Betrayal

So my coworker pointed out this today. Apparently Bear Grylls and Man Vs. Wild is a big fraud. He stays in hotels. Consultants make his rafts and show him how, so they can get the precious shots of him building them. Channel 4, the channel in Britain airing the show, excused themselves, saying fans should know because " he often directly addresses the production team, including the cameraman, making it clear he is receiving an element of back-up." Which is a big fat lie, obviously spoken by someone who doesn't actually watch the show. The ONLY times I've ever seen Bear address the cameraman were when they were in danger and he was telling them to get back or get out of the water or some such warning. And Bear himself has said on the show that he's not allowed to interact with them. Hmph.

Now some of you might not think that this is such a big deal. After all, he's still showing you the survival techniques and he still, as Channel 4 put it, "does his own stunts." But it is. First of all, they lied. I'm tired of people lying, relying on trickery to get good ratings. Plus, while Bear is attractive, liars are not. So all this makes him less attractive. Second of all, I only marginally watch the show to learn how to survive if, by some strange chain of events, I wind up stranded in the arctic or something. A good portion of why I watch is to see how someone well-trained can manage to do these things that are beyond my capabilities. To learn that they are beyond his, too? Such a let-down. Next, they'll tell us that he wasn't actually climbing waterfalls in the wild, that it was all a set and they had those invisible wires holding him up.

That's it. My allegiance now goes to Survivor Man. Not only is his show more informative, because he can't do a huge amount that I can't, but it's more true. After all, he doesn't even have a cameraman with him. He carries all his own equipment.

Less-es approaching

I have decided that one of my new big pet peeves is people who don't email back in a timely manner. No, I'm probably not talking about you. But if I am... beware...

So the big move is approaching and I will officially have no where to live. Then, one and a half weeks after I become homeless, I shall become jobless, too. I will essentially be a bum, living off the government. Of course, in this case, I shall eventually have to pay the government back and will have a place to live at some point in time. But still. It's all so exhausting.

I would, of course, write about the final Harry Potter book, but I know several people who don't know what happens, and I don't want to ruin it for them. For some reason, though, that kindness doesn't want to extend to people on my commute. Every time I see someone reading it, I really just want to yell out, "So-and-so dies. DIES. Kaput. They are gone." I don't get it. Most of these people I feel rather neutral towards. One is one who does tend to annoy me by talking loudly and obnoxiously to her friend, but the rest are perfect strangers. I don't actually do it, but the temptation... always there. I did enjoy the last book, but now I have to go back and reread it. I read it in a speed-reading marathon of approximately 6.5 hours, meaning I averaged over 100 pages an hour. I'm rather proud of that. But now I need to go back and reread the 4th and 5th and then the 7th. I just reread the 6th like last week, so don't really need to. There are things I only vaguely remember. Like Sirius' mirror. Minor flashes of recollection, but for the most part? Only grayness... Appropriately enough.

Furthering my nerdom

I discovered something sad today. Apparently, there is a Buffy Musical sing-a-long this weekend. And I don't have tickets. And it's sold out. Though it'll be back in November, if I can remember and have the time to go.

Also, I have to force myself to stay away from the news. How dare they leak details about the last Harry Potter book?! Jerks.

And Arlington sucks. See, I went to see a place last night that was a forever long walk away from the metro. It involved crossing 50 where it intersects Washington Blvd. Both are 4 lanes. 50 is crazy and really can't be crossed without a light. There is a sidewalk on the side of Washington and you go under 50, so theoretically it should all work out. HOWEVER. Arlington had to redo the bridge. They are trying to make it more pedestrian-friendly, which I am all in favor of. To do this, they, in their infinite wisdom, decided to destroy both sides of the sidewalk and put confusing little "Sidewalk closed. Go this way." signs everywhere that wound up pointing to each other.

So I wind up perilously walking in construction trenches where the sidewalk should be, as cars going 45 whiz by three feet away. I was hot, I got dirt blown on me, and I'm still apartmentless. And my ankle starting twinging with pain last night. This morning, it hurts more and I have a funny bruise/swollen area. I blame the county. CW thinks I should sue.

Moving sucks, and other things

I am so ready for a vacation. Good thing that I bought my tickets home! Yay. And I'm leaving a day earlier, because that's when flights were cheapest and when I could overlap trips with my brother and sister-in-law. Now, if I can just get housing nailed down...

Speaking of which, I met with Most-Likely Roommate. She's pretty cool. Nerdy enough to like Eureka, which is always a good sign. CW decided I wasn't excited enough about the whole thing, but really. I'm just completely exhausted. This whole thing is just wearing me out to the point that I just want it to be over. Although I did discover a lovely coffee frappucino type-thing when I went to meet her. (The exhaustion plus the stress = me craving coffee and sweets, or better yet, sweet coffee.)

I also am making gradual process on my lists. Applied for health insurance, which hopefully will not take the 4-6 weeks they mention, as I am supposed to have it for grad school and that will barely get it going in time, as my old cuts of September 1. I also really need to go get my shots (I can't believe I still have to be vaccinated for school. As my mom puts it, "You're in GRAD school and you need to fill out health sheet?!) I've been decent on my packing plan, although Cassie hates it. She is enjoying one of the tubs, as she likes to sleep on it or just jump up there to better attack me. Her hating the changes, though, leads to her crying entirely too much. Some of that is because she found one of these little flower roses that she absolutely loves to chase around. She carries it around, though, and cries. Apparently, she associates crying and carrying. I'm not quite sure why.

Nothing funny or entertaining seems to be happening lately. I mean, there are the political fiascos still, the quotes from the Administration that make me want to run through the streets screaming, "STOP LYING TO US, WE AREN'T MORONS!" until I listen to quotes from the general public and am reminded that, yes, we are morons. My brain isn't working, so I'm not even having funny thoughts. Although I did feel like I had fallen inside a Zach Braff movie the other day, listening to a French cd on the metro. Something about the type of music and the movement of the metro. I also thought that it would be cool to shoot a scene that included the reflection of a person climbing the escalators in the metro, mainly because I saw the reflection of me climbing the stairs in the metro.

Oh, I am almost done with the scarf that would not die! That excites me. My goal is to finish it before I move. I think I can do it. I only need to knit a few more inches. And then I have to sew part of it together, because of a whole fiasco which is not that interesting but which led me to threaten to burn a row of the scarf for every minute the next time SB fell asleep.

Besides all that, I just desperately need a break, one which will hopefully occur after I quit. If I haven't moved, then I won't be so relaxed. But, we are keeping our fingers crossed....

A Harry Week

I am declaring this week to be (somewhat) the week of Harry Potter. First, of course, the movie came out last week. I, being the faithful fan that I am, went this weekend. It was thoroughly entertaining. Much better, I thought, than most of the previous. It felt more like a complete movie, able to hold its own separate from the book. I still walked out going, "well in the book, this happened and this was this way and..." but that was more for SB's edification and to prove that he really should just freaking read the books. He doesn't "want the books to ruin the movies for him." Hmph.

And of course, this weekend is... the last book of the series. I'm excited, but yet... It'll be the end. No more Harry Potter. No more getting excited to see what happens next. I'll know. Plus I'm worried for the characters. See, I get way too involved in my books. I mean, entirely caring too much. It's the reason I didn't really like The Lord of the Rings. I couldn't relax for them until I had finished the whole trilogy. Even at the end of one, you knew it was just a breather of safety. And it's not like they are quick reads. I mean, it took a couple of weeks to work through them all. That's a long time to be worried. But yes. And I KNOW that someone I care about is going to die in Harry Potter. It's kind of a given. I mean, I'm rereading the 6th in preparation and I'm having a hard time forcing myself to finish it because I know what happens. I know who dies. But not knowing who but knowing that it's coming and could be anyone? If she's killed off Hermione, I'm going to be pissed.

At least this time there will be no delivery fiasco such as last time, when a stupid company lost my book and I didn't get it for a week and by then was so pissed off, I'd gone to their competitor to buy it. And then, because by then everyone had already finished it, my friend accidentally told me the ending. Which I don't blame her for and which certainly didn't ruin the book or anything. But still. And I'd better have it done by the end of this weekend. Because I know one of my coworkers and he'd tell me the ending just for fun. And Amazon has promised that I will have it in my hands on Saturday, or I don't pay for it.

"Aid"

My dad is officially driving me insane. I think he and my mom are not on the same page about helping me out with school. Either that, or he keeps changing his mind and is feeling frugal. Whatever. All I need to know is a. if they are helping me out and b. if so, by how much. Right now he keeps calling my loans "aid" and acting as if they are like free money, while every once in a while throwing out a mention of them helping me. I've got too many other things up in the air right now; all I need is some freaking answers.

Luckily, I have my escapes. 1. I am totally going to see Harry Potter this weekend. Also, I really need to start rereading the last book so I'll be ready for this next one. Whee!! I was a bit disturbed to see Daniel Radcliffe turning into an almost attractive guy. Not that he's unattractive, but for a long time he was very nerdy and very obviously insanely young. Too young for me, though those of you obsessed with the boys from Newsies... You know who you are... But now he's getting all adult looking. 2. Eureka's new season started last night! I love that show. SB was totally making fun of me, though, because I was really excited about it and then proceeded to pack while it was on. But I was still listening and I watched most of it. I'd just had a bunch of sugar and I have a gradual pack plan. I shall pack a couple of boxes a day and that way I don't have to freak out right before I move. And moving boxes are freaking expensive. I was looking into getting some of the wardrobe boxes, but they are $10 a piece at least, and I'd need several of them. I may just go the tacky route of just putting a big plastic bag around them and taping the hangers together. 3. Watching Cassie, who remains highly strange and entertaining. She just has the best kitty facial expressions. The other night, I looked over and see her sitting on the air conditioner just staring at me with giant eyes. It actually could have been a little frightening, except I know she can't do anything.

The Countdown begins

Ugh. Back here at work again. I took last week off, thanks to some comp time I wanted to use before quitting (QUITTING!!!!) and went home. Home was nice. Not quite as relaxing as I might have hoped, given that I know the 180084782038472890 things I need to do, and don't want to bother with. And there were some mad knitting issues. See, I've been working on a scarf for SB since, well, practically since we started dating. It started out of frugality/I don't know if he's getting me a present for x and need a back-up. Nice plan. However, we are now 4.5 years into the scarf that will not die. I hate this scarf. I hate it with a passion. I threatened to rip it out or burn it or something. Sadly, he does not seem to think this is a great option. He also didn't go for the "it'd just be a really SHORT scarf..." approach. So I got out my how-to book, figured out after I had ripped out the cast-on row that I couldn't add on to the scarf that way, replanned the whole thing, and threw it and SB out the window. Okay, maybe not the last step. But whatever. It's what I wanted to do. I did, however, knit some on my lovely silk shawl while I was at home and remembered why it is so much fun to knit on. It's gorgeous and crazy soft. And I've already loosely planned out my next two projects, with my mom promising to help pay for the yarn for my first sweater...

Also lovely was seeing my grandparents, who are absolutely amazing and gave me enough money that I don't have to flip out for the next few months. Such a stress relief. I can just relax now, once I find a place to live. Which I think I'm close to. I've found a roommate (probably) at least, and we think we know of a place to apply to. I just have to go check it out, actually talk with her in real life, and then get ready to move. I am keeping an eye out for two-bedroom houses, though, since I'd really rather be in a house. I'd love something like this place I looked at in Old Town, which also came with a cool roommate with two cats for Cassie to play with, but a slightly too high price tag and a location not exactly where I wanted.

Not so lovely is the fact that my apartment's air conditioner sucks and currently the temperature hovers around a balmy 78, meaning that I can't really sleep well. Combine that with the hideous headache I had last night, and you get one very sleepy, not wanting to be here worker.

Farewell, Studio 60

I think last night may have been the last ever episode of Studio 60. Studio 60, I shall miss you. You were dramatic and intelligent and therefore had to die. I thought the last episode tied everything up a little too neatly. "She's dying, she's dead, he's dead, no, everyone is alive and happy and in love!!!" But I still enjoyed you muchly. And I nearly missed you entirely. Luckily, I was watching the So You Think You Can Dance? results show immediately before and remembered right as I was about to turn off the TV. (Sidenote: If my brother weren't white, he'd look like Dominic.)

I also think that there is only one other woman working on my floor today. Thanks to the sheer amount of water I usually drink and the tea and coffee I had in addition, I've spent a fair amount of time running back and forth to the bathroom. And there has only been one siting of anyone else and very little evidence that anyone besides us has used the restroom. I know, this is a weird thing to notice, but when you have to pee 8 times in 5 hours, you need something to occupy your mind.

The Hells of House Hunting

Or apartment hunting. Whatever. Technically, I'd like to live in a group house, so it's house hunting. Though if I could buy a place... [drools] I don't know WHY I want my own place so badly, but I do. Poor SB gets to hear a lot about it. Usually at dusk for some reason, when I'll look out the car window (it always happens while driving), and whine, "I want my own house..."

Anyways, I always forget how strange it can be to look for a place. It's like a job interview, a first date and a house sale all rolled in to one. You have to find someone that you'll get along with. Not just someone you'd get along with as friends, because there are some friends that if you lived with them, someone would not come out alive. But someone you can live with, hopefully have fun with, and only want to kill occasionally. This also has to be someone with a comparable level of responsibility, someone who fits you in levels of cleanliness and rent paying. You also have to like the room/place itself. And you are supposed to be able to tell all of this in a matter of minutes. If you are wrong... well, we all know how miserable it can be to be wrong in that kind of situation.

Cassie has been particularly cute lately. I think it is to make sure that I don't start resenting her for keeping me out of houses. Sigh. Stupid people and their biases against cats. Not the people who are allergic. Because I know you can't help that and it's no fun. But the people who think my cute little cat is secretly going to eat their apartment. Now, I know some cats don't behave. Some people don't behave, for that matter. But Cassie is a pretty clean little cat. Her only destructive tendencies are to destroy things that are for her (like her place mat. Completely ripped apart) and to knead select items of my clothing. That I don't really get, or like, but she only does it occasionally and I think she's trained out of it.

In other news... well, I don't have much. I'm going home next week for a much needed pampering. If I could only have a place by then... Pipe dreams, I know. I'm hugely cranky right now. Stupid tourists. Stupid work (and coworkers in general). Stupid heat. Stupid metro. I do have macaroni and cheese for dinner tonight. That, sadly enough, makes me somewhat happier. I also retrieved my poor AWOL iPod last night. I left it on Friday night in SB's car. Well, SB left for other climes on Saturday. He found it, called be obscenely early in the morning to let me know he'd found it, and put it in his mail cubby inside his house. Only problem with this scenario is that I don't have a way to get into his house. I went by Sunday. No one was there. I couldn't make it over there (it's like forever, and by forever I mean a 25 minute drive, away) until last night. I had to commute for TWO DAYS with no iPod. I felt my iq dropping, being forced to listen to the conversations of lost tourists and new interns. Those are iq points I can never get back, people. They are gone for good. So yesterday, I went back by and chased one of SB's roommates into the house. One I'd never met, by the way, which is actually a little frightening. I wonder what I could have stolen...

Befuddling Shoes

There is a man at my metro stop who intrigues me. I see him a couple of times a week, and I'd really like to stop and talk to him, except I'm afraid he might be crazy and, while I don't think he would or could hurt me (it's in the morning, there are lots of people around, he has shoe issues), I really don't want to get stuck in a crazy conversation. Particularly not if he turns out to be internally angry. After watching the crazy guy at Farragut West walk the streets and yell at people, I've realized such things can be a risk.

Anyways, there are lots of people around this town asking for money, but I've never seen anyone like this guy. First of all, he looks nearly normal. The only thing stopping him from completely fitting in to society is the fact that he is mutely asking for money. Well, that and the aforementioned shoe issues. See, the shoes are a big part of the mystery. He HAS shoes, but only some days. And the days when he has shoes, it's not a guarantee that he's wearing them. Some days, you see him standing there, no shoes on, but with a pair quietly sitting beside his feet. Other days, he's wearing them. Still other days, there are no shoes in evidence. What happened to the shoes? Did he walk to the corner without shoes? I've never seen him not at that corner, but maybe I have and didn't recognize him due to his ordinariness. I don't know that I would notice a random person walking with no shoes. I don't look at people's feet THAT often...

The other unique thing about this guy is how he asks for money. There is no sign, he doesn't plead. He just stands there, not looking at anyone, with his hand outstretched and cupped. Which makes me wonder if he really needs that money desperately, because there are very few people who will walk up to someone that closely and put their money directly in his hand. Though he did shave his head a couple of weeks ago and that made him seem more approachable.

It all makes me wonder if perhaps he's doing some kind of social experiment. Perhaps in a few years, I'll open up some magazine and read about the guy who want to see how people would react. Or, I guess I could just talk to him...

Bear Bared

I got my hair retrimmed. And I'm not sure how I feel about it this time. It's more square. I'll give it a week or two to grow on me (ha!), and maybe I'll get my hair cut next time I'm home. The woman I go to there is insanely good and only costs $35, as opposed to the $50 this haircut cost me.

In more exciting news, CW discovered, and more importantly passed on to me, the link to a Bear Grylls blog!! He is of Man Vs. Wild fame and is very hot. Even better, the blog is linked to a photo gallery of some very nice shots. Both SB and CW's boyfriend are a bit jealous of our love for Bear. I'm sorry. He's hot, he's in amazing shape, he knows how to get out of any situation alive, and does crazy stunts for charity. I'm not saying I'd want to marry the guy, partly because he's already married and partly because I wouldn't want to worry that much about my husband while he's jumping into freezing waters and floating on small rafts above shark-infested waters. But I wouldn't turn down a date with him, either.

I'm also trying to decide on whether or not to take a lease. See, the house is very cute, my roommate seems very nice, the location is ideal, and Cassie would have a pug to play with. The rent is reasonable for around here (although SB was nice enough to point out that you are paying more for the ideal location), though a little higher than what I'd like to spend. Actually, I'd like to spend much, much less, but I have this crazy idea where I don't want to live in fear of random muggings or shootings. And I don't want to expose Cassie to potential crack dealers. She is at an impressionable age, you know.

The negatives would be that the house is pretty small, including what would be my room, and there is a shared bathroom. And I have a lot of stuff, mainly clothes and a few pictures/paintings. Plus, the pug goes outside, which means that I probably should start giving Cassie heartworm medicine. And it's hard to tell how well you'd get along with someone from just a brief moment.

But I did like her and the house is cozy and there is the storage shed out back. I just don't know. I hate making decisions like this. I feel like if I say yes, and if she wants me to live there (it's a delicate dance), it's monumental. Sigh. This is why I need a real magic 8 ball...

One More Time for Junk!

Just to keep Home Improvement Ninja happy, there is now a new Catholic boy in the world. Let the gun-burying begin.

Clearly it's been a while since an update. Reasons? Getting ready for big event, big event, exhaustion, illness, no internet due to staying home due to illness... It all takes up a lot of time. The fever dreams are exciting though. Strangely vivid.

Anyways, last night, SB and I were watching So You Think You Can Dance?, at least until Last Comic Standing came on and SB made me change. (Not really mad. It's actually pretty funny. There currently is a guy literally dressed up like an ape. It's his whole shtick.) Watching the bizarre dances made me think of the wonderful time in high school when Haley and I made up a dance. Or rather a "dance." It was strange. Very strange. We spent weeks on it, working during breaks in choir. I can't remember much of it, just a few turns, a jump or two, and that it was very staccato. We only performed it once, for our friends, who stared at us in disbelief and confusion while we fell on the floor laughing.

This made me feel a bit nostalgic and I went to find the picture of us from it. I never found it, but did enjoy looking through the one scrap book I'd made and the one photo album one of my best friends made me. The pictures reminded me of one or two things.

First, and a bit redundantly given the dance story. I was/am quite strange. Not in a freak you out sort of way, but what I like to think of as a refreshingly unexpected and entertaining way. Not only was there the dance, there was also the cookie story (It looks like a cookie, it smells like a cookie, it TASTES like a cookie... IT'S A MUFFIN!!!) which Haley and I would randomly repeat. There were the strange pictures of the Gang of Four, the most innocuous high school gang (originally group) EVER. I mean, seriously. Four white, upper middle class, honor roll students who had known each other since elementary school. There were several pool pictures that I know took hours to set up. There was the picture where I "accidentally" dropped Julie on the floor during set-up. There was my and Emily's favorite joke ("Ask me if I'm a truck..." "Are you a truck?""...no...")<-- it grows on you. I haven't been quite that weird since high school, I'd say. So I'm making it my goal to find people who allow/make me be that weird. Because let's face it. It was a lot of fun.

Also, looking at the pictures, for all my self-esteem issues, I was freaking adorable. So I stick my tongue out at all my crushes who never got up the courage to ask me out. Nerds...

Stepping over the brink

So the whole office officially knows that I'm leaving. Our president made some wisecrack about how a BA in English didn't really add up to much for me. Whatever. My old supervisor who is now just a coworker was really happy for me. He's been funny about it. I think he's the most genuinely happy for me of the whole office. Not that the others aren't, but they all have reasons for wanting me to stay. Whereas this guy, I think, has felt like I should leave for a while. And I heard from the school that they received my deposit and intent to attend, so I'm all formalized there. I just have to get all my medical ducks in a row. My whole family was a little worried about that, as the form claimed the school needed to know by May 1. I had talked to the department and they seemed completely okay with me waiting to decide, and I figured it was all a bit of a scare tactic, but my mom in particular freaked out. All nagging without nagging. Now if I could just find a place... I know I'm still forever out, but as of today I have let my apartment know that I'll be leaving. They want a ridiculous 2 months notice, so... And Cassie is making it so much harder. I tell her that frequently. I do always follow it with a "but I love you, so it's okay," but still. Stupid people and their biases against/allergies to cats.

And Catholic couple should just about be Catholic parents by now. She was supposed to be induced today. So, either there is a new Catholic baby out there, or there will be any moment now. SB, who went home for the race (sigh), saw them on Tuesday and said she was huge. He also informed me that she was already starting to dilate, which was something that a. I didn't need to know and b. I'm not sure if I want him to know either. Anyways, I wish them much joy and her an easy delivery.

Neither Asian or Blond

I have become a compulsive Craigslist watcher, mainly the housing section. Though I do dream of being a missed connection. I have decided that for that to happen, I need to either become Asian or blond. Since blond seems more likely... but then I'd look strange. I'm not a natural blond and it shows.

So I told my supervisor at work today that I'd be leaving in August. He was very nice about it all. Though he did make fun of me for not wanting to tell our President. I believe he called me a chicken. Which I will freely own up to. Just paint me yellow and stick some feathers on me.

I had a rather relaxing weekend that was and wasn't. For one, I really didn't eat much on Saturday, primarily because of my weaving class. I went to the regular class and stayed late to finish warping my loom for my individual project. By late, I mean basically the entire afternoon. and then Saturday and Sunday night, I went into mad weaving overdrive and actually finished my whole scarf. Now I'm planning on going on Thursday, rewarping, and weaving a present for someone. It shall be glorious.

Political ranting

Yay! The local wine store I emailed about the Noche wine is getting it in early June. That makes me very happy. Now I don't have to plan a trip to the winery if I don't want to, or pay the ridiculous shipping charges. Not that I blame the winery for that one. I know they have to pay what the various companies charge them.

So I made the mistake of reading the comments on a Newsweek article on Bill and Hillary Clinton. The article was on whether or not Bill would help or hurt Hillary's campaign. The comments were just ridiculous. I'm not saying that I expect these comments to be erudite, but come on. All, "We shouldn't vote for a woman weak enough to stay with her husband after what he did," and "The Clintons are lying liars who lie and stuff," and "If Hillary wins, it will be the end of civilization and American values!" I'm not saying that people who disagree with me (or with whom I disagree) are dumb; everyone is entitled to their opinions. But people, if you are going to say something crazy, at least back it up with something vaguely resembling reasoning. Tell me what policies Hillary would institute that could have a negative impact upon civilization. And would someone please define American values? Because what I would consider American values (freedom, the belief that everyone can succeed with enough effort, not bombing the shit out of countries for stupid reasons) have pretty well been trampled by this administration. And yet the people who are screaming about American values also seem to be the ones who tell me that not supporting the administration is equal to support terrorism.

Oh, and this is another thing. I know they have defined it as "the war on terror" and people are "weak on terror," etc. I hate that. Terror is an emotion. Terrorists are people, terrorism is an act. Terror is an emotion. Now, I'd say that you could wage a war on terror, mainly by trying to get people not to be afraid. Take Back the Night, I would say, is waging a war on terror. Blowing people up to supposedly stop terrorism? Not waging a war on terror. And how can you be weak on terror? Does that mean you don't get scared enough? I know, I know. Crazy English major arguing semantics. But these things matter, whether or not you believe they do.

Huzzah for wine!

I adore the Mount Vernon wine festival. SB and I went on Sunday and it was just SO lovely. Much better this time than the last time we went. Last time, we went to the one in October. We had tickets for the Friday, we were running late, got stuck in traffic, it was cold, dark, raining, we didn't have enough time to sample all the wines... This time, we had a leisurely late lunch (after my audition) at Cracker Barrel, then drove over and got there right about the time they were opening the gates.

And I fell madly in love while there. With a wine. This wine is AMAZING. It is infused with chocolate. A wine. And chocolate. Mated to create a beautiful dessert wine that is like a good truffle dipped in love. It's Noche from Coopers Vineyard (a VA winery). Sadly, they SOLD out before SB and I bought our bottles. Stupid trying to be practical. Now I'm trying to figure out how best to get my hands on this wine. Because, see, I could order it online, but then I have to pay $6 per bottle for shipping. And that's just wrong. I don't think anyone sells it around here (if you know, please tell me!), and that basically only leaves driving to the vineyard. which is a possibility, but will take time and I want my wine now.

But yes. It was an absolutely lovely night with gorgeous weather. We sat out on the hill, looking at the water, drinking wine, and listening to the band play music, except when "George and Martha Washington" were leading people in cheers. "Huzzah!"

You Wanna Play Capture the Flag?

Someone got here by googling "my bf's hot daddy." This search disturbs me. First of all, what does bf stand for? Boyfriend or best friend? Either way, it's just wrong. I keep trying to find some way in my head to make it not wrong, but it still is.

Also, Roosh V has a blog today about how men should try and get flags, rather than notches. Ie, they should try and sleep more with people from different countries to prove their universal sexiness, rather than just trying to sleep with the most people in general. I've said before, a good portion of his blog is masochistic shit from bitter, bitter men who date girls only to sleep with them and then complain that they don't meet any interesting girls... But this post amused me, not because I agree with it (because it's just stupid), but because it reminded me of why I was in the Sleazy Boys Club.

See, my friends in college created the Sleazy Boys Club, primarily because they act like sleazy 13 year old boys at times. Hitting on their friends, humping their friends, humping my Legolas poster on my door... I gained entry primarily because of my tendency to come up with horrible pick-up lines. Mainly my "my breasts are sore, can you massage them?" line and the "wanna boing my curls?" line. (Sidenote: I never actually used these pick-up lines. I just thought they were funny. So I read about the whole flag concept and I'm reading the comments and all I can think is "Wanna play Capture the Flag?" Which then makes me giggle even more, since I mainly played Capture the Flag with church groups. Which of course then leads me to the time when Michelle and I snickered through an entire worship service because we were perverting it in our heads. Yeah, we weren't a good influence on each other...

On a completely different topic, if I don't figure out how to destress soon, I'm going to go Lily Allen on someone's ass. (She has the whole song about "one drink more and I'm ready for action"). Only I don't need the drink. I seriously thought about hitting this woman on the metro yesterday who apparently, although she looked to be in her early forties, was six, as she kept glaring at me and shoving her bag into me because I was, I don't know, on the metro. Standing close to her, largely because there were 349083409 other people on the metro and I had no choice. Whatever. But her ridiculousness plus my crankiness due to stress could have lead to a showdown... Hopefully, this weekend I can make decisions (I'm going to look at a room in a house that sounds PERFECT! I hope I love it... and a campus) and then I can tell my stupid bosses that I'm leaving and it'll be great.

Stop staring at me! (Or not.)

I'm finally auditioning for a non-church choir. I'm kind of excited, though I'd be more excited if I didn't have to sing my prepared piece acappella. I'm not a big fan of that. Especially since I tend to go sharp when nervous. Plus I have to drive into DC and every time I've tried to go somewhere in particular, particularly places in NW, I get lost. Luckily, the common factor seems to be trying to take 395 into the city, and this time I get to take 50. I can handle that. I hope. Otherwise I guess I'll just be massively late.

I was reading an article on how young people have a completely different idea of privacy than those in their mid-30's. I would link to it, but I'm too lazy. It was interesting, though. I mean, even when I wrote in my diary, I imagined an audience. This blog is just an expansion of that. Does that mean that I was already being impacted by a new thought on privacy when I was only 10? I mean, the internet wasn't really popular then... Did people in previous eras NOT imagine that someone, someday would read what they had written?

Then there is the whole fact that we all basically expect every aspect of our lives to be recorded. By someone at least. I wonder, though, if my age group in particular is more or less circumspect when it comes to what we put online. I wouldn't post anything on any social networking site that I didn't want future bosses to see. Well, that's not entirely true. It probably wouldn't look great all my complaining on here about my job. But if they did see it, I'd be perfectly willing to discuss why I wrote what I did. I definitely wouldn't put up anything that could get me fired. Although these days, anything you put up could get you fired, it seems. Either way, I'm always aware that someone might read stuff, or find pictures, or decide to stalk and eat me. Whatev.

The future LOOMS

Apparently this week is National AmeriCorps week. As an alum, I guess I could do something, but seeing as how I hated my stint in AmeriCorps and only know a few people who enjoyed theirs, I think I'd better not. In AmeriCorps defense, though, I did VISTA (where you do an office job for a non-profit, thus indirect service), which has to be the most confused, least defined of all the AmeriCorps types. I think plain AmeriCorps and NCCC can provide participants with wonderful experiences. VISTA seems to be hit or miss. And I definitely missed.

So I've started looking at housing stuff and I'm getting a little more excited. I definitely want to be on the metro, and it looks like I can be. Whee!! Though then I'll be further away from where I'm taking my weaving class... which makes me sad, since I really kind of want to take the four shaft weaving. See, I took the rigid heddle class because I thought four shaft automatically meant floor looms. But NO! They are these adorable little table looms and I want to work on one and then I want to buy one and it'll be great. And cute. I think I may be in love with these looms. Lust, at least. Which reminds me... I need to steal a marker from work. Our assignment this week is to weave a circle, and I need to mark the warp!

Walking on Coals

I woke up to a rather strange situation this morning. Zach Braff was on my radio station. Now this might not seem strange. Afterall, his movie is coming out today, it's logical to think that he might be out promoting it. But I listen to a country station to wake up with. And Mr. Braff and country music don't seem to go together so well. Though he did start singing some old school country music...

Last night reminded me why I love Pam on The Office. Basically, she expresses everything I hate about my job without me having to figure it out by myself. She's much more unsure of herself in general than I am, but otherwise, we don't seem so different. She had a whole rant about feeling invisible in the office, like she didn't even matter, and a part of me said, "yes! That's a good part of what I hate here!!" Not that even most of my coworkers ignore me. It's just the attitude that if there is something boring, something no one else wants to do and something that requires no real intellect, it's automatically your responsibility. The thought that you don't deserve somehow the same respect that everyone else gets. My boss has shown me that over and over again, somehow thinking that I won't notice. Which of course is untrue. I mean, give me a break. The woman has done great things in her past, but she's not of the highest intellectual caliber. And she looks down on me? Treats me like I can't figure out the smallest thing? Acts like I am only good for insignificant work? Work, I might add, if undone would cause her great problems in her life... Whatever. But yes. So all the Pams out there, I understand!!! And all you non-Pams... don't think you're better than we are. Because you need us more than you know. And soon, I shall be a non-Pam again. I can't wait.