Archive for May, 2007

Sadly, there will be no wine available

May 16, 2007 | Filed under: Socially Awkward Barbie™, Whoopdie Doo

“Everything becomes a little different as soon as it is spoken out loud.” ~Hermann Hesse

As part of The Great Bedroom Crap Cleanout of 2007, I came across folders upon notebooks upon binders of old essays and papers. My favorite was my musician portfolio in which I was continuously told to learn very basic C major scales or else my clarinet would be shoved up my right nostril. Another was my public speaking portfolio. It was full of ‘A’s and high praise for my general presence in a room therefore being able to captivate an audience’s attention from point blank. My really great presence in which I captivate the audience with my birds nest afro and shitty wardrobe.

I also have a tendency to either mumble or speak with a certain celerity and narcissism that compels people to focus less on the words coming out of my mouth but more on throwing hard objects at the center of my often oily forehead. Have I mentioned my proclivity to use the word ‘fuck’? Or have you all not noticed that?

Given the above, I feel the need to notify and warn that I will be speaking at a rather public venue this summer. Sandwiched between two of my best friends. During which we will all be sharing a prescription from the benzodiazepine family.

Soon to be pooping rainbows

May 14, 2007 | Filed under: Comes And Goes, Whoopdie Doo

“You must start with a positive attitude or you will surely end without one.”  ~Carrie Latet

Yesterday afternoon I drove through my father’s development in my disgusting, bird shit covered, bumper scratched car. A car in desperate need of a good wash and possibly a shine and a repaint to make up for the number of parking columns I’ve run into over the years.

As I was driving quiet upstate New York suburban development streets, I was greeted warmly by women walking with babies attached to their chests in a bjorn. A man riding bikes with his two children and an older gentleman just walking and a woman with a dog. At every turn, they each smiled and waved as I passed through. Like I lived there and we had been neighbors for years and borrowed multiple cups of sugar and swapped stories about Bob’s awesome tulips. They were all just so damn friendly.

In DC, driving through Dupont, I’m more likely to get a finger waved in front of me or want to do evil things to a family of four who can’t maneuver a simple traffic circle. Yesterday, when someone had the audacity to make a left hand turn, I didn’t have to physically restrain myself from getting out of the car and removing their kidneys with chopsticks. Because people who make left hand turns deserve nothing but awful horrible things. Instead, I sat and waited and smiled and continued on to the car wash. At the car wash where they lost my antenna and once again where I didn’t lose my shit out of fear of missing out on listening to NPR on the drive to work come Monday morning.

Everyone here smiles. They’re friendly. They leave their front doors unlocked and I can leave the sun roof open without fearing that anyone in Clifton Park is going to steal my radio. It’s all so damn peaceful. Even this morning, at work, on my first day, everyone was actually happy to be there. And coming from a place where I threatened to hurl myself off the balcony every other hour and/or wanted to do serious harm to people unable to merge onto 395, I would say that all of this ‘niceness’ will do me some good.

Moving in

May 13, 2007 | Filed under: Humdrum, La Madre

“Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.” ~Elizabeth Stone

After lunch at Chef Geoff’s with Kimber and LB, I departed for Upstate NY. Approximately 20 minutes into the trip my eyeballs were falling out of my head and I was adjusting so that I was on top of the steering wheel in order not to fall asleep. So I stopped between DC and Baltimore and took an hour long nap in a Best Buy parking lot.

When I finally got to my mother’s abode, a mere six hours later, I walked in the door and bellowed: “Hello! I’m here! Forever! Happy Mother’s day”

She sighed heavily and looked crestfallen while I dragged seven suitcases inside: “I would have rather gotten an ipod.”

Whatever, I tried.

Since that warm greeting I’ve cleaned the bathroom and my desk off so that I’d have a place to sit on my ass and pick my ears and/or write. The process of deep cleaning drawers is a cathartic one. It’s like a mini treasure hunt for all things circa 1996. Which means finding my copy of Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing and an American Girls catalogue with the pages dog eared for all the cool accessories for Addy. She was going to be one tricked out Civil War era doll.

It’s always amazing the random things I once held near and dear to me, shoved away in a drawer and long forgotten. Things that I just had to have forever and now almost 10 years later, I look at a photo of Nsync on the cover of CosmoGirl!, and question just how many winecoolers had been imbibed for me to think that Lance Bass was hot.

Some things are being gently picked through, as if I’ll find that one thing that’s been missing for so long. Some things will just be dropped into a hefty bag. And some things will be stared at for several minutes. Looking at all of the details and then placed gently back into the drawer for another time.

The end of The Great Moving Caper

May 11, 2007 | Filed under: The Great Moving Caper

“All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on.” ~Havelock Ellis

In case you wanted to know how the packing and moving is going:

I’m so over moving. Moving is dumb. And the reason for the wine is not to drink myself into a stupor while unpacking, it’s because in Upstate NY I highly doubt that Prosecco is $6.99.

True story

May 10, 2007 | Filed under: Oh The Stupidity You'll See, The District Of Columbia, The Great Moving Caper

“Before we work on artificial intelligence why don’t we do something about natural stupidity?” ~Steve Polyak

Last evening, a beautiful one at that, was my goodbye party. On a roof top deck where I imbibed more than one drink (gasp!) and cried. It was a wonderful time with my absolute favorite people in the world.

Then on the way home, this conversation took place:

Scene: DC Cab on U Street after a quick stop at Ben’s Chilli Bowl

Him: Where are you from?

Me: New York

Him: Oh, I can tell. You just don’t sound like you’re from around here

10 minutes later

Me: You can stop here

Him: What’s the fare?

Me: $8.80

Him: (looking at me from the rearview mirror and sounding truly shocked) You just sound so much like how the white people talk. You sound like those white girls.

Me: and for that? You’re getting EXACT CHANGE (proceeds to count out 80 cents in NICKLES and PENNIES) (ass)