The Black Keys at Constitution Hall–Monday night!

I was super/super excited considering my recent obsession with their music. Plan was for Lil Miss Taco Tuesday and I to Metro in, do happy hour in Dupont and cab it to the concert, then cab it back to Chulito's house for a sleepover. Actually the original tentative plan was to stay with Sly Fox, but he notified me last minute that he would be preoccupied. Ironically, while waiting for the green line to DC–we ran into him. Possibly a sign, but if I had to guess... not a sign for me. Either way, we welcomed his company on our ride. Lil Miss Taco Tuesday guessed that he had a date that night and he confirmed that indeed he did and if all went well... he would not come home. Hmm.......................... Yeah/yeah I get it... we all have needs, but has'nt he ever heard of "Bro's before Ho's"? Hello! Bro's before Ho's Dude! Me being the "Bro" in this situation. Plus, it was a Monday night date. You don't schedule dates on Mondays with anyone you are really interested in. The way I see it, Monday dates are for the possible snoozers. Regardless, I was happy to run into my Bro and he did fill our bellies with pizza and guide us through a nice scenic walk to Dupont.
At Public Bar's rooftop in Dupont

Outside Constitution Hall


Nothing but love :)

Our lesbian box-mate

The fairly docile crowd that had me reconsidering my move...

PhotobucketThoroughly enjoying  myself!

"the regular, she'd rearrange, the girl knew how to chop and change"

At Chulito's crib... isn't that a beautiful flag? Also, the Metro stop back the next morning... look the capitol!

The Ideal Roster

Hard Drive Fried
Work • Photos • Music LOST :(
Which makes me wish I had a
MAC Genius on the Roster. No waiting in line, making appointments like the other clueless tech fools, I just call my Genius to the rescue–sit back, sip a wine spritzer while he assesses the situation. This dude also knows how to hijack software, saving me lots of cash.

Some other possible additions:
Car Savvy Dude... He doesn't necessarily need to be a mechanic because they usually have gross hands, just the ability to easily diagnose car issues and somehow always know when my car needs it's oil changed AND goes the extra mile to take it himself to save me the agony of 1/2 hour in a stinky waiting room.

Wealthy Distinguished Dude... So content with my hugs and kisses (also too lazy to do anything else), he loves to buy me flirty dresses and take me salsa dancing–smoking cigars by the bar while I dance the night away with hot, young Latin men.

The Outdoorsman... Always on some hike or going down some river. Me? I'm not so adventurous, but when I want to feel Mother Nature's hand–he's the dude I call. He also doesn't talk much, so I use this opportunity to reflect in natural surroundings.

The Airline Hookup Dude... Pretty self-explanitory. Can also go hand-in-hand with Vacationship Dude (see here).

The Tall Dude that is good with his hands... For those moments when I can't reach, though I'm quite handy myself–sometimes it just gets old doing everything for yourself. Plus, dudes that can build shit are sexy. This dude is usually a contractor.

The Deep/Artsy Dude...  When I'm in the mood for thought-provoking conversation or need someone to accompany me to The Windup Space on Monday nights to sketch burlesque dancers.

The Musician... This dude introduces me to obscure artists and is always down to see a live show. He has a lil more testosterone than Deep/Artsy Dude.

Motorcycle Dude... This is a recent development. I currently feel the need to get my butt on a bike (never ridden one). This dude has a Harley or a classic bike, no tatt's or smelly armpits–he just digs iconic Americana.

Chef Dude... He doesn't necessarily have to be a chef by profession, but he loves getting creative in the kitchen–he especially loves watching my face fill with delight after I take a bite of his thoughtfully prepared dish. This dude is also a lover of wine.

Shopping Buddy Dude... He is a metrosexual and usually a lil too manicured for my rough-around-the-edges taste, but he has a great sense of style and I trust his judgement. This makes him a great companion in the fitting room.

I'm sure I could come up with a couple others, but this a pretty healthy list.

Major MAC Malfunction

At this point... I'm doing double-takes to the left and right, watching not to step on any cracks and hesitant to look up–for fear a bird were to fly by and drop a dump in my eye, leaving me blind or a permanent one-eyed winker.

I'm covered

This weekend I got a much needed opportunity to go out with my cousins. Since marriage and kids (none mine), we haven't had many chances to cheers outside of family functions. A dream is what prompted this outing, 2 to be exact. Thursday I received a phone call from my Titi (their mother) asking if I was OK. I responded that although I had recently received a series of bad news, I was fine. She was wondering because she had a vivid/violent dream about me. The next day I go through the same scenario with her daughter... although I didn't die in her dream... merely raped! Ugh. Now if my other cousin (the other daughter) has a dream about me, I'm staying in and boarding up the doors. This following my recent analysis of signs made my insides churn. To lift my spirits my cousins ventured into the "big bad city" to spend some quality time with me. They hadn't been out in quite some time, so we did a bit of hopping around to check out some of the newer Bmore establishments. Below are some pics from our night...

Do this, Don't do that, Can't you read the signs?

I am a sign believing fool, I admit it. Sometimes it's just for pure fun, sometimes I honestly think the universe is trying to send me a message. I think they're out there in our day-to-day... lil signs that if we care to notice, can guide us in the right direction. Basically when facts or occurrences are too coincidental, I think it's the universe's way of nudging us to act. Or it could be that I just read too much into things, totally plausible.

PhotobucketMost times it's a song at the right moment or a song that makes me recall a certain someone at the wrong moment. Those are easy. Ok, some examples: May's Bestie's name is one letter off of Lil Miss Honsauce's name (which is not your average name), plus May and Lil Miss Honsauce share the same cultural background (again... not your average)... what does this all boil down to? We were destined to be friends!

Sometimes I'm unsure of how to read these signs: Not too long ago I went on a date. I left my cell phone in date's car, so we went on another date the very next day (NO, this was not done on purpose). This dude makes it a point of being friendly with the waitstaff (a power move btw)... The name of our 1st waiter? Carlos. The name of our 2nd waiter? Carlos. First time I think nothing of it, though it's my Father's name. Second time, it's a sign. My Father is a Jr. Now is this a sign that he's a "keeper" or is this a sign to run? I had a great relationship with my Grandfather, but a strained one with my Father. See... could go either way.

I have lots of these lil occurrences, but most recently the one that made me chuckle: I'm hangin' out with newish Dude who is a recentish divorcé (baggage). We're talking about when our bday's are, he says his month and then I ask what sign is that (small talk-I could care less). He says Aries, I don't even begin to act like I know what that means. He asks me my month, I say January. A lil more curious now, he asks what day... I reply the 16th. His face goes pale. "What? What is it???," I say. "That's my wedding anniversary," he somberly replies. Holy Shit! I jump up and do not disguise in any way the ridiculousness of the situation. "Really? Are you serious? It's a sign! And, it's clearly not a good one, " says Me. Then I'm like, "Who the hell get's married on January 16th?" I'm pretty sure he begins to explain something but I'm lost in my laughter. Quite uncontrollable at this point. He does wrap it up with, "Well, there was a major snowstorm that day... like a serious one... 3 feet." And I'm like, "Well, there goes another sign."

Why my Gma can out muscle your Gma

PhotobucketBy far the sauciest woman I know...
  • She says, "Leaving the house without a watch is like leaving the house without panties." I have subscribed to this theory for most of my life and if I leave the house without a watch my day is pretty much shot.
  • I have to be careful on the compliments that I give her because she will give me the necklace off her neck, the bracelet off her wrist, the earrings off her ears... just to make me happy.
  • She reminds me to, "hace pee pee," every time before leaving the house.
  • She always smells like sweet Shalimar. A woman wore this in my old office and every time I smelled it, I'd have to resist the urge to hug her (and I didn't even like her very much).
  • She compliments me on my nose at dinner, saying it looks like a lil turd (un mojonsito)... this sounds way cuter in Spanish.
  • She's made me Puerto Rican coffee morning, noon and night, since I was little.
  • She has been celebrating her Sweet Sixteen for the past 30 years.
  • She's a die-hard Mets fan.
  • She just recently retired but not because she was tired. 
  • She recently told me that I remind her of one of those women from her novela... quite possible the best compliment I've ever received.
  • She feeds her dog coffee and adobo chicken, which makes me jealous, which makes me kinda sad because that dog eats better than I do.
  • Did I mention her dog's name is Chucky?
  • Did I mention Chucky is a she? She was insistent on having a dog named Chucky and although the dog we found her was a girl... she was already committed to the name.
  • She knows who Daddy Yankee is and is a fan of Reggaeton.
  • Living in NYC most of her life, she's interacted with damn near every culture. This means she has funny lil anecdotes, but she always ends the story telling me she doesn't care who I bring home as long as they are good to me.
  • She teaches me curse words in other languages.

A Grey Rant.

PhotobucketJust wrapped up season 3 of Grey's and I want to quickly rant. I'm so behind, so I'm basically talking to myself–which is fine... Meredith annoys me. She is so damn mopey and no one likes a sad sack. She is Charlie Brown on a super shitty day–Good Grief! I know partially, it's not her fault. The writers on the show REALLY want to make her life hell. First they take away the love of her life, then they bring him back, then her nasty Mom dies, then she almost drowns, then she loses her new "substitute Mother", then her Father smacks her and accuses her of killing "substitute Mother". Come on now... ease up on the chic will ya?! Regardless, she gives up too easy! She has McDreamy saying everything she's been wanting to hear and she just walks away AND let's not forget that she didn't fight to swim when she got knocked into the water... the latter I find most unforgivable. Swim damnit, Swim! How can you not swim when you have that hair to run your fingers through after a rough day??? Nope, I don't feel sorry for ya. Suck it up!

Take a cue from Sandra Bullock. Even she is finding light in her shitty situation... Rockin' the Charlie Brown "Why Me?" T... gotta love a smart ass, I know I do. Charlie Brown T available here.

Take a cue from me... I typically allow myself only 24 hours to feel sorry for myself. In these hours I can self medicate in the form of vodka, I can cry until my eyes swell shut and I pop some blood vessels or may I suggest keeping a diary of some sort... cheaper than a shrink.

Move over boy... There's a new Werewolf in town.

Let's get this straight, just in case there is any doubt... in the recent battle between Werewolf vs. Vampire, I am Team Werewolf all the way–no matter what series. Even more so with the addition of Alcide Herveaux to the True Blood mix. Joe Manganiello plays the new character perfectly... with plaid or without.

Last night I gave the toll booth lady my drivers license... True Story.

My alter ego 'tude for Tuesday

Clark and Charlie 
decide to work in tandem 
to save the day...

An "ish" to take the edge off

freeish, laterish, soonish, 7ish, noonish, farish, nearish tallish, shortish, smallish, mediumish, cuteish, trollish, boyish, manish, sexyish, sillyish, boldish, shyish, hornyish, boredish, leftish, rightish, wrongish, heavyish, lightishtightishlooseishquietishloudishwealthyish
brokeishwhoreish, prudeish... well you get the point.
When you don't necessarily want to commit... add an Ish.

Ahh... the joys of dating in 2010

Is it just me or do you seem to be getting a little weird all of a sudden?

A couple shots from Artscape

I had some entertaining texts to share but my "temporary" phone erased them all, ugh! I knew that was going to happen... some glitch. I wanted to motivate myself last night to type them up but I was knee deep in Grey's Anatomy and tissues–that show is turning me into mush.

Here are some pics from Artscape Saturday night... Always a good time!


It's Friday, I should be ripping someone to pieces... but I think I did enough of that on Monday.  Today I will pledge my love and devotion to May for sending me a beautiful bouquet of flowers!!!

Let's set this up: Lil Miss Taco Tuesday and I went for a "run" to the harbor yesterday in the blazing heat. Clearly, when we returned we were disgusting and dripping with sweat. Hmm... what to do to quickly remedy the situation (without showering)... Shamwow to the rescue! I've never even used the darn things and they were given to me a year ago as a "gift". Seriously dudes... never bring a chic a "gift" like that and expect any kind of "Wow" response. Anywayz, I thought why not give them a try–they are supposed to be absorbent. So yes, we Shamwow'd ourselves. Go head... I give you permission. Use it as a verb today.

As we're leaving to go get yummy snowballs, we run into the UPS man. He's got a flower delivery. He stops us mid-track and asks if any one of us is... Can't make it out the first time... think it's my neighbor upstairs. Then he says my name and I'm like, "Yeah, that's me." LM Taco Tuesday says, "Uh Oh, this could make or break the day (so true)." My mind is racing to who it could be. I say it's probably my Mom. LM Taco Tuesday says, "Well, if it's you know who, these are going in the trash." In my head I'm like, please don't be you know who/please don't be you know who. She cuts it open for me and I dart for the card... Here is what it said:
"When life gives you lemons, just say "F*ck the lemons," and bail! Thought you could use some cheering up and I couldn't find a vodka-delivery service :) –May

Hi, hello out there... probably one of the sweetest actions every received. So now I'm tearing up and LM Taco Tuesday is hugging me, telling me not to cry. We're getting all sweaty again and she offers me a Shamwow.

Honestly, I can't express to you how thankful I am for loving friends... ahh... Permanent smile the rest of the day/night. Even to perfect strangers, I'd be, "Did I tell you my girlfriend sent me flowers today? Yeah, I'm loved."

Accepting Applicants...

I heard this term recently:
vacationship: A long-distance relationship in which the couple only gets together for idyllic vacation-like excursions, therefore avoiding the "real-life" issues of dating

The context in which I heard it was... "no small talk, no strings attached." Though the term is new to me, the concept is not. When I 1st started dating this dude (he is actually "friend") he was about to go on a vacationship... a pretty major one in fact–2 weeks in Australia with a chic he'd already been on another vacationship with. He said they had similar "traveling styles". I say he probably could tolerate her and they had great horizontal chemistry.

Well, damnit I want one and I want it now. I have a low tolerance level for stupidity, therefore I need a man with some wits and who doesn't have any random annoying sleeping habits... yup, I think that bout sums up my requirements. Well there is always this...
Let's go:

And the hits keep on comin'.

Last night while saying goodbye to the family... I went downstairs to kiss my lil cousins goodbye... I go up to my lil 9/10 year-old cousin and he says: Where's Scott?
Me: Scott? We broke-up over a year ago... I think it's time for you to move on.
Lil Cuz: He was fun. Why did you break up?
Me: Well... (trying to think of what to say to a 10 year-old) We grew apart.
Lil Cuz: People change.
Me: Yes, people change.
Lil Cuz: Well, he was too good for you.
Me: What?!? Too good for me!?! You better take that back!
Lil Cuz: No. (as he proceeds to run around the room because he knows I'm about to tackle him)
Me: Take it back or I will never babysit for you again.
Lil Cuz: Fine. I take it back.

I win. I think. Though ouch :/

My alter ego 'tude (teeth) for Tuesday

Because if you don't do it... who the hell will?
I'm on flossin' detail.

More angels...

(Upon viewing that The Real Housewives are coming to D.C.)
Me: DC, really? Wow, I guess we've arrived.
You know I call us The Real Single Broads of Bmore (or B*tches depending on my mood).
Can you imagine if they were filming me this weekend?
Lil Miss Taco Tuesday: They'd have to split it between four episodes. Saturday night alone would take up one...

Saturday night, after all that nonsense from below–I went dancing... logically. I was in NYC and I went to SOB's for some live Brazilian music. Why? Cuz beautiful Cali boys with strangely-good rhythm aren't going to dance by themselves... No/no/no. Without going into too much detail, I had a night reminiscent of this one... too strange to even repeat.

I am left wondering if we have a certain number of guardian angels allotted to us in our lifetime. I'm hoping it's not like the "9 lives" thing, cuz I'm most certainly pushing my limit.

I'm never gonna know you now...

I'm trying to understand you, to get you. To see your thought process. The only thing I can come up with is that in some sick way, you were playing a game. You were competing with me. It's way too easy to blame it on alcohol. Don't think for a second that you can chalk it up to that. It goes much deeper than that. Something inside of you my dear is quite rotten. Infected.

I'm not upset about the boy. You know... the boy you orchestrated me "hooking up with". The boy was disposable. Although for the past couple of months you've been a royal pain in the ass, I thought you were a keeper. I chalked your erratic behavior and piss-poor morals up to your recent "divorce". A dysfunctional phase that would pass after you'd satisfied whatever itch you needed to scratch. But that is enough talk about you. This may be shocking... but you are not the axis with which the world revolves, though your shallowness is quite epic.

Let's focus on me because with me in your corner, you can sleep easy. I'm an asset. I'm a sure thing. Sure to be there. Guaranteed to love and support you. You just didn't get it. You just don't get it. In your ever-changing/revolving world (bed), I am a constant. Plymouth freakin' rock or Shorty Roc, which ever you prefer. I don't have it figured out, but I do know... I am stronger because I have friends like this in my life. I choose to devote my energy on my friendships instead of dudes because that dude will only satisfy that itch for several seconds (a lil longer if you're lucky).

I know you're sorry. I know you wish you could take it back, but you can't. Maybe someday I will find forgiveness for you. I'm guessing at least 5 years from now, maybe more, maybe never. I will say that I am feeling a bit erratic now myself... So try to keep your distance as best you can. Being that the cesspool you call your bed is only 8 doors down, this might be a challenge.

How I choose to drown my sorrows.

I'm sure when I stop pressing repeat something will come to me.

Last night in texts

I won't bore you with the frivolous shit.
–You are f*cking dead to me.
–You gross piece of shit. Your acting abilities were subpar and your "music" sucks.
–The really f*cked up part is that I guessed it be4 she said it, which means what I really thought about the two of you. Nothing.
–She is not worthy of my friendship. You are not worthy of this text. You think that it was not premeditated that makes it better. Who the f*ck are you kidding
–Eat a dick
–Hey can you call me when you get a chance?
–I deserve you hating me and I hate myself
–I f*cked up. It was a mistake, but I take full responsibility. I'm really sorry, I understand if that means nothing to you. You're right, I'm a piece of shit.
–The fact that it happened with her is really irrelevant – though obviously makes it worse. There was no premeditation to any of this... at least on my part. 
–I didn't accept the invitation to the after party expecting or planning for any of this shit to happen. I went over there as a friend. Obviously we got hammered, one thing led to another and I made a huge mistake. I'm not making excuses. But you're making it look like it was a long time coming... But you can think what you want. You're obviously entitled. I just want you to have your facts straight, whether you believe me or not. I don't know what the f*ck she told you happened. But honestly, I feel a bit manipulated. Though I should've obviously known better in the first place and just drove home... There is nothing I can say or do to make any of his disappear, or even better. Yes I f*cked up, yes I'm a piece of shit. You deserve better. I'm so sorry. And goodbye... I wish I kept better control and made better decisions, being f*cked up is not an excuse.

Road Trip

I'm currently on a road trip with the fam. First stop–Albany for my Stepdad's graduation, second stop–NYC. To pass time in the car, my sister and I have been watching episodes of Grey's Anatomy. This is my 1st Grey's experience. Her and my mom (and every other chic I know) have been hardcore fans for years. Me? I've been watching Lost. Well I have to say, I have been pleasantly surprised by the show. It's sorda like a grown up Dawson's Creek, all angsty/quirky friends dating each other (but in scrubs). After several straight hours, I find myself feeling a bit emotional, needy and horny. There's lots of quality eye-candy and  I haven't even gotten to the episodes with McSteamy yet. Frankly, screw McDreamy or McSteamy because my man is Karev! Ooh, just my type: ornery, hot-head, big ego with a heart... lil rough round the edges.

What else? Hmm... there is nothing to do in Albany. Yesterday to kill time we went to the local mall, which wasn't so bad... at least they had a decent Macy's shoe department and Sephora–enough to entertain any chic for several hours. Pictured are some shoes that I was seriously debating. Kinda crazy looking, but I think much hotter in person. My mom of course said "street walker".

What else in Albany? Well for dinner ops there's Chilis, Cheesecake Factory, Red Lobster, Macaroni Grill and Olive Garden! We settled on Macaroni Grill. Prior to leaving for dinner we had a cocktail at the hotel. My stepdad had brought along a jug full of Bacardi (how typical ;). He made us a round of stiff drinks and then the secrets started flowing. Rarely does my Mom admit any wrong-doings, but after tales from my Sister and I, she started to loosen up. My sister and I were recounting the night in DC on her bday recently. My sister was making fun of my dancing and I was making fun of her vomiting. We also were trying to describe the size of a Jumbo Slice to the rents. So Mom says that in her sex and the city days, she would dip french fries in cognac. This I thought was particularly funny because several hours prior she was making a disgusting face to me suggesting that fries are great dipped in Frosty's (they are).

We had a great time at Macaroni Grille! Seriously. Since we were celebrating a graduation, we got the "Opera singer" to come to the table and do a lil song dedication. She sang Le Colibri (about a hummingbird that drinks so much love that he dies) and it was truly beautiful. Who would've know such a moment could happen at the Macaroni Grill in Albany. I love surprises. We even invented our own new dessert. It's called Drunken Cheesecake. After not being able to decide between our options and being drawn to the Frangelico in one, I asked for a shot to pour over our desserts. Honestly this works better with the Tiramisu which easily absorbs the alcohol. Future Drunken Cheesecakes need to be done in a large shooter with the Frangelico absorbed into the crust. I also came up with the name Ballsy Cheesecake since Frangelico is made from hazelnuts... not sure that would fly though.

What to do when you get tanked.

happyYou get tanked! Of course! Well, in really good company that is going to remind you of all the fun/new possibilities that await. My uplifting company was Lil Miss Honsauce. Last night (over paella, paté, a pitcher of sangria and the robustest wine we could get ahold of) we pondered my possible next step or leap. Initially yes, I was looking at DC, but what is really stopping me on setting my sights further...

LM Honsauce: What about Miami?
Me: Hmm... maybe.
LM Honsauce: Well, your always talking about how you want a hot/sexy Latin man.
Me: This is true... I'd have to stop eating now.
LM Honsauce: You wouldn't have to stop eating till you get off the plane.

We sat in the corner and closed the place down, literally. Staff were spit-shining tables around us so that we could get the hint. But it's hard to stop dreaming... me of where I really want to be and she of rosemary and thyme (possible names for her food/recipe/social gathering/restaurant critiquing blog). I suggested HONSAUCE, seems like the perfect fit to me :)

My alter ego 'tude for Tuesday


Weekend in Photos 7.2-7.4 (my 4th)


Reasons I'm moving to DC

On 2 Birds 1 Blog, Meg lists 6 reasons you should want to live in DC (We have): 
1) Ugly People! DC is referred to as "Hollywood for ugly people," and politics as "show business for ugly people," for a reason. Because we're not the prettiest bell at the ball. Actually we're not even at the ball. We're at home eating an entire sheet cake with a spoon, wearing a self-heating acne mask, crying to our mother's, wondering why no one sees our special inner-beauty. But that's good news for you, out-of-towner! Come here and watch your self-esteem fly through the roof as your "mediocre" good looks suddenly skyrocket to supermodel steamy-sex-bomb status. You're going to get so much ass you'll have to retire your genitals in an ice bucket for at least an hour each week. And that's exciting!  
2) Black People! To answer your question, yes, yes I am a blatant self-hating white person. But the better question is, why aren't you? Black people do everything betterfood, music, dancing, religion, presidentseverything! Thus, I am honored to live in a city that is 55% African American and only 39% White. This statistic has also earned DC the nickname "Chocolate City." Becca and Rachel for quite some time were considering making t-shirts that said, "White Chocolate." After weighing the pros and cons, I think they decided the inevitable beatings weren't worth the irony. I, however, am still unsure about that. 
3) Readily Available Drugs! Some out-of-towners think that just because an overwhelming amount of the population in DC works for the government or a non-profit, there must be drug testing posts at the corner of every major intersection in the city. Well, guess what? You're fine, you can cross the street without having to pee in a cup. We're not all narcs! We know how to have a good time! Shit, I'm at work writing this post and cookin' up some heroin as we speak! Don't worry about the city's straight-edge factor, I know a guy. And that guy knows a guy who has a membership at Costco. We'll get you an eighth and a 46-pack of cranberry juice in one felt swoop. 
4) Homosexuals! It seems like you can't swing a dead cat in this town without hitting a gay guy in the well-moisturized face. And that's a good thing! A large gay population = good shopping, good restaurants, shopping partners, drinking partners, a large choice of gay boyfriends for you ladies, large amounts of sex to be had for you gay out-of-towners, and the list goes on! Just don't be that girl from Minnesota in the khakis who keeps falling in love with the "fancy man" in your office only to be heartbroken when after six months of obsessing you find out he's dating the only other attractive guy in your building. Oh and out-of-towner, if this is a major turn-off for you and you're all "sick dude, I don't want to have to look at that shit!", don't worry, I got you covered. Just get in a cab and ask the driver to take you to Third Edition in Georgetown. Get out. Look around. These are your new friends. You'll be fine. 
5) Colleges! DC is known for being home to the government, but let's not forget it's also home to quite a few number of colleges: American, GW, Georgetown, Catholic, UDC, Trinity,Gallaudet, etc. I know this initially sounds like a turn-off. No one wants to watch a fat sorority girl cry on a curb in front of the bar in a broken tiara screaming, "I JUST ::sniffle, sniffle:: MISS ::sniffle, sniffle:: TRA::hiccup::VIS!!!!" (In which case don't go to Adams Morgan on any given Saturday night.) However, there are some perks to living in a college city. My strongest argument is the Georgetown men's athletic department. Get a trench coat, get a pair of sunglasses, park yourself on M street and watch 'em run by shirtless. OHHHH-YEEAAaAaAa...My weaker argument is that it can be sort of kind of fun to party with college kids. They're so full of hope and wonder and can get shitfaced with you because they their paper isn't due until Tuesday. Also, partying with them distracts you from the fact that you've already graduated and are working an entry-level, dead-end job in a field that you no longer want to work in because you've seen first-hand what a crock of bullshit it is and everyday you show up and pray that hell has frozen over so you don't have to go into the office to use your $130,000 education to staple invoices, put pamphlets into a folder and avoid your co-workers who you fear more and more everyday are what you will turn into in 20 years. What? Am I still typing? 
6) Accents! We don't have southern accents in DC. Nor do we have the oh-so-god-awful Baltimore accent. Teresa was recently discussing the DC accent with her co-workers in Baltimore and nailed it on the headwe have valley girl accents. We put like three extra syllables into every word and lots of unnecessary U's. (Apparently her co-workers mock Teresa by saying, 'I'm from Day Say. I only know two letters: Day pair-ee-odd, Sayyy, pair-ee-odd.') But our native accent is good news for you, out-of-towner! In the tropical heat of the summer, you'll think you're in LA without any of the added pressures of needing to be thin, stylish or wealthy! What more do you people want?!
Reason enough for me...


Friday Dedication

To that chic who shook my hand Monday night with the strength and stamina of Shorty #4, actually scratch that... Shorty #4 would've given me more resistance. Thanks for wasting 2 seconds of my life. To make matters worse, you pretended not to know me. I assume this dead fish handshake and stranger act was spurred by the fact that I came with your "ex-hookup" who just happens to be my neighbor. Well then, I will pretend to flirt and be fond of him for the next 20 minutes just to piss you off.

I find it completely revolting and an insult to receive a weak handshake from either chics or dudes. Visions of taking that weak wrist and using your own hand to smack you in the face come to mind...

wieners are hilarious

Dime Store Dinner

Last night, after sleepwalking (dancing) through my Zumba class, I came home to an empty fridge. I hate grocery shopping unless I have an unlimited cheese budget–which currently does not exist. So, for dinner I had:
  • A watermelon italian ice
  • 5 chocolate coins
  • (and for dessert) I picked the sweet potato chips out of my "Gourmet" chip bag


Over on JewMitch, his recent post recounts an "episode" with a "Crazy Chic"... someone that he drunkenly hooked up with here and there and then couldn't shake loose. He posts their interaction over a period of time through text to illustrate the pure stupidity and shamelessness of this chic.

Ok, "Crazy" is too easily associated with the word "Chic"... there are "Crazy Dudes" too, damnit!!!

At least JewMitch actually had physical contact with said "Crazy". Over a YEAR ago, I was out and about with Lil Miss Taco Tuesday. We were bouncing around, up to no good... I blame it on the Nutrigrain bar I probably had for dinner. The end of the night is hazy (shocker), the next morning I receive a text from some dude (think his name is Ken?). He's basically saying that it was nice to meet me the night before, blah/blah, but I can't for the life of me remember this dude and def don't remember giving my number out. So, I ask dude to message me on facebook to jog my memory. He does and I'm not interested... total baby. In general I try not to hurt anyone's feelings, so I think I waited about a week to delete him. I also never responded back to any more of his text messages... BUT that has not stopped him from messaging me everynow and then for over a year!!! I don't have his number saved, but I know it's him because he always writes, "Hi" as "Hy", usually followed by a "Sup". Ugh! What goes through "Crazy Dude's" heads after not receiving positive feedback in over a year. Are they really holding out for a weak/desperate moment for me to cave in? No, no "Crazy Dude"... Not going to happen.

I've attached a photo to illustrate my poor decision-making state. Note, I'm holding a beer–I don't drink beer. This is when Lil Miss Taco Tuesday was in her biting phase...