Monday, August 29, 2005

One, two, three.....Red Light

I had a hair appointment last Tuesday and for the life of me I could not remember what time it was. So, I called the salon and asked them. 12:30. No problem. I leave the house with just enough time to drive into DC. I am not a very punctual person by nature, so if I make it someplace on time I consider myself lucky. For some reason I was having one of those mornings where everything was going my way. It is a bad cliche to say that I was hitting all the green lights, but I was hitting all the green lights. No joke. Green lights all up 14th street. I cruised through the National Mall on a beautiful day in peak tourist season. Unheard of. By the time I crossed over to 15th I wasn't going to let anything stop me. The traffic Gods were guiding me through about 10 street lights. I am invincible. Watch out little boy with a bucket trying to cross the street, I am not stopping for you. I made it from Constitution to U Street in 9 minutes. 9 minutes, for all you non DC people is insane. It is like making it up the SE expressway from the gas tanks to South Station in 9 minutes. Ridiculous. I then find a place to park within one block of the salon. Hello? This is lunch time, I am supposed to circle the neighborhood 6 or 7 times while continually checking the clock and cursing at myself for being late, again. I bounce into the building so proud of the fact that I am 10 minutes early for my appointment. I could have stopped for a drink or something. The receptionist takes my name. She then asks me for my last name. A little weird, but I roll with it. It is here where the last 25 minutes of bliss come crashing down. "I don't have you here." I explain that I called to make sure, talked to so-and-so, she told me 12:30, blah, blah. She continues checking the computer system. "Oh, OK I found it. You have an appointment next Tuesday at 12:30." I would really have loved to get mad at someone, but the fact is, I am a dumbass. I also would really love to say that this is the first time that something like this has happened to me, but it is so very not. The point is, tomorrow at lunch time, I am going to be stuck in bumper to bumper traffic all over DC. It is inevitable. And that parking spot that was waiting for me last week, it will be laughing at me, mocking me and the new ride as we try to find a space.

I think I need a personal assistant.

Sunday, August 28, 2005

Number 3, not number 4

Just a quick note that blogger Jennifer Garrett is challenging herself to read 100 new blogs in 100 days, and then write about them. Jen chose to highlight my little blog here on day three. She was either drunk or blinded by our shared love for the Olde Towne Team, either way I am glad that she included me.

I am off to girls night.

Peace.

Saturday, August 27, 2005

Bye-bye, goodbye I tried


My Dearest Meskeena,

You and I have spent a lot of happy times together and it is with a heavy heart that I must tell you the following news. We are done. I am moving on. I know, I know, we have been through so much. However, I have found another and I need to let you go.

Please don't cry. You have to remember that our whole relationship has been a series of ups and downs. When we first started together I wasn't very happy. You were not the model that I wanted, and you sure as hell were not the color that I wanted. But, I was able to look past your displeasing exterior and consider what you could offer us as a team. You had just gotten out of another relationship, so I focused on what everyone was telling me was your best asset, reliability. I gave you a fancy Berber name, introduced you to my family and friends, and we were off.

Those first few years were probably our best. We went everywhere together. I took you back to school in South Carolina where you escorted my friends and me everywhere. Charleston, Savannah, Florida, North Carolina, you name it we went there. You were even there with me after a long weekend in Memphis when we were pulled over for doing 90 by Officer Randy Huckbee of the Tennessee State Police. You stayed strong when he approached the car and mocked our home state, "MATTA-CHOO-DETTS, did I say dat right?" You didn't react because you knew that our home state was superior. I wanted to drive over his foot, but you were wiser and did not let me. You are a good woman.

You continued to be strong despite all of our moves, back to Amherst, to Brockton, and eventually here to Virginia. But it has been here in Virginia where our relationship took its downward spiral. To start of with, it was not really your fault, that jackhole who rear ended us in SE and the drove away is really to blame. He left you beaten and bruised so bad that from the back, with your lights popped out, you kind of looked like you had wings. I still didn't care. I literally taped you back together and you still drove like a pro. But then something changed. I think perhaps you were ashamed of your haggard appearance and your behavior was your way of showing me. First it was the overheating. Not cool, especially in a snow storm. Then your transmission started slipping on me. It was also about this time that your interior flooded every time it rained. During the summer months the inside of the car turned into a sauna, while in the winter the windows would frost on the inside. Since your heat barely worked I had to use an ice scraper on the inside of the car, redefining the term ghetto fabulous.

Last year when I pumped some life back in you, it looked like we were going to make it. Dave and his Dad gave you new breaks, then they banged out your rear with a sledgehammer and put your lights back in. They even fixed your transmission. No more duct tape and we were like newlyweds again. However, it was short lived. Again you were acting up. I could not take it anymore and searched for alternatives. On Thursday, when I was getting ready to take you to the dealer to look for a new car, I think that you knew something was wrong. We went through our routine of loading you up with a few gallons of water so you don't loose your cool on the road. Then, at our first stop just a block away, you let it all go. You dropped all your water, essentailly peeing on the street. I was embarassed, but I knew that this was really the end. I could not handle you behaving like a child in public. It made my decision a lot easier.

So, it is done. I have already entered into a new relationship. My new partner has things that you could never offer me, like air conditioning and heat. It also has a system that will not let me lock my keys in the car, and we both know how important that is. Granted you have a V6 and that is something I will miss, but the new guy does not have rust stains on the hood shaped like the seven continents.

So Goodbye. I will look back on our time together with joy. I wish I could say that I will miss you, but do you see your replacement? It has no name, but it sure is smokin'!

Word.

Thursday, August 25, 2005

The Beautiful People


I promised stories from my trip, so fasten your seatbelts boys and girls the ride is about to begin. The wedding was beautiful, but that is boring. All weddings are beautiful unless you hate the people getting married. The phrase over-top-was invented to describe this wedding weekend. Now, I know I mentioned it before, and I know I cannot stop talking about, lord knows I cannot stop thinking about, but if you are going to spend a crap load of money on a hotel room, do it at the Four Seasons. And do it in Beverly Hills. If you can throw in about 15-20 people that you know, do that too. If you can do it for free, I recommend that as well. It was like fantasy camp for adults.


The rehearsal dinner was right on the beach in Santa Monica. We ate on the rooftop deck that overlooked the ocean. We ate, we drank, and were merry. We were shuttled to and from the hotel all weekend. Yes bartender I will have another. An excellent touch and one I think you should add if you plan on spending a 1/4 mill on your wedding. Don't hold your breath it won't be at mine.


The night really got started after the dinner back at the hotel. We ran upstairs to change and get more comfortable. When I left the bathroom looked like a hurricane had blown by, all our crap was everywhere. I opened it to find all of my toiletries lined up on mat in full bibliographical order. Do you see this? The housekeeper even faced all the labels. It was like I had my own house elves. Crazy. Anyway, the elevator was taking forever to take us back down to the bar. For a moment I considered walking down. Then, ding, door opens. There was one guy standing inside with his bag, and instinctively I said "Hello." He looked up at me and said "Hello" back and it was at that moment that I realized he was Eric Clapton. Yes, that Eric Clapton. Holy crap we are riding in an elevator with Eric Clapton and Dave has not even realized it yet. It is very hard to get your boyfriend's attention in a mirrored elevator and not make it obvious. I didn't even try. Finally, Dave looks at the guy and realizes who he is. We just kind of laughed to ourselves. And, no I did not say anything to him. The last thing the poor guy wants is some neurotic woman who just took a picture of the toiletries in her bathroom to bother him. I did freak out after he walked away.

After that my whole weekend was a celebrity potpourri. A little Anna Kournikova over here, some Winona Ryder over there, Misha Barton swimming by me in the pool, Jeremy Irons dashing through the bar, LaToya Jackson sitting at the next table, James Belushi running on the beach, and Samuel L. Jackson back in the elevator with me. The only one that I interacted with was John Mayer. I was standing with a few woman chatting, when Dave's best friend comes up to me and whispers in my ear, "Your boy is getting jealous cause John Mayer keeps checking you out." Now Mr. Mayer was sitting at a nearby table with a friend eating. Was I excited, yes. Were they exaggerating the circumstances, most likely. Did I care, no. A little while later I sat down with another friend of ours who was sitting across from said celebrity. We were having a good time and we wanted to take our picture. I started to put my arm out and do the whole self portrait thing, when I just thought "ahh what the fuck?" and asked John Mayer to take the picture for us. Had it been anyone else I would have asked them. It was the least he could do after looking at my ass. This story has gotten a lot of mileage as you can imagine. This officially makes me a name dropping celebrity whore, but when you are this fabulous does it really matter?

Me tired. More later.




Touch the ice boys, don't be afraid.

Monday, August 22, 2005

Are you sponge worthy?

I am ridiculously competitive. I always have been, I don't know why. It probably has something to do with growing up with so many siblings, but whatever the reason I hate loosing. Especially around a lot of people. That is the worst. I am an ugly looser, but a very ugly winner.

Today was our company picnic and the three sections of the company were competing against each other in the silliest games you have ever seen. Luckily for me my boss is just as competative as I am, so for weeks we were rallying everyone to compete. I even sent out an email to the whole staff yesterday telling them that if they did not bring sneakers to play in they could not have any beer. They all knew that I was not kidding. For weeks I have been talking smack about how our team was going to destroy the rest of the company. I even went so far as to tell my staff that if they did not "Bring it" today they might as well not show up for work in Tuesday. Thank God no one takes me seriously.

But, my aptly named "Green Monsters" brought it today. We won the "Poop the Potato" contest which involved grabbing a potato with your ass cheeks, running and dropping it a bucket. As well as the water balloon toss, the "dizzie lizzie", and the one contest that I competed in, the sponge toss. The goal of this contest was to toss a wet sponge onto a tray that was resting on your partners head, and then balancing the sponge a short distance so you can dump it into a bucket. I went 6 for 6, thank you very much! It's OK you can call me the queen of the sponges. The thrill of victory, even in such stupid, meaningless contests is so great.

Since I am the only person that has worked for every part of the company I pretty much know every employee. This is both good and bad. Good that I had a great time taunting everyone with my teams prowess, but bad that when the water balloon contest endend yours truely became target number one. This is the one area that I definitly did not win. Don't get me wrong, I hit many a strategic target with my water baloons. I hid behind cars, snuck behind trees, and nailed several people, some more than once. But I clearly got my ass kicked. I went so far as to hide next to our company owner and her 2 kids so that I would not get wet. That worked for about 3 minutes until she caught on and feared for the life of her children. By the time I left my whole body was soaked. I had to make a stop for beverages on the way home. As I entered 7-11 I realized how crazy I must have looked because a young boy was staring at me with his mouth open. Now my hair was wet, my shorts looked like I peed myself and my shirt was drenched. Not very surprising that this kid was looking at me funny. So as I passed him I looked him in the eye and said "I lost in a water balloon fight." His 9 year old face registered that this made complete sense for a grown woman to be in a water balloon fight, smiled, said OK and went on his merry way. There is nothing quite as fun as a group of adults behaving like complete children to put me in a good mood.

Sunday, August 21, 2005

"Take my picture by the pool, cause I'm the next big thing..."

I am back in DC, back to the humidity, the mosquitoes, the West nile virus they found in my neighborhood, work, the mess I left our apartment, and the head cold that I brought with me from the west coast. Damn, is this coming off as exciting as it really is?

I took a crapload of pictures, as I always do. Lived several hundred great stories, some of which I will share with you in due time. Overall the trip was a blast and I wish it could have lasted longer. Most importantly I was able to clear my head, despite the cold, because there is nothing like a good road trip to feed your soul. The difference between traveling by car vs. backpacking and taking trains is very significant. You get to see a wider array of places in the car, but you do not get to feel the intimacy of a place like you do while hoofing it. The pace of the train appeals to me more. As much as I love to travel I hate flying. I am just thankful I have someone to hold my hand during takeoff.

Alas, reality is waiting here for me. I hope to postpone it until at least morning.

And just for the record it is a drawing not a painting.

Friday, August 19, 2005

The Reigning World Champion

I am the queen of Trivial Pursuit. I will kick your ass up and down the street several times. Especially if your name is Ann or Dave. Ahh, victory is so very sweet.

But not if your name is Neil. He is my Achilles.

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

Temporary exhile

Have you seen that Celebrity Cruise commercial where the couple is going back to work and they are complaining that their personal butler knew exactly how they liked their coffee while they were on vacation? I am still on vacation and I feel that way. From now on I am only staying at the four seasons. I can't fathom having to stay anywhere else. They brought me frozen watermelon while I sat by the pool! I might start crying just thinking about it.

I am making this short because the rare northern California sun is calling me. But I will leave you with an entirely true statement. After the wedding on Saturday when I was all dressed up hanging out at the hotel bar, John Mayer was checking me out and then took my picture. How's that for a story that you want to hear about?! You will have to wait until I am back east, really feeling exhiled.

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

"I'm going back to Cali, Cali, Cali..."

I opted for the LL version over the Biggie version. Keepin it old school.

For real, I'm going on vacation. Ten days, my guy, the sun, the surf, LA, PCH, Ann and San Fran. Woohoo!! Most of you know how much I love traveling, but recently it has taken on drug like qualities. It creates euphoria even before I set foot on the plane. Thinking about traveling gets me through my work week and pumps crazy amounts of happy chemicals into my brain. If I am not careful this might lead to an addiction and I may never work again. I would be OK with that.

We don't leave until tomorrow morning, but the reality is that I am not packed, haven't finished my pre-trip shopping, and have a days worth of work to do. But my mind is gone. I am already floating in the ocean.

So, if you are looking for me next week I would check poolside at the four seasons, the Santa Monica pier, the beaches of Carmel, Ghirardelli, or maybe SBC park. If you can't find me, good. Just know that whatever I am doing I am enjoying it.

Smell ya.

Monday, August 08, 2005

"Ladies with an attitude, fellas that were in the mood..."



I love my Urban Family.

As of late I have been neglecting my DC friends. I luckily had dinner with Derek and Catherine tonight and it was much delayed, and much needed. I believe that you reach a point in your life where you start to weed out your friends. In you early 20's you have a larger group of friends that seem very important, but over time you discover what you are really looking for from your friends and focus on that. Through many trials and tribulations over the past four years Derek and Cat have been there for me, and I am truly grateful for that. Hell, Cat is a pioneer. A pioneer I tell you.

Everyone needs a night where they can go to their favorite cheap DC restaurant and discuss their lives over a liter and a half of Chianti. We had the same waiter tonight that took care of us on my birthday in 2002. He made quite an impression on us that night, as did many other events that evening that deserve their own blog post at some point. So we had a great time, compared our lives to key scenes in Gone With the Wind, did a lot of laughing, a little crying, and an appropriate amount of dancing. Commonweath Crossing didn't know what hit it. Neither did all the people walking on the P-tomac. Cat, Meaghan, Derek and his Jeep are a lethal combination. I was there the night that Derek and Catherine got engaged, and if I had a scanner I would post that picture up for you. My own personal Will and Grace. Does that make me Karen? That might make the most sense. I'm OK with that too. So thanks to you both for an awesome night.

My favorite guy is playing some of my favorite songs on his guitar, so I am ending this. He was there for that B-Day in 2002 as well. Seems like just yesterday...

Saturday, August 06, 2005

Two parts story, one part history, four parts photography

Today is the 60th Anniversary of the dropping of the atomic bomb at Hiroshima. Just a few weeks ago Dave and I went to the new Air and Space museum at Dulles airport. They created a museum in an airplane hangar in order to put full size planes inside. Very cool. The original Air and Space museum had part of the Enola Gay on display, but now that they have the hangar she is back in once piece. A walkway is set up so you can look right into the cockpit.



The history just kind of punches you in the face while you are gazing at her. She looks so shinny and pretty, but facilitated so much distruction. I think the sign of a good museum is one that can really make you think about our place in time. What would have happened if she failed that mission? Or what if we hadn't done it first? We must accept our full history, balance the so called "good" or "evil." As humans we are not inherently good or evil, and neither are our actions. This is something we often forget while looking at our past. Somewhere in the middle there is our lesson and it is ours to find. In this case we can do it while pondering tons of metal.



The best part of the museum is the Space Shuttle Enterprise. From a significant distance I witnessed a space shuttle launch and it was pretty great. Everybody stopped what they were doing, went outside and just stared up. Seeing the space shuttle upclose is equally as cool. It's the fucking space shuttle for Christ's sake! Of course it is awesome. Talk about making you think about your place in time.



There is also an SR-71 there and even thought I couldn't give a flying rats ass about that plane, I think I got a cool picture. So there ya go.



Word.

Thursday, August 04, 2005

City of Champions

Just when you think that Brockton is making a comeback...

We made CNN. Unbelievable. What the fuck was that guy thinking. How do you grow up knowing that your Dad died while he was holding you? How do stand in court and try to defend yourself? I think it was right across the street from the Cod- reason number 3,004 for why the Spa is better.

This ranks up their with the 60 minutes special in the late 80's about our former Police Chief that was stealing coke from the lockup and using it. Fabulous.
Although it wasn't national media, my 6th grade class was the background shot for a front page article in the Globe about how drug infested Brockton was. They photographed some guy who had called the police several times about druggies coming into his store. My class was playing kickball behind him. The caption was "Man struggles with crime while these children play..." Or something like that. Ehh, we all turned out fine.

It looks like Lynn was trying to keep up with Brockton this week too. NTS should be happy that his hometown can represent like Brockton.

All the time when I tell people where I am from they get this look on their face. It is a combination of surprise and confusion. You? From there? I defend BrockVegas. It is better now. We made the Forbes 100 list for up and coming cities in the U.S. We have the Rox. Blah, Blah, Blah. Then some dumb shit like this happens. We are still the City of Champions. At least the sign say so.

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

Like a bug in a spider web




Being at Fenway this past weekend only solidified my baseball angst. No "cheer now" bullshit, no one not paying attention to the game, no cotton eyed joe, and no dumb ass entertain the masses crap. Just pure baseball. I love it. I am writing that manual damn it, you just wait. I was able to come up with a whole new chapter on Friday. It is titled "Peek-a-boo" and describes how women should either, A- pull up their damn pants, B- not wear a thong jacked up their ass crack, specifally pink ruffle thongs that have no business on a woman nevermind an orka, or C- wear a shirt that covers said ass crack loving thong. These rules should be followed in all of society, but most ecspecially when you know you will be getting up and down repeatedly to let people into your row.

I learned several new things at home this past week.
- Getting a 2 year old in and out of a bathing suit and a wet suit before she pees on you is a lot more challenging than you might think.
- Hearing that same two year old tell you that she loves you is one of the best feelings in the world.
- Niko makes a mean chocolate chip pancake.
- Watching Sox games in HD is unreal. You can actually identify people in the crowd.
- I make better time on the road than Dave does. BrockVegas to NYC in 3 hours is no joke. It is a simple equation, drinking less=having to pee less=less stops=getting home faster.
- Be careful what you say about creeps on escalators who are trying to climb on your back, your sister might know them.
- Tim Horton's is no Dunkin' Donuts
- Watching someone lick dingleberries off of an Ox is disgusting and will make you almost vomit.
- My beach, OK our beach, is the best beach in the world.
- I still miss all you crazy Massholes.

At least I get Tim in a few weeks!!!

Word.

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

Before the Llamas



You can't tell me that these are not the prettiest window boxes that you have ever seen. I mean, just think of what they look like now all grown out. Whoever planted these must have a had insight into the proper celestial planting times as well as a tide chart for Hingham harbor. Two essential elements needed to plant window box flowers. I also admire the choice of no white flowers. Pink is the new white. Beautiful, just beautiful.