Inaugural BVA Game Night

Last weekend was a weekend of games. Not the bad relationship kind, but the good kind with cards and dice. In an effort to make work seem more fun (yeah, good luck there), Chris and Stephanie have organized a Board of Veterans Appeals game night the first Saturday of every month. We started things out last month with a rousing round of poker! Here are some pictures to document the evening:

I think Kent is really enjoying the cookies I brought. But who can resist the lure of peanut butter chocolate chip oatmeal cookies?

See, I'm doing my best Blue Steel here, but remember what I said about Kent enjoying those cookies? Yeah, looks like they were a hit.

The big joke of the evening was how short Nate's shirt was. He has to be at least 6'3, and when Stephanie and I went to pick him up, he was waiting in the street, wearing this shirt, and looking like an overgrown kid. He stands by his shirt-length though. I'll leave it up to the public to decide.

Stephanie REALLY liked the pizza from Costco.

Todd flexes his muscles and the power of the big stack.

I'm playing the dealer in some heads up action between Todd and Chris. Who will come out the winner?

Yeah, Chris totally won.

All in all it was a fun night with games, great food, and good friends. See you crazy kids next month when the game of choice is euker. Oh, yeah. We're wild and crazy!

New Rugapalooza!

Can you be a "palooza" with only one thing? Well, getting this new rug is exciting enough that I think it merits the suffix.

I have been searching for the perfect rug for my dining room ever since I moved into my condo (almost two years ago). The one I have been using is from my rental townhouse in Williamsburg, and was a 3x5 rug purchased at Ikea about 5 years ago. Fun, bright, with color blocks, it was ok, but it didn't really match the decor and it was a little juvenile for the room. Also too small, since the dining room table barely fit on it.

But getting a new rug is not something I wanted to rush into. I wanted to find the perfect thing, because as we all know, a rug can really tie a room together (so says the Big Lebowski. Or actually the not-Big Lebowski. You know what I mean).

Then finally, one day I found it. While out at the yuppie Herndon Target with Carly, I found the perfect rug. I foolishly decided not to get it then, confident that I could locate it at the Target closer to me. Oh, how naive I was.

Three weeks and three Targets later, I got it! Of course it was "in store only." Bastards. But the story has a happy ending and here it is, making it's public debut, my new dining room rug:

Behold! My new rug!

Extreme close-up!

Ultimate extreme close-up!

Results of Swimming

Now that it's summer and my pool is open, I have been trying to swim about 4-5 days a week. This has resulted in some effects, some hilarious, some mundane. Here they are:

--Sore arms afterwards. Who knew swimming laps every night would result in sore upper arms? I could barely open the refrigerator door. So pathetic. I have no upper body strength.

--Freckles. Lots of them. In fact, I am hoping that my freckles will eventually merge into one giant freckle and it will look like I have a tan!

--Needing to switch to a darker shade of foundation. All this outdoor exposure means I had to move up from the lightest shade of bare minerals to the next-to-lightest. That's kind of a big deal for me. You know the kids at the pool when I was young used to call me "Casper."

--Sudden cravings for chinese food. I don't know what it is about swimming, but it makes me really hungry and it makes me want chinese food. Thus far I have resisted the siren call. But I'm not sure how long I can hold out.

--Higher kid tolerance. The same group of kids swims in the pool every evening, but instead of finding their insistent shouting and laughing annoying...I kind of like it. They were playing sharks and minnows this evening, and was actually really cute and made me nostalgic.

--Less conscience about walking around in a bathing suit. Once it becomes old hat, you kind of don't give a shit anymore.

--Making friends with the Eastern-European lifeguards. The one who was a total bitch to me the first couple days of the summer now totally loves me because my friend Erika and her adorable son Brandon have come to swim several times. Nobody can resist the lure of 18 month old Brandon!

--Better budgeting of my evening time. Spending an hour in the pool every night means I can't afford to just sit on my ass and lull around all night. I gotta get dinner done, do the dishes, pack a lunch for the next day, plus whatever various chores need to be done, and catch up on Weeds, Gilmore Girls, or So You Think You Can Dance.

So the moral is swimming = good!

A bat, a senator, and a red-head walk into a bar...

Ok, not really. But on Sunday I (the red head) went to see The Dark Knight (the bat) with Kim and Mike at the restored Senator theatre in Baltimore (the Senator).

First of all, thoughts on the movie: really good, of course. A bit long, and jam-packed with plot. Maybe too much. Obviously, Heath Ledger was brilliant (and totally freaking scary). I have to say though, for a movie about Batman, it didn't seem to really be about Batman. Harvey Dent (i.e. Two Face) was, in my opinion, the most interesting character.

And now some general thoughts on Baltimore. I used to make fun of Baltimore and describe it as as basically completely ghetto. I would tell people that I had seen Homicide: Life on the Street and knew what was up, which is actually a total lie since I haven't seen Homicide but I do know that Andre Braugher and Richard Belzer are awesome.

ANYWAY, I kinda love Baltimore now. It all started with a two-day training course my job made me take in Baltimore. Walking around downtown, I thought that this was actually a really nice city. And then I saw Hairspray and really loved the portrayal of the city. Yeah, they acknowledged it basically a craphole, but it just had so much character. And then, I began to visit Kim and Mike pretty regularly and began to notice all the pretty architecture, the diversity of the people, the good food and fun in the Inner Harbor....

I'm not saying I want to live there; if you know me at all, you know how I feel about Maryland. But I don't mind visiting. And I can understand why Mike loves it so much.

Oh, and according to Mike, the area of Baltimore Street with all the strip clubs and liquor stores that is like right downtown? It's the safest part of town because the police station is on the same block. Nice.

And now for your viewing pleasure....

Kim is shocked, SHOCKED, by the lack of movie trailers at the Senator Theatre. Seriously, we didn't get to see The Watchmen trailer. Boo.

Me and Kimmy eagerly awaiting the movie. Hey, did you guys hear that Christian Bale just got arrested for assault?? Crazy.

Here's the Senator in all it's glory. Yeah, it's kind of a big deal. For a movie theatre.

Tolerability Index

In a complete rip-off of The Onion, I have decided to prepare my own list of things I've been thinking about this week, rated on a scale of "Oh, Hell No" to "More Please!"

Things that make me want to gouge my eyes out: All these celebrities and their baby pictures. Seriously. First of all, most babies look the same. Like aliens. You can disagree, but until they get to be AT LEAST a couple months old, babies look like aliens, or maybe more accurately, really old people. But the idea that "celebrities" get paid millions of dollars from magazines for the right to first publish their baby photos make me want to be sick. At least Angelina had the decency to donate the money from her baby's pics to charity. As for you, Jamie Lynn Spears and Jessica Alba, shame!

Barely Tolerable: The hype surrounding Dark Knight. Yes, I'll see it (in fact, I'm driving up to Baltimore on Sunday to watch it with Kim at the old restored Senator Theatre), but it's a movie, not the second coming. I am sure Heath Ledger is fantastic in it, and I am trying not to be too hard on the people who are already talking Oscar (but an Oscar? really?), since I haven't actually seen the movie yet, but when I turn on the morning news to find out the weather, I don't need to hear a 10 minute feature on how people without jobs were lining up to see 3 a.m. showing of the movie last night.

And I am actually really looking forward to seeing the movie, it looks like a good flick, although I was disappointed with Batman Begins. I think I'm just too much a Tim Burton girl at heart. Michael Keaton = Batman!

Oooh, I kinda like it!: Trader Joe's Garlic Basil Linguine. Yum!

I could do/watch/listen/read this every day, and twice on Sundays: God, I have gotten so addicted to So You Think You Can Dance. I am actually glad that it is on for 3 hours every week. Especially since I have a DVR, otherwise all the commercials would probably drive me crazy. I love that show awards people who are not only talented, but have worked hard to hone their craft. It's not like they pulled people off the street and are having them compete as dancers. These people have worked their asses for years to become skilled, and it shows! Yay, good competitive reality shows!

Love: Going to see 1964: The Tribute on Wednesday with Doug and Carly. First of all, the Birchmere is a great venue; everywhere has a good sightline, they offer food and drinks, plenty of parking, the atmosphere is chill, and the shows start at 7:30 so I was at home in bed at my usual time. About 20 minutes into the show we decided to screw this sitting thing, and just made our way to the back and danced during the rest of the show. Unlike, RAIN, this band focused on the Beatles early music, stopping just shy of the Sgt. Pepper era when the songs became too complicated to perform live. But it meant that the focus was on the rock-pop and the early Beatles sound. Which was fine by us! Although I think we were some of the youngest people there, it was still a great time and I am definitely planning on seeing them again!

You gotta read this shit to believe it.

Go, J.R.!

File this one under 1) celebrity sightings and 2) balls of steel.

Suck on that, Wolfy.

Postcards from the Edge

I thought I would update everyone on how Mom is doing. She had surgery last week to remove her esophageal cyst (although the cyst ended up being located right at the junction of her stomach and esophagus). She came home from the hospital last Wednesday and has so far been doing fine, although I think she is a bit surprised at how slow the recovery process has been. To be fair, the Doctor did tell her it would take approximately 6 weeks.

She is not able to eat solid food yet, her stomach and esophagus are still too swollen, but has been getting along fine on pudding, yogurt, jell-o, rice pudding, and various pured items such as tuna and pasta salad. Oh, and Vicodin. Gotta love the pain killers.

Anyway, she is hanging in, and while I think she is starting to get tired of feeling icky, every day she gets a little better. And she has a pretty cool incision midway down her chest, like Frankenstein! Just one more battle scar to talk about at dinner parties. ;o)

Shut yo mouth, I'm just talking bout America.

As the birth of our nation approaches, this seems like a good a time as any to think about what it means to be an American.

US fun fact: The Declaration of Independence was actually signed on July 1, but was formerly adopted and read aloud on July 4.

We Americans have had to put up with a lot of crap lately. And yeah, it's our own fault, since we elected that baboon of a President who has basically tarnished our reputation with everyone in the international community. And our economy is in the toilet. And our citizens stupidly bought McMansions they knew they couldn't afford and are now being foreclosed every which way but loose.

But that is neither here nor there.

I think it's up to every person to determine what being an American means. To me, it means bearing the responsibility of living in one of the freest countries in the world. You can become complacent, choose not to vote, sit on your ass with your playstation and bitch about how the world is going to hell in a hand basket....or, you can do SOMETHING.

It doesn't need to be a big something. You can read the paper and stay informed. Volunteer your time occasionally. Donate money occasionally. Talk to your friends, engage them in discourse, learn about differing points of view. Talk to people who have different experiences than you. You know, easy stuff.

But most of all, to me being an American is about the responsibility to learn. To not just accept the world at your doorstep. You don't need to become a world traveler. Books can teach us a lot of stuff. So can other people. And magazines, and newspapers, and tv shows (what up, NOVA?). By learning, you better yourself, and by bettering yourself, you better what is around you.

Freedom = the right to have your ideas heard.

To me, one of the best quotes about what America is comes from the movie The American President. Yeah, yeah, bear with me. Aaron Sorkin may be a coke-head, but he is a brilliant writer. So check out this speech from President Andrew Shepherd:

America isn't easy. America is advanced citizenship. You gotta want it bad, 'cause it's gonna put up a fight. It's gonna say "You want free speech? Let's see you acknowledge a man whose words make your blood boil, who's standing center stage and advocating at the top of his lungs that which you would spend a lifetime opposing at the top of yours. You want to claim this land as the land of the free? Then the symbol of your country can't just be a flag; the symbol also has to be one of its citizens exercising his right to burn that flag in protest. Show me that, defend that, celebrate that in your classrooms. Then, you can stand up and sing about the "land of the free".

So, yeah. I'm proud to be an American. It's better than being Canadian, right? Just kidding!

What will I be doing July 4? Watching 1776 of course. One of the most historically accurate movies ever made. I'm serious. I'm not saying the Founding Fathers would burst into song, but the movie is brilliant.

With a little help from my friends.

As things get crazy around here, I bring to you my first ever post from a guest blogger. So sit back, and enjoy a post from my friend, Tito!

So today I was looking at my Google talk and like every other day I checked out everyone's status. Margaret had posted a link to her blog on her status so I followed. This led me to pictures of the awesome rainbow on Wednesday. If you didn't see it live, make sure you check out the pics below, it was awesome, not only was the rainbow mad bright but there was a double rainbow!!! Maggie was even able to get where the rainbow ended! First time I've ever seen that!

To this end, I decided to give Maggie a hard time about not posting about either one of her trips to Wolf trap last week (one trip to see some show I don't remember, and the other to see RAIN: The Beatles Experience). She then decided that hey, Tito's complaining, I should totally make him write my blog entry and here I am, my name is Tito and I will be your guest blogger for today :-D

Now, let's start with Maggie's first trip to wolf trap. She went to a show with Carlymo. The End.

Moving on to Maggie's second trip to Wolf Trap. It was AWESOME. It was especially awesome because Tito, Ros, Tito and Ros' Mom, Julie, Jon, Kel, and Carlymo were there! Carlymo and Maggie were awesome and got there early to reserve a nice space on the lawn and we all had a great time. Rain as always put on a GREAT show and we all danced (including Maggie in her blue poncho which made her look like she had only hands and no arms, it was grrreat), sang along, and had a great time overall. We all brought food to share and Maggie hooked us up with cupcakes (High Five!!), and Carly of course provided the liquor (lick-her, giggity), I forget what it was called exactly, but it was from the Czech Republic and was rather interesting, it was strong at first, seemed to calm down a lot, and then came back up to level out nicely, for you engineers out there, Strong-->Weak-->Smooth.

Oh, I can't forget to mention Maggie's traumatic growing experience with a douche bag Aussie at the wolf trap gate. Apparently Mr. Douche decided he'd mash his GIGANTIC (like King Kong size) folding chairs into Maggie causing her to almost fall backwards and suffer great injury. When she wimperingly asked Mr. Douche to be more careful he told her to "Step back Bitch!" Maggie decided to be the better man, eh, woman and bite her tongue instead of backhanding Mr. Douche so hard he ended up in China. (disclaimer – Tito may have taken soooome liberty in telling this story….)

All in all, the concert was great and I found it a very nice touch when the group played "Birthday", considering that the very next day was my mother's birthday :-D She had a great time and helped all of us to relax and enjoy the night. I'd recommend them to anyone that is a Beatles fan.

Ok, fans I'm ending this here, considering that Germany and Turkey are tied 2-2 in the 2^nd half and I need to get my work done so I can get outta here and see Kel :-) It has been my pleasure to write to you and I hope I you enjoyed my stories.

Love,

Tito


Maggie here again. Thanks for the great post, Tito! Unfortunately, due to the sputtering rain before the show started and Wolftrap's no photograph's policy enforced by Stalin-like park service officers, I only got one pic of the night. But it's a cute one of Tito's sister Ros and their Mom.

Awwww.

Now that's what I call a good omen

It has been raining everyday the past few weeks. Yeah, I'm not exaggerating. It has been raining every FREAKING day. It starts out sunny and nice, just enough to make me feel bad that I have to spend the day cooped up at work, and then when I get home and am all ready to hit the pool, it rains. Now I usually love thunderstorms, I really like watching them blow in on my balcony, but not when I want to go swimming.

The upside of these recent storms, is that they have been accompanied by some gorgeous rainbows. The first one I spotted last Wednesday when my Dad and I took my Grandmother to dinner (apparently, she loves the hamburgers at Chilis. Who knew?). But I didn't have my camera with me.

But this time! I was prepared. As I was getting ready to leave to run some errands last night, I happened to glance out the window, and there it was. A huge, bright, double rainbow. Camera in hand, I sprung into action!

Super Action Double Rainbow!

You can actually see where the rainbow ends here. It goes right into the roof of this house. So do those people have a pot of gold? Because I will totally break in and steal that shit.

This was taken when the rainbow was fading. You can see how it got cut in half by a cloud. Pretty cool, huh?

I called my Mom to tell her about the rainbow, and she said that it must be a good omen for her surgery on Thursday. Which I think sounds exactly right. :o)

Latest and the Greatest

I've been receiving a lot of questions about my Mom lately, so I thought I would take the chance to fill everyone in. Mom is currently scheduled for surgery to remove her esophageal cyst on Thursday, June 26. It will require her to be in the hospital for about 2 days (hopefully no more than that), and they are going to be doing a mid-line abdominal incision.

I am trying really hard to not be nervous about this and to think that everything will end up fine. As I am 90% sure it will be. It's just that other 10% that makes me worry. At least Bill will be here with us.

As for her heart, her surgeon ordered a stress test for her to make sure her heart would be ok during the operation, and she passed with flying colors. So her heart seems to be doing fine.

But then Tim Russert died of a heart attack at the age of 58. Only a few years older than Mom. And all of a sudden we are confronted with her mortality again. And I'm not ashamed to admit, it's freaked me out a little. I just wish the surgery and the aftermath was all over and then I wouldn't have to worry about it.

PLUS, I have my first doctor's appointment in more years than I care to admit tomorrow. And that makes me nervous about myself. I mean, with my recent family history (including my Aunt's thyroid cancer--she's fine btw), it's scary to think that something might be wrong. But, if it is, I know it's better to find out. And I am sure it will be ok. I am the picture of health. *snort*

Anyway, that's where things stand. Basically, I am trying to not let myself freak out about the next couple weeks. Let's see how successful I am!

Color Splash!

UPDATE: Purple it is in a landslide, 7 to nothing. Thanks, everyone!

Ok, time to get some fashion advice from my friends. I have picked out the dress I want to get for when I go on my fabulous Mediterranean cruise with Chris and Kent in September (!!!), but I need help on picking out which color. Here are the options:

Purple

Or green

I really like them both. Purple is my favorite color, but green used to be my favorite. Also, I am a redhead, so green would be the classic choice. But the purple would look hot with my pasty, hopefully non-sunburned skin. Since both are jewel tones, I think they would both look great, but I just can't decide! Also, both come with the little black bolero that the green one is shown with, so don't let influence your decision. Leave a comment/email/IM me with your vote!

PS: I literally just cheered because I spelled Mediterranean right on the first try. Booya!

Picture > 1000 Words

I stumbled across these pictures online the other day, and just felt the need to share them. I'm not going to include any commentary, I don't think the pictures need it.


Here is a lone Jewish woman resisting Israeli security forces in the West Bank. It won the Pulitzer Prize for Oded Balilty.



This year's Pulitzer runner-up was taken by Mahmud Hams of Agence France-Presse. It shows an Israeli rocket about to land on Palestinian villagers in a refugee camp in the Gaza Strip.



A man walks on a street strewn with bullet casings in Monrovia (the capital of Liberia). Carolyn Cole won the Pulitzer prize in 2004 with a set of pictures including this one.


If you want to see some more Pulitzer pictures, go here. But be warned. Some of them will break your heart, and I'm not kidding.

Ocean City Beach Memoirs

So it's taken me an entire month to get these pictures up and blog about my beach adventures. Suck it up, people. Good stuff is worth waiting for, right?

The story begins several months ago with a series of Friday nights when Doug and I were at our friend Erika's house playing a little Dance, Dance, Revolution. As you do. Erika often has us over for such get-togethers and we all hang out and have fun. And dance, dance! Erika is the mother of an adorable 1.5 year old boy (Brandon). And when cute kids are around, fun will be had!

One day this winter, Carly and I, in our conspiratorial fashion, were chatting about fun things we could do with Erika and Brandon. I mentioned that my friend and former realtor Gloria owns a condo in Ocean City right on the boardwalk and the beach. And would two of us thought, wouldn't it be fun to take Erika and Brandon there? So I sent an email around and received an instant response from Erika that she would love to go and that Brandon had never been to the beach. So the plan was in motion and we were off to the beach come May!

Finally, the day arrived, and after spending 5 or so hours in traffic (grrrr) we arrived at the condo and settled in for a weekend of relaxation. Walking down the boardwalk, watching movies (Doug had never seen The Princess Bride, can you imagine?) playing miniature golf, eating white cheese popcorn (more addictive than heroin), it was a weekend of fun and frolic that was over too quickly.

I know what you're thinking. Less talk, more pictures. Ok, fine. Enjoy!

I hate to say it, but I think Brandon rocks my sunglasses better than I ever could.

Erika and Brandon!

Hey, putting a shirt on is harder than it looks.

Storytime! 5 bucks says it's Baby Beluga.

Kite store!

The carnival at the end of the boardwalk.

Brandon and Erika jam to the boardwalk musicians.

Hey, you would tired too if you walked 5 miles down the boardwalk!

Doug engages in a little kite-flying.

Carly and me on the beach.

When playing mini-golf, if the ball doesn't go where you want, just see if mama will let you toss it in. Works for me.

Watch out for the dinosaurs on the course.

Group shot!

Seriously, how cute is this kid?

Let's give it another 15 years before we start driving, ok, Brandon?

In the meantime, skeeball is always a good idea.

Why you gotta stomp the sand castles, Carly? Why?

Car Goes Boom

The bad news: I had an unfortunate run-in with a pillar in a parking garage.

The good news: I got a sweet-ass rental car out of the deal. 2007 Corolla, baby!

So here is the story. Two weeks ago, post-bookclub, I was preparing to drive my Mom back to her place. (Side note: yes, my mom and I are in a bookclub. In fact, I started the bookclub with the express purpose of getting my mom out of the house more and out into society. Bear in mind this was PHA (pre-heart attack)). So we were in the car, in the new parking garage that is built behind my favorite restaurant (Faccia Luna) and the new, very cool, coffeehouse where the bookclub meeting was held.

Picture me and mom in the car. Now picture me trying to convince her to go to Trader Joe's. And her giving me many valid reasons why she doesn't want to go. And then me forgetting there is a pillar on the immediate right side of my car, turning the wheel too far, and scraping against it. Boo.

Therefore, the car (MY car, that I LOVE), is in the shop for a week and half and I get to drive a kickass rental car. But now! My car is fixed! Huzzah!

Insurance quote of the week:

Insurance Agent: "So is there any damage to your car?"
Me: "Yes, there is a scrape and a dent."
Insurance Agent: "And is the pillar ok?"
Me:"...."

It's Not a Tumah

Actually, it really isn't a tumor. Yay!

As you probably know, for the past several months, I have been walking with the big C word in my head. As in cancer. As in, my mom might have. While the doctor who performed her first endoscopy at the beginning of this month told us that the mass in her stomach/esophagus looked "completely benign," there were no assurances until we got the biopsy results from a deeper biopsy back.

Well, that endoscopy/biopsy/sonogram was yesterday at Fairfax Hospital. It was conducted by the head of the gastroenterology department ( as my mom put it, "I'm clearly a VIP"). After poking the mass with a needle and seeing fluid come out (eeeew), the doctor determined that it was an esophageal cyst, since tumors are not filled with pus. TMI, I know, but come on, it's good news.

A biopsy was taken, and I guess I should really wait to celebrate until I know those results for sure, but this is very good news, everyone! The doctor said that since it's not a tumor, there were no plans to operate and they would just check up on the cyst every 1-2 years. Woot!

Sgt. Pepper vs. Revolver

As I embark on an epic rewatch of The Beatles Anthology, I got to wondering. Where do I come down on the age-old Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band vs. Revolver debate? Which one is actually better? For a long time, it seemed that most people came down on the Sgt. Pepper side, declaring it not only the best of The Beatles' albums, but one of the best rock albums of all time. But Revolver has recently been gaining in popularity and status. So, what better way to determine this then a song by song match-up?

Taxman vs. Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band

While Taxman marks the beginning of George Harrison really making a hefty contribution to The Beatles catalogue, he comes off as kind of whiny. I'm so sorry that you have to give some of your millions to The Man, George, but seriously. We all hate paying taxes, blah blah blah. It does have a pretty kickin beat though. But Sgt Pepper is just....classic. From the fade-in on the audience, to Paul doing his gravely voice thing he does so well to the awesome random french horn quartet in the middle.

Winner: Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. Nothing beats the french horn, dude.


Eleanor Rigby vs. With a Little Help From My Friends

Argh! A really tricky match-up, and we are only on the second song. Eleanor Rigby, with its haunting melody, depressing lyrics, and amazing string accompaniment is one of the songs you turn on when the day is dreary and you want to feel better about your own crappy life. But With a Little Help From My Friends is the song you get drunk to and sing along with your buds (like in Across the Universe). Also, this is pretty much the perfect song for Ringo (I mean, Billy Shears) other than Yellow Submarine. But more on that later.

Winner: Eleanor Rigby. If this was the Joe Crocker verison of With a Little Help...it might take it, but for the blending of classical and rock sensibilities, you gotta give it to Eleanor.


I'm Only Sleeping vs Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds

I'm a big fan of I'm Only Sleeping. Who doesn't want to just lie in bed all day and bitch at people who make noise? Also, it features George Harrison playing his guitar solo backwards and forwards. Not that I knew that until Wikipedia told me. Whatever. But Lucy...to me, it's like Willy Wonka, you know? It describes this amazing candyland and whether it's an acid trip or based on a drawing by Julian, it doesn't really matter. The tamboura and organ give it this off-kilter feeling, as do the key and meter changes. But underneath it all, Lucy is basically a nursery rhyme.

Winner: Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds


Love You To vs. Getting Better

Confession: I am a sucker for a good sitar. I got my friend Julie at work (who is Indian) to make me a copy of this awesome CD she has with dudes singing in Arabic with sitar and hip-hop beats. And Love You To has a really great beat and, hello, sitar. But the actual melody and song = meh. Whereas Getting Better is one of those Beatles songs that I am convinced are part of our cultural memory, that we know coming out of the womb, and that I didn't even know was a Beatles song until I was like 15. But then, I think it was also used in a Target commercial which kind of takes away from the mystique.

Winner: Getting Better. It's classic, you can't fight it.


Here, There, and Everywhere vs. Fixing a Hole

Here, There, and Everywhere is a classic romantic song. And Paul's voice is so delicate. But Fixing a Hole is quirky in that Sgt. Pepper fashion, and it's also an ode to marijuana. Woo? And it's just so damn catchy!

Winner: Here, There, and Everywhere. Who am I to argue with Paul McCartney and George Martin who both say it is one of their favorite songs.


Yellow Submarine vs. She's Loving Home

She's Leaving Home is classic McCartney. Sweeping melody, lovely cello in the background, sung about loss and heartache. But Yellow Submarine is....come on, Yellow Submarine! It was required in my elementary school music class that we learn this song. You have not lived until you have heard a classroom full of 10 year olds singing this son. And he lived beneath the waves, in a yellow submarine...

Winner: Yellow Submarine. Sorry, Paul. In this case, quirk and cute beats lovely.


She Said She Said vs. Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite

Hmm. Tough. She Said She Said has this insidious power of getting into my head and not leaving. Even sitting here just THINKING about the song is enough to lodge it into my cranium where it will probably remain for the rest of the weekend. Gotta love that syncopation. Mr. Kite is pretty much the quintessential Sgt. Pepper song, where on the surface it makes no sense, but when you look deeper...it still makes no sense. But, hey! It was written when John Lennon saw a circus poster, and that's cool, right? See how craaazy John Lennon is??

Winner: She Said She Said. Sorry, Mr. Kite.


Good Day Sunshine vs. Within You Without You

Winner: Good Day Sunshine. Come on. No summer day is complete without it. Within You Without You = yawn.


And Your Bird Can Sing vs. When I'm Sixty-Four

Oh, man. How am I supposed to decide? The harmonies in Bird rock my world. And the call and answer style is so fun to sign along with. But When I'm Sixty-Four is so great. It's cute, yes, but it also makes you want to love someone that way. Where you will take care of them even when they are old and slow and wrinkly. And it features clarinets, which is like, unheard of in a rock song. AND according to Wikipedia, it was one of the first songs Paul McCartney wrote; it was written when he was only 16.

Winner: When I'm Sixty-Four. It's probably one of my favorite songs of all time, and the great thing is, it appeals to all age-groups. Old people like it, because it's about them, and young people like it because it's awesome.


For No One vs. Lovely Rita

Nobody can appreciate a song about a meter maid as much as me, because I am the type who gets unrequited crushes on UPS guys, strangers on the bus, the grocery store bagging guy...you know, people who you see in these tiny little portions of their life. But For No One gets in your head, not in the catchy pop way, but in the "OMG this song is following me around and trying to tell me something about life."

Winner: For No One. You can get the same vibe as Rita from Lady Madonna. But there's not really another tragic tale like For No One. I mean, Eleanor Rigby is depressing (see above discussion), but For No One is about once-happy lives falling apart. That's rough. And important.


Doctor Robert vs. Good Morning Good Morning

I'm kinda ambivalent on both of these. Doctor Robert is fun I guess, and Good Morning is interesting, but *shrug*

Winner: Doctor Robert. It's just a better rock song. And those "good mornings" get really annoying.


I Want to Tell You vs. Sgt. Pepper (reprise)

You go, George Harrison! I Want to Tell You is cool. It's almost like...it's a long piece of taffy that stretches out and gets better and better. Does that make sense? It has a meandering, but not directionless sound, and while it gets wordy, the piano pounding in the background drives it forward. Sgt Pepper in the reprise is cool, starting in a new key and modulating back to the original (I love modulation!), but we've heard it before.

Winner: I Want to Tell You.


Got to Get You into My Life vs. A Day in the Life

Ooooh. Tricky. Ok, so A Day in the Life has that awesome orchestral chord and crescendo smack in the middle. And I love the little snippet of Paul's song ("woke up, got out of bed, ran a comb across my head..." This song is so progressive and so different than what other people were doing. It is one of the most famous Beatles songs and is probably one of Lennon's most powerful works. Got to Get You into My Life has the horns and the hints of motown. And the sparse instrumentation at the refrain. Sometimes simple is better. But I don't think it is this time.

Winner: A Day in the Life. It's just...the Beatles, you know? It's THEM. It encapsulates everything they stood for.

And bonus point for Revolver: Tomorrow Never Knows. Because there isn't anything else on Sgt. Pepper to compare it to.

Final tally: Revolver = 9 points, Sgt. Pepper = 4.

Ok, so I guess I Revolver is better. Alert the media, folks!

The Big Lebows...er, The Big Disappointment

I really like the Arlington Cinema and Drafthouse. But after waiting 2.5 hours for the Dudefest to start (special showing of The Big Lebowski!) and the power blows 15 minutes into the movie, I really hated the Arlington Cinema and Drafthouse.

Especially considering the management's response was "we are rescheduling for 2 weeks from now and you have to let us know RIGHT NOW if you need a refund or you won't get one and you have to wait another hour for us to run all your food and drink bills by hand."

Whatever.

So Doug, Tony, Tito and I are having our own Dudefest this Saturday. Which will be better because:

1) Tito's sound system rocks my world,

2) We will have a cook-out first,

3) With cupcakes for dessert,

4) We can lie around in our bathrobes, The Dude style.

Fuck it, Dude. Let's go bowling.

Another day, another engagement. Yay for Joe and Caroline! I think September 2009 sounds like a lovely time for a wedding.

You know, I never thought I would be married by the time I was 30, but I am beginning to feel like the odd man out. At brunch on Sunday with my law school friends, I had a total Bridget Jones moment:

Me: Can we please have separate checks?
Waitress: Sure, how should I split them?
Caroline and Joe: We're together.
Lori and Todd: We're together.
Moe and Brian: We're together.
Me: I'm alone.
Waitress: So, together, together, together, alone.
Me: *sigh*

And it's not like I want to be married right now. Ick. But I guess it's nice to have someone else like you.

But anyway, this is a time of celebration! So, congrats to Caroline and Joe!


Wedding Watch:

Andrea and Justin, November 2008

Lori and Todd, May 2009

Caroline and Joe, September 2008

Who will be next??

Learnin the Lingo

Now that I am well into my late 20s (how did THAT happen?), it's important for me to try to keep up with what the kids are doing/saying/watching these days. I really don't want to become a fuddy-duddy. Although, I feel like using the term fuddy-duddy is in itself evidence that I am a big fuddy-duddy.

I've seen High School Musical and High School Musical 2, I've watched Hannah Montana, I've read the Twilight Saga, so I'm not exactly hopelessly out of date. And it seems the latest craze is internet focused and is called "rickrolling."

Haven't heard of it? Allow me to demonstrate:

OMG you gusys!!!!111!!! Here is the latest Hannah Montana video!! LOL!

And then you click on the link, and see Rick Astley and his slammin dance moves from the video for "Never Gonna Give You Up." The irony is that the people with whom this prank is most popular, were not alive or even a twinkle in their father's eye, when this song came out. But it's still wacky and weird and kinda awesome.

Here is the urban dictionary definition of rickrolled:

rickroll
	To post a misleading link with a subject that promises to be exciting or interesting, e.g. "World of Starcraft in-game footage!" or "Paris Hilton blows Busta Rhymes' dick" but actually turns out to be the video for Rick Astley's debut single, "Never Gonna Give You Up". A variant on the duckroll. Allegedly hilarious.

It's the "allegedly hilarious" that makes it art. Also Paris Hilton?? Ew.

Oh, and here's a link to an interview with Rick himself. I swear that's a real link btw.

Yeah, I'm a yuppie alright.

This article prompted the following conversation between Caroline and myself on google chat, with the inevitable conclusion that I am a yuppie. You didn't think I spent time working at work did you?

caroline: hee! That link cracks me up dude

me: me too. white people love farmer's markets!

caroline: and 80's nights!

me: and I was just saying I needed to go to the old town one soon and get some fresh fruits/veggies. I love 80s nights!

caroline: hahaha. i know!

me: but I don't think I make enough money to be a true yuppie

caroline: i don't know dude. you do own a condo.

me: hmmm. true. but! it's only like 800 sq.ft.

OMG

am I a yuppie??

caroline: it's possible that you are

me: but my cell phone is totally ghetto

and my tv is 5 years old

and my computer is held together with duct tape

I am on the verge

eeep!

caroline: HAHAHA

caroline: i think the duct tape kills it

you're safe

me: whew

caroline: for now

hee

me: what about you? you love Apple

caroline: yeah, i know. but i share a two-br apartment with two other people and two cats

i don't think that's very yuppie

although i do have a pretty new phone

and i live in the suburbs

for the moment

eek!

me: even worse. you live in ARLINGTON

caroline: dude, you live in the suburbs too

me: but, dude. Clarendon?

yuppie central

case in point, Mike lived there

caroline: but, okay, you have a point. moe even calls it "yuppieville"

me: we are probably tied

caroline: i suspect you're right

me: we both get some yuppie points deducted for being government workers

caroline: woot!

me: so now I have to put this conversation on my blog

which probably proves that I am, in fact, a yuppie

caroline: ...yes, i suspect it does

me: well, I am sure as hell taking you with me

caroline: HAHAHA

I said YUPPIE.

That's more like it.

Actually, I think the biggest clue that we are both yuppies is how many times we both say, "dude." I never really noticed it before now.

Satire or just bad taste? You decide

Gene Weingarten from The Washington Post spent a lot of time today in his online chat talking about this article. It was written by a college student and was intended to be a scathing satire on the subject of racism at his school (think Jonathan Swift and the Irish eating their babies).

Apparently, a lot of people didn't get the joke. The author was forced to apologize and to attend "racial sensitivity" classes, and was suspended from his college newspaper. Which I find, frankly, ridiculous.

Don't get me wrong, it's not the best example of satire. The story in the beginning about the Asian kid at the racquetball court was confusing, and I don't really see how it fits into the article as a whole. But it was clear (to me at least) from the very beginning that it was meant to be funny. And I laughed out loud a couple times, especially when the butterfly nets were broke out.

But you know what? It was clearly a joke. And the fact that the kid was punished for writing is completely wrong. Satire is supposed to be irreverent, it's supposed to be upsetting, it's supposed to make you THINK about the TRUTH the author is reaching around (pun intended).

In fact, from dictionary.com:

Satire: the use of irony, sarcasm, ridicule, or the like, in exposing, denouncing, or deriding vice, folly, etc.

So, seriously Boulder, Colorado? Are you really that sensitive?

File this one under lame.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Although the unofficial moto for today is, "everyone is Irish on St. Patrick's Day," I take delight in the fact that I am actually Irish. Go, me! But I do expect everyone to wear green or be pinched. I even threatened my judge with pinching. And in a delightful bonus, he promised not to file a sexual harassment claim!

I knew today would go well when on the Metro this morning I saw two (count 'em, two!) hot red-headed boys. Yay! And then the mechanic called me and told me my car was an easy fix and would NOT cost me thousands of dollars as I had feared all day yesterday.

Tonight the Riley clan (that is, my non-Jewish relatives) are indulging in a good-old fashioned Irish supper with corn beef, cabbage, potatoes, and soda bread. You can take the immigrant out of Ireland, but you can't take the potatoes out of the immigrant. Or something along those lines.

In the spirit of St. Pat's, check out this article from The Washington Post about red-heads. Very gripping stuff. I have to say, my red hair never made my feel like an outsider. I was never really teased about it or anything. There were SO MANY other things for children to tormet me about, I guess the hair thing never really came up.

And here's a website devoted to Irish jokes (warning: some are quite lame). Here is my fav:

--An Englishman, an Irishman and a Scotsman were reading a newspaper article about which nationalities' brains were for sale for transplant purposes. An Irishman's or a Scotsman's brain could be bought for £500 but an Englishman's brain cost £10,000. That proves,' said The Englishman, 'that Englishmen are much cleverer than Irishmen or Scotsmen.'
'No it doesn't,' said The Irishman, 'it just means that an Englishman's brain has never been used.'

AHHHHH MOTHERLAND!

Currently Watching: The Amazing Mrs. Pritchard. Great BBC show!

Currently Reading: The Judas Strain, by James Rollins. Think Tom Clancy, but easier to follow and with more fuzzy science. It's all about a scientist secret agents! No, seriously, it is.

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince preview!!!

Awesome.

Things we know:

1) Matt Lewis hot

2) the scene with Draco and Harry hiding in the train car will be in the film

3) Emma looks good with blonde hair

4) Poor Rupert is never going to live down macking with Lavender Brown

Ladies and gents, I bring you....the Gayest Songs Of All Time!

I won't ruin the surprise for you, but let's just say I don't disagree with the top 10.

Spring spelled backward is Gnirps!

I know that it's only the beginning of March, but it really feels like Spring is right around the corner. Most people love to wax philosophic about Spring; how it's a time of renewal, how much they love warm weather and tanning and skin cancer, and they love seeing the little trees bud, yadda yadda. Me? I don't like Spring. There. I said it.

It's just....it gets hot, ok? I don't like hot weather. I like layering clothes and wearing cute sweaters and boots and I really really REALLY hate sweating. Remember, this is DC. It's so humid here you can literally see makeup leaking off people's faces. It ain't pretty folks. And while I don't have allergies, when I go to my car and the pollen is so deep I have to use an ice scraper to get it off, something is not right.

The one thing I will begrudgingly give Spring is that it provides beautiful evenings. After being holed up in my windowless office all day, when I can come home, open all my windows, and enjoy a nice breeze it sure does feel good. And I SUPPOSE all the new plant growth means it smells nice outside. And there is something to be said for not freezing my butt off at 6:30 in the morning waiting for the bus. But I am NOT about to run outside and start singing songs about how great Spring is, or how cute little lambs are when they are born, or any of that other lame movie-musical Spring stuff. No siree. Not now, not ever.

Cherry blossoms are pretty too. Damn you, Spring!