fishindsea

happy

2010-06-27T18:17:00.021-04:00

Things that make me happy (right now).

1) the secret (or maybe not so secret) is OUT! My friend Michaele Salahi is one of the Real Housewives of DC and you just might see yours truly in a few episodes ;) I filmed a lot this past fall with Michaele and the other wives, so we shall see... let me know if you spot me. The show premieres Aug 5th! Stay tuned for details about the premiere party, which I'll probably announce on twitter since I am horrible at keeping up with my blog.

*In case you haven't been tuning into bravo, here is the link for the trailer:

http://www.bravotv.com/the-real-housewives-of-dc/videos/dc-is-about-to-get-real

2) I am OBSESSED with this Rebecca Minkoff bag and basically told the boyfriend that not having it in my possession is the one thing that was keeping me from being fully happy. Yep, I said that. Of course he rolled his eyes, but he did mention that he might need to get me a present for putting up with him while studying for the bar exam-- to which I fully agreed.

Here is the link to the bag since I am not a photoshop wizard and can't figure out how to post a picture of it...(tell me you are not in love with it. ah!!)

http://www.bergdorfgoodman.com/store/catalog/prod.jhtmlitemId=prod54860101&ecid=BGCIFroogleFeed&ci_src=14110944&ci_sku=V0F4Y

3) New place I love: New England. I spent 11 days, including Memorial Day weekend, in Bristol/Providence, Rhode Island and on Cape Cod and Nantucket with the boyfriend and my best friend Anna/her roomie Sarah. We had so much fun exploring, relaxing, and enjoying the beautiful weather- we basically decided that us 4 (well 3 maybe because Matt wasn't in on this convo) could just live together in RI and we'd be happy forever. It was so hard to leave and come back to DC. Here are some pictures from my trip:

Barnstable Harbor on the Cape.

Beach in Barnstable

Boat day

Nantucket

Hanging out in Matt's backyard in Bristol, RI while he & his roomie moved to their new place in Providence. What a nice boyfriend. Such a FUN girls day!

Boating to Newport. This is the most nautical I have/probably will ever look. I told Matt to enjoy it while it lasted.

Sarah, Anna, and I at the Newport Polo Club. Rain= we took shelter in the trunk.

Prospect Park in Providence

What makes you all happy right now? :)

xoxo L

giada I am not

2010-04-27T09:42:00.006-04:00

Up to this point in my life, I did not (really) cook at all and basically watched the Food Network as an activity when I was hungover and laying in bed on Saturday and Sunday. There is just something about Barefoot Contessa, Paula Deen, and Everyday Italian that is very calming to me. Perhaps it goes back to constantly having the Food Network on as background noise at my college house, Grattan, or maybe it is the soft way that Ina, Paula, and Giada seem to speak to me.

My mom has constantly been telling me that I need to cook... it is healthier, saves money, etc etc. But, it is also a lot of effort and you spend about 2 times longer making dinner than actually eating it. When my parents come to my apartment, they are very perplexed about the complete desert that is my refrigerator. They always ask what I do for dinner being as there is only condiments and two bottles of wine in my fridge at any given time... until now!

Yes Mom, I went grocery shopping on Sunday (for the first time in months) and yes Mom, I cooked Sunday and Monday night... and have pictures to prove it!
Sunday I made guacamole. Okay so maybe this isn't really cooking but more preparing, but my boyfriend said that it was "unbelievable." Again- probably a stretch but it was pretty yummy if I do say so myself. I sent this picture to my mom and she replied with "ew, what is that, it looks like yellow vomit." Thanks Mom, see how often I invite you over for fajita night.
Last night, after an hour long spinning class, I decided to keep the rhythm going and make something healthy for dinner. I marinated chicken in balsamic vinegar, olive oil, pepper, and garlic salt, cooked it, and put it on top of a salad. Again, I forwarded this picture to my mom and woke up to a response of "What is the deal with this domestication?? Not only does it look good, you are saving a ton of money by cooking at home and you will lost weight."

Thanks Mom... really, thanks.

spring has sprung, people!!

2010-04-12T12:55:00.010-04:00

I think the same thing happens to everyone that lives in DC, or at least I hope I am not the only crazy one in this city (I know there has to be more of me). Around mid January, the warmth of the sun is but a distant memory and you wonder why you didn't apply to jobs in Hawaii. As you trudge through the leftover sludge to work, you feel like you may never see blue skies again and you swear that your skin has never been more see through than it is in that moment. You get to your claustrophobic cube and head straight to weather.com. No surprises there, no sun in the near future. You sulk as you throw off your North face and strip off your winter boots for some more appropriate work shoes, and immediately log onto gchat to plan a vacay with your friends- weather above 80 degrees is the only requirement.

Well, guess what?? We made it fellow DC winter weather haters! No more slipping on ice on your way to the metro or your hair turning into icicles because you woke up too late to blow dry your hair. It is now mid April in the District--- maybe one of my favorite times of the year here in the city that I love (and I swear it isn't because my birthday is next Tuesday, April 20th, pinky swear). The humidity hasn't quite set in yet and everyone is so excited about finally seeing some sun that the city is in a constant buzz.. I mean come on, you gotta love it.

So in my usual fashion, I misplaced another digital camera-- I say misplaced because after an intense, wine induced dance party with my entire family at my parents' house on Christmas, I seem to have forgotten where I "hid" my camera. Everytime I go home to my parents, I search in every crevice of my dad's office- the site of the late night dp- hoping that the camera will miraculously appear.

Little Jesus lost and found, make my camera come around. St Anthony, please find my camera. (if you didn't go to Catholic school you are probably lost at this point, so sorry).

Until Little Jesus or St. Anthony decide to reward me for saying my nightly prayers and not drinking soda or eating for all of Lent (ok, ok I may have slipped up on the cheese thing a FEW times... but cheezits don't count-- I will FOREVER stand by that), I will be capturing DC's spring happenings/my mishaps and adventures/pretty flowers via blackberry camera-- which isn't surprisingly terrible quality I might add.

Thus, I begin....

The Washington Monument in all its glory

Sweet seats at the Nationals game (hopefully we won't suck ALL season)

Perfect weather for pitchers of Margs

playing at the Georgetown waterfront-- almost TOO convenient now that Allison and I are DC residents

Gtown Lacrosse games--- i die. why didn't JMU have a guys' lax team? UGH! (kidding, boyfriend)

Cherry blossoms and the monuments from the boat on the Potomac

Springtime in DC= sweet concerts.

my hood is SO beauteous these days
I can now wear obnoxious nail polish colors and I don't have to apologize (yet I would like to apologize for my man hands... I'll refrain from posting pictures of them ever again).

I'm sure you will all see me bopping around town, so until then, cheers! xoxo L

2010-03-30T11:43:00.000-04:00

So since I am unusually horrible at keeping up with this blog, I decided that I am going to take a different approach. I am going to write shorter but more frequent entries so that I actually do it.

Since I am a DC native and am currently living in Georgetown, I am going to focus my attention on what is going on in the city right now and things/places/people that must be checked out!

Here goes nothing!

2009-12-10T13:43:00.016-05:00

I guess its time for my monthly (or every other month at this point) blog entry. Since my last post, there has not really been too much going on in my life (that I want to share on the www) or in the world (that I am knowledgeable enough to write on) until now.

The Wednesday before Thanksgiving I had just arrived at my parents' house for the Holiday and ran down to the family room, flipping through the news in order to avoid my mother's cleaning to do list (those are awful, let me tell you). Suddenly, I stopped on a breaking news story and took a double take... was that Michaele? woah wait, and is that Tareq? I called my mom in to see what I saw and she was as equally confused as I was. My friends, Michaele and Tareq, were being described as White House Party Crashers.

I immediately knew that something wasn't right and that some part of the story was missing. I know them well, and I know for a fact that they would not just show up randomly at the White House, hoping to get in. The chance of being turned away from the dinner would be way too embarassing for anyone. Believe me, I have hung out with them many times and gone to many different events with them... I know that they plan last minute and always have contacts who invite them for these special occasions. I had no doubt in my mind that they had been corresponding with someone who had mentioned an invite for them to the State Dinner. Plus, it made sense for them to be there because their polo cup in June is vs. India and that was who the State Dinner was honoring. Also, a few months ago they spent weeks in India, visiting with the people and the ambassador there. I remembered this visit because Michaele had told me how hard it was for her to see the conditions in which these people had to live and how it had taught her so much about what we all have.

As you can imagine, my emotions after seeing this report ranged from confusion to anger to sadness. I was confused as to the event in general that had taken place- party crashing? No way (sidenote: Michaele doesn't even drink- hasn't had a sip of alcohol in years- so to associate her with crashing a party is kind of humorous). Also, I was confused because I did not understand why it was such a big deal that they put pictures of them with the VP of the US, Katie Couric, etc on Facebook. If I had attended a big dinner like that and had the opportunity to meet all of those wonderful people, you bet that I would capture those moments in pictures and put them on Facebook to share with my friends and family. When I worked backstage at the Inauguration concert, I had a whole album of pictures with people such as Garth Brooks, Bruce Springsteen, and Bon Jovi and you better believe I put them on Facebook to show the people in my life what an awesome experience it was. I had nothing to hide, and neither did the Salahis that night at the White House.

Also, I was angry. Angry because the media was being so quick to judge. What about the Secret Service? Weren't they to blame for letting these alleged "uninvited" guests in? It was only later, after Michaele and Tareq had been bashed again and again in the media, that the Secret Service was also brought into this issue. I was happy when the real problem was finally being addressed- no matter who they were, people who were supposedly not on a "list" were let into the White House. However, it was too late and my friends' lives were already being destroyed.

Lastly, I was sad. Here it was, the day before Thanksgiving, and I knew that the Salahi's were not going to have a good holiday, spending time with their families. They were going to be coping with the obsessed media that was thriving off of this story that wasn't even initally centering on the problem at hand: lack of security at the White House. They were being stalked, literally. They were going to be scorned, laughed at, defriended by so many. As soon as I saw the story, I knew that I was going to stand up for them until I had reason not to. They had always been kind to me and the best of friends in the worst of times.

At that point, in my eyes, they were the people that I had just spent a beautiful, relaxing day with at the vineyard Tareq used to own. They were not evil party crashers, attempting to get into the White House in order to become famous and make it onto a reality show. If only the judgers knew how untrue that really is. Sadly, for several reasons, I can't comment on that further, but lets just say that people have it all wrong.

Despite what has been written and what people are saying, Michaele is her real name, they do no live in hotels but in a home together (NOT at Oasis), and his mother is definitely not the friendliest person around (I know having met her multiple times)- hence the lawsuits and countersuits. Tareq still has a great relationship with his dad, the cutest little old man whom I love. Their other cases that are open concerning money they owe, etc, I can not comment on, because I don't discuss that stuff with them. However, I do know that they are in the process of sorting that all out and it will definitely be interesting. Remember- there are ALWAYS two sides to a story.

I have talked to Michaele and Tareq several times since that night when I first saw them on the news. They are holding up, but they are definitely very saddened by all of this. You can think what you want about them and the situation, and even of me for standing by them- I could care less. I just wanted to give you my take on the situation. Thanks for reading this if you stuck with me through the whole rant.

to 26.2 or not to 26.2?

2009-10-28T08:50:00.006-04:00

Of course I have been slacking on the blogging once again, but I found a little downtime at work today so here I am.

I need your guys help! I have been having a dilemma for the past few days since I attended (attended is the key word... not participated in) the Marine Corps Marathon:

My cousin's husband, Mike, was running in it-- his second marathon-- and we always tend to make it a huge family reunion when one of our own is braving the 26.2 mile trek. So we all woke up at 6am to secure our parking spot and places at the starting line. As we waited, hoping to catch a glimpse of Mike running by in his orange tshirt, black shorts, and black visor (we made sure to take note of his exact outfit so as to have a tiny chance of spotting him in the masses of 30,000 runners), I was in awe at those who started before the actual runners: those people who were unable to run and were using the handicap bikes, using only their hands to keep them moving. I literally teared up when I saw them start the race. It doesn't take much for me to tear up these days- elderly people, homeless people, CSI commericals- but this was a real doozy. A soldier with no legs, a woman with only one leg and one arm, and a older man with all appendages but an apparent disability were all about to tackle the 26.2 mile journey using nothing but their hands to pedal their bike. At that instant, all I could think was- "I am pathetic." Seriously, if these people who have already gone through so much in their lives can compete in such a race, then what am I doing with my life?

...& there lies the dilemma. I feel like I should take advantage of my health and my youth, suck it up, and start the journey. The most I think I have ever run in my entire life is a 10k, which I ran during my senior year of college to raise money for my deceased Aunt's scholarship fund. Since then, I have somewhat dreaded running in any race and have essentially avoided the treadmill and my new balances altogether. (don't judge me too much- I graduated from college in 2008, so it wasn't THAT long ago that I ran the race... and besides that, it was in the SPRING of 08). OKAY I'm lazy. Its settled.

I have a year to train if I am going to participate in the Marine Corps Marathon, so I need to make a decision pronto. Input is needed asap. If you would like to train me or run in it with me or even give me some pointers, by all means please do. The Marine Corps 10k, on the same day as the marathon, is looking all too tempting, but I might just go for the big one. You will just have to wait and see.

My family with Mike, post marathon.

Body Issues? None for DC United.

2009-10-08T13:09:00.012-04:00

Have you ever dreamed of seeing the whole DC united team naked?

Well thanks to ESPN magazine, this fantasy can soon be a reality. Tomorrow, their "Body Issue" will be on stands and the area's favorite soccer team will be pictured in the buff.

My boyfriend just forwarded me an article from NBC Washington website called "United We Strip" since our friend Bryan Namoff is featured in the piece. (Wait... that makes him sound gay and I promise you that he is not). He forwarded me the article because he thought that Iiiii would enjoy the photo. It is really funny to see that Bryan is included in the picture of six soccer players, completely naked and placing their hands in an assuming position. The cliche move would be to have the soccer ball playing a role in covering some parts (I think...right. I swear I have seen that done before)? I wonder how Nadine, Bryan's wife, feels about this shot?

Bryan is second from left, with a classic expression on his face.

(http://www.usatoday.com/sports/2009-09-28-espnmag-body-issue_N.htm)

Aside from these United players, their issue also features gymnast & Dancing With The Stars Winner Shawn Johnson. Anyone else find it semi-strange that Shawn Johnson is included? She is definitely an awesome athlete, but is she even 18?She doesn't look a day past 14 to me. She's definitely going to get carded until she is at like 28. Lucky bia. Regardless, her inclusion in the issue= still creepy. But, not as bad as this picture that I found in a Google image search of Shawn's picture for the Body Issue:

Enough said.

The Girls of Madison

2009-10-05T12:33:00.003-04:00

Not sure if I completely agree with the way that these girls from my alma mater are being portrayed, but I guess if you got it, flaunt it.. right? Plus, the proceeds are going to the SPCA and (once approved) JMU's SafeRides program.

http://www.thegirlsofmadison.com/

Adrienna, Anne, & Gab on pages 1, 3, and 8 are my sorority sisters... and the best looking in the calendar, I think. But I am probably just biased..

Go girls :) Miss you!

Inn at Little Washington

2009-10-01T09:01:00.009-04:00

Last night, my friend Megan and I drove out to literally the middle of nowhere to a little slice of heaven called The Inn at Little Washington. It was our good friend Michaele's birthday so we took the journey to share her day with her. If it had not been for the typical bumper to bumper traffic that occurs in DC anywhere from 3-8pm every weekday, we could have made it there in an hour... but no. We made it in about 2.. and that is probably being generous. However, when we finally arrived at our destination, it was BEAUTIFUL and we were relieved.

Probably the highlight of the evening was when Michaele decided it would be a good idea to take the trick candle (that would obviously not blow out) and attempt to put it out on the antique table while smushing it with her new Jimmy Choo heels from her husband... always thinking, M!!! :)

So, due to a minor casualty (aka my camera breaking), I sadly did not get any pictures of the gorgeous place. However, Google image pulled through as usual and located some pictures that capture the beauty of the place.

This is a picture of the gardens outside the restaurant that you walk through to get to the guesthouse. It is so peaceful there in the middle of the country that I would just love to sit on those white chairs and have a glass of wine with a friend.

This was what I saw as soon as I exited the garden... the guest house where there is a waiting list of years to stay in the suites. We had cake and champagne here for Michaele's birthday and then hung out in the master bedroom for an impromptu photoshoot with all of the girls.

Lastly, this is the Chef/Owner Patrick O'Connell who was so gracious to us and kept checking in on us to make sure we were having the best dining experience possible. He really made us feel at home there.

Anyway, just wanted to share from pictures from my evening and document my current obsession... I want to go back there for dinner every night (well only if I could be teleported , that is). The women that I was sitting with at dinner told that if a man is the right one, he will bring me to the Inn at Little Washington. So here I am, waiting... :)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MICHAELE.

"Horny for Zorny"... not anymore-ny

2009-09-29T09:30:00.006-04:00

empty stadium.. post game

Poor Redskins (and everyone who decided it would be a great idea at some point in their lives to get a visible Redskins logo tattooed on their body)...

This was my view from our suite last Sunday when the Skins squeaked out a W against the Rams... I believe this could potentially be what the stadium looks like for the rest of the season ( fan-less) if the Redskins don't get their stuff together!

Time will tell... I wish them all the best!

Thoughts/Questions/Well-wishes?

P.S. the "Horny for Zorny" phrase was obviously not original. It was borrowed from the Sports Junkies & is engraved in my skull after listening to them in the car rides to JMU/ roadtrips with my dad.

check out the apparel... they are also offering a "get rid of him" logo

http://stores.colorworkspromotions.com/TheFan/HFZ/

whirlwind

2009-09-28T14:31:00.006-04:00

I am back to my blog. Swear. Last time I will ever leave you for this long.

So obviously, I am horrible at keeping up with this and have almost given up completely and decided that I would just use twitter as my online journal. However, I am not quite ready to throw up the white flag just yet.. I think I still have more to offer. So here I am, back to fill you in on my life and the DC happenings as I fit into them.

Let me just say that my life has been a whirlwind since I last wrote. I have been busy busy moving into my new Georgetown apartment, bartending (well kind of... more on that later), working for Uncle Sam, and going to events all around town, such as Redskins game, salon openings, and fundraisers.

I WISH that everything that I dealt with at work did not have to be confidential because the stories I've gathered are some AMAZING blog material. But, so as to not lose my job/only source of income right now, I must abstain from sharing that dirt.

So here I am, back in action. (I like recapping it for you this way... so much easier):
In the past month I have:

-lost my Tory Burch clutch
-found my Tory Burch clutch (well it was slipped through my door's mail slot three weeks later- still confused)
-killed my camera (think that is number 7 at least)
-become a DC resident
-watched a Redskins game from the owner's suite
-eaten 5 guys five too many times
-met Hulk Hogan (no joke. and have pictures to prove it)
-celebrated o.y.a with the bf.

Way more to come. (with hopefully less losing/ruining my belongings). Regardless, I won't be MIA ever again.

Sidenote: some interesting news on the horizon. Stay tuned.... (you won't be disappointed)

its been awhile.

2009-08-20T13:24:00.006-04:00

I did not realize that I have not written on my blog since July 10th and now I am mad at myself!

Since my last post, I have started working at the bar George in Georgetown. Here are some links so you can check out the bar that I will now be frequenting (sober) on the weekends:

The Scene Bisnow
(Featuring yours truly if you scroll down to the middle of the article).

http://www.bisnow.com/washington_dc_the_scene_news_story.php?p=5120

Review from K Street Kate

http://www.kstreetkate.net/2009/08/by-george.html

The bar is list only but if you are not on it already, let me know and I will put you on it :)

I have nothing else interesting to say today... sorry. Quite a boring entry.
OH actually... I just bought a homeless man a treat from Starbucks. He said that he could not have coffee because then he would be in the bathroom all day, so instead I purchased him a double chocolate brownie-- which I really wanted for myself... but kept thinking WWJD and WWJMD (what would Jillian Michaels [want me to] do?)

until next time I remember to post,

Lauren

perfect motto

2009-07-10T13:34:00.000-04:00

"If you're not wearing a party hat, dancing shoes, or your birthday suit, you're wasting your time. We only get one crack at this. Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive & well preserved body, but rather skid in sideways, champagne in one hand & strawberries in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out & screaming, "woo-hoo, what a ride."

Couldn't have written it better myself :) Happy Friday, everyone!

2009-07-06T17:03:00.010-04:00

If you know me at all, you know how much I adore the elderly. Some people may find it strange, but I can't help it. Its not because I don't have my own grandparents... I do.. 5 of them to be exact. I just love talking to them, making them smile, hearing their stories, and simply being their friends. I don't care if they don't remember be the next time I come to visit or even in ten minutes after speaking with me. I just like to listen to them and show them that someone still cares about them. So that's just me. Take it or leave it.

Ever since I can remember, I have been volunteering at assisted livings home. In the summers during high school, I would call bingo for them every night, go grocery shopping with them, and even eat lunch with them in their "apartments." In college, I adopted a grandmother from a local retirement home and visited her weekly, sending her presents/letters during the holiday when I was away. Although I have lost contact with her now, I think about her once and awhile and hope that I brought a bit of joy into her life when I visited her.

Now that I am settled into my job and life in general, I decided to get back into volunteering. I found a nice assisted living home (metro accessible obvi) in Ballston that was more than willing to have me come volunteer whenever I want. The activities director has welcomed me with open arms since the day I first came in to speak with her about volunteering. Every time I come in now, she gives me the biggest hug.

As corny as it sounds, I really do enjoy going there. I have made so many new friends:

Milly- the lady with the strong Baltimore accent and the one that tries to set me up with her grandson every chance she gets, even though I have told her time and time again that I have a boyfriend;
Doris- she has the coolest earrings, for every season, holiday, anything you could imagine. She gave me her sweater to borrow on Saturday when I was freezing in my sundress while visiting them. I could see her as my own grandmom;
Lillian- she asked me four times in one hour what my necklace (a wing) stood for. I told her four times that my best friend gave it to me for Christmas. She gave the same blank smile each time;
Kathleen- she is the oldest resident in home and won't let me leave her apt until she has successfully returned to her wheelchair from the bathroom "in case she falls on herself on the slippery floor." The directors at the home say she just doesn't want to be alone. That is fine. No one does.

I could go on and on about the wonderful people I have already met in my short time volunteering there. They have told me stories upon stories of growing up and growing old and never settling. I'm not sure if they realize what an impact they have on me from our day to day conversations.

I laid in bed last night just thinking & thinking & thinking about how I could help these people in a bigger way. Plan something that would really cheer them up...Then a dance came to mind. A prom. A "Senior"(Citizen) Prom. Well okay, I would leave out the word citizen. It would be called "Senior" Prom. And unlike at my actual prom, I would not be the Prom Queen, but the head of the Prom Committee.

My head was dizzy with ideas and excitement. I even shook my boyfriend awake to tell him my idea. He just mumbled, "That's cute" and fell back asleep. What he doesn't know is that he has volunteered himself to be the prom night's photographer.

I can't wait to see what earrings Doris has for this occasion :)

If you are interested in helping me plan/donating services/set up/chaperone for the "Senior Prom," please contact me at lauren.schab@gmail.com.

2009-06-18T08:21:00.000-04:00

go to www.askmissa.com and look to the far left under lifestyle. you may see someone you recognize :)

Thanks, Andrea!

storyflirt

2009-06-17T23:06:00.005-04:00

if you know me at all, you know that I love the stories and art of Brian Andreas, or as he and his work are better known- "Storypeople." His prints adorn the walls of my bedroom and I am constantly drawing inspiration from his words.

Christina, blogette for Inspiration Flirtation, has similar feelings toward Brian's work and decided to have people create their own stories, "storyflirts," to post on her blog for all to see.

Here is my attempt at a storyflirt... and it seems appropriate with the upcoming holiday :)

even as he begins to gray, he still has the hair of a frat boy

& i see that same glimmer in his eyes when the band starts playing "shout."

...like i said... attempt.

Brian, I will leave this job to you from now :)

2009-06-16T08:17:00.002-04:00

Today i was reminded again about how alike we all really are.

On my way to work from the metro, I walked by a homeless man. He had both the Express and the Examiner with him, along with his morning coffee. He pulled out the Express first and skipped to the entertainment section.

That is exactly what i do. Every morning. Like clock work. I get both newspapers and sip my coffee as I gleefully skip to the entertainment section of Express.

Repeat it with me.. we are all the same.

We are all the same.

last night

2009-06-10T14:11:00.007-04:00

before i even left work yesterday to get ready for my evening, my best friend bbmed me with "just think...this will be GREAT for your blog." and is it bad that the whole night I was attempting to take major mental notes so i could share my experience with my readers? but sadly, after one too many glasses of dom perignon, the notes seem to have floated into the dark abyss to never ever return ... but we'll get to that later.

anyway, two days ago my friend asked me to bring five of my girlfriends to dinner with the prince of saudi arabia and him. I was confused as to why he even knew the guy, unenthusiastic, and just wanted to get into my bed after work and not move. so, I gave a polite no and went on my way. however, the invitation was extended again yesterday and this time I agreed. so, at about 845 last night, my roommate and i were getting ready to go to dinner with my friend and the prince of saudia arabia.

(pre dinner I googled imaged the prince of saudi arabia, naturally, and came up with an intimidating number of pictures of men with black beards and mustaches that looked quite a bit older than me. my friend assured me that he was just one of twenty of so princes of saudi arabia)

around 9, we pulled up to the Ritz in Georgetown, where the prince was staying, and went inside to wait for them. however, when he came in, he was not alone. there were about 7 other men with him, of all shapes, sizes, and races. There was a large, friendly looking Samoan man and a white guy who was a dead ringer for Nathan Lane (from the Producers).

There were the polite introductions and then we sat down at a table at the hotel bar for a drink. I immediately adored the samoan man when I found out he was born and raised in Hawaii (obviously). He lived on the windward side though but we spoke of Kailua and my obsession with traveling there. Somehow we all got to talking about going out of the country and i was singled out as the only one who did not own a passport! they were baffled that i did not have one.. probably because they were jetsetters. A few were from Saudi Arabia,Qatar,Dubai etc , but now they all resided in London and are in DC on their way to LA and from NY. Like i said, Jet setters.

They said the day that I got my passport they would take me to London in their private jet. Although that was nice, i do not think i will take them up on that offer.

Next, we went to Oya, a really good place to eat near Chinatown. The decorations were fabulous. I was sitting in between my Samoan friend and another guy who looked similar to my results from google image. He was very kind and we shared conversations about work and movies over two large bowls of edamame. I tasted the wine for the whole table (not sure why I was the designated taster... probably because my experience in Napa and Sonoma vineyards....kidding). Anyway, the stories and wine kept flowing the entire night.

Overall, it was very interesting and they were very nice and generous people. i wish i had more direct quotes from the evening, because i know there were quite a few priceless ones. however, like i said before, too much champagne for me.

Sid's pictures

2009-06-01T10:37:00.021-04:00

Since today is a pretty slow day at work and I am having a semi- annoying writer's block as of now, I thought I might do a little promoting for my boyfriend who is an amazing photographer.

Here are some samples of his work (with captions especially picked out by yours truly- from the writing of Brian Andreas). These were all taken in DC this past Spring and I served as his handy assistant for many of the shots.

"Time stands still best in moments that look suspiciously like ordinary life. "

"I have heard too much beauty to ever go back, he said & in that moment, I knew there was no way the children of our world would fail."

"That was the day the ancient songs of blood & war spilled from a hole in the sky & there was a long moment as we listened & fell silent in our grief & then one by one, we stood tall & came together & began to sing of life & love & all that is good & true."

"We lay there & looked up at the night sky & she told me about stars called blue squares & red swirls & I told her I'd never heard of them. Of course not, she said, the really important stuff they never tell you. You have to imagine it on your own."

You can find his blog at: http://sid.pixyblog.com/

Also, you can purchase his prints at: http://www.shutterfly.com/progal/gallery.jsp?gid=768a5498ce7e236522a6

coldplay

2009-05-21T08:50:00.005-04:00

tonight i am going to the coldplay concert with my younger sister and my dad. mind you, this was completely my dad's idea. that line from forty year old virgin keeps swirling around in my mind.

"you know how i know you're gay.... you listen to coldplay."

dad... anything you'd like to tell us? justttt kidding daddio. he has just had 23 years to conjure up/get in touch with his feminine side as he has three daughters and no sons..oh and it is important to note that at some point or another, we had a female dog, girl goldfish and hermit crabs (they had pinks shells, so they were girls of course). in addition, i forget about every summer where we used to have 2 irish exchange students (yes girls, naturally). and on any given friday or saturday, my sisters and I would have at least two friends sleepover.
At some points i can remember it was unfairly uneven.... girls-17, jimmy- 1.

and here we are on the eve of the coldplay concert. my dad's 23 years of being surrounded by (too many) women (all ages, nationalities, species) has culminated to this very concert in Bristol, VA. tonight you will find him sitting on the lawn of Nissan serenading me with "Yellow" and my younger sister undoubtedly rolling her eyes in return. (hint) my mom refused to go.
feel free to interrupt.

2009-05-08T13:03:00.011-04:00

every morning and every afternoon, i catch a glimpse of why the human race utterly amazes me still (in a good way).

On mornings when my boyfriend is not traveling for business, he drives me to work. We always go the same route- 50 to the Roosevelt Bridge. As soon as we take the ramp onto the bridge where the traffic begins, I look expectantly to the guardrail on the left. There, perched on the steel bench, is a homeless man, waving to the agitated morning rush hour drivers and holding up a book, acting like he is reading it. He is the happiest person (homeless or not) that I have ever seen in Washington DC at 8am on a weekday. He is always wearing the same worn out and unwashed clothes, is always holding onto the same booklet, always grinning from ear to ear, and always doing a wave to the crowd of cars passing him. His wave reminds me of what Miss America's does when she is crowned, only a bit more tarnished. Every morning, he is there and every morning i reach across from the passenger seat to make sure he sees me give him a big ol' wave. He literally makes my day and I feel myself smiling the rest of the car ride. He always leaves me wondering though. I wonder how long he has been doing this for (this being the greeter of the Roosevelt Bridge), if he remembers the drivers that pass by the same time every day for years, where he takes shelter when he is not on that trusty guard rail, and what is that booklet he is reading?! I need to know. My boyfriend said we could stop by McDonalds one morning on the way to work and we could treat him to breakfast. My response was obviously "Really??!! Can we??!!" I'm not sure if he was being serious but the thought overjoyed me. I think he deserves a hash brown or two for giving me something to smile about on the way to work.

Now, on mornings that I take the metro into work, there is always the same man on the corner of I and 18th sitting on a bucket and playing a trumpet. He is wearing the finest suit and playing the national anthem for all to hear (a small $1 american flag is also posted up next to him). This man plays that song with everything he has and does it every morning until the commuters are at their desks, toiling away. He has become friends with the people that walk this way to work and I hear him ask about their day/families/work as they throw some spare change in the cup next to him. I walk the rest of the way to work wondering what his story is.

And lastly, whenever I am walking back to the metro after work, the same homeless man is sitting on the curb next to the yellow and white pansies scribbling ferociously into a journal while holding a Starbucks cup for change in his non writing hand. The dirt embedded in his fingers nails is prominent against the white lined pages. Next to him is a sign in the most articulate handwriting I have ever seen- "Please help me get something hot to eat" reads the sign. Of course, the part of me that is a passionate writer travels off into some other world and imagines what he could possibly be so intently logging in that journal day after day after day. I picture his perfect penmanship forming words such as "hungry" "cold" "lonely" and "help" and I wish I could give him something to ease his pain.

I wonder if I was homeless if I would take to writing on the streets, playing my trumpet, or sitting on a guardrail to greet the day's attendees. I'm sure the answer is fairly obvious.

a sad anniversary

2009-05-04T17:26:00.024-04:00

Yesterday I woke up and stopped in my tracks as I noticed the date on my blackberry... May 3, May 3rd, 5/3, 3 May ... why oh why did that date ring a bell? I knew something important had happened on May 3 at some point in my life, but for the life of me, I could not remember what. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, attempted to clear my head, and thought... hard. Then it came back to me... and I instantly wished that it hadn't.

About that same time of the morning exactly a year from yesterday, I was waking up hungover per usual from one too many natural lights the night before and staring bleary eyed at the royal purple ensemble I would have to don in a mere hour under the beating sun on the football field. I remember thinking that this could not be happening. There was no way I had let it slip through my fingers. I remember trying my hardest to fall back asleep and dream away the terrible event that was about to unfold, but there was no use. Doomsday had arrived.

Yesterday was the one year anniversary of my college graduation. Just writing that now gives me the chills and turns my stomach, even makes me tear up a bit.. STILL (pretty sad, huh)? College came and went in what seemed like a week, and here I was a year later, with what to show for it?

I started to think about the past year and what I had really accomplished since departing from good old Harrisonburg, VA just 365 short days ago. I had gotten a job, lost a job (well it was a contract position so not really lost, but for these purposes lost it), ended a bad relationship, started a new good relationship, moved out of my parents' house, survived 4.5 months of unemployment, started a new job, stopped (slowed down) drunk eating, learned how to balance my checkbook, discovered how to cook a basic chicken dinner, developed an appreciation for red wine, and met Steve Carrell, Jamie Foxx, & Garth Brooks.

All in all, I guess you could say that it was a pretty successful year. But without fail, every time I see a picture of my college house or someone even mentions JMU in a sentence, I have the same reaction. Huge grin, heart pounding, best memories of my life so far rushing through my head like a movie trailer... and I want to be back. I must say, this reaction is an improvement from the few months right after graduation. Then, at even just the mention of my alma mater, I would usually fight back tears/not fight them back because I was so devastated about being forced to leave my home and best friends and heaven in Harrisonburg. I am telling you. It was legit torture. I told my parents they would have to rip me off the pillars that held up my college home's balcony to get me out of there. For some reason, I gave in more easily. I now regret that.

We went back to JMU a few weekends ago for Alumni weekend and it happened again. That reaction. As soon as we approached Exit 245 on 81, we all suddenly grew silent as enormous smiles formed on our faces and we squealed like school girls with exhilaration.
We were home again.

Even though it has been a year and I still would love to have had just a little more time in college, I am somewhat relieves knowing that this feeling will never, ever go away. No matter how many years pass until I return, I know that that huge smile will find its way to my lips as soon as Exit 245 is in view.

I do feel somewhat grown up now though, a year later. I have business cards for God's sake. And more importantly, I no longer wake up hungover on Saturday mornings from too many Natty Lights... these days I am sipping on champagne.

just say no to the O

2009-04-16T10:50:00.015-04:00

(this event took place ab a week ago and slipped my mind until just now)

I was in the local grocery store attempting to get my hands on a SmartTrip card because apparently they are impossible to get a hold of in the dc area.
I had finally secured one and was waiting in line with my boyfriend to check out when the cashier nonchalantly decided to invade my personal life while ringing up my smart trip and reese's peanut butter eggs.

Cashier- "You guys look like a great couple... you go good together. Don't ever change, you hear me? Don't change."
I half smiled/laughed in answer and muttered an "ok, thanks, we won't," expecting that to just be his way of making conversation.

But that wasn't the end of that.

Cashier- "You guys married? you should marry her. "- he directs to the bf
Again, the half smiling/laugh of a response was the decided appropriate answer.

Then the cashier decided to include the rest of the grocery store patrons in the conversation.

He gestured at the older couple behind us.

Cashier- "how long you been married?"
They gleefully stated that they had been married for 49 years. The lady then proceeded to wink at me, point to her ring finger, and tell my boyfriend that "he better get me a huge rock."

Lordddddd. get me out of here.

Its not over yet.

The cashier proceeds to tell my boyfriend to not let me watch Oprah.

He said that his wife is from Ghana and there, they are taught to not speak back to their man and to respect then.
Cashier- "But then she comes here, and she starts to watch Oprah, and now she talk back to me!!!"

To this, a real laugh was the response.

Side note : I almost believe him. Oprah is pretty much trying to take over the world. Last night, I was watching the Kathy Griffith show and she was talking about how Oprah single handedly chose our President. She just did. Its a fact. Also, Kathy is very scared of Oprah... and her "friend" Gail, which I can see. They ARE abrasive- think about it.

I wonder if the cashier saw an excerpt of that K. Griffith episode?

Lessons learned:
women watch Oprah= they talk back to their men
Giant cashiers= relationship counselors.
Purchase a smart trip= from a machine.

neither hair nor there

2009-04-08T13:47:00.022-04:00

I distinctly remember the first time I saw one of those little suckers. I was looking at my reflection in the passenger seat mirror of my parents' car, noticing my freckles screaming and hair glistening in the late July sun.

"Wow," I thought to myself, "my hair is getting very blonde this summer."

"Are you using sun in again?" my mom sqwaked, "I told you to not use that stuff.. you will have orange hair. You didn't listen to me once again. You will regret that. "

In usual teenage fashion, I denied all claims against me and told her that I hadn't. My best friend (and partner in all crimes from age 14 to present) and I had merely been experimenting with some innocent lemon juice on those long days of lifeguarding when it seemed like the logical thing to do.

Continuing to inspect my normally brown locks, I started separating my hair into different sections, trying to compare the lightness of each in hopes to figure out which part needed another lemon juice application during my lifeguarding shift the following day. That was when I saw it.

It was too light to be blonde. Maybe it was a stray hair I told myself. Maybe one of those little pieces of fuzz that flies around the air and gets trapped in your eyelashes. I tried to flick it off, but it wouldn't move. I tried to ignore it but it kept springing to my attention. Finally, I separated it from the other hairs and realized what it was.

I was 16. I had gotten my first gray hair.

Now this may not seem like a big deal in retrospect, but at 16, I was petrified. My mother had told me that she started going gray in high school, but I had ignored that. It would skip a generation. It had to, right? But there in the mirror, staring back at me and snickering, was the evidence that it had gone right from my mother to me. No generations skipped. No horror saved.

"Mom.. oh.. my.. god.. I have a gray hair," I said as I tugged it free.

"DONT PULL IT... two more will pop up in its place. I told you this would happen.. I told you I started getting gray hairs at 16," she reminded me. But I had already gotten rid of that pesky thing.

The day I told my (then) 85 year old Grandmother that I had gray hair, she nearly peed her pants. She laughed so hard I thought she might fall of her chair in the kitchen and onto the wood floor right then and there. Perhaps it was because compared to her full head of white hair, I was beautifully brunette. However, they were there, I swore to her. I went to the bathroom, excavated the scene, and uncovered yet another one.

I proudly went over to her, hair in hand, and showed her the sample. With that, she broke out into even louder laughter and pounded on the table to the beat, tears running down her eyes. I let out a huge sigh.. she was just not buying it.

I suppose I should be proud of my random grays. The host of "what not to wear" (I am not going to lie, I love this show) has black hair with a streak of gray in the front. Now that I write this, I am wondering if that streak is even natural, but for these purposes, I will say yes.

7 years later, she still tells her friends about when her teenage grandaughter claimed to be going gray... and manages to bring it up at family dinners all too frequently. On cue, heads turn to catch a glimpse of the spectacle my grandmother describes in detail. I sheepisly grin and run my fingers through my hair (my dad says its my nervous habit), which still manages to be a deep brown with a few touches of "blonde."

I'm sorry... is this a missed connection?

2009-04-03T12:57:00.002-04:00

I fully intend to include my friends and their crazy encounters on this blog, so my friends... prepare yourselves. No one is safe.

So, this is an email my friend received yesterday at work.

Hello Mary (all names are being changed to respect the privacy of all parties involved).
Good morning.
We met last night at the conclusion of the XX Dinner. I introduced myself, extended a compliment and you were quite kind to receive it in the spirit it was offered and chatted.

I would welcome hearing back from you. If so interested, feel free to reply and let me know. We’ll keep it simple. I’ll can walk up to (her office building) and we can grab a bite at the cafeteria and pick up where we left off.

All the best,
Bob (again, this is not really his name).

Now, keep in mind that this man is about twenty years her senior and seems to have been taught to court women in some very outdated town in England.

Needless to say, she has not written back.

So I have this problem...

2009-04-03T10:24:00.023-04:00

I need help, people.
A little too often these days, I find myself waking up in the morning, craving the greasy breakfast menu at McDonalds, always the same three things- a hash brown, sausage biscuit, and vanilla latte (non fat, sugar free, to be exact). Now, to clear some things up, I am not talking about any given Saturday morning around 10:13 am after a night of 9 too many vodka soda-with-a-splash-of-cranberry(s), extra extra lime please & thank you. No no... that would be at least somewhat excusable. I am speaking about the Wednesday mornings around 7am when I walking down 18th street toward my office, with sleep still in my eyes and fighting my eyelids shut, heels clunking deliberately against the uneven pavement, and trying to count in my head the exact number of days, hours, minutes, and seconds until 5pm on Friday. Don't get me wrong though because I really do love my job, I just love the weekend way more. So, during these early am walks, I often pass the local breakfast joints and instantly capture the familiar scent of breakfast sandwiches pouring onto the street and mixing with the early morning dc fog. However, I cannot be fooled. This scent is not that which I then crave.

Now, usually my desires are suppressed for there is no McDonalds in a close proximity to my office. Believe me, I have google mapped it several a time. However, this morning, as my boyfriend was so kindly driving me into work, I randomly blurted out, "I want McDonald's breakfast!" Almost instantly, he took a sharp right turn, so quickly I slid across my seat and hit the right passenger door and window, and he sped down a neighborhood street in the direction of the nearest location.. (as if I had yelled, "I am in labor.. hospital.. hurry!!!"). After nearly causing an accident or two or running over some school children walking to the bus stop, we were on our way to satisfy my craving. At that point, I told him I was kidding and that I didn't really want it. He just rolled his eyes and continued driving there because he knows me too well.

Then I saw it, the golden arches, lit up against the dismal DC morning skyline for all to see. I ran through the rain inside and went right up to the counter, ordering the usual, "one hashbrown , a sausage biscuit, and a non fat sugar free vanilla latte please." (sugar free and non fat, again, obviously to cancel out the other calories that were about to toxify my body so early on in the day). As I was waiting for my order, I tripped over to the condiments station, and I mean literally tripped (I have been wearing the same black flip flops for my commute every day for the past few weeks even though they have been causing me more problems than necessary). Anyway, I was just casually squirting some ketchup into a little container and the next thing I know it is on my fingers, down my pants, and splattered against my newly cleaned and starched white work blouse. I stared down at the massacre in disgust. "I would," I mumbled to myself. A man tapped me on the shoulder right there over the ketchup and mustard dispenser and I looked over, assuming he would probably be asking if I was alright since I was not too quietly speaking to myself. Instead, he said, very nonchalantly, "Miss, I just wanted to tell you how beautiful you are." I literally bit my top lip to stop from laughing, so hard that there is probably still teeth marks five hours later. I just looked into his confused eyes and said thank you and wished him a good day. At that, I spun around swept up my McD's bags and coffee and ran to my boyfriend's car. I could not even open the car door because my hands were full with my feast. As soon as I manuevered my way into the car, I was soaked with rain and there were traces of grease on my once very white white shirt and pants from the bags stocked with fried yumminess. I told my boyfriend what had happened and the man's statement and he just laughed at me, shook his head, and said "I could have told you that" as he took a bite out of a hash brown.. oh, don't worry- they gave me two. I guess I looked like I wanted two. We continued on our way to work and after feeling guilty/sick from eating/noticing my disheveled mess of an outfit, I silently vowed to myself to never enter that eating institution again.

yeah. right.

I didn't even bother to say it out loud.

Here goes nothing.

2009-04-02T12:38:00.000-04:00

So here goes my first attempt at a blog. Please excuse me if I sound somewhat freshman at first. This is just me... adjusting to this crazy thing that they call "blogging." After much inspiration from my best friend in the world (a blogger appropriately named fishinnysea) and my hankering to return to my writing roots (English major in college), I have decided to keep a very candid record of everything I do, hear, say, and encounter in the big bold and brilliantly beautiful city of Washington, DC. I will take no prisoners. What I see and hear and do is what happened (nothing but the truth so help me God) and it will be documented on this very page.
Like a good number of people my age in the DC area, I am a native Washingtonian... which means a good part of my youth was full of (but not limited to) playing basketball in the Supreme Court Justice's personal gym, having picnics on the White House lawn, attending events with friends whose parents all seemed to be family friends of the current President of the USA, etc etc. It might seem like a charmed childhood, and oh, it was. However, upon my college graduation from James Madison University this past May, I wanted nothing more than to be AWAY from the District. It was old to me, boring, I knew everything and everyone. How could I possibly spend the rest of my life here? It would be like high school all over again.
Oh but how wrong I was, how very very wrong..