So, now that we're all in agreement that GB is pretty freakin cool, allow me to add this little gem:
Rather than trek it back up to the homestead after Viki's (beautiful) wedding, we decided that we were going to stay the night downtown. Post reception, we dashed downtown with Kails & Co. ready to slam shots and party long into the night. (Well, I thought I was anyway) Fast forward twenty minutes and you have me falling asleep in the back of a bar surrounded by good conversation with a lot of people who I don't know. An early morning in combination with the time difference is a total bitch, and after one beer, GB and I were so sleepy that we decided to head back to the hotel. Once there we just kind of bummed around talking about everyone who reads this blog and then the conversation turned to us.
You see, the night before (in a moderately drunken state) GB had started a sentence that I was 98% sure was going to end in the "L" word. Being me, I chopped it off at the knees, but 24 hours later I got the distinct feeling that the Hydra was back -- not only eight heads strong but also sober. Eff! So, we talked about things that I hate talking about, and I dropped the very honest line that no I'm not there yet but I feel like were going that direction. This is not a fling for me. And then he tells me this...
I'm a fling. A space filler. Thats all. (Hahaha, just kidding.) No no, he tells me that when I came up to visit last month, as we were sitting in mass on Sunday that he asked God for a little help in showing him that this was worth pursuing. Twenty-four hours later my flight was cancelled and he says he had his answer.
Sigh, he prayed about it.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Thursday, February 17, 2011
The Last of Them
37. I can't think of anything witty enough to explain how this feels.
I'm nose deep in Wednesday's newspaper when I peek up to check train times and catch the eye of someone familiar, but for the life of me, I simply cannot remember where I'd met him before. Train arrives, and before I know it I've arrived at my transfer station. We moved offices last month, something that probably should have made this little list, but I forgot and its not a big deal. Here I switch trains to head across the city to Capitol Hill, the neighborhood where our new place is located, and who steps on right behind me but this mystery man.
He turns to me and asks, "Do you remember me?"
Oh, oh yes. Yes I do. Suddenly, I know just who he is.
"I do," I say, laughing. "You never called."
"No! I did, I called four times. It to me a week to get up the courage and then every time I called I got a disconnected signal. After that, I had to leave town because my sister had a baby and then I quit seeing you in the mornings. I thought you gave me a fake number and then avoided me."
Well this is awkward.
He continues, "So, you're not working at Archives anymore?"
"No, no, we moved offices about a month ago and I'm up here now. Same company, but now on the Hill."
"Which building?"
"(Insert building name here.). Its a pretty awesome space; we like it a lot."
"That's my building, too!"
You've got to be kidding me. I can't remember his name from last time and I feel really bad asking... anyway, we were on the same damn train this morning and made small talk on our walk to work afterwards.
And, no. Not giving up GB, but still charmed about this whole little situation.
38. I CANNOT WAIT TO SEE YOU GUYS!
That's all.
I'm nose deep in Wednesday's newspaper when I peek up to check train times and catch the eye of someone familiar, but for the life of me, I simply cannot remember where I'd met him before. Train arrives, and before I know it I've arrived at my transfer station. We moved offices last month, something that probably should have made this little list, but I forgot and its not a big deal. Here I switch trains to head across the city to Capitol Hill, the neighborhood where our new place is located, and who steps on right behind me but this mystery man.
He turns to me and asks, "Do you remember me?"
Oh, oh yes. Yes I do. Suddenly, I know just who he is.
"I do," I say, laughing. "You never called."
"No! I did, I called four times. It to me a week to get up the courage and then every time I called I got a disconnected signal. After that, I had to leave town because my sister had a baby and then I quit seeing you in the mornings. I thought you gave me a fake number and then avoided me."
Well this is awkward.
He continues, "So, you're not working at Archives anymore?"
"No, no, we moved offices about a month ago and I'm up here now. Same company, but now on the Hill."
"Which building?"
"(Insert building name here.). Its a pretty awesome space; we like it a lot."
"That's my building, too!"
You've got to be kidding me. I can't remember his name from last time and I feel really bad asking... anyway, we were on the same damn train this morning and made small talk on our walk to work afterwards.
And, no. Not giving up GB, but still charmed about this whole little situation.
38. I CANNOT WAIT TO SEE YOU GUYS!
That's all.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
"Mass. Lunch. Parents. Wait, WHAT?!?!"
First there was part one and then there was part two and now there is part three:
27. I have found one half of my wedding gift.
The other piece(s) are out there somewhere but in the meantime, this first one is pretty dang fun. I haven't seen Miss Viki's house yet, but given their registry, I'm sure its going to be tres adorable. The idea of decorating a house tickles me, unfortunately, it looks like I might be doing so a little sooner that I'd like.
28. When my lease expires in May, MY RENT GOES UP $500 A MONTH!!!!!!!!!!
I can't even talk about this right now, no one wants to be mad before they go to bed. Luckily for me, the last time I found a house it took four days with zero knowledge of the area; this round I think my chances of finding the perfect place for the perfect price are marginally more manageable.
29. GB and I had a freakin' awesome weekend together.
I landed in Detroit around seven pm on Friday and after we got back to his house (um, yeah, the kid owns this house... whoa) we jetted out to dinner downtown at this fabulous little Mexican place. Let me tell you about these margaritas. Legit. After that we strolled around for a little bit and picked up chocolate cherry cookies before heading home. The next morning we ate our cookies for breakfast and then bummed around until almost five-thirty, at which point we finally put our acts together to go have dinner with KM and her boyfriend. Her new place is so cute and I was really pumped to finally meet this boy shes so in love with. What a winner. Not only is he gorgeous (together, they're mega hot) but the kid is ridiculously smart and social. Big fan. On Sunday, GB thought mass started at 11:30 but it was actually at 11 so rather than be those kids who roll in a half hour late we decided to kill a half hour by driving around and then hit up the noon service at a different church.
30. And in that thirty minutes, GB hit one of two high-points all weekend.
We drove around for a few, him mindlessly pointing out random places and chatting about how their food was before rolling into a car dealership that sells Morgans!! Not only are these are my very favorite cars ever, he totally made a point to take me to see the two they had.
31. Mass. Lunch. Parents. Wait, WHAT?!?!
Church? Check. Lunch? Another adorable little restaurant downtown that had a make-your-own-bloody-mary bar. Basically, they pour you a big ole glass of vodka and you make your own concoction using whatever you like. The food was epic. The company was perfect. After that, we perused the shops downtown when... his mom called. They were on their way to town to "drop things off." Ha. Ummm, sneak attack anyone!! So, I met the parental units. They're great, and rumor has it that they like me to. Good things all around I guess.
32. Fast Forward to Monday...Valentines Day!
No, he did not shower me in rose petals and chocolates. Hell no. Thank goodness! I mean, that stuff is fine and fun, but its not us. We don't really roll that way. Actually, he had texted me on either Tuesday or Wednesday to tell me that the White Castle on his way home from school was taking Valentines reservations (true story, they had 48 already scheduled when we called on Saturday morning) and how excited he was that he'd finally found the perfect evening plans.
33. Airport time was sad.
Unfortunately, my flight left at 6:30 Monday night, kaboshing any and all dinner plans. We slept in that morning and then had lunch at a little Cuban place before heading home to bum around until it was airport time. I repacked my bags and checked the phones for any last-minute emails that I needed to send off before leaving. Email one? Flight cancelled!! Something about scheduled repairs? At this point I was not asking questions about who schedules repairs and flights at the same time, all I was doing was rescheduling my flight for 6am Tuesday, giving me essentially twelve more hours to hang out with GB. He was equally pumped.
34. Frank Sinatra is now one of my Pandora stations.
We went grocery shopping for dinner and then settled into the kitchen at which point, GB nabbed the ipad, tuned it to Frank and popped it on top of the fridge for a little mood music.
35. And then he danced with me.
36. Four am comes real early.
GAHHHH. Leaving was not fun, but also compounded by the fact that my flight left at six, boarding started at five-thirty, we left his house at four-thirty, the commute was thirty minutes, and the security line at the airport was twenty minutes plus. If you did your math correctly, I missed my flight. Thankfully, a helpful desk clerk loudly informed me that thanks to US Airways' policy on overtime, there was indeed no gate attendant to assist in boarding the plane, so despite the fact that I was five minutes past take-off time, no, my flight had not yet boarded. I've never been so thankful for unions in my life.
(So close.)
27. I have found one half of my wedding gift.
The other piece(s) are out there somewhere but in the meantime, this first one is pretty dang fun. I haven't seen Miss Viki's house yet, but given their registry, I'm sure its going to be tres adorable. The idea of decorating a house tickles me, unfortunately, it looks like I might be doing so a little sooner that I'd like.
28. When my lease expires in May, MY RENT GOES UP $500 A MONTH!!!!!!!!!!
I can't even talk about this right now, no one wants to be mad before they go to bed. Luckily for me, the last time I found a house it took four days with zero knowledge of the area; this round I think my chances of finding the perfect place for the perfect price are marginally more manageable.
29. GB and I had a freakin' awesome weekend together.
I landed in Detroit around seven pm on Friday and after we got back to his house (um, yeah, the kid owns this house... whoa) we jetted out to dinner downtown at this fabulous little Mexican place. Let me tell you about these margaritas. Legit. After that we strolled around for a little bit and picked up chocolate cherry cookies before heading home. The next morning we ate our cookies for breakfast and then bummed around until almost five-thirty, at which point we finally put our acts together to go have dinner with KM and her boyfriend. Her new place is so cute and I was really pumped to finally meet this boy shes so in love with. What a winner. Not only is he gorgeous (together, they're mega hot) but the kid is ridiculously smart and social. Big fan. On Sunday, GB thought mass started at 11:30 but it was actually at 11 so rather than be those kids who roll in a half hour late we decided to kill a half hour by driving around and then hit up the noon service at a different church.
30. And in that thirty minutes, GB hit one of two high-points all weekend.
We drove around for a few, him mindlessly pointing out random places and chatting about how their food was before rolling into a car dealership that sells Morgans!! Not only are these are my very favorite cars ever, he totally made a point to take me to see the two they had.
31. Mass. Lunch. Parents. Wait, WHAT?!?!
Church? Check. Lunch? Another adorable little restaurant downtown that had a make-your-own-bloody-mary bar. Basically, they pour you a big ole glass of vodka and you make your own concoction using whatever you like. The food was epic. The company was perfect. After that, we perused the shops downtown when... his mom called. They were on their way to town to "drop things off." Ha. Ummm, sneak attack anyone!! So, I met the parental units. They're great, and rumor has it that they like me to. Good things all around I guess.
32. Fast Forward to Monday...Valentines Day!
No, he did not shower me in rose petals and chocolates. Hell no. Thank goodness! I mean, that stuff is fine and fun, but its not us. We don't really roll that way. Actually, he had texted me on either Tuesday or Wednesday to tell me that the White Castle on his way home from school was taking Valentines reservations (true story, they had 48 already scheduled when we called on Saturday morning) and how excited he was that he'd finally found the perfect evening plans.
33. Airport time was sad.
Unfortunately, my flight left at 6:30 Monday night, kaboshing any and all dinner plans. We slept in that morning and then had lunch at a little Cuban place before heading home to bum around until it was airport time. I repacked my bags and checked the phones for any last-minute emails that I needed to send off before leaving. Email one? Flight cancelled!! Something about scheduled repairs? At this point I was not asking questions about who schedules repairs and flights at the same time, all I was doing was rescheduling my flight for 6am Tuesday, giving me essentially twelve more hours to hang out with GB. He was equally pumped.
34. Frank Sinatra is now one of my Pandora stations.
We went grocery shopping for dinner and then settled into the kitchen at which point, GB nabbed the ipad, tuned it to Frank and popped it on top of the fridge for a little mood music.
35. And then he danced with me.
36. Four am comes real early.
GAHHHH. Leaving was not fun, but also compounded by the fact that my flight left at six, boarding started at five-thirty, we left his house at four-thirty, the commute was thirty minutes, and the security line at the airport was twenty minutes plus. If you did your math correctly, I missed my flight. Thankfully, a helpful desk clerk loudly informed me that thanks to US Airways' policy on overtime, there was indeed no gate attendant to assist in boarding the plane, so despite the fact that I was five minutes past take-off time, no, my flight had not yet boarded. I've never been so thankful for unions in my life.
(So close.)
Friday, February 11, 2011
Sixteen through Sleep
No, I don't usually write my blogposts like big ole number lists. This is a story that began here.
16. I just had the most hilarious conversation with my doorman.
16. I just had the most hilarious conversation with my doorman.
Me: Hey there, Patrick, how are you?
African Patrick: I'm good, I'm good. How are you?
Me: Oh, a little sleepy but good!
African Patrick: You always home so very late!
Oh, goody. Favorite doorman either thinks I'm moonlighting or a total alcoholic.
17. Sometimes, as humans, I think we let our minds trick our hearts into thinking we're stronger than we really are.
This is not a deep philosophical thought, but just a pretty casual observation. I'm surrounded by very strong women, and I think that deep down, some of our outer strength is very superficial. As women, our job is to make it all "fine," and when its not fine, we do everything to make it look like it is.
18. I was 100% not ready to run into the Govnah tonight.
There is an exceptionally large gathering (12K+) of like-minded politicos in town today through Saturday and given my firm's role in the event, much of our staff will be kickin' it at the venue for the next couple of days. It had crossed my mind that he'd be there, wife in tow, and a quick peek at the schedule on Wednesday confirmed both his father-in-law and sister-in-law on the schedule as speakers. That said, I love me some grassroots, but I certainly don't do the campaign scene. My personality and talents are far better suited for the fundraising side of things, so I pretty much figured I was in the clear for this particular event. That is, until I found out that as a sponsor we received lots of tickets to VIP banquets held tonight and tomorrow. Long story short, I got donors to attend which means I needed to attend. Literally, I set my foot down inside the hotel where OVER 12,000 PEOPLE ARE ATTENDING THIS EVENT and who is the first person I encounter? Joe. My heart fell out of my chest. (Thank God for small favors. I looked smokin' hot today.) He graciously introduced me to his father in law, shared the short-version of how we met, politely chatted about life, and then introduced me to the Mrs. She was nice enough but prompt forgot my name (she called me Emily. Seriously?). That part didn't hurt--it merely confirmed that this broad is dumb--the kicker was when she walked away and I looked up at him and he looked at me the way he always has. That, that took the air from my lungs. I congratulated him and then he apologized for not telling me. "Its not exactly something I could just put in a text." So, um, yeah. Not ready. Thought I was. Nope.
19. All things considered, I'm a pretty happy camper.
And one day, I'll find someone who makes me feel all the good without all the bad.
And if I can't find him, I'll get a puppy.
20. Sunday thru Tuesday, Mr. Media flew to visit best friend.
Mark my words, she is going to break his heart. Putting my work life and my home life in a food processor is not what I signed up for, and the more they talk, the less I feel like I can talk to either of them. Loose lips sink ships here people.
21. Tomorrow I'm off to MI to visit Ginger Beer for the weekend.
My silver lining for today. Pretty excited about this trip for a variety of reasons. One, quality time with the boy. But, in addition to getting to chill for a couple of days, I've also penciled in some time with KM and her boyfriend, and Ginger Beer's sister (who went to college with KM and I) wants to hang out on Sunday. It's like a vacation, ya know, if you're in to places like the Arctic tundra. Forecast is sunny and frigid.
22. I've been watching old school Grey's Anatomy episodes lately.
They remind me of the first season when we all used to text furiously back and forth about the drama. I vividly remember that after purchasing the first season we had a marathon in Miss Harder's basement. Things like this make me really wish we were all together on a more permanent basis.
23. Speaking of togetherness
I'm excited that Kailey Shea will be returning to the Mile High vicinity and very eager to hear about all of the thoughts and prayers that went into her decision to come home. What is even more exciting is that we'll all be reunited again for Miss Viki's wedding! I was thinking the other day about most of us being there, and to be honest, it just wasn't the same.
24. These are no longer facts...they're more like chapters. Storytime.
So, just after getting my beautiful wedding invitation in the mail (seriously, Keeks, from a design perspective they're just stunning) I got to thinking about how everyone now has these husbands and babies and serious lovers and friends that they'll bring to the wedding and really, I'll be damned if I'm going to be the dateless one. Flipping through my mental rolodex of men who are attractive-and fun-but-not-in-a-hookup-or-sloppy-drunk-kind-of-way it dawns on me that Ginger Beer's BFF resides in Denver and we're just good enough friends that he's the perfect fit for this kind of outing. I pitch Ginger Beer on said date and instead of the manly yeah-grunt, he deadpans me and asks, "Yeah, thats totally fine, but why didn't you ask me?"
Ummm, maybe because if you asked me to fly halfway across the country to go to some stranger's wedding I'd probably tell you no!
Long story short, him coming to Denver is a three-birds one-stone situation -- not only do GBBFF and he get a reunion, he gets to see me, and finally cross Colorado off of his to-visit list. So, surprise! You get to meet the boy in just a few short weeks.
25. Next weekend, I'm off to NYC with Mr. Media
Strictly platonic. Fact. End of story. Done. No need to say anything further. Bottom line is he needs a "fun & sophisticated" lady to kick it with friends of his during a weekend jet up to Manhattan. Pretty pumped about this because although I could never live in New York City, its truly a very fun and beautiful place to spend a day or two. Also, Mr. Media happens to be one of my most-est favoritest people ever to bum around with. He is, hands-down, the closest thing I've found to my college boys since I migrated east.
26. It is very late. I haven't packed for Michigan yet. And my house is mess.
Thus, its time for miss me to get some shut-eye so I can function at work in the morning.
All my love to all of you and I'll wrap up my lllllloooooonnnnnggggggg list soon.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Thirty Eight
Its been a while, kids. So how about we make a deal? I'll tell you one thing for every day that I didn't blog.
1. Best friend came back to the city with me for New Years Eve and it was epic.
Rather than hobble around the city in our dresses and heels, we opted into one of those big ticket, black tie extravaganzas. Ours was James Bond themed, and though I'd heard several nasty rumors about long lines, skeezy people, and general debauchery, it really was quite a lovely experience. We met people who we'll never see again, we kissed people who we'll never see again, and we had a damn good time doing it.
2. I didn't eat a black-eyed pea on New Years Day
Oh, I hope my mama doesn't read this, she'll kill me. It is a hard-core Southern tradition to make and eat (at least one) black eyed pea on January 1st, and every-year, I've had my mom there to do it for me. Apparently, I'm not quite as self-reliant as I think, because this year, there were no peas gracing my table. Thus far, there's no sign of a black cloud, but I'm mildly terrified its going to roll in on some idle Tuesday and wreck my life. Superstitions are hard to shake.
3. Ben's Chili Bowl is ridiculously overpriced.
I don't care what Bill Cosby says, seriously people, two hot dogs, covered in chili, and fries should never cost me $17.
4. The only boy in DC who I explicitly tell best friend to stay away from happens to fall head over heels for her, naturally.
A snapshot? He is one of my two very favorite people in my office, ten years older than best friend, recently divorced, and I'm pretty sure he digs the fact that she can wear thigh-high boots and explain complex chemical make-ups at the same time (neither of which he can do). Its complicated, yeah. I've made it explicitly clear to her that if this fucks up my career, I'll never forgive her. I've (so far as I can) explained the same to him. It is a mixture of my worlds that I really really don't like, but life gave me lemons, and I count myself lucky that I have the ability to be honest with both of them. Let's call him Mr. Media.
5. Right after best friend left, I flew to Portland, OR for a four-day company retreat.
Our president is on a bit of a kick right now, yeah, that's right, the kind of kick where you budget a four-day all expenses paid trip for your entire staff to the furthest possible place in the domestic 48 states. It was a really neat experience, not only because I'd never been to the North West before, but also because it helped illuminate our larger mission. No, we didn't do trust falls or all-night gab fests, we had serious brain storming sessions and laid out attack plans for the 2012 elections. It was a very intense four-days, but the beauty of our staff is in the details. Voodoo Doughnuts were around each morning and several cases of Portland's famous microbrews showed up every day around 4pm.
6. I ate some strange shit in Portland.
Tagliolini Neri is squid ink pasta for those of you who don't know. It has a different taste and it dyes your mouth and teeth a temporary black but I suppose ink isn't that terrible. That said, had I known what the hell it was when I ordered it, there is simply no way on earth I would have tried it.
7. The very best meal of my entire life (thus far) was at Irving Street Kitchen in Portland.
This place has wine on tap & they serve it in mason jars. Need I say more? Yes. I cannot quite explain what I had for dinner that night because their menu has already changed, but beyond that its fairly indescribable. This food was beautiful. Shame on me for not taking pictures to share.
8. The Ace Hotel is weird and wonderful.
Talk about a hipster paradise, this place is it. Mine and PS' room had a GIANT MURAL OF A TINY ASIAN CHILD surrounded by multiplication tables, but despite the creep factor, I simply couldn't help but love the place. (We stayed in the standard double for those of you wanting a picture.) Everything was adorable--right down to the cut keys and scented soaps.
9. When all else fails, the gay bar is probably still open.
10. Frontier Airlines is dead to me.
Here is the situation: you're trying to fly twenty people from one end of the office to the other and being a fairly Libertarian organization, rather than book a sensible travel agency to put you all on planes, you let your staff go buck wild with their own reservations. End result? Thirteen people on one place. Worst case scenario? Plane gets cancelled due to terrible weather in New York. FALSE! Worst case is when on Tuesday night, Frontier Airlines tells you that your flight is cancelled and thirteen people rebook their tickets to leave anywhere from Thursday thru Sunday (missing work, mind you) only to find out the very next morning at four-thirty am that NO your flight wasn't cancelled and now everyone gets to scramble to get back on their original plane which wasn't cancelled in the first place. Never again. Never, ever again.
11. The first few weeks of January were an absolute whirlwind.
BF to DC: December 28th - January 6th
Me to Portland: January 9th - January 12th
Ginger Beer* to DC: January 14th - January 17th
*I'm calling the boy Ginger Beer for a variety of reasons. One, he is kind of a ginger. Two, he brewed gingerbread beer for Christmas. Three, I like ginger beer and I like the boy. Four, it will tickle my audience.
12. I really like Ginger Beer.
Yikes. If you had told me a year ago that I'd be back at the long-distance relationship thing, I may or may not have punched you in the face. But black-eye or not, you've been correct. Its a bit masochistic. I'm not going to get off on some terrible tangent on everything I learned from Govnah etc. however, things have a distinctly different feel this time around - one sometimes makes me want to run for the hills. He's sweet. He listens (Like, woah. He listens and remembers everything. Example? I hate my iPad case; its ugly and not very good at its job. So what does he do? He rolls into DC with a perfectly wrapped Vera Bradley iPad cover in a beautiful new green/white/black pattern. No, hes not gay. He made his sister [whos a friend of mine] pick out the pattern before he picked it up.) He's wonderfully kind. He loves Jesus (Catholic.) He's hilarious. All in all, I'm a pretty big fan, but nevertheless, were still in stage one of this little adventure. Of course its fun. We've briefly and very generically chatted future, which for now is an agreement that we'll do our best.
13. This is a romantic city.
If you have any doubts, take a nighttime walk around all the monuments. They're beautiful.
14. Chelsea Handler's books are nothing short of hilarious.
Okay, so they're a little dirty, sometimes raunchy even, but if you're looking for a quick and laugh-out-loud funny read, I highly recommended you give one of them a whirl.
15. My company got the exclusive rights to the Atlas Shrugged trailer
My favorite book of all time is about to become a movie. The anticipation is killer, but given what I know about the screenwriters and producers of the film, I have lots of faith that they've done right by Ayn Rand's famous economic love story. It has every element of a blockbuster film... a thick plot, a scandalous love story, intrigue, all of it. So exciting. I cannot wait to see the trailer and the first 15 mins.
Yeah yeah yeah, I didn't even hit half ... to be continued.
1. Best friend came back to the city with me for New Years Eve and it was epic.
Rather than hobble around the city in our dresses and heels, we opted into one of those big ticket, black tie extravaganzas. Ours was James Bond themed, and though I'd heard several nasty rumors about long lines, skeezy people, and general debauchery, it really was quite a lovely experience. We met people who we'll never see again, we kissed people who we'll never see again, and we had a damn good time doing it.
2. I didn't eat a black-eyed pea on New Years Day
Oh, I hope my mama doesn't read this, she'll kill me. It is a hard-core Southern tradition to make and eat (at least one) black eyed pea on January 1st, and every-year, I've had my mom there to do it for me. Apparently, I'm not quite as self-reliant as I think, because this year, there were no peas gracing my table. Thus far, there's no sign of a black cloud, but I'm mildly terrified its going to roll in on some idle Tuesday and wreck my life. Superstitions are hard to shake.
3. Ben's Chili Bowl is ridiculously overpriced.
I don't care what Bill Cosby says, seriously people, two hot dogs, covered in chili, and fries should never cost me $17.
4. The only boy in DC who I explicitly tell best friend to stay away from happens to fall head over heels for her, naturally.
A snapshot? He is one of my two very favorite people in my office, ten years older than best friend, recently divorced, and I'm pretty sure he digs the fact that she can wear thigh-high boots and explain complex chemical make-ups at the same time (neither of which he can do). Its complicated, yeah. I've made it explicitly clear to her that if this fucks up my career, I'll never forgive her. I've (so far as I can) explained the same to him. It is a mixture of my worlds that I really really don't like, but life gave me lemons, and I count myself lucky that I have the ability to be honest with both of them. Let's call him Mr. Media.
5. Right after best friend left, I flew to Portland, OR for a four-day company retreat.
Our president is on a bit of a kick right now, yeah, that's right, the kind of kick where you budget a four-day all expenses paid trip for your entire staff to the furthest possible place in the domestic 48 states. It was a really neat experience, not only because I'd never been to the North West before, but also because it helped illuminate our larger mission. No, we didn't do trust falls or all-night gab fests, we had serious brain storming sessions and laid out attack plans for the 2012 elections. It was a very intense four-days, but the beauty of our staff is in the details. Voodoo Doughnuts were around each morning and several cases of Portland's famous microbrews showed up every day around 4pm.
6. I ate some strange shit in Portland.
Tagliolini Neri is squid ink pasta for those of you who don't know. It has a different taste and it dyes your mouth and teeth a temporary black but I suppose ink isn't that terrible. That said, had I known what the hell it was when I ordered it, there is simply no way on earth I would have tried it.
7. The very best meal of my entire life (thus far) was at Irving Street Kitchen in Portland.
This place has wine on tap & they serve it in mason jars. Need I say more? Yes. I cannot quite explain what I had for dinner that night because their menu has already changed, but beyond that its fairly indescribable. This food was beautiful. Shame on me for not taking pictures to share.
8. The Ace Hotel is weird and wonderful.
Talk about a hipster paradise, this place is it. Mine and PS' room had a GIANT MURAL OF A TINY ASIAN CHILD surrounded by multiplication tables, but despite the creep factor, I simply couldn't help but love the place. (We stayed in the standard double for those of you wanting a picture.) Everything was adorable--right down to the cut keys and scented soaps.
9. When all else fails, the gay bar is probably still open.
10. Frontier Airlines is dead to me.
Here is the situation: you're trying to fly twenty people from one end of the office to the other and being a fairly Libertarian organization, rather than book a sensible travel agency to put you all on planes, you let your staff go buck wild with their own reservations. End result? Thirteen people on one place. Worst case scenario? Plane gets cancelled due to terrible weather in New York. FALSE! Worst case is when on Tuesday night, Frontier Airlines tells you that your flight is cancelled and thirteen people rebook their tickets to leave anywhere from Thursday thru Sunday (missing work, mind you) only to find out the very next morning at four-thirty am that NO your flight wasn't cancelled and now everyone gets to scramble to get back on their original plane which wasn't cancelled in the first place. Never again. Never, ever again.
11. The first few weeks of January were an absolute whirlwind.
BF to DC: December 28th - January 6th
Me to Portland: January 9th - January 12th
Ginger Beer* to DC: January 14th - January 17th
*I'm calling the boy Ginger Beer for a variety of reasons. One, he is kind of a ginger. Two, he brewed gingerbread beer for Christmas. Three, I like ginger beer and I like the boy. Four, it will tickle my audience.
12. I really like Ginger Beer.
Yikes. If you had told me a year ago that I'd be back at the long-distance relationship thing, I may or may not have punched you in the face. But black-eye or not, you've been correct. Its a bit masochistic. I'm not going to get off on some terrible tangent on everything I learned from Govnah etc. however, things have a distinctly different feel this time around - one sometimes makes me want to run for the hills. He's sweet. He listens (Like, woah. He listens and remembers everything. Example? I hate my iPad case; its ugly and not very good at its job. So what does he do? He rolls into DC with a perfectly wrapped Vera Bradley iPad cover in a beautiful new green/white/black pattern. No, hes not gay. He made his sister [whos a friend of mine] pick out the pattern before he picked it up.) He's wonderfully kind. He loves Jesus (Catholic.) He's hilarious. All in all, I'm a pretty big fan, but nevertheless, were still in stage one of this little adventure. Of course its fun. We've briefly and very generically chatted future, which for now is an agreement that we'll do our best.
13. This is a romantic city.
If you have any doubts, take a nighttime walk around all the monuments. They're beautiful.
14. Chelsea Handler's books are nothing short of hilarious.
Okay, so they're a little dirty, sometimes raunchy even, but if you're looking for a quick and laugh-out-loud funny read, I highly recommended you give one of them a whirl.
15. My company got the exclusive rights to the Atlas Shrugged trailer
My favorite book of all time is about to become a movie. The anticipation is killer, but given what I know about the screenwriters and producers of the film, I have lots of faith that they've done right by Ayn Rand's famous economic love story. It has every element of a blockbuster film... a thick plot, a scandalous love story, intrigue, all of it. So exciting. I cannot wait to see the trailer and the first 15 mins.
Yeah yeah yeah, I didn't even hit half ... to be continued.
Friday, December 31, 2010
How to Kill the Mood 101
Text from the boy:
"Please be careful tomorrow, and keep an eye out for dbags. I kinda (much more than kinda) like you and would give pretty much anything to kiss you at midnight tomorrow night..."
Without thinking...my reply:
"Oh, you wouldn't want to do that. The last boy I kissed at midnight was in federal prison three weeks later."
Bahahahaha. Ooops. Anyway, happy new year! Xoxo.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Oh about the motorcycle...
Totally forgot to elaborate on that, but I'm seriously considering getting a motorcycle for next summer. True story: I absolutely cannot afford nor need a car but I would LOVE the ability to ride away somewhere fun and scenic. Nothing croch-rocketesque, but something more along the lines of a 60s Triumph.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
I'm Considering a Motorcycle
God has a ridiculous sense of humor. Like, for real. This is a long story that might disappear off the blog at any moment -- so take some notes if you're interested in retaining the details. Let us begin at the beginning:
I graduated from college around two o'clock on a very rainy and chilly afternoon last May. After the standard photos and congratulations, I spent most of the day trying to figure out how to pack four-years worth of crap into six suitcases. That evening, after a fine dinner out with my parents and friends, KM and I picked up some energy drinks and headed back to campus to celebrate the proper way. The irony of this whole thing is a bit surreal to me, but I love telling long stories to make short points, so please stick it out. Our campus has this blue sidewalk where each year, seniors sign their messages before leaving. SC and I had missed ours because we were up to no good with KM in Indiana at the Vera Bradley outlet sale, but lucky for us her fabulous boyfriend has snagged us a paint-pen. For weeks, we hadn't found a good time to sign, but seeing as how graduation night was out last chance...we had to do it then. We were liquid at this point and gathering our boys from their frat house, a group of us set off towards the sidewalk.
MH & CK (you'll remember them from this post), SC, her boyfriend, myself and two random alumni ventured up the Hill that night. Half-way there, SC and I decided that the boys were too drunk to not write completely inappropriate things on the sidewalk so we pretended to lose the pen and proceeded to stage a photo-shoot involving various campus statues. Who knew Thomas Jefferson liked Miller High Life? So, anyway, one of these said alumni is cute. Per my usual college shenanigans (haha, who am I kidding, they've hardly ended in college), he and I end up kissing behind central hall. I learn later that MH is not only his younger brother, but that MH had encouraged him to make a move, then persuaded the group to abandon us on the Hill. After Central Hall, we try unsuccessfully to steal bicycles, harass freshman dormitories, and ultimately end up jumping a fence at the college preschool to break-in to the playhouse. (Yeah. True story, I ripped the back pocket of my favorite jeans on that damn fence.) The story continues, but to say the least, the night was an excruciatingly perfect finish to my four years there. Photos and video exist by request only.
I realize that I sound like the captain of team slut here, but to be perfectly honest: one...I'm not, and two...I pretty much figured that this particular boy would saunter out of my life the way the rest have. Not in a hurtful or dramatic fashion, but those of you who know me are also quite aware that I've had a number one for many years.
The Govnah and I have quite the history, little of which needs to get rehashed here. He and I have spoken twice since I moved out east; both times he called me. Neither one of these phone-calls conjured up the butterflies that his caller ID used to, a fact that I took a lot of pride in. Finally, the healing process had started.
With everything that had changed: new job, new environment, amazing life -- how could it not? Suddenly I have the world at my fingertips, and one of the very last things on my mind are a marriage and family. Those things will happen later. However, this does nothing to change the fact that finding out about the Govnah's nuptials left me feeling like someone had dropped an anvil on my chest.
I suppose this is what I get for checking Facebook at work, but seriously, what the fuck? I promise I wasn't stalking -- well, at least it didn't start that way. It began with a photo on my newsfeed and ended with me finding photos of the wedding on his brother's profile page. Does anything in-between really matter? No. In the two conversations we've had in the last few months he explained that he was in the midst of starting a non-profit investigative journalism school for college students with the young woman who made waves a few years back when she dressed up as a hooker to expose voter fraud in acorn offices throughout the country.
Turns out this woman is now Mrs. Govnah.
Its not odd or surprising that he neglected to mention this to me; I think we both know it was unnecessary. Shocked, I stared at my screen for minutes, then I did what any hot-blooded girl would do: I searched through all the pictures to see a close-up of her ring (tragically unavailable), stepped out of my office, called my best friend (cried), called my mom (cried), stepped into the bathroom, cleaned up my act, touched up my make-up and carried on with my day. Oh, and somewhere in there, I penned a blog post.
Having had a few days to consider all of this, I gotta say, I think I dodged a bullet on this one. Moreover, I have some advice: if you ever find yourself in a similar situation, I suggest you hold yourself together long enough to get to the company Christmas party, where you proceed to drink loads of expensive wine and then win an iPad. I dunno, it made me feel better.
Also, that boy, the one who I imagined would just up and blow away like a snowflake? Well, one week after graduation he called himself an idiot for not getting my number, and actually, he actually hasn't gone anywhere since. Anywhere that is, except DC, where he has visited me...twice.
Oh, and here are some songs. Xoxoxo.
I graduated from college around two o'clock on a very rainy and chilly afternoon last May. After the standard photos and congratulations, I spent most of the day trying to figure out how to pack four-years worth of crap into six suitcases. That evening, after a fine dinner out with my parents and friends, KM and I picked up some energy drinks and headed back to campus to celebrate the proper way. The irony of this whole thing is a bit surreal to me, but I love telling long stories to make short points, so please stick it out. Our campus has this blue sidewalk where each year, seniors sign their messages before leaving. SC and I had missed ours because we were up to no good with KM in Indiana at the Vera Bradley outlet sale, but lucky for us her fabulous boyfriend has snagged us a paint-pen. For weeks, we hadn't found a good time to sign, but seeing as how graduation night was out last chance...we had to do it then. We were liquid at this point and gathering our boys from their frat house, a group of us set off towards the sidewalk.
MH & CK (you'll remember them from this post), SC, her boyfriend, myself and two random alumni ventured up the Hill that night. Half-way there, SC and I decided that the boys were too drunk to not write completely inappropriate things on the sidewalk so we pretended to lose the pen and proceeded to stage a photo-shoot involving various campus statues. Who knew Thomas Jefferson liked Miller High Life? So, anyway, one of these said alumni is cute. Per my usual college shenanigans (haha, who am I kidding, they've hardly ended in college), he and I end up kissing behind central hall. I learn later that MH is not only his younger brother, but that MH had encouraged him to make a move, then persuaded the group to abandon us on the Hill. After Central Hall, we try unsuccessfully to steal bicycles, harass freshman dormitories, and ultimately end up jumping a fence at the college preschool to break-in to the playhouse. (Yeah. True story, I ripped the back pocket of my favorite jeans on that damn fence.) The story continues, but to say the least, the night was an excruciatingly perfect finish to my four years there. Photos and video exist by request only.
I realize that I sound like the captain of team slut here, but to be perfectly honest: one...I'm not, and two...I pretty much figured that this particular boy would saunter out of my life the way the rest have. Not in a hurtful or dramatic fashion, but those of you who know me are also quite aware that I've had a number one for many years.
The Govnah and I have quite the history, little of which needs to get rehashed here. He and I have spoken twice since I moved out east; both times he called me. Neither one of these phone-calls conjured up the butterflies that his caller ID used to, a fact that I took a lot of pride in. Finally, the healing process had started.
With everything that had changed: new job, new environment, amazing life -- how could it not? Suddenly I have the world at my fingertips, and one of the very last things on my mind are a marriage and family. Those things will happen later. However, this does nothing to change the fact that finding out about the Govnah's nuptials left me feeling like someone had dropped an anvil on my chest.
I suppose this is what I get for checking Facebook at work, but seriously, what the fuck? I promise I wasn't stalking -- well, at least it didn't start that way. It began with a photo on my newsfeed and ended with me finding photos of the wedding on his brother's profile page. Does anything in-between really matter? No. In the two conversations we've had in the last few months he explained that he was in the midst of starting a non-profit investigative journalism school for college students with the young woman who made waves a few years back when she dressed up as a hooker to expose voter fraud in acorn offices throughout the country.
Turns out this woman is now Mrs. Govnah.
Its not odd or surprising that he neglected to mention this to me; I think we both know it was unnecessary. Shocked, I stared at my screen for minutes, then I did what any hot-blooded girl would do: I searched through all the pictures to see a close-up of her ring (tragically unavailable), stepped out of my office, called my best friend (cried), called my mom (cried), stepped into the bathroom, cleaned up my act, touched up my make-up and carried on with my day. Oh, and somewhere in there, I penned a blog post.
Having had a few days to consider all of this, I gotta say, I think I dodged a bullet on this one. Moreover, I have some advice: if you ever find yourself in a similar situation, I suggest you hold yourself together long enough to get to the company Christmas party, where you proceed to drink loads of expensive wine and then win an iPad. I dunno, it made me feel better.
Also, that boy, the one who I imagined would just up and blow away like a snowflake? Well, one week after graduation he called himself an idiot for not getting my number, and actually, he actually hasn't gone anywhere since. Anywhere that is, except DC, where he has visited me...twice.
Oh, and here are some songs. Xoxoxo.
Adele - Rolling in the Deep
Snoop Dog - Wet (Hahaha, yeah, for real)
Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeroes - Home
Toby Keith - Bullets in the Gun
Marina & the Diamonds - Hollywood
The New Pornographers - Crash Years
Wiz Khalifa - Black & Yellow
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Sunday, December 5, 2010
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.
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.
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