a pen." "The number is..." "I need to find a pen. You're going to have to wait a second." "The number is..." "Stop. What is your full name?" "Do you have a pen?" "Yes, now I have a pen." "The number is..." Click.

6:40pm: I'd written the number on a paper towel. A drop of melted snow comes down from the balcony above me. I squint to read what I just wrote as it's now been smudged. After getting a french operator when I dialed 1-877-797-2662, I realize the number is 1-877-737-2662. "Please enter your 10 digit Pepco account number to report an outage." I push zero. "I'm sorry, the number you pushed is not a valid entry." I enter a random 10 digit number with the hopes of being connected to customer service. "That number is not valid. Please reenter your account number." I hang up.

6:45pm: I call 311. I accidentally push the number 2 and am told that my call may be recorded in Spanish. "Hi. I called about 20 minutes ago. You transferred me to the wrong person at Pepco. They can't give me any information on the power outage. Do you have information yet?" I am told that I am being transferred to an English dispatcher. I repeat the same thing. "No. We have no information." Click.

6:55pm: I call 311 back. "I was just hung up on." Then I repeat my story. "I can transfer you to the Police Department's Public Alert department." "Thanks."

7pm: "District of Columbia Police." "Hi." I repeat the facts. "How did you get this number?" "311 transferred me." "Well, this is the Police Press Office." "Um, okay. And suggestions?" "I live in Maryland, but at the bottom of your bill in Maryland there's a number to call to get an estimated time of when power will be restored." "Do you have Pepco?" "Yes. Hold on, let me check on-line and see what I can find for you." "Thank you!" "Okay, you should call this number..." It was the same number given to me by the guy at Pepco 20 minutes earlier.

7:15pm: I dig through my mail sorter in the dark to hopefully find a Pepco bill Kate hadn't retrieved yet. I am able to find one and call the automated number. I enter the account number and confirm my address "Only the house number in your address will be stated for security reasons. Please confirm this information." "Someone will come by your house by February 27th at 3am." "Would you like a call when the power is restored?" Yes. "Is this your number?" No. I entered my number instead of Kate's. "Someone will call you to confirm that your power has been restored."

7:20pm: Out of curiosity, I call the Government closing alert number. I hear that the severe weather storm warning was released at 3am on February 26th.

7:30pm: I call the Master to see if she has power a block away from me. I get her voicemail. I then call Suave, Vive, Peter and the Pea to see if they are home. I realize the book I'm reading currently is about a murder and not something I'm content reading under candle light alone in my apartment.

7:35pm: I hear my neighbor come in. I pop my head out the door. "We have no power. I called though. They're completely unhelpful. I did put in my number to be called when it's restored, so I'll let you know." "Thanks. Do you need candles or anything?" "No, thanks, I have plenty. I'm a single girl. Who doesn't?" "Yeah. I just got a sandwich at Cosi. Now, I'm going upstairs to have a romantic dinner under candlelight for one." "Oh yeah, I have sandwich meat I just bought. I can make a sandwich." "Yeah, glad I got this from Cosi." "Cool, well, let me know if you need anything." "Thanks. You too."

7:40pm: I call my mother. "Could you Google 'Power outage in DC' to see if there's any current info up?" "Yeah. No, nothing is showing up."

7:45pm: I gather all my candles and light them around my room. I stick my Nano headphones in my ears and set-up to paint something. Eye calls. She's outside. "Are you home? All the lights are out. Do you have candles on?" We had to exchange bags. She had mine, and I had hers from a couple weeks ago. We chat for a bit.
8pm: "Thanks for stopping by my seance." She laughs.

8:30pm: Vive calls. She fell asleep at 6:30pm. "I'm so sick." "Oh no! Well, I was going to see if I could come by, but now I've been hanging out in the dark, and it's not so bad." I hang up and proceed to jump at my own shadow. Okay, it was sort of scary.

8:45pm: The Master calls. She does have power a block from me. I get ready to go over to her house. What can I say? I'm a baby when it comes to being alone in the dark.

9pm: I am over at the Master's place. I have brought my cell phone to charge, and am turning on my laptop. I sign into GMail to find the following Alerts from DC. Geniuses. Because, yes, if we have no power, we definitely have internet access? And, it took them 4 1/2 hours to send anything out! "Still being worked on" below, implies they e-mailed beforehand. They never did.

Utility Alert
Feb 26 10:22 PM(12 hours ago)

Update / Pepco reports the problem is still being worked on and restoration time at 12 midnight.

Utility Alert
11:31 pm (11 hours ago)
PEPCO reports all power restored at 2314 hours.

Yeah, so that was my night. I went to bed at 12pm.

Yes, I've become that person.

2007-02-26T14:41:00.000Z

I'm sorry, but it had to be said.

To: Customer Service @ LaRedoute

I just opened your most recent catalogue featuring the Spring 2007 collection and was disgusted to see the model who appears on pages 2 through 9. This model is clearly anorexic and her extreme weight issues, amidst the recent ban of underweight models in Europe, is distasteful and repulsive on your company's part. The least of your worries is that a normal sized woman (I'm a size 4 or 6) will turn their noses up at clothing being advertised on someone waif thin as evident by Sarah Jessica Parker's failure as a Gap model. I would suggest you set higher standards for displaying your clothing before you lose customers. I certainly will not be purchasing anything from your company.

The canned response I received:

Dear Customer:

My name is Carri Tibke. I will be helping you with your issue today. Thank you for your email. We appreciate your letter expressing your feelings on the models we use in our catalogs. In an effort to uphold customer satisfaction we welcome your feedback and will forward to the appropriate departments.

Please accept our apologies if you have been inconvenienced.

Experience la différence
http://www.us.redoute.com

Sincerely,
Carri Tibke
La Redoute.com Support Team

Although, in all honesty, it's not like I've ever ordered anything from the catalogue. Cheaply made and sort of trashy. But still, they send me these catalogues daily. I'd appreciate models without heroin problems.

Okay, this just almost made me throw up...

2007-02-25T00:30:00.000Z

I'm seriously sick to my stomach...

Bama folk at the 18th Amendment

2007-02-23T15:41:00.000Z

The 2nd Annual Heart of Dixie Happy Hour was last night at the 18th Amendment. Organized by the National Capital Chapter of the University of Alabama Alumni Association, the Metro Washington Auburn Club and the Alabama State Society. An open drink and food tab lasted until 8pm, so that was quite nice!

Sassy and AM met me there. I left around 8pm and headed home. Early morning today.

In other news, I'm going out for drinks with District Belle's good friend. He's a nice, attractive man I met Tuesday night. I especially enjoyed that he took the initiative to get my number from District Belle the day after he met me, e-mail me, and schedule a time to meet up right away. The only side note is that he's 40. I've gone on a date with a 36-year-old, but I have to say 40 is definitely the oldest. If he's as interesting as he seems, it really shouldn't be an issue. It does bring me back to the thoughts I had a while back when a girl Jenny and I grew up with married a 56-year-old. We're 27. We're in the age range, officially, to be politically correct arm candy. It's all a bit new and strange to me. Somedays I wake up thinking I'm in my childhood bedroom still. Of course, it's been 9 years since then. I'm all grown up.

And, in other news, this weekend will be fun! There's a wear all black and celebrate Johnny Cash's birthday party on Saturday night and a cocktail attire Oscar's bash at Left Bank on Sunday night. I'll report back in Monday.

Have a nice weekend!

Tid Bits

2007-02-22T15:32:00.000Z

Conflict in the Congo

Vive and I attended the HIAS & DCJCC's joint program last night on the Conflict in the Congo. To quote the invitation, "The conflict in the Democratic Republic of Congo has claimed 4 million lives over the past 8 years... The Victims of a Forgotten War. Yet as the death toll rises, the world continues to respond with indifference and inaction. We all carry a piece of the Congo with us every day. Help us raise awareness of this deadly conflict by learning about what's happening in the Congo and find out how we're all connected to this war-torn country."

Panelists included the former Director of HIAS Kenya, Executive Director of the Friends of the Congo, and an Activist from the Congo.

Basically, the purpose of the event was to raise awareness about the issues occurring in the DRC. Lobbying and letter writing to Senators won't help until the constituency cares. With the media concentrating only on Darfur lately, it is even more impossible for the Congo to get the support it needs at this time. A graphic movie and even more graphic story about the abuse of women in the DRC helped highlight the tragedies (though, Vive almost threw up listening to one story about a woman's leg being chopped off and fed to her children).

More than 1,000 Congolese die every day. Because the Congo river holds every element in the periodic table (including 70+% of the world's uranium), the DRC could be a much richer country. Bad government contracts with major companies have led to major exploitation of the resources in the Congo. Specifically, the DRC has the following natural resources: cobalt, copper, cadmium, petroleum, industrial and gem diamonds, gold, silver, zinc, manganese, tin, germanium, uranium, radium, bauxite, iron ore, coal, hydro power, timber.

The first nuclear bomb was created from uranium found in the Congo. As the Activist, Nita Evele, said last night (amidst fear tactics Vive and I were put off by, actually) "If you don't care about the lives and safety of the people in the DRC, think about the fact that uranium is being sold to Iran and other countries without being monitored. A man was caught trafficking some to Saddam Hussein a while ago. That should make you care about what's going on in the DRC."

The goal of the group is to get the issues on the front page of newspapers now. Then, they can properly petition for help and change from global leaders.

iTap English on the Razr...

has waaaaaaaay more issues that T9 Word on my old phone. The set words don't even make sense half the time. I think they got iTap Spanish mixed with iTap English. Lasy bums at Motorola. For example:

If I type in 469, I'm looking to write "How." I get "Hoy." Because hoy is such a common thing for people to type in text?

If I type in 669, I'm looking to write "Now." I get "Moz."

If I type in 84373, I'm looking to write "There." I get "Viere."

If I type in 668, I looking to write "Not." I get "Nov."

I'll save you the rest of the issues. Seriously though, someone needs to be fired from the programming desk at Motorola. (Update: Blogger spell check just suggested alternate words for every single one of these. WTF?)

Guy with the Striped Shirt

Vive brought me to Kramer Books last night after the Conflict in Congo event to see a book she thought was hysterical. It was pretty damn funny. Called Look at My Striped Shirt!: Confessions of the People You Love to Hate. I'd highly recommend it. From the back of the book:

Target. Observe. Ridicule.

You run into them every day—the striped-shirt guy, the karaoke master, the dude with a pencil-thin beard, the guy who won’t shut up about his fantasy football team—characters who annoy, irritate, and incense us all.

Based on the wildly popular essay on ThePhatPhree.com by Mike Polk, this book is a look inside the heads of the most infuriating douchebags on Earth. It’s the best of ThePhatPhree.com plus more than fifty all-new, hilarious pieces written by some of your favorite writers from this site.

Everyone’s (Least) Favorite, The Striped-Shirt Guy …I will valet tonight! I will treat the valet with contempt and make sure that he knows that I am superior to him. I will tell him, “Take it easy on the brakes, champ”! When I do not hook up with a girl at the club, I will say that the place is “full of skanks” and wait in line at another bar, only to strike out again!

Your “Cool” High School Teacher …Here are some things I allow in my class that other teachers don’t: eating, drinking,swearing, dancing, smoking, fighting, cell phones, Texas hold ’em, iPods, and sex. Like my Goo Goo Dolls tee? Anyone else here down with the Dolls? No? Me either. I’m just wearing it as a goof.

The Guy with Amazing Taste in Music …Personally, I haven’t listened to the radio in fifteen years. If you have ever heard a band on the radio, then I can assure you, I am not a fan. I stopped listening to American music about ten years ago.

Yawn. The entire city seems out of Red Bull. What's a girl to do??? I'm going to have to splurge on a Grande Latte. Don't think badly of me.

Pictures from last night I wanted to share-

2007-02-21T20:50:00.000Z

District Belle and I being sexy with the beads. Don't you wish you were those beads?

District Belle, Sassy, and I showing off our pink phones in a variety of colors. You know how it is when you just know you're supposed to be friends with certain people, tehe.

Mardi Gras in NOVA

2007-02-21T15:35:00.000Z

All hail to the Beatles? The King of the Krewe of Louisiana was named Paul McCartney. Was it my two glasses of wine from Harry's Tap Room (who, by the way, ends a happy hour at 6pm?), or is the funniest thing to you too?

I met Sassy, District Belle, and I-66 at Harry's just after 6pm for some pre-drinkin'. After I-66 left, we were joined by two other girls. two middle-aged men were seated next to our group at the bar and wrapped in beads. I noticed that District Belle and Molly both had beads on from prior Mardi Gras celebrations. "Hi. Would it be possible to bother ya'll for 3 beads? Two of us have them, but three of us are bead-less." I assumed since they were older and married (wedding rings), they'd be more polite. "Well, what will you do for the beads?" I was taken for a second. Yuck. "Um, well, I'm from Mobile where Mardi Gras originated. We don't do anything for beads down there." "Well," the dirtier of the two men smiled, "I've been to Mardi Gras in New Orleans, and I know there are girls willing to do things for these beads." We all had our noses scrunched up trying to get out of the conversation. "Well, you should keep your beads. I'm sure you're bound to find someone tonight who wants them that badly." We exited as quickly as possible. Yuck yuck double yuck!

We stopped at Starbucks so a couple of the gals could spike coffees with Bailey's they'd brought along. Then, we headed to Wilson Boulevard for the Clarendon parade.

I guess I'm a Mardi Gras snob. Beads suck. I want moon pies and candy and fancy music. The scaled-down parade wasn't bad, though it was more like an advertisement for local Clarendon bars. Whitlow's, Iota, and more hosted makeshift floats created out of open bed trucks. We ended up catching a ton of beads before it started to rain, then we stepped back under the Whole Foods awning to watch the rest of the parade.

We ended up covered in beads and headed to Whitlow's for a post-parade celebration. Though there was a live band, the crowd seemed to be reserved. Considering that it was a Tuesday night and raining out, it was easy to see why the energy was lower than I'd hoped. Around 10pm, I hopped on the Metro and returned to DC. Luckily, I'd stored away a moon pie in my fridge. An excellent dinner for Fat Tuesday indeed.

Hope you got it all out of your system before lent. Does anyone else who's not Catholic, like me, feel a bit guilty not abstaining from something during lent? Just wondering.

No, I will not show you my breasts for plastic beads!

2007-02-20T15:43:00.000Z

Mine, sleaze bags out there, are reserved for pearls and diamonds only. I'm a Mobile, Alabama girl. Mardi Gras originated in my city. Oh, yes sir, that it did.

"Joe Cain", to quote Slow Moses (the Mobile-based band from my high school days), is "rollin' in his grave. He is rollin' Joe Cain. Joe Cain is turning over in his grave. How many people in New Orleans have even heard his name?" Below is John John dressed up to ride in a parade in Mobile with his father yesterday. Is it normal that the boy can actually still look hot in a clown wig and mask?

Anyways.

Mardi Gras originated in Mobile, Alabama. Joe Cain is credited with bringing back the crazieness of Mardi Gras to the lower American states around Civil War times. Here's the scoop from Wikipedia.

Joseph Stillwell Cain, Jr. (Joe Cain) (October 10, 1832 – April 17, 1904) is largely credited with the rebirth of Mardi Gras celebrations in Mobile, Alabama. In 1866, following the Civil War and while Mobile was still under Union occupation, Joe Cain paraded through the streets of Mobile, dressed in improvised costume depicting a fictional Chickasaw chief named Slacabamorinico. The choice was a backhanded insult to the Union forces in that the Chickasaw had never been defeated in war. The following year (1867), Joe was joined by other Confederate veterans, parading in a decorated coal wagon, playing drums and horns, and the group became the "Lost Cause Minstrels" of Mobile. This was the origin of The Order of Myths parade on Fat Tuesday. Joe Cain is currently buried at Church Street Graveyard in Mobile, Alabama.

And, just in case you don't buy it and would prefer to have a brick thrown at your face while watching a parade on Bourbon Street in New Orleans in denial about where the real home of Mardi Gras is located, here's why Mobile is the ORIGINAL and classier Mardi Gras celebration-

Mobile, Alabama, as the first capital of French Louisiana, has the longest tradition of observing Mardi Gras in America, with the celebration of Mardi Gras in Mobile dating back to 1703, and detailed by the Mardi Gras Museum in downtown Mobile. In 1704, Mobile began the annual masked ball, Masque De La Mobile, and in 1711, Mobile began the first parades. In 1723, the capital of Louisiana was moved to a new town founded 1718 called "Nouvelle Orleans" (New Orleans), and the tradition, which had started 20 years earlier in Mobile, was expanded. Nearly 125 years after Mobile's first parade of 1711, a krewe from Mobile, the Cowbellion de Rakin' Society, began the first known parades in New Orleans (1835).

It's all a bit of a soar spot for Mobilians. Tonight, I'm meeting District Belle, Sassy, and others in Clarendon for their Mardi Gras parade and celebration. Their is bound to be some wasted a-hole who says to us, "I'll give you beads if you..." And, frankly, as usual, I'm bound to toss my Southern Comfort and coke all over his pants.

I want a king cake now. A Pollman's king cake like we used to eat in middle school. I think I'm going to order myself one. Thank heavens for overnight FedEx. Makes my life so much better having access to the Nuthouse and Pollman's. I don't know that I could live this far away without those places.

That's so abstract.

2007-02-19T22:37:00.000Z

Friday night, I met Suave, District Belle, and Joshy for dinner at the Hard Rock Cafe near Metro Center. We enjoyed the guitar-shaped bar and sign that read "The Embassy of Rock and Roll," but just about went deaf when the management decided that to drown out the noise from two loud groups of school children, they'd pump up the music as loud as possible.

I thought I should buy a t-shirt. One of the classic shirts I used to collect back in 1985. Well, the shirt still exists, but the price is now $22. I passed, obviously.

We went to Landmark Theater and met Vive, the Pea, the Master, AM, and LP to see a drugged out Sienna Miller in Factory Girl. My e-mail to the crew:

Yes, we're aware it got mixed/bad reviews, but seeing as I'm completely obsessed with Edie Sedgwick and Andy Warhol and the whole musing thing, Vive has agreed to go see Factory Girl with me tomorrow night. Nothing like a drugged out Sienna Miller to make you feel better about your life. Next stop, watching Angelina Jolie get AIDS from heroin abuse as Gia, tehe.

The plan is to go see the movie at 7:45pm tomorrow night at the E street theater near Metro Center.

If you don't know much about Edie, here's the website for the movie. www.factorygirlmovie.net.
And the wiki entry on Edie is http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edie_Sedgwick.

Anyone interested? The fashion should be fab, worse-case scenario on the plot.

Sam

Well, first of all, we LOVED the movie. It was definitely well-acted, and, though I agree with The New York Times that it veered away from truth a bit much (Dylan fighting with Andy for Edie's heart and being the voice of sobriety and reason), I still thought the plot was fascinating and the facts recreated well. In particular, I loved the scene where Andy puts Edie in Vinyl. The Master after it's conclusion, "Well, there was a nice light movie." I had nightmares of my butt covered in heroin track marks. Oh, and I now have body issues thanks to seeing Sienna completely naked throughout the whole thing. Hayden Christiensen is unbelievably attractive. Yum.

We left the movie and went back to the Hard Rock for some ice cream. Strangely, we were seated under a Bob Dylan gold album which was pretty cool. Seemed fitting to have a sex, drugs, and rock and roll night.

I slept very little Friday night. I dreamt I was falling naked down a mountain, because I was high on heroin. I spent the day painting and reading until 10pm when I met Vive, AM, Vive's friends, and Peter and Ralph at Dan's Cafe. After several Red Bull and vodkas, I was ready to go out. We headed to Bourbon for brief dancing before settling into the top floor of Brass Monkey. I wasn't feeling it, and decided I was horrendously bored. After trying to instigate a bunch of 22-year-old boys to do something to entertain me, I left with Vive around 2am and crashed.

Sassy's mom was in town for the weekend, and last night she cooked us all a delicious meal to celebrate Sassy's upcoming birthday. The three-tiered chocolate cake is talked about much by Sassy and District Belle, and I was thrilled to eat some finally. Sassy, "we've cut smaller pieces. If you want more, you can get more, but I can't stand to see any thrown away. So, smaller pieces to start now." After eating it, I can see why!

This morning, Vive and I met up at the Hirshhorn Museum for some culture. Incidentally, now that we've all seen Factory Girl, the entire group is way into art and Warhol. The Pea just invited us to some museum thing on the 9th. I purchased Ciao Manhattan!, Poor Little Rich Girl, and Heat on DVD. We're going to have a night of tomato soup, grilled cheese, and Coca-Cola to watch them.

The museum made us laugh much. Back when Josh and I were at the Museum of Modern Art with my parents when we were children, my dad tried to explain to Josh the importance of modern art. As we walked into the museum with Josh declaring "this stuff isn't even art. Someone just decided to throw paint on a canvas and hang it up in a museum!," we happened upon a large canvas painted black. Nothing on it. The title was Pittsburgh. The running joke about modern art (which I actually tend to like) is that sometimes it's so bad it's
"Pittsburgh." Vive and I examined a white canvas in the permanent collection with a lightly colored graph drawn in pencil over it. I felt like I should be in Geometry 101. Pittsburgh.

We enjoyed the travelling exhibit on light and also the new Ways of Seeing program which brings in noted artists to pull items from the museum's permanent collection (12,000 pieces to choose from) and create an installation that reflects their "own unique perspectives."

Oh, and we cringed watching Magnus Wallin's animation based on his dreams, "I do NOT want to take any medicine he's taking," I whispered to Vive during the movie. Though extremely fascinating (a bald evil eagle is shown with a body made out of an hour glass in Anatomic Flop), the second video featured a skeleton playing leap frog with muscles while trying to avoid a large snake and a large white ball with a person stuck in it. The sound effects of the skeleton and muscles made us almost vomit. Persuasive, I suppose.

Afterwords, we went in search of a wig shop in DC for accessories to our costumes at A Night of Mystique. We found Strong Wigs (202-396-8948) on H Street NE (near 11th street). The area was completely undeveloped. Vive says aloud, "what did you do on President's Day. We went to the ghetto. Oh no. I just said that out loud. In the ghetto. Two girls in a BMW. Great."

We were given wig caps and had a great time trying on all varieties of hair. After trying on one that could have been Edie Sedgwick style but realizing it was way more Carol Brady, I switched to black bobs. I found one I adored only to be told by Vive I had just chosen my current natural hair style with bangs. We decided to go back with costumes as it was hard to decipher how feathered hair looks when you're in a trench coat and sneakers.

And that was the weekend. Favorite line in Factory Girl (okay, one of many), Andy to Edie regarding sex, "well sex is so abstract anyways."

Karma and the Corcoran

2007-02-16T15:24:00.000Z

Yes, I'm huge on karmic retribution. I do believe that life is a balance of good and bad. Why do bad things happen to good people? Because, I fully believe, karma has a way of balancing out life so that no one person has all the luck in the world. My life is a complicated equation of figuring out how to make things even. The second I win at gambling or talk behind a friend's back or get undercharged at 711, something else goes awry in my life. Usually whatever happens is multiplied in extremity.

AM last night at the Corcoran's 1869 cocktail hour, "so I killed a mouse myself last night. I know you're way into karma. How do I make up for that?"

Ah, I was just grappling with this dilemma myself seeing as our house mouse died in my bedroom! Washington Hebrew is asking for $18 (this number is significant in Judaism, I've learned) per member to add to it's Ritzenberg Fund to help feed the children of Darfur. I'm donating more though as my friend Lyss's grandfather just passed away too.

AM invited us to join him at the Corcoran Gallery last night for their 1869 Society cocktail hour. I was interested to see the difference in the crowd and atmosphere as compare to the Contemporary events at The Phillips Collection (where APK was a member). The 1869 Society is $105 a year to join (Corcoran membership at $55 and 1869 Society at $50). Contemporaries pay $100 a year to join.

The Phillips Collection has selected private openings for Contemporaries plus one guest. Wine and appetizers are free, and the curator discusses the exhibit. The crowd tends to be younger and less social. Fairly unattractive and poorly dressed. The entire banquet room is open to the group for the reception though. Coats are checked. There is no where to sit and limited table space for socializing. Appetizers are great (cheese platters, quiche) and replenished often. Conversation slow and uninteresting.

The 1869 Society gets to invite non-members who pay $10 to be admitted to happy hours. We check our own coats and buy $5 drink tickets. Members must buy these tickets too. A roped in section of the lobby is selected for the cocktail crew. Another party had a roped in section on the other side of the lobby. A third party was viewing a showing in the student gallery. When we arrived, the platters on the catering table were completely empty. A wheel of baked brie sat untouched because the caterers brought nothing to cut it with. It took the servers about 30 minutes to replenish the empty table. The crowd, however, was much more attractive. Everyone was dressed extremely well, and the conversation was interesting and political. In the Waverly toile covered bathroom, I talked to two girls about astrology for a good thirty minutes. One of the girls (a Leo who knew she had a Libra moon sign and a Gemini rising sign) kept dating guys who were born on June 6th. That's Jerk's birthday. We had much to discuss! I was definitely thrilled more with the 1869 Society conversation. Is a pretty crowd worth the extra bucks? You decide. I'll continue to be a plus one for now.

Random thought of the day: do you remember the movie Love Potion #9. I haven't seen it in years, but I suddenly woke up wanting to see it again. I vaguely remember the plot. Two scientists invent a potion that can make them irresistible to the opposite sex and end up falling in love with one another. Sandra Bullock and Tate Donovan star according to IMDb. Forgot about them being in the movie.

"Steve hoped to impress his Valentine date with his large package."

2007-02-15T15:18:00.000Z

[Steve, on this card from my mom, is drawn knocking on a door dressed in a large, wrapped box with a ribbon on his head]. Open card. "Have an impressive Valentine's Day."

Is it wrong my mom sent me a dirty card?

District Belle, Sassy, the Pea, others, and myself met at Guarapo in Courthouse (not Clarendon stop. Damn http://www.wmata.com/ has given me the wrong stop twice in the past week!). We finished three Voss water bottles full of sangria (and one District Belle said they finished while I was walking the 10 blocks from the Clarendon stop) and several plates of tapas. The girls suggested we go to Dremo's, which meant nothing to me. You, however, the reader, may have knowledge of the place being, as the Pea said, "the most legendary dive bar and pick-up scene in Arlington." It wasn't so bad on Valentine's Day. We had full reign over the jukebox and played all the angry girl music we could find (Garbage, Hole, Heart, Madonna) and some hippie songs we HAD to hear for no apparent reason (Rusted Root?).

There was some open mike comedy night going on in the back room. When it ended, we noticed all the guys in the bar wearing these black tees with "The beer set me up!" on the back. It felt like the entire bar was blanketed shirts. I approached a larger group of them to find out the back story. We assumed it had something to do with the comedy earlier. It turns out some old guy who worked at the bar was giving out shirts sporting Bardo Rodeo (the bar's name before it became Dr. Dremo's) and a clever saying about Marion Barry liking beer.

So, of course, the sangria in me didn't fail, and I HAD to get me a free tee. The bartender gave me the very last one behind the bar. When I got back to the table with it, the Pea and District Belle decided they HAD to have one too. The bartender told them there were no more. Then, I spotted to boys in the shirts playing Golden Tee.

I approached them, "It's Valentine's Day. I'm single for the first time in 5 years. We're having a most fabulous night out, and my friends over there have been so supportive. There was only one t-shirt left, so I was hoping ya'll could donate your free tees to my friends. The shirt isn't even that cool really."

"Well, my buddy here loves this place, so I think he's going to keep his. But, it's my first time here. So, tell you friend with the short blond hair to come play Golden Tee with us, and we'll give her the shirt."

It wasn't as creepy as it sounds. They were totally normal nice guys.

"Uh," I said to District Belle, who seated chatting with the Pea and Sassy, "that guy doesn't want his shirt. But, he wants us to play Golden Tee with them to get it."

So, that's what we did. The boys coached us on choosing the right iron for the sand trap and the right level of our back swing to get the ball in the hole from 25 yards away. The boys had been playing as Player AAA and Player FUK. I was FUK. District Belle was AAA. In between turns, I got to talking to one of the boys about his hometown of Pittsburgh. I expressed my love. He expressed his despise. It was a strange conversation. We finally agreed on the aesthetic appeal of Pittsburgh and got back to getting FUK out of the woods.

We cabbed home just before 12am. The clock struck midnight, Valentine's Day was over, and guess what, I didn't turn into a pillar of salt (or worse, a lady with warts on her face and 60 cats I've named after famous poets).

You know you're at a dive bar when the decoration involves blow-up beer bottles hanging from the ceilings. We don't drink beer, but we felt like exalting the decor all the same. All hail to the beer.

P.S. How come DC doesn't prepare to salt the sidewalks? It does snow, like, every year. I don't get this city.