Saturday, February 28, 2009
Blogging While Drunk (BWI)
... and generally drunk. I blame the malbec. i have two, count them two, school girl crushes. You guys are awesome. In the words of the lesbian from my highschool who commented on my .facebook page... you RAWK. Smoochie booches. This is my first. ever. drunk.blog. It rocks. Or Rawks, as that is apparently how the kids are spelling it these days. And to all of my two (2) readers, heart you. Passing out now. Smoochie booches.
Sunday, February 08, 2009
What Ifs
I'm a hypocrite. Whenever someone starts "what if"-ing I usually remind them that running what ifs through your mind is an exercise in futility and it really is. My favorite thing to say to someone who what ifs is:
"We could what if all day. What if the Queen had balls? Would she be the King or would she be the Queen with balls?"
Unfortunately, this is where me being a hypocrite comes into play. Hi, my name is Lu and I'm a what if-er. This will become chapter 87 in my yet unpublished self-help book "Do As I Say, Not As I Do: I Learn Lessons the Hard Way So You Don't Have To."
Here's the thing, my what if-ing has gotten so out of control that I have recently started what if-ing about what if-ing. The latest: What if I spend so much time what if-ing, that life is just passing me by? And, this particular what if is somewhat paralyzing.
So the lesson here, we could what if all day. What if the Queen had balls? Would she be the King or would she be the Queen with balls.
"We could what if all day. What if the Queen had balls? Would she be the King or would she be the Queen with balls?"
Unfortunately, this is where me being a hypocrite comes into play. Hi, my name is Lu and I'm a what if-er. This will become chapter 87 in my yet unpublished self-help book "Do As I Say, Not As I Do: I Learn Lessons the Hard Way So You Don't Have To."
Here's the thing, my what if-ing has gotten so out of control that I have recently started what if-ing about what if-ing. The latest: What if I spend so much time what if-ing, that life is just passing me by? And, this particular what if is somewhat paralyzing.
So the lesson here, we could what if all day. What if the Queen had balls? Would she be the King or would she be the Queen with balls.
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
If a tree falls in the woods and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound?
Can you hear the crickets chirping around here? I certainly can. Talk about a serious blogging haitus, right? I wish I could offer up a good reason as to why I quit, and I have a couple of reasons. I just don't know how legit they really are::
1. I got tired of feeling like my blog posts had to be funny, witty, charming, and/or entertaining to a variety of people. I had to really think about what I wanted to say and that was damn exhausting!
2. I switched jobs.
3. I got a DVR. No really, this had a real impact. For example, right now I'm watching TV on the trusty old DVR and I keep turning away from my laptop to watch my old faithful friend "Zenith."
4. I got addicted to facebook... which is slowly but surely appearing as though my dead boyfriend box barfed all over it.
5. I turned 30 (gasp!) and had a little bit of a crisis about it. But I'm all good now. Seriously.
6. This was supposed to be a dating blog. And well, it's been as dry as the arid desert over here. I mean, I've gone one some dates but they have all had an element of the disastrous in them. So I could have told those stories, but they still would have been few and far between. Turns I out I might have been a little distracted by re-date (known previously on this blog as VA Guy).
Anyhow, I'm now thinking I might make some sort of a blogging comeback. Maybe. It's a thought. But this time I'm doing it for me. Don't get me wrong, once or twice I've looked back at old posts and laughed my ass off because I was soooo wittyandcharmingandfunnyandhahahaha, but enough about me. This time around, I don't want to feel like every time I go onto this to vent, revel in my excitement, or be all melodramatic that it's for entertainment value for others. This time, it's for me.
So hopefully I'll be posting with my regular frequency from way, way before (i.e., 3 times a month) - when I'm inspired and when I need to get something down on "paper." Until then...
Friday, May 30, 2008
The Dot Leader
I hate the dot leader. I decided while reading a blog today... that was filled......... with....... dot lead......ers that I would rather go through Chinese water torture than continue reading. The author lost me with the incorrect grammatical use of punctuation and formatting.
Sure, the dot leader has it's place. For example:
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Topic 1 .......................................... p.1
I'm not saying that the dot leader (or the overuse of ellipsis tending to then resemble a dot leader) is bad, per se.
Here's the thing - would you over use the dot leader (or an ellipsis) in an e-mail at work? Not if you valued your job. Would you use it in e-mails to your friends? Not if you didn't want them to poke their eyes out with a sharp pencil by the end of your missive and thereby give you some craptastic nick name (like "The Dot Leader") that no one really understands but people know is in some way a slight.
So how about this - we all band together and stop........................ the... overuse................. of the dot leader. Thanks.
Sure, the dot leader has it's place. For example:
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Topic 1 .......................................... p.1
I'm not saying that the dot leader (or the overuse of ellipsis tending to then resemble a dot leader) is bad, per se.
Here's the thing - would you over use the dot leader (or an ellipsis) in an e-mail at work? Not if you valued your job. Would you use it in e-mails to your friends? Not if you didn't want them to poke their eyes out with a sharp pencil by the end of your missive and thereby give you some craptastic nick name (like "The Dot Leader") that no one really understands but people know is in some way a slight.
So how about this - we all band together and stop........................ the... overuse................. of the dot leader. Thanks.
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Today, My Heart Belongs in Minnesota
While out with friends last night, I was oblivious to anything going on in the world, the nation, locally. I checked my cell phone to check the time and realized that I had missed calls, texts, etc. Immediately, I knew something, somewhere was wrong.
Hearing that the I-35W bridge that connects downtown Minneapolis to another part of Minneapolis, which is used by many to travel into St. Paul, made my heart sink. I felt so much sadness; for the families of the people who died, those who were injured and those who continue to be missing. The fact is, this sort of thing doesn't happen very often anywhere, and tragedies like this hit close to home for everyone, partially due to their complete and utter randomness.
When I called my mom and she relayed the news, she was calling not so much to let me know the bridge had collapsed and that there would be a lot of news of tragedy for the days to come since she knew I would find all of this out on my own, but to let me know that my family (many of whom commute between various parts of the city and may likely use that particular bridge) was okay, I felt an instant sense of relief, followed by a sense of sorrow.
I was raised in St. Paul. My mom spent all of her childhood years and a portion of her adult years living across the river in Minneapolis. So growing up, I definitely considered the "Twin Cities" home, not so much just St. Paul. Because my mom had such strong roots in Minneapolis, we traveled across the various bridges for everything: shopping, hair cuts, seeing friends and family, sporting events. Hell, even the gym we belonged to was in downtown Minneapolis. I have rode and driven across that bridge countless numbers of time. And once the bridge has been rebuilt, I will likely continue to do so. The bridges that cross the Mississippi and join two very different cities, making them almost one, represent the ties that I feel to Minneapolis, as a girl who grew up in St. Paul. Because Minneapolis was so ingrained in me for many things in life, these bridges were necessary for me and my family and the places we went and things we did.
There are some tough days and very difficult questions ahead. I have no doubt that the cities of Minneapolis and St. Paul will emerge from this tragedy and band together. My thoughts and prayers go out to everyone who was on that bridge, or who had friends or family on the bridge.
Hearing that the I-35W bridge that connects downtown Minneapolis to another part of Minneapolis, which is used by many to travel into St. Paul, made my heart sink. I felt so much sadness; for the families of the people who died, those who were injured and those who continue to be missing. The fact is, this sort of thing doesn't happen very often anywhere, and tragedies like this hit close to home for everyone, partially due to their complete and utter randomness.
When I called my mom and she relayed the news, she was calling not so much to let me know the bridge had collapsed and that there would be a lot of news of tragedy for the days to come since she knew I would find all of this out on my own, but to let me know that my family (many of whom commute between various parts of the city and may likely use that particular bridge) was okay, I felt an instant sense of relief, followed by a sense of sorrow.
I was raised in St. Paul. My mom spent all of her childhood years and a portion of her adult years living across the river in Minneapolis. So growing up, I definitely considered the "Twin Cities" home, not so much just St. Paul. Because my mom had such strong roots in Minneapolis, we traveled across the various bridges for everything: shopping, hair cuts, seeing friends and family, sporting events. Hell, even the gym we belonged to was in downtown Minneapolis. I have rode and driven across that bridge countless numbers of time. And once the bridge has been rebuilt, I will likely continue to do so. The bridges that cross the Mississippi and join two very different cities, making them almost one, represent the ties that I feel to Minneapolis, as a girl who grew up in St. Paul. Because Minneapolis was so ingrained in me for many things in life, these bridges were necessary for me and my family and the places we went and things we did.
There are some tough days and very difficult questions ahead. I have no doubt that the cities of Minneapolis and St. Paul will emerge from this tragedy and band together. My thoughts and prayers go out to everyone who was on that bridge, or who had friends or family on the bridge.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Orange Pants
I like the color orange. It's generally a happy color and reminds me of food. That said, shockingly bright prison-jumpsuit-orange track pants out in public I find frightening.
I was on the metro yesterday and had my head down as I was reading my book. I half-way look up when we pulled into a station to confirm that I hadn't missed my stop. All I see in front of me are baggy, bright, prison-jumpsuit-orange pants. I'm generally pretty rooted in reality. Apparently not yesterday. My heart jumped into my throat and I thought WTF is that man doing in his prison jumpsuit on the metro. I mean ohmigodyoujustranawayfromprisonandnowyou'reonthemetorandwe'reallindanger. (Clearly, I fell off the edge of the reality cliff for a moment there.) I forced myself to breath and look up, where I saw a perfectly normal dude in a white t-shirt and prison-jumpsuit-orange track pants who looked like he had just left the gym. And then I felt bad for thinking the worst about somebody based upon the color of their pants. But they were really prison-jumpsuit-orange. I was engrossed in my book. I did quickly realize my mistake and felt bad about it. But was also left feeling like one should not wear prison-jumpsuit-orange pants in a place where many people's eyes never leave knee level.
Moving on... my phone rings yesterday. It's Hurricane AV Guy. I greet him with my standard greeting when he calls "Ohmigod, he lives." He asks where I am. Strange question because it is 2:00 on a weekday. Really where do you think I am? So I explain in children's terms that I am at work and ask where he is because this is obviously what he wants me to ask. His response "the Convention Center." So, you're telling me you're in town. And you couldn't tell me this 3-4 weeks ago when I left you a voice mail asking you if you were coming to town this weekend? So... you're telling me this just in case I run into you so your ass is covered. Nice.
I was on the metro yesterday and had my head down as I was reading my book. I half-way look up when we pulled into a station to confirm that I hadn't missed my stop. All I see in front of me are baggy, bright, prison-jumpsuit-orange pants. I'm generally pretty rooted in reality. Apparently not yesterday. My heart jumped into my throat and I thought WTF is that man doing in his prison jumpsuit on the metro. I mean ohmigodyoujustranawayfromprisonandnowyou'reonthemetorandwe'reallindanger. (Clearly, I fell off the edge of the reality cliff for a moment there.) I forced myself to breath and look up, where I saw a perfectly normal dude in a white t-shirt and prison-jumpsuit-orange track pants who looked like he had just left the gym. And then I felt bad for thinking the worst about somebody based upon the color of their pants. But they were really prison-jumpsuit-orange. I was engrossed in my book. I did quickly realize my mistake and felt bad about it. But was also left feeling like one should not wear prison-jumpsuit-orange pants in a place where many people's eyes never leave knee level.
Moving on... my phone rings yesterday. It's Hurricane AV Guy. I greet him with my standard greeting when he calls "Ohmigod, he lives." He asks where I am. Strange question because it is 2:00 on a weekday. Really where do you think I am? So I explain in children's terms that I am at work and ask where he is because this is obviously what he wants me to ask. His response "the Convention Center." So, you're telling me you're in town. And you couldn't tell me this 3-4 weeks ago when I left you a voice mail asking you if you were coming to town this weekend? So... you're telling me this just in case I run into you so your ass is covered. Nice.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
And So Passes Another Cop Week
Mother’s day came and went and with it, so did Police Week 2007. You may recall how much I adore cop week. It’s one of my favorite DC weeks of the year. And this year was no exception. In fact, I dare say it was a bit crazier than last year.
I did cop week like it was going to be the last one ever. I got tattooed. I collected patches and pins, and even a plastic junior police badge. I saw people making complete spectacles of themselves (oh wait, I may have been one of those people as well). I experienced the bag pipes playing Amazing Grace no less than 3 times this weekend. I got hit on and flirted like whoa. I slept a combined total of 13 hours between Friday night and Monday morning. It was an eventful weekend, to say the least.
I go into cop week with the mentality that I’m going to have fun and meet people who I would never normally meet considering none of them live here while getting a sometimes needed self esteem boost and partying like the rock star I truely am. And this year, I definitely did that. I met DK* from Ft. Lauderdale who (apparently) looks like some guy from World Series of Poker, kept calling me “sweetie” and checked in with me several times through the weekend to try and meet up again for a drink. I met a cop from Connecticut who made me swoon by telling me I was the “funny one” in the group. I met Joe from Jersey who cheered me up when I hit the end of the weekend and the point of sheer exhaustion.
And now it’s over. My body is recovering. My mind is over-whelmed. My heart is a little sad. So here’s to Police Week 2007. I look forward to Police Week 2008!
*Despite efforts on both of our parts to meet up for a drink later in the weekend, it didn’t happen. He asked if I would keep in touch. I think I will. Who knows, maybe our paths will cross again next May…
I did cop week like it was going to be the last one ever. I got tattooed. I collected patches and pins, and even a plastic junior police badge. I saw people making complete spectacles of themselves (oh wait, I may have been one of those people as well). I experienced the bag pipes playing Amazing Grace no less than 3 times this weekend. I got hit on and flirted like whoa. I slept a combined total of 13 hours between Friday night and Monday morning. It was an eventful weekend, to say the least.
I go into cop week with the mentality that I’m going to have fun and meet people who I would never normally meet considering none of them live here while getting a sometimes needed self esteem boost and partying like the rock star I truely am. And this year, I definitely did that. I met DK* from Ft. Lauderdale who (apparently) looks like some guy from World Series of Poker, kept calling me “sweetie” and checked in with me several times through the weekend to try and meet up again for a drink. I met a cop from Connecticut who made me swoon by telling me I was the “funny one” in the group. I met Joe from Jersey who cheered me up when I hit the end of the weekend and the point of sheer exhaustion.
And now it’s over. My body is recovering. My mind is over-whelmed. My heart is a little sad. So here’s to Police Week 2007. I look forward to Police Week 2008!
*Despite efforts on both of our parts to meet up for a drink later in the weekend, it didn’t happen. He asked if I would keep in touch. I think I will. Who knows, maybe our paths will cross again next May…
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Smiling at Strangers
I like to believe that I am generally an outgoing person and I think my friends would describe me as pretty outgoing. But after giving it some thought, I don't know if that's really true. Does being outgoing have to equate with being comfortable with strangers? Because there are certain situations where I just can’t muster it up to smile at, talk to or become friends with complete strangers. And I think this is hindering my dating life.
1) House Parties: I am not a big fan of house parties. Especially if I don’t know a large number of people at them. I will find a corner and hide there and not talk to anyone. If I know the host and a handful of guests, I’m fine. But if I’m tagging along and only know one or two people, it’s a guarantee that I will peace out of that party within about an hour. I think it dates back to freshman year in college when you would go to house parties and you would be welcomed because hey, you’re paying your $4 for your cup. However, it’s clear you don’t really belong because you don’t have a) a pitcher; b) a house cup; or c) an invitation to join the seniors in their game of quarters.
2) Grocery Store: I know plenty of people who have scored a date from a trip to the grocery store. I have horrible eating habits. I buy many things that are frozen, or in a box, or in some sort of freezer safe packaging. If the guy with the organic apples smiles at me, I feel immediately guilty about my unhealthy items and think he’s going to think I’m a total junk food addict. I bow my head, and I cut down the nearest aisle to avoid any and all future eye contact.
3) Metro: You’re a guy and you’re sitting across from me on the metro. I look up from my paper and look around the train. Your eyes connect with mine. I look down. Rinse and repeat. Several times. Later, I look up again. You look up. You smile at me. I quickly look back at my paper and make myself very engrossed in the news of the day. Why? Who knows? I’m trying to transition myself to work mode or to come down from work mode while on the train. I haven’t had my first cup of coffee. I’m disturbed from the news of the day.
4) On the Street Corner: So we're standing at the same stoplight. You turn to me and smile and start to ask a question. I point to my iPod earbuds and shake my head. I then turn away. I'm an a$$hole*.
These are just 4 basic examples that come to my mind about how I find myself more often not willing to smile at and/or talk to strangers. I think as I’m getting older, I’m getting shyer. Or maybe I just fear rejection. Either way, as I write this, I realize that I can no longer complain about not dating since I clearly don’t put myself out there in any sort of positive way.
Starting today, that changes. I will smile at people who smile at me. I will hold my head high and say hello to fellow shoppers as I’m perusing the macaroni and cheese and frozen pizza aisles. I will try not to look so engrossed and preoccupied on the metro while jamming out to my iPod so no one can ask me questions. OK. That last one is me getting carried away. A girl has to have her limits and altering my commuting MO is definitely my limit.
*Really, I am. I grew up in Minnesota. It's not called "Minnesota nice" for nothing. My mom is ashamed. I don't behave this way when in MN, for I would be shunned, publicly ridiculed, flogged and finally tarred and feathered.
1) House Parties: I am not a big fan of house parties. Especially if I don’t know a large number of people at them. I will find a corner and hide there and not talk to anyone. If I know the host and a handful of guests, I’m fine. But if I’m tagging along and only know one or two people, it’s a guarantee that I will peace out of that party within about an hour. I think it dates back to freshman year in college when you would go to house parties and you would be welcomed because hey, you’re paying your $4 for your cup. However, it’s clear you don’t really belong because you don’t have a) a pitcher; b) a house cup; or c) an invitation to join the seniors in their game of quarters.
2) Grocery Store: I know plenty of people who have scored a date from a trip to the grocery store. I have horrible eating habits. I buy many things that are frozen, or in a box, or in some sort of freezer safe packaging. If the guy with the organic apples smiles at me, I feel immediately guilty about my unhealthy items and think he’s going to think I’m a total junk food addict. I bow my head, and I cut down the nearest aisle to avoid any and all future eye contact.
3) Metro: You’re a guy and you’re sitting across from me on the metro. I look up from my paper and look around the train. Your eyes connect with mine. I look down. Rinse and repeat. Several times. Later, I look up again. You look up. You smile at me. I quickly look back at my paper and make myself very engrossed in the news of the day. Why? Who knows? I’m trying to transition myself to work mode or to come down from work mode while on the train. I haven’t had my first cup of coffee. I’m disturbed from the news of the day.
4) On the Street Corner: So we're standing at the same stoplight. You turn to me and smile and start to ask a question. I point to my iPod earbuds and shake my head. I then turn away. I'm an a$$hole*.
These are just 4 basic examples that come to my mind about how I find myself more often not willing to smile at and/or talk to strangers. I think as I’m getting older, I’m getting shyer. Or maybe I just fear rejection. Either way, as I write this, I realize that I can no longer complain about not dating since I clearly don’t put myself out there in any sort of positive way.
Starting today, that changes. I will smile at people who smile at me. I will hold my head high and say hello to fellow shoppers as I’m perusing the macaroni and cheese and frozen pizza aisles. I will try not to look so engrossed and preoccupied on the metro while jamming out to my iPod so no one can ask me questions. OK. That last one is me getting carried away. A girl has to have her limits and altering my commuting MO is definitely my limit.
*Really, I am. I grew up in Minnesota. It's not called "Minnesota nice" for nothing. My mom is ashamed. I don't behave this way when in MN, for I would be shunned, publicly ridiculed, flogged and finally tarred and feathered.
Friday, April 13, 2007
Late
In the words of Jessie Spano from Saved By The Bell (otherwise known as Elizabeth Berekely of Showgirls fame), "No time. No time. There's never enough time. I'm so excited, I'm so excited, I'm so... scared." And then she collapses. This all as she's coming down from her week long addiction to No-Doz. Greatest episode of Saved by the Bell EVER. Anyway, where is this all going?
I am Jessie Spano (without the bad singing of the Pointer Sisters and the addiction to No-Doz). No Time, no time, there's never enough time. The result of this is that I've gone from being a chronically (and neurotically) early person, to a chronically late person. I'm late for work. I'm working late. I'm late to see my friends. I'm late going to bed. I'm late for EVERYTHING and it's driving me nutty.
Worst of all, I'm late for my own blogger birthday. Yep, this week was the one year birthday of LuLu Dates. I was going to do this whole year by the numbers post, but no time, no time, there's never enough time. Maybe, if I actually last that long since my posts are getting fewer and farther between (it's that whole time thing again), I'll do it on my two year blog birthday.
In the interim, happy birthday to my blog. Sorry I'm late!
I am Jessie Spano (without the bad singing of the Pointer Sisters and the addiction to No-Doz). No Time, no time, there's never enough time. The result of this is that I've gone from being a chronically (and neurotically) early person, to a chronically late person. I'm late for work. I'm working late. I'm late to see my friends. I'm late going to bed. I'm late for EVERYTHING and it's driving me nutty.
Worst of all, I'm late for my own blogger birthday. Yep, this week was the one year birthday of LuLu Dates. I was going to do this whole year by the numbers post, but no time, no time, there's never enough time. Maybe, if I actually last that long since my posts are getting fewer and farther between (it's that whole time thing again), I'll do it on my two year blog birthday.
In the interim, happy birthday to my blog. Sorry I'm late!
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Things I Need People to Know
Here is a list of random thoughts I had while on the metro this morning for what turned out to be one of my lengthiest commutes EVER:
1) Just because you like to do something does not a genius make. For example, I like to paint happy trees, that doesn't make me Bob Ross. (And I'm not really talking about painting and Bob Ross... this one has a "deeper" meaning.)
2) Metro hours for tourists, particularly tourists with 5 children under the age of 6, 2 of whom are in a double wide stroller, should be limited to 9:30 am to 4:30 pm and 7:00 pm till close. At least at busy transfer stations (i.e., Metro Center, L'Enfant Plaza, etc.).
3) While we're on the subject of metro, turn down your headphones people! If I can hear your music through my own music, it's too loud. Same holds true for conversations. If I can hear you talking (read: using your outside voice) over the sound of the oldest train metro owns and my iPod, you're talking too loudly.
4) When the DC school systems decide to "revamp," I'm hoping they buy some school buses. Those high school kids are way too loud and rowdy on the metro for 7:30 in the morning.
5) The Gallery Place metro station is fundamentally flawed considering what a major transfer point it is. The one working escalator should favor the direction that has the most foot traffic (i.e., the escalator should always work going up since you have 4 trains emptying out downstairs as opposed to the 2 trains emptying out upstairs). Mathematical logic, 4 < 2.
I think that should do it for now. But I'd like to reiterate the most important part of this post (because the rest of it is random ramblings just taking up space). Just because you like to do something does not make you good at it. That is a faulty assumption and does not provide latitude for you to brag about how good you are at it because since you like it so much, naturally you must be good at it. The lesson here is that you can tell the entire world how much you like it, just not how great you are. Because then you're really just setting up expectations that you can't necessarily live up to. And no one wants to do that.
1) Just because you like to do something does not a genius make. For example, I like to paint happy trees, that doesn't make me Bob Ross. (And I'm not really talking about painting and Bob Ross... this one has a "deeper" meaning.)
2) Metro hours for tourists, particularly tourists with 5 children under the age of 6, 2 of whom are in a double wide stroller, should be limited to 9:30 am to 4:30 pm and 7:00 pm till close. At least at busy transfer stations (i.e., Metro Center, L'Enfant Plaza, etc.).
3) While we're on the subject of metro, turn down your headphones people! If I can hear your music through my own music, it's too loud. Same holds true for conversations. If I can hear you talking (read: using your outside voice) over the sound of the oldest train metro owns and my iPod, you're talking too loudly.
4) When the DC school systems decide to "revamp," I'm hoping they buy some school buses. Those high school kids are way too loud and rowdy on the metro for 7:30 in the morning.
5) The Gallery Place metro station is fundamentally flawed considering what a major transfer point it is. The one working escalator should favor the direction that has the most foot traffic (i.e., the escalator should always work going up since you have 4 trains emptying out downstairs as opposed to the 2 trains emptying out upstairs). Mathematical logic, 4 < 2.
I think that should do it for now. But I'd like to reiterate the most important part of this post (because the rest of it is random ramblings just taking up space). Just because you like to do something does not make you good at it. That is a faulty assumption and does not provide latitude for you to brag about how good you are at it because since you like it so much, naturally you must be good at it. The lesson here is that you can tell the entire world how much you like it, just not how great you are. Because then you're really just setting up expectations that you can't necessarily live up to. And no one wants to do that.
Friday, March 09, 2007
Jumping Rope
One of my fondest memories of elementary school was the annual Jump Rope for Heart event that raised money for the American Heart Association. I raised all sorts of money, I jumped like a fool in a dark gym with bad 80's music playing and I went home with some juice, cookies and a rockin' glow in the dark jump rope. I loved it.
Jump Rope for Heart recently caught my eye in the news because a gym teacher played a mix CD during his school's Jump Rope for Heart event that had a song that contained suggestive lyrics (off the top of my head, I don't remember what the song was). I could have cared less about the song or the gym teacher, which was coincidentally what made the event newsworthy. Rather, I was all excited by the fact that Jump Rope for Heart still exists.
I participate in a variety of philanthropic events each year - Race for the Cure, the Colon Cancer Awareness walk (okay, so this will be my first year on that one), and this small 5K to raise money for Bright Beginnings. I enjoy doing these and donating what small amount of my registration fee actually goes to the headlining charities.
That said, I think someone out there should create a Jump Rope for Heart event for us 20-something adults. I mean, a boatload of us already play kickball which is totally a child's sport. I would bet those same people would totally be down for some Jump Rope for Heart. I think all that is missing is beer. have some beer, some rockin music, maybe a disco ball (why? why not.), oh yeah and those glow in the dark jump ropes.
I'm sure there is some liability I'm not thinking of with regard to the involvement of beer, but I can't think of a more fun way to raise money for a cause. Can you?
Jump Rope for Heart recently caught my eye in the news because a gym teacher played a mix CD during his school's Jump Rope for Heart event that had a song that contained suggestive lyrics (off the top of my head, I don't remember what the song was). I could have cared less about the song or the gym teacher, which was coincidentally what made the event newsworthy. Rather, I was all excited by the fact that Jump Rope for Heart still exists.
I participate in a variety of philanthropic events each year - Race for the Cure, the Colon Cancer Awareness walk (okay, so this will be my first year on that one), and this small 5K to raise money for Bright Beginnings. I enjoy doing these and donating what small amount of my registration fee actually goes to the headlining charities.
That said, I think someone out there should create a Jump Rope for Heart event for us 20-something adults. I mean, a boatload of us already play kickball which is totally a child's sport. I would bet those same people would totally be down for some Jump Rope for Heart. I think all that is missing is beer. have some beer, some rockin music, maybe a disco ball (why? why not.), oh yeah and those glow in the dark jump ropes.
I'm sure there is some liability I'm not thinking of with regard to the involvement of beer, but I can't think of a more fun way to raise money for a cause. Can you?
Thursday, March 08, 2007
To Wash or Not To Wash
Apparently, that is the question.
What would you do if you met someone and shortly thereafter found out that he or she doesn’t wash their hands? Do you simply say to them, “I’m gonna need you to wash your hands”? Or, do you send them repeated text messages saying “Don’t forget to wash your hands”? Or do you go for what’s behind door number 3 and stand outside the bathroom door and treat the person like a child and say “I don’t hear any water running”?
I kid you not when I say that I have officially encountered this dilemma. I shut my mouth and I pretended not to notice. Oh, but I noticed. And now I can’t stop thinking and talking about it. It just seems to me that most people are taught from a very young age the importance of hand washing. Washing your hands is like the single most important thing you can do to stave off germy things like colds, the flu, pink-eye, general germ-iness, etc., so why not do it? It’s a simple 30 second procedure one does on their way out of the bathroom. I mean, in most bathrooms, the sink comes between the toilet and the door which means you are passing right by it anyway. Why not stop and wash your hands?
I like washing my hands. I am addicted to the smell of my Dove antibacterial foaming hand soap. I like the feeling of the hot water over my hands. And, there’s something reassuring about knowing that I’m doing my part to not spread germs. But maybe that’s just me.
Now I could go all OCD on this and point out the chain reaction that could occur from said person not washing their hands after using the facilities. But, I’m not going to because I’m sure you can do that all on your own. But now it has me wondering, how many people out there are not washing their hands? Even if you aren’t a big hand washer, wouldn’t you at a minimum do it in the presence of others, lest your dirty (pun intended) little secret get out?
The moral of this story: Wash your hands! It’s a deal breaker. I promise.
What would you do if you met someone and shortly thereafter found out that he or she doesn’t wash their hands? Do you simply say to them, “I’m gonna need you to wash your hands”? Or, do you send them repeated text messages saying “Don’t forget to wash your hands”? Or do you go for what’s behind door number 3 and stand outside the bathroom door and treat the person like a child and say “I don’t hear any water running”?
I kid you not when I say that I have officially encountered this dilemma. I shut my mouth and I pretended not to notice. Oh, but I noticed. And now I can’t stop thinking and talking about it. It just seems to me that most people are taught from a very young age the importance of hand washing. Washing your hands is like the single most important thing you can do to stave off germy things like colds, the flu, pink-eye, general germ-iness, etc., so why not do it? It’s a simple 30 second procedure one does on their way out of the bathroom. I mean, in most bathrooms, the sink comes between the toilet and the door which means you are passing right by it anyway. Why not stop and wash your hands?
I like washing my hands. I am addicted to the smell of my Dove antibacterial foaming hand soap. I like the feeling of the hot water over my hands. And, there’s something reassuring about knowing that I’m doing my part to not spread germs. But maybe that’s just me.
Now I could go all OCD on this and point out the chain reaction that could occur from said person not washing their hands after using the facilities. But, I’m not going to because I’m sure you can do that all on your own. But now it has me wondering, how many people out there are not washing their hands? Even if you aren’t a big hand washer, wouldn’t you at a minimum do it in the presence of others, lest your dirty (pun intended) little secret get out?
The moral of this story: Wash your hands! It’s a deal breaker. I promise.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
What becomes of the blog when...
Like many in DC, I started my blog for a specific purpose and it had a "theme" (for lack of better words). This theme being my dating life, or lack thereof. Now that I'm about a month away from my first blog birthday and the experiment that started this blog is about to be over (without much success I add), I can't help but wonder where my blog goes from here.
There have been some benefits of having this blog. My friends from back home and my friends in DC that I may not see as often as I like are able to keep up with the goings on in my life. Just as importantly, it has also served as an outlet of sorts. A way for me to think through my thoughts and make decisions. Just like you are more likely to remember something by writing it down, I am also more likely to make a decision and stick to it when I see it on paper.
All that being said, no matter what purpose this blog has served for me, my friends or even the readers I don't know who come here for a good story or laugh, it has always been, at its core, a dating blog.
Where is the problem you may ask? I think I'm going on hiatus from dating. In the past year, I've met my fair share of guys, dated some of them and left some of them exactly where I found them. I don't feel any better off because of any of it. I don't feel like my life has been expanded in any real way because of these random guys I have met and gotten to know over the past year. I feel very ambivalent. Nothing gained, nothing lost.
So, I've decided it's time to reprioritize my life. I need to focus more on work, and continue spending time with my friends and start seeing more of those friends I don't see often enough. I need to save money and do things to make my first adult vacation all it can be. I need to focus on "me" and less on "me dating."
But I don't want to quit my blog. I like having it as an outlet. I just feel like I'm left with this big looming question of what do I now do with the blog? I could post witty commentary about people and the world around me, but I don't think I really like people very much (or so I've been told - I don't necessarily agree, I just may be slightly jaded is all). So that would end up just being mean and snarky and eventually I would just look bitter.
Anyhow, I'm not going on blog hiatus, I'm just going to attempt to take this in a change of direction. Here's hoping! Suggestions are always appreciated.
There have been some benefits of having this blog. My friends from back home and my friends in DC that I may not see as often as I like are able to keep up with the goings on in my life. Just as importantly, it has also served as an outlet of sorts. A way for me to think through my thoughts and make decisions. Just like you are more likely to remember something by writing it down, I am also more likely to make a decision and stick to it when I see it on paper.
All that being said, no matter what purpose this blog has served for me, my friends or even the readers I don't know who come here for a good story or laugh, it has always been, at its core, a dating blog.
Where is the problem you may ask? I think I'm going on hiatus from dating. In the past year, I've met my fair share of guys, dated some of them and left some of them exactly where I found them. I don't feel any better off because of any of it. I don't feel like my life has been expanded in any real way because of these random guys I have met and gotten to know over the past year. I feel very ambivalent. Nothing gained, nothing lost.
So, I've decided it's time to reprioritize my life. I need to focus more on work, and continue spending time with my friends and start seeing more of those friends I don't see often enough. I need to save money and do things to make my first adult vacation all it can be. I need to focus on "me" and less on "me dating."
But I don't want to quit my blog. I like having it as an outlet. I just feel like I'm left with this big looming question of what do I now do with the blog? I could post witty commentary about people and the world around me, but I don't think I really like people very much (or so I've been told - I don't necessarily agree, I just may be slightly jaded is all). So that would end up just being mean and snarky and eventually I would just look bitter.
Anyhow, I'm not going on blog hiatus, I'm just going to attempt to take this in a change of direction. Here's hoping! Suggestions are always appreciated.
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
You say it's your birthday
Usually I'm not a big fan of getting tagged with memes. I find they require too much thought. Today, though, Recovering Overachiever tagged me for the Birthday Meme. I like this one. Wikipedia did all the work for me.
Here's the rules:
1) Go to Wikipedia
2) In the search box, type your birth month and day but not the year.
3) List three events that happened on your birthday
4) List two important birthdays and one death
5) One holiday or observance (if any)
And here's what I learned:
Three events:
1) 1678: Elena Cornaro Piscopia is the first woman awarded the doctorate of philosophy
2) 1950: Beginning of the Korean War
3) 1999: Final episode of Another World airs on NBC after 35 years
2 Birthdays, 1 Death:
1930 - George Orwell is born (author)
1945 - Carly Simon is born (singer)
1997 - Jacques-Yves Cousteau dies
Holiday/Observance
National Catfish Day
Turns out I don't have a very exciting birthday. Oh well. I now tag t(h)om, and Belle
Here's the rules:
1) Go to Wikipedia
2) In the search box, type your birth month and day but not the year.
3) List three events that happened on your birthday
4) List two important birthdays and one death
5) One holiday or observance (if any)
And here's what I learned:
Three events:
1) 1678: Elena Cornaro Piscopia is the first woman awarded the doctorate of philosophy
2) 1950: Beginning of the Korean War
3) 1999: Final episode of Another World airs on NBC after 35 years
2 Birthdays, 1 Death:
1930 - George Orwell is born (author)
1945 - Carly Simon is born (singer)
1997 - Jacques-Yves Cousteau dies
Holiday/Observance
National Catfish Day
Turns out I don't have a very exciting birthday. Oh well. I now tag t(h)om, and Belle
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