People Who Rock. People Who Suck. Late night version.

People Who Rock:

1. Alicia Keys, just cause;
2. Grad School BF's friends for taking me on a weekend outing;
3. The friends who danced the night away (to 90s music!) last night avec moi;
4. Zipcar for understanding that I'm always 3 minutes late;
5. The US Olympians - we're kicking Germany's ass and I LOVE IT (GSBF, though he is not a German, loves that country. That's cause HIS country doesn't have an Olympic team. Wah wah);
6. GSBF for taking me out to dinner when I really, really needed it; and
7. Grace for being the most awesome sister I have, ever. Congrats again lady.

People Who Suck:

1. Douche bags who can't drive. Especially those with Pennsylvania license plates;
2. I'm still not over the John Mayer thing, so him again;
3. All the jobs I'd be perfect for but 1. won't consider me because I don't know someone AND 2. aren't making it obvious that they exist. Hello? I am highly employable. Even if that's not true, I bake ALL THE TIME FOR MY FUCKING COWORKERS DAMNIT;
4. Trader Joe's (I know!!!) for being out of lambrusco yet AGAIN;
5. Stephen Baldwin. Schmuck;
6. USA for no SVU marathon this week. My DVR ran out of episodes last week cause of the snoverkill - GIVE ME MY BENSON AND STABLER; and
7. Anyone who said, about Joe Stack "I don't agree with what he did but I know exactly why he did it." No friends. No. Just... no.

I am out of town this weekend so I will also be off the blog. But I'll be back and raring to go on Monday. Happy happy!

In short

So.

I don't have a lot of time (remember what I said about Wednesdays being shit days?) but I wanted to let you guys know what's up - thank you all SO much for the (kind of overwhelming) support from yesterday! I really appreciated the comments and emails, and so you guys should know what's up.

I hope you're not disappointed, ha.

On Monday night GSBF and I wanted tea before bed. Luckily, we had just purchased (what we thought was) a brand new tea kettle! So he put the pot on, went to his desk, and me to my... desk? Ok, couch. to finish doing whatever work we had ("work" obviously meaning "Gilmore Girls reruns" on my end) before we went to sleep.

It was the scene of domesticated bliss.

Until there was suddenly a lot POP! from the kitchen. GSBF said - what the fuck was that and as I looked over to the doorway, I saw smoke billowing out of my beautiful beautiful favorite room. In shocked, I ran over to the windows to open them (yeah, cause that's brilliant) while he ran into the room and found our (not a) tea kettle in flames on the stove, with the associated burner also consumed. I ran in after him and much to my alarm the flames were licking the bottom of our cabinets.

At this point I must say that all those great descriptive words people use to describe fire are dead on. I only understood it now.

Anyway, he grabbed the (not a) kettle and threw it in the sink and doused it, while I dumped the contents of our brita pitcher onto the stove, and continued to refill and pour until the flames were out. In short?

We were so fucking lucky.

There was NO structural damage, MINIMAL smoke damage, and we caught it without having to call the fire department. Sure, there was soot all over the dining room and the apartment smelled like ass (burnt plastic ass) for a little while, but in the end - if you're gonna have a fire, this is the way to do it.

And so!

Yesterday was a day of airating (that isn't spelled correctly but I don't have the time to figure out what is correct), cleaning, school, cleaning, airating, wash, rinse, repeat. It was rough, but we weren't complaining. And so that was our very small disaster.

In other news - you all should buy fire extinguishers.

Thank you all AGAIN for the wonderfulness. You lit a warm, cozy... well. Something. of happiness in me.

We'll get back to our original programming

But we had a small disaster last night. A teeny one, really. But scary. Everything and everyone is alright, but it's kind of put blogging on a 24 hour hold. More info later today.

Love is effing hard

So.

Two weeks ago Grad School BF and I had a historic fight. We'll get to that in a second, but I'd like to say a few things. One, yes, it has taken me 2 weeks to be able to talk about it (well, except to Becca, who got a drunkish hysterical phone call and slew of texts during the fight and Chelsea, who got stuck next to a drunk me the following evening at a snowed-in event) because it was That Bad. Two, I was GOING to post this tomorrow, but then I saw a really nice story and realized that Love is Hard is the message for the day BEFORE vday, while Love (all kinds!) is Worth It was the more appropriate message for the day AFTER it, and so, no post on the day. Catch up with me on Monday to hear the redeeming story after today's rambly shit show.

So let's get started!

The Fight had been building for a week, since we were at a wedding and I stupidly did that thing that girls do that goes something like this, "why do you love me, how much do you love me, but are you IN love with me" etc etc and he (even more stupidly) answered incorrectly to one of those questions.

We're like two idiots in love.

Actually, apparently, we weren't. When he said something along the lines of "you know I'm in love with you" I said "actually, no, you've never said that before" and he was like "well, I mean, I don't know" and I froze up and what was very playful and joking because a "holyshitIlivewiththisperson AND heisn'tinlovewithme AND ooooooooohmygodwe'regoingtobreakup AND thenIwillbehomeless AND IgetcoldreallyREALLYeasily."

To be fair.

There really isn't a RIGHT answer to those faux playful games. If I'm being completely honest with all of you (as I was with him two weeks ago - getting there!) he had been in touch with his ex girlfriend a few times the week prior.

Because her mom is dying.

And I am a terrible person, it's true, but it had made all my flashy warning lights go up, because why did he need to talk to her twice AND text her a few days later AND also mention that he was thinking of her one time?

BECAUSE HER MOM IS DYING.

Look, I'm not saying I'm rational. I'm saying, the big scary flashy light went on, though nothing happened but still, a little seed of scared doubt was planted, and then a few days after that he gave me an in to push the "do not push" button and I did it, and of course he didn't play the "you're the only person I've ever and will ever love(d)" and I punished him for it.

For a week.

That was a lot of weird little things, no? Seemed like that Mousetrap game from when we were kids. Remember that game? Wasn't it AWESOME? Well, when it worked I guess, which it didn't always.

I digress.

So then we had this uneasy, tiptoeing around each other week when I consulted Anna and Becca and decided that sure, of course, I was totally OK with him not being in love with me, I mean what does "in love" mean, and isn't he great? he totally is and so am I and we really are fine. Really.

Until.

Friday night before that minor snowstorm a few weeks ago that closed the city and then I mocked it (before the major snowstorms that closed the city quite rightfully. Mostly) I had dinner with a few of my girls and then had plans to go to a birthday party with Grad School BF for a girl I'm not quite friends with. But we had some time to kill, so we saw "Up in the Air."

That was a mistake.

Don't get me wrong, it was a LOVELY movie. Funny, sad, poignant, very "this is the way we live" etc etc, and (mostly) uplifting in the end. Plus, I don't know how he does it, but George Clooney is getting hotter by the MINUTE.

However.

The scared voice inside of me that was saying, "We're fine. We're fine. We're fine," in an increasingly shrill and desperate tone took hold of that movie and ran around me doing a little dance saying, "you are not fine! Even if you think you are, even if you're living in a nice looking apartment in Chicago with two cute kids, your WIFE is just CHEATING on you with a GEORGE CLOONEY LOOK ALIKE who you will never, ever compare to in looks. AND sexually."

The voice also waved a flag. It was neon. And scary.

And maybe that would have been fine. If the birthday party wasn't JUST for a girl I don't really know, but also who happens to be the best friend of a DIFFERENT girl who I was briefly convinced in October of last year luuuuuuuuved Grad School BF.

Who are we kidding - I still think that.

Why? I don't know! Because... she's pretty. And he is too. And because they're the same age. And because she plays soccer, and so does he. And I LIKE soccer, but I haven't played since my fourth year in college which btw was just intramurals, not like legit playing, and now my soccer involvement extends to my formerly muscular but now fat thighs sitting on a couch or bar stool guzzling beer, chomping on wings and shouting obscenities at the television.

Who WOULDN'T love me?!

If, once again, I'm completely honest with you I really don't have any particular reason I think she likes him, and even if she did, I really DO trust Grad School BF as much as I trust any man who isn't my dad. More so, actually. WAY more so.

But when am I honest? Rational? NEVER.

So back to the story, we were headed to this party, me on the verge (and sometime falling off) of tears from this very moving movie, and also, from the internal battle that was burning up between my angelic demons and my demonic demons that were freaking out about something I kind of pushed Grad School BF into saying. And we get to the party, and this chick is there, and she's all "hiiii BF" and ignoring me and because he's nice (or because he was sick of me kind of crying on the metro ride over from the movie theatre) he did not have interest in talking to me either so I was left drinking a beer with some guy I barely know while most of the party went to the dance floor.

Including BF, and this girl.

After a few beers and a few more than that minutes of faking cheeriness, I was over this party. I wanted to go home, I wanted to go to bed, and I REALLY wanted to cry. So I went to the dance floor to find BF and I saw him.

Dancing with that girl.

Last time to be honest - when I angrily texted him four minutes later, I implied that he was grinding up against her, when really, it was more the kind of harmless (ish) dancing that you do at a wedding before taking advantage of the open bar. You know. A foot apart, hands waving awkwardly, smiling and singing. But if I'm ALSO honest, I don't care. I certainly didn't then, and I don't really now - he knew I didn't trust her, he knew how I felt, and you don't go dancing with people who your girlfriend thinks likes you.

I think I got that out correctly.

Grad School BF, apparently, disagrees, and so there he was. I was kind of in shock - my entire body got very, very cold, I spun on my heel and in a haze gathered my coat, texted Becca, and told the guy I had been talking to that he could tell BF I had left (I also texted him, in my defense). I walked out of the bar, said goodbye to the birthday girl, and burst into tears a block away. REAL tears. The kind that I don't really cry, because it makes you feel like you've lost control and if there's anything I really hate, it's losing control.

At this point BF texted and asked what had happened.

Then I sent the abovementioned "grinding" text and he texted back saying do not get on the metro, I will be right there (because he knew I wouldn't have cab fare, because I never carry cash) and so I looked at the clock - 5 minutes until a train came. I had to give him that much anyway, so I might as well.

He showed up in 4 mins, 30 secs.

We got on the metro, me hysterically whuffing into his coat, him the very image of shock and confusion, as we went the one stop to our house. We went upstairs in silence (well, sniffles from me) and then we sat down on the couch.

And had it out.

At first it was just me, shouting at him, but as the accusations grew his face got stonier and stonier until he started shouting back. How could he DO this to me, it was so EMBARRASSING, but WHAT was so embarrassing, he hadn't DONE anything, HOW COULD HE SAY THAT? HE WAS ALL UP ON THAT GIRL! what the FUCK AM I TALKING ABOUT, he wasn't even TOUCHING her.

After a while.

I got upset in earnest, and made really terrible metaphors like, "I've gone all in here and you're not even playing" while he was like "I love you, why don't you trust in that" and we were both talking AT each other, not TO each other.

And then.

We started listening to each other, which was a lot harder because it made me give up my righteous indignation, and he had to listen to some ugly truths about how, after 18 months as besties, 9 months of dating and 6 months of living together, I still was super insecure. About how his talking to his ex is fine, and also, I don't want to be the type of girlfriend who has to approve things, but it makes me uncomfortable. About how dancing with girls I'm positive like him, regardless of how crazy I'm being, is NOT ok, and yet I STILL don't want to be the type of girlfriend who has to approve things.

Sigh.

At this point is was like, 4am, and we decided to call a truce. For a day we made an effort at being overly nice to each other, and then on Sunday we revisited with cooler heads. At this point he was like, look, I don't see a problem dancing with chicks because I love YOU and nothing would ever EVER happen, and by the way, you are just CRAZILY emotional, and not internally, externally, so all your feelings are right out there, exhibited, so the reason you think you love me more is because you're OUT there with it, and yes, I am more reserved, but also you are way LESS reserved than most people.

At this point I said weepily, "but you're not in lo-huh-huh-hove with meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee."

And while this is not the point of this particular post (do all my posts have a point? Do ANY?), let me take this small sidenote to say: make sure you define your terms. When you're in academia, (or at least when I was), all your professors are like "define your terms! Define your terms!" as though that is the only thing that matters (while I liked to think things like argument and persuasion counted for something). But those professors were onto something. Don't use (or freak out over) terms like "in love" if the meaning hasn't been clearly defined. Apparently, Grad School BF thinks that "in love" is the moment when you realize you want to get married.

I, um, do not.

And while again, that's not the point, it's funny how something so dumb could have erupted into something so VERY large. Just think if I had only paid a little more attention in my core classes almost 10 (ugh) years ago, maybe I wouldn't have had to hastily beat a bar because I was about to get all sorts of messy. And maybe I would have! Though it would probably have started over something else equally distressing. Don't get me wrong - we're fine.

For real this time.

But that weekend was rough. And the week after it wasn't so hot, especially as I worried about what we were going to do being snowed in together and only together for 3 days (haha. Three. Ha). But a year ago, my life wasn't SUPER duper awesome, but it was my own. My ups were my ups, and my downs were... drownable in a big glass of wine. Now, it's SUPER DUPER AWESOME... when it's not heart-wrenchingly tragic. Life is complicated. Love is even more so. Put them together, and love ain't just not easy - it's pretty fucking hard.

People Who Rock. People Who Suck. Vday Version

Well, not entirely. But there's certainly luuuuurve interspersed throughout!

People Who Rock:

1. My friend Diane for the video below (below);
2. My boyfriend because I like him, he's still speaking to me after 7 days of being pretty much constantly together, and also, he's my valentine. Aw. Vom. Don't worry - Sunday's post will NOT be lovey dovey. In fact, it will be the opposite;
3. DC for getting their shit together just in time for the weekend;
4. All my friends who took pity on me after the Dupont snowball fight after I got socked in the boob and made me feel as though I was not the biggest baby in the world;
5. Jennifer Aniston, who looked awesome on her 41st birthday;
6. Talia for not judging me when I had an epic fail and remembered her birthday 2 weeks late; and
7. ALL the recent birthdays - Michael, Anna, my dad, Talia and crapload of cousins - who are getting affected by my snowbrain.

People Who Suck:

1. The asshole who blocked my Zipcar return on Sunday and then was a complete jerk about it. Hey dude, we were all having a rough car day. Next time, be nice - I see you were karma's bitch again yesterday and I'm not gonna lie, I smiled;
2. Sasha Cohen - hey lady. Heard of sour grapes? Don't hate on the skaters that beat you on the road to Vancouver;
3. The douche who hit me in the boob with an iceball. That's not fun, that's assholery;
4. Anyone who breaks up with their SO this week so as to save the money on the Vday gift;
5. John Mayer and his "fucking David Duke cock". I don't want to hear your apology;
6. Lori Gottlieb. Don't settle. Find your someone, and enjoy getting there; and
7. Jezebel for the Taylor Swift snafu, then mocking "overused" romcom cliches. Don't get me wrong - I agree that Maid of Honor, Monster in Law, Did You Hear About the Morgans, and New in Town blew. But Definitely Maybe, the Proposal, Meet the Parents, and How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days are really fantastic movies. Really REALLY fantastic. Jez, what the hell has gotten into you this week? Tone down the anger - it's Vday!

Happy Vday weekend friends. I'll be here tomorrow and Sunday, but not Monday. Remember - this weekend is to be with someone you love! Your Boy, or Girl, or sister or dad or bestie or penpal or roommate or whatever. Enjoy it. Or at least enjoy the video!

Snowbrain.

So.

From this past fall and January, I have accumulated a shit ton of posts that I want to write. Most of them probably won't survive scrutiny, because I am never as hilarious as I first think I am, but I'm sure that one or two would be good enough for a post.

Except I can't write at all.

I can't do much of ANYTHING at all. We're coming on our third snow day from life, and 6th snow day in actuality, and my brain has got kaput. I mean seriously - I have some major schoolwork to do, and some minor housecleaning, and even fun things like picking out pictures to order for the walls of my apartment.

I can't do NOTHIN'.

It's kind of embarrassing. All I do is sit on my couch watching SVU, West Wing, or How I Met Your Mother, then I go bake something. Then I go watch my DVR while it's baking. Then I eat whatever I baked. Then I watch TV to let the food settle.

Then I nap.

Yesterday I decided I could do things a little differently, so I surfed the internet. There I went on a massive facebook stalking that led me to find out that most of the people I hung out with in 6th grade are married.

To each other.

See now, this would be where I make a snarky remark about the joys of settling down with the first boy who touched your boobies and moving in next to your Ma and Pa and having little guidette children. But that sounded offensive, and not funny, and I've got NOTHING BETTER.

Sigh.

Anyway, how are you all coping with the snow? New York, New York - watching out! It's coming, coming.

Two post day! Post two - I heart Taytay

So.

I've talked before about my love for Taylor Swift. Apparently not in the detail I thought (btw, if anyone knows which post I'm talking about, or having created in head but never pubbed, by all means you win!) but that's besides the point. I heart her, she is awesome, and I'm not afraid to say it.

Also.

I've talked about my love for the blog Jezebel. A LOT. So much that I didn't even need to look for a post in which I do so, and so much so that I need not link because you can see all of the ones that I've tagged with Jezelove.

However.

Today my great loves were in direct opposition, for Dodai of Jezebel was hating on Taylor Swift (the product, not the person, it should be said). She quoted Riese from Autostraddle as saying, "Taylor Swift is a Feminist's Nightmare" and honestly?

I took great offense!

Now. I thought about writing Dodai an email, but honestly, who the fuck am I and why should she read my email, or even worse, read it then mock it in an entirely new post? Neither seemed an appetizing option, so instead, I'm bitching here to you guys.

Lucky!

Aside from the fact that I really REALLY hate it when city kids snidely look down on those from the suburbs, or even more generally, those who had edgey teenagerdoms condescend to those who did not, I totally understand that Dodai doesn't love Taylor's music because it doesn't "speak" to her story. I get it! Sometime last March or April I asked Leah why the hell I liked Taylor so much and she said something along the lines of, she makes you feel like you're 15 but without actually having to BE 15 so it's all adrenaline and infatuation but no angsty depression.

Leah is wise.

But the point of this story is to say - I didn't really WANT to like Taylor. And it's not even like I really DO feel as though she's telling my story - my boyfriend in high school picked me over a nerdier girl (which was hard, as I was QUITE the nerdette), our parents certainly didn't want to keep us apart until he cheated on me and then my parents wanted me to have nothing to do with him, but more in a "for your own good" way than a "Romeo and Juliet" way. And I slept with him, but when we broke up, I knew I had a lot more to offer post-breakup than poor Abigail in "Fifteen".

But all of that is irrelevant.

Taylor Swift, from a feminist point of view, is a rockstar. When she was 8, she won a national poetry contest. At 10, she wrote a 350-page novel. Shortly thereafter, she started performing at karaoke venues all over, singing the songs she wrote HERSELF. After she got rejected by every label in Nashville at the age of 12, she took her ass back to Pennsylvania and made them eat their rejection.

Over and over and over.

Much like the Dixie Chicks, another of my pseudo country faves who sing a LOT, as Dodai so dismissively says, "about BOYS" (and sure, lots of other crap, and in other ways. Taking the Long Way had very little about boys at all. But cmon now? Home? Wide Open Spaces? Fly (ok, other than Goodbye Earl)? BOYS BOYS TORTURED SOULS ANGRY BOYS!). I pretty much at this point want to break into both "Let Er Rip" and "Should've Said No" but I will spare you.

What I really want to say is.

Taylor Swift, far from being a feminist's nightmare, is THIS feminist's teen (or 20-yr-old) girl crush. Girl knew what she wanted, came from nothing to get it, rocked out while doing so. Yay Taylor.

Back tomorrow friends, with some more snow and snark and Taylor love.

Two post day! Post one - Masochism

So.

We have satellite TV where we live (thanks building) and with that comes the sketchiest internet provider, ever. So when our internet dipped out yesterday, they were all, "uh, do you know it's like, snowy?"

Well yes I do.

Anyway, it's back now, and therefore so am I, but I have a post for yesterday AND today so I'm posting now, and then will post again around 8pm. Tuesday will probably be late as well, and as we all know (ok, I know, why would you care?) no post on Wednesday.

Esp if it's like, snowy.

Anyway, speaking of snow, Grad School BF and I masochists. No, look at the calendar, it's not Thursday, so never fear people who know us in real life. But as you will remember, in last December's storm, "Snowpocalypse," we decided to up and move.

To a building with shoddy internet.

I digress. The point is, it snowed a foot and a half of snow; we moved in it. As Snowmaggedon approached, a lot of jokes were cracked about "oh, MA, GSBF, you going to pull another cross-town move?" and "I hear we're getting tons of snow - you guys got the truck reserved?" But it wasn't so funny when in the middle of the day yesterday we were driving back in a Zipcared Toyota Tacoma with a big ass box o' couch.

WHAT THE EFF IS WRONG WITH US?!

Seriously. As we got stuck on I-395 which was a shitshow of non-plowedness, and were trapped behind four power hungry state employees driving plows and salt trucks that were doing NOTHING except MAKING IT MORE DANGEROUS FOR PEOPLE DRIVING, I started wondering - why the hell were we doing this today. Of all days. Why do we make shit much much harder for ourselves than it needs to be? At that point the Tacoma skidded out of control.

I stopped wondering and started cursing.

A few things learned from our idiotic adventure into snowland:

1. Interstates are better plowed than the Beltway.
2. The Beltway is better plowed than DC streets.
3. No one in this city - plowers, drivers, pedestrians - knows how to deal with the snow. Yes I knew this already. Yes I was still surprised at the idiocy of people walking in the middle of Rock Creek Parkway.
4. Ikea is glorious without people. I mean, it's glorious in general, but when there was no one to get between me and the FABULOUS cheap but functional products with fake Swedish names, it was PARTICULARLY amazing.
5. When you're 16 years old, and Mr. H (or Mr. S?) is telling you to take your foot off the pedal and turn into the skid - LISTEN TO THEM!

In any case, we now have an awesome new couch (or at least a pretty, functional one with a cool faux Swedish name), and we got to answer the jokes with a, "Actually, now that you mention it." Also, we've proven ourselves to be super strong, confident, bad-ass moving MACHINES.

Or? Masochists.

SNOWBALL FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT

So.

I don't have a lot to say today because it's 8 in the morning and I'm pretty sure that I'm going to go back to bed, only to wake up in four hours and start drinking.

Hey man - it's a blizzard out there.

I'm actually kind of not joking, the snow has totally addled my brain. I couldn't remember things all yesterday, including people's names like my COUSINS and what that stuff was that was falling from the sky.

No not snow. Freezing rain. Still, you get my point.

Anyway since my brain has decided to shut down, I thought I'd just say a quick hi - HI! - and also inform those of you in the DC metro area that if you're near an underground metro stop, equally snow-addled, and thinking that by 2pm your live-in boyfriend and you probably could use a break from each other, I have two words for you:

Dupont Circle.

Apparently there will be a MASSIVE snowball fight at the Circle then, details here. Yours truly will be there. But you may not want me on your team because I just spelled "truly" tHruly four times in a row. And did it again when trying to make my point.

Sigh.

In any case, enjoy the snow or the weekend or the thruly. Be back tomorrow, with my brain, j'espere.

People Who Rock. People Who Suck. Snowmaggedon version.

People Who Rock:

1. Capital Weather Gang at the Washington Post. They are funny. They also are serious. Also, they predict snow - amazing!;
2. My apartment complex for having a bar right across the street that was open during Snowpocalypse I and hopefully will be again;
3. Safeway for having everything I needed. TP. Eggs. Booze;
4. The little girl standing in front of me on line at Safeway who kept us entertained by her song and dance routine;
5. The guy at Safeway, when I muttered "could have freaking done this at 7am" that said to me, "no way can't buy booze then. I know - I tried." Thanks for the smile.
6. Blackberry for creating Word Mole (or putting it on their phones) which kept me distracted for most of the 58 minutes I was online, and also, btw bitches, I totally increased my high score by more than 1000 pts; and
7. DC for having a plow out before the snow started.

People Who Suck:

1. Weather.com for not making it ABUNDANTLY CLEAR to me that Grad School BF and I needed to check if we had run out of toilet paper before last night;
2. GSBF and I for using too much toilet paper. It's not green, and it's not snowsmart;
3. Safeway for not opening up all the damn aisles, and having three of the four self-service computers shut down;
4. The little girl standing in front of me on line at Safeway whose dance and song routine got old at the 21st minute, and then went on for another 25 minutes or so;
5. The guy at Safeway talking about hot dogs for 30 minutes. THEY ARE JUST HOT DOGS YOU CAN SURVIVE WITHOUT THEM FOR 2 DAYS;
6. DC residents for freaking out and clogging up my freaking Safeway when ALL I NEEDED WAS TOILET PAPER. Also, beer. And of course champagne; and
7. DC for only having one plow in my near vicinity for my entire morning of shopping, freaking out, walking around in the freshly started snow and judging my fellow citizens. Only one? Really? It's SNOWPOCALYPSE II!!

Um, that's all for now. Enjoy your weekend! Esp if you're in DC.

Snow. M. G.

I have a confession

So.

I was going to write about what I WILL write about tomorrow, but for a few reasons (I feel like I'm a little weddinged out, and probably you are too, those of you who are still reading. Also: my living room has been taken over by the obsessed) I'm writing about this instead. My dark, dirty secret.

I hate "Lost."

I hate it. I hate that my siblings love it so much that it's all they talk about when we get together, while they COULD be talking about things far more interesting, like catching me up on their lives, or just talking about me!

SRSLY!

I hate that today every single one of my friends' stupid google chat statuses (stati?) were about a TV show. Don't get me wrong, I get it - on Harry Potter Day I was a wreck too. But I don't really like Lost, so people should just respect that and keep me out of it.

Srsly.

And I really - REALLY - hate that Grad School BF and his buds are watching Lost in my living room right now. Hello?! It is LOUD. And bee tee dubs, I DVRed GILMORE GIRLS and SVU!!

srsly. sigh.

I don't know why, quite frankly, I hate this show so much. I probably could have liked it, if it didn't start with a very scary plane crash that is currently giving me heart palpitations (thank you recap episode going down in my living room), and if everyone wasn't just SO enTHRALLed with a show that when I've watched it, seems pretty transparent and not all that awesome.

Also, if everyone didn't feel the need to tell me it's MY problem.

I know that this puts me in the minority. But I'm sick of hiding out. I hate Lost friends. If you're not reading this post right now because you're watching Jack watch Kate watch Sawyer or some other preggers chick give not birth and die despite Ben's pleas for it to just HAPPEN already so he can steal another baby, or some 1980s-esq special effect that is a big fucking scary cloud (ooooogly boooogly), or Jin is evil no Jin is good and oh wait, who's really dead? NO ONE, then - I'm sorry. Je ne suis d'accord avec tois.

If you're not - hey guys! What's up? Anyone catch the... um... game?

This is amazing

And no, this is not my post for today. But go read this while you wait for me to get home to a place I can post more than 30 words.

New York Times Weddings & Competitions

So.

It's a Monday. I don't really have a real job anymore (my current job lets me sit in my pajamas, watch Gilmore Girls reruns I've DVRed from the Soap network, and eat leftover banana bread), but when I DID have a legitimate office job, in fact every TIME I've had one, Monday meant one thing.

New York Times Modern Love.

Back in the way day of my last job in the city, I was so bored that I started this blog but ALSO had a section for every day of the week. Monday = Modern Love, Tuesday = Metro Diary, Wednesday = Joe Sharkey's travel column, Thursday = Food & Wine and Friday = Thursday Styles. If you know anything about the NYT (or you know, the fact that Thursday is the day before Friday), you'll notice that every single one of these was a day later than it was published. I delayed gratification (not something I'm usually good at doing) for one reason - I needed something to DO. But there was one section I could never put off for 24 hours.

That would be the Weddings & Celebrations section.

I think I've talked about my love for NYT's W&C before, and I know that it's a cliche to be "sports pages for women". But really - it's a great section! There's human interest, with its "Vows" column. It's helpful - often there are tips on how to host an outdoor wedding, where to spend your money and also, super fun trends in weddings!

But also.

It's a competition. One way Gawker's Altercations makes it thus is by adding up points for each couple based on their education, professions, and other personal (and obnoxious!) details. However, because it's me, because I'm selfish and self-centered and a bunch of other words that start with "self"...

I make it about me.

At first it was hard. I'd look for my college, or for the law firm I worked for (both of which make regular appearances). Occasionally my parents' town shows up, and one time I got really lucky where one of the teachers of 6th grade social studies at my middle school's son was there.

Yes. I grasp at straws. So what?!

Anyway, recently I have not needed to resort to proxies. Two times - TWO - in the past 6 months a wedding I have attended has made its way into the W&C pages. You'd think this would excite me, and you'd be right. I posted the link on facebook, I called my parents to tell them to save the hard copy version, I'd mention it to everyone I know.

But also.

I'd freak out. The first one was ok - I like that couple, they deserved it, etc etc. And actually, that's true for the other one. But honestly? What does this mean? If my friends are going to start getting their weddings announced in the NYT, then that means I have to get MY nonexistent wedding announced in the NYT! In fact, I have to not only get it announced, I have to be the COLUMN.

Sigh.

Either Chelsea, Leah or Ramona pointed out to me that currently my friends are making it on off the merits of their grandparents (I don't mean to be bitchy, but it's true!) so I can still win by making it in off of my merits. But I don't HAVE any merits! And I also don't have any relatives who came in on the Mayflower, founded Goldman Sachs or discovered, I don't know, electricity.

That would be cool though.

Point is - this is a sick way to look at my friends' weddings (all of which I enjoyed IMMENSELY). But it is the way I think about it. So friends. What should I get working on to make sure I win?? What merits can I achieve in the next 5-15 years??