Friday, December 28, 2007

Love and Hate

Hello friends and enemies, it is me, BrokeInDC, back from a brief hiatus. The holidays always throw me off. Here is a little tid-bit to tide you over.

Things I Hate to Love

  • Dancing with the Stars
  • Gold shoes
  • Starbucks peppermint mochas
  • Leggings
  • Animal print clothes
  • Roseanne
  • Abbrev's
  • The scrolling marquee screen saver
  • Pictures/videos of funny cats

  • Star Wars
  • Lord of the Rings
  • Novelty clothing
  • Cheese

Things I Love to Hate
  • Loud talkers
  • Dogs dressed like people

(Isn't this the stupidest friggin thing you've ever seen)
  • Uggs
  • Pedestrians
  • Children that are not related to me
  • Puffy coats
  • Generic cell phone ring tones
  • Interrupters
  • People who talk on their cell phone excessively in social situations
  • Loud breathers
  • Velvet sweat suits
  • Camouflage

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Cereal Girl

Drumroll please...

Sistah girl has decided to grace my blog with her presence by writing a guest post. She told me this story the other day, and I knew I had to have her write a post about it.


Last Friday I was in the midst of a long day in an attempt to finish xmas shopping. I realized that I was really hungry so I ventured into Panera to satisfy my belly. When I walked, in I noticed that it was extremely busy and immediately began to scan the restaurant for an open seat. In one of the far discarded corners of the room a girl was sitting at a table by herself and appearing to be enjoying what I thought was a bagel. All of the tables surrounding her were empty, so I thought to myself "That looks like a nice quiet girl, I will sit close to her b/c I'm by myself too".

So after I got my soup and sandwich I wandered over to the corner and seated myself at a table. I noticed as I walked by her and sat down, the girl didn't even look up. She appeared to be too engrossed in the magazine she was reading. After a few minutes of sitting and enjoying my chipotle chicken sandwich (which was quite tasty) I decided I would look at my neighbor and give her a friendly smile, but once I got a closer look I realized that she wasn't eating a bagel....she was eating cereal straight out of the box with her hands.

I continued to survey her and her belongings noticed that she had multiple boxes of opened cereal that she had apparently been eating. I say this because each box was torn open as if she just couldn't wait one second longer and didn't see the point in opening the box the proper way. She also had an enourmous duffle bag and an empty grocery bag from Trader Joe's (which was where I'm assuming she purchased her cereal). She was just sitting there at a table in Panera, blatantly stuffing handfuls of organic cereal from Trader Joe's into her mouth and intently reading a fashion magazine.

I sat at the table next to her for 20 minutes and watched her, she NEVER once looked up and noticed me staring at her. For the 20 minites I was there she picked up each box and shoved several large handfuls of cereal into her mouth. It appeared that she had been sitting there awhile too, because the floor around her was covered in cereal crumbs and she had an empty bottle of water sitting on the table. She hadn't even purchased anything from Panera! She simply went to the grocery store down the street, bought a few boxes of organic cereal, a magazine and decided to then go to Panera and enjoy her purchases.

At one point she got up to go to the bathroom and as she walked away with her cheeks stuffed with cereal (she looked like a chipmunk), she kept wiping cereal reminants off of her face and clothes. I sooo wished that someone had been there with me to see this, it was very bizarre.

-Sistah Girl

In A Nutshell...

I started my new job yesterday, and its quite lovely. However, due to said job, I will be unable to post on a regular schedule for a while. I will be trying to post in the evenings, but things are a little hectic at the mo', so I'll do what I can for you good people. Don't fret...I'll still be posting several times a week, so keep visiting my blog, duh.

Thursday, December 13, 2007

The Adventures of StuD

You guys wanna hear more about StuD? I thought so. I have enough stories about him to start a new blog, but that would just be silly.

So many people know that I am simply ridiculous. I make ridiculous decisions, say ridiculous things, have ridiculous stories, and I am also lucky enough to have a ridiculous boyfriend. Now if you think I am entertaining, you should spend an evening with StuD. He is a trip.

Last night StuD surprised me by popping over later in the evening. I was lounging on the couch, eating a bag of popcorn and watching some awful reality television when I heard a knock on the door. Not expecting any guests, I jumped off the couch and peered through the peephole. It was the boyf! I whipped open the door and StuD lumbered in, grinning.

He was dressed like some sort of trendy homeless person. He was wearing this huge hat with ear flaps that I had crocheted for him (yes, I am crafty, thank you), a Jcrew sweatshirt with a faux hood, gray slacks, and brown leather square-toed shoes. His face was scruffy from lack of shaving (its exam week). He sat down in my living room, opened my laptop, and said, "There is this GREAT Trisha Yearwood song I have to play for you."

What? I literally was speechless. Trisha Yearwood? Really?

StuD has recently been dabbling in country music. I knew it was bad news when he started casually scanning the country radio stations when we were in the car. And now he absolutely loves Trisha Yearwood. He played me a selection of her songs, bopping his ear-flapped head along to the music, with a big grin on his face. He even did this little point-and-shoot dance move thing with his hands during a particularly catchy part of "She's in Love with the Boy".

After getting his fill of Trisha Yearwood, I convinced him that we should turn it off so we could watch Project Runway. He half-heartedly complains about watching that show, but I think he really likes it, just because he can do his crappy impression of Tim Gunn, where he just says "Designers!" over and over again. If he tries to say anything else in a Tim Gunn voice he sounds like a weird British person.

So we watch Project Runway, with the occasional "Designers!" from StuD peppered in. After the show he starts to study for his Orbital Navigation exam (yes, StuD is studying to become a rocket scientist...true story). Suddenly he looks up from his book, "You wanna hear something really weird that happened to me during an interview?" he asked.

Of course I do!

He went on with his story...

"Remember when I interviewed with XYZ company a few weeks ago? Well, I didn't want to tell anyone about this, cause I felt really weird about it...but during the interview, the guy I was interviewing with re-situated know, like guys do. And so I stared at his crotch, because he had just re-situated it. I didn't mean to! But he totally saw me. It was like, I dunno, getting caught staring at a girls breasts while you're talking to her. So from then on the whole interview was uncomfortable and I felt really weird."

At this point I was laughing uncontrollably. I could just imagine StuD in his interview, all happy and confident because it is going great. But then for a second, he happens to stare at the wrong spot and get caught. I'm sure he looked like a deer in headlights. His eyes get really big when he is caught in some sort of bad act. For example, when he is trying to secretly eat my food, and I hear the crinkling of food packaging so I walk in the kitchen. He jumps out of the pantry real quick, his cheeks bulging a bit, stuffed with food, eyes wide as if to say, "What? I'm totally innocent and I am NOT eating your food." And then he smirks, cause he knows he is caught.

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Step in Time

So lets talk about Mary Poppins. Love that movie, but when I watched it last night on ABC Family, I forgot how weird it was.

This is what StuD had to say about the movie:

"Its a demonic movie about the hardships of the children."

What? Are we talking about the same movie? Those kids have a nanny that sings them beautiful songs and cleans up the nursery with the snap of her fingers. That woman is a dream.

But she is also really vain and in love with herself. When she firsts arrives and starts to unpack her magic carpet bag, the woman whips out TWO mirrors: one gigantic mirror for the wall so she can "see all of my face at the same time" and one hand mirror. And then there is her description on the tape measure she measures Jane and Michael with. Her measurement reads "Mary Poppins. Practically perfect in every way." After she reads it out loud, she smiles sweetly as if to say "Duh, of course I'm perfect." And then when they jump into the sidewalk chalk painting, she wins that freakin' horse race sitting side-saddle on a carousel horse. Rosy-cheeked beeyotch.

But lets talk about some other aspects of the movie. What's the deal with the man who lives next door to the Banks' and shoots a cannon off his roof every hour. The "admiral" has recreated a ship deck on his roof, apparently not over the fact that he used to be a boat captain or something. He is also quite knowledgeable about the weather. Even though the man shoots a cannon off his roof, I would take him over Mr. Wilson any day.

Another interesting character is the man who loves to laugh. Uncle Albert. Whose uncle is he? They call him Uncle Albert, but I really do not think that Jane, Michael, Mary Poppins, or Burt are his nieces or nephews. In my opinion, it is bad news if a man prefers to be called "Uncle" and he is no one's uncle. In any case, he loves to laugh. And float on the ceiling. Drugs must be involved.

And then they go to the bank. Good heavens, the bank and the goddamn tuppins. Michael just wanted to feed the birds, but no. Those rickety old bankers attacked that little boy for his tuppins. But if I were Michael, I sure as hell would not want to feed the birds. That bird lady with her deep, hollow "Feed the birds, tuppins a bag" always freaked me out. And those birds are crawling all over her! Birds are disgusting, and terrifying. Michael, I think you should keep your tuppins.

My sister and I grew up loving Mary Poppins. We used to watch it in our sweet gigantic conversion van, eating chicken nugget happy meals. How charmingly Midwest. We also used to stomp around our living room shaking sticks, dancing along to "Step in Time." Best number of the movie, I say. God, I wanted to be a chimney sweep so bad.

Monday, December 10, 2007

Airborne Rabies

During my time in college I discovered that Airborne, the herbal health formula that is supposed to boost your immune system during flights, is an excellent hangover remedy. My path to this discovery was an adventure.

Last year I went out with my friends just before Christmas break. End of exams, no homework, woo hoo. Needless to say, we partied a little too hard and I still felt a little rough around the edges the next morning when I got to the airport to catch a flight home to Ohio. I also was beginning to feel a cold coming on, so I figured I better grab some cold-eez or something to deter my sickness. The airport convenience store did not have any cold-eez, but they did have Airborne. I briefly skimmed the package, saw that it would help me "combat germs" and promptly bought it. Assuming it was some sort of pill I was supposed to take before the flight, I headed towards the drinking fountain by the bathrooms. I opened the box and pulled out the small tube containing the Airborne. I popped the top, pulled out a giant tablet, and thought, "Hmmm...these must be like giant Tums. I guess I don't need to swallow anything, just chew it." I popped one in my mouth chomped down hard.

Big mistake.

Airborne tablets are not "giant Tums". They are effervescent tablets, that you are supposed to drop in a glass of water. As soon as they touch anything wet, they begin to effervesce. A lot.

The moment the tablet touched my tongue, chaos ensued. The tablet was effervescing everywhere and foam was spewing out of my mouth, making me look like I had a raging case of rabies. I panicked, wide eyed and gurgling, and attempted to run to the nearby bathroom. Unfortunately I had ALL my luggage with me, which was a huge deterrence. I panicked even more, because everyone knows at the airport you are not supposed to leave luggage unattended! I threw caution to the wind and ran towards the bathroom, my wheeling suitcase dragging on its side, my coat flying behind me and my giant tote bag jostling all over the place, all the while foaming at the mouth. Its a good thing there was no one in my way, and that the drinking fountain was fairly close to the restrooms.

I reached the bathroom sink, dropped my luggage, and spit out the fizzing tablet. I was shocked. "What the hell kind of Tums are these?!" I thought to myself as I glanced down at the small tube still clutched in my hand. I finally took the time to properly read the directions: Drop one effervescent tablet into 4 to 6 ounces of water, let fully dissolve (about 1 minute) and drink.

I went and bought myself a bottle of water and everything was fine. After correctly drinking a dose of Airborne, I felt great. Hydration + Airborne = even greater success.

Thursday, December 6, 2007

Etiquette and Resignation

So what is the proper etiquette for Holiday Parties? I'm talking about what to wear, how much to drink, who to invite, what to serve, how to be a good guest, what to do at the office party...etc. I was discussing this today on the wondrous G-chat with my friend Hurricane. We had come across the topic of Holiday Party invitations, and how one should react to not being invited to a party. She recounted her reaction to an ice-skating party she was not invited to in the third grade:

Hurricane: "Oh Suzy, did my invitation to your ice-skating party get lost in the mail? 'Cause I know you would have invited me."

Hurricane is one of my favorite people. Her shrewd humor was demonstrated as a mere third grader, sarcastically commenting on an invitation to an ice-skating party.

Once when I was in first grade, all my friends were whispering about going to "Jane's" birthday party. I had not received an invitation. When I asked her about it, she told me she "ran out of invitations". I was crushed that the local pharmacy had sold out of birthday invitations...what rotten luck.

Ok, so the next part of my blog is going to be, well, quite descriptive. But the description is necessary to properly convey the situation. So be warned that you may discover some revealing information about me. But I'm willing to do it for a laugh. Enjoy.

Today I resigned from my job.

I was extremely nervous about having to tell my supervisor that I had found a new job and was leaving. Someone else had just resigned earlier this week, so it was just like a second beating over the head for my employer that an additional person was leaving as well. I had been thinking about it all morning, which didn't help my nervousness.

When I get nervous, I tend to smile a lot. I'm talking shit-eating grin. I think everything is hysterical, even in the most inappropriate situations. I try my hardest to keep a straight, sober face, but I can never manage it and always end up looking messed up in the end. My mind is telling my face to act normal, but my nerves are telling it to smile. It never works out.

Also when I get nervous, I tend to sweat a lot, generally in the pit areas. I am normally a dry person, but when I get really nervous, the glands open. I think this is a fairly common nervous symptom, no big deal.

Red splotches around my neck also come along with my nervousness. And when I drink. I have very pale, sensitive skin so any strong change in mood or similar situation tends to affect the color of my neck.

And the final, most embarrassing thing that happens only when I get extremely nervous: I tend it delicately...I tend to break wind. Yes, I said it. Now we're not talking rip roaring situations, we're talking silent situations. One may notice an odd essence, I would say.

So, when I finally was able to go talk to my boss, I was terrified of the state I was in. I imagined myself from his perspective: a grinning, sweaty, smelly, splotchy mess sitting in front of him, perched uncomfortably in the office chair. My face was probably twisting between grin and scowl in my attempt to look normal, and I was terrified to open my mouth, because I knew a loud peal of laughter would most likely come out of it. I'm sure it was terrifying for him.

Disclaimer: Just so you know, I generally have enough composure to hide these unfortunate ailments that affect me during nervousness. I'm sure I didn't look that least I hope...

P.S. When I was googling a synonym for the word "Fart", a colleague came up to my desk before I could successfully minimize the screen. Damn.

Wednesday, December 5, 2007

Commute Adventure

The other day I was enjoying a leisurely drive home from know, heavy DC traffic makes for a "leisurely" drive. My typical commute home includes navigating the nightmare that is the Capital Beltway, or 495/95, whatever you wish to call it. It is my joy every day to drive on the Beltway right into the Woodrow Wilson Bridge bottleneck. For those of you who do not live in the DC area, the Woodrow Wilson Bridge spans the Potomac River, linking Maryland and Virginia. Because this bridge is so vital for people traveling in and out of DC into Maryland on their daily commute, it has inevitably become a huge traffic "problem area". They are expanding the bridge to allow traffic to flow more freely through this area. I'm quivering with excitement for the bridge to be completed...if it does really help out with traffic, that is.

As I was saying, the other day I was relishing my daily jaunt home from work, and what did I see on the congested Beltway but a man on a BICYCLE. Yes a typical bicycle commuter, complete with rolled up suit pants, helmet, sporty backpack, and a tie flapping in the wind. He was just biking along, as if it was his daily routine to bike on the expressway around DC.

Does this man have a death wish?

Yeah, sure, traffic goes pretty slow during that time of day, but COME ON. Semi-trucks, crazy businessmen, soccer moms, snipers...anything can be found on the DC Beltway, so why the hell would you ride your BIKE on it?

I happened to be on the phone with my friend EB at the time, and mid-conversation about her holiday party I cried out, "There's a business man on a bike on the beltway! A BUSINESSMAN, ON THE BELTWAY, ON A BIKE!"

We laughed about it a bit, but I soon passed him (strongly resisting the urge to swerve out of my lane to run him down). I continued my convo with EB in the stop-and-go traffic. I had finally reached the bridge, and once again, I saw the man on the bike.

I cried into the phone, "There he is again! The business biker! ON THE WOODROW WILSON BRIDGE!"

Not only was traffic so slow that a man on a BICYCLE was beating me home, but he was bicycling on the BRIDGE. There is no bike path! Crazy man.

For your reference, I have skillfully recreated the scenario using the latest in Paint technology:

Now, you must understand that this photo, while it generally shows the current state of bridge construction, it DOES NOT demonstrate the amount of traffic that is on it during rush hour. I'm talking bumper to bumper, jam-packed the whole way across the bridge. And this genius was riding his bike through it.

Monday, December 3, 2007

Voicemail from...?

So this morning I rolled into work, ready to start the week, and noticed the little red light on the phone in my luxuriously spacious cube was blinking. Egads, I had a voice mail. (And by luxuriously spacious I mean uncomfortably cramped)

But who would be calling me over the weekend and leaving me a message on my work phone? What could this person possibly want? A favor, a sales call...for heaven's sake who was calling me?

It was Melisse...and she wanted to come over to play with my boys and spend the night. At least that's what the message said.

Now, I do not know who Melisse is, nor how old she is. She sounded about 6 or 7 to me. She had a very quiet babyish voice, and I could hear her mother in the background helping her through the message. Too bad her deficient mother neglected to make sure she dialed the correct number.

I also do not have any boys, or ANY children for that matter, for Melisse to play with as she requested. I especially do not want her to come spend the night.

The message went like this (as soon as I heard it I replayed it so I could type it down word for word):

Little girl's voice: Hey can you pick me up so I can play with your boys and stay the night.

Mom whispering to little girl in the background:
Who are you?

Little girl's voice:
I'm Melisse. Its Melisse, and I want to play with your boys and come over to sleep **long pause** to come over and sleep. Bye. click.

After listening to the message, I looked around confused as if the message would have been directed at another person in my office. Surely Melisse was not calling me.

Unfortunately I had turned off my phone manager over the weekend, so I was unable to check the number to call Melisse back to tell her: No, I will not pick you up; and No, you cannot play with my boys; and No, you cannot come spend the night. I would then ask to speak with her mother, and tell to teach Melisse how to correctly dial a telephone.

Actually no, I hope I hear from Melisse again. It made my Monday that much more interesting.