Archive | April, 2011

I guess I might need some tips on hosting.

30 Apr

As I get older, I find I’m less spontaneous than I used to be. Mainly because I’m generally exhausted, but also because I no longer have spontaneous friends who call and propose something fun, last-minute.

So I’m pretty proud that this week I seized on two different opportunities — one was a last-minute dinner at Indique with my friend Betsy, who texted me on her bus ride home, proposing dinner. Awesome. The other was last night… as I was leaving yoga at 7pm my friend Seth texted. I called him and we agreed to meet up an hour later for dinner at my place. Double awesome.

Since I’d just exited yoga, it was a bit of a whirlwind — I walked to Homemade Pizza to pick up a pizza and salad, getting home all of 20 minutes before Seth and Johnny were slated to arrive. I did a quick clean-up of my place, tossed a bottle of bubbles in the fridge, then changed clothes and put on a touch of make-up so I wouldn’t frighten them.

Up until this point, you’re probably pretty impressed with my ability to host on a moment’s notice. I know I was. Where I think I need some help is what to do when my guests arrive. Because while we had a great time catching up, I’m going to guess there are a few parts of the evening that the boys would rather not repeat.

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Who knew I would actually give a shit about the Royal Wedding?

29 Apr

I swear, I haven’t been obsessing about the Royal Wedding. It actually wasn’t even on my radar until I awoke this morning at 5:30 and saw comments on my Facebook news feed. But then I just HAD to turn it on.

And I found myself smiling, and crying, and getting irrationally emotional about an event that affects me in absolutely no way at all. I couldn’t help it — there’s something great about seeing two people so giddily in love that they’re sneaking private glances and beaming uncontrollably in the middle of an otherwise proper event loaded with pomp and circumstance.

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I’m developing an interview-ready Rorschach…

27 Apr

Observation: Sometimes, when it’s not a true disability, it’s actually funny when people can’t see or hear well.

Case in point – my new team was in training for two days in Chicago. My boss pulled out her iPad to share some photos with us. The first photo was of her dog, lying on a doggie bed. One person she showed it to said, “That’s adorable. And it’s so classical looking because it’s in black and white.”

Um. The thing is, the photo wasn’t in black and white. Nothing about it lacked color, from any angle. I’m pretty sure I wrinkled my brow trying to squint my eyes and see it in every possible way, and I could see my boss, shifting the iPad in every direction to see if it appeared even sepia when blurred. It did not.

We both silently shrugged it off, until the next picture popped up, featuring a dog on a different (red) doggie bed with paw prints all over it. “So cute!” the woman exclaimed. “It looks like a ladybug!”

Again with the record scratch. A ladybug?!?

I’m open to creative interpretations – trust me, I LIKE to find animal faces in wood paneling knots – but I just wasn’t seeing this. Then, thirty seconds later she exclaimed, “Oh! There’s a dog there!”

WHAT??? What did you think she was showing us, a pillow?

I’ll cut her some slack – she’s new, she was tired, and she was viewing it on an iPad held at an odd angle across a table. But it still made me giggle.

Given all the psychological evaluations employers perform now to ensure they’re not hiring a freak, it occurred to me that we could patent our own test, using random photos and an iPad. “What do you see here?” I imagine us asking.

Then we present the following image:

And in my mind, the ad promoting this new app I’ve developed sounds like a cross between a Mastercard and an Apple commercial.

Want to find out if your new co-worker is a whack-job?

There’s an app for that.

Confirming she finds butt-humor as funny as you do?


Careful. I’m pretty sure you meant “figuratively.”

26 Apr

Ironically, I think that's a gerbil, not a mouse.

Alan and I both get a kick out of the word “literally,” since so many people use it incorrectly. An example? A colleague of mine recently said, “It was so hot I literally melted!”

My inner monologue then sounds something like, “Really? You literally melted? Then why are you standing here conversing with me? I would think you should still be in a puddle somewhere without lips. Literally.”

Anyway, we had gorgeous weather in DC this past weekend… it was 80 and sunny, so I spent a good amount of time outside. Just before we walked to Mike and Betsy’s place, I ran into the bathroom to pee.

I pulled down my pants and – there, on my leg, was an ant crawling around.

I literally had ants in my pants. Or – I suppose if we’re truly being literal – an ant in my pants.

So this week, whenever someone has asked how my weekend was, I’ve been responding, “I literally had ants in my pants on Saturday.”

I keep waiting for someone like me to call bullshit and say, “Literally? That must’ve been uncomfortable,” expecting to provide me with a lesson on the difference between something literally and figuratively occurring.

But apparently no one is that nerdy, because I’ve just gotten a bunch of puzzled looks. Which is, literally, a shame.

A little taste of Spain in the District.

24 Apr

Image Credit: ©2010 Estadio -

To thank us for dog-sitting Shadow in March, my friends Mike and Betsy treated Alan and me to dinner last night at Estadio, a tapas restaurant in Logan Circle. I’ve often walked past and drooled at the offerings through the window, but I’ve been slow to pull the trigger on a meal there because I’m a) frugal and b) a bottomless pit, which makes tapas a doubly-expensive proposition.

But I’m so glad to have generous friends with good taste, because we were treated to an exceptional evening. I’ll do my best to recreate the meal, just to make my foodie friends hungry…

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