Word of the Day: Homemade

home·made
1. made or prepared at home, locally, or by the maker's own efforts

I have been to four Christmas parties this week. For each I have made some incredibly involved appetizer or food dish, prepared entirely from scratch with my own hands -- very homemade -- and might I add, delicious. But I've come to realize that no one cares if you bring something homemade or if you stop by the store for some cheese and crackers. As long as the food is edible, they will eat it, and they don't care if you slaved over it for approximately 2 seconds in the line at Giant, or if you lovingly prepared it over the course of five hours at home. Therefore, I have decided to no longer make things at home for public consumption at parties where no one cares. Sorry everyone -- no more chili cheese bread, ginger beef wraps, chocolate kahlua triffle. No more.

Merry Christmas!

Word of the Day: Disquietude

dis·qui·e·tude
–noun the state of disquiet; uneasiness.

I type this as I am listening to a choir of cicadas hissing in the background. That might not seem abnormal, since cicadas naturally make their home here in Washington D.C., but if you add the fact that I am sitting inside a building right now and it is December, then you've got a strange conundrum. The fact is, the noise is not cicadas, it is a loose or leaky pipe that hisses invariably as air is forced through it. The noise has lasted now seven days.

This would not be a problem for the normal human being. But alas, I am not normal. We knew that already. I have super-sonic hearing. You laugh, I know. But it is very true. I sometimes hear noises that no one else in the world would ever notice unless I was kind enough to point them out. My coworkers often balk at me for pointing out noises such as the cicadas to them because they were blissfully unaware until I mentioned it. But why should I suffer alone because of my "special" hearing? I might have to buy a pair of noise reduction headphones just to survive.

You're laughing again. But there's an actual hormone, called aldosterone, that can increase your hearing as you get older and higher levels are produced. If my hearing gets any better, I won't be able to live in a normal society.

Today is my dad's birthday. And just so he knows that I'm thinking of him, I thought I'd broadcast it all over the Internet.

Word of the Day: Clairvoyant

clair·voy·ant –adjective
1. having or claiming to have the power of seeing objects or actions beyond the range of natural vision.

Astrology. Not something I regularly pay any attention to. But now a study done by the auto insurance industry tells what drivers are best and worst based on astrological sign. Is it possible? Well, I agree with their findings that Scorpios, along with Sagitarians and Capricorns, are the best drivers. I tend to consider myself a fairly decent - okay in general a superb - driver. But how much can be told by adding up the number of people filing claims by sign? I have a feeling the findings are constantly influx, as the happenstance of accidents favor one particular of the signs. In other words, it's certainly not an exact science.

Carol Allen, one of the most respected astrologers in the country and the astrologer of choice to Hollywood’s movers and shakers, explains that in astrology, the month of your birth may be less important than the position of the planets at a given time.

“In astrology, there is actually a planet that represents vehicles and a planet that represents accidents,” she says. “When the planet of vehicles is with the planet of accidents, no matter what the person’s sign -- they will have accidents!”

Word of the Day: Sui Generis

sui generis \soo-eye-JEN-ur-us; soo-ee-\, adjective:
Being the only example of its kind; constituting a class of its own; unique.

This weekend I went to an Air Force Holiday concert at DAR Constitution Hall. I think concerts like these hold more meaning when you're seeing them in the nation's capital. There's something about the uniform and the flags and the "pomp and circumstance" that is more thrilling with the proximity to the center of the free world.

We may have been the only young people (and by young I mean under 60) in attendance, as we realized while standing in line behind more than a few blue haired ladies. However, you cannot discount the children who were forced to attend by their well-meaning parents. They were all dressed up in their finest Christmas clothing. And oh so cute.

The reason for attending, aside from the culture and our very well-rounded taste in music, was to see my friend Brad perform in the Singing Sergeants. Brad was chosen in 2004 to sing the National Anthem at the Presidential Inauguration. So you can imagine how incredible a voice he has. They performed a very silly version of the 12 Day of Christmas that was worth all the minutes of my life I lost during the reading of Why the Christmas Tree isn't Perfect, an extremely long and boring children's story about "little limb" or "tiny tree" or whatever the stupid tree's name was.

And then on Saturday we had our very best ever small group social -- a Christmas party that attracted over 150 people between the hours of 6 and midnight. An amazing turnout!

Word of the Day: Procrastination

I know. I know. I'm suddenly the kind of blogger that I hate. The one who doesn't post for weeks on end and then when she finally does, has nothing to say. The thing is, well, I just don't have anything to say. I think a year and a half of blogging every day has run the well dry. Let's face it. I'm boring. Ever since I learned that Gene was ending his chat until next May, I have had very little will to write. How can I survive without Gene? And then to add to injury, Allofmp3.com is closing down. Now where will I get my music? You don't know me at all if you're thinking right now that I should use iTunes.

So it's my favorite time of year again (sarcasm intended). Every parking spot in every parking lot is taken by serious shoppers looking for bargains. I have done all of my shopping via the Internet this year. Starting this weekend, I'm no longer leaving the house for anything except work. The crowds are insane. I cannot take one more person cutting me off in traffic, one more crazy parent pushing a stroller over my foot, one more insane child screaming over the toy their parent won't buy them. Why do people lose their common sense at Christmas?

Word of the Day: Accent

I'm from Oregon. I have no accent. The only word I pronounce strangely is "bandana" and that is only because I choose to change the a into an e and call it "bendena". It's non-scientific silliness. Anyway, I was flying back to DC from Oregon a week ago and I noticed something rather peculiar. I've known this for a while because my mom and sister do it, but I had forgotten until I heard it again and some people next to me laughed at the absurdity. The flight attendant was telling us that the flight to Washington DC would be boarding soon. Only she didn't say Washington, she said "Warshington". This would also occur when someone mentioned doing the warsh or warshing the car. I think it's strictly a west coast thing, maybe even just Oregon. But my coworker says that her dad uses the extra R there too and he's from Texas. So maybe not.

The other word I can think of that we use in the West that I don't think is necessarily used here is "sack" as in a grocery sack. People here only use the word bag.

So I took this quiz and it predicted my accent correctly in that it showed The West as being the highest donominator... but The Midlands? I don't think so. It seems to think that people from Pennsylvania don't have an accent and I greatly disagree...

What American accent do you have? Your Result: The Midland "You have a Midland accent" is just another way of saying "you don't have an accent." You have a good voice for TV and radio.
The West
North Central
Boston
The Inland North
Philadelphia
The South
The Northeast
What American accent do you have? Take More Quizzes

Word of the Weekend: Architecture

I went to Chicago for the long weekend to visit a dear friend of mine whom I haven't seen in a while. She used to live in Washington and we were inseparable. Then she moved. :(

Anyway, she took me on this incredible architectural boat tour along the lake which taught us everything we'd ever want to know about the buildings of Chicago's downtown area, including the Sears Tower and the Woolworths buildings. I learned a lot of great things about both the architectural styles and Chicago itself, but the overall feeling I came away with was how depressing the Modern style is. Whoever thought that was a good idea (his name is Mies van der Rohe) was pulling a fast one over on everything. Imagine the money he made off of these designs. And all they really amounted to was a rectangular box with no ornamentation, no detail, no creativity. Just a black, lifeless box. Here's an example of the typical Mies van der Rohe design. Those buildings in the background have parking on the lower 20 or so levels. It's rather disconcerting to see cars hanging out where BBQs should be.

Oh and I tried two different kinds of Chicago deep dish pizza. So now I feel that I've had the Chicago experience and I can add it to my list of cities that I actually know something about. I'd never move there though -- too darn cold. While it was 75 degrees here, it was a mere 35 there. Brrr.

Word of the Day: Vow

vow 
noun: a solemn promise, pledge, or personal commitment

I went to Oregon last week for an emergency trip. The late notice ticketing of course gave me no options as to flight times, etc, and that makes for some crazy routing. Why one has to fly an hour north to get 2 hours south is still something I'm comtemplating days later. I had three layovers on each leg of the race -- er, flight. I have also discovered the worst possible way to spend your birthday. It involves a security gate, four-inch wide coach-class seat and the option to buy a pre-heated ecoli burger with onions for $10.

The trip was worth it though because I got to see my family, whom I often don't see but twice during the year, and I was able to see my grandmother, whom I see once every three years, if I'm lucky. She and my grandfather were married for 70 years. If only we could pull that off in our own generation. It took incredible amounts of dedication and patience, I'm sure, but today we are so divorce happy that a 10-year marriage seems long. Look at Britney... two years was actually kind of a long time to be married to that loser, but did she really go into that thinking she'd be happily married to Kevin Federline for 70 years? I don't think we go into marriage for the long haul anymore. I think we only consider marriage with our "today" glasses on. Maybe I'm wrong, but look at all these celebrities with kids and broken marriages.

No More Animals!

I've now read two articles today alone that discuss the idea that animals have become more human-like, even to the point that some animals have cognitive awareness of self and can identify themselves in a mirror. Not just chimpanzees, which have forever been the only animals to display human-like behavior. Now scientists think that elephants might have the ability to identify themselves (read this article).

Yesterday I read an article about how a honeybees genome sequence is more similar to a humans than any other insect. I know that sounds extremely boring, but this article says "Understanding the bee genome might lead to important insights into common mental and brain disorders, such as depression, schizophrenia or Alzheimer’s disease. The bee genome also might provide an important window into immunity and aging." I suppose it's a bit like mice and the fact that we can use them in studies to see how humans might react to drugs and to diseases like cancer, but it's still pretty amazing that researchers can use the DNA of a bee to determine how illnesses can affect humans. Of course, keep in mind that the only insects to be sequenced so far are the mosquito and the fruit fly.

Is it only a matter of time before we realize that animals are smarter and more useful than we ever imaged? I don't think we're quite there yet, at least I don't want to admit that we might be, since I don't really have a huge affection for animals. But I think it's quite possible that we've underestimated the ability of animals.

Word of the Day: Milestone

Milestone: a significant event or stage in the life, progress, development, or the like of a person, nation, etc.: Her getting the job of supervisor was a milestone in her career.

This is my 201st post. I knew the blog had come full circle when someone I don't know found photos of Michelle and me online and then somehow figured out where we work and tracked us down. All because of this darn blog that I can't even remember why I started. The photo in question is last year's Steve-o-ween photos. Turns out some people were googling Steveoween looking for photos and came across my blog (because I'm popular like that) and then we also learned that someone who helps plan the party every year is from Walla Walla. It's a really small world.

So, this year Steve-o-ween is no more. It was called 1324-o-ween or something not nearly as witty. I couldn't stand the thought of supporting a party that ditched Steve, so I went to some other parties instead. The first, on Friday, was a really large event. The hosts dressed as Motley Crew and spent the latter part of the event throwing waffles to an eager crowd. The second, on Saturday, was the scariest halloween party ever. I went as a Corpse Bride and won 2nd place for best costume. Whoo HOO!!

And here is my favorite photo of all -- a duel between 007 and Rainbow Brite.

More Clouds

As you may remember from previous posts, I once had a major crush on taking photos of clouds. I think I posted a dozen or so on here. Well, here's the king of all cloud photos. This was taken from the plane when we went to Fort Lauderdale earlier this month...

Pumpkin Picking

This post is going to be mostly photos. Last weekend we went on a trip to the Great Pumpkin Patch, where we picked out many lovely future jack-o-lanterns. Homestead Farms is the best place for pumpkin picking in the area. I go there for apples too, but their pumpkin patch is awesome.


Cassie and I agreed, cut-out photo ops are the best!


And here they are, all carved up

Word of the Day: Malcontent

malcontent
1. One who is discontented or dissatisfied

I have for a very long time sung the praises of the best music download site in the world, a site that charges (it professes legally) something like .10 cents per song and $1.28 for an album. I know this sounds ridiculously illegal, and most English sites charge $1 a song. But our IPR rules are must more stringent and less forgiving and, well, basically Napster ruined it for everyone a long time ago.

But now, after years of buying music for next to nothing, the pressure on this site to shut down is so great that they are revamping their website to comply with the rules, though only slightly. They will apparently now offer free albums but you can only use their software to play it -- which means no more downloading to the MP3 player. So what is the point of that? Sure it keeps people from distributing more copies of the music that was once delivered as an mp3. But will people really go for this? We are picky. We are demanding. And we want music for the sole reason of playing it on our way to work on the metro and running on the treadmill.

So, thus, I am really malconent at the idea of my perfect Russian music site changing. Who needs change anyway? Why can't we keep things exactly the same forever? Is that really too much to ask?

Word of the Day: NOTHING

I don't have anything profound to say, but I am forcing myself to find something even horribly mundane to write about because I am forced to sit in my cubical of hell for another 1 hour, 18 minutes before I can escape the miserable boredom that sinks in around 3:28 every single friday afternoon.

I spent a few long minutes playing around with the random insult generator but I got a little annoyed when all it would randomly spit out was "You should find out if your university has a refund policy." I think I started to take it persoanlly. Then I tried to see who my soul mate was after the very same insulting website told me it could pinpoint it with great accuracy. I learned that he will have brown, green or blue eyes and his name with start with a U, Z or F. Yeah. Ok.

This one is kinda fun -- you are presented with two bad things and you have to determine which of them is the worst.

It rains every day of your beach vacation.
The weather is perfect, but your hotel room smells like sour feet.

Your boss gives you a 10% pay cut.
Your boss advises you to work 10 extra hours per week.

Here's one I just made up myself:
You work in an office the size of a small bedroom but there are no windows.
You work in a very small cube situated along a bank of floor-to-ceiling windows.

I'm taking Michelle out to dinner and a movie for her birthday tonight in Dupont Circle. Maybe that's why I'm so bored today -- there's something really fun to look forward to.

Word of the Day: Inscrutable

inscrutable:
Difficult to fathom or understand; difficult to be explained or accounted for satisfactorily; obscure; incomprehensible; impenetrable.

Finally, after many days and nights of wonderment, I have discovered what those three incredibly vexing steel spears are that stick up into the sky near Arlington National Cemetary and the Pentagon. I have literally spent hours in dazed confusion over the seemingly random "art" that someone must think is worthy of displaying so prominently along 395 for everyone to see. As this Washington Post article puts it, "From a distance they look like the ribs of a crown roast, or a metallic flower or the graceful ends of a scallion sliced for the crudites platter."

It is none other than the new Air Force Memorial.

I am reminded again of a game in the Mole when I see these spears. The game was for half the team to create a work of art that would be displayed in a gallery opening alongside actual works of professional artists. They created this fabulous treasure chest with a boxing glove on a chain coming out of it -- I think you have to see it to appreciate it. Anyway, they ruined it by putting jewels just out of reach of the glove, which complicated it too much and destroyed the vision. This memorial does that to me. It might have been an interesting concept if it didn't include all these extra elements that complicate it (read the article for more detail). And for the fact that driving by on the freeway, there's no earthly way to tell what it is, and believe me, it's not apparent. To me it looks like a student art project gone wrong.

Word of the Day: Chocolate

I was devastated to learn just now that I am missing the 23rd Annual Chocolate Festival in Lexington market in Baltimore this weekend. I was wondering if such a festival existed, after nearly consuming an entire Caramello (not the regular small size, I admit). Of all the chocolate in the world, I might have the biggest weakness for Caramello. With exception of the insanely delicious caramels I found in a small shop in Brussels (where I learned the true meaning of "to die for").

The festival claims to offer lots of chocolate samples, but the best part, by far, is the chocolate eating contest. Imagine the stomachache that would produce! I mean hotdog eating is bad enough, but stuffing multiple chocolates in your mouth at one time invokes scary memories of the time on Amazing Race when they had to consume hundreds of truffles in search of one that had a white chocolate center.

And speaking of white chocolate, I took a survey to find out what kind of chocolate I was and as it turns out, I am...

You are White Chocolate

You have a strong feminine side with a good bit of innocence thrown in. Whether your girlish ways are an act or not, men like to take care of you. You are an understated beauty, and your power is often underestimated!

What Kind of Chocolate Are You?

Word of the Day: Incompetence

in‧com‧pe‧tence 
1. the quality or condition of being incompetent; lack of ability.

Finally we have an explanation for why all those terrible singers go on the American Idol tryouts even though they can't carry a note. Can they not hear for themselves just how awful they are? I've always wondered, and now we have an answer...

People who do things badly, Dunning has found in studies conducted with a graduate student, Justin Kruger, are usually supremely confident of their abilities -- more confident, in fact, than people who do things well.

So now I can imagine why people who really can't paint keep on doing it, and why there are so many horrible writers trying to get their novels published. The problem this poses, particularly in terms of writing, is that it's possible that my writing sucks too and I just don't know it. I can be assured by one thing -- I don't think my writing is all that good, and if I was incompetent I would think it was wonderful. So I don't think I'm afflicted by this.

"Incompetent individuals were less able to recognize competence in others," the researchers concluded.

My Space? Are you serious?

At least eight people in the past few months have asked me if I have a My Space page. Seriously, wasn't My Space a thing like 10 years ago, and shouldn't we be over it by now? According to a friend of mine, also a staunch participater in the My Space movement, this is a great way to get to know people. He suggests I add random people we know, but who do not know me. I don't know about that. Sounds sketchy.

So apparently it's a social hotbed for all the "cool" people who attend my church, McLean Bible's Frontline. And if I don't get on it, I'm going to be left in the dust of special society. Should I, or shouldn't I? That is the question.

Where to find me on MySpace

Word of the Day: Vexation

vex·a·tion (vk-sshn) Pronunciation Key
n.
The act of annoying, irritating, or vexing.
The quality or condition of being vexed; annoyance.
A source of irritation or annoyance.

So I'm standing at the grocery store the other day. I have four items. Dutifully, I get in line behind a woman with a cartful of things that she is unloading from her cart. This is the shortest line. I only have four items.

The woman stands and watches as the checker scans her 412 items and waits for him to give her a total. And once he does, she sets her bag on the counter and begins the tedius task of routing around for her CHECKBOOK. After what felt like 15 minutes of her scrawling in the checkbook, she tears out the check, hands it to the cashier, who quickly scans it through and hands back a receipt. Then the woman folds up the receipt, flips through her wallet to the section where she stores receipts, rearranges a few things, then inserts the receipt. I think she's leaving now, finally, so I sort of rudely sidle up to the front with my debit card in hand. But no, she's not done. She's now filling the amount of the purchase into her check register.

I implore you. WHO STILL KEEPS A CHECK REGISTER????

So today, Gene's chat is back after three long weeks on hiatus. I was very happy to see it's return. And even more happy to see a link to a column he did last week regarding the very pain I just described. Gene understands me.

Here's a short excerpt:

My profound impatience about small matters of everyday living is both a curse and an embarrassment. At these times I enter my own personal space, in which I become something that rhymes with "glass bowl." This is my Glass Bowl Mode.

Glass Bowl Mode is wordless but, sadly, not entirely interior and private. I roll my eyes. I fidget. I take long, deep, sighs. That is why, when I finally make it to the front of the line and the anxiety ebbs, I am filled with remorse and self-loathing and become overly cordial to the point of obsequiousness. It is hell being me.

Exactly.

Word of the Day: Laudable

Laud‧a‧ble: Deserving praise; praiseworthy; commendable

We had another extremely successful small group social last night. Over 12 groups were invited to a Spanish Fiesta at Ashley's house. At least 55 people made it out and we had way too much food and... candy. My fault on the candy, but I couldn't help but get a pinata. It was a Fiesta -- what kind of host would I be without providing a pinata. It was shaped like a chili pepper and Ashley smashed it and all the candy against the wall with the handle of a broom. It was well worth the effort.

Next month, being October and one of the best months of the year, we will be having three pumpkin picking socials and "hopefully" a haunted forest social, if someone with less fear than me will agree to host it. I don't know, maybe people don't like haunted things anymore. Maybe as we get older we give up on being scared as something "fun" to do. Next to go -- roller coasters and sledding down extremely steep sheets of ice. Oh and skydiving. Ever since plummeting to what should have been my death from a crop duster 12,000 ft in the air, I have changed my perspective on the activities I do for fun now. Being firmly attached to the ground at all times is a good start. Haunted houses have never really been my thing. "Monsters" with fake blood dripping down their faces and arms protruding from their necks, welding (albeit plastic) butcher knives as they jump from a thicket of trees and scare the night out of me is just no longer fun. I still remember when my dad took my sister and me to a haunted house when I was maybe 5 years old. I'm sure it was the stupidest haunted house ever built, but I was so freaked out we had to leave through a stage door halfway through. I just went geocaching with my parents today and we had this tarantula travel bug that I had wrapped in a plastic bag so I didn't have to look at it. I made my dad take it away. It's been in my possession far too long. You know you're old when... a plastic spider scares you.

Apple Picking!

It's my favorite time of year again... And why I love it so much is based entirely on my obsession with apple picking. I think this stems from my childhood -- I was raised in a house that was completely surrounded by apple orchards (except for the one rogue cherry orchard). The best time of year was September because we could walk 50 yds in any direction and pick a ripe apple or 50 right off the branch. Now, I make the trek up to Poolesville, Maryland, every year to relive the joy I got from this activity as a child.

This year was lovely, but not quite the same with out my friend Dawn there, whom I've gone apple picking with for three years. This year, Brian and Michelle and Eric went with and we came back with some good apples, with which I aspire to make a deliciously apple crisp... if things ever slow down long enough for me to slice the apples and be home long enough to not burn down my condo because I forgot I turned on the oven.

Word of the Day: Aficionado

aficionado: an enthusiastic admirer; a fan.

I have for a long time been an admiring fan of tea. Black tea, green tea, white tea... There's this great place called Teavana that supplies my expensive habit for exceptional loose leaf tea. They have some of the best mixes I've ever tasted -- such as the Jasmin Dragon Phoenix Pearl with Rooibos Tropica and Ginger Peach Apricot. It's been so dreary and gray here the past week, I've been drinking multiple cups a day. Now I hear that store-bought tea bags are going to get fancy. They're finally going to start selling high-quality long leaf tea in nylon mesh bags shaped for a better brew, in place of the left-over crumblings of low-quality tea in paper teabags. I'm excited.

In other news, Walla Walla, Wash., which many of you know is where I grew up, has been named the top place to retire in the U.S. I think their reasoning is a bit faulty, but is there really any place in the world that is perfect for retirement? The Walla Walla area used to be nothing special, but now there are hundreds of wineries, rolling hills of grapes, cute eclectic storefronts and three colleges. The population is only 30,000 and the median 3-bedroom house costs roughly the same as my 700 sq ft one-bedroom condo. I definitely remember a time when it was more podunkville than anything else. But yay for Walla Walla.

Word of the Day: Alfresco

alfresco \al-FRES-koh\, adverb:
1. In the open air; outdoors.

I went on a retreat this weekend with 500 other people pretending to be 10 again at summer camp. It was a very, um, interesting weekend, since the majority of us were over the age of 25, some even approaching the over the hill mark. That did not stop anyone from making complete fools out of themselves. Why is it that packing a backpack full of clothes, going away from home and sleeping in groups of 10 on bunkbeds in cabins makes us feel young again? This camp was unlike any other I've seen. It was a walking, talking liability in every imaginable form. We had to sign fourteen forms releasing the camp of all responsibility before we were able to set foot outside the registration building.

The cabin I stayed in was called Miner's Mountain. This was no ordinary cabin. It was a "luxury" cabin. There was vinyl siding. No hot water, but that's a different story. So we go in to pick our bunks and realize that someone has elected to bring their mother on the trip. Their very out-of-place 70-year-old mother. My first thought: do they really think we need cabin moms at this age? My second thought: Oh, that's so sad. And it really was. This girl was the highest maintenance morning person I have ever encountered. She had to get up 6am just to make it to breakfast at 9am. She took one hour to shower and get dressed, one hour for makeup, one hour for hair. I am not exaggerating. At 8:20am on Sunday morning, after the whole camp had been up until 2:30am the previous night, she bolts out of bed and yells "Girls! Wake up!! Breakfast is over. We missed it." I am a very light sleeper, and had been awake laying in my bed cursing her since she'd gotten up. But now she was frantic because we had all overslept. Only... we hadn't. Breakfast didn't even START until 9am. I, as politely as possible for being woken up on numerous occasions during the night by her incessant snoring, informed her that I would be getting up at 8:45 and I did not need her help in preparing myself for breakfast. She probably rolled her eyes at me. Sure enough, at 8:45 I got in the shower, and I was waiting for breakfast before the doors even opened.

The camp had this big giant thing called a blob that was floating on the edge of a man-made lake. You'd jump off the tower onto the blog then position yourself precariously on the edge and wait for someone to jump down and catapult you off the edge and into the water. Cassie and I enjoyed watching people splat on their faces. There was a zip line that dropped you into the lake near the blog. This afforded great laughter as we saw numerous people lose their shorts upon hitting the water. There was a rock-climbing wall, two water slides, a very large sling-type swing, a thing they call "The Pole" and a ropes course. I'm telling you, it was a liability waiting to happen. Fortunately the only injury was when Greg got pelted in the face by a dodgeball and ended up with a black eye on his birthday. Good times.

Word of the Day: Grandee

grandee:
1. A man of elevated rank or station.

A new study shows that taller people are smarter. And not only are they smarter, they make more money. According to the study, "For both men and women in the United States and the United Kingdom, a height advantage of four inches equated with a 10 percent increase in wages on average."

Average height for women is 5'4". I find this study intriguing because it doesn't seem possible that height could have anything to do with your financial success, unless there was a trend of employers choosing to hire taller people because they appear more responsible and/or capable. However, that doesn't seem to be the case, because the study shows that the advantage begins early in childhood when height isn't necessarily a factor. Even before schooling begins, researchers were able to determine that children who grew up to be taller than average had higher than average test scores pre-school age. Now that's interesting.

Word of the Day: Pluto

As Michelle eloquently put it: Poor Pluto.

All this time, we've been referencing Pluto as the planet farthest from the sun, little cute Pluto out there, holding it all together. But no. Now we learn that Pluto can't even follow the rules. In order to be considered a plant, each must keep an orbit that doesn't disturb it's neighbors, and apparently Pluto has been encroaching on Neptune for quite some time now. It's oblong rotation around the sun, which my coworker pointed out today takes

The funny part is that there is a faction of astronomers in Prague discussing the issue at this very moment and they can't seem to get along.

That plan proved highly unpopular, dividing the group into factions and triggering an acrimonious debate full of angry denunciations that ultimately sunk Pluto.

Can't you just imagine a bunch of hyper scientists fighting tooth and nail to keep Pluto? Just today they decided to no longer consider any of Pluto's three moons for special status -- so now even they've been downgraded and are no longer "moons".

And this leads me to speculate that we really don't know a darn thing about the solar system or the universe. We could be orbitting inside some alien's aquarium in a whole different dimension than we think, and amount to microscopic atomic waste for all we know. Clearly enough to show that our brains are infinitesimal.

Word of the Day: Languor

languor \LANG-guhr; LANG-uhr\, noun:
1. Mental or physical weariness or fatigue.
2. Listless indolence
3. A heaviness or oppressive stillness of the air.

Today's word is highly appropriate. Being a federal employee (if only in appearance) I am one of those poor slobs who has no work for the entire month of August while everyone of importance jets off to the beach or other places of interest (insert Laura's mental wish: Greece, Prague, Ireland). Us low-on-the-totum-pole people stick it out in August because one day we hope to be the jetsetter. That makes for one really long and boring month.

I am trying to be positive though, and so I'm attempting to view the time with optimism instead of last year's pessimism. So here is a short list of the things I was able to do thanks to everyone being on vacation. The day's not over yet, so if the list drags on it's probably because this is the only thing I have to do.

1. I am now a certified expert in the Jon Benet case.
2. I know the minute details regarding every conflict occuring in Israel between AD 120 and the present.
3. Yemen has one of the world's highest birth rates; the average Yemeni woman (life expectancy 59 years) bears seven children.
4. I've read fifteen Washington Post chats this week, including Gene, Dining Out, Real Estate Live, Life at Work, Metro, JonBenet Murder Case (duh!), Tell Me About It, Weekend Now and Travel -- I'll stop there. The rest were boring.
5. Researched travel to Greece and realized I won't be going anywhere soon unless the airlines get nice and slash their prices in half.
6. Did one full lap around CVS and bought a Caramelo to share with co-workers who are equally as sunlight deprived.
7. Watched people run on the mall while pretending I was a tourist on a bench near the National Space Museum.
8. Zzzzzzz

Word of the Day: Befitting

be·fit·ting
Appropriate; suitable; proper.

A few weeks ago I bought a new computer after a long and arduous battle with my old machine, replete with beeping and clicking and system 32 folders that refused to give in to logic. I finally had to let it go the way of all antiquated electronic devices and find a suitable replacement. Which I did, after many months of research. And it arrived last week.

And it was a Dell with not one, but TWO Sony batteries that now, according to news reports, may cause a spontaneous fire in my apartment. Fire Hazard Causes Dell To Recall Laptop Batteries. It appears to be spontaneous combustion, even, not having directly to do with running the computer until it overheats, as one would imagine.

The National Transportation Safety Board last month held a hearing about the safety of lithium batteries on airplanes after a fire occurred Feb. 7 on a cargo jet. The UPS plane, which was carrying lithium-ion batteries, among other items, caught fire in flight and landed safely in Philadelphia.

But don't worry, "Sony said there have been only "a small number" of fires linked to lithium-ion batteries." Good thing, I was starting to get worried.

One more thing before I go -- I was reading the Washington Post today (i.e. EVERY SINGLE LINE in my infinite boredom) and found this article which is amusing, at the least, about how 50 Israeli couples were treated to one big mass free wedding yesterday because they had to call off their weddings during the "war". Seriously. 50 brides in one room.

Each couple was allowed 100 guests. But with wedding-crashers, press and other interlopers there were at least 6,000 people, organizers said. The 50 couples were chosen from more than 300 applicants after the war interrupted the busy summer wedding season.

Word of the Day: Deduction

de·duc·tion n.
The act of deducting; subtraction.
The drawing of a conclusion by reasoning; the act of deducing.
The process of reasoning in which a conclusion follows necessarily from the stated premises; inference by reasoning from the general to the specific.
A conclusion reached by this process.

I opened up my web stats today for my blog as I do every friday to see who's been looking at my blog (or at least to speculate on who has been on my blog). On any given week, somewhere around 120 people view my blog. I can usually tell the main suspects based on location, and that's about all the more indepth the stats go. However, this week I was shocked to see that my numbers have gone up to over 200. That's not an exaggerated leap, I know, but my numbers are always very consistent. So what brought about this change? Was it something profound I might have said? Was it that I'm so witty that word of mouth has spread the good name of my blog all the way to Argentina and Yemen? The frequent Springdale, Arkansas, and College Place, Washington, were still as prevalent, but what's with all the Ohios and Kentuckys and Icelands?

So I clicked on the search terms that led these poor unknowing, and clearly lost, internet surfers to my blog. I should have just gone on thinking that I was prolific. Nope. There's a definite reason.

You thought it was going to be the lottery didn't you?

Wrong.

It was Ricki Ticki Tavi. I'm not kidding. At least a quarter of the hits came from searches for some combination of the phrase Ricki Ticki Tavi. And I blogged about that at least a month ago.

Word of the Day: Sough

sough \SAU; SUHF\, intransitive verb:
1. To make a soft, low sighing or rustling sound, as the wind.

Did you hear that sough? That was me losing the lottery. I tried to win. I bought my $1 worth of tickets and waited anxiously, all the while determining what I would do with my winnings. And when the numbers were revealed, I was highly disappointed to learn that I'd lost.

Why do we spend money on seemingly useless endeavors like playing the lottery? As one winner said, "If you don't play, you can't win". That's true enough. But just how lucky do you have to be to win? A player who wants to win ten dollars in the Tic Tac Toe scratch-off game would have to spend an average of $112. To put these odds in context, suppose one buys one lottery ticket per week. 13,983,816 weeks is roughly 269,000 years; In the quarter-million years of play, one would only expect to win the jackpot once. Luckily, I only spent a dollar.

I buy tickets very infrequently, and usually only after the jackpot has hit a number greatly exceeding anything anyone could ever hope to frivolously spend in a lifetime or two. I do it for the momentary hope that I would not have to return to work the next day or for the rest of my life and could instead travel the world on a private jet. Sure the hope only lasts for as long as it takes them to pick the losing numbers, but isn't it worth one measely dollar? I think so.

Photos from Oregon

Here are the photos of my Oregon trip that I promised yesterday. I have a ton and it was really hard to choose just five. But here is a walking-tour through the state you'll never visit:

First, just try to tell me this isn't the most gorgeous, pristine beach you've ever seen?



The first thing I did when I got there was go to the Tillamook Cheese Factory. I love going here because they make squeaky cheese. I knicknamed it that because it actually squeaks on your teeth when you chew it. They also make my favorite ice cream of all times "Oregon Strawberry". Not usually a fan of strawberry, but this is the best ice cream you've ever tasted.







One thing about the west coast, you don't go playing in the water like you would on the east coast. The water is literally frigid. It was 45.7 degrees the day we went in it. Every so often, my sister and I get daring and we get in, slowly going numb, until we can stand to let the waves wash over us. We're insane.



And finally -- if you weren't convinced of its beauty to this point, you must concede this is the most amazing beach photo you've ever seen.

Word of the Day: Littoral

littoral \LIH-tuh-rul\, adjective:
1. Of, relating to, or on a coastal or shore region, especially a seashore

Since I haven't posted since the 18th (gasp) I figured I better get on it so I don't disappoint the peanut gallery. And just where have I been? Well, if it's possible to make one week stretch out into eternity, that happened last week. I was at work on Monday, but then in a flash I was in Pittsburgh with a dear friend and after some minor finagling, I was able to still go to Oregon on Thursday morning to visit my family for a few days on the coast -- hence the word of the day.

For anyone who has not been to the West coast, you are seriously missing out. I mean, it's so awesome there, so much better everything than the east coast. You think your coast out here is so great -- Cape Cod! Ha. It's a joke compared to Seaside. I'm not kidding. The Oregon Coast is one of the most beautiful resources the Unites States owns and yet it's so ignored. Public service announcement #459: If you haven't been to the Oregon coast, get your head out of the sand and go there. You won't regret it. I'll post some photos tomorrow so you can see that I'm not lying.

The water in the ocean there is 45 degrees right now. Wouldn't that feel good today, in this 100-degree weather? Tomorrow is supposed to reach 100 degrees, which brings the heat index up to 110 degrees. That's out of control. I've been to Tucson in hotter weather than that, but they don't have humidity there. How does one survive outside in 110 humidity? I feel really bad for the workers who are constructing a building next door to mine. I hope they bring enough water. That job must be one of the worst of all times. Working in snow and humidity. No thank you. I think I'll stick with my job for now.

Word of the Day: Quandary

quandary \KWAHN-duh-ree; -dree\, noun:
A state of difficulty, perplexity, doubt, or uncertainty.

For years I've heard people complain about jury duty. They've said that it's a impediment to their daily life, that it takes up too much time, it's boring, it's annoying, etc. So when I received my first jury duty summons in the mail a few weeks ago, I was justifiably irritated. Nevermind the fact that I'm 28 and have never been summoned to perform my civic duty of judging other people, how could they waste my time with this useless jury duty!

The summons states that I must call everyday after 4pm to see if I will be called to duty the following day. It is now Tuesday and I have called for Wednesday and still I have not been asked to report for duty. Apparently there are no criminals needing a group of their peers to condemn them of their wrongdoings (look I've just been eliminated as a possible juror anyway!). There have been no trials this week.

So I worked all weekend on G8 stuff and didn't have a single moment of non-working time in 11 days straight and I'm sorry but I WANT to go to jury duty if only to get out of work for a single blessed day. So why won't they call me? Where is all the annoying, time-consuming horribly boring jury duty that everyone complains about? If anything, I'd like to complain that they aren't calling me! I would argue that there should be a hotline for people to call when they WANT to do jury duty. Fine, some of you don't. That's your choice. But I do. And I don't think it's fair that they gave me false hope that I would be called. There's always hope for Thursday or Friday, but I hold no faith in the court system at this point.

What does a person have to do to get a day off around here?

Word of the Day: Viral

viral

adj : relating to or caused by a virus; "viral infection"

No, I don't have a virus.

I was basically held at gunpoint this afternoon until I assured my friend Brian that I would blog about a project he's involved in at work. Here is the conversation we had taken directly from the chat window.

Brian: i'm pretty proud of myself
if you wanna help viral me a bit with your blog that would be moy bueno
me: sure I can do that
Brian: thanks doc
word of the day = viral
me: hah
okay, you ordered it

The project is basically a Solar Car Race Team from Houston. The company Brian works for, Schott, donated the solar panels to the school so they could build the Sundancer, the car they plan to race in the Dell-Winston Solar Car Race in Dallas, TX. Brian set up this blog for the students so they could track their experience and update fans who are checking on their progress. He thought I was being sarcastic when I said I thought it was cool, but it actually is. I wanted to build a solar car when I was in high school, but instead we just got to read about it. So these kids are pretty lucky to be involved in something like this.

What I'm wondering though is why I don't get this excited about any of my work projects. Of course, I don't work somewhere that invokes excitement. And I *was* excited to go to Russia for the G8, but that didn't work out because they thwart fun. I guess converting websites isn't exactly thrilling work so I should just be glad that I work with really wonderful people who I don't mind spending 40 hrs a week with. But I would really like to be doing something that I could get excited about.

So back to the word of the day. Why did Brian want the word to be viral. He doesn't have a virus either. He's in marketing and he wants his advertising of this program to be infectious. Perhaps I should have used the word "infectious" because that better explains what I'm talking about here. How many people in the world have a job that is a happy form of infectious? I wish I had one.

Wedding Photo

The weekend provided the best weather imaginably for the wedding of my good friend Rebecca (now) Cline. It was held out in Warrenton at the Black Horse Inn, a bed and breakfast in the countryside with horses and a beautiful landscape that included an old farm house where we all stayed and a reception hall.

Everything turned out lovely and I have very fond memories of the event. Rebecca and Toss are currently traipsing around San Francisco, soon to be on a cruise to Hawaii. I am jealous.


(Photo taken by the wonderful Mr. Reed)

Word of the Day: Junking

I can't believe I haven't discussed this topic yet on my blog. And I thought I was running out of things to say... Nothing is complete until this topic is discussed in full. It's called Junking.

I'm patiently awaiting the day when the word "junking" makes it into the dictionary. It will. Oh it will. It is slowly taking hold as more and more spam enters our inboxes and forces us to construct methods of ridding ourselves of this unwanted mail. I have rules set up on my work mail that automatically sends things from specifically people straight to the junk mail folder. This way I don't even have to see them, much less take the time required to click on them and move them manually to the junk folder. When people ask me if I've read these specific emails, I just say "Oh, no, I junked him." I junk everything labeled "broadcast", anything with the terms "technical", "help desk" and anything sent from another country that isn't specifically addressed to me (we get a lot of random embassy mail).

Inbox is not in the dictionary. They had time to add the word "supersize" but have not gotten around to inbox? They just added the words "google" and "unibrow" to the dictionary. Incidentally the word "biodiesel" has also been added. I'm not even sure what that is.

Nothing to Say

Alright, I'll admit it, I have nothing to say. In fact, I haven't had anything to say in almost a week now. I think that officially means that I have writer's block, despite the fact that most people don't think that's a real ailment. Try being a writer for a week without anything to say. It's devastating.

I mean, I could write about the sequel to Pirates of the Caribbean, which I've been waiting many months for -- it's finally coming out on Saturday.

Or I could write about the wedding I'm going to be in on Saturday that prevents me from seeing the above mentioned movie (for a VERY good cause! Cheers to Rebecca and Toss).

Or I could post some photos of the Fourth of July party I went to on Tuesday at my friend Mo's house, but my camera dock is broken so the photos are helplessly trapped.

I could post some random facts about Oregon I found out just now -- it's the 28th most populated state in the U.S. and the 9th biggest. They make the best cheese at Tillamook. If you ever go there, ask for the squeaky cheese -- oh, and the Oregon Strawberry ice cream! Did you know that the state drink is milk? Who even knew that a state had a "drink"? Too bad I'm allergic to it.

I don't really want to write about any of those things though, so I won't. We'll just go on like this with nothing new to update my blog with until I get a life or a divine inspiration floods my brain. Until then...

Word of the Day: Anamnesis

an·am·ne·sis (nm-nss)
n. pl. an·am·ne·ses (-sz)

A recalling to memory; recollection.

I'm listening to my headphones at work and the theme song for Beetle Juice is playing. Oh how I used to love that movie. It's been years since I've seen it, but I used to watch it all the time and I knew just about every line in it, and the words to all the songs. It was really a brilliant movie. I do have to wonder what I would think of the movie if I watched it today. I do remember it being rather cheesy. Of course, it was released in 1988, so by the standards of that day for movies, plus the fact that I was only 11 years old, I can only assume it's actually a really stupid movie.

Other movies I watched often and loved as a child include Oh God, Part 2. Specifically Part 2. I'm not sure why. But my sister and I even tape recorded the dialogue of this film and listened to it over and over without the visual. We must have been really bored as children.

And the best of all... Ricky Ticky Tavy. We liked this movie so much that we even named our cat after the little mongoose in the show. We called her Tavy, because she used to stand up on her back legs a lot like Ricky Ticky Tavy did. Is it strange that I can't find any real reference to this on Google? I mean, it was a famous book written in the late 1800s. Shouldn't there be more evidence of its existence? I'm trying to find a photo.

UPDATE:

Thanks to the genius of Peggy, I was able to find this one photo of Ricki Ticki Tavy from Amazon.
(Amazon photo)
He looks like a chipmonk in this photo though.

And I thought of another film that if I was in my right mind yesterday I should never have forgotten to add to the list. Bed Knobs and Broomsticks! How many times did we rub the knobs on our beds hoping we could get the bed to fly like a magic carpet! Did anybody else do this?

Question of the Day: What were they thinking?

Today is TYDTWDay. What does that mean? It means Take Your Dog to Work Day. Do I need to repeat that, did you see that? Take your dog to work? What in the world was someone thinking when they created this insanity? I think it's bad enough that people are allowed to bring their cell phones to work, and wear annoying flip flops. But the day someone brings a freaking dog in here is the day that I lose my sanity and quit.

I heard about TYDTWD from my coworker who apparently owns numerous dogs. I don't know this because he's told me, but because his clothes have enough dog hair on them to create a whole new pet (no, not you CP). I just overheard him say that we should have all brought our pets to work today and that got me worked up enough to write a blog entry about it, so you can probably guess how fond I am of dogs (and pets in general). So I looked up the website for TYDTWD to see what possible good could come out of bringing your stupid, slobbery pet to work and here is what they claim: (WARNING: GROSS SENTIMENTALITY FOLLOWS)

This annual event, now in its eighth year, brings people and pets together in a special way on a special day. Dogs go to work. Hearts are touched.

Hearts are touched? Are you serious? What about "Dogs go to work. Eyes water" or "Dogs go to work. People sneeze." Hello. We don't all care about your ugly little dog. And don't even think about bringing your pet rat or snake. There are already enough fake, stuffed cats in my cube to keep me annoyed for years.

Word of the Day:

Yes, the word is blank (nothing). How many people contacted me this week regarding the fact that my blog was broadcasting white space for a full 5 days? Probably every person who reads my blog regularly, which is really only a handful of people. So to everyone who cares, I am alive and well. The blog police did not remove my blog due to some sordid scandal. And I have not decided to shut out the world and move to Belize. So everyone can rest easy now. And to all of you who didn't contact me to ask why my blog was no longer viewable online -- well you are all on the "list" now because clearly you don't care about me. ;)

Okay, more later, just wanted to clear that up.

Word of the Day: Indefatigable

in·de·fat·i·ga·ble
adj.
Incapable or seemingly incapable of being fatigued; tireless.

This weekend I managed to surprise even myself with how much I was capable of doing in two short days. Today I'm feeling a little like a ragdoll with sore feet, a little like Monday, not Saturday, is a day of rest, and a little like an energizer battery that doesn't really keep on going.

Saturday I managed to perform every last task I had for work because it was my turn at weekend duty (again!) and still pulled off the bridal tea of the century, complete with perfect little scones and tarts and strawberries. I did somewhat get accosted in primetime regarding my last name, but I'm trying to forget that embarrassing part of the event.

I am also happy to report that suburbia actually does have good mini-golf courses, and directly across the street was a local ice cream place with Oreo soft-serv and a line that practically extended into the highway. We trekked all the way out to Manassas (I'll spare you Kim's version of the city name -- which ends in "hole" if you care to venture a guess). Met some really nice people, made some new friends, and proved without a doubt that I am the worst mini-golfer in history.

Sunday, Kim and I hung out in a park in Pentagon City for a couple of hours before our BBQ to hold the table, thinking everyone would want to grill outside for Father's Day, but that didn't happen to be the case. In fact, no one was there due in part to the fact that it was nearly 95 degrees outside and what fools would subject themselves to that kind of heat unless absolutely necessary. However, about 18 people showed up and we stayed for 4.5 hours, so it was clearly a success.

Word of the Day: Tea

Today I'm hosting a bridal tea for my dear friend Rebecca. The tea is my version of a "shower" -- a word which I and many other women my age have come to despise because of the sheer number of them we've been invited to. Thus when, as the Maid of Honor, I was put in the position to host one, I went with the tea.

This isn't just an ordinary tea either. I never do anything halfway. If it can't be done properly, I'd rather not do it at all. I've made scones, strawberry cream puffs, blueberry cream tarts, and lamingtons (which are bite-sized pieces of cake covering in chocolate and coconut). Angela is bringing heart-shaped sugar cookies and cucumber sandwiches and Timoni is bringing salmon and crackers. The tea selection is equally as expansive. I have three kinds of hot tea and three kinds of iced tea, including the famous Prickly Pear tea I brought back from Arizona.

But, the best part about the tea is that I finally get to tell Rebecca a very funny story that I've been keeping from her for a few weeks. I had her fiancee meet me a few weeks ago at a shopping center by her house so I could video tape him for a game we'll be playing at the tea. He had to tell her a little white lie to get there without her knowing, which was that he was going to swing by the post office on the way home (they were in two cars and both headed home). If that was really what he was doing, it would take him approximately 5 minutes extra.

On my way to meet him, I nearly wrecked my car in to the median when a spider walked across the driver's side door right by my arm. My dad once warned me that if I didn't get over my fear of spiders I would one day wreck my car because of it. I didn't wreck, but I did freak out. I tried to kill it, but of course it fell to my feet instead. The rest of the drive I prayed "Please don't let it crawl on me, please don't let it crawl on me". When I arrived, Toss was standing there. I got out like a crazy woman flailing my arms and doing the Jerry MaGuire dance ("I'm not going to do what you all think I'm going to do, which is just FREAK OUT!"). Of course, I couldn't get back in the car until the spider was confirmed dead, so Toss chased the thing around the floorboard until it was dead.

Needless to say, we weren't done with the taping in five minutes. So we had to create a story to tell Rebecca that was believeable. We decided the best option was to tell her that some crazy woman was freaking out about a spider in her car and he had to be a gentleman and kill it for her. Not only did she believe the story, she actually told it to me a week later when we were having our dresses fitted. So now I'm especially excited to tell her that the crazy woman was actually me.

Word of the Day: Updates

So clearly it's been a while since I've updated. My only excuse is that I don't have anything to say. I know -- gasp -- a writer with nothing to say!! Well, face it, I'm only human.

Work is extra busy, I'm hosting two parties this weekend and my biggest complaint is that it appears the Counting Crows have stopped producing new material all together. They haven't had an album out since I last went to Klamath Falls for Thanksgiving, which was at least 4 years ago. Get with it, people!

I'm growing cucumbers and basil on my balcony. What good is a balcony if you can't grow plants in the summer? Last year I *attempted* to grow tomatoes and cucumbers. Steve graciously brought me a tomato plant all the way to work from the Takoma Park farmers market and then I went on vacation, neglecting the poor thing, and when I got back they were both scorched to death. That must be an unpleasant way to go -- wasting in the summer sun while your once loving owner ignores you. I did promise myself I would never subject a plant to my lack of responsibility again, so either I've grown up and think I can handle taking care of something other than myself, or I've lied to myself and the plants will suffer for it. So far, I'm happy to report that they are doing well. I even planted them from seed. The cucumbers are now almost 5 inches tall and the basil is soon going to garnish one of the best sandwiches ever made.

For anyone who's keeping track, the building next door is up to floor 11! Yikes. They are moving along with that project. I will start posting photos now of the progress, because it's pretty interesting. And soon the madness of them hammering at 7am will be a figment of my memory. Safely locked away.

Word of the Day: Mawkish

mawk·ish ( P ) Pronunciation Key (môksh)
adj.
Excessively and objectionably sentimental.
Sickening or insipid in taste.

I won't get all sentimental right now because it's still 3 months away, but my good and most worthy friend Todd Bullock, known to some of you as Tofu Todd, and still others as The Rancid Goat, has just today been posted with the foreign service to Afghanistan. He will leave in September and I will miss him dearly. I do hope that The Rancid Goat returns with Tales from Over There, or something similar. If you only knew the sort of messes the Rancid Goat gets himself into...

Just this weekend Todd and I found ourselves trapped in the most pretentious club in all of D.C. The place was crawling with metrosexuals, Euro-trash and way too many bums and boobs about to precariously unveil themselves. While waiting in line to get in, three nice looking gentlemen sidled up to a group of single women, just so they could get in. Apprently there were too many men inside. "This is my kinda place," I said to Todd. However, it took approximately three seconds to realize it was neither my kind of place nor my kind of people who were in there.

We hung around for exactly 45 excrutiatingly long minutes before bailing for the comforts of a less artificial environment. Clydes, with its regular drinks, calm atmosphere and sports playing on mute above the bar, suited us much better than the bizarre alter-world we'd stepped into earlier. Just where do these people come from? They aren't all that attractive (this isn't NYC, after all) and why does a bottle of Grey Goose cost $200??

Anyway, this story just illustrates why Todd is a good friend that I will miss greatly. I can, at the last minute, drag him to a place neither of us will like, and he will still stick around for Clyde's.

Todd. You rock.

Word of the Day: Vexatious

vex·a·tious ( P ) Pronunciation Key (vk-sshs)
adj.
Causing or creating vexation; annoying.
Full of annoyance or distress; harassed.
Intended to vex or annoy.

You know those kind of flip flops people wear that make incredible noise when you walk -- thunk, thunk, thunk?

An earlier conversation with coworker:

Ali: Are those your flip-flops I keep hearing?

Me: Even you suggesting that hurts me violently. I am about ready to go chop off that woman's feet. If she doesn't stop walking around in those things, I'm going to have to quit.

What is wrong with society that we must wear shoes that clearly serve no purpose but to annoy the hell out of coworkers as you thunk thunk thunk down the hall, back and forth, in and out of the kitchen, to the bathroom, to the printer, back to your desk. Lady, you're HURTING me!

This post on a blog I found has exactly the comments I want to make about flip flops, except if I posted all my complaints about them on here, you'd probably all stop reading because you'd think I was a lunatic. (P.S. I'm only crazy when it comes to strange and annoying office noises.) Here's my favorite comment:

Flip flops are hell for me. You know that *thing* that just drives you up the wall for no discernable reason and makes you want to rip off heads and scream and you have to look at pictures of cute baby animals until you calm down? Yep, that’s flip flops for me. Both the thwap-thwap when they pick up their feet and the skoosh-skoosh when they don’t. Aiee.

Addition: Perfect, the Washington Post doesn't like flip flops either!

Flip-flop defenders like to point to how comfortable they are. You know what? So are pajamas. And bathrobes. But you don't see your co-workers rolling up to the office in tank tops and flannel pants, do you?

Hot!

It's predicted to be 92 degrees today. That's fabulous. Don't get me wrong. I love warm weather. However, with weather changes comes the inevitable days worth of suffering in this office because whoever runs the temperature is incompetent.

Right now it is 80 degrees outside. But it is 82 degrees in the building. How does this occur? Do they get kicks out of turning up the heat just before the poor workers come back from the long weekend? "Burn um out!" Or is it the bosses making this decision? "We can't fire them, so we'll just make them sweat a little."

My coworker was locked out of her storage shed over the weekend and couldn't get her summer clothes out so she is currently wearing long sleeves and heavy wool pants. At least I'm not her. Darn it's hot.

Word of the Day: Abandoned

So here it is, the Friday before Memorial Day weekend and I am the only -- yes, the only -- person still in the office. My coworkers mostly all took the day off. That's fine. Except, they let us out early today, as the goverment sometimes does, and because my lovely coworkers are not here to do their jobs, I must stay and do their jobs for them before I can leave. Now when they said they were taking the day off, I didn't know this would keep me from taking part in the early release. Now I'm bummed.

It's quiet in here. And I'm a little scared. Deserted cubes and empty office air is a little worrisome to me. Who knows what could happen in an office when you're alone. All the lights might shut off soon, actually, because they are on a sensor and the only thing in the room that is moving is my fingers on the keyboard.

Oh how I despise the Photo of the Day.

To keep myself busy in the deserted realm of my pitiful existence in this office, I am looking up old Top Ten lists. Here's a good one for the weekend.

Top Ten Signs A Guest At Your Memorial Day Barbecue Is A Spy

10. He introduces himself as "00-Larry."

9. Keeps whispering into the potato salad.

8. Embarrassing slip up -- refers to A-1 Sauce as "The B-1 Bomber."

7. Seems oddly knowledgeable about who wants a burger and who wants a hot dog.

6. Kid who beats him in sack race sent to Siberian prison.

5. Asks if the hibachi has a gyroscopic laser guidance system.

4. Wears an apron which reads, "Kiss the spy."

3. You ask him how he likes his burger -- he bites down on a cyanide tablet.

2. After a couple drinks starts telling you nuclear launch codes.

1. He seems awfully interested in the Titan missiles you keep in the shed.

Word of the Day: Apocryphal

a·poc·ry·phal
Of questionable authorship or authenticity.
Erroneous; fictitious
Apocryphal Bible. Of or having to do with the Apocrypha.

Get this. A man is suing the Catholic Church for proof that Jesus existed.

I'm not kidding. It's on CNN.

He says the church is doing a lot of harm by continuing to profess that the man they build their credibility on is in fact not all that credible. He argues that all the historical proof of Jesus is not exactly "historical" but is merely fictional representations used to write a book, The Bible. He calls it a "con" and an abuse of the public's faith, the claim that Jesus ever existed. He calls Jesus a fictional "character", a mythical figure used to tell parables.

Use some common sense, man! Are you saying that Jesus is Coyote??

He sued a priest because he couldn't sue the Pope. The case was then stopped because the prosecutor said there was no evidence to take the process farther because there was no way to confirm or confute the claim that Jesus was who the church professes he is. The church claims there is evidence in the gospels and in Greek and Jewish histories. But this man claims that the gospels cannot prove Jesus.

Okay, I tend to agree with him that the Bible cannot prove the Bible. Many times the church uses this sort of circular reasoning. But it seems to me there are enough historical accounts of Jesus outside of church documents, including the sarcophogus of James, Jesus' brother, which states "James, brother of Jesus" on the side in script.

But let's assume Jesus was not real, that he was indeed a mythical figure. Darn. Millions and millions of people are going to feel pretty stupid upon death when they find this out for themselves. The thing is, I'd rather spend a lifetime believing in a fairytale then an eternity burning in hell.

An Ode to Elliot

Elliot...

This cool guy came to visit last week after spending the past year in the Israeli Army, which he enlisted himself into voluntarily in 2004. Why? I like to think he got bored of his job or he hated his friends or something (impossible seeing as we *are* his friends) ... but I think he just wanted to do something good with himself.

Maybe I should give Elliot a code name so I don't give away his identity in cyberspace. Only problem is I can't think of a good enough name. Michelle and I went to New York City in 2003 with Elliot to crash a party his friends were throwing. We had the best time and coincidentally came up with a title for a very interesting book "A British Guy on the Jersey Turnpike". And believe me, you don't ever want to come across one of those. Scary.

So anyway, that's the whole story. I told him I was going to take this photo and he wasn't all that happy about it, but this is why I took your picture, Elliot. We must preserve the memories. Just forget about that last shot we made you do. Big mistake. I hope you don't hate us.

Word of the Day: Conflate

conflate \kuhn-FLAYT\, transitive verb:
1. To bring together; to fuse together; to join or meld.
2. To combine into one whole.

This weekend was so much fun. In order to illustrate, I must use photos. So welcome to my weekend slideshow:

First was Barb's Big Backyard BBQ: Barb is my awesome coworker. We all drove down to Fredericksburg to her amazing dream home that they built. It's gorgeous. The best part about the BBQ, aside from the yummy food and the good company, was that Michelle, Dida and I were together again.



And the bad part about Barb's party was the traffic. It took approximately 45 minutes to get there, and about 2.5 hours to get back. Therefore, I was a bit, okay a lot, late for Lindsey's birthday party. I don't have a photo of this stop. We went to her house for a bit and then out to Eleventh in Arlington (which I love) but I had a hard time loving it this time due to a HUGE headache that refused to go away.

And that brings us to Sunday. We had an awesome social with the best group of guys, our good friends, the Apples group. Why do we call them the Apples group? It has something to do with a game we played once. Anyway, I was asked how I met this group and it occured to me that it would make a good book. The first line would be "It all started on a boat on the Sea of Galilee." However it began, the Apples group is great fun. The BBQ was fabulous. The weather was perfect (mostly because we *thought* it would rain and it didn't). The company was great. And best of all, there was a bag and a half of charcoal leftover so I guess that means there are more BBQs in our future.

SCREEN ON THE GREEN

Screen on the Green starts July 17!!! Who's coming with me?

Word of the Day: Cliche

cli·ché also cliche ( P ) Pronunciation Key (kl-sh)
n.
A trite or overused expression or idea
A person or character whose behavior is predictable or superficial

Yesterday I skipped work to attend the Writer's Digest Writer's Conference in conjuction with the Book Expo of America. I was thrilled that Jerry B. Jenkins was there as the keynote speaker. He had a lot of insightful things to say, and a little bit of encouragement to the hopefuls in the audience. I don't know what I was expecting really -- possibly just some motivation and encouragement. I did come away with some of that, although most of the stuff I learned I already knew. I know that being a writer of anything these days means that you're going to have to wait through numerous rejections before getting published, if you ever do. I know that even when you do, oftentimes the product is not exactly what you expected. But I also know that to not write is not a choice for many writers. Me included. If I did not write, I would not be me. It's how I define myself and how I share myself with the world. Some people are able to express themselves to other people through discussion, and others express themselves through art, like painting and drawing and acting. To not put words on paper is like suffocating me with a heavy hand.

The only really crazy part was the lunch speaker who claimed that no one has original thoughts and we are actually making ourselves stupider by succumbing to what he calls "dimwitticisms". These dimwitticisms are colloquial and cliched andm etaphorical phrases that we say just by force of habit, such as "a dime a dozen" "piece of cake" "just in the knick of time" etc. The guy rattled off a hundred phrases we use everyday, and though they are undoubtedly overused and somewhat dim, there is no possible way to write and/or speak without using one. Try it. It's impossible. In any case (another dimwitticism) it would be just as vexing to try to speak without them as it is to use them repeatedly. Consider this sentence: The conference ran like clockwork, on the other hand, there was a heated debate over metaphors. If I were trying to avoid these dimwitticisms and replace them with original thoughts so I don't force my reader to become stupider, the sentence would have to look something like this: The conference was successful in that there were no problems and each activity pleased the attendees. Several conference attendees quarrelled about the overuse and/or misuse of specific phrases that make use of another object as a similar comparison for the original thought. Wouldn't you much prefer I just say it rather than muck it all up like that?

One thing I learned is that having a blog is quite beneficial to your eventual writing career so at least I have a headstart on that.

Hawaii

I realized that I never mentioned Hawaii on the blog when I got back except to say that life had gone completely back to normal the second I stepped off the plane. Ignoring the subject on my blog is a little like ignoring my wet and dirty shoes that were sufficiently wrapped in a plastic bag. I just discovered the bag yesterday and the shoes, I discovered, were encased in mold. Nothing a tumble in the washer can't fix. So I figure if I at least post some photos on my blog, it'll be a little like ridding the shoes of mold.



Michelle and I sat underneath this palm tree contemplating how much better life in Hawaii is than life in Washington DC. I could come up with a full list of reasons, but most of you already know them. So I'll spare you. Needless to say, one of the reasons is this very palm tree. And another is this:


The World's Best Mai Tai.

Word of the Day: Cotton

Oh how I wish I were laying between my lovely cotton sheets right now sleeping blissfully. Getting out of bed at 8am this morning was *not* a good idea.

But my comfy bed not what this entry is about, sadly. It's about cotton. Not the noun, but the verb. Who knew cotton could be used as a verb? Timoni pointed this out to me this morning and I feel it is important enough to tell the world about. You may have been living your life all this time without knowing you could use the word cotton as a verb in your vocabularly, thus severly limiting the amount of things you *could* be saying if you adopted it's use. So here is how you can add the cotton to your lexicon.

intr.v. cot·toned, cot·ton·ing, cot·tons

To take a liking; attempt to be friendly: a dog that didn't cotton to strangers; an administration that will cotton up to the most repressive of regimes.

To come to understand. Often used with to or onto: “The German bosses... never cottoned to such changes”

From now on, you can say things like "I cotton you" instead of the bland and overused "I like you".

"I cottoned him, he started to cotton me back" to show your compassionate attempt at friendship towards another.

The possibilities are endless that you'll start cottoning the word and will begin using it with frequency.

Word of the Day: Crapulous

crapulous \KRAP-yuh-lus\, adjective:
1. Suffering the effects of, or derived from, or suggestive of gross intemperance, especially in drinking; as, a crapulous stomach.
2. Marked by gross intemperance, especially in drinking; as, a crapulous old reprobate

I've left the sunshine, the white sandy beaches and the fruity drinks of Hawaii in exchange for the life I've, for some unknown reason, opted to build for myself in Washington, D.C. I contemplated staying in Hawaii. I've designed a plan which would allow me to live in Hawaii year-round and generate enough cash to basically buy my own island if I chose to do so. My only hang-up with the plan is that it would require me to work early morning hours, and we all know that I'm incapable of doing that. Judging by the fact that I've missed the bus two mornings in a row, I don't see being able to pull off this plan of mine. But perhaps when I live in Hawaii I won't care what time of the morning I have to get up. Because I… live in… Hawaii. ALOHA!

Last night was another David Shelby ATM party. This one was a rager. I'm surprised that half of the participants are even alive today, much less at work. A bottle of expensive tequila was given to Tofu Todd as a parting gift and it was summarily drained within half an hour. I was not "crapulous" last night, but so many were that I feel it's necessary to use the word because it's just so fitting. I particularly enjoy the "gross intemperance" part because that's the whole crux of the ATM (Anti-Temperance Monday). But drinking six tequila shots after work on Monday when you've had no dinner and must attend work the next day is probably a pretty crapulous thing to do.

Hawaii: The runon sentence

Consider this notice of the fact that I will not be around to update the blog beginning Saturday morning and continuing through the following Sunday due to the fact that I will be vacationing in the sun on the white sandy beaches of Hawaii for an entire week, completely and utterly devoid of a schedule or any other form of mundane and useless work and I won't feel bad about it at all, not even a little bit, not even when I think of you back here working at your desk hour after hour, bored out of your mind, wishing you could be on the white sandy beaches of Hawaii when instead you have ample time to update your own blog and probably no remaining vacation days because you already wasted them on useless "pretend sick days" and therefore can't leave your little comfortable desk chair for approximately nine more months while you earn what few days you can in order to take just half a week's vacation, which you'll probably spend doing something like moving to a new apartment, which might as well be work anyway, and I probably won't bring you back anything from Hawaii either because I'm too poor now that I took a week off and paid for the airfare and the hotel, so don't expect any big jars of macadamia nuts or Kona Coffee because if I give you anything al all it'll probably be a really big picture of me vacationing in the sun on the white sandy beaches of Hawaii without you.

Aloha!

Word of the Day: Agog

agog \uh-GOG\, adjective:
Full of excitement or interest; in eager desire; eager, keen.

I am so excited! Tonight the coolest thing happened. I was at church with Cassie and just before the service was done, out comes Mercy Me, one of my favorite Christian bands. Now for those of you who know me, you are well aware that I listen to more Christian music than secular and though I can tell you all about Jack Johnson and O.A.R., I can, and probably will, recite all the words to every Switchfoot song, and I can tell you the names of all the tracks to every Jars of Clay song ever written (on seven albums, which I can also name and date). Mercy Me has been a favorite of mine for five years when I first hear their song I Can Only Imagine. So when they show up unannounced at church, YOU can only imagine my excitement.


Apparently they were just "stopping by" on their way to the airport for a flight to New York. They are promoting their new album Coming Up to Breathe, which isn't out in stores until Tuesday. But lucky us, they were selling copies for $5!!! And not only that, but after we picked up our $5 CDs the entire band was standing RIGHT THERE with pens and they all signed our CDs. Now I not only have the CD before it's even in stores for 1/3 of the price, it's just become priceless. Mercy Me can stopping looking -- they've just met their biggest fan.

Word of the Day: Specious

specious \SPEE-shuhs\, adjective:
1. Apparently right; superficially fair, just, or correct, but not so in reality; as, "specious reasoning; a specious argument."

This word seems to sum up what occured here on Friday night. It was right and fair and just and correct that Tofu Todd or I were to win the game of Seafarers. However, the victory was apparently specious in that it wasn't attained in reality.

In reality, Timoni won the game. And not only did she win, she slaughtered us. Todd had 4 points. I had 5. We are clearly not as good at alliances as we once assumed. In the future we need to create a whole new game plan or else we will have to do some serious cheating. That win was ours! It was. Just not in reality.

Word of the Day: Domination

dom·i·na·tion ( P ) Pronunciation Key (dm-nshn)
n.
Control or power over another or others.
The exercise of such control or power.

You know I can't think of anything to blog about when I start rambling on about world domination based on a board game, but tonight is going to be a feat of total world domination never seen or heard of before. I dare say Tofu Todd and I are on track for taking over the entire civilized world in what can only be classified as a masterpiece of strategy and allure. Settlers of Catan (or more specifically Seafarers of Catan), is one of my favorite games of all times and some of my favorite people of all times will be coming over this evening to embark in a friendly game or two.

I'll report back on the outcome, but you can bet it will begin with the glorious victory of either Tofu Todd or the Empress (me).

Word of the Day: Allergies

al·ler·gy ( P ) Pronunciation Key (lr-j)
n. pl. al·ler·gies
An abnormally high sensitivity to certain substances, such as pollens, foods, or microorganisms. Common indications of allergy may include sneezing, itching, and skin rashes.

The allergy season is especially bad this season, if you couldn't tell by the itching eyes, sneezing and basic irritation of everyone around you. You're well aware if you've spent any time with me in the past few weeks. According to ABC News:

April is the cruelest month — just ask any seasonal allergy sufferer. But this April is especially pitiless, since a mild, wet winter in many parts of the country caused an early start to what has become a record-setting allergy season.

They listed ten of the worst cities and not surprisingly Washington, D.C. is right up there. I personally suffer from tree pollens (which are causing the misery this week) but even worse for me is the grass pollen, and those don't come out until June.

Here is a cool interactive map of the U.S. with highlighted pollen counts. Good luck out there.

Word of the Day: Consistent

con·sis·tent ( P ) Pronunciation Key (kn-sstnt)
adj.
Reliable; steady: demonstrated a consistent ability to impress the critics.

This is my 150th post. I feel a great sense of accomplishment. The best part about this blog is that I can go back into the catalog of my life and pull out little snippets of things that happened for reference. It's practically indispensible.

This weekend was Easter. I spent it with my dear friend Kim in Elizabeth, Pennsylvania. We cooked and ate, and ate and cooked and had the best time two friends could have. I made it to Season 2, Episode 17 of Lost, so I'm almost caught up. And that crazy ending with Hurley is just TOO much. And on the way back I got to test out the racing ability of my car, which is way too fun. I don't think I dropped below 80 the whole way. I love how no one drives in the right lane when it opens up to three lanes (for trucks). I'd get over there in the right lane and buzz by all kinds of slowpokes. Is "slowpoke" a bad word?

For anyone who cares, it is currently 57 degrees OUTSIDE and 79 degrees (and rapidly rising) INSIDE. Oh how I love my office.

Yesterday was a really bad bus day for me. Nevermind the fact that I was evaded by three buses and ended up 20 minutes late for work. On my way home I was reading a magazine and was, I can only imagine, totally engrossed in it, because when I finally looked up we were WAY past my stop. Like four stops and a mile past my stop. I had to walk all the way home. Here's to hoping today is better.

Word of the Day: Incorrigible

in·cor·ri·gi·ble ( P ) Pronunciation Key (n-kôr-j-bl, -kr-)
adj.
Incapable of being corrected or reformed: an incorrigible criminal.
Firmly rooted; ineradicable: incorrigible faults.
Difficult or impossible to control or manage: an incorrigible, spoiled child.

Some of you may remember a little episode I had a while back with the office temperature lady. (What would be the title of a person who controls the temperature?) Back in December the office was so cold, we had to wear three coats, a scarf and gloves just to stay warm. It was anywhere between 67 and 70 degrees on a daily basis, which often led to us complaining incessantly about frostbite and hypothermia. Finally, one day I broke down and called the temperature lady.

Flash forward to April 13, 2006... I enter the building. I ride the elevator, walk down the hall... it's all quite pleasant. Until I set foot into the office in which I work and around me settles air so stiflingly warm that I almost can't breathe and my skin clams up instantly from unbelieveable humidity. I can only imagine they are trying to prove to us they have absolutely no control over the temperature of this building. It has been an incorrigible 80 degrees everyday for two weeks. Oh yeah, sure, occasionally the temperature dips to a low of 77 - but that is a rare occurance.

By the second week of this weather, my florescent light coworker was threatening to come to work in shorts and my boss had mentioned something about a speedo. I would have to take desperate measures if I was going to save my sanity. So what did I do? I called the temperature lady. She arrived with her laser temperature gun and pointed it around at various surfaces testing the temperature, which she found to be between 78-80 degrees throughout. "It's really hot in here," I said with a resigned sigh. "It's well within the acceptable range according to the GSA," she says. "We don't have to do anything about it."

I looked up this supposed "range" and the only thing I found suggested that during occupancy the building should be kept between 70 and 78 degrees. 80 is, as I see it, well WITH OUT the acceptable range. Furthermore "Overexposure to heat can lead to a decrease in physical and mental performance, resulting in an increased potential for errors and accidents," says the Department of Sustainability and Environment. I believe it is in their best interest to turn the heat down already and quit trying to run us out of here by threatening to melt our brain cells.

And that lady should really learn to calm herself down. I'm not asking her to anihilate the universe. I'm asking her to turn the temperature down a degree or two. It's really not that big a deal. It's a dial. You turn it. It goes down.