I think that maybe today I have the time and energy for an actual post. The combination of a hectic work week with deadlines and meetings piling on and our semi-annual trek to Smith & Wollensky (S&W) for Wine Week left me brain dead.

Work has been getting increasingly crazy as we enter into what we refer to as "restoration season". Somehow, I've also found myself (over the past couple of years) managing a big government grant and dealing with federal contracting issues. This is not my forte...looking at millions of dollars on paper makes my brain hurt and my eyes cross. Thursday and Friday found me wading through government paperwork and forms, and by noon on Friday, I was ready for that wine reservation. Getting off the phone with my boss after a harrowing thirty minutes of federal contract talk, I told her I was going to send this email and then go get drunk and pretend the conversation we had just had didn't happen.*

As usual, the wine flowed at S&W...the three glasses in front of me rarely empty. Merlot, Syrah, Chardonnay, Pinot Grigio, Reisling, and a great sparkling later...work was forgotten. In fact, any good sense I had was apparently forgotten as well. I'm too embarrassed here to repeat some of the text messages and emails I sent, but let's just say that I was a very friendly and blunt girl.

You would think that would be enough, but no. We had plans to meet up with some people for happy hour at The Russia House and couldn't disappoint. One long, stumbling walk up Dupont and two (maybe three) mango martinis later, and I was done for. Completely tanked by 6 pm. Enough alcohol in my system that hours later, while at home, I was still drunk.

Despite the debauchery, I would never recommend giving up wine week and suggest everyone give it a whirl once in a while.


*Seriously, how can I not love working for a nonprofit like this?

Rocketship to the moon

As I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, the face staring back at me was different. My pupils were mere pinpricks of their former selves, dilated, reflecting the far away look in my eyes. My skin was more flush than normal, contrasting sharply with my red locks. No, I didn't do drugs today. Arousal. I could go into more, since I am currently affected (or should it be afflicted); however, too many people from the office know about and potentially read this blog. None of them are the cause for said physical reaction, but I'm not sure I want them knowing more than what I've already said.

Reasons I should be aroused are this phat new Mac Powerbook I'm blogging on. Yep...that's right. This girl got herself a new computer today at a steal. Thanks to Ravena, I've practically got the computer of my dreams. I'd say my current look of elation has a much different origin than my dilated pupils of early afternoon.

Manic Monday

I had what feels like one of the most hectic weekends I've had in a while. Maybe it had something to do with creating a to-do list so long that I knew I'd never make it through everything. Did I work on any of the work projects I wanted to this weekend? No. Did I clean and reorganize my apartment? No. Did I ever put that first coat of gesso on that art project? No.

I did...

• work two insanely long shifts at the part-time;
• try out a new martini bar out in the sticks and didn't hate it;
• purchase my first lomo camera and shoot that first role of film;
• pick up the first piece of artwork I've actually purchased;
• continued my consumer binge by snagging two hott skirts and some apricot baby oil;
• visited the sick and shut-in;
• four hour online liaison that was more than satisfactory; and
• even managed to do some laundry.

Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds

I've always been one of those weird people who find that Benadryl actually helps my allergies and doesn't make me tired. Yesterday, I became a statistic.

Spring is a bitch for those who suffer from allergies, and on the recommendation of a friend, I bought some of the new Benadryl strips that dissolve right on your tongue. Knowing these contained medicine didn't quell the thought that I was dropping acid. A few hours later and I was indeed wondering if I'd obtained a "special" batch of the strips.

Kneeling down in Children's department at the part-time I felt my heart speed up and suddenly the world grew hazy. I was tripping the light fantastic with Hello Kitty swirling in front of me. Several minutes later, I still felt like I was going to pass out and had trouble focusing on the world around me. A coworker mentioned how small my pupils were.

Benadryl Strips...you may have helped the sneezing, but you weren't exactly the high I was looking for.

Washington D.C.*

We went to the opening reception for the DCist Exposed Photography Show. My overall impressions of the show are very positive. The vast majority of the photos were amazing with only a few that left me thinking of the contrived, the average. The Warehouse Theater, which was home to the show, wasn't disappointing. The minimum amount of square footage, though crowded, was also cozy, and I fell in love with the room that appeared unfinished. Things I would have liked: someplace to drop my heavy coat, free drinks, and for it to be a bit more clear how to buy a photograph**.

I left inspired, which is always the idea. Good job, DCist!

*I finished Mailtunes and was not the last. This one of the few songs in my mix.
**Maybe this is my fault since I don't play on the DC art scene much. Maybe I'm just not familiar with the rules.

Ginger Snaps (And Sugar Winks)

I hate feeling constipated emotionally. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I find myself getting angry at situations and events with no real outlet for my anger. About 50% of my anger is simply impatience and a quick temper and is best not finding an outlet. The rest of my anger and frustration is most definitely valid and should be expressed in some productive way, preferably a way that results in a solution.

Humor me, and let me give an example. I get an email from my mom this morning telling me my grandparents got bad news yesterday. Evidently, my grandfather's company is changing its retiree policy such that they will no longer have life insurance and the premiums for their health insurance are increasing exponentially. How in the bloody hell can a company tell you they're providing you with life insurance (telling you this for decades) and then suddenly decide not to? Shouldn't they at least provide life insurance that was "banked" up until the point they decided to end it? It's like he's been screwed out of years of getting his own insurance policy. Don't even get me started on the health care crap.

It is situations like this where I feel like I have no real outlet for my anger, no way to affect change. Sure, you can tell me to vote or something similar, but I want change NOW. I want a way to make these companies, our system pay.

Cheryl Tweedy

I've been feeling like being crafty lately but have balked at knitting due to a serious lack of cute yarn. Seriously, the closest places selling yarn to me are Michael's and Wal-Mart who both have such uninspiring selections. Maybe I'm just being picky. My other problem is that I'm ready to learn some new knitting skills but am not feeling patient enough to actually invest the time in acquiring them.

My solution? Try a new craft. Considering it was my first go, I'm pretty pleased with the results. They're supposed to be earring; however, because I made a silly mistake they're really nothing. I didn't put a big enough hole, and it shrunk to virtually nothing. Ah well, lessons learned. The next version will rock!

Getting my 'Thriller' mack on

Well, my need for all things 80s is officially over. Last night I survived the 80s porn-themed birthday party we through for Ravena's big day, and I rocked my outfit like Mary Lou Retton did the parallel bars. I'm officially washing my hands of 80s costumes though because seeing pictures this evening reminded me that (even 20 years later) that decade is not for me. Never again will these red locks be twisted into a side ponytail or will I wear fishnet leggings under a short skirt. I might bring back the bright blue shadow though because it makes my eyes pop.

We pre-gamed it by pulling on a pair of rollerskates and rocking the rink in Manassas. Yes. Rollerskates. The birthday girl requested, and who were we to argue. Walking into the brightly lit rink was a slightly mortifying given that I was wearing something similar to what I might have worn when I first started skating and that we were clearly the oldest people there without children. Once I got my skating legs back, I had a blast. Whipping around the rink and trying to remember how to crossover was sweet. Realizing I still didn't know how to stop was not so sweet. Some of those little kids were also death on wheels. I swear their parents sent them into my path to take me out. Last skate before we left was to Thriller. I almost passed out.

Back at Ravena's place, the more timid souls who wouldn't brave the rink joined us for a bit of revelry. The rest of the evening is a bit of a blur, but I want to remember Allie's cupcakes, Ravena's penis shot glass, food fight, pink cigarettes (not), Tice in bunny ears, and the 80s dance party in the living room.

We Only Come Out At Night

Continuing on this '80s track, I've had legwarmers on the brain a lot lately. Until recently (when I went in search of a pair for my project), I saw them everywhere. Sadly, I remember when they were originally* the thing to wear. I legitimized my owning several pair by the fact that I was in ballet at the time. Of course, I did wear them over jeans in addition to over my tights.

Anyway, back to the present day. I determined I needed legwarmers for my project but have been having trouble finding a pair. Yes, I did wait until the last minute but still thought I had enough knitting talent and speed in me to whip up a pair of turquoise legwarmers in a couple of days. What I kept forgetting is that (1) I knit slowly and (2) the available free hours I have on any given day are few and usually after midnight. Add on top of that the fact that I get frustrated when I don't find a pattern I like and was proceeding to design my own pair, and you can pretty much guess the status of my legwarmers.



*At least as far as I know.

What a Feeling

I was looking for a little wardrobe inspiration last night and figured it couldn't hurt to look through old pictures. Flipping through the latest issue of Nylon and other magazines, it's clear that the '80s are back. I lived through the '80s and have an established relationship with the decade. If I had a fashion resume, this ten years of experience would surely get me hired to style the remake of Mannequin, right? We'll let you be the judge.

This is me going away to some kind of camp. Yes, that is a George Michael t-shirt and Umbra shorts.

Note the sky high bangs, blue eyeshadow and rolled jeans.

I'm not sure if I thought I was Tom Cruise. The feathered hair is fierce though.

This has to be my favorite. I look like it's my 50th birthday with that leather skirt, wide belt and shoulder pads of death.

And what would the '80s be without a poufy, gold party dress.