Damn You Williams-Sonoma For Knowing My Weakness

After writing about my last temptation from Williams-Sonoma, I casually cruised the sale site for the after-Valentine's Day stuff, and I ran across this: the Zarafina Tea Maker Suite.

It's 1/3 off! And every reviewer had awesome things to say about it - and rated it 4 or 5 out of 5 stars. And there are separate settings for different types of tea and the strength that you want.

Damn you Williams-Sonoma! I resisted the hot chocolate maker (which is still on sale btw) since I usually only drink it in the winter. But tea? I drink tea all the time! And the Zarafina Tea Maker Suite looks so convenient. And handy. And is such a cool kitchen toy, er, I mean, tool.

Must. resist. sale.price.

Everytime I Hear a Republican Say They Don't Want "Big Giovernment," I Want to Punch Him (or Her) in the Face

Please. Just be honest. It's not that you don't want "big government." You don't want big government in social services or in domestic issues. You don't want government employees handling the duties needed to make the federal government run.

Instead, Republicans just hire the work out to contractors who do the work for profit. And have lobbyists. The following stats were reported by Morning Edition on NPR in Dec 2008.

-Since President Bush took office, the government has doubled the amount of
contracts with industry. The administration paid corporations more than $400
billion last year to work for everybody from the Forest Service to the CIA.

-The administration has given the majority of that contract money to
companies that didn't have to compete to get it — or faced only limited
competition.

-There are actually more contractors handling the war in Iraq
than American troops.

The current batch of contractors have former President Reagan to thank for kicking off the start of the largest number of contractors working for the federal government. Former President Clinton continued the trend, "And then came President Bush, who said "big government is not the answer" and shattered all the previous records for contracting out [work]" (NPR, Dec 1, 2008).

So really, this talk of no big government is a farce. Sort of like John McCain spouting off about how deregulation of the banking industry is good. Deregulation means less government oversight and therefore "smaller government." Yeah, we see how well that's been working out.

So Republicans, think about the spin you keep trying to put to the American public and jsut be honest about what you want. Perhaps this is one of the reasons why the Democrats took the White House this last election. Or just STFU. Either one I'm good with.

Sources:
Obama To Tackle Explosion In Federal Contracts - NPR, Morning Edition, December 1, 2008.
McCain’s Pro-Deregulation History Exposed, Becoming a Major Liability in the Presidential Race - Rob Kellogg, Government Investment Watch, September 19, 2008.

IMAX: I Love Thee

I'm someone who is willing to travel for a movie in IMAX. I once drove 6 hours each way to see Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire in IMAX in Houston when I lived in New Orleans (and left the now-ex husband home too). (Hey, Hurricane Katrina destroyed the Aquarium where Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban played. And to paraphrase Jerry Seinfeld, "Once you go IMAX, you can't go back!")

I was in training in Houston when V for Vendetta came out and I organize a group of 10 from my class to see it. I flew to Orlando this summer to meet with the parents after two years of silence to hash out the past, and what was opening that very weekend? The Dark Knight. On IMAX. Fucking awesome. I liked it so much, when I flew home, I saw it again on IMAX out in Chantilly at the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum a week later. It was that good.

I've got a good history with IMAX. IMAX and I go way, way back. The IMAX Gods have been kind to me.

My point is, I freaking love watching movies on IMAX. So when I first saw trailers advertising Watchmen on IMAX, I drooled in my seat. (And did I mention Jeffrey Dean Morgan and Matthew Goode are in it? I'm dying over here!)

So imagine my disappointment when I looked up my local movie theater (with a newly built IMAX), and found out AMC is NOT SHOWING WATCHMEN ON THE IMAX SCREEN. What the deuce? The local Regal Cinemas and Loews aren't showing it in IMAX either.

Ack! IMAX Gods: You are a fickle lot!

Despite information from here, the closest IMAX theater selling tickets right now is on the other side of Baltimore.

If you aren't from here, you don't know the Northern Virginia/Maryland travel rules. The only rule being, if you live in Northern VA, you never, ever go to Maryland. And vice versa. I think it's because people spend so much time on the beltway going to and from work, the last thing they want to do is get caught in weekend traffic on the same bridges. Just like during the week.

Not only am I crossing a bridge and driving into Maryland to see Watchmen on IMAX, I'm actually driving to the far side of Baltimore to do it (and the Northern VA/Maryland travel rule applies to DC/Baltimore, only exponentially so).

All I know is, I may be a movie geek, but at least I don't have to drive 6 hours each way to see it. Unless, of course, there is an accident on the beltway. Or on I-95. Or both.

In the Words of Stephen Colbert - "Facebook: You're On Notice."

Facebook, I know you've tangled with your users before. I realize the majority of your users are teens and twenty-somethings with some older people thrown in (and pedophiles who have been kicked off of Myspace). And , as a "free social networking service," you make money by selling ads tailored to the individual user.

I had a birthday last month. I'm now on the down side of 35. But I don't think I deserved the following three ads that showed up on my Facebook home page:

"Meet Elite Mature Men!"
"Face lifts!"
"Look 5 to 10 Years Younger!"

So, Facebook is now telling me I'm too picky and has found Elite men for me to meet? (I don't necessarily think being too picky is a bad thing when it comes to the dating department.)

And, really, I don't think I need any face lifts. I even stated in my "25 Random Things" that I want to grow old gracefully. And it's not like I've joined the "I'm Over 40 and On Facebook" group.

So screw you Facebook. With your judgements about my relationship status, my looks and my life.

I just wish I could quit you.

A Gastronomical Bigfoot

Got this from jezebel.com's Fat Chance: A photo of In-N-Out 100x100 Burger from thisiswhyyourfat.com. I can't even image trying to eat all that.

On the upside (or downside, depending on how you look at it), I've only eaten two of the items shown for the month of February: Deep fried cheesecake (so-so) and King Cake (the one shown on the site is the nasty dried-up coffee cake version with a ton of sugar and sugar frosting on top). Neither one I liked (although I do like the filled king cakes - with cherry and cheese, please). And so I can maintain my food superiority and look at horror at the rest of the pictures on the site.

Rated: NSFHC (Not Safe for Heart Conditions)

Sorry About the Lack of Posts

Ditto from the title of the post. I started the first of two courses to complete my MBA last week. The courses are six weeks long, and I'm considered a full time student with the weekly course load. Since I'm actually still working full time, and going to meetings, and resolving to cook more and eat out less, I've been pretty busy.

But April 15 is my very last class for the very last course! I'll be done! At this point, I don't care when I receive my degree - I just want to be done with the classes.

This is after I took a year off. I started and dropped the same two courses about six times. What's the definition of insanity? At that point, I realized I didn't have enough concentration to finish the MBA, get out of the Coast Guard, find a new job, deal with my continuing depression, and figure out where I was going to live.

Now, the dust has settled a bit. I'm pulling out of the depression, I found a new job, I stayed in the DC area, and I got some concentration left to finish the program.

Not sure what I'll do on the last day. (Other than pay the $400 I owe the Federal Government for last year's income). But in the mean time, I'm counting the weeks. 10 weeks to go!

My New Free Toy From NPR

Apparantly, plunking down money on a monthly basis to support NPR here in Washington DC will get you this:

If I'm listening to NPR and hear part of a story, I click the button, and the Radio Bookmark will mark the story. When I get home and plug it into my computer, the Radio Bookmark will automatically find the story and I can listen to the entire piece.

Pretty cool, huh?

OMG. (And Not In A Good Way)

My second foray into dating happened last week at a Starbucks in Arlington. This was the second guy I had been emailing from eHarmony. In the very first email, L. said he was only 5 feet, 2 inches. I'm only 5 feet, 1-3/8 inches (in bare feet), and to tell the truth, I've never dated anyone that short. But, you know, I'm keeping an open mind.

I showed up, walked in and immediately thought, "Oh. My. God." L. was probably about 40 pounds heavier than his profile picture. L was so different from his profile picture, I came home afterwards and checked. Just to make sure I wasn't crazy. And he was practically bald. And really round. And sort of shaped like Humpty Dumpty. And I had to bend over a bit to hug him.

Now, I don't have a problem with any of these things. I'm not the most svelte woman out there. And personally, I like men who embrace their baldness and shave the whole darn head. I can think of quite a few sexy men with shaved heads. Jason Statham. James Blake (post dreadlocks - tennis player). Michael Chiklis. Um. My mind went blank. But a man losing his hair doesn't bother me at all.

I've always thought of myself as an open-minded, kind person. Someone who doesn't judge people based solely on their looks. But as I was sitting there talking with L., I couldn't help but wonder what people would think of me if they saw us walking down the street together. Then my next thought was, "How incredibly shallow." But where does that leave me? See L. again just to prove to myself I'm not shallow - even though I'm not interested? And wouldn't that be leading him on more?

Our conversation was alright. I did sit there with him for an hour and a half talking and getting to know each other a little. And L. invited me to dinner, but at that point, I knew I wasn't interested, so I declined. And then I left and called Angela and expressed shock. She pegged what was bothering me about the whole thing - I had a bait and switch pulled on me. The profile picture showed one thing - the person was another. Which, I guess, isn't that suprising with the whole internet dating thing. It was bound to happen sooner or later.

The kicker of this experience? L. closed out communication with me on eHarmony with the reasoning of, "I just didn't feel like the chemistry was there." At least I avoided another phone call like this.

Another Great Benny of Living in DC - Call Out to NOLA Fans

I got a meetup message about the closing ceremony for John K. Lawson's exhibit - Floodline at a gallery in DC. I don't care if I go with people I know or not - I'm heading over there today after work. Here's a brief description of the exhibit:

One morning in Maine, John Lawson took a dingy from the island where he and his wife were vacationing to the mainland to fetch the morning paper, and learned that his home and studio were under six feet of water and that his adopted home city of fifteen years was in a state of chaos. It was six weeks before they were allowed to return to New Orleans and sort through their personal belongings. Everything was damaged. From his studio drawers Lawson pulled out twenty-five years’ worth of soaked sketches and drawings. By pulling the paper carefully apart he laid what was still intact onto the porch of a friend to dry in the sun. The piles of photographs though were less salvageable; in some the subject was still discernible, but for most the colors had bled into one another, creating abstractions in brilliant colors, which melted and crept eerily across the faces of family and friends. With these remains, about a third of his life’s work, Lawson began his journey of understanding the disaster that had changed his life forever. In this exhibition we are witness to Lawson’s mourning, healing and ultimate discovery of acceptance and hope.

I've been missing New Orleans for a few weeks now since I saw a friend's photo of the French Quarter in her facebook album. And I hardly ever went into the French Quarter (unless I had an urge for a muffaletta from Central Grocery).

Anyway, I figured this was a small way to reconnect with what I consider my hometown and remeber the city before and after Katrina.

I'll post my reaction and experience to Floodline afterwards.

Such a Pretty Fat by Jen Lancaster: A Review

I finished the above book last night buried in the bed with the dogs and cats. For a while, I was reading lots and lots of memoirs and I read her first one - Bitter is the New Black: Confessions of a Condescending, Egomaniacal, Self-Centered Smartass, or, Why You Should Never Carry a Prada Bag to the Unemployment Office which I thought was hilarious and enjoyed immensely. The first book had Jen getting fired and tumbling from her yuppie life in Chicago into practical adulthood.

I grabbed Such a Pretty Fat: One Narcissist's Quest to Discover if Her Life Makes Her Ass Look Big, Or Why Pie is Not the Answer from Barnes & Nobles along with another memoir (The Sharper the Knife, the Less You Cry) right before Christmas while I was "Christmas shopping" (hey, I always get something for myself - and I have a Barnes & Noble discount card). Jen has always been okay with her weight and size, but when she goes to the doctor's office after a health scare, she realizes, "what good [is it to] finally being able to afford a pedicure if I lose a foot to adult onset diabetes?"

There was one part in the book that I laughed out loud, and could not stop laughing for about 5 minutes. I disrupted the two sleeping boxers next to me (Maggie under the covers, Trouble squashed next to my hip). Trouble managed to look annoyed and disinterested at the same time. I, however, had to go back and read the same chapter again which led to more minutes of laughing in bed.

If you like reading memoirs, a woman who has no apologizes for who she is, and a book about the reality of attempting to lose weight for health reasons (not to have society drool over her size 2 dress), then this book is for you.

Dog Transport #2 for 2009

This past Saturday I drove for Rhonda's transport. We moved the following dogs/puppies from South Carolina to New York, New Jersey, Rhode Island and New Hampshire starting Saturday morning and ending on Sunday.

1. Four houndettes ~ hound-mix pups, 7 weeks old
2. Four Sharpies ~ shar-pei mix pups, 9 weeks old
3. Jenga ~ shepard-mix, 1 year, spayed female
4. Sheamus ~ dauschund-mix, 3 months, neutered male
5. Iris ~ keeshond-mix, 9 months, spayed female
6. Bluey ~ cattle dog-mix, 1 yr, neutered male
7. Belle ~ dauschund, female, 9 years
8. Eden ~ dauschund, spayed female
9. Rain ~ plotthound-mix, 8 months, female
10. Lily~ American bulldog, 2 yrs, spayed female
11. Autumn ~ retriever-mix, 1.5 yrs, spayed female
12. Benny ~ lab-mix, 2 yrs, neutered male
13. Princess ~ pitbull, 1 yr, spayed female

I couldn't take everyone's pictures since there were two drivers, and we had to unload and load the furries from our vehicles to the next leg. But I was able to take pictures on the ones I transported in Alexandria. For some reason, I beat the second driver to the meeting spot by 10 minutes. I wonder how that happened?

Below is Autumn. She was super-skittish and very shy. She would keep hopping to the opposite side of the vehicle whenever someone opened a door. Which made getting her out of the 4Runner a fun task. There was a tragic end to my GPS when I finally did get her out.

Here are the four hound-mix puppies. All black and shiny with perky inquisitive faces. Another rescue told me it's very hard taking pictures of all black dogs, but apparently the secret is using a flash at night.

Here are the four shar-pei mix puppies. Sorry about the wiring for the crates in the pictures. I didn't want to risk opening the doors and having the puppies sneak out. There is nothing worse than losing a dog during a transport. It's happened a few times at hand offs I've been to (and once to myself), and every time I practically have a heart attack. A lot of these dogs have been abused or living on the street and aren't used to people. So having a dog slip out of her collar, and then trying to coax her to get near enough to grab her without spooking her is a very difficult. All the while, I'm thinking to myself, "If she dashes, there is no way we can just call her to come back. And she's not from this area and doesn't know any familiar places or people ..." Scary. Oh yeah, the four shar-pei puppies:

This is Iris the keeshond. She was adorable although she did not get along with Lily, the American bulldog. Fortunately, there were two vehicles per leg, so we kept them in separate cars. Iris was a pistol and so full of life. You can see it in her face when I took her picture.

I think this is Rain. I didn't drive her on this leg, and I was able to snap a quick shot when the other vehicle showed up and we started to figure out who goes where.

So that was my second transport of the year. I've always wanted to foster dogs, but since I'm already over my limit of pets in the condo I'm renting, and one of my dogs is dog-aggressive, I tried to figure out another way to help. After driving for dog rescues for over a year, and meeting so many beautiful dogs and puppies just waiting for a fur-ever home, I can't justify ever buying a dog or puppy. It's disheartening to realize that for all dogs we've been able to help, thousands are still put to sleep for no other reason than no one wants to adopt them.

Okay. I'm done with my soapbox now.

You Can't Go Wrong With Bacon

Last night I got a wild hair and decided to make the New England Clam Chowder with Leeks and Bacon recipe from the Williams-Sonoma Soup cookbook I previously mentioned. I've made a few recipes from it, but I've never messed with shell fish before other than shrimp.

The ingredients are pretty basic (like most New England food) so I gathered leeks, red potatoes, bacon and light cream from the supermarket. The first one I went to, that is. Two grocery stores later (the last being the fancy Harris Teeter on Duke Street) I found 3 dozen fresh clams. I went with the littleneck clams since they were cheaper and if I screwed up the recipe, I would waste less money.

I followed the directions (I always do the first time), and found the soup to be tasty. A few problems - other than the leeks and bacon, there were spices and boiled red potatoes. Yuck. Potatoes are my least favorite starch and this includes (french) fried potates. (And in my experience, just about anything fried tastes good. Case in point: Fried pickles. Delicious.) Depsite watching the simmering broth like a hawk, I think I broke the cream because I had to simmer to potatoes for 15 minutes in it. The soup still tasted good, but the consistency was a little off.


I rooted around Williams-Sonoma's website and found another recipe that calls for adding the cream at the end and simmering for 2 minutes (enough to heat it up), and adds celery, onions, Worchestershire sauce, and pancetta. Next time I'm in the mood for clam chowder, I'm going with this recipe instead.

On the up side, I still have tasty soup for the rest of the week. I experienced steaming fresh clams for the first time, and they tasted so good (I snacked on one before adding to the soup), I'm encouraged to cook more fresh shell fish and maybe try a Linguine with White Clam Sauce.

Bon appetit!

WTF??

The Drudge Report had a piece claiming the following:

[Nancy] Pelosi, the mother of 5 children and 6 grandchildren, who once
said, "Nothing in my life will ever, ever compare to being a mom," seemed to
imply babies are somehow a burden on the treasury.

If you actually read her statement, she doesn't imply that at all. She just states that providing more money for contraception would reduce costs to the state and government in reduced health care and education. Since when is trying to reduce unwanted pregnancies (through prevention, not abortion mind you) spun into saying children are a burden? And the photo of Pelosi accompanying the piece is very unflattering and shows a look of disdain or disgust on her face.

I haven't read a lot of the Drudge Report, but I see a very clear bias in this article and in the reporting of "facts."

Dialogue of a Confident, Independent Woman

My parents raised my sister and I to be strong, independent women. We were never taught that we couldn't do things because of our gender and that certain jobs were "boys" or "girls" jobs. I suspect this was easier to do since there were only two girls and no boys growing up. Who mowed and trimmed the lawn, cooked dinner, did laundry, ironed and relocated 1/2 cord of wood growing up? My sister and I. Our mother never told us, "When you grow up and get married, you can do whatever you want ..." or anything like that. It was usually, "When you grow up and have your own place ..."


My recent adventures into the dating world is a place I haven't had much experience in this. Then again, I haven't had much experience in dating. I've mostly just "hung out" and then, Bam! We're in a relationship. Usually because we've just had sex and one of us (okay, mostly me) wants to see the other one again.


After my date with T last Sunday, I decided I didn't want to pursue anything else with him. And when I didn't hear anything from him during the week, I thought perhaps he felt the same way. Until T called Friday night and left me a casual message saying hi. Rats. Now I'd have to call him back. (Calling T back was reaffirmed after a very long discussion with a co-worker on the way back from Baltimore about how it drove him nuts when women would get his messages and texts, and then wait a few days before responding.)

I waited a day and called about 7:00 pm Saturday. Below is basically the message I left:

"Hello, T? Thank you very much for lunch on Sunday, Clyde's was a nice restaurant. I, er, don't think, um, (short, uncomfortable laugh) jeez, I don't know how to do this, (then I burst out with) I don't think it's going to work out between us. I hope things go really well for you, and if you have any questions, you can call me (What the f*** was I saying? I was trying to say we shouldn't see each other any more, and I'm leaving the door open for more communication?!?!). Anyway, thank you again for lunch, and good luck."

I can't even imagine how much more disastrous the conversation would have been if T actually picked up the phone. As soon as I hung up, I realized what a mixed message I left. In my defense, I've never had to leave a message like that for anyone (as if you couldn't tell).

Well, at least I got the following done:

1. First date post-divorce? Check.
2. First awkward phone call letting the other person know I don't want to see him anymore? Check.
3. Feeling like an awkward teenager still? Check.
4. Slightly embarrassed because I feel like I should have learned this stuff already instead of learning it in my thirties? Check.
5. Willing to keep trying and possibly make a fool of myself? Check.

One thing I've come to accept. It's mighty hard for me to find another relationship, get married, and have kids if I'm not willing to meet men and go out on some dates. Mighty hard.

So I'll keep trying. I accidentally bought a 1-year membership to eHarmony anyway. What the hell. Call me an optimist.

I'm So Trying to Justify Buying This ...

I love Williams-Sonoma. Some people might think this is cooking snobbery, but I blame my Aunt Betty who gave me my very first WS cook book (titled: Soup) when I was 12. Sure, I didn't actually make anything out of it until I graduated college, moved into a house with a roommate in Port Angeles, WA, and when I got snowed in for three days by myself, I cooked up a storm. But the Sweet and Sour Cabbage Soup with Flanken and Greek Chicken and Lemon Soup with Orzo came out quite tasty, thank you very much.

I got Williams-Sonoma's sale email a few days ago, and I keep trying to justify buying the Bialetti Hot Chocolate Pot. It's 20% off! Just pour in some milk and chocolate, and voila! Hot chocolate! Fantasies of sipping a steaming cup of hot chocolate with whip cream on top danced before my eyes. (How can there be steam if whipped cream is topping the cup? Oh, details, never mind.) I even had a flash of inspiration this morning walking into work through the slowly drifting snow that I could pop that sucker on my desk and have hot chocolate at work! Of course!

But slowly, reality settled in. I don't even have a place to put this particular kitchen gadget (and I do love my kitchen gadgets). In fact, I put together a mini cabinet to store a bunch of my kitchen stuff since the new kitchen had half the space as the last kitchen. And do I really need a hot chocolate maker? Aren't I trying to lose weight? How often would I actually use it?

Reluctantly, I closed the Internet page and slowly let go of dreams of snuggling onto my couch, sipping a cup of hot chocolate ...

Sometimes I hate being a responsible, practical adult.

Date Wrap-up

I've gotten some emails from folks wondering how the date went last Sunday. We met at Clyde's in Reston which is sort of a fancy-upscale pub. We had some really good food (Eggs Maryland for me - like Eggs Benedict but with crab cakes instead of ham), and some good conversation. There were some potential red flags I made note of during our emails, and I wanted to meet in person to see how things played out.

There were a few concerns: T made a comment about doing something to solely piss off the ex-wife (not for any other reason). He kept giving me suggestions (kind of pushily) about what I needed to do to go into the Coast Guard Reserves, and get back onto Active Duty even though I said I didn't really want to get into the law enforcement side of the CG. And he brought the conversation back to that topic later on. I got the distinct impression that T was "partier," and even if he didn't drink often, when he did - things could potentially get crazy. (I'm sort of wondering how truthful the Drink: once or a twice a year part of his profile was.)

I decided that even though I had a very pleasant time, T wasn't what I was looking for in a partner. It was nice figuring this out on my own practically and logically. Without getting swept up in the "potential" for the relationship and just taking my own thoughts and feelings about it.

And I did offer to pay for lunch since I suggested meeting in the first place. He politley declined, and then I offered to leave the tip and he declined again. If we went on a second date, I would have paid.

Thank You for Reading

Let me start off by thanking everyone who's been reading my blog. How do I know people have been reading? I've installed a tiny little stat counter on the bottom of the page (although every time I look at the page, it counts: sometimes page hits aren't the best way to figure that out) and people have left comments!

So thank you everyone. It's nice to know my words and thoughts aren't just drifting around in the cyberspace black hole.

What's After Toe Dipping?

After I moved out (January 30, 2006), formally separated, and eventually divorced (December 14, 2006) my (now ex-)husband, I took some time off to figure out how the hell I actually ended up in that marriage because I really, really, never want to do or go through that again. I did lots and lots of prayer and meditation, crying, talking with the support system and sponsor, went to lots of meetings, and ended up in therapy. During that time, I avoided anything that even resembled a potential romantic anything. In fact, if I even was even remotely attracted to a guy, I (mentally) ran screaming away, far far away. I was in a place where I couldn't trust myself or my instincts.

After much work, I realized that I had some things to deal with and work through that (of course) had nothing to do with the ex-husband, and everything to do with family of origin stuff (doesn't it always?).

November 2008: I decided it was time I dipped my toe into the pool of dating and romantic relationships. At the suggestion of the therapist, I mentioned to my friends that I was possibly, potentially thinking about, you know, maybe, sort of, well, in the near future, getting back out there. In the dating world. To meet men. For dates. And whatnot.

I joined eHarmony, filled out the 6 pages of questions and waited. I'm glad to see I'm not so screwed up eHarmony rejected me (despite those chemistry.com ads, I did not steal library books). I started getting communication requests and hence, my sucky-second job started.

After a few weeks of emails, I worked up the courage to see if anyone wanted to meet for coffee. Because coffee is way less scary than, you know, food. Like lunch or dinner. Or, good lord, breakfast. Sneakily, my coffee date slid into a lunch date (I mistakenly said noon).

*Cue the chorus*

I'm going on a date tomorrow.

*End cue*

Sure, it's only lunch (that's what T said on the phone. Already - more well-adjusted than I in this particular area). But what the heck, I have to start somewhere.

So what exactly is the next step after I dip my toe? Submerging the foot? Wading up to my waist? Does it depend if I wear make-up and heels or not? Questions, questions, questions.

I'm so clueless about this stuff.

Like Mardi Gras, but in DC

As I hunker down for the long-long weekend (I have Monday and Tuesday off from work), I couldn't help but realize similarities between where I live now, and my last hometown of New Orleans. Note the following similarities:

1. Entire city blocks will be closed to car traffic.

2. Hordes of people (one estimation I heard was 5 million people) will be wandering the streets looking to celebrate.

3. Bars will be open for 24 hours.

4. There will not be enough toilets for the masses of people wandering the streets.

5. People living in the greater DC metro area are renting out their homes and leaving for the weekend.

6. People who haven't left DC had people they haven't talked to in years calling up asking for a place to stay.

7. They are formal balls all weekend.

8. Friday night there is more traffic coming into the city and leaving the city.

9. Tuesday is a federal holiday!

Winter Coats Over the Fur Coats

Maggie and Trouble in their winter coats. I had to bust them out this morning as well as my silk long underwear (to wear under my flannel-lined jeans) for the 0 degree wind chill we had. I still say if I have to suffer through the cold, we should at least get some snow to make everything white and pretty.

Maybe I can get a Battlestar Galactica winter coat at the auction ...