Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Things I Learned This Weekend

Baseball is infinitely more entertaining and interesting when there is alcohol involved.
I attended Friday's rainy but fun Nationals game with some coworkers. Believe it or not, this is the first time I've ever been tipsy at a sporting event. Maybe that shouldn't be a surpising fact, but it is, and I'm ok with that.

Living without a roommate for a month has some perks, but nothing beats spending a day with her watching stupid movies and episodes of "Sex and the City."
My roomie's back in town after being gone for awhile.

J Crew makes clothes in the prettiest shade of Carolina blue.
I bought a new summer dress shirt. Though the last thing on Earth I need is another blue dress shirt. I resisted the shorts.

White denim jeans are surprisingly cute on. But very, very white.
I tried on a pair but, in the words of Carrie Bradshaw, "I will never be the woman who can wear white and not spill on it." Accepting our faults is a key aspect of adulthood and that is certainly one of mine. And I embrace it. From a safe distance in my blue denim jeans.

It's possible and preferable to go two weekends in a row without using the metro at all.
Only used my feet or a bus. It was hot and my feet hurt, but I think it was worth it.

A hamburger from Burger King is not the same as a hamburger cooked on the grill.
This was my Memorial Day lunch. I'll make up for the anti-holildayness of it when I go home for the Fourth.

My last name is not the only part of my name that can be grossly misspelled:


I went to Z Burger in Tenleytown and this is how they recorded my name. AFTER I spelled it for them. Who would look at a little baby girl and think, "I know what we shall name her: Bollid! Huzzah!" (Because apparently Bollid is medieval?)

Sunday, May 22, 2011

An Enrapturing Weekend



This is the platform at my metro station, Van Ness-UDC, on Tuesday morning. This was taken from the floor above the tracks since the platform was too full for me to get down the escalator. That's an off-loaded train on the right, and scores of people on the left. For those not familiar with metro, a platform should only be that full if we are getting a new president or two comedians are in town to restore sanity and/or fear. And, quite frankly, a platform as far north as mine should never be that full. But by some act of the metro gods it only took three very full trains to clear most of the platform and only added 15 minutes to my commute.

And that pretty much sums up my week, and to some degree my past month: It looks like things are going to be difficult and then there's a bright spot. And then it's back to maybe being difficult the next day before an extra train appears or a dinner with a friend or a great TV show brings a bright spot.

This weekend was full of bright spots, literal and figurative. After a solid week of gray, Saturday looked like this:


I purposely made no specific plans this weekend and just let the days take me where they wanted. And on Saturday that meant going all over Northwest DC solely by bus. No specific reason except it's far cheaper than repeated metro tips and allows me to see so much more. So from my apartment to the National Cathedral to Dupont Circle to Georgetown to Friendship Heights to my apartment again, just me, some buses, and some sore feet.

I started at the thrift store run by the Cathedral where $25 got me two dresses, a skirt, a blouse, and a book. From there it was on to Dupont for what ended up being a very under-whelming craft fair. But it did allow me to finally get a taste of one of DC's newest fads: the food truck. There are a number of food trucks that descend on various parts of the city every day at lunch. Working in Old Town, I miss them, so it was nice to try the Fojol Bros. Indian fare.


From Dupont it was on to Georgetown. I have a definite love/hate relationship with this area. Love: Great shopping in a clean and pretty area. Hate: The throngs of spoiled undergrads and over-styled trophy wives and husbands. But I went anyway, primarily to visit a consignment store and Anthropologie. Getting into Anthro is always fun thanks to the maze that is the Georgetown mall. (This being Georgetown, it's not actually called a mall, but I refuse to look up the proper name.) It's three (or four) floors of stores with stairs and escalators haphazardly placed and since all the floors look the same and there are no solid landmarks, I never know where I am. But maybe that's just me. Somehow I ended up on the ground floor at a coffee shop and got some iced tea and homemade tiramisu. It took me all of about 2 minutes to devour this:


After some walking and shopping and cursing at rich people it was on to Friendship Heights and then my apartment to eat dinner, relax, and laugh hysterically at SNL.

On Sunday I cleaned in the morning before heading back to FH to see "Bridesmaids." I've been looking forward to this movie for weeks and it was funny, amazing, and the perfect end to the weekend. Which is now nearly over and it's somehow almost Monday. Again.

Friday, May 20, 2011

Fountain Friday


Bellagio Casino
Las Vegas, Nevada

As I'm currently figuring out logistics for a return trip to Las Vegas with some friends, it seemed fitting to feature such an iconic sight today.

When making a to see/do list for my trip in 2009, this was at the top, bolded with a star, an absolute can't miss. It did not dissapoint. And I may have shed a tear. Maybe it was the jetlag, or the desert heat, or the alcohol. Or maybe it was just the simple beauty of jets of water coordinated to music. But there may have been a tear. I'm not confirming or denying anything.

And the best part was when my friends indulged me and we stayed an additional half hour so I could see it again. I have damn good friends.



Good advice

A post on my obsession with "Parks and Recreation" will be forthcoming. But, for now, I leave you with this.

"Protect your friends. You only have one hometown. If you think you’ve had a bad date, remember, it can always get worse. And it’s okay to eat breakfast for dinner."
-Amy Poehler, after she was asked what she has learned from Leslie Knope

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

A little art, a little thinking

I've mentioned before that Demetri Martin is one of my favorite comedians. Every day he posts a new drawing -- with the clever hashatag of demetrimARTin -- via Twitter. This one made me laugh and then, as usual, think too much.


Demetri Martin's photo: Today's drawing. #demetrimARTin >>>
Demetri Martin on WhoSay


I have an idea for a novel I've been toying with for a few years. (The toying done primarily in my head as I only have a few paragraphs on paper.) But it involves a woman about to die who is given the option of reviewing the events of her life before she goes. (The higher power that gives her this option has yet to be determined.) She can't change anything, but it allows her to view her life as a whole instead of in pieces, and to gain some closure and understanding before she goes. (And then I don't know what happens. Or why.)

But this drawing made me think of that. I like the idea of seeing a life laid out like a railroad track with events represented through crooked lines, hash marks, curves, skid marks, bold strokes, and even confusing figure eights. This abrupt stop and blank space is where you quit that job and stumbled a bit. This wobbly, faint line is where you dated that boy and he broke your heart. That long unbroken bold line is where you were blissfully happy.

I have no idea what my line would look like. But, not suprrising, there would definitely be a fair amount of "where she kind of freaked out" figure eights.

Monday, May 9, 2011

I don't want normal. I want you.


These are maybe the two most beautiful sentences in the history of the world. When I get married, if my intended doesn't include these in his vows, I will walk out.

Does this make me not normal? YES! Because I am so not normal.

And thank you, Nordstrom dressing room*, for recognizing that.


*Yeah, I thought it was a little weird, too, that the mirror had words on it. But I'm not complaining.

Friday, May 6, 2011

Fountain Friday


Bynum Circle Fountain
University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill

As we rapidly approach the five year anniversary of my college graduation, I can't not feature this fountain. The only fountain, at least while I was a student, on campus.

On the Friday before graduation my three best friends and I set off on a quest to have a perfect day. We climbed the Bell Tower, got lunch from Franklin Street and ate it on McCorkle Place, signed our initials on a bench, posed for photos at the Old Well, sat on the Davie Poplar bench -- gasp -- alone, and danced in Bynum Fountain. Or, rather, we each stepped in just over the ledge, took a photo, and then got back out. And then Brandie and I decided to run through it, in white tank tops. We got chlorine up our noses and in our eyes and I slammed my knee on the brick, leaving me with a massive bruise for graduation.

And tt's still one of the most perfect days of my life.

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

A Royal (Wedding) Viewing

There are very few things in life for which I am willing to rise before the sun. No, actually, willing isn't the correct word. Rewind: There are very few things in life for which I will begrudgingly, crankily, and groggily rise before the sun.

A Royal Wedding, however, is most certainly one of those things. Especially when it can be done in my pajamas, with my Mom, in my apartment, with British goodies, homemade muffins, and mimosas.

Now, I am not a romantic person. I am far too rational and think entirely too much to ever really get swept away by something. (Exceptions: U2, The Notebook, Bell Bottom Blues, Crazy Love, and Leslie and Ben on Parks and Recreation.)

But when those boys (Princes) drove out of the Palace so grown up in their uniforms. Or when Diane Sawyer announced upon Kate arriving at the Abbey that "her Prince was waiting." Well, my heart melted a little bit. There is just so much awful in the world. and to take a few hours, or even a whole day, to stop and celebrate the love of two people, even strangers, is just refreshing. 

In preparation and celebration of the event I decided to channel my inner-Martha and decorate my apartment a bit. I got free printables from here and went to town. Starting with a pennant banner or four:




These were so simple to make I may start making a new one every week. But for now, these are still up.

Next are the British flags adorning my TV. (With a random shot of NPH.) I took it at this weird angle to show what rampant Anglophiles the roomie and I are every day: The photo of St. Paul's and the Big Ben statue are there all the time. (Though I already had the flags, they aren't there all the time.)


Then with the help of some paper bits from World Market, bamboo skewers, and more printables, I made a few arrangements.




And this was the spread for the morning.

First tier: Some of my favorite British goodies from World Market: Cadbury biscuit fingers, McVitties Digestives, and Walker's Shortbread.

Second tier: Mom made Nigella's British strawberry cream muffins. They were excellent.


If you're going to have to be up at 5 a.m., there might as well be a little alcohol involved.


The ONLY pieces of wedding-related paraphernalia I have purchased. (So far.) And they're from Etsy, so I don't even feel remotely dorky about these lovely mugs.


And those were our surroundings for the wedding. And the early start and general malaise of the day as a result was well worth it.

As for why I love the Royals: I just do. From loving William as a kid, to admiring the presence and grace of Diana, to the stubborn strength of Queen Elizabeth, I find them quite riveting. A lot of people don't get the monarchy, think it's archaic and unnecessary. I kind of view them as harmless. They aren't going around beheading people, causing wars, or declaring themselves appointed by God anymore, so they don't really bother me. I lived in England and barely remember ever talking about them with anyone. (But I'm not claiming to speak for even 1/10th of a British person.) With their history, pageantry, and very existence so foreign to America, I just find it all fascinating. 

And also, I love the tiaras.

Monday, May 2, 2011

I swear I'm not a wino


Technically, I'm a middle child, not a middle sister. But there was no way I was not going to buy a wine that:
  • Has such a cute name
  • Is called DRAMA QUEEN
  • Has such a chic lady on the label
  • Is called DRAMA QUEEN
And yes, it lived up to its name. Perhaps because I didn't eat a lot yesterday, but I was feeling rather DRAMATIC after a glass. Or two.