Monthly Archives: September 2012

Dear City of DC,

A couple weeks ago, Roommate B decided to drive to the bar to meet a friend for a couple of late afternoon beers.  After more than a couple beers, he then decided to be responsible and take a cab home with the intention of retrieving his car Sunday morning.  Roommate B didn’t remember the location of his car until Monday morning when he was leaving for work.

He of course got a $25 parking ticket (and was late for work).  He contested the ticket with the following letter.  He is incredibly proud of himself.

Dear Adjudication Services:

I agree with you. I would be very upset, too, about some jerk parking in a restricted space for an extended period of time.

I know that you have a job to do and strict rules to follow. The fact that I’m even insulting your department with this explanation of my minor parking infraction slightly embarrasses me to be honest.

I will not bore you with the specifics, but I drove to this particular parking spot to be with a friend who was in need. This friend was experiencing one of many difficult times in his life and to be frank I didn’t even think about where I was parking. My friend and I shared a meal, and then ventured around the city (walking considerably far from said parking space).

If you can believe it, I picked up my car not twenty minutes after the ticket was issued. Can you believe that? Twenty measly minutes was the difference between an enjoyable Monday ride to work and a $25 violation triggering a doo-doo filled start to my week? Yup! Rules are rules though, and nobody is more disappointed than I am in myself.

These economic times are tough and every penny helps. I ask that you reconsider this fine and give me a second chance to prove I can adhere to these parking guidelines. Thank you in advance for your time and consideration.

Sincerely,

Roommate B

 

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Survival of the FNG

FNG = FUCKING NEW GUY

I’ve survived two whole days at my new office.  I met like 20 people Monday morning and then promptly forgot all their names.  Every time someone walks by me they greet me by name and then I feel like a terrible person.  But quite frankly, it’s not fair.  They only have to remember one name– the name of the red headed terrified looking girl that wasn’t there before.  There is only one of me.  There are many of them.

And I only look slightly terrified.  Like when acronyms are used (it took me MONTHS to learn all of the acronyms in my last office) or when trying to use the printer.  There are three so far that I’ve located in the office.  I tried to print to the one near my office unsuccessfully multiple times today, decided it was broken and returned to tiny printer in my office that was out of ink (pro tip: shake the cartridge).  Hours later I found the document I’d printed on all the other printers.  Huge win.  At least I know they work now.

So– so far, so good.  At least I haven’t flashed anyone yet.

COMING TO YOU LIVE

I’m sitting on my front porch with a glass of wine typing on my brand new fancy million dollar Apple computer. I’ve both saved and spent a lot of money in my life but handing over my credit card for a 1K+ charge made me nervous.  I’ve never at least spent that much money in one swoop before.

Unless you count the fact that I gave my mother a check for 8K the day I left for college.  And all that did was make me want to unpack all my boxes, not go to college and take all that money back.  It looked so nice in my savings account.

P.S.  I can’t figure out how to make the words on the screen bigger, so if there are a lot of typos in this post it’s both because I haven’t located my magnifying glass or figured out how to spell check.

THE 612

My time in Minnesota, as well as my brief “funemployment” was lovely.  After a couple of days in DC my house had never been so clean, my clothes never been so properly folded in my closet or dry cleaned and by 4PM every day I was staring at the door waiting for someone ANYONE to come home from work to hang out with me.  A Comcast employee with decent conversation skills would have even been sufficent.

My pal Gigi’s wedding was beautiful, the food amazing, the bride gorgeous.  I stood up in front of 150 people and gave a witty–yet appropriate speech given the grandparents in the room.  And didn’t even fall down the stairs getting off the stage.  I’d give that a 100% win.

So I’m surviving and thriving.  That’s my point.

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