Archive for the 'The District Of Columbia' Category

I’m kind of a big deal

July 16, 2007 | Filed under: Just Add Alcohol, Oh The Stupidity You'll See, The District Of Columbia

“A sense of humor… is needed armor. Joy in one’s heart and some laughter on one’s lips is a sign that the person down deep has a pretty good grasp of life.” ~Hugh Sidey

Now is as good a time as any to admit that I am perpetually late. I always have been and always will be. It’s chronic and I probably should get help with my procrastination tactics and yet it just continues and manifests itself as rather flaky behavior. Thus I look like a lame ass who is easily distracted by shiny objects and is unable to tell time.

I had excellent intentions to impress Abi. Because, I presumed her to be classy and witty and she once promised to send me Trader Joe’s products, so I was hoping that if I impressed her then maybe she’d send me my beloved Macaroni and Cheese. Of course upon my ridiculously late arrival to meet her, I had to first stop and grope my best friend’s sister and then turned around and lo’ there was Abi and lo, I had failed miserably at retaining any cool points that I may have previously had with her. Truth be told I was late, I obviously am big on groping and I can’t play shuffleboard for shit.

To make matters worse, as we were departing the bar, I just HAD to stop and say hello to someone else, because I’m super important* and I generally flit my way about the city meeting and greeting and schmoozing. With a general ‘look at me! I’m fucking fantastic’ demeanor**. Actually, the person that I HAD to say hello to was Zandria. And it was on of those odd, I’ve had two beers and perhaps I’m still drunk from the night before but I swear to God, I KNOW that woman, kind of moments. I swaggered up to say hello with an abrupt “Hi, I’m Heather”. Because OBVIOUSLY, she should know who I am just by that statement. She did. We shook hands and then I saw my reflection and noted that the first impression both Zandria and Abi would have of me is a girl who wears brown tops with black flip flops and keeps her hair in some odd bird’s nest type fashion on top of her head.

So to recap: I’m late, I’m flaky, I can’t dress myself and my lord, THE HAIR.

Thankfully, some deity was looking down at me on Friday night and both Abi – who is lovely, classy and witty as hell and Zandria – who is taller than in pictures and seemed nice in the 20 seconds that I spoke to her– appreciated my oft randomness and well noted lush like qualities. And perhaps I am a fun person to meet…and you know, modest as hell.

The way I see it, despite the above faux pas, I was rather tame around these class act ladies, as opposed to the end of the evening, when left to my own devices and friends who enjoy a Miller light or Seven. Which kind of looked like this:

And that? That is what many of you have to look forward to in Chicago. I’m just going to apologize in advance.

*Borrowed from Schnozz
**For the record, I fucking can’t stand schmoozing and I’m pretty bad about it. And in addition to being perpetually late, I’m perpetually socially awkward.

In which I roll my eyes so much that they fall out of my head

July 13, 2007 | Filed under: Oh The Stupidity You'll See, The District Of Columbia

“Visits always give pleasure - if not the arrival, the departure.” ~Portuguese Proverb

My last trip to DC prior to my move in 2001 was during an 8th grade field trip of which I remember very little. Not because of the amount of alcohol I consumed, because shocker I didn’t become Queen Lush until college, but because it was rather uneventful. We ate at some Mexican restaurant and stayed at a Holiday Inn with a balcony. Our chaperones taped the doors at night so that they’d know whether or not we little kidlets, had tried to escape to go to second base with the opposite sex, who were sleeping right next door.

I remember arriving and being on the metro though and busting out a mini-box of ritz crackers and having some large black woman tell me that eating on the metro was a major faux pas. Duly noted and I discontinued with my obviously tourist like behavior. Because it was RUDE and I had MANNERS.

Tuesday on the metro there was a family of 17. Not hyperbole but honest to God truth that there was a family of 17 with 9 children. The children were sitting on the floor – during rush hour – on the red line with green Starbucks straws. And with these straws they were (and I am going to use caps so that you can comprehend the absurdity of this situation) PUTTING PIECES OF CHEWED UP PAPER IN ONE END AND SPITTING THEM OUT. SPIT BALLS. ON THE MOTHER FUCKING METRO.

Seriously? Is this how children are allowed and taught to behave when visiting a new city? To throw spitballs on public transit? I don’t go to Iowa and throw spitballs on your corn farm, so I’d appreciate if you didn’t come to my hometown and throw spitballs or scream loudly or act like heathens.

I swear that tourists should be forced to register with MPD before coming into the city. That way they can be shunned and avoided at all costs before I have the overwhelming urge to beat someone because I have little kid spit juice on my new shoes.

Poor form

July 11, 2007 | Filed under: Humdrum, The District Of Columbia

“Lust is easy. Love is hard. Like is most important.” ~Carl Reiner

Question: in the event that a girl meets a very lovely and gorgeous man just once and then happens to see this man again fairly soon thereafter. And most recently, the man just casually catches her eye and walks up to her and strikes a conversation with this girl. Would it be in poor form for the girl to reply to his line of questioning with: “So I’ve been thinking, can I have your babies? Please?”

Is that unreasonable? At least the girl is polite in her request and adds ‘please’ at the end. Which is a sign that whatever children they do have will be equipped with good manners.

Intolerance

June 4, 2007 | Filed under: Just Add Alcohol, Oh The Stupidity You'll See, The District Of Columbia

“Drunkenness is nothing but voluntary madness.” ~Seneca

A few weeks ago I received a phone call from a parent saying that someone had read on my evil little blog that I walked through the streets of Georgetown drunk. I had to correct said parent and say not only have I walked through the streets of Georgetown drunk, but also Chinatown, Gallery Place, Capitol Hill (both the House and Senate sides), Bethesda, Chevy Chase, AU Park, and up and down Connecticut Avenue from 17th street to practically Rockville. All of which doesn’t necessarily make me a raging alcoholic, but a person who has spent a good part of her young adult hood without a stick up my ass.

It hasn’t always been pretty or something that I’m really proud of and I can discuss some really ugly moments with hilarity, but only in hindsight. I am not necessarily proud of myself, but I am a girl who enjoys her wine and when I’ve had too much, I am very well aware and then I make the rather smart and logical decision to umm, not drink, because I enjoy being semi-functional in the mornings and being able to remember where I left my keys.

That said, moving to Upstate NY is a naturally slower pace of life where I’m not rushing around from Happy Hour to events each and every night. Which means that in the last three weeks, I’ve had exactly one bottle of wine and like four beers. No more of this overly priced vodka and club soda, shit. It’s just been straight up Magic Hat and the very last of my Trader Joe’s wine that I smuggled into my mother’s house underneath my sweatshirt.

The lack of drinking has boded well for my mind and given that I’m on some heavy prescriptions, I get up every morning ready and willing and able and not once, feeling like I shoved my head under a tire.

This week I returned to DC for a business trip and Saturday night, I found out the really, really hard way, that I am no longer 19 or 21 for that matter. That perhaps I should stop at three drinks and leave the fourth through sixth drink for the patrons waiting in line behind me. Maybe I needed to move to a place where drinking a bottle of wine an evening isn’t the norm. Maybe I needed the change of pace and my body rejecting vodka so very violently is its way of apprising me of it’s opinion.

This perspective has been carefully considered and duly noted for future reference. And I hope that my liver and I have a more amicable relationship from this point forward.

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)