Word of the Day: Squalor

squal·or ( P ) Pronunciation Key
A filthy and wretched condition or quality.

I'm living in squalor.

The office refrigerator problem just became so much worse. On friday we were instructed to clean all perishable food out of the refrigerator because the power would be out all weekend. Fine. Some benevolent soul from the other office that uses or fridge cleaned it out and put all the old food in plastic bags and placed them near the door of the kitchen. It's just that he forgot one small detail. It was after 2pm, so the cleaning crew had already come for the day. And there is no cleaning crew over the weekend.

(Fast forward to Monday morning)

What is that smell? Ew. Is that the garbage from the refrigerator? All sitting there in neat little plastic bags, exactly where they were left on Friday? I wonder how many mice and cockroaches feasted on old leftovers over the weekend? You'd think an office full of people who were terrorized recently by a never-ending mouse problem would be a little more careful not to leave food laying out all weekend.

Anyone for some warm yogurt?

Word of the Day: deus ex machina

deus ex machina \DAY-uhs-eks-MAH-kuh-nuh; -nah; -MAK-uh-nuh\, noun:
Any active agent who appears unexpectedly to solve an apparently insoluble difficulty.

I can now tell the world what 2am and 4am look like in full detail. I have spent the past six nights researching what occurs when most sane people are tucked away safely and snuggly in their beds. During these hours when the world is quiet, I am awake bringing order to the universe by providing the rest of you lazy people with the answers to what you've always wondered: What do people do in the middle of the night?

(For those of you who have asked out of sheer concern for my well-being, the chanting has stopped. I know this because I am awake all night.)

My reasoning for being awake all night is three-fold. 1.) I believe the chanting is over because I have finally officially been brain-washed into staying up all night. 2.) I'm sick, and sleeping is prohibited when sick. 3.) I am suffering from "overactive brain syndrome" which results in being unable to shut down activity until approximately 7:43 -- two minutes before my alarm clock goes off.

Here is what I have learned in my insomnia:
1. There is more traffic at 4am than at 2am.
2. Traffic lights do not run on an abbreviated schedule even after 2am when instead of 20 cars passing per second there is an average of 1 car passing per five minutes.
3. If you listen long and hard enough, you can almost hear other people talking before you realize it's all in your own crazy head.
4. Peanut butter tastes better after midnight.
5. The only thing on TV is monotonous infomercials about food dehydrators and annoying ads for get-rich-quick real estate programs.
6. No one likes it when you call them before the sun rises.
7. If you try to write a book during the night hours, you'll have to erase it all in the morning when you realize it's completely incomprehensible.
8. You still have to get up at 7:44, so WHY ARE YOU STILL AWAKE??

The Great Scavenger Hunt

Last Saturday we ran around DC like the crazy people we are on a huge photo scavenger hunt. The point was to get more points than the other teams based on which photos you decide to take. We only had a disposable camera with 27 shots so it required a lot of strategic planning to get the most possible points. In the end, my team won by 15 points, despite a 30 pt deduction for being 22 minutes late returning. Here are a few of my favorite photos from the event.

Just tell me this photo doesn't look fake. Even the sky looks fake (35 pts).

Here's the team doing kartwheels with the Capitol in the background (25 pts):

And here's the team in a porta-potty (35 pts)

Word of the Day: Five Guys

Don't worry, I'm not going to actually write a whole blog entry about five guys... oh but I am going to write about FIVE GUYS -- as in the best burger place in the world, "...a little joint with all the charm of an RFK Stadium bathroom," according to a wash post writer. Here's a link to the story in the post...and a few excerpts:

Four years ago, before franchising, Five Guys was just a little family burger operation with five locations and a steady, if cultish following, in Northern Virginia. Today the business is by some estimates heading toward $1 billion in value. Five Guys has 87 locations. Most are in the Washington region, but a hundred more will open along the East Coast this year, and another thousand are being phased in. Each store, the company says, pulls in about $1 million a year.

An interesting question: Should the pickles go on top of the tomatoes or should the tomatoes go on top of the pickles?

Thus, you can't buy one Five Guys franchise. You have to buy at least five.

I used to work at a "Five Guys" type of establishment when I was in high school. It was called Burger Hut and was considered "medium fast food". I'm not surprised that I love Five Guys so much since my days at Burger Hut forever endeared me to a really good hamburger. I love it that you can now find Five Guys everywhere instead of just in Bailey's Crossroads and Springfield. I've decided officially that I can't move back to the West coast until Five Guys has become firmly established there. All you people who think In and Out Burger rivals Five Guys are wrong. It's not even close.

Cherry blossoms

Cherry blossoms
Originally uploaded by timoni.

One of the best things about Timoni, amongst hundreds of things, is that she always has a camera with her and is prepared to take photos of all the excursions we go on, including our trip to the cherry blossoms on Friday. So here is a lovely photos compliments of Timoni.

Word of the Day: Perambulate

perambulate \puh-RAM-byuh-layt\, intransitive verb:
1. To walk about; to roam; to stroll; as, "he perambulated in the park."

Well, I don't know if we were hoping to "perambulate" during our lunch-time walk to the tidal basin today, per say, but a trip to the National Mall during this particular week inevitably involves a lot of stop-and-go walking behind strollers galore and camera-totting gawkers.

It's the annual CHERRY BLOSSOM FESTIVAL.

The 2006 festival marks the 94th celebration of the original gift of the 3,000 cherry trees from the city of Tokyo to the people of Washington, DC in 1912.

It is a sight to see, and certainly worth the five-minute walk from my office during lunch (and it was gorgeous out today!). I just have a few words of caution: DON'T GO! Not only are there strollers (I mean thousands of them), that also presupposes that there are children. Children everywhere. And old people who walk really really slowly. Don't get me wrong. I love tourists -- except for when they are in possession of a map and a camera or within close proximity of a metro station. But today, and I gather tomorrow, are quite possibly the worst days to be within 20 miles of Washington D.C.

Word of the Day: Symbiosis

sym·bi·o·sis
A close, prolonged association between two or more different organisms of different species that may, but does not necessarily, benefit each member.

You'll have to excuse my befuddledness for the remainder of this post. They are vacuuming what seems like the entire square footage of this office. I haven't slept in at least a week thanks to the chanting going on next door. And I was verbally assaulted this morning, leading to a less than fresh and exciting perspective on the world.

Todd suggested I use this word today. I text messaged Timoni something really important over the weekend which she happened to receive while at dinner with a boy. Knowing it was rude to do the cell phone thing in the middle of a date, she also knew she couldn't *not* text back because it was a very important matter pertaining to the person she spends more time with than anyone on the earth, who was in need of consoling. That might make her a bad date, but a really exceptional friend. Todd suggested that ours was a rather symbiotic relationship, but upon closer inspection, it isn't because our friendship is mutually beneficial for many reasons. We do have a close, prolonged relationship though. If you wanted to determine how many hours a day we spend together, it would be more advantageous to just count the hours we're asleep and subtract that from 24 to get the answer.

I learned this week though that something that I had invested a lot of time and energy in and thought was mutually beneficial turned out to be the extreme opposite. That was made very clear to me in a less than compassionate way and tore down a lot of the beliefs I had that people are, in general, able to live together in harmony. What's the purpose of building a life where you are constantly at odds with the people around you? What I want more than anything is "world peace" and I really mean that. What is wrong with us as a people that many of our relationships are symbiotic disasters? Why can't we all just get along?

Question of the Week: Who is trying to brainwash me?

I'm convinced that someone is trying to brainwash me from the apartment next door. There is no other explanation.

For an entire week I've been having fitful dreams usually ending in me violently waking myself up in frustration and anxiety. Someone is repeating something over and over in a monotone voice which I can hear clearly through the wall dividing my condo from the one next door. Every night between 2:30 and 3:30am, the message repeats for an hour -- the same thing over and over and over and over until I want to kill myself. Why do you hate me, neighbors? Why do you want to steal my sleep?

A subliminal message is a signal or message designed to pass below the normal limits of perception. For example it might be inaudible to the conscious mind (but audible to the subconscious or deeper mind) or might be an image transmitted briefly and unperceived consciously and yet perceived unconsciously.

I've decided that the person next door is involved in a scheme to brainwash me via subliminal midnight messages played through the wall. Whoever this operative is believes that the plan is working and is not aware that I'm waking up every night and have now uncovered their sordid plan. I don't know yet what they're trying to accomplish, but I will not be subjected to this madness. I cannot be brainwashed.

Well, maybe they're chanting. Do people chant?

Word of the Day: Stolid

stolid \STOL-id\, adjective:
Having or revealing little emotion or sensibility; not easily excited.

Here's what I've been doing all week. ALL WEEK. I have all my email windows open on my computer and I'm rapidly and repeatedly clicking from one to the other, hopelessly waiting for something to arrive. What is that something? I'm not entirely sure. Just SOMETHING.

Is something big about to happen and my intuition knows it but it just hasn't occured yet? I told a friend yesterday that I'm rather boring these days and he immediately said "The calm before the storm." But IS it the calm before the storm? Is there ever going to be a storm or am I just waiting for nothing? (I just checked again, nothing new in any of my inboxes -- still nothing).

Waiting for that call on Saturday night, waiting for that great job to come along, or waiting for that perfect relationship; it never ends. According to this article the average person will spend 5 years of his or her life waiting in line, 2 years playing telephone tag, and six months sitting at red lights. That is over 7 and a half years either at best doing nothing, or at worst experiencing great aggravation. The bottom line is that even in our fast-paced world, with postmodern conveniences, we are all waiting for something.

We are all always waiting for something. But are we ever waiting for nothing?

Cube World Digital Stick People!!

Seriously, check this out. Timoni found the coolest thing ever...
http://www.thinkgeek.com/geektoys/cubegoodies/7b24/

I have to have one of these! No, not one, MANY. I want a whole colony.

Word of the Day: Ingenuity

in·ge·nu·i·ty ( P ) Pronunciation Key (nj-n-t, -ny-)
n. pl. in·ge·nu·i·ties
Inventive skill or imagination; cleverness.
Imaginative and clever design or construction: a narrative plot of great ingenuity.
An ingenious or imaginative contrivance.

Now THIS is genius in action if I've ever seen it. Completely brilliant this dude is, forming a whole new "unknown" life around an episode of what he says to be complete amnesia.

Here's the story in a nutshell. This dude wakes up in a subway and can't remember who he is, etc. The police call a number mysteriously written on a note in his bag, and he's picked up by a friend and taken to a posh Manhattan condo where he lives. He then spends the next years of his life relearning everything -- EVERYthing.

Believable? Sure. But now there's a documentary about it. And there's only circumstantial evidence that he's telling the truth because there have been no real tests done to prove it.

You see, here's what I think. As the story says "pre-amnesia Bruce was a slightly arrogant, hard-edged cynic". I think Bruce decided he was sick of himself and needed to change. How better to do it than one day miraculously get amnesia. As it says "He lost a lot of his cockiness. He became nicer." It's frankly a pretty ingenius plan for reinventing yourself. It's like a real-life Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Only with a few rather tedious drawbacks, such as the fact that you must remember what you don't remember. You might launch into a conversation about last Easter and forget that you weren't supposed to remember that. However, the benefits are apparent. You could snub anyone and everyone. "Do I know you?" You would never have to apologize for being a complete jerk the whole first part of your life, and now that you're really nice, people can't hold the old-you against you.

It's totally ingenius. Do you suppose I could pull it off before work tomorrow. So when I don't show up and my boss calls I can say "Do I know you?"

Word of the Day: Spring

Spring:
The season of the year, occurring between winter and summer, during which the weather becomes warmer and plants revive, extending in the Northern Hemisphere from the vernal equinox to the summer solstice and popularly considered to comprise March, April, and May.

A time of growth and renewal.

Today at exactly 1:26pm it turned Spring. I wanted to bring this to your attention because you wouldn't otherwise be privy to this information since the current weather.com report shows a blustery 42 degrees. Definitely not Spring weather. Oh yeah, and there's this little bit of breaking news from Wash Post: Snow Forecast for Second Day of Spring

"In the Washington area, we have a very, very slight chance of some snow tonight," Listemaa said. "By dawn, we think there's a 60 percent chance of precipitation, and we think it will turn to snow. We could have a changeover to snow and sleet in the afternoon. Then, after sunset, we expect a changeover to all snow."

Now that is just uncalled for. I mean, seriously. Haven't we had enough of old man winter for one year? Aren't we due a modicum of nice weather? We've been so accommodating so far -- allowing the 30 degree weather to ruin all hopes of ever leaving the house without a thick wool coat all throughout February, gritting our teeth but still not complaining while the wind lashed at us throughout the first part of March. But now, well, now it's just uncalled for that winter would continue. It's just plain mean, and I intend to write a letter to... well, someone... regarding this atrocity.

Today's Photo Favorites

Here are some of the photos I took in Tucson last weekend. They're too gorgeous not to share...


View from the backyard at Sundee & Eric's house


Catalina mountains with the blanket of snow


My favorite, the purple prickly pear


And the cool yellow cactus... and this is all landscaping around the pool.

Word of the Day: Marrakesh

Mar·ra·kesh or Mar·ra·kech
A city of west-central Morocco in the foothills of the Atlas Mountains. Founded in 1062, it is a commercial center and a popular resort noted for its leatherwork. Population: 602,000.



Saturday night ten of us got together for dinner at Marrakesh in Chinatown. Reservations were at 9pm and they wouldn't let us inside until one minute past. We all sort of awkwardly sat down and had our hands washed by the waiter at the table. Then hand towels were draped over our laps and the feeding began. One course after another was brought out, all requiring the use of fingers as utensils. I can't say I've ever eaten phillo dough, powdered sugar and cubed chicken with my hands before, so it was definitely an experience worth having. The wine was fabulous and so were the beef skewers and couscous and baklava and Moroccan hot tea. I could live on that tea alone. Oh and then there was the belly dancer. I'm not even sure how they move their hips that way, but it's highly impressive.

Question of the Day

And now for a new addition to our daily program -- duh..duh..duh

THE QUESTION OF THE DAY

1. Do people really care about their jobs as much as they allude to in town hall meetings that last for two hours and are a huge waste to taxpayers money?

I'm just asking because I almost fell asleep in said meeting and I can't imagine how anyone was so moved by the presentation to want to remain captive for an additional 40 minutes by asking pointless questions. The only reason I can think of is so they could show their great dedication and committment to the organization. So begs the question ARE THEY REALLY DEDICATED and COMMITTED or just suck-ups??

2. How many single men in Washington DC will I have to meet to find my soulmate?

According to a survey I just took online (results below), there are ZERO men in Washington DC that meet my requirements. I wasn't being too picky either. I just asked for someone in the upper 50% percentile of attractiveness and who had what I considered to be a healthy range of emotional stability. I didn't even base it on education, job or financial status. I did put in a height and age specification, but they were what I consider to be pretty relaxed. So what is the problem here? I think I need to get out of here!

I mean really. I have to meet 374 men before I find a soulmate here? Does that include random people I pass on the street, or just people I actually get introduced to? Does it count people I work with, because there are at least 10 guys here (ATM!) that meet the requirements but whom are non-candidates due to work status. So that's 10 down, 364 more to go. Now eliminate the masses of people I know from church, and I'm down another, say, 64. Subtract the people I've already dated and rejected (that sounds harsh), and remove the random people I've met over the four years I've lived here... I'd say I have about 84 people to go.

It took me 4 years to meet 290 people. At this rate, it'll take me at least another 1.34 years to find my soulmate.


---------------------
Results

Your Final Probability Coefficient: 2.6754765128952E-03

You have to meet: 374 male Washington D.C. singles to find your soulmate.

Total (selected) population in Washington D.C.: 572,059

Estimate male singles in Washington D.C. meeting your marital status and age requirements: 0

Word of the Day: Compartmentalize

com·part·men·tal·ize
To separate into distinct parts, categories, or compartments

I have a friend whom many would recognize by name, but whom many will never meet in real life. He's a true example of compartmentalizing. Today he sent me an email that said "Our worlds collide" and contained a Word of the Day definition for *compartmentalize*. A true oxymoron.

ox·y·mo·ron
A rhetorical figure in which incongruous or contradictory terms are combined

The Rancid Goat examines the need for compartmentalizing your life (something he does very well, in fact. He refuses to allow me to meet any of his other friends), but I think I have the opposite problem. I need more compartmentalizing. Todd says that mixing different sets of friends is "like mixing dark and light liquors together, a potential devastating combination". I'm starting to agree with that. It creates a sort of sludge pile from which you can't seem to pull out anything that hasn't been tainted by another. A lot of people, like Kim, only eat one particular thing at a time. Potatoes first, chicken second, bread last, for instance. Perhaps that's how we should model our lives. I mean, if you just throw it all in there together and mix it up, you've got some strange bready potato that tastes like chicken. Keeping a nice wall between each allows you to partake of the true flavor of each particular dish.

So what I'm really saying is that friends are like chicken. With compartmentalizing, you could introduce a friend from Group A to Group B and it would be like dunking chicken into special sauce. Extra flavoring. Spicing things up a bit. When you allow everything to run together, the sauce is only going to dilute the mix.

What in the world am I talking about? I should really stop talking.

Word of the Day: Deliverance

de·liv·er·ance
Rescue from bondage or danger

I'm back from Tucson, where the weather has never been below a fine 83 degrees while I'm visiting. Well, that's no longer true. While it was a blissful 78 degrees in D.C. this weekend, I was off in Tucson, the notorious land of sun, where it was SNOWING and below 50. Snow and cold stalks me relentlessly. I arrived back at home on Monday night to... 50 degree weather.

I just want everyone to know that my sanity and well-being have once again been restored. The System 32 folder has finally been erradicated. I have been delivered from the dark and gloomy word of virusdom. My good friend Eric in Tucson took one look at my ailing PC and declared me virus-ridden. He even went so far as to say that someone had commandeered my computer and was probably sending mass quantities of spam (oh dread!) from my computer. Of course, he is trained to find and destroy spammers for AOL, so he sees through sniper-like glasses (I'm sure I wasn't sending spam). But nonetheless, he worked his magic and VOILA my computer is as good as new. No more System 32 folder. It no longer takes 15 minutes to shut down and start up. It's dreamy. However, I am out of space on my hard drive, which is presumably nearing a full-scale crash, and I need all new memory and the processor speed is antiquated and well... I should just get a whole new computer.

Word of the Day: Enterprising

en·ter·pris·ing ( P ) Pronunciation Key (ntr-przng)adj.
Showing initiative and willingness to undertake new projects

The past few days have been a flurry of activity and decisions. I am not too keen on writing things on my blog that have yet to occur but will give minute details as they pertain to the rest of the week. Less than a week ago I ran across a real estate venture that I cannot pass up. That has shaken the contents of my normal, calm life up a bit. The contract goes in today. Despite whether or not I buy the place, the whole process is just nerve-wracking and not conducive to my normal way of doing things, which is to research, think, pray, think some more... Making immediate decisions is harrowing. But the good news is that I can't screw up anyone else's life but my own.

Michelle and I finally figured out how to convince our boss to give us time off together. We bribed him with a chocolate sundae and he agreed to let us go to Hawaii together in May. We've got plane tickets but not much else, including a real plan. Any ideas or suggestions? We're going to Honololu. The real question is who will update the Word of the Day if we're both gone?? We clearly didn't think this through very well.

Tomorrow I'm heading out to Tucson!! YAY. It's warm and sunny there and the promise of great Mexican food always gets me excited.

Word of the Day: Abhorrent

ab·hor·rent
Disgusting, loathsome, or repellent.
Feeling repugnance or loathing.

What is it that makes a normal, functioning human being forget all propriety at work and feel it is acceptable to leave their food in the refrigerator to rot for, well, until I finally get disgusted enough to take it out?

According to the ADA/ConAgra Foods survey, 44 percent of office refrigerators are cleaned only once a month, and 22 percent are cleaned just once or twice a year.

And guess who is cleaning it out? ME! You jerks. Quit putting your food in the fridge and leaving it there for months. Michelle and I just removed the following items from the office refrigerator:

1. (3) containers full of rotting chickpeas (why would someone bring that many chickpeas to the office??)

2. (9) mini-cartons of curdled milk

3. (4) tupperwares full of unidentifiable meat (possibly turkey, but the layer of green fuzz made it difficult to tell)

4. (7) yogurts

5. (14) half drank bottles of soda, water, juice

6. (5) half-eaten Quizno's sandwiches

And... A slice of cheese from August 05, a carton of orange juice from February 05, a bag full of oozing messiness that almost didn't make it to the trash, three rotten apples, a really squishy pear, and two bags of goopy carrots.

If any of those things were yours, you owe me retribution for the mental anguish I'm currently in and for the inevitable years of my life I have lost in handling your molded and diseased food. I only accept cash.

Word of the Day: Brilliant

bril·liant

Relating to or being a hue that has a combination of high lightness and strong saturation.
Marked by unusual and impressive intellectual acuteness: a brilliant mind; a brilliant solution to the problem.

Notice: This entry was posted with the permission of my cubemate

I'm sure I've complained about the florescent light situation before on here, but it's just been taken to a whole new level. Previously, when the bulb were replaced overhead in our no-natural-light office, we just climbed up on our rolling chairs and unscrewed them. Problem solved. I've even signed a waiver stating that I asked the light-changer guy not to reinstall new ones. Last week we received a notice that we were no longer to mess with the lights and if we were caught we'd be reprimanded. The only way to get any attention regarding the lighting situation was to get a doctor's note. Okay, fine. They win. I know defeat when I see it. I won't mess with the lights anymore.

But then came the day when they screwed back in all our lights. Let me tell you, that was a scary, scary sight. I saw my coworkers in a new light. It was like that Seinfeld epidode where Kramer overbakes himself on the roof with the butter. "Look away, I'm hideous!"

A major controversy started yesterday when my cubemate fashioned a piece of cardboard, rigged with office supplies (including, but not limited to, paperclips, picture hooks, cable and duct tape) to cover the light. And while that's all good and fun, the office directors were all in a meeting while he did it. When they came back and saw the make-shift light blocker, they were slightly displeased. They attempted, in a diplomatic way, to get him to remove it. No dice. He left it up until the last possible moment, which just happens to be this morning.

Imagine the light given off by a regular household 100wt bulb (for reference, the bulbs I just replaced in my house are 60wt). We're talking the strength of 30 100wt bulbs. It's enough light to fully illuminate the Dulles International Airport runway. I'm blinded by the light, but at least I share my misery with my good old cubemate. Right? But oh, wait, there's more to this story. He took down the blocker only after finding out that they're moving him out of our cube and into his own office. OFFICE!

The moral of the story is, if you complain loud enough and hang an illegal piece of cardboard from the ceiling, you get REWARDED for it. Now that takes BRILLIANT to a new level.

Word of the Day: Tofu Todd

Definition: Unknown

Tonight = Monday. ATM night. RFD. Usual time, usual place.

All the "usual" members of the ATM were in attendance tonight except for Michelle (who was there in spirit). So everyone can attest to the fact that Tofu Todd agreed to start a blog entitled "Rancid Goat". Stay tuned for a link to said blog, which will surely entertain for endless hours! Today was a good day for blogs. My friend Brian is also starting a blog tomorrow. I can't wait!!

So there we were, hanging out at RFD, when I noticed that if I didn't leave that very second, I would miss the blasted bus AGAIN. To avoid this calamity, we ran (ran!) to the metro. On the way, Todd said that if we didn't make the metro, we'd go have shots and come back later. Upon arrival, we found that a train was arriving. Damn it -- GREEN! According to the board, the yellow was 8 minutes away! There's no way I'll make the 8pm bus. P.S. I hate the bus. So Todd and I look at each other, we look at Tony and Steve, and we bolt for the stairs.

We met some random guy at the bar who was hanging out and recruited him for the Tequila shot. Then we ran back to the metro where again the Green line was arriving. Todd said "That's the green, don't get on!" due to a previous run-in we had with the green line. And he stayed with me until the yellow arrived (even though he could have gotten on the green). Seconds after the green went away, the yellow was arriving, but we noticed that the board still said "Yellow: 8 minutes". Wait, what? OMG. The board is broken!!

Word of the Day: Fidus Achates

Definition of: fidus Achates
fidus Achates: Faithful Achates (the companion of Aeneas); a true friend.

This weekend I went to Pittsburgh with a dear, dear friend. And what a fun time it was. This photo sums it all up for me. Here we have me and Kim with our beautiful new half-price hair, Kasey and Brian who we hung out with Saturday night and the "super-star" glasses we took from a geocache:



Love ya Kim!

Word of the Day: Portend

por·tend
To serve as an omen or a warning of; presage: black clouds that portend a storm.
To indicate by prediction; forecast

My computer just beeped three times. Is that a problem? Actually, it didn't just beep three times, it beeped three times, followed by three more beeps and then followed by three more beeps. That has to be a problem, right? I googled "computer beeps" and all I was able to find out is that if it beeps two long beeps you're going to die and if it beeps one long and three short beeps you're going to live. How am I supposed to understand a computer? It's worse than a baby. Do I feed it? Do I cuddle it? Does it want to be held? Or should I just shut it off? The beeping is probably somehow indirectly related to the System 32 folder. I bet it is. The evil thing.

Speaking of bad omens... can a blown light bulb portend a worthless open house? If so, I might as well take my condo off the market now and save everyone the hassle. Last time I had an open house, the bulbs in my bathroom light fixture blew the night before and I spent what seemed like hours on a stool trying to get the cover off the darn thing so I could change them. Tonight the entrance hall light blew... and would you know that I have an open house on Sunday? What are the chances of that happening? I am not superstitious (I am afterall a Christian) but then is God trying to tell me something?

Word of the Day: bete noire

bete noire \bet-NWAHR\:
Something or someone particularly detested or avoided.

So I'm sitting here at my desk, quietly working like a good employee and all I can hear is the annoying chatter of my coworkers, approximately 15 feet behind me.

CW1: "She's purposely going to defy you if you keep telling her what not to do."
CW2: "She's not going to go off doing her own thing because if she does then I'll just turn it off." (Speaking of a cell phone he recently purchased for his girlfriend)
CW1: "She is going to text message MORE because you tell her not to."
CW2: "Well I bought her the plan so she can't do that. She has to do what I say. Besides, it's like a monkey learning to eat bananas. Why does she need to text? It's a primitive form of communication. You have a phone. Use it -- to speak not type."
CW3: (Joining the conversation because she's aggrivated at the interruption to her own work) "I don't know why you guys are having this conversation. It's apples and oranges. If she wants to text, just let her."
Me via email to CW4 and CW5: "seriously, we're having a whole discussion very silently to ourselves, not bothering anyone. why can't they use email like us?"
CW4 via email to me and CW5: "because they lack all sense of tact and professional courtesy"
CW5 via email to me and CW4: "Oddly, I can't even hear her now. Clearly you guys need me to make you mix CDs."
Meanwhile, a distant coworker whistles loudly.

Why has it come to this? Why should I have to wear headphones at a very loud decibal in order to drown out the personal issues of my coworkers? And who the heck cares if a person chooses to text message instead of call? I personally love text messaging. If you don't want her to do it, then don't freaking buy her a cell phone.

Done. I just solved the world's problems.

Word of the Day: Slugabed

slugabed \SLUHG-uh-bed\, noun:
One who stays in bed until a late hour; a sluggard.

I know at least five people who slept in this weekend until an unreasonably late hour, including myself, due to the feeling of freedom that accompanies a long weekend. I basked in the glory that is President's Day by staying up until 2am and getting up sometime around noon each day. And oh how glorious it was.

But then came Tuesday morning. The obnoxious BLARING of my alarm clock awoke me at an unreasonably EARLY hour, to which I rolled over, sniveling "What day is it? Where am I? Aw crap. I have to go to work." I spent the better part of Monday hanging out at Murky Coffee in Clarendon writing my book and couldn't help but muse that it would be so wonderful to do my own thing everyday, hang out in coffee shops where I recognize the people, and drink yummy soy chai lattes. And yet here I am, at this desk surrounded by a dump truck full of tea to keep me awake and more bacteria on my desk than in the ice cubes at McDonalds.

A friend of mine said to me today "Isn't it weird that you have probably met your husband already....random thought...(are you going to discuss this random thought in your blog??)...." This is a male friend, by the way. Not a typical thing for a male friend to point out. So I did some research. The odds were actually pretty good that he's correct.

Sixty-three percent of married couples meet through a network of friends.

In Washington, D.C., a whopping 70 percent of the population is single

There are 86 unmarried men for every 100 unmarried women, although in some regions the gender ratio favors women, especially out west. Paradise, Nevada, a suburb 10 miles from Las Vegas, has 118 unmarried men for every 100 unmarried women. Other cities where gals got it good include Austin, Texas; Fort Lauderdale, Florida; Tempe, Arizona; and Sunnyvale and Santa Ana, California. A coincidental bonus for women thinking of relocating: All of these cities are sunny and warm. (I guess moving to Tucson is a good idea after all.)

Only 9 percent of women and 2 percent of men say they've found a relationship at a bar or club. You're better off hitting on cuties at Starbucks.