other things that happened this month

more specifically, things that happened on the 11th.

much the way otherwise sane women go all bridzilla while planning their wedding - suddenly realizing they have passionate, if otherwise latent, convictions about whether the china they register for is ivory, cream or off white - i suddenly become completely insane about my birthday. i blame my father, not just because its convenient, but because im fairly certain its his fault. its been at least 20 years since ive spent a birthday with my dad, and 28 years since he's remembered my birth. granted, i often forget his birthday, but, since i had no part in his conception, wasnt present at his delivery, was not responsible for the selection and spelling of his name, and have never lived with him in any meaningful way, i think i can be granted a two day wiggle room. in years past, our birthday tango has gone something like this: he forgets. i fume silently. i wait until fathers day to call him and remind him that he forgot my birthday, at which point he laughs, and says "look at that. you werent even on the calendar!" bartering begins. finally last year i told him, "if you are going to otherwise be absent from my life, attempts at buying my affection (or toleration) are going to have to come with more zeros." i was only 20% joking.

this year, though i didnt hear from my dad on my birthday (or at all until i called him on fathers day which caught him completely off guard as he had forgotten that too), i did receive a gift certificate from him prior to the actual day. so while there is no proof that he actually knows my birthday, he does seem to be aware that he has two daughters, one of whom is still somewhere in her 20s and born sometime early in june. progress!

my mother however went all out as mothers tend to do. she sang me happy birthday no less than five times, and at least once at my office while on speaker phone. she and i spent sunday morning together having brunch (more booze than brunch) then did some light shopping in georgetown which consisted of me shopping for books and music. my sister and her family sent me a gift certificate which ive had already spent (which is so very unlike me. i normally horde those like a squirrel storing up for winter. in fact, at this very moment i have two gift certificates i was given for christmas, one from my first day at work, and one from last years birthday). so thanks m.j.; in case youre wondering, you bought me the mother mother c.d. i couldnt find anywhere else (and by anywhere i mean barnes and noble because i really wasnt trying that hard), the newish voxtrot, miranda july's new book that i will probably find, like her movies, too precious, and an ugly doll (because for a minute i was confused and thought that i was eight).

as for the actual birthday, it was spent among great friends who went out of their way to celebrate with me. i truly and sincerely feel blessed to have friends who will come out with me on a monday night and make sure that i never, not even for a second, stand around without a drink in both my hands. not only that, but apparently 28 is the year of jewelry (who knew?!) and i now sport handmade earrings, a toe ring, and a six-legged spider necklace (which i actually believe to be a dung beetle, an appropriate gift seeing as we're both full of shit!).

i am not, as you will see, a morning person

its 9:30 on a saturday morning and ive been awake and quasi-functional for three and a half hours, two and a half of those at work. i actually got up earlier this morning than i do during the week which is completely unnecessary. however, its for a good cause: papa smurf is taking some of the smurfettes and i to a show at merriweather this afternoon. so, while it sucks to be at work at 7 a.m. on a saturday, its a little easier knowing that by 5pm i will be drinking gin and tonics, picnicking, listening to thievery corporation and manu chao, and generally smurfing it up.

on a smurf related topic: one of the principals at van nasty world head quarters actually said "excellent smurfing" to me on friday. im glad to hear that my one woman mission to bring "smurf" back is starting to catch on.

on a music related topic: pink martini played wolftrap on monday. shows at wolftrap are one of my favorite summer activities. who doesnt love packing a picnic and sitting on a nice summer night (i seriously almost wrote summers eve prompting me to think "who talks like that?" followed quickly by "ewwwww!")? unfortunately for me, i miss pink martini every time they come to town, and monday was no exception. last summer they played the lisner and the a.s.s. was supposed to get us tickets; granted, i should have known better than to put him in charge of ticket buying for a show i, and not he, wanted to see. as you would expect, that little endeavor went pear shaped. this year i was determined to go! however, my desire and determination was in direct opposition to the wilting summer heat and the inaugural night of fort reno. somehow, in spite of a plethora of other options, i ended up once again spending the night bonding with the couch and watching me without you, which for what its worth, is a great movie.

*update: hah! its obviously way too early for me because i totally forgot the purpose of this little trip down memory lane which was: i went in to work on tuesday and c.s. (my sister from another mother) asked the boss: how was pink martini? which prompted me to go apoplectic because, omg, not only could i have had someone to go to the show with, but it could have been the boss man to whom i have an entire wall dedicated as an alter (complete with photos, always burning incense, and hugo boss shoes).

disgusting, or disgustingly good?

five things about me right now:


5) i am eating a pear. a pear thats lived a hard, hard life. a pear so beaten and abused that it could apply for funding under the violence against women act. that said, the pear is still mighty tasty.


4) someone sent me a power point presentation for a briefing that contained this picture which prompted the title of "disgusting or disgustingly good?"

it was titled "butter burger" and is literally a burger smothered in butter. and is that bacon i see? this is the picture the encyclopedia will use to illustrate the phrase "heart attack on a plate." is anyone else hungry?

3) the following assignment was handed out to me at my birthday festivus: find out if the hot guy in my office, a partner no less, is a top or bottom. inquiring gays want to know!

2) and on that note, i am now engaged in a conversation with cocoa puff, maker of excellent mixed tapes, debating if he were to go gay, would he be a top or bottom all because i am incapable of accepting flip remarks at face value.

1) and finally, i am going to see an interpretation of "romeo and juliet" as performed by "tiny ninja theater" before being a silent rendition of hamlet. you say whaaat? exaaaactly!

long time no blog

this week has basically kicked my ass in every way imaginable. work has been insane, and ive been working 13 hour days to try and keep on top of it. sadly, i think im still falling massively behind, but at 9:30 p.m. on any given weekday, there isnt much more that can be done about it.

thankfully, much of the insanity has passed. and even more thankfully, seven months in and i still love my job. its intense and sometimes crazy, but for the first time it feels worth it. most part, im not working for clients im working for causes, which makes the late nights, gray hairs and stress induced ulcers seem worth it. well, that and discovering a 12 pack of beer in the office fridge. thank god we have interns i can blame that shit on.

in other news, i got to meet amani toomer who is even more beautiful in person, and i now have tiki barber's home email to auction off the the highest bidder. commence with the bidding!!

really though, he is seriously pretty. his picture does NOT do him justice. le sigh.

holy fuck !!!

ive seen !!! (chk chk chk) twice before, and theyve been both the best, and the worst, concert ive seen. the first time i saw them a few years ago, i literally stumbled onto the show, and it was one of the most fun and intense concerts ive been to in dc. gasp! people were actually dancing! after the show i became mildly obsessed; in fact their song "pardon my freedom" became my theme song during the 2004 elections when i was volunteering in florida. i would play it (specifically the line "you can tell the president to fucking suck my dick") every morning to psyche myself up to knock on strangers doors all day praying they didnt open the door holding a gun.

so, you can imagine how excited i was last year when they played the black cat on my birthday. i drug friends who have never been to u street before, let alone the black cat (or, you know, ever heard of !!!), out to the show which they ruined by sucking. after waiting for them for hours, they finally took stage for three songs. awesome.

understandably, i was hesitant to go to the show last night, but decided to give them another chance (mainly because i had nothing better to do on a monday night). once again, they were on their "a" game and gave a great show. i dont normally need to be close to the stage to enjoy a show, but we pushed ourselves up to front row center which was awesome because it gave me somewhere to stash the big heavy work bag i was dragging around with me. we were so close that not only was my face basically in the lead singers crotch the whole time, but we got tangled up in the mic cord more than once; i would say we were close enough to smell the band, but, trust me, that isnt saying much. there were scalpers outside complaining about the smell of dirty hippies wafting out from inside.

the best thing about !!! is the lead singer. not only did he once stop a show i was at to yell to the crowd "scream if you love cocaine!" but he prances and dances like a gayer version of mick jagger. i heart him beyond what i can tell you. i want to fold him up in my purse and bring him around with me everywhere i go. although there are two people who trade off vocals; one is energy personified, and the other is this intense, zombie-esque person who im sure survives on a meal of brains and virgin's blood.

i mention the aside about my bag because, once up front, we stashed our bags under the stage and proceeded to defend our territory like mama bears with a den full of cubs. normally, im not so territorial (okay, fine, i am), but this morning i had a meeting with someone about being approved for a mortgage (eek!) and, since the meeting was at 830 this morning, and im not a morning person, i had brought all my paperwork with me, in my bag, to the concert. well, that and because im stupid. so basically, my entire financial history (credit card statement, student loans, savings and checking accounts) were all in that bag. its the sort of thing that if it had been stolen, it would have kind of sucked. there was one drunk, drugged out girl who tried to push her way to the stage, unfortunately for her, she underestimated both our wingspan and our willingness to use our elbows as weapons. and while it was cute when she used her headbanger hair toss to compete for space, it was also ineffective seeing as her ear length hair was no match for the four foot circumference of my porno head thrash hair toss. nice effort though and good luck next time.

and, thank you !!! for not playing an encore.

annuals of douchery

apparently, d.c., youve read the blog and you want to turn this concert going bitchery into a series. either that or im a cat and a bathrobe away from becoming the old lady on the porch who chases kids off her lawn talking about how in my day, kids had some respect for their elders.

now dont get me wrong, im all for people having a good time. much like im completely flexible - so long as everything is exactly how i want it - im completely in favor of people enjoying themselves (so long as they do it in the way i want them to and it doesnt in any way annoy or inconvenience me).

ive already enumerated my top two annoyances (people who wait till the last minute, then push through the crowd and stand directly in front of you obscuring your view and people with cameras held high in the air directly in front of you obscuring your view) so let's start with number three:

3. people who loudly and inappropriately sing; this is not a sing along and no one here paid to listen to you.

4. people. who. clap. but. cannot. find. a. beat. see above.

5. people who dance but have no appreciation of the room their body occupies in space. this is not a thrash jazz class and your right to express the music through you body ends when your elbow connects with my gin and tonic.

6. people who put their beer bottles on the floor instead of in the garbage ensuring that it will be knocked over spilling backwash beer and glass all over your feet.

7. the people outside the club distributing flyers who act as though they are doing you a favor by hoisting their shit on you that you a) dont want, b) will never look at, c) never listen to, d) and only turn around and throw away. and to those who cannot even bother to seem friendly or enthused: you are promoting yourself. if you find yourself that boring, i can only imagine how much i'll hate you. and, if youre going to be selective in your distribution process, maybe standing outside the 930 club at a sold out show, isnt for you; if you want your party to be exclusive then why are you advertising? either you want youre event to sell out, or you don't. if you do then this is no longer a party for just you and your friends; you're going to have to let other people play too, even the not so cool ones.

8. the 6'5 guy and his girlfriend who pushed their way into a space where there was no room for them, and proceeded to stand directly in front of my friends and i (average height, 5'5). you clearly had no idea who the band was, yet, needed to be in the front row and when i said something to you (i dont remember what i said, but im sure it was nothing short of sweetness and light), you're response was "shove it up your ass." check back tomorrow and this spot will simply be labeled "douche" with your picture accompanying it. oh yea, d.c., its on.

when heathens travel

last friday i flew to birmingham for my first trip to the 'bam and the 'ham. i spent the entire two hour flight convinced i was going to die. as ive gotten older, ive become less and less comfortable flying; not only is it unnatural to be suspended 35,000 feet above ground, but, it seems unnecessary to have to sit so close to a complete stranger that i can smell what she ate for lunch. thankfully, i did not die. however my aisle-mate was kind enough to point out that in her experience the pilots who fly the route "arent very good. and these small planes make you feel everything. and they arent good in weather [of which, we were in the middle of having]."

big red picked me up in the 'ham for my first ever in airport, waiting by the gate pick-up. it was all very exciting. the only thing that would have made it better was if dave grohl were picking me up, but, big red is a close second.

between my trip to austin and my trip to alabama, ive eaten more bbq than i thought i would consume in my entire life. apparently there is a huge southern rivalry about what qualifies as bbq. according to a friend from memphis, what they serve in austin is "grilled beef" and sure its good, but it aint bbq. after having experienced the heaven that is dreamland bbq, im inclined to agree.

our bellies full to the point of sickness, big red and i continued to the griffin house show at workplay. not only was the show great, but griffin house is quite a muffin.


after our trip to dreamland, i never thought i would need to eat again. thankfully i was wrong, and we had the best breakfast imaginable though i resisted trying the "yeasty" buckwheat pancakes (im not sure how, sounds so appetizing, doesnt it)?





i was in bama for an engagement party in gurley about an hour and half from the 'ham and the real fun was the drive up. its hard to say what was more fun: 1) figuring out that my cell phone will read me my text messages and the subsequent sending of perverted messages to my cell phone for our enjoyment ("i wa-nt to kees your sweeeet creamy teets"), or 2) the ave maria grotto. the grotto has given my life meaning; it is literally a monument - a shrine - to crap. the grotto calls itself "jerusalem in miniature" and is four acres of miniature reproductions of religious sites. nothing prepared me for the joy that the grotto has brought into my life.



i still havent found the words to talk about the grotto so instead im going to let these pictures speak for themselves. without them, you may think i was too harsh.

if there is a god, i think the fact that big red and i werent struck down after taking this picture, proves he has a sense of humor. though had we managed to get the birth control pills into baby jesus' manger, im sure all bets would have been off.

the actual engagement party was also mind blowing. we arrived at the house where we five men were hired to direct parking, and where golf carts drove you to the door. while we were in the limo driving to the party one of the party guests asked what was manufactured in gurley; i resisted my natural urge to say "blonds." though i did chortle when my friend said she was taking bible study.

the party was literally awesome. i guess if you grow up in a house that looks like southfork ranch, you wouldnt think much of this place, but it looked more like versailles than versailles does. and, out of 250 people, there were only two brunettes, and *gasp* we were also both democrats.

unfortunately, i had to leave early on sunday to get back to dc for work. whereas on the flight to birmingham i was afraid i was going to die, on my way back from huntsville i decided crash landing would actually be preferable to listening to the men seated behind me continue to debate abortion and praise dubya bush as the smartest man alive.

overheard at the engagement party:

"my favorite evangelist is from your town!"

"dear little baby Jesus, who's sittin' in his crib watchin the baby einstein videos, learnin' 'bout shapes and colors"

its been a great week, though, nothing has really gone as planned.

tuesday i had planned on hh with the a.s. but was (shockingly!) blown off. instead, i went to hh with l.f. and then met j.h. for dinner. 2 people + $2 beer + $1 sushi = $60 bill. its a skill really.

wednesday i was planning on meeting a friend for happy hour while killing time before going to the blood brothers show at the black cat; unfortunately, the happy hour and corresponding dinner-of-greasy-food-because-maybe-we-can-trick-our-stomachs-into-thinking-we-ate-first-and-drank-second was a little too successful and i never made it to the black cat. if last week was the week of solo show going (the hard tomorrows/army of me, ted leo), this week was the week of no-show show going. i did however trek out to the 930 club to buy a ticket to the peter bjorn and john show only to find that the box office closed at 11 pm. since it was 10:58 when i arrived and it had long since closed shop, there is no telling what time it actually closed.

friday night after the baltimore or best friend debate was settled, a.m.m.h., her husband and i went out for dinner and drinks. at heritage, we were sat at a corner table and promptly forgotten about. it took 20 minutes for them to take our drink order; a clear sign that they had no idea who they were dealing with. after dinner we drank our way through dupont circle, starting at the russia house and ending at townhouse. all night, a.m.m.h kept saying "isnt that guy your friend paul?" she thought our indian waiter was paul. she thought the guy at the parking valet was paul. she thought the guy walking across 17th street wearing cut-off demin shorts and a leather-daddy vest was paul. and her first words when we walked into townhouse? "hey, isnt that your friend paul?" only this time, it actually was. paul, a.m.m.h. and i went to college together, and paul lived on my freshman floor. i havent seen him in years, but, once upon a time, he and i and a lot of the guys on my floor had all been close. he was holding court with several other guys we went to college with, and it was like being 18 again, walking into fat harry's on a friday night, knowing all my friends would eventually converge there. the last words i heard as we stumbled out of the bar and into the street, were paul shouting "i love you." who needs girl talk when you have boys like that in your life?

last night i missed another show (benjy ferree, the cassettes and the aquarium) and spent another night watching arrested development on my couch.

this morning, i celebrated the resurrection of baby jesus by drinking champagne and bloody mary's first thing in the morning, and coveting l.y.'s fabulous grown-up apartment. after d.n.b. dropped me off at work, i called my mom to discover that she was in the middle of preparing easter dinner for the family. i guess they didnt invite me because they didnt want me to feel bad that i had to work? or, they just didnt invite me. charming.

is my butt in the light?

austin is possibly my favorite city.

if new orleans were a person, she would be amy winehouse: self-destructive, raw, and the kind of drunk who gets belligerent and incoherent, yelling things like "i am the superbowl! i am the cosmic whip cracking." a hell of a good time to party with, but, you know the night is going to either end in tears, with a one-night stand youll regret in the morning, or in jail. and since none of those things are mutually exclusive, possibly all three. austin is new orleans older, slightly more mature sister. not the one who got married to her high school boyfriend and who now lives in the burbs driving a mini van and who has 2.5 kids. no, austin is drew barrymore: the sister who successfully completed rehab but who remains quirky, eccentric, free spirited and proudly weird, and who, on a dollar bet, would probably still flash a bartender for free drinks.

i was in austin for work and unfortunately missed sxsw bythismuch (my conference was monday - wednesday, but i flew out on friday to spend the weekend with t-rock and k.l.m.). because the festival just ended, no touring groups were coming through town. fortunately, austin has loads of other weird and funky ways to pass the night, and the best independent record store in the world, hands down. i should be ashamed to tell you how many cds i bought at waterloo records. i know; im the last person alive who actually buys cds. i cant help it. a trip to waterloo is like high fidelity come to life. i enjoy wandering around listening to any and every cd that trips my fancy, and talking to people who live and breathe music. i always find bands i never would have heard of otherwise, and in the process support both local independent businesses and independent musicians. i went to waterloo every day that i was in austin, and actually drove directly there from the airport.

we spent friday on a boozy cruise of austin filling our bellies with great food and a margarita i actually have dreams about (flavored with blood orange and chili powder. words just dont do its spicy-tartness justice). saturday we wandered around an artists market where i bought a ring (a size too small as though i could suck in and make my finger smaller), and where we ended up in what literally appeared to be an artists commune filled with people who, guessing by the smell of them, hadnt showered. ever.

saturday night we saw little richard play the ut austin quad, which, if it hadnt been such a sad mess, would go do in history as the best performance art ive ever seen. when you see little richard, you expect him to be the black liberace: over-styled, flamboyant and boasting about how pretty he is. what i didnt expect was for him continually offer to give his shoes to the audience. or to repeatedly make racial slurs or comment about how he wants a bunch of fat women to come up on stage. it was a sad and surreal experience where laughing or crying were equally appropriate responses.

in an effort to cleanse our palate, t-rock and i ventured to a party being thrown by a middle eastern restaurant that was closing down. the back of the restaurant had a mini amphitheatre set up with a stage and some nooks decorated with pillows and tapestries and promised a party till dawn. little did we know what we were in for. t-rock and i got there after 10 pm and settled in on a couple of vacant chairs. the first bellydancer to perform was wonderful, setting a high standard for the rest of the night. though it wasnt at all what we expected, we certainly werent disappointed.

after the first belldancer finished, women started swarming the crowds hand feeding guests, who they referred to as gods and goddesses, chocolate dipped strawberries. sensing that we had failed to b.y.o. enough to this b.y.o.b. event, t-rock ran nextdoor to procure more booze while i watched a drag king lash two women together with whips before ripping their tops off and exposing them in all their janet-jackson-on-superbowl-sunday finest. were they not still on stage wearing nothing but pasties, i dont think t-rock would have believed me when i told her what she missed.

the next act was a 30 minute fire dance routine which was 29 minutes too long for my taste. im not saying its not impressive to swallow fire, but after 10 times in a row, it begins to lose its impact. and when you drop your fire, or it goes out repeatedly, it makes you look like amateur hour. clearly she was not a bellydancer, or, a dancer of any kind, but your basic baton twirling former texas cheerleader who discovered hair dye and industrial music. (or maybe im just bitter because she performed a routine to facing east by thievery corporation which our company also dances to).

if you think the previous two acts had prepared us for what came next, you would be wrong.

the drummers, several of whom also doubled as drag kings, "performed" next, and i use that term loosely. the all female drummers formed a line behind the their king while s/he sang a song that went something like this: "spank my ass/make it red/spank my ass/make it red." naturally the ladies in waiting did as they were told. this segued into an improvised rap portion of the performance where the king told the other girls to "pull my pants down/is my butt in the light?/ is my ass red?/is my butt in the light?" which by the way, is my new catch phrase. at this point, t-rock and i were nicely buzzed on gas station wine and utterly fascinated by what was taking place on stage.

we were convinced nothing could possibly top what we'd just seen, but, this is austin, and weird is only a mic stand away. the next performer was a slam poet. now, i dont mean to imply that white girls cant or shouldnt do slam poetry, im sure somewhere in the world is a feminem slam poet; but, i am 100% convinced that they shouldnt perform poems called "to the single mamas and they broke ass baby daddies." while the rest of the beatnik, hippy dippy audience snapped their fingers in agreement, t-rock and i were doubled over, clutching each other and convulsing from the silent laughter that threatened to loudly erupt any minute, which undoubtedly would have gotten us a stern talking to from all the self-satisfied, do-gooders in the audience who did not approve of our "stifling of the performers expression of their goddess nature." we left before anyone could force us to trade in our pumps for birkenstocks or our chanel for patchouli.

all of this to say, i love austin. yes, its self-satisfied and masturbatory, but hell, so am i. not to mention it seems to have more tattoo shops and coffee shops, and in more than one case, tattoo/coffee shops, per square mile than any other place in the world.

besides, where else is a man going to follow you to your car meowing like a cat?

birthday, birthday extravaganza

wednesday, following the great toilet flood of 2007, was a rough day. i was unable to sleep all night and at 4 a.m. when i was still wide awake, i decided that if at 5 a.m. i was still up, i would give up on sleep and go to the gym. going to the gym (at any hour) is not something im known for, and wouldnt you know it, 5 a.m. and im still up. so, i tro
dded down to the gym where i was suddenly not so awake anymore, and it was all i could do to not fall asleep on the treadmill.

i had an 8 a.m. breakfast meeting for work. mornings, like going to the gym and eating non-fat ice cream, are not something usually associated with me.

the rest of the day was a general fog of misery and that unnamed feeling of being so tired you feel drunk.

unfortunately, the night didnt end after work. i had two birthday dinners and a concert to go to. the first dinner with l.f. was great. the service at mimi's was more than a little surly, but, the food was excellent and the company more than made up for what the service lacked. except for their inability to serve me the drink i ordered; for that, there is never an excuse! besides, if youre going to have an entire page of specialty champagne drinks, doesnt it make sense to stock champagne? just a thought.

the next dinner was at etete with j.k. and the girls, followed up the good the bad and the queen show at 930. despite drinking wine that tasted like dirt smells, dinner was incredible and the service charming (especially considering we were a loud, rowdy group of 10 girls). unfortunately, none of us and bothered to check the schedule for the show; i assumed tgtbatq would take the stage around 10:30. sadly, that wasnt so. when we arrived at the show at 10:15 - which by the way was possibly the most crowded sold out show ive ever been too. i blame americas obesity epidemic - they were in the middle of their last song. i thought, surely, they must have another set, right? right!?! they came back for about 20 more minutes, which was plenty for me. i was dead on my feet and the throng of people was too much for me. the show was over by 10:40 and i was free to go home. exceeeept... the 10 coffee's id consumed during the day were finally kicking in and my second wind was in mid-swing.

while rounding up the troops i stumbled upon my friend's husband and his friends who joined us for a round of drinks and an all pixies sing along at the downstairs at the 9:30 club.

all in all, it was a great night. not only did i have a fun time celebrating two of my favorite girls birthdays, but i left early enough to catch the last metro home (which is often the mark of a good financial night), got to spend some quality time with a friend-crush (not my friend's husband, for the record), and drink some really disgusting wine.

by the time i got on the metro, i was so congested i couldnt breath. secretly, i hoped it was a reaction to the wine but alas, i woke up thursday with the funk. when i went to my doctor and he looked down my throat he said, and i quote: "ew! youre all red and infected and mucusey back here." awesome. im thinking of having shirts made that say that.