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.