Queen of My Doublewide Trailer

By some strange fluke, a group of us has ended up at a local Irish pub on Tuesdays for about the last month to play bar trivia and soak up one another's company. I'm (proud isn't the right word...pleased?) to say that knowledge of the above country song landed us third place the other night. Larissa, ya feel me on this one, I'm sure, but that is not what I'm here to share today.  

Given the fact that an unusually large percentage of their alumni wind up in this very city, I imagine that it one day occurred to my alma mater that erecting a building here would make sense for a variety of reasons. Three years, millions of dollars, and one large-welcome party later, it opened for business on Friday. Built to serve not only our alumni population, but also the students who venture this way to study throughout the year, its a four-story thing with classic design elements. Basement has classrooms, first floor holds a foyer and large lecture room, up the stairs are offices, third floor library, and fourth floor sitting area and rooftop terrace. Needless to say, the place is beautiful. It looks like they plucked it right off campus and nestled it here.

After a long-winded (though very rah-rah-Constitution) speech from our President, they let us loose on the place to explore and partake, and seriously, given as much money as I owe these people, the very least they can do is let me drink on them once in a while. It was fun, and a very nice opportunity to see several people who I didn't even know were here and lots of the staff with whom I spent four-years working. After the event, I ventured with a few people down to a local bar, where I though we could just catch up and grab some dinner, but as it turned out, we stumbled (not literally, at least, not yet) upon the unofficial after-party.

About thirty people from the opening, most of which were members of my very very favorite fraternity in college (read: there were only four girls there,) had come around to keep the party alive. The mix was eclectic and although I didn't know very many of the people, new friends are good! So, doing the social G&G thing, I met people, made laughs, caught up, blah blah blah.

But really, we all know that if I blogged about every time I went to a bar with people, this thing would be (a) boring and (b) full. So what happened? This! This is what happened:

Sitting to my left was a guy and seriously the first thing out of his mouth is a joke about how I was just another Hillsdale-Daddy's girl-Kappa with her David Yurman on. Three things -- I am not a Daddy's girl. I was not a Kappa. And what kind of boy knows what David Yurman is? I responded with something equally sassy, and after that we were friends. He was cute and flirty...another lawyer! OMG. They are ALL LAWYERS HERE! After the big group paid the tab, he asked me if I could join him at the bar for just one more, and being the girl who's a sucker for flattery, I did.

Our chat continued until...

"Ya, I'm really not a big fan of (insert college president's name here."
"Why? I mean, I don't love the man, but you can't deny that he's smart and good at his job."
"Well, there was just this situation once upon a time."
"Haha, what happened."
"Well... on September 11th...(voice fades)"
Ummmmm, where were you when that happened? Because if you're my age, you were definitely in eighth grade, which would make you approximately nine years younger than the boy sitting across from me. This fact is hysterical to me; I can cannot contain my laughter. Still can't, actually.

What Should I Be Doing? Oh, right, running.

Whatever. I don't feel like it, but I know its what I'll end up doing as soon as I'm done here, so hey, its all good. Hi! Right now I'm listening to the Mumford & Sons album, eating pumpkin fluff, and putting my feet up after a mega long day on the job. Like, woah, today was a total Monday. That said, I have a job and for that I am tres thankful.

So, Thanksgiving in the G&G High-rise was a quiet affair. Madeline took off the Friday before, so for a WHOLE WEEK I had the house to myself. It was kind of amazing. Yes, of course I wish that I could have jet away back home, up to Michigan, or even to some sunshine filled island but, truth be told, it just wasn't in the budget this year. So instead I filled my (almost work-free) weekend with adventures like a bike ride around the city, black Friday shopping, and lots of Netflix. I should probably have taken pictures, and promise I'll try and be better about adding photos to the bloggy-blog, but for now, you're stuck with just a few here and there. Also, its still ridiculously warm here. Chilly at night, but daylight hours top out between fifty-five and sixty degrees. One, I'm in for a rude awakening when I go home for Christmas and two, I miss the snow but I'm very happy about not having to walk through it just yet. Everyone keeps telling me their nightmare stories about last year's "Snowmageddon," and while it sounds like a royal pain...back home we just whip out the tractor and go to work.

Speaking of home and tractors, I put a phone call into my brother the other day. He's good. At this point, I suppose it shouldn't shock me that my parents are still going along with whatever charade he's up to, but seriously! How the hell he is getting away with this, I'll never know. Anyway, this was not the highlight of our conversation, no no. That would be when he told me he wanted to have kids by the time he is ... wait for it ... TWENTY FIVE!! This, this from my brother who turns 21 in just over one month. He want children. Sweet Jesus. I was am shocked. The good news is he plans on finding a wife first.

Moving on, I haven't found a church here that I like, and that bothers me. There is one near my house, but the few times I've been there, it (stop the presses...I switched to Christmas music around paragraph no. two, and now Big Bad Voodoo Daddy's "Last Night [I Went Out with Santa Claus]" is playing. One of my faves. Yay.) just seriously hasn't been what I want out of a mass. The choir has an old-school vibe, but adds these new-age chants to Mass and Sunday's homily was legitimately five minutes long. No good. Several times, I've just trekked up to the Basilica, because, seriously, having the opportunity to worship there is unreal. I could do it every Sunday, but that has its own shortcomings. Church is a communal place, and though beautiful, the Basilica doesn't have the community vibe. Prayers in that department would be much appreciated.

After church this week, Madeline and I showed great restraint in not purchasing a live Christmas tree for our apartment. So tempting! Instead, we let ourselves indulge in some Ethiopian food at a local place on our way home. Everywhere you look around here, there are these amazing little kitchy restaurants with every type of fare you can imagine, and being a creature of habit (read: Chipotle) I don't venture off into the land of the unknown nearly as often as I should. Lucky for me, Madeline is a total foodie. Now, the idea of eating at a restaurant that serves food from a country where a large percentage of the population is starving seems slightly off to me, but I love capitalism, so we went inside. (Note: If I ever write a book, that last sentence is totally going in.) As an appetizer, we ordered veggie sambussas, a deep-fried lentil and spice mixture, and for our main course beef & lamb tibs. For all I know, tibs may be the parts of a cow that they only eat in Ethiopia, but never mind that, it was delicious. They served the dish family style, mixing the beef and lamb and surrounding it with a variety of condiments: the red sauce was a spicy, curry-esque sauce, then potatoes, followed by a lentil chili and yellow smash thing, and finally salted tomatoes. To eat this concoction, pictured above, you tear a strip of injera (picture a sponge-cake shaped like a tortilla and then make it the color of a gray Crayola crayon) and use your hot little hands to pick up everything you'd like to stuff in your mouth. It was soooooo good, and the perfect post-church outing for Miss Madeline and I.

Oh, but before I leave you pretties for the gym, (I'm 99% positive she doesn't read this, but if she does, oh, hey Jess! Congratulations on the kid!) I picked up Jessie's baby gift this weekend. Omg. Love. And seriously, I may be the only of of us that can outfit this tiny being in said outfit. Behold, the prepster child:

Obsessed.

So Miss Madeline and I are

perusing Petfinder.com. This will NOT end well. Seriously, how on EARTH am I supposed to say no!

Ooooo, my heart hurts. I miss my dog.

Secrets, secrets are SO MUCH FUN!

Since the March on Washington (September 12) ... ie practically the last time I blogged, there has been about 198475298475298745 interesting things have been happening in life. Heres to recording some of them.

For the last two months, our focus has pretty much been on one thing -- the election. There was one tiny little date squeezed in there, but he hasn't called, so I'm going to run with the idea that I've been given the boot. This doesn't bother me. He was cute, yes, and had the body of a guy who rowed crew in college (because, oh wait, HE DID) but seriously, short. And yeah, this is mega vain, but most recently I've learned that I don't really want to compromise on the height front. There really aren't many things I like more than my shoes, most of which just happen to add a considerable height to my frame.

Dear God, please send me a tall future husband. Pretty please. Love, me.
PS-- My life is awesome. Thank you for that. Mad props.

It makes me uncomfortable to be taller than everyone else, but particularly, boys. Anyway moving on, Halloween! Its probably in my top-two holidays, and while I was pretty convinced that the shenanigans would end after college, I'm quite pleased that they haven't. It helps that nearly all of my collegiate influences are out here -- something which I am exceedingly thankful for every time I see them. They're amazing. Together, for Halloween, we were -- hipsters, Harry & Hermione, Uncle Sam & Lady Liberty, Snookie, Rufio (from Hook!), and 80s work-out gurus. There was no trick-or-treating, just a low-key house party with plenty of candy, booze, and laughs.

Two days later, it was game time. Our Washington DC offices served as our foremost headquarters, but we had victory centers scattered all across the US -- Las Vegas, Colorado, West Virginia, Philadelphia, Florida, and South Carolina. Throughout the day, staff and volunteers made thousands of last-minute get-out-the-vote phone-calls and around 5pm the press started to filter in. Then catering arrived. Then booze arrived. Then Mr. & Mrs. Armey arrived. It was a madhouse in the best way possible. Although east-coast polls started to close around 7pm, most of the staff stuck around until well after midnight (when Alaska closed). The last of the press left at 3am...then wrote a rather amazing article about how awesome we are. It was very cool. We got a lot of great press that night, which is always nice, but my favorite aspect of all the stories that came out about us that night was that they really seemed to capture how freaking-awesome our staff really is. This wasn't a sit-around-watch-tv kind of affair, it was a rambunctious, confetti-filled, party that happened to have a focal point. We all work hard, we all play hard, and we all generally like each other. I realize exactly how few other people can say that within their profession. Time Magazine got a pretty good video of the event: http://www.time.com/time/video/player/0,32068,660683925001_2029545,00.html. Note the blue "Chops You Can Believe In" shirts. Haha, yeah, our President has lamb chops -- yeah, we put his face on a shirt. The election was a smashing success, we took back the House and knocked out some key incumbents in the process, but now the work begins.

Part of what we've been planning since September was a post-election retreat that, since its initial planning stages, has been a highly secretive endeavor. Now, event planning has always been one of my very favorite things, so needless to say I was beyond thrilled when our policy analyst tapped me to help organize the retreat.  Our main objective was to bring people together to learn about Austrian economics (free-market), the DC inside-outside game, and other crucial aspects of life on Capitol Hill. The reason for the secrecy? Because all of our invitees were newly-elect members of Congress. I know, I know, that sounds like nothing that needs to be kept under wraps, but we couldn't risk getting scooped or undermined.

Anyway, the retreat took place Thursday-Friday and was nothing short of awesome. Having the opportunity to spend time with newly elect members and get to know them outside of the campaign trail and Capitol was so cool. They're so completely genuine and excited about the opportunities that lay before them. (Please note that I'm refraining from going on political blah blah here and just saying that I'm super pumped.) I'm watching the new 30 Rock as I write this, ironically enough, its a hilarious take on tea-party candidates in Congress.

I got into Baltimore for the retreat on Wednesday, and I gotta say, you know you're dropping a dump-truck full of cash somewhere when you check-in to the hotel and theres a cheese and fruit plate in your hotel room with a signed, personalized, note from the general manager. Woah.

But thats not the most awesome thing that happened this weekend.

Once Thursday morning rolled around, our entire office and most of the newly-elect members were fielding phone calls from the press about what we were doing in Baltimore, who was there, what our agenda was, why we'd kept it secret, etc. By that point, there was no reason for the secrecy anymore, so our communications director decided to handpick his favorite journalists and invite them to a press junket featuring the new members and staff on Friday.

After going through the morning program, I escorted all the new members down to the conference where CNN, FoxNews, Wall Street Journal, Washington Post, and the New York Times were all waiting. They chat, they woo, they do their thing -- and the next thing I know, communications director is standing in front of me being like...uhhh, are you okay with being in the NYT?

-Why?
-Well, you know how you were standing with the guy in the bowtie and Julia (the girl in the patterned wrap dress?
-Yeah...
-Well, the NYT guy leaned over to me and mentioned something about how the three of you look like you just popped out of the Kennedy administration. Then he laughed and said that the young GOP is bringing style back to the party and he wants to publish the photo.

My life is perfect.

Cha-ching-cha-ching-cha-ching.

It is really difficult to describe what I do without sounding like either a stalker or a money-fiend, but I promise you that I am neither. What I enjoy most about my industry is the ability and opportunity to build relationships with people, and over the course of the last month, I have had several really great opportunities to do what I love. Yay.

So having met lots of people in the last few weeks, I wrote several of them letters that not only thanked them for coming but also expressed my joy (that word sounds super cheesy) in getting to finally meet the people behind our organization.

On Thursday, one of these notes netted us $3000.

I made my first money!! Ahhhh!!

So pumped.

Blessed like whoa

It took me about three and a half years of college to figure out what I wanted to do with my life, and even then, it wasn't really a light-bulb-esque epiphany as much as it was a gentle realization that I knew what I wanted and was lucky enough to have an opportunity to pursue it.

Despite this realization, however, I chose to apply for a variety of jobs outside of what I believe (as of today) to be my vocation. Several of these evolved into second and third interviews, and a couple of them were actually quite promising. One of these in particular was a journalism position in Ohio, I mean, yeah, it was Ohio, and I certainly liked journalism, but lets get serious, I'm not particularly passionate about the Midwest or writing for a living.

There were two positions available, and when a friend and I drove down to interview, the President offered her a job on the spot and then later awarded the second position to another friend of mine, an econ major with zero journalism experience.

I was devastated.

But God does everything for a reason.

In July, not only did I hit the jackpot in terms of doing what I love, but I also work in a genuinely amazing office. We're all pretty young. We all love the movement. Work hard, play hard. Rah rah freedom. Moreover, last night, the econ major who had landed the Ohio job with no experience Facebook chatted me to warn me that not only does she hate working there, that my other friend had quit the week before and they were again looking to fill the position.

And then it occurs to me that I'm blessed, like whoa. I love my job. I love what I do. I love who I work with. I love my friends. I love where I live. And lawyer is moving here on October 8.

"I'm Wearing a Red Jacket. I'm black. And I'm Handsome"

Last weekend, my very best friend from college came into town for a couple of days, and to say that we painted the town would be a grand understatement.

KM came in late on Thursday, and I still had to work Friday, so that evening we kicked it at my house. Early Friday, she came to work with me and then spend her day doing a self-guided tour of the capitol, monuments, and museums. (She was especially thrilled to see the Constitution on the anniversary of its signing.) The nice thing about the city is that tons of alumni from our school have made their way here, so there is always someone to catch up with. KM lunched with a guy from college who I knew-of, but had never really met. As far as I knew of him, he was a football meat-head who slept his way through college, a nice guy, but certainly not my type. During the day, I managed to talk one of my co-workers (MD2) into showing us the town and the between the two of us and KM + lunch date, our Friday night foursome was made.

Post-work, KM and I swung into the local World Market (which if you've never been, take my advice and don't go when you're hungry) to pick up libations, chips, and salsa before heading back. One thing I love about us is that we eat. Don't laugh. Everyone reading this has friends that don't--those girls who always order salads and veggies. KM and I are not those people. We polished off a 6-pack and an entire jar of salsa before so much as showering for our PM outing.

Now, before you go any farther, take ten and Google "Esquire I Think You're Fat." This article had half my office buzzing last week. Personally, I think its a nice idea but would make for a pretty cynical world. Honesty is good. Radical honesty is a little much for me. Anyway, as I ran around the office Friday morning, MD2 made KM read the article - a move which later prompted the "radical honesty bar game." The premise? Ask anything and get a completely honest answer. Trust me, you get a few drinks down and everyone is ALL ABOUT radical honesty. It was amazing...and educational, but mostly just awesome. Lets just say we learned a lot.

With one bar down, the three of us moseyed our way to the next where shots and dancing ensued. So. Much. Fun. Then, KM decided she needed Subway. At some point, it was decided that we were all sleeping at MD2's house, and 984092845029485 blocks later, MD2, KM, lunch date and me were all sleeping.

Fast-forward to 6AM Saturday morning. KM's phone rings... its lunch date! Wait. WTF? He's calling? But wait, lunch date is definitely passed out on the couch next to KM.

Hello?
Hi! Who is this?
This is KM, where did you get this phone?
(suddenly, meat-head lunch date realizes that he is, indeed, down a cell phone)

LUNCH DATE LOST HIS PHONE AND NOW A HOBO HAS IT AND IS DEMANDING MONEY TO GET IT BACK!!

Bahahahahahaha! I learn about all of this when I wake up at ten, and so we start calling and calling Homeless to retrieve the phone. Two episodes of Entourage later, we've got no information and growling stomachs so we decide to make our way to brunch.

One hilarious meal later, and long story short, the hobo makes his way to us and returns lunch date's phone for the bargain basement price of $15.

After a night like that, it becomes pretty difficult to out-do yourself, so KM and I spend the rest of her visit enjoying the company and making endless hobo jokes. We wined. We dined. We shopped the mega-amazing-james-perse-sample sale. It was good, and I can't wait to have more visitors...and the adventures that'll surely come with.

Everybody Loves a Good Routine

Generally speaking, the metro is a pretty lovely place. Now, the escalators are always broken and sometimes it smells, but if you can appreciate good people watching...morning rush hour is the place to be. Parking around here is such a nightmare that most people tend to rely upon the trains in one way or another a fact that translates into seeing people from all walks of life on my morning commute. Additionally, I get a newspaper every day! A NEWSPAPER!

Last Thursday morning, I dashed out my door about ten minutes late -- which really isn't a big deal, for the most part, my work doesn't particularity care what time we roll in, so long as we get our responsibilities taken care of -- and after nabbing my paper and rolling my sunglasses up my forehead and into my hair, my morning routine began.

So there I am, standing on the platform, perusing the newspaper and I catch the eye of this boy. Now...I really really really don't want to make this website your one-stop-shop for all the men in my life, because, lets just be honest, there are lots of them, and not in the hanky panky sense, either. Friends. Lots of us are just friends. The others...well...there are those too. Whatever. Bottom line, this is not and will not ever be my man diary. Onward.

He and I lock eyes. Cute. Well-dressed. Back to my newspaper. Then our train arrives, and though I am sure there is some rhyme/reason/mathematical equation for the train crowds in relation to time and day of the week...all that jazz is beyond my level of city expertise, all I know is that on this particular morning, it seems like everyone has decided to ride the metro at 8:30 am.

We pack ourselves in and said boy and I end up side by side. He's got headphones on, Dave Matthews. Good call. So there we stand, and two stops later, the crowd loosens up and I mosey my late and sleepy self to a seat. We lock eyes again. There is an open seat next to me. Like a leading man, he swoops in, and we spend the rest of my ride making mindless small talk.

No names and no numbers exchanged, I spend the rest of my day kicking myself for not just TAKING THE CHANCE! I have business cards, and my name looks damn good on them, why didn't I just give him one?!?!

So this was my Thursday epiphany: I'm a new girl. In a new city. With miles of opportunity around. I've got to be bold. I've got to ditch routines and be late and branch out and meet people and try new things and be young and be alive. Because I'm lucky to be here.

That night, I (of course) relayed the entire story to best friend, who (in her infinite wisdom) tells me that if it is supposed to happen we'll meet again, and damn if I wasn't late on Friday morning.

Halfway through my morning paper, I peek up only to lock eyes with him again. WHAT! Okay, so we've always joked about how my life is a little cinematic sometimes, but really, its now pretty clear that I LIVE IN A MOVIE!

There we are, standing on the train together for the second day, pushed to opposite sides by everyone in between us. Fumbling for a pen, I reach into my purse and whip out one of those shiny new cards and jot down my cell phone number and "What I should have done yesterday." Ugh, terrible handwriting. Reaching back down into my purse, I reach for another card. The final draft. I am shaking. Why am I shaking? Is this what boys feel like when they do this? Wow. Shaking! Poor things. I'll be nicer about that from now on. Focus. Handwriting must be good. Neat. Okay. Its done.

I'm holding this thing in my hot little hands and he steps towards me. Our conversation resumes where we left off yesterday, and as the metro pulls into my station, as calmly as I can, I pass my card along with a wink and a smile.

Its been a week, and I've gotten nothing out of him, but to be honest, I don't really care. It was fun. My little Friday morning adventure, because the idea is bold, people.

We're going for bold.

You know those days when...

you put together an absolutely killer outfit using only clothes/accessories that you already own and you clomp around town feeling fabulous all day long? Totally had that day yesterday. Knew you'd understand.
-
My week has been bazooka-crazy. Work work work work. But...there are sparkles to tell you about. Stories to come. Xoxo.

(edit: Haha, why did no one tell me about the massive grammatical error I just edited out of here!)

A Golden Rhinosaurus

I'm mad at myself for not keeping up with this thing like I should.
No excuses. I'll try and do better.

Trying to find a place to live out here was an adventure and a half. Surviving almost solely on four-cheese flavored Cheeze-Its, Circus Animals (frosted animal crackers, which if you have not tried, do so immediately), ham sandwiches and Diet Coke my dad and I made it to St. Louis on day one and into the City on day two.

Home-hunting pretty much went as follows:

Day One -- Found two lovely town houses. One had its own bathroom, three roommates, and a beautiful kitchen. Literally a stone's throw away from the metro. The next had a shared bathroom, two roommates, terrible transportation access and a creek/running trail that ran behind it. The only problems here would be that my commute to work would average forty-five minutes, and I don't do mornings very well.

Day Two -- Oh my gosh. No I do not want to live in the basement of a retired Asian couple with a hotplate in my "kitchen" and the stale smell of geriatrics. Thank you. No.

Day Three -- Toured the token, post-college proverbial frat house. Bottles everywhere. Jersey Shore (no, for real) on the television. Five girls total, plus me. Amazing location. Metro accessible. Mall accessible. Cute house. The very first indication that there might be a problem was the giant Che Guevera poster on the wall. Whatever, I can deal with hipster illusion. One of my key questions in this whole process is, can I visitors? Most of my friends, both collegiate and otherwise, haven't spent much play time in the city, and I need them to come visit. I need my friends around me. Frat house answer? "Oh my God, like YES you can. We had this place packed five deep when all of our friends came for the INAUGURATION..." Oh. Yeah, I can't live here.

Day Four -- We've got two stops scheduled, and the second, although in a pretty prime location would make me the roommate of Ragu and Hamir. Now, I'm pretty open to whatever, but I was not looking forward to that possibility. Fortunately for me, I got to cancel my second appointment, because earlier that morning, I met MM. Shes awesome. A quiet, laid-back, San Diego transplant with good taste in music and furniture whose first roommate (and best friend from college) had signed the lease in May and walked away from it to join the convent by mid June. Yup, convent; she's going to be a nun. MM is fun, low-maintenance, loves vintage stores, and came out here in order to get as far away from home as possible. We're on the same page in a lot of respects...minus the maintenance part. (Oh trust me, I'm well aware that the comb and hairspray that reside permanently in my purse categorize me as anything but.) Our latest same page moment? Simultaneously deciding the the over-sized three dollar wooden rhinoceros sitting on our large bookcase would look better if he was spray-painted metallic gold. Yes, gold.

Like I said, so far--so good.