comity (not to be confused with comedy):
1. A state of mutual harmony, friendship, and respect, especially between or among people; civility.
I survived Sunday by some feat of dedication and conviction previously unknown to man. As a result, the world is more benevolent than it was on Saturday, when I spent four hours wandering around Alexandria while my tire was being patched. Someone sabotaged me with a nail. Consequently, I was considering what the worst act of insolence would be that a person could committ against someone they don't know. Quite possibly it would be to place a nail near their tire.
Yesterday was happy hour. Monday only has one purpose, which is to hang out with my beloved coworkers at RFD discussing our coolness. I sent out a somewhat entertaining invitation to an ATM Anti-Valentine's Day party we're having and was subsequently promoted from social coordinator to Empress based solely on my poetic genius. We toasted to my advancement on a ladder completely devoid of meaning, drank some beer, and then I ran off to the 930 club to meet Michelle for a Lifehouse concert, from which I now have a permanant blue stamp on the back of my hand. What am I, 14?
Then comes the most bizarre ride home I've ever encountered. Instead of waiting 25 minutes for a bus I knew would take me directly home by 12:10am, I chose to get on a bus I had once seen driving down King Street, thinking it must go past my house at some point. An hour passes and I still cannot identify a single street name or landmark (it was pitch black out anyway). Finally, at 12:25am, the glorious sound of "King Street and 35th Road" echoes through the long-since empty bus. I shouted inordinately loud for the bus driver to stop and escaped a nightmare that sent me winding through the maze called Shirlington. You know you can drive down 35th Road, making turn after turn, and NEVER leave 35th?
On the docket for tonight: State of the Union Address.
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Saturday, January 28, 2006
Word of the Day: Bagatelle
bagatelle \bag-uh-TEL\, noun:
1. A trifle; a thing of little or no importance.
2. A short, light literary piece.
I was on my way to pick up Kim and Timoni for a night out at 9:12pm when a frantic Lindsey called in a panic that their cab had not arrived and she was about to be late to her own sister's surprise party. Rushing to the rescue, I screached up to Kim's building, and she, Lindsey, Chris and a small bushel of helium balloons piled into my very compact sports car.
We're going to have to come back for Timoni, there's no where for her to fit. I buzzed off toward the bar. Halfway there something seemed slightly off balance. What's that noise? I don't think I've ever had this much weight in my car. Something's not right. But there's no way we're stopping! Lindsey is practically in tears. We whiz past Timoni's, pull up outside like a chariot, everyone piles out. And then the bad news. "You've got a flat," Chris says.
Me to Timoni on cell: I can't come get you. I have a flat.
Timoni: No problem, I'll run 20 blocks in my tall boots in the 30 degree weather and I'll be there in 10 minutes. If you need help with the tire, I had four flats in a year with my last car."
This is one of those times when a boyfriend comes in handy. But seeing that I don't have one, I'd have to borrow Chris. Now Chris is not a small guy. There are rumors that he can bench three of me. But we still pulled, pried, pushed, yanked, sweared at and cursed the five tiny lugnuts that held onto that tire like a mother.
An hour later, fingers and toes sufficiently numb, I admitted defeat and called Roadside Assistance. Then we tried one last time. Of course, now the lugnuts are popping off right and left. But still we can't we get the last lugnut off the damn car. We must have looked desperate because a stranger approached and asked if we'd tried stomping on it. Well actually...no. Will that work? Two seconds later the lugnut was off.
Me to Timoni: I thought we'd never get the lugnuts off.
Timoni: Did you try stomping on it?
Me: Where were you and this brilliant idea an hour ago?
1. A trifle; a thing of little or no importance.
2. A short, light literary piece.
I was on my way to pick up Kim and Timoni for a night out at 9:12pm when a frantic Lindsey called in a panic that their cab had not arrived and she was about to be late to her own sister's surprise party. Rushing to the rescue, I screached up to Kim's building, and she, Lindsey, Chris and a small bushel of helium balloons piled into my very compact sports car.
We're going to have to come back for Timoni, there's no where for her to fit. I buzzed off toward the bar. Halfway there something seemed slightly off balance. What's that noise? I don't think I've ever had this much weight in my car. Something's not right. But there's no way we're stopping! Lindsey is practically in tears. We whiz past Timoni's, pull up outside like a chariot, everyone piles out. And then the bad news. "You've got a flat," Chris says.
Me to Timoni on cell: I can't come get you. I have a flat.
Timoni: No problem, I'll run 20 blocks in my tall boots in the 30 degree weather and I'll be there in 10 minutes. If you need help with the tire, I had four flats in a year with my last car."
This is one of those times when a boyfriend comes in handy. But seeing that I don't have one, I'd have to borrow Chris. Now Chris is not a small guy. There are rumors that he can bench three of me. But we still pulled, pried, pushed, yanked, sweared at and cursed the five tiny lugnuts that held onto that tire like a mother.
An hour later, fingers and toes sufficiently numb, I admitted defeat and called Roadside Assistance. Then we tried one last time. Of course, now the lugnuts are popping off right and left. But still we can't we get the last lugnut off the damn car. We must have looked desperate because a stranger approached and asked if we'd tried stomping on it. Well actually...no. Will that work? Two seconds later the lugnut was off.
Me to Timoni: I thought we'd never get the lugnuts off.
Timoni: Did you try stomping on it?
Me: Where were you and this brilliant idea an hour ago?
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Word of the Day: Circumvention
Michelle just informed me that I added 55 new appointments to our shared calendar in the past few weeks. Ashley thought it was funny that I'd parcelled out my Sunday into hour increments and only had 1.5 hours left to devote to the scrapbooking activity we planned months ago. Yesterday I forgot what month it was.
I call this technique circumvention.
cir·cum·vent
To go around; bypass.
To avoid or get around by artful maneuvering.
It certainly is "artful maneuvering". You think I've lost control -- that I've overbooked, double-booked, and rebooked until I just completely lost it. But oh, you're so wrong. You try to come up with 19 things to do on a Sunday with enough left over to give away every week day opening you have between now and March 4. (Note: nothing of importance is happening on March 4, that's just how far out my calendar stretches at this point. Note 2: I'm apparently free in April if you want to get together for tea or something.) I didn't lose it. I did it on purpose.
So what am I circumventing? My life, of course. I am on a mission to make myself so busy that I don't have to admit that I have no life. Yes, I see the irony in that. Is it possible to be so busy that you effectively circumvent your actual life? I'm currently writing a thesis on that very subject. It might not be possible, but I'm going to give it a go. I guarantee that nothing of true significance (that would signify the existence of an actual life) will happen to me by this time next year. If there is a significant event, I will write a retraction and burn my calendar.
I call this technique circumvention.
cir·cum·vent
To go around; bypass.
To avoid or get around by artful maneuvering.
It certainly is "artful maneuvering". You think I've lost control -- that I've overbooked, double-booked, and rebooked until I just completely lost it. But oh, you're so wrong. You try to come up with 19 things to do on a Sunday with enough left over to give away every week day opening you have between now and March 4. (Note: nothing of importance is happening on March 4, that's just how far out my calendar stretches at this point. Note 2: I'm apparently free in April if you want to get together for tea or something.) I didn't lose it. I did it on purpose.
So what am I circumventing? My life, of course. I am on a mission to make myself so busy that I don't have to admit that I have no life. Yes, I see the irony in that. Is it possible to be so busy that you effectively circumvent your actual life? I'm currently writing a thesis on that very subject. It might not be possible, but I'm going to give it a go. I guarantee that nothing of true significance (that would signify the existence of an actual life) will happen to me by this time next year. If there is a significant event, I will write a retraction and burn my calendar.
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
January 24: Part Two
It's 10:24pm. This is the best possible moment I could find to add an update on the most depressing day of the year. Yeah, I'm gonna have to go with yesterday. Today the sun was out most of the day and we are having unseasonable warm weather for which we have these incredible lightening and thunder storms to thank. I don't remember a time when there was serious electrical storms in the middle of January. Clearly something is off-balance up there.
Anyway, I think we'll have to modify the socialogical findings of this most depressing day. Monday is always worse than Tuesday. Rain is worse than sun. Cold is worse than warm. Debt is worse than money. Boredom is worse than busyness. And lonliness is worse than companionship. We all know these things. Let's apply them to our lives and report back, say, May 18, reportedly the happiest day of the year.
Anyway, I think we'll have to modify the socialogical findings of this most depressing day. Monday is always worse than Tuesday. Rain is worse than sun. Cold is worse than warm. Debt is worse than money. Boredom is worse than busyness. And lonliness is worse than companionship. We all know these things. Let's apply them to our lives and report back, say, May 18, reportedly the happiest day of the year.
Word of the Day: January 24th
Today is January 24, the “most depressing day of the year,” according to a U.K. psychologist. Do you feel it? Judging by the fact that the sun is out today, it's a little bit warmer than yesterday and it's not raining, I think this year's most depressing day was yesterday. Plus it was Monday and that always adds to the misery of waking up to a full five-day week. But today is Tuesday and there are still four full days of work left before we get a weekend.
According to Health magazine, here are the reasons today sucks so bad:
According to Health magazine, here are the reasons today sucks so bad:
Credit-card bills from the holidays are due, New Year's resolutions likely have been broken, and low light levels create seasonal affective disorder, which causes people to feel as if a shadow is over them.I think we're doomed today. Everyone in the world knows it's the worst day of the year. So why did we even arrive at work today? The way I see it, none of us should have even bothered getting out of bed this morning. Well, we'll see how it progresses and make a determination this evening based on events that happen today. I still think yesterday is going to take the prize for worst day of the year. Just tell me you weren't in a bad mood yesterday for no apparent reason. I dare you.
Monday, January 23, 2006
Word of the Day: Pirates??
pi·rate
One who robs at sea or plunders the land from the sea without commission from a sovereign nation.
Pirates still exist? This weekend the U.S. Navy chased down a pirate ship near Somalia in the Indian Ocean.
This reminds me of my days as a kid playing the computer game called Pirates, which I played for hours on my dad's Commodore 64. If I could find that game now, and a working Commodore, I believe I would still be addicted to it.
This pirate attack happened this year on my birthday. I've never stopped to consider all of the other things that are happening on specific days when I'm completely self-absorbed. I just imagine that the whole world has ceased activity in observance of my birthday. But, alas, the pirates of Somalia are still hard at work attacking ships with their cannons and having sword fights and stuff.
One who robs at sea or plunders the land from the sea without commission from a sovereign nation.
Pirates still exist? This weekend the U.S. Navy chased down a pirate ship near Somalia in the Indian Ocean.
This reminds me of my days as a kid playing the computer game called Pirates, which I played for hours on my dad's Commodore 64. If I could find that game now, and a working Commodore, I believe I would still be addicted to it.
This pirate attack happened this year on my birthday. I've never stopped to consider all of the other things that are happening on specific days when I'm completely self-absorbed. I just imagine that the whole world has ceased activity in observance of my birthday. But, alas, the pirates of Somalia are still hard at work attacking ships with their cannons and having sword fights and stuff.
One of the boldest recent attacks was on Nov. 5, when two boats full of pirates approached a cruise ship carrying Western tourists, about 100 miles off Somalia and fired rocket-propelled grenades and assault rifles.
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Word of the Day: System 32
You're asking "What is System 32?" I'm here to tell you that System 32 is everything that is wrong in the world. Here's how:
Upon booting up my computer every day (or however rarely I actually turn the evil thing off and have to boot it cold) the System 32 folder opens automatically, displaying a group of random files I have no intention of ever needing. Despite my resentment of the automatic opening of the folder, and the totally convoluted solutions I've tried, fruitlessly, in order to get rid of it, my friend System 32 holds on. Somedays I deal with the nuisance peacefully. I just close the folder and go about my business. Other days I get so frustrated by the existence of the folder that I spend literally hours trying to eradicate it, hide it, rename it, banish it from my sight, anything!
Today I learned that the mere presence of the folder suggests I may have contracted a virus of such proportions that I may never get rid of the folder, forever being plagued by its uselessness.
Clearly, this parallels all unexplainable, exasperating and undeniably evil components of an otherwise organized and fulfilling life. No matter how put together you think things are, how organized you have your schedule or how great you think your friends are, there will always be that one folder that keeps opening and spilling out havoc on everything else around it. A virus so annoying, it promises to nag at your until the end of time, or that moment when you finally break down and buy a new computer.
Upon booting up my computer every day (or however rarely I actually turn the evil thing off and have to boot it cold) the System 32 folder opens automatically, displaying a group of random files I have no intention of ever needing. Despite my resentment of the automatic opening of the folder, and the totally convoluted solutions I've tried, fruitlessly, in order to get rid of it, my friend System 32 holds on. Somedays I deal with the nuisance peacefully. I just close the folder and go about my business. Other days I get so frustrated by the existence of the folder that I spend literally hours trying to eradicate it, hide it, rename it, banish it from my sight, anything!
Today I learned that the mere presence of the folder suggests I may have contracted a virus of such proportions that I may never get rid of the folder, forever being plagued by its uselessness.
Clearly, this parallels all unexplainable, exasperating and undeniably evil components of an otherwise organized and fulfilling life. No matter how put together you think things are, how organized you have your schedule or how great you think your friends are, there will always be that one folder that keeps opening and spilling out havoc on everything else around it. A virus so annoying, it promises to nag at your until the end of time, or that moment when you finally break down and buy a new computer.
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
Word of the Day: Ubiquitous
I chose today's word because Kim has us all contemplating it's true meaning lately and I think it applies to my state of mind today, which is unstable, at best. Who knew misery could be so all-encompassing?
u·biq·ui·tous
adj.
Being or seeming to be everywhere at the same time; constantly encountered
Now that I'm over my near-fatal bout with pneumonia, I feel more capable of going back to my normal tasks of updating the blog, although I can't quite sum up into words the state of my current condition quite as well as Gene Weingarten can, so I will defer to his wisdom and authority today...
u·biq·ui·tous
adj.
Being or seeming to be everywhere at the same time; constantly encountered
Now that I'm over my near-fatal bout with pneumonia, I feel more capable of going back to my normal tasks of updating the blog, although I can't quite sum up into words the state of my current condition quite as well as Gene Weingarten can, so I will defer to his wisdom and authority today...
Listen, people. This is not a tranquilizing chat. We do not soothe and pacify. We do not placate. We do not pander by confirming your most comforting assumptions. We explore eternal verities here, and life, to quote Thomas Hobbes, is nasty, brutish and short. if you do not wish to be emotionally disturbed, I highly recommend Ms. O’Donnel’s chat, where you can get excellent advice on the appropriate uses of tarragon in the preparation of veal. The only likely mention of veal in this chat would be to note that the baby cow died alone and in fear, as do we all. Okay?
Why did this poll bother people so much? Because it has confirmed what we all know but seldom face – that our relationships, especially the strongest and most passionate relationships, are more fragile than we like to think. We. Are. More. Alone. Than. We. Want. To. Be.
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Word of the Day: SAD
seasonal affective disorder • \SEE-zun-ul-a-FEK-tiv-dis-OR-der\ • noun
: depression that tends to recur as the days grow shorter during the fall and winter
Back on the mainland now. Back to work. Back to small group. Back to life as I knew it prior to pretending to be a nomad. Who am I fooling? I'm a DC'er. It's practically built into my DNA at this point. I have reprimanded myself and after a period of probation I will be released back into the functioning public (perhaps after the rest of the jetlag wears off).
Read an article today about how Seattle is about to break a record set 40 years ago for number of consecutive days of heavy rainfall. Back in 99 when I lived there, we had 87 days of straight rain, but it was not classified as "heavy" rainfall. I bet they are all suffering from (S)easonal (A)ffective (D)isorder (SAD). I, however, am suffering from something more like (S)orry excuse for (A) decent winter (D)epression. If it's going to be cold, it better be darn cold. If it's not going to snow or cause delays and closings of the government, then just send in Spring already because this halfway stuff is wasting my time.
Lots of things going on. Yesterday Michelle, Dida and I (aka WE) went to Restaurant Week at Zengo in Chinatown. Amazing Latin/Asian fusion cuisine. On the way, Michelle and I were stopped by a very assertive, yet misunderstood guy perhaps my age, dressed in all black. By stopped I mean, he stood in front of us, basically blocking our passage with not so much as a reason for such rude behavior. We tried to push past him. He stepped in front of us. "What the hell?" we said to each other. Then we looked to our left and saw two black suburbans and felt like complete idiots as we watched Donald Rumsfeld walk past us into Clyde's. My very first genuine DC sighting. Apparently Cheney was dining there as well. Yes, I feel special.
Today I read an interesting article about how the number of people who eat at their desks has risen dramatically. At least 75% of workers eat lunch at their desks 2-3 times a week.
This weekend the ATM is taking an extended trip (our first as a league) to the Poconos to go skiing. I'm not actually skiing, but that's not the point. Any trip of the Anti-temperance League promises to be a good one.
: depression that tends to recur as the days grow shorter during the fall and winter
Back on the mainland now. Back to work. Back to small group. Back to life as I knew it prior to pretending to be a nomad. Who am I fooling? I'm a DC'er. It's practically built into my DNA at this point. I have reprimanded myself and after a period of probation I will be released back into the functioning public (perhaps after the rest of the jetlag wears off).
Read an article today about how Seattle is about to break a record set 40 years ago for number of consecutive days of heavy rainfall. Back in 99 when I lived there, we had 87 days of straight rain, but it was not classified as "heavy" rainfall. I bet they are all suffering from (S)easonal (A)ffective (D)isorder (SAD). I, however, am suffering from something more like (S)orry excuse for (A) decent winter (D)epression. If it's going to be cold, it better be darn cold. If it's not going to snow or cause delays and closings of the government, then just send in Spring already because this halfway stuff is wasting my time.
Lots of things going on. Yesterday Michelle, Dida and I (aka WE) went to Restaurant Week at Zengo in Chinatown. Amazing Latin/Asian fusion cuisine. On the way, Michelle and I were stopped by a very assertive, yet misunderstood guy perhaps my age, dressed in all black. By stopped I mean, he stood in front of us, basically blocking our passage with not so much as a reason for such rude behavior. We tried to push past him. He stepped in front of us. "What the hell?" we said to each other. Then we looked to our left and saw two black suburbans and felt like complete idiots as we watched Donald Rumsfeld walk past us into Clyde's. My very first genuine DC sighting. Apparently Cheney was dining there as well. Yes, I feel special.
Today I read an interesting article about how the number of people who eat at their desks has risen dramatically. At least 75% of workers eat lunch at their desks 2-3 times a week.
The typical desk has 100 times as much bacteria as the typical kitchen table.The article also says that "what's at risk personally may be more profound -- the chance to connect with colleagues and staff." And how true is that? Just ask Michelle and Timoni, whom I lunch with every single day in a deserted room of the 6th floor. Lunch together is like lunch itself. We need it to refuel, not from food, but from our daily dose of catching up (even though we sit 2 feet away from each other all day, everyday -- it's not the same. Okay I know, we're pathetic.)
This weekend the ATM is taking an extended trip (our first as a league) to the Poconos to go skiing. I'm not actually skiing, but that's not the point. Any trip of the Anti-temperance League promises to be a good one.
Monday, January 09, 2006
Oh, Thank Goodness
Laura should be home tonight. Which means she will be in the office tomorrow. And my life will be infinitely better.
Sorry I sucked at updating Laura's blog. But hey, it's hard to do my job, Laura's job (don't believe her when she says she doesn't do anything), keep up on my oh-so-popular social life (um, yeah, I stayed home on a Friday night to watch Annie on purpose...) and update a blog!
Thank goodness Laura's back.
Sorry I sucked at updating Laura's blog. But hey, it's hard to do my job, Laura's job (don't believe her when she says she doesn't do anything), keep up on my oh-so-popular social life (um, yeah, I stayed home on a Friday night to watch Annie on purpose...) and update a blog!
Thank goodness Laura's back.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
Word of the Day: Deutschland
Ein neues Jahr! I can't believe it's 2006!
Guten Abend aus Deutschland. I've been traveling around the countryside for 7 days now and head home in a few days, despite my reluctance to return to real life. Wouldn't it be glorious to just travel around the world every day of your life, enjoying what you want to, not having to do the things you despite and loving every minute of it? Chris makes the case that a routine has some merit and that going too long without one leads to some amount of frustration and anxiety. I suppose that's true, but I hate to admit it because then my one day dream that still loftily exists in my imagination would be crushed into tiny pieces. While stuck at work, one must have something they can think of that would be so much better than what they're currently doing. For me, that is the thought of traveling endlessly to exotic locales, tasting the food, speaking the language (or butchering it, as it may be) and learning new things. At this point, I can hardly imagine it's possible to grow tired of the world of intrigue that is spread before us. For now I'm happy just to have satisfied my wanderlust, for now, with a 9-day stay in Deutschland.
Aufweidersehen.
Guten Abend aus Deutschland. I've been traveling around the countryside for 7 days now and head home in a few days, despite my reluctance to return to real life. Wouldn't it be glorious to just travel around the world every day of your life, enjoying what you want to, not having to do the things you despite and loving every minute of it? Chris makes the case that a routine has some merit and that going too long without one leads to some amount of frustration and anxiety. I suppose that's true, but I hate to admit it because then my one day dream that still loftily exists in my imagination would be crushed into tiny pieces. While stuck at work, one must have something they can think of that would be so much better than what they're currently doing. For me, that is the thought of traveling endlessly to exotic locales, tasting the food, speaking the language (or butchering it, as it may be) and learning new things. At this point, I can hardly imagine it's possible to grow tired of the world of intrigue that is spread before us. For now I'm happy just to have satisfied my wanderlust, for now, with a 9-day stay in Deutschland.
Aufweidersehen.
Thursday, January 05, 2006
Just Because
I don't want Laura to take away my blogging privileges just because I haven't posted anything interesting. So here, while I'm off doing work (yes, I am doing work at 9:15 p.m.) you can keep yourself entertained with this:
Check out the video link "Dave and Bill O'Reilly" on this page
It's worth the watch. Hopefully Laura won't mind that I'm bringing (all be it comical) political debate onto her blog. But hey, this is the stuff that interests me.
Check out the video link "Dave and Bill O'Reilly" on this page
It's worth the watch. Hopefully Laura won't mind that I'm bringing (all be it comical) political debate onto her blog. But hey, this is the stuff that interests me.
Monday, January 02, 2006
Happy New Year!
Well, since Laura isn't around, I figure I should wish everyone a happy new year on her behalf. So... happy 2006! Got any new year's resolutions?
My resolution is to do a half-assed job at work. I figure that if I'm only a mediocre employee, after a while people will stop giving me work to do, which means a. i can have more time to work on Laura's blog and b. maybe i can get a day off.
2006 is going to be known as the Year of Change. I say that cause I sense that big things are in store for me, and Laura, and everyone we know. And by the way, I'm psychic... my track record of predicting snow days and young musicians untimely deaths are near perfect, so if I say change is in store, I ain't lying.
My resolution is to do a half-assed job at work. I figure that if I'm only a mediocre employee, after a while people will stop giving me work to do, which means a. i can have more time to work on Laura's blog and b. maybe i can get a day off.
2006 is going to be known as the Year of Change. I say that cause I sense that big things are in store for me, and Laura, and everyone we know. And by the way, I'm psychic... my track record of predicting snow days and young musicians untimely deaths are near perfect, so if I say change is in store, I ain't lying.
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