they had how many ceremonies? and none of them stuck?!

and in other, equally shocking news, pete doherty did a line of cocaine. although it is sad to know, that just because you make a sex tape together, doesnt mean youll stay together. r.i.p. mrs. pam-anderson-lee-rock. may this free you to get back together with tommy.

observations from the lido deck

1) giant is selling a two pound fruit cake for $14.99. i didnt think you could GIVE fruitcake away, much less charge $15 for it.

2) i have to have my picture taken today (which is pretty much my idea of hell) and not only is my hair NOT cooperating, but, i didnt even thing to get my eyebrows (or, ahem, my lip) done! anyone who knows me personally will understand how devastating this is to me. the only thing that could make it worse was if i'd accidentally shown up to work naked.

3) i think its possible that in the process of pretending to be an adult, ive actually become one. last night, i turned down a ticket to my morning jacket because, in my exact words, i had a "big day" tomorrow. frightening.

4) big love is the only reason i have any idea who bill paxton is, or that he is not in fact bill pullman. according to imbd, he's been in every t.v. show and movie ever made (including two pat benatar video collections), but even after watching an entire season of big love (in about 3 days) i still couldnt pick him out of a line-up.

5) i just realized my new office as a transgendered bathroom. i was under the misguided belief that it was a unisex bathroom a la ally mcbeal; it wasnt until i noticed that the men and women's room have signs stating "the all sex bathroom is downstairs" that i finally understood.

6) our office also acquired a piece of art with a woman smoking a cigarette that reads: smoking kills. but at least you look cool doing it. i LOVE this place!

seriously folks. this is what i think about during the day.

bah! this is driving me mad! there is a term used to describe instances where someone's name and job are related (like on seinfeld when the library cop's name is "bookman"), and i cant think of it! gene weingarten (who i love and am throwing virtual panties at right now) refers to it all the time in his washingtonpost.com chats.

countdown

there are often days when i hate my part time job. in fact, working here has made me question my position on forced sterilization more than once. the things that successful intelligent people are unwilling, or more frighteningly, unable, to do for themselves is astounding. the list includes things like changing fuses, plunging a toilet, and turning off a water valve. mind you, i am not a handy person, but i can take off a light cover and change a light bulb without getting confused.

strangely, there are also things that make me love my job. so, im going to make this my second, non-bitter, top five countdown. yey! for:

5) people who talk to you like a person with a brain and dont assume that working somewhere that demands you wear a badge and a polyester suit also makes you a brain dead moron.

4) thoughtful residents who bring me food or magazines, or ask if i need anything from the store on their way out. yesterday someone brought me turkey noodle soup and white girl crack (a.k.a diet coke); today a little girl (see: 2, reason) brought me pizza. someone once gave me two chocolate glazed krispy kreme donuts, a vogue magazine and an us weekly, which is the girl equivalent of getting head from your supermodel girlfriend while watching the superbowl, or at least it is in my world.

3) residents who have become friends, and who come downstairs to chat and keep me company. eight hours can pass very slowly when you are confined to a 2X4 foot space; having people to gossip with makes the day go much faster. and, having cute male residents to flirt with makes the job worth coming to (until you look down are remember you are wearing the vile polyester suit and they are just being nice because you have their mail).

2) kids. ive never thought of myself as the type who likes kids. babies, sure. but kids? kids are snotty and whiny and have jam hands. generally once they learn to talk, and talk back, i lose interest. however, there is a certain precocious eight year old i have grown rather fond of. she and i play card games and make friendship bracelets; she asks me point blank questions (read: rude) that adults would never ask ("do you want kids?" "why arent you married?" "do you have a boyfriend?"); and i got to paint her nails black for halloween (she was a rockstar) and in exchange she shared her candy. i forgot how fun and uncomplicated being eight can be. i likewise adore a certain french toddler who gives me hugs and kisses and calls me "bob" but calls everyone else by my name.

1) the people i work with who are supportive and helpful and generally fantastic. especially mama vee, who (as the name indicates) treats me like one of her kids.

"i"

i am currently obsessed with the magnetic fields album "i". it came out in 2004 so its not actually a new album, just a great one. (there was some debate with dewey about the name of the album. he insisted that it was called "1" as in the number, whereas i firmly believed it was "i" as in the pronoun [i mean, hello, every song starts with "i" (which he claimed was a coincidence and not a concept)]. normally with all things music i would defer to dewey, but i really felt right about this, and it give me great pleasure to say that i was, indeed correct. [although, he may have been joking. im pretty gullible, and he lies with a very straight face]. end aside.).

i dont normally do music reviews because frankly, i know nothing about music except that i know what i like when i hear it. and, im not about to start now (see aforementioned, "i know nothing about music" claim), however, since ive been listening to it on repeat for days now and my linear notes brag about my music taste (which is a bold face lie as anyone who has ever seen my itunes can attest to; amy grant, anyone?) i thought i would share some choice, and im my opinion brilliant, lyrics. the album is filled with love songs; some sad, some ironic but most, an ode to love thats unrequited.

i die
(possibly my favorite song [which i say about almost everything], goes like this, in its entirety):
i die when you walk by
so beautiful and strong
each day you pass my way
in your bubble where nothing goes wrong
you think your youth
a permanent truth
but here is a tear for your eye:
having forgotten how to cry, i die.

i dont really love you anymore
because i am a gentleman
think of me as just your fan
who remembers every dress you ever wore
just the bad comedian
your new boyfriend's better than
'cos i don't really love you anymore

i dont believe you
(i love any song that finds a way to use the word ampersand, not once, but twice!)
so you quote love unquote me
well, stranger things have come to be
but let's agree to disagree
'cos i don't believe you

i had a dream and you were in it
the blue of your eyes was infinite
you seemed to be
in love with me
which isn't very realistic

so you're brilliant gorgeous and
ampersand after ampersand
you think i just don't understand
but i don't believe you

i thought you were my boyfriend
you told me you loved me
i know where and when
come sunrise, surprise surprise
the joke's on me again

i know you don't love me
you know i don't care
keep it hidden better
did i say the world was fair?

i thought i was just the guy
for you and it would never end
i thought we were supposed to be like glue
i thought you were my boyfriend
i thought you were my boyfriend

love or not i've always got
ten guys on whom i can depend
and if you're not mine
one less is nine; get wise
i thought you were my boyfriend
i thought you were my boyfriend

i just hope you're happy
stringing me along
while you're stringing
i'm here singing
this, my saddest song

i wish i could see you
i wish i could sleep
should i freak out?
should i seek out
someone i could keep?

i wanted you tonight.
i walked around a lot.
wishing you were here to keep me from sleeping
with anyone who might
want me, or even not
some guys have a beer and they'll do anything, anything, anything.

how i spent my day

its been well documented that i am a horrible driver. however, after having d.s.b.'s car for the past few weeks, i can safely say, i am no worse than most d.c. drivers (which admittedly isnt saying much). i rarely drove their car but, i did take it for a spin today and the only accident i almost had was when two idiots in an mercedes station wagon decided to cut across three lanes of traffic in dupont circle to turn onto mass ave. prissy, undoubtedly-from-virginia, bree-van-de-kamp-wanna-be-in-a-twin-set-and-pearls passenger had the nerve to give me a look im sure she usually reserves for when her husband manually inserts the hunk of coal she gets for christmas up her ass (im sure they're diamonds just in time for valentines). having seen what they were trying to do, i slowed to let them in, but, being idiots from virginia (of which i am also one) they dont know how to merge, and instead came to a dead stop and gave me the above described death stare. i waved them ahead with my hands, AND gave them the exasperated bugged out eye stare, so really there was nothing more i could have done to signal them outside of mailing them an engraved invitation pleading with them to join my lane.

so, the reason for my afternoon excursion was a trip to the national arboretum. ive always wanted to go, and it was literally the one thing on my to-do list for while i was unemployed. and wouldnt you know it, i never managed to go. you really need a car to get there so i had planned on going my last friday of unemployment, but instead spent the day with dewey and had a fabulous time (except for the fact that it was the last time ive seen him, or with the exception of a text message, heard from him). i didnt get started as early as i wanted today (because really, who can be bothered to get out of bed?), but i did eventually get showered and climb in the car. ive seen the arboretum a dozen times, but of course, the one time im looking for it, i cant find it. i must have been within a block of it for 20 minutes before i gave it the proverbial finger and headed back to d.s.b.'s to park the car. instead, i spent the day on their rooftop deck, drinking coffee and reading a book. all of which i could have done at home, on my own rooftop deck, except my coffee is almost as bad as my driving, so, its still a win though a minor one.

miraculously self-healing inanimate objects

i just locked myself out. at work. and stood outside waiting for someone to walk out of the building for 15 minutes. thank god its not cold.

on the weekends i work at an apartment building as the front desk girl. i walked outside (without my keys) to clean the windows, and thought to myself: even though the door is broken, i bet i can manage to lock myself out. i dont know if i should be mad at myself for being so stupid, or celebrate my newly discovered telekinetic powers.

strangely enough, its 10:50 p.m. on a saturday night and no one is coming in or out. a resident parked in his car on his cell phone however, clearly recognized my pacing as a sign of distress and threw me his keys. after he stopped laughing, that is.

because we cannot always count on celebrities to entertain us

3) proof that only idiots tuck their guns into their waistband: kidnapping ends when assailant shoots himself in his left testicle. nevermind that they were kidnapping someone over a dispute involving a stereo.

2) a coke fueled sex romp ends with a woman locking herself in the bathroom. naked. after almost being strangled by her lover. did i mention she locked herself in the bathroom of the waffle house? NAKED?!? and that her boyfriend gave chase? ALSO NAKED?!? just another night at the waffle house. on an unrelated note, can anyone account for don sherwood's whereabouts at that time?

1) a naked man was apprehended while masturbating on a tree stump. according to the ap report, he was initially arrested for "suspicion" of indecent exposure. apparently being naked and masturbating isnt conclusive enough evidence. after being asked if he had any weapons, he admitted to having a 6 inch metal awl inserted in his rectum.

there are so many parts of this story i love: is it protocol for the police to ask a naked man if he is carrying a concealed weapon?! and why did the ap story claim that he "allegedly" had a weapon? once a 6 inch awl is removed from your ass, i dont think we have to say "alleged" anymore. not to mention the several mentions of his recently being released from prison; i guess this is how they give cheek in the big house.

gratuitous posting

for my own viewing pleasure.

ama, wtf?

allow me to confess that i hate reality shows (except those on bravo, a la top chef and project runway). with the exception of the first season, ive never seen any of american idol, and i dont listen to country music. but, i saw these pictures of carrie underwood and thought to myself: wow! finally a young woman who manages to look both attractive and sexy while still covering all of her essential anatomical girl parts. i can neither see her nipples nor how good a waxer she has! and sadly, this is all it takes to be considered lady-like.

according to wireimage, this is how ms. underwood looked on the red carpet:


lovely.


and, this is how she looked while on stage performing:



which is exactly how i would picture someone dressing while performing a song titled "jesus take the wheel." dignified. classy.

um...









spoke too soon.

and tori spelling was there because?...

allow me to sum up the american music awards in two trends:

1) shiteous wigs, with "fringe," from the jessica simpson collection; see: stefani, gwen; spears, britney; hilton, paris; furtado, nelly.










2) and, skirts so short that undressing for gynecological exams is no longer necessary; see: knowles, beyonce; dolls, pussycat; spelling, tori; and again, stefani, gwen (see above).











and then there is the inexplicable:











i cannot even begin to imagine to what we owe this picture.

giving thanks

i am thankful that:

5) after tagging k-fed, britney has released him back into the wild, a.k.a. las vegas. ive already purchased my one way ticket. popozao!

4) though im heartsick to see that paris and nicole seem to be on contractionally obligated speaking terms again, i am pleased to hear nicole has given dealer, i mean stylist, to the stars rachel zoe the boot. here's hoping that food deprived starlets take sides and bitchy cat fights ensue to be recorded for all time in us weekly. praise allah. amen.

3) despite an affinity for tights, lindsay lohan still cannot master the evil complexities of "underwear" and may never graduate to "getting out of a car without exposing the world to her lady bits."

2) that becks is committed to making less beautiful men everywhere feel better about themselves by going out in public dressed as a spinster-cat-lady-who-got-a-good-deal-on-a-holiday-sweater-from-kohls as interpreted by mr. rogers. at least he looks angry at having been photographed in that sweater.

1) that kat(i)e and tom finally made that little bastard suri legal. maybe now i wont have to hear about how "amazing" a woman she is.

donnie darko

donnie darko ruined several things for me; namely bunny rabbits, and jake gyllenhall. my love of cute, fluffy bunny rabbits has previously been chronicled. however, they have nothing in common with the six foot, one eyed frank, a man in a bunny rabbit suit with a skeleton head, and even less with harvey, the imaginary 6 foot 8 inch friend of jimmy stewart that i remember loving as a kid. i think its going to be a while before i look at bunnies the same way again. thank god its thanksgiving and not easter.

secondly, i heart jake gillandhaul. he seems strangely rugged and sensitive at the same time (but not in a limp wristed kind of way). he strikes me as the perfect boyfriend; just looking at him in his jeans, t-shirt, hoodie and worn in vans, you cant help but picture staying in and snuggling on the couch while watching netflix and eating pizza. he's like a human roofie. clearly, i have very strong feelings for jake gayllenhill. strangely, playing a mentally disturbed, heavily medicated guy with sociopathic tendencies who suffers from hallucinations, only made me love him more. that being said, watching donnie darko did a lot to crush my crush. everyone has an awkward phase - i for example am still in mine - but seeing him looking like he's 15 made me feel like a lecher. next thing you know im going to be wandering around middle school parks wearing nothing but a trench coat.

my favorite (holiday) things

my mom packed my bags and gave me a one way guilt trip to her house for the holidays. she had to work today so ive been sitting around in my jammies watching t.v. and eating leftovers. god i love thanksgiving.

top five things about the holidays:

5) mint m&ms. i seriously wait all year for them and then buy out every store i can find.

4) wash f.m. and their 24 hour christmas music from (before) thanksgiving until christmas. im sure i should be ashamed of this, but its just not christmas until my mom has tortured my sister and i with "christmas in washington" and barbra streisand singing "jingle bells."

3) white christmas, my favorite holiday movie that no one will watch with me.

2) my three and a half year old niece singing christmas songs in her teeny, tiny baby voice and getting excited about her "christmas jammies."

1) gingerbread lattes. so delicious. so lacking in any nutritional value.

normally, i like 'em cute and drrrty

unless im doing the "drunk-girl-stumbling-home-in-high-heels" walk of shame, 4 o'clock is a time i firmly believe only comes once a day. unfortunately, my moms cat doesnt seem to agree. i know this because im currently squatting on the couch in the basement. proving that life does in fact go on without you, my childhood bedroom has been turned into a "zen room." my stuffed animals are displaced, i no longer have a bed, and i now sleep in the same room where the kitteh's litter box is. the cat and i decided to curl up and call it a night around midnight, our bellies full of thanksgiving goodness; one of us however, decided she needed to get up at 4:18 a.m. to have her ears scratched. and visit the litter box. then, climb back into bed with me. finding kitteh litter on my pillow is the primary reason i am not a pet person.

i resist new technology

okay, thats not really true. im just cheap. virtually everything i own is a handy-me-down; i dont have a home phone, or a computer; my t.v. is the same one i got for christmas in 1992 and is approximately 8 inches (which is a respectable number when measuring some things, just not a t.v.); and, i dont have cable (mostly because i would end up staying awake till 3 a.m. watching elimidate and the fifth wheel). so, for all of the aforementioned reasons, i also dont have netflix; why would i? i am a) too cheap for it, and b) who has time to sit around and watch movies all day?

apparently i do. my friends gave me six months of netflix as a belated birthday/holy shit youre unemployed present; i practically have bedsores from sitting on the couch. its utterly pathetic. my biggest complaint is that i need MORE movies! three at a time just doesnt cut it when i insist on watching all three in one sitting (ive always had a problem with portions control). and since i dont have cable and am behind on all my pop-culture t.v. shows, ive been able to netflix lost, grey's anatomy, weeds, big love, project runway, entourage and, in my more private, shameful moments: the golden girls, and the girls next door. i should probably be more embarrassed by that than i really am.

and speaking of abusing technology, im newly obsessed with my blackberry. but not for the normal reason... no, im addicted to playing brickbreaker. i dont think this is what my office had in mind.

drunk girl, table of one

this is what drunk girls do after consuming a bottle of wine before 7:30 pm. i wont tell you what they do at 2 a.m. after being at a bar for five hours and drinking god-only-knows-how-many gin and tonics, and at least one shot of soco and lime.

world headquarters: new and improved

van nasty new world headquarters are fabulous. there is a dollar diet coke vending machine, and our kitchen is where cakes and pastries come to die. this is my definition of heaven, and its exactly how i always pictured it looking.

ass so phat you can see it from the front

lately it seems the only thing i do is go to weddings or wedding related activities, but, im not complaining. i heart weddings. i love the food, the booze, the spiffily dressed boys, and the overall air of celebration and happiness. the opportunity to share in your friends hopes and joy and plans for their future; it makes me all schmoopy on the inside. although that could just be the shots talking.

last night i went out for m.m.'s bachelorette party (ignoring the fact that she is already married having eloped last weekend to vegas with n.b.). seven of us went to marrekesh for a seven course meal and some belly dancing, followed by some dancing of our own at 18th street lounge; capping our night off with milkshakes and omelets at the diner at 4:30 a.m.

as you can tell by our blushing brides outfit, she is clearly a wall flower:

seriously. girlfriend is wearing pants that look like chainmail, a red mesh shirt over a leopard print bra (with matching purse) and a mans suit vest. her husband told us she was the toast of vegas, as if that would be a shock. m.m is the kind of girl who gets noticed everywhere she goes. hell, a woman got up from her table and gave m.m. her phone number as we were being seated at the diner. she is THAT girl. i mean, she took a taxi to her wedding, and got married by elvis in a duwop dinner. is it any wonder we love her?

last night happened to be one of the most fun girls nights ive had in ages; in fact, considering our lack of penis sippy-cups, fake veils, suck-a-buck shirts, or any kind of treasure hunt requiring men to give you their underwear, you would have never known we were a bachlorette party (except of course that we kept loudly and drunkenly toasting it).

i would post a group picture, but so far, all the ones ive seen are very, very unflattering of me. you should however see m.m.'s ass in those pants. girlfriend's bedunkadunk was redunkadunk.

syracuse: still cold

so the reason there were no updates last weekend (now that im internet-less during the week and my updates are limited to scamming free internet off my part-time job) is that i was in syracuse, freezing my girl bits off in d.n. and s.b.'s wedding.

i had forgotten how very, very cold upstate new york can be in the winter, but was promptly reminded as i went from the from 60-70 degree d.c. weather to snow in a matter of 45 minutes. thankfully i had booze to keep me warm.

i know a lot of people are going to disagree with me on this, but, in my opinion, being a bridesmaid is the only way to go when you have to go to a wedding. not only do you actually get to spend quality time with the bride and groom (and groomsmen), but, you get pedicures and spa treatments; champagne limo rides; your hair done; cute shoes and earrings; and, when you are wearing your bridesmaid dress, you have a get out of jail free card to be (almost) as obnoxious as you want at the wedding reception. hell, you're not just some guest! you're a bridesmaid damn it. respect the dress, bitches! i imagine the only thing better than being a bridesmaid is being a groomsman. as far as i can tell, their only function in a wedding is to test the physical limits of a 30+ year old liver and to establish exactly how much one can drink without needing their stomach pumped, or getting so drunk they miss the actual wedding.

the wedding rehearsal friday was ... interesting at best. there were two ministers, neither of whom appear to have ever performed a wedding before, a two year old ring bearer whose attention span was actually shorter than the boston terrier who was accompanying the man of honor down the isle. having a man of honor instead of a maid of honor was probably the most normal thing about the damn wedding. following the rehearsal (which lasted about an hour longer than the wedding itself) was a dinner where i decided to taste each of the 8 wines served, twice (for good measure - i would hate to have judged any wine to hastily). the dinner was followed by several more hours of drinking with the groomsmen and punctuated by many requests to "show my boobs." apparently no matter how old they are on the outside, all men are in a state of arrested development that stopped around age 15.

while i only got a whopping three hours of sleep between friday and saturday (8 a.m. hair appointments are gods way of punishing lushes) the bride got even less. unfortunately, she got a bad case of food poisoning (along with two other people) and spent the night in a very compromising position, though not the one preferred by her fiancé, im sure. her make-up artist however was able to do a fantastic job, and im not just saying that because it was me. see for yourself (ignore the "get the eff outta my way" face and focus on the pretty, pretty makeup):

thankfully, the wedding went off without a hitch; the reception was a blast: the food was good, the alcohol flowed freely, and the band played 70's funk music. not to mention there were cupcakes and cookies with shots of milk. what more does a girl need?

i will however say, outdoor wedding photos in syracuse, new york in the snow while wearing strapless dresses maybe isnt the best idea. im just saying, not only were the dresses blue, but so were the girls. it was like a wedding party with 5 smurfs as bridesmaids.




congratulations to the bride and groom who are currently enjoying the beautiful beaches of thailand. dont worry, i have neither burned down your condo nor crashed your car. yet.

p.s. she may be married, but girlfriend still has a great rack.

i am indeed still alive

so, i must admit, i could get pretty used to unemployment. today i was museum bound, but, instead ive been sucked into a top chef marathon that i may or may not escape from. im hoping to hit up the sackler, the portrait gallery and the american art museum, but most likely im going to still be sitting here watching top chef three hours from now, especially now that ive seen the "hot" chef. yummers. unfortunately, monday brings an end to my days of lounging in my jammies watching veronica mars on DVD and netflixing porn. that is, when im not sitting around d.n.b. and s.b.'s house naked - naked time, all the time, baby!

irony or fly in your chardonnay

yesterday, my friend d.n.b. sent me a text message from thailand but i couldnt respond because i couldnt get any reception in the parking garage. seriously. she could send me a text message from thailand, but i couldnt send a message from 15 feet underground.