Betsy's Birthday

This picture was too cute NOT to post. Happy Birthday, Bets!

(Check it out - you can actually tell that my eyes are green! I think it's the pink halter that does it. Fantastic!)

Leave Without Pay? At This Point...

So I am waiting for someone - anyone - to get here who can approve my leave so that I can buy a flippin' flight to MI to see my flippin' niece. (Northwest, as shitty as they are [no more free pretzels? wtf?], is currently offering round trip flights for just over $100. I need to get on this bandwagon). I love that the few higher-ups in this office who actually have the authority to allow me to skip out of town have so much of their own time saved up that they don't come to work unless it is almost noon o'clock. What. Ever. COME TO WORK! GAH!

Happy Birthday, Alexis!

I'm an aunt! Aunt Heather! Awwww....

My niece, Alexis, was born at Wyandotte General Hospital in Wyandotte, Michigan at 5 a.m., May 30. Will post obligatory baby picture when I return from MI or when my brother sends me a pic with his freaking camera phone (wasn't that the reason you got the freaking thing, Steven?)

Memorial Day Ridiculousness

The gentlemen at Club 1139 had a party - the craziest one yet, really - for Memorial Day. It began as a simple afternoon barbeque and ended with an empty keg and ten trillion Miller Lite cans, a kiddie pool, neighborly spin-the-bottle, a pink stuffed pig and a garden gnome in bed, and Josh dancing on the table. Again.



The jungle juice was in top alcoholic form, I didn't get sunburned, and lots and lots of adorable-type boys showed up. Nice! In other news, Waayers kicked my ass in foosball. She didn't drink at all though. Hmmmmm... I think that a rematch might be in order... CHEATER!

Oh, and also? Can we talk about DDR? (That's Dance Dance Revolution for those of you not in the loop). Remember Nintendo? No, original Nintendo? Right. Think back to the Track and Field game with the PowerPad where you could run hurdles or compete in the triple jump. That's pretty much what happens in DDR, except that you DANCE along with sweet chart-topping hits by Kylie Minogue and Culture Club! I do think that it is designed to make the entire three-story townhouse shake like it's on the edge of a fault line, however.

I spent most of the party worrying about my brother and his soon-to-be-born daughter. Kari's water broke around noon and I was so nervous that I'd miss a call from my mom, that I spent the entire day walking around wearing my cell phone clipped onto my skirt like a white-trash crack whore. Plus, it was on vibrate. Rowr! I mean, don't get me wrong - while I didn't worry about answering my mom's phone calls drunk off my ass (it didn't quite get to that point, though) - I certainly drank my share of jungle juice. I never got around to playing flip cup though. Next time.

Did I mention the adorable boys?

9:30 Club

Freaking sweet!

Of course, we stayed on the floor rather than punching and kicking our way into the balcony. This was fine. Until people started showing up. We staked out a good location in advance, but as everyone filed in, I could no longer see the stage. And this was before the opening band, Athlete, had ventured onto the stage.

For those not in the know, I am not what you would describe as "tall" or "lanky." My driver's license says, "Height: 5-0" (in relation to my MI license which said, "Height: 50," but whatever). So, more like "vertically challenged."

I know that I can't really complain, because if I had wanted to be able to see everything, I would have gotten there early and stood in front of the stage without moving. But really, Mr. 6'5" guy who stepped on my foot, are you that dense that when you sauntered by, stepped on my foot, turned around to apologize and saw that I was lacking in tallness, you thought that it was prefectly acceptable to stop and stand directly in front of me? GAH! Have some manners! I almost feel bad for punching you in the kidneys. Well, almost punching you.

Anyway, this was my view for most of the night:



All three of those girls in front of me wore glasses. Weird. But yeah, besides the whole "not seeing much" extravaganza, it was an amazing concert. Thanks for the invite, boys!

Snow Patrol

Right. Snow Patrol tonight, beetches!

I love the 9:30 Club. It reminds me of Clutch Cargo in good old Detroit (I'd say Pontiac, but how many people know where that is? And if they do know where that is, would they go there on their own volition? Is it really worse than Detroit? Is that even possible? Questions for the ages...) where I saw The Get Up Kids for the first time. Ah... the memories...

Star Wars, Yay!

Revenge of the Sith. Was. Awesome.

I mean, really awesome. As soon as it ended, I wanted to get home and pop in Episode IV. So very awesome. I'm not a Star Wars freak by any means - I can't recite lines (well, certainly not all of them), I don't know all of the backstory, and I think that the South Park episode that found the boys trying to get George Lucas to stop fucking with his movies was hilarious. But I am a movie lover in general, and after growing up with the first trilogy, I definitely think that this was a fitting end to the Star Wars experience.

I am an emotional girl though - I cried at several points during the film (even at the beginning, when the text began to scroll and the theme music thundered into the theater. That should tell you how emotionally stable I was through Titanic, for example). I did not cry, however, during the "romantic" scenes. Those were laughable. That's my opinion though - see it for yourself!

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In other news, my computer had a little hissy fit when the storm hit last weekend and annihilated the ethernet card. But, thanks to my Patent Office boys, I got a new one, replaced it myself, and everything is fab. Yay!

Cats and Dogs...

... falling from the sky, that is. Crazy rain!

I got out of bed at 7:45 this morning. To be to work by 8:30. Uh huh. Right. Surprisingly, I was only ten minutes late, and that includes the five minutes or so that I stood at the door staring into the driving rain while trying to force myself to go outside. It's a good thing that I don't live on the freaking orange line anymore, because I'd probably still be on it. With a land monster sitting on me again. The proximity of my house to my work is fantastic.

My jeans (yay, casual Fridays!) are soaked through all the way up to my knees. As long as I don't move too much, it's not so bad. Of course, the building's air conditioning is on (and has been since March, for that matter. Apparently, when DC hits 50 degrees, it's such a milestone that we need central air immediately), so my teeth are chattering. I still have this space heater...

So I stumble into work, and discover that the network is down. They don't know when it will be fixed. Marvelous! So staying in bed actually was an option. Internet and email work, so they won't send us home. Dammit. Awesome Roommate was supposed to be at work from 6:30 a.m. to 6:30 p.m. today, but she hadn't left by the time I got out of the shower. I'm hoping that the rain had something to do with it - she was supposed to be there early to catch the wolves to be vaccinated or something. Maybe the wolves get irate when it's raining. Much like Virginia drivers!

But last night was fun - HH at The Pour House. I think that every night should be $1 Bud bottles. And I think that every night should be hot Irish bartender night - "he touched my leg!" I swear, between The Pour House and Ella's, I may never be sober on a Tuesday or Thursday night again.

It's Reno Time!

Okay, so it's no secret that I love Will Ferrell. I love his movies, no matter how bad (ahem, Night at the Roxbury), I love his talk show appearances, and I love his work on SNL. One of my absolute favorite SNL characters was Janet Reno.

Waayers and I were at Potbelly today, enjoying our lunches, and this woman walked by in a blue shift dress. Waayers quickly turned to me and said, "It's Reno time!" I almost fell off the stool. Simply amazing. Scrumtrulescent, if you will.

Saturday...

My plans to get up early and go to Eastern Market were shattered by my desire to stay in bed and watch DVDs on the computer. Why is Clue one of the best movies ever? Answer: Madeline Kahn.

Headed over to Josh/Tucker/Evan’s for the Chili Blow-Off Party. Sitting in the sun with one’s feet in a kiddie pool while drinking beer (well, Cherry Coke, in my case because I’m LAME) and eating homemade chili is a good way to spend the afternoon, let me tell you. Kicking ass in flip cup also helped the situation. The sunburn wasn’t so bad after a while, and there were so many fun people there!

Then it started raining. Crazy rain! It stopped, we all went back outside, and it started up again. By 9, we headed out to AM and a small bar called the Toledo Lounge. Very chill.

The real story starts on the drive home. Rhett and I had NO idea that the drive from Dupont to Union Station would be so eventful! We get to about 13th and L, and we see a large woman walking around purposefully. She was wearing -- and I must warn you that this is graphic -- a mesh body stocking that barely covered her ginormous ass, a thong, and a short jacket. And when I say mesh, I don’t mean tiny little holes. We’re talking 2” x 2” holes. And she was large. Figure it out.

And that’s when she got propositioned. We were laughing so hard, I thought Rhett was going to drive off the road. It was the first hook that either of us ever saw. And what an image to commit to memory!

We kept driving up L, and we saw more hooks! They were coming out of nowhere (Then you stop and look around, and there are people everywhere! People coming out of bushes, what? Accident? Think I better watch for a while!) and strolling up to the cars stuck in traffic. As Rhett’s car was stuck. No hooks for us, but there were a few close calls. We were too busy watching the various reactions of passengers when they were approached. Awesome.

Home. Discovered that the massive amounts of thunder and lightning made Awesome Roommate’s tv CATCH FIRE and my internet to completely stop working. Sweet!

Friday...

Friday night, I met Waayers and Laurel at the Chinatown Chipotle for dinner. We sat outside, to make the people-watching more enjoyable. Why are there so many cops? They were everywhere, walking around flaunting their copness. Some were in uniform, some wore their badges on their belts, some had theirs on a necklace/chain – all had their pants hiked up waaaay too high. We could not figure out what was going on. Then one walked by in what looked like a flippin’ Gestapo uniform and we got a little scared. Weird! Then Laurel showed up and told us that there was some kind of cop convention in town. Well, sure.

A cop car pulls up in front of Chipotle, blatantly ignoring the NO PARKING zone, because it must be an emergency! Nope. This Dylan McKay-looking cop (sans sideburns, alas) gets out and promptly saunters into Chipotle. Whatever. I hate cops who park wherever the hell they please in order to get FOOD. On his way in, he passes this other jackhole who is leaning against his ten-speed like it’s a fucking Porsche, hitting on every girl as she walks by. Yeah, that’s the way to do it, moron. “Hey baby, you like my ride?”

Then Joshy showed up and the four of us went to see Kicking and Screaming with Will Ferrell. Highly amusing and very predictable, but worth every penny just for the coffeehouse scene. If you’ve seen it, you know what I’m talking about. If you haven’t, then go see it and then tell me how lame I am because I thought that the coffeehouse scene was hilarious. I do laugh at everything, after all. The previews, though, which included the new Bewitched and Harry Potter, were SWEET.

Then it was off to The Brickskellar where I was a total girl and drank me some Woodchuck ciders instead of Guinness even though I could really go for a Guinness right about now. Mmmmm…

Weekend Ridiculousness

Okay, so this weekend. Was. Ridiculous.

To avoid the longest post ever, I will divide the weekend into each day for your reading pleasure.

Enjoy!

STADIUM THIS WAY

Okay, so it's not the best picture, I know. Really, though, the sign was ginormous in person. We laughed like morons when we stepped off the train and saw it. (Blah, blah, there are two exits from the station - one's closer to RFK Stadium, I know. But still, ginormous sign).

I also love how the guy on the left smiled for the camera.

Spring!

Thank goodness spring is finally here - fashionably late and being a bit of a wallflower, but still. Even I thought that the "winter" was lingering an abnormally long time - and I'm usually the one to make fun of the Calis while they complain.

But isn't this picture beautiful? It's almost like I didn't take it with my Elph camera, get the film developed, and then have Steve scan it for me at work when no one was looking...

Anyway, beautiful PINK tulips in front of Union Station. This was the same day as the Nationals game. Those pictures didn't turn out. And I looked damn cute in my Nats hat. Ah well. Next time.

Ms. Psycho-Senility 2005

As a front desk receptionist (with an MA, but whatever, at least it's a job, right?), I get a ton of wacko calls. As the receptionist at my place of business, I get ridiculously whacked-out calls.

One thing that people across the Institution tend to do is transfer the wackos to randoms. I have absolutely NO idea how today's wacko got to my extension, but it was either someone who is completely clueless as to what my office does, or someone who deeply hates my office and wanted to give me a fucking stress-induced attack.

Please note that I am transcribing the call almost word-for-word, though the senile bitch on the other line did not let me finish a sentence, so I've included the words that I would have said, had I not been interrupted:

"Hello, Office of That Which is Wasting My Time and Not Paying Me Enough?"

"YES. I NEED TO SPEAK TO SOMEONE ABOUT A COPY OF THE GETTYSBURG ADDRESS."

"Thank you for your call, ma'am, but this office doesn't have anything to do with artifacts."

"I NEED SOMEONE TO TELL ME HOW MUCH THIS COPY OF THE GETTYSBURG ADDRESS COSTS. ALSO, I HAVE A COPY OF THE ARTICLES OF CONFEDERATION."

"Ma'am, the National Archives..."

"NO. NO NO NO. I NEED SOMEONE TO TELL ME HOW MUCH THEY ARE WORTH."

"Yes, well, according to federal law, curators at the Institution of Low Pay are not permitted to give appraisals on..."

"NO! NO NO NO! I must TALK to someone who can tell me about these documents."

(Does she really have a copy of the Gettysburg Address and a copy of the Articles of Confederation? All the signs at the mental ward are pointing to "no," but I can't just hang up on her...)

First of all, I have absolutely NO idea why this whackjob was transferred to me. My office handles grants and contracts - we aren't even in a GD museum, so why would we have anything to do with documents that obviously only exist in this woman's head? Who in their right MIND would transfer her to me?

"Okay ma'am, let me put you on hold while I look up the best place to transfer you."

"Don't you DARE transfer me ag..."

Lah di dah. Where in the hell do I transfer this psychopath? Ooooh, I have it! Archives!

"Ma'am, please hold while..."

"WHERE ARE YOU TRANSFERRING ME TO?"

I got bitchy. It was unavoidable. "Ma'am, if you hadn't interrupted me, you would have heard me say that I am transferring you to the Archives." And I put her on HOLD.

And then it happened. I dialed the wrong number. I didn't mean to. My finger slipped. Oops. I now had a situation. I could get back on the line and explain to her that I made a mistake, which obviously was NOT going to happen, or I could continue on and let her annoy the poor soul at the next unfortunate extension.

And then it hit me: Why should I fix the dialing mistake? The person before me must have made a mistake as well. And because Ms. Psycho-Senility 2005 was transferred to me, she didn't have my number = absolutely no way of calling me back... It all made perfect sense!

So I transferred her.

I apologize to whoever answered the line. Profusely.

Fan-frickin'-tastic!

Oh my gosh. Stop - just for a moment. I have fantastic news!

Everyone relish in the fact that the escalators at the Union Station metro are finally fixed! I mean, it's only been a month and a half, after all. For Metro, that's probably ahead of schedule. I can just imagine that phone call:

"I say, Phil? It's Tom. Fine, fine. That escalator at Union Station? Well, it's broken again. Not enough funds, you say? We wasted that much money on the "Stand to the Right" floor stickers - the ones that wore off right around the beginning of tourist season? Wow, that's a huge amount of cash. Well, long as I get my paycheck, you know what I'm sayin'? Ha ha ha! Anyway, I have a grand idea! If we send two workmen to Union Station about every other day or so, it will give the impression that we're doing something about it. It's not too huge of a stop, after all. The DC Visitor's Bureau says it's one of the most visited DC landmarks, not the most visited. So it probably won't affect too many people. I'm sure that the number of people slowly trudging up and down the one working escalator whilst stuck behind a woman in four inch heels that are gravitationally incomprehensible as she stops every few steps to send a text message will be kept to a minimum. And at the end of the summer, we'll raise fares again. Sure! Why the hell not?"

Well, thanks to Phil and Tom, it's fixed! Thanks guys! And thank you, Metro!

Books and Such

During the week, there are a few things that stay in my work tote at all times. SmarTrip card, umbrella, chapstick (just in case my lips hurt real bad), and To Kill a Mockingbird. If there has ever been a book that I read over and over again, this is it. It's small, helps tune out the tourists, fills in for the Express, and is one damn good piece of literature.

I decided that since work is turning me to a depressive existence, I would peruse flights to Detroit. It was Mother's Day weekend, after all, so I wasn't expecting much. But lo! Super cheap tickets leaving from Reagan in two days. Done and done! So I flew on Friday, surprised the hell out of the Lady, and get some much-needed attention. Extra bonus: she had gotten me a copy of Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie. I know that this book is written for kids, but like the Harry Potter series (love!), it has dark undertones as well as a fantastic sense of humor. Barrie is really, really funny! As I'm reading it, I forget that it was written over one hundred years ago. It's a fast read, and I am loving it. It might join Mockingbird in my tote.

I also got to Ann Arbor on Saturday night and had a wonderful night on the town with B. We hit all the good spots: Red Hawk, Stucchi's, and even Good Time Charley's (love how the margaritas taste exactly the same as three years ago, the bouncers are the same, and the music changes from college radio to hard-core gangster rap at the stroke of 11. Ah, memories). Walking through central campus was calming and actually not as sad as I thought it would be. I miss A^2, but just in a "I love that I was able to spend four years here" kind of way and not a "I wish I was back here" way. The fact that I had to set my alarm for 6:30 a.m. in order to get back to Sgate and then the airport didn't even bother me after such an amazing night! Friends like B are hard to find. I'm glad that I rediscovered him. Wonder if he'll ever make it to DC...

I got back to Capitol Hill around 1 p.m. on Sunday. So much mail! I found a big box of books on the porch - books that I forget that I ordered. I have my work cut out for me, that's for sure:

His Excellency
by Joseph Ellis

John James Audubon
by Richard Rhodes

Sex With Kings
by Eleanor Herman

Elizabeth & Mary
by Jane Dunn

The Final Solution
by Michael Chabon

I think I will be starting with The Final Solution. It's about Sherlock Holmes (not Nazis and the Holocaust - I have enough of those already), so that's just flat-out awesome! Will it fit in my tote?

It's Not Just For Tourists Anymore

Happy Hour at Hard Rock Cafe tonight.

I know.

But it will be funny.

No, we'll just make fun of them.

Because they're obnoxious.

Well, if I showed up at a restaurant in bermuda shorts and Teva sandals on a 55 degree day, I would be inviting someone to make fun of me.

Yeah, I don't know why I moved to a town full of tourists, either.

No, I don't have rage!

Oh, right. I forgot about that.

Of course!

True, there will probably be school groups.

No.

Right, but getting hit on by 14-year-old boys is gross!

I know what you mean - she's a big sloot.

That's why I didn't wear a skirt today.

Nah, let's sit at the bar - hopefully that bartender from last time will be there to give us free beer like last time.

I know, wasn't that awesome?

Was he cute? I don't remember.

You're probably right. Okay, check you later!