Monthly Archives: January 2012

10 on Thursday

The Happy Birthday and GRE Edition!

1.  Meet Barrington, my friendly companion.

This is one of two pictures I can find of us together.  He may have had a black eye and I was about 20 years old, a recent college graduate and on a quite the bender if I remember correctly, but don’t we look cute?  I am almost positive tequila shots immediately followed this picture being taken.

2.  This is the other picture.  About 2 years ago– also a a bar.

I am fairly certain I was feeling up his pectoral muscles, because they are nice, ladies.  Barrington is 6 foot something of solid American rugby muscle.  You’d want to touch his pecs too.

3.  And all of this is important, because today is his birthday!  HAPPY 30TH BIRTHDAY, BARRINGTON!!!

4.  Barrington and I first met on my 19th birthday.  At a bar.  He was very confused as to why a 19 year old was celebrating her birthday in a bar and I was very confused why he was being mean to me on my birthday.  Fake IDs dude, fake IDs.  And I had a lot of them.

5.  The start of our friendship, after I forgave him for being mean to me on my birthday, was a month later–  fueled by a very drunk Labor Day party, the invention of Facebook chat and a lovely Friday evening spent at a German festival in Chicago.  It was our first friend-date.  From that day forward, I got to feel his pecs at my leisure.  I’m such a lucky girl.

Barrington– I hope you have a lovely day and I’m sorry I’m not there to celebrate with you.

6.  Today is picture day at work.  The picture of me on our website is terrible and was mildly traumatizing to take.  It was my first week on the job and I was still adjusting to the whole wake up early and put on big girl clothes thing, so I’m looking forward to a do-over.

I even took extra care with my hair and make- up this morning so the photographer couldn’t make fun of me again.  I won’t forget to smile!

7.  There was another birthday this week that I failed to mention during my partial hiatus.  Natalie, my favorite Republican and the best Valentine’s Day date of all time turned 27 (I think) on Tuesday.  Happy birthday, Natalie!  Natalie would like to formally request an apology from President Obama for interrupting her big day with the State of the Union address.  How rude.

8.  I signed up for the GRE’s this week, which seems both nuts and expensive.  With the $160 for the test and another $40 for the prep materials, I could have bought myself many many cute pairs of shoes.  Oh well, I guess I’m investing in my future and brain and shit.  My brain better cooperate and relearn math or I’m going to be really upset.

9.  Seriously–it’s been over 6 years since I’ve done any math beyond figuring out what to tip the waitress, so I might be screwed in that regard.  If I’m freaking out in a month about what the hell Y = MX + B means, please remind me to calm down.

10.  Back on the blue grass kick.  I’ve been listening to this song non-stop for the better part of the week.


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Happy birthday, Dad!

Tomorrow is my dad’s birthday– so happy birthday, Pops!  Do you get the senior discount yet?  You’re fifty…fifty…wow, math is hard with such large numbers, 2012 minus 1954, borrow the 1…58!  Congratulations, that’s a very round number.

We’ve got an excellent birthday date planned for this evening– a 5:30PM dinner reservation, tickets to the 7:10PM showing of Beauty and the Beast 3D and plans to be in our respective beds early.  Pretty much a Friday night that would make any 15 year old cry real tears.  I’m pretty excited.

Dad– I’m may be taller and you may have a lot more gray hair, but we still look damn good.  And feel free to smack me when I see you for all the old jokes.

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Max Becomes a Grown-Up

We take a break from our regularly schedule programing- 10 on Thursday- to bring you a post from my cousin Max.  Max and I, along with our younger siblings (we’re both the oldest of three and very close in age) spent many summers together at the cabin swimming, jumping on the trampoline and walking to Sweets ‘N Such for ice cream.

Or as I remember it– the boys torturing me, pulling the ladder up on the trampoline so I couldn’t climb on and INSISTING that my cousin Daniel who was born on July 31st was older than me, born on July 29th the same year, because 31 is a bigger number than 29.  Not that I’m holding any grudges.

Max has had a rough go of it at times, but he is one of the few people I know that decides– I am going to do _____, damnit!  And fucking does.  That relates to partyin’, sobriety, college, family, goals and everything in between.  I’m proud of the dude you’ve become, Max.  And without further adieu:

Max Becomes a Grown-Up

By Max, the brother of Rachel’s favorite cousin Josephine

I have read all of my cousin’s blog posts.  Why?  Well she is my cousin, she writes well (though she does need to proof once in a while [editor’s note: true]), and she is funny as hell.  I have a bit of bias because I love her to death, but her writing strikes a chord with me as does her theme: Growing UP.

I’ve generally just acted like a child.  Rachel can attest to this, but in the last five years I have tried my best to do the grown up… kind of.  Rachel, as my younger cousin, turned up the competitive heat and just had to start a blog, graduate, get a professional job, promoted, take flying lessons, and a bunch of other cool stuff all before the age of 25.

I took a different route to the road adulthood and at 27, am just now merging into traffic.  OK!  Enough with the hackneyed metaphors.  This is why I hate writers…except you Rach! [Thanks!]  I could bore you with drug addled details and alcoholic despair, but honestly, I bore my self.  Your imagination is better suited for the debauch.  I started back at school at 23 after a stint in rehab and have been catching up to adulthood ever since and I have a long way to go.

As of last month, I have joined the ranks of my peers who started what I should have started about five years ago.  Just yesterday, in fact, My ex-girlfriend referred to me as a “Man-Boy” rather than just a child.  So that’s progress…. right?  Honestly it is amazing we’re still on good terms, but that is a story for an entirely different time- which is never.

I am about to start a sales job with a small textile company.  Due to nepotism and some aggressive e-mails I conned my way into the job just like I conned my way through the university system of GA with grace, charm, and..yes.. actually doing some work.  If I have learned anything in the past few years it’s that a persona of fake confidence sometimes turns into real confidence, and that as long as you send a preemptive thank you note and kiss ass; people give you pretty much everything you need.

All of this has yielded some incredible opportunity.  I am making my way to the west coast and after six weeks in San Diego, I will be headed to Vietnam where I will whip sweat shop workers… into a frenzy for embroidery!!

Our generation has generally been on mixed terms with growing up.  Some of us never do -all of you know who I’m talking about- and some of us fall into it.  But most of us reside in a liminal state, a limbo of in between, trying to figure whatever “it” is out.  We’re the special ones.  Those of us who have the ambition and the urge to make impacts and be an example are the same ones who are still trying to grow and that’s what I call “Doing the Grown up.”

You can follow Max on Twitter @bananahambone.  And while you’re at it, follow me too @dointhegrownup.

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New Years Resolutions

I try to not make New Years resolutions because everyone seems to break them and I’m entirely too irritated by the I’m-going-to-lose-10-pounds resolutioners fucking about my gym for the month of January.  (Seriously, y’all, it’s mid-month, isn’t it time for you guys to quit yet?)

I do, however, like to make some generalized goals for the upcoming year.  I like rocking the generalized goals because it’s hard to fail when the bar is set low(ish) and because you all must feel bad when your New Years Resolutions fail miserably.  And I really hate setting myself up to fail.


1.  Buy jeans that make my ass look fine as hell AND are as comfortable as my boyfriend jeans.  And quit wearing my boyfriend jeans in public.

(This has been done!  Comfort and a fine looking behind in the form of Lucky Brand’s Sweet and Low.)

2.  Finally go to Annapolis.  The fact that I’ve lived in DC for three years now and have yet to visit that city to enjoy both their crab cakes and sailors is upsetting.

3.  Save lots and lots of money.

4.  Explore my options.  As I said last week, I have no mother fucking idea what I want to be when I grow up.  But that doesn’t mean I can’t start figuring it out.  Now when I come across a job or career path that sparks my attention,  I try to figure out what excites me about the job and what I would have to do to get to that place in my career.

5.  Take the GREs.  While going to grad school has never really been on my radar, I know that if I ever decide to go back it will be because one day I’ll wake up and think–  Sharpen the pencils!  Bust out the graphing calculator!  I need to go to grad school NOW! If that day comes, I want to be prepared.

6.  Find solutions to the problems.  I decided when I got promoted that I was going to be the most pro-active executive assistant this place had ever seen.  If I had a problem, I was going to do my find a workable solution.   Plain and simple.  I am going to try and do this with life as well.

7.  Be more adventurous.  I am by no means a scaredy cat, but I need to do more stuff.  Like taking an art class, or kayaking up the Potomac on the weekend or spending more time in the woods.

8.  Stick my toes in the damn Atlantic.  I haven’t been to an East Coast beach since I was a kid and that is shameful.  That will change this summer– even if I have to drive to Dewey, stick my toes in the ocean and then drive home.

9.  Take myself more seriously.  I forget sometimes that I’m one smart cookie.

10.  Follow the two rules and expect others to do so as well.  The rules are– do what you say you’re going to do when you say you’re going to do it.  And be nice.







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10 on Thursday

10 7 on Thursday

1.  I have to go to the lady business doctor tomorrow, which will prove to be very interesting.  Nothing like having someone who has 1.)  seen you naked from the waist down and hysterically crying and 2.) poured you a glass of wine at her parent’s house stab you repeatedly with needles trying to find your vein.

2.  For #1 to be interesting, you need to remember these things:

See!  It is going to be super fun.  I am looking forward to it.

3.  I rebooted my OKC account to stalk Andy P the other day since he wouldn’t e-mail me back about his dating profile and I’ve since been re-traumatized by dudes e-mailing me and asking me to “chit chat” and gentlemen looking f0r someone who is “passionate about everything they do”.

I don’t know about you, but I am surely not passionate about taking out the trash, or shaving my legs.  Both things suck, but must get done.  I will be deactivating once again, thank you very much.

4.  OKC has a “question” section in which you answer questions about yourself that range from humorous to well meaning to all around creepy.  My two favorites thus far:

  • Have you ever attempted to murder another human being?
  • Imagine you have a significant other who reveals they have a video tape of a sexual encounter from a prior relationship and offers to show it to you. Would you want to see it?

If I did happen to murder someone, I am surely not going to admit that on my dating profile (although nice attempt to weed out the creepers, OKC!) and um, I’m going to guess no.

5.  I also need to formally retract my bold statement that Andy P loves bourbon.  He in fact hates it.  I was confusing him with former-Roommate C who loves bourbon so much he and his lady are getting hitched at a bourbon distillery in Kentucky this April.  Andy P, I am sorry for misrepresenting you on the internet.

6.  Speaking of roommates, look at how fine Roommate B looks in his new hat.  He calls it– my white elephant Christmas gift from work.  And I call it– stylish in northern Minnesota.

7.  And I’ve now run out of things to say!  I hope everyone has a good afternoon and I am going to go back to work. And by work I mean googling vacations.  Doesn’t this look nice?  I will however, leave you with a song of the week.  I bring to you Nate Dogg.


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2 years

Today marks two whole years working for my company.  When I walked in the door at 9AM wearing an ill-fitting suit and having a bad hair day in 2010 I didn’t think there was a smallest chance in hell I would make it through the first month, let alone the first year.  Or the second.  But here I am– now firmly planted in my own office with a door and a window overlooking the park.  I’ve been given a promotion.  And a company blackberry.  And a iPad.  And an AmEx with my name on it.

My company and I have had a couple rocky moments.  I’ve been reprimanded for having a bit of a sass problem, been told that my personality was “too strong”.  I’ve shown up wearing a purple bra under a white button-down shirt.  Once flashed a VP when I got the back of my dress stuck in my nude color tights.  I sent out an invitation to every single scheduler on Capitol Hill with a typo*.  Ups and downs, y’all!  But that’s enough of that.  Let’s just say it hasn’t been smooth sailing.

Your first year out of college is kind of like your freshmen year of LIFE– and I am completely aware of how ridiculous and cliche that sounds**.  The transition from college to professional life is a rough one, at least it was for me. You’re caught hopelessly in the middle of wanting to say up drinking all night and having to be at work showered and dressed by 9AM.  Forced to shift from a wardrobe full of Free People dresses and cowboy boots to respectable high heels and dress pants from Banana Republic.  All of a sudden you have to be awake at 7:3o in the morning and technically can’t still be drunk from the night before.

I’m not sure how other colleges do shit– but when I graduated I had absolutely no clue how to write a resume, or find a job or interview.  I walked into this place two years and didn’t even know how to use a copy machine, so I think I’ve come a long way.  For one, it’s been a really long time since I’ve flashed anyone and I think I’ve finally figured out what exactly “professional attire” means.  I no longer FREAK OUT when my blackberry makes noise and contribute to my 401K like a responsible adult.

So I’ve got the whole behaving in polite and professional society kind of down.  But that doesn’t mean I have any idea what I want to do when I grow up.  People ask me all the time– well, you don’t want to be an executive assistant forever, what do you want to do?  It isn’t lack of ambition or options or drive, it’s simply that I have no fucking idea.  If I knew what I wanted to do, I’d be doing it already.

I invited my friend L over last night for my delicious delicious homemade wild rice soup with ham*** and we had the same conversation I’ve had numerous times with her and others.  We know we probably don’t want to stay in DC for the rest of our lives, we think maybe we should go to grad school but don’t know what we want to study, our jobs are fine but don’t inspire us in anyway.  As L put it, “the world is our oyster and that sucks”.

So here I am.  Two years into this.  Three and a half years out of college.  Still no clue where I see myself in five years.  Or five months for that matter.  But I’d like to think I’m doing alright.  I moved here three years ago without a single friend on the Eastern seaboard, a 100K degree and no tangible skills.  And look at me now– I’ve got roommates that I think are pretty great, a large group of friends that will meet me for happy hour and pick me up at the airport and a job that for the most part has allowed me to figure my professional shit out on their time.  I’ve come a long way.  And today– that is good enough.

*Please R-V-S-P.

**And if my freshman year of college is any indication– as I spent the majority of it wearing sweatpants and eating Smuckers Uncrustables, it doesn’t go well.

***L hates ham, by the way, so I picked all the ham pieces out of her bowl.  How good of a friend am I?!

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Happy birthday, Danny Mac!

I was out sick yesterday, y’all– taking many many naps, watching bad daytime television and eating soup.  Lots and lots of soup.  Over the course of the day I ate chicken noodle soup with Sponge Bob Square Pants noodles, tomato bisque with a grilled cheese sandwich and then because I was so freaking bored– I walked my sniffling self to the grocery store in the snow so I could make wild rice soup with ham FROM SCRATCH.

Because I was not in front of my computer for 8 hours yesterday and writing anything beyond a Facebook status update on my iPad is annoying, I didn’t get a chance to do this:  HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DANNY MAC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  A year older and quite possibly a year wiser*, I hope you had the best 26th birthday a dude could ask for.

I’ve got things to do and meetings to schedule.  I will tell you all about my super fast biking skills and moderately impressive poker skills tomorrow.  Word to your mothers.

*The jury is still out.

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Who wants to date Andy P?

Ladies and ladies, allow me to introduce you to my roommate Andy P.

About Andrew:  New York born and South Carolina bred, Andy P likes beer, bourbon and bbq.  He never misses a Jets or Capitals game, enjoys nothing more than a hot dog with onions and sauerkraut at Yankee stadium or happy hour after a long week at the office.  As far as roommates go, he is pretty great.  He cooks up a mean chicken parmesan, can reach all the things on the high shelves in the kitchen and never ever makes me mow the front lawn.  Andrew will pick you up at the airport, is a most excellent kickball player and will carry the team if you suck at beer pong.  Plus– he looks damn good in a suit.

Andrew is on the market for the cute girl next door type.  If you’re outgoing, love to take in what DC has to offer, can tolerate an entire Sunday afternoon of football and love your family and friends, you’re the girl for him.  If you’re interested, give me a shout at  Mets fans need not apply.

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10 on Thursday – back in the saddle!

1.  See?!  I told you I’d try harder.  Not much hard, but a little bit harder.  A post 2 days in a row!  Excuse me for a second while I pat myself on the back and turn up the Biz Markie.

2.  The Boss Man gifted me a grip of cacti for Christmas.  I use the term gift loosely because it turns out what actually happened is his wife, Mrs. Boss Man, told him to get them out of the house and there is literally not a single open surface in his office for an additional plant.

“And,” he said, “I’m pretty sure even you can’t kill a cactus.”  I stiffed the urge to yell– sounds like a challenge, sir!– and instead pinky promised to water them once a month.

2.  Tim’s dog Mila, an entire 13 pounds, tried to take on my aunt’s gigantic great dane when we were at her house for Christmas.  We’ve come to the following conclusion about the little pup that slept under the covers and could sneak herself under the fence and out into the world like lightning– she’s bright, just not very sharp.

3.  I got this G Chat yesterday.  I won’t tell you who sent it, but feel free to make fun:

oh god
I just started crying at work
because I watched this video
about these elephants
that were friends and then one was in a like shitty zoo thing
and then they got reunited
I know
but they are best friends
and friends
omg they are so cute

4.  Thanks to Dan Savage– I 100% cannot take Santorum seriously.  I can’t take his sweater vest seriously either.  And if you’ve never googled Santorum you probably need too– although I don’t recommend doing it at work.

5.  If you’re going to ask me if I made any New Years Resolutions, the answer is no, because everyone and their mother knows that no one follows that shit.   I simply resolve to do better than I did last year– to work harder, play harder and have an adventure or two along the way.

6.  And I resolve to get to the gym earlier than those trying to lose ten pounds.  Because they are the worst.

7.  I finally figured out how to remove Spotify from my Facebook.  To celebrate, I listened to the same song 8 times in a row because no one can judge me.  Because they’ll never know.  Ha!

8.  Today is my co-worker Joe’s birthday!  Happy birthday, Joe!  We celebrate birthdays at my office with cupcakes– our new staff assistant is both horrified and impressed I can rattle off the cupcake preference of every person in our office.  She hopes to be as pathetic as me one day.  The girl can dream.

9.  It’s almost Girl Scout Cookie season!  And there is a new one!  Thank the gods of cookies that I now have a co-worker with a daughter who is a girl scout.  There were many years I had to stalk suburban grocery stores on Saturday mornings looking for caramel delites.  And now they come to me.

10.  Song of the week– my roommate was playing this the other day and I had immediate flashbacks to my friend Bryna poppin’ and lockin’ in my back yard when we were kids.

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I’m back!


I suck in the worst way.  Every day on my winter vacation* I would think to myself– self, you should write a blog post today.  It will be virtually painless.  You might even enjoy it.  And then after you write that blog post, you could go to the gym for a little yoga.  Or some pilates.  And then spend quality time with your family.  And shower.  And eat something other than precooked bacon straight out of the package.  And change out of your sweatpants.

But this is what actually happened for the entire 10 days I was not at work: eating, drinking, napping, napping, eating, drinking, shopping, eating, drinking.  Which was then followed by family bonding yelling-style.  Because my brothers and I regress the second we enter our mother’s household and start squabbling like babies.  Even though we’re fucking adults.  And then we all feel bad that we yelled at each other and have a cocktail.  And kiss and make up.  For about 8 hours until we’re  screaming at each other again.


We had the usual bunch on Christmas Eve– you know, 58 adults and 10 kids under the age of 6.  We sang the Christmas carols, we ate the wild rice, we got yelled at for being the naughty cousins who were talking during the singing.  If you’d like to know what that type of Christmas is like in comparison to your sane, quiet, people in the single digit Christmas–  just imagine sheer chaos + 10 munchkins running around on a holiday sugar high + 25 pounds of wrapping paper and everyone talking at top volume.  You get the idea.

Later that night after the house had been cleaned and everyone went home, my 95 year old grandfather decided he had had enough.  His hearing aids had been off for hours.  His house was finally righted.  It was time for him to go to sleep.  As he was getting up from his chair, my mother said, “Dad!  Don’t turn off the TV.  The kids will probably stay up for a bit.”

Papa said, “NOPE.  We’re going to bed!”  And then he shut off the TV.  At 10PM.


My brother Timmy secretly got a dog a couple months ago and I say secretly because my mother 100% believes that anyone under the age of 30 should not own a dog.  I am the most responsible person alive and she thinks that even I should not own a dog.  Mostly because she is afraid that I’ll one day be like–  I’m going to move to the Arctic forever!  Here, mom, take my dog.  Or– shit, mom, my dog ate a whole corn on the cob (true story, happened to my cousin Mina) and they’re going to have to surgically remove it and I have no money!  Can I have 8 billion dollars?

Tim handled the situation quite well though, I must say.  He sat my mother down and premised the situation in a way that she was convinced Tim had done something truly terrible like failed out of college or held up a liquor store.  When he confess that the big gigantic secret was in fact a 9 month old Jack Russell named Mila (after Mila Kunis), she was so relieved that she allowed herself to fall in love with the little punk.  As we all did.  I wanted to steal her so bad.


Well, ultimately there is no moral to the story.  I got fat over the holidays.  Some of my pants don’t fit.  Yes, it was worth it.  Those 25 bread sticks I ate on Christmas Eve (that is in NO WAY an exaggeration) were delicious in ways that I cannot even begin to explain.

The wine I drank was also delicious.  I still have a bruise on my leg from how delicious it was because as it turns out Rachel + too much wine + a dark hallway and a misplaced laundry basket don’t mix well together.

And that is that.  Work has been pretty busy this week, but I do solemnly swear to try to suck less in the immediate to near future.

*It was like I was back in high school!  2 weeks off!  No homework!

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