* It is likely I would not have cleaned my car or apartment regardless of the heat, but it’s nice to have a scapegoat
I despise the heat. Despise. The feel of a bead of perspiration making its way down my back. Damp hair sticking to my neck and forehead. The sting of my car’s piping hot “leatherette” interior as it fuses to the backs of my thighs. Pit stains. Sunburns. The way sweat pools under my eyes as the heat gets trapped behind my giant sunglasses, which are foggy with humidity.
Relief, found in chilly movie theaters and frequent cool showers, is merely temporary. If I were ever to embrace objectum sexuality, the object of my most sincere affections would without question be an air conditioner. Or, perhaps, a meat locker. But the window units in my rather old fashioned apartment are woefully inadequate. As they work overtime trying to satiate my desire, they sputter moisture out onto the window sills, which drips down the wall, causing the paint to bulge and crack. All in the service of bringing the temperature in the room from “unfathomably unbearable” to “at least I’m not actively perspiring (so long as I lay very still)”.
I long for ice-cold central air with an almost carnal passion. I simply cannot bear to be hot. We can’t all look “glistening and sexy” like Ashley Judd in “A Time to Kill” (probably the world’s sweatiest movie; the make-up department had to have been working overtime misting Judd down with a dewy, Southern glow).
I tend to look more like Oliver Platt’s character when the mercury heads above 95, as it has been for weeks. Fat, sweaty, and uncomfortable:
So please, God, if your’e out there, I know I take your name in vain too often and, frankly, only ever appeal to you for selfish reasons, seeing as how I’m not even remotely religious. But if you wouldn’t mind taking things down a notch, perhaps from “Hellfire and Brimstone” to something in the neighborhood of “Kitty Cat Relaxing in a Spot of Warm Sunshine,” I’d be ever so grateful. I may even show up at church.
If you live on the East Coast, or own a TV, you might know that my neck of the woods has gotten blasted in the last couple days with about ten thousand tons of snow. Here are just a few things I’ve learned in the last 48 hours:
Lesson #1: Sometimes, the Crazy Grocery Store People Are Right
My fellow New Englanders and I enjoy mocking all the crazed DC french toast enthusiasts who relieve the Harris Teeter of its entire egg/milk/bread supply in the 24 hours before even the slightest flurry. But seeing as how I was trapped in my boyfriend’s apartment for 36 hours this weekend with no hope of rescue, it turns out the crazies might have a point. Lucky for me, said boyfriend is a chef. There was plenty of food. But imagine if there weren’t!!! I mean, what would I have done about my boredom eating?
Lesson #2: Uggs Are NOT Snow Boots
Uggs are many things. Comfy, warm, remarkably unattractive, worn frequently by teenagers with their miniskirts on the hottest day of summer in an effort to enrage me. They are also $150. What they are NOT? Is snow boots. Trust.
Lesson #3: Snow Only Covers Poo, It Does Not Vaporize It
No one, and I mean no one, cleans up their dog’s crap when they walk it in the snow. Is that some sort of unspoken pet owner code? Like, “well, we have to walk these nasty mongrels in a damn blizzard, so no way am I picking up any poops. Just no.”
Lesson #4: Booze Can Solve All Your Problems
The snow wouldn’t stop for several more hours, but things really warmed up in our house when I remembered about that full bottle of Jack Daniels in the liquor cabinet.
Lesson #5: SUVs Don’t Mean ANYTHING
People who drive SUVs are some of the biggest idiots you’ll ever meet. As a reasonable, sensible, intelligent person, I think “well 4 wheel drive would be nice, but it sure won’t help me in a damn blizzard with five-foot snow drifts.” An SUV driver on the other hand, will say “Bizzard? WHAT blizzard? I can drive 90 mph la la la, four wheel drive, la la laaaa!” (crash)
Lesson #6: Putting Your Windshield Wipers Up In the Air Really Doesn’t Make a Difference Sometimes
Quick post today to satisfy requirements, prevent an automatic Momsey victory, and say happy birthday to the good old USA.
Three Things I Learned Yesterday:
1) Going paddleboating on the Tidal Basin is fun; but doing so while wearing a very short skirt is potentially ill advised. Though I will say I’m not sure I’ve ever actually felt a breeze in that particular area all that often before, and it was quite pleasant.
2) Going to Sonoma on the Hill for wine and noms is great, but you will absolutely spend $11.00 on a teeny tiny hunk of goat cheese. We basically both thought it was just a sample and that after we said we liked it they were going to bring us our REAL cheeseplate. What can we say, we were hankering for a hunka cheese!
3) Indoory s’mores are just as good as outdoor s’mores.
Ok, so I missed the midnight deadline by 42 minutes, and totally coughed up on the ball on the FIRST DAY of the July Blog-off with one Matt O’Malley.
The defense, if there is one: I was at happy hour planning on ONE BEER with coworkers, and was cajoled by those superior to me into staying…and just got home this very second when Mr. Momsey IM’d me to inform me of my defeat.
This IS no defense, but there it is.
I submit a one-time-only mulligan in which I agree to make up today by blogging on the 4th of July, which we’d already agreed we take off. That will bring our blog totals for the month (assuming there are no more fails) to 30 each, and it’ll be even. The esteemed Big Red is taking this under advisement.
To respond to his most excellent tribute, however, to our favorite college haunt, I shall tell the following story:
The night before my Foreign Policy 101 (ok it wasn’t 101 but I don’t remember the number because it was 8 years ago or more, but it was a Foreign Policy class in the Elliot School at G-Dub) final way back during my senior year in college, I “studied” by hitting up the Red Lion with my buddy in the class. I probably made it through approximately one of the 8 chapters I was behind in the class before capitulating and working my way through 8 pitchers of Harp instead. I woke up the next day stinking of that delicious cocktail of mayonnaise, body odor, smoke, blue cheese and hamburger grease (which on a good night at the Lion would soak into your bedsheets if you weren’t sober enough to shower before you went to bed) and raced to class late.
I somehow managed an A in this class, and to this day am convinced it was due to a computer error, as there is no way anything was absorbed into my brain that night besides nicotine, barley and hops.
This is a poor excuse for the epic masterpiece I’d HAD planned for this entry, but at least it addresses the Momsey’s chosen theme.
I ask forgiveness, and a time machine, since my exertions tonight are also going to cost me some sleep, as I will have to get up in 5 hours to do laundry so I have something to wear to the big work meeting I also have to do in the morning–let’s hope it goes as well as that Foreign Policy final.
Couldn't find a pic of the Runners' Start; but it was just as crowded. Whoo!
Well, for my first race on my Marine Corps Marathon training schedule, I sure did pick a doozy.
45,000 people participated in the Race for the Cure in D.C. this morning. 45,000! It was absolutely great, and definitely made me excited to do more races.
Before I get into the nuts and bolts of the race report, some highlights:
Best Boob-themed T-shirt: There were many, including an entire team of girls running as “Team DD,” but the best one I saw was one that simply read “Tough Titties.” What can I say? I am 8 years old, it made me LOL. The runner-up in this category would have to be the lady wearing a pink cape, with a hot pink bra strapped to her head, and a t-shirt that read “Titty Committee.” Bwah!
Most Disgusting Moment, Part 1: Having minor pre-race tummy issues, no doubt related to nerves, that resulted in the unfortunate forced use of a portojohn. (It’s 2009, is there really NO way to make portojohns less revolting? Whoever does this will be a millionaire overnight.)
Most Disgusting Moment, Part 2: Seeing a man emerge from a portojohn with a donut shoved in his mouth. Ew, dude.
(Al)most Disgusting Moment, Part 3: While waiting (forever) for the race to start, the girl in front of me was bent over stretching and displaying a brown stain on the back of her shorts. I was flummoxed and immediately all “ew, poo!” But then she pulled her ankle to her butt to stretch her quads and I realized it was probably (hopefully) just dirt from her shoes. Good thing, didn’t want to start the race behind a poo-pants.
Disturbing Trend: The number of people with race bibs on that I saw walking around and smoking after the race. I am not a holier-than-thou ex-smoker here; no one’s perfect. But even if I were still smoking…you’re…at a cancer fundraiser. Honestly.
Most Surreal “This Is What My Life Is Now? Wow” Moment: Standing in my bedroom at 545 in the fricking morning on a Saturday (even my cats were like, “Yeah, no. We’re not getting up.”) and lubing up my cleavage with Body Glide. (Hey, it was a breast cancer run, I can talk about cleavage!)
Most Demoralizing Moment: Which is worse, getting passed by the elderly, or by little kids? I feel like I should be able to do 3 miles faster than a 6 year old. They’re energetic, sure, but are 6 year olds really built for endurance? Sigh.
Race Report
Overall Summary: Not terrible, but certainly not good. But it was a LOT of fun, and for the first time since I started training, I even got the endorphin rush “runner’s high” thing I keep hearing about after I was done. Sweet!
Pre-Race: I got up at 5:40. Those of you who know me know that this was probably the biggest feat of the morning. Screw the short little race, I hauled myself out of bed before 6 in the morning. On a Saturday. I don’t do this.
Me So Smahhht: I had to do two extra miles, since there were 5 scheduled on my marathon plan. So? I parked a mile away from the race. Ha! Brilliant. Had to anyway, there was NO parking down there–it worked out great and allowed me to continue my snobby assed “no Metro, no how” stance while living in DC.
Warm-up FAIL: They bring a lady out to lead us in a fun series of group stretches and everyone gets all pumped and “Whoo, let’s DO this!”……and then they make us stand there for 30 minutes or so of pre-race chit chat with all the organizers and a Princess from Serbia and crazy Joe Biden. Warm up! Now stand there! Now run!
Holy Shit, This is a Lot of People: It took ten minutes to get to the starting line, just about, and pretty much the whole first half mile I was literally on top of everyone else, it was insane and very slow-going. I got tangled up with baby strollers, pissed at all the people who started with the runners but walked from the get-go (they had a separate start 15 min later for walkers, wtf people), I was dodging in and out looking for clear routes, people watching all over the damn place…it was just a zoo. A very, very, fun zoo!
Speaking of Walkers: I ran for the first mile and a quarter or so, which would turn out to be a mistake as the humidity started getting to me. In the second half I stopped for walk breaks more than I wanted to; I’m sort of realizing that I need to get a Garmin or a watch, or something that I can use to actually schedule breaks, rather than just taking them whenever. If I could look at my wrist and know “okay only 4 minutes and then you can walk for a minute,” I’d probably be able to hold out a lot longer.
Oh, For the Love Of..: About a mile in, my iPod shut down. I spent half an hour last night picking out the perfect race playlist of songs adding up to the time I was hoping to achieve (40 minutes) and all consisting of peppy, get your motor running type songs. This is not to say I can’t make it 2 miles without music, but I’m convinced my time would have been better with it–I didn’t even get to hear my super motivation song! (”Tessie” by the Dropkick Murphys; I figure if the Sox can come back from 3-0 in the 2004 ALCS against the evil Yankees, then I can certain haul my butt across 3 flat miles.) (2!3!4!)
H2Ooooh! : I really need to get a fanny pack thingie for water. I drank a liter of water between 545 and the start of the race, but was obviously not hydrated enough. There were two water stops, and both times afterwards I experienced a huge rush of energy from just one gulp of water. Next time I’m bringing my own to take a hit whenever I want.
Final Finish: I started fairly strong, but the second half of the race was crappy. Stopped to walk too much, and at times not by choice. I was actually forced to stop for a moment at times and walk around people, because by that point the actual runners were done and I was trapped with the other slow joggers, the Stroller Demolition Derby, other RFs (Runnin’ Fatties, whoo!), the elderly, the 6 year olds…and a billion walkers. Who liked to walk 6 across the road like idiots. Rrrr. I’m not sure what my time was, they won’t be posted for a day or so, I am guessing that it took 8-10 minutes to hit the starting line. So the “official” time on the box when I crossed was 52 minutes, which means it took me 42-45, which seems about right. Not 40 minutes like I wanted, but in line with how I’ve been doing on training runs, so I’ll take it.
Next Race: A 5k for Autism on the 4th of July. I must be nuts, because the 3rd of July is one of the best nights to go out and drink adult beverages at someone’s barbeque. Speaking of…I seriously need to cut back on those. It’s ridiculous. While I am not drinking excessively on any given night, I’m still drinking like every other night of the week. Including last night. Because I’m an idiot. Sure it was only two beers…but you know what would have been better? NO BEERS!
Oh and I drank 2 beers at brunch after the race too. But Brooke says that is not only ok, but encouraged. And as my official Marine Corps Marathon coach, I’m just gonna have to take her word for it.
I’m not even that big a fan, per se, of chicken. But that hasn’t prevented me from going completely buck wild in promoting and brainstorming ideas for the one, the only inaugural Northern Virginia Chicken Bowl, 2009. Well, also because I like parties, and there will be beers and stuff.
This Saturday, dozens of people will gather at my friends Jeff and Diane’s house to partake in a blind taste test of all the best chicken joints in the area: Super Chicken, Ell Pollo Rico, The Chicken Place, Crisp ‘n’ Juicy, Carribean Grill, and Super Pollo. (I wonder if Super Chicken and Super Pollo know that they have the same name….)
We will eat chicken, drink beers, enjoy the anticipated 84 degree weather, and, being a Junky Jeffa Production, some of the following may or may not happen:
Broken bones (2:1, since I am attending)
Keg stands gone awry (4:1)
Drinking out of the thirty rubber chickens we ordered for the occasion (definite)
Inappropriate “cock” puns (3:1)
Rubber chicken violations (5:1)
Mass food poisoning followed by a “Family Guy” style puke-a-thon (1000:1, hopefully)
Stevie Wonders why he's sharing a stage with Shakira, too.
I attended the “We are One” concert on the National Mall yesterday. I had preemo, VIP seating of course. Sure, I didn’t have a ticket, but you should have seen my own private jumbotron right in front of the Washington Monument…right next to the 400,000 other people who were there, heh.
Regardless, it was amazing. The Mall was packed from Lincoln to Washington and beyond, and everyone was just about bursting over with joy and excitement. I’ve attended two other inaugurations, one Dem (Clinton 96, which was rather ho-hum) and one GOP (Bush 2000, which was naturally significantly affected by the weeks-long Florida mess), and I’ve honestly never seen anything like this. I voted for Clinton in the primary, I was never even that in the tank for Obama, but even I couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by it all.
It wasn’t all “Yay, ‘Murrica,” though, there were also some great performances, some whacky pairings and awkward moments. Here’s my rundown:
Most Surreal “Only in DC” Moment: Amid thousands of revelers were naturally some protesters looking to cash in on the captive audience. So, on Constitution Ave there were a group of religious zealots holding signs that read “Homo-sex is a threat to national security” and “God will punish the homo’s (sic)”. People were heckling them a bit, but when two older gay men started making out right in front of them, everyone on the street started cheering, and the guy with the megaphone was speechless for a couple moments before he started back in with his rants. It made my plan about snootily informing them of the massive typo on their signs seem somehow less effective.
Craziest Presenter: I’m going to have to go with Kumar (aka actor Kal Penn) on this one. How many people who don’t watch “House” even know who this guy is? The people in my section were either saying “Kumar!” or “…who??” when he was announced. But considering Rosario Dawson was also present (after hosting “SNL” the night before..when did she suddenly become hot? What has she even been in lately? Am I getting old for not knowing?) (Don’t answer that…), I’m thinking you didn’t necessarily have to be A-list to take part. Obama is inclusive to all crappy celebrities!
Best Unintentional Comedy: This one is a tough category, considering we had the poor Navy guy kind of botching the national anthem, and a couple of bald eagles who looked like they were being tortured as the audience murmured in horror, but it obviously goes to Obama’s niece, who was passed out cold behind him and showed up every time the jumbotron cut to the president-elect awkwardly bopping his head to the music. I honestly cannot do the comedy justice, you really had to be there, the crowd went nuts every time they showed her.
Zzzz....
Biggest Chills/Tears Moment: As my friend Jeff said afterwards, “I got the chills so many times I think I am going to catch a cold.” He was right, there were a lot of chills-worthy moments, and some amazing performances. But honestly, the moment that I got a little choked up came when Mellencamp did “Pink Houses.” The crowd was way, way into it, singing along to the chorus (..”ain’t that America, home of the free”) and his perfomance was the best of the day up to that point. It helped that it followed a fairly boring speech from Biden. The crowd needed a little energy, and Mellencamp delivered (even though I still call him “John Cougar Mallomar” in my head, as an extremely obscure “Beavis and Butthead” reference) (yes, I’m 12).
Lamest Attempt at Chills/Tears (FAIL): Tom Hanks and his extended, boring as hell tribute to Abe Lincoln. Lincoln got props all day long, naturally. Quotes and close-ups on his portrait and the even the monument itself was lit in a way I’ve never seen in all my years in DC. It was pretty special, right up until Hanks and his overinflated sense of “Tom Hanks-Wannabe American History Professor Since 1994″ bravado came in and bored the crowd to tears in an endless monologue. I’m normally moved by such things, but found myself saying, “Screw this, where the hell is Beyonce?”
Biggest Letdown: Beyonce was pure class and fully awesome at signing “America the Beautiful,” but I was fully disappointed she didn’t end up stopping halfway through and ripping off her conservative trenchcoat get up to reveal her “Single Ladies” leotard get-up and launching into “..if you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it!” Tell me Sasha and Malia wouldn’t have loved that.
Biggest Letdown Part Two: Okay. Someone explain to me why on EARTH Stevie Wonder had to share the stage with Usher and Shakira?? Is it suddently 2003, because that’s the last time I remember either of them being all that relevant, and Stevie is a freaking legend. I’m sure it was quite the moment for them, but he deserved way better than that. U2, who aren’t even American, get two full songs (not that they weren’t great, they were…but not the best; more on that later) and Stevie has to sit up there with Shakira’s crappy “Joe Lieberman with acid reflux voice” warbling in his ear? Where is the justice in that?? I did love that they did “Higher Ground” though, which will always and forever be known to me only as “that song from ‘Center Stage‘”.
Cheesiest “Awww” Moment: I honestly don’t think I’ll ever be involved in another 400,000 person singalong of “This Land is Your Land” ever again. It was utterly heartwarming (even for a cranky cynic like me) and adorable, as was Pete Seeger’s banjo and hat. Though I really wanted him to wear a coat, what is he, 80?
Hands Down, Best Moment of the Day: Garth Brooks by a country (heh) mile. He was amazing. Others have complained that U2 got only two songs and Stevie only one, while Garth got three…but man. I challenge anyone to get either of those other two to recreate the electricity in the crowd when he did “Shout.” It was phenomenal. This was the best video I could find of it so far, and it doesn’t even come close to matching what it was like to be there in person. I wouldn’t throw around the words “unbridled joy” without thinking twice, but that’s really what it was.
That’s my wrap-up. Were you there? Did you watch on TV? What were your favorite moments?
(I really hope those eagles are ok, better than these Eagles anyway, heh…)
