Monthly Archives: March 2013

Two Things

My excellent friend and walking/wine on the front porch companion Liza (who most likely made you jealous here) is heading to Borneo on Tuesday to complete project she started working on last year.  The decision to go was very last minute, therefore, she’s got an extra long to do list and is slightly on the overwhelmed side.  

Me: What’d you do today?

Liza: I worked until like 2AM this morning and am starting to freak out because I need international medical insurance and can’t find my cell phone charger converter and have to fit three works of work into 5 days!  What are you up to?

Me: I just cased Ann Taylor Loft and Anthropologie for my summer wardrobe.  We’re both doing our part for society.  I’m stimulating the economy and you’re saving the rain forest.  I’d say that’s a draw.

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Also, I just got the following g chat from Barrington–

Barrington: Haha, you blog is blocked at my job now because it is in the web category “pornography.”

Me: Tumbrl is blogged at my job.

Barrington:  Yeah, but it isn’t blocked because it is a blog.  It is blocked because it is “pornography.”

My bad, mom.

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60 Degrees and Sunny

The weather was beautiful this weekend (sorry, Minnesotans).  The second I stepped out the front door I was like OMFG SPRINGTIME!!! and spent the next couple of hours walking and biking and sitting outside at the Big Bear Cafe hipster watchin’ (a favored summer activity). I drank my first ice coffee and sneezed from my first bout of allergies* and acquired some raccoon eyes from my sunglasses and a scoop neck t-shirt tan line on my chest.

You guys, it was blissful. I ran to the gym Sunday afternoon and by the time I got there, was literally giddy with a combo runner + weather high that made me unable to pause between sentences or stop grinning. “Hiiiii it’s so nice outside I’m so happy this is amazing how are you I’m great!” I said to J, who spots me on the bench press sometimes. And other times takes me out to dinner.

I’m not mentally prepared for 105 degrees with 145% humidity.  But I am certainly ready to sit on my front porch reading my book, to sleep with my window open and ban my tights to the back of my closet until next year.

*Have I mentioned? A doctor told me once after allergy testing that I’m allergic “to pretty much everything outside” in D.C., so that’s great.

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I told J stories about my grandma Jean, my mother’s mother, last night. She was one classy lady—the best way to describe her– and we adored each other.

She’s one of those people you can feel the miss for deep in your bones.  I sat down at my mother’s kitchen table a couple of years after she died, put my head down and burst into tears because I missed her so much that day.  “Oh, honey,” my mom said.  “I cried the whole way home from work yesterday.”  Sometimes, there must be something in the air.  Springtime maybe.

I have one of her sweaters buried deep in my closet. I refuse to wear it, because when I bury my face in the wool I can almost smell her.

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Some Things on Thursday

I haven’t quite mastered the balance between spending an entire work day editing dense policy documents and fucking with track changes (because track changes is the worst) and thinking really hard about effect vs. affect (because I may never instinctively know that) and then sitting down at my Mac when I get home to blog.  Because quite frankly, I don’t want to type another word or worry about another comma the second I leave this place at 5PM.

But Roommate B’s girlfriend J (known from here on out as GFJ, because that makes sense),who is also in communications in an industry very similar to my own, and also a sometimes-when-I-feel-like-it blogger, and I have decided to recommit to tend to our little blogs.  And say nice things to each other about the words we successfully get on paper.  So we’ve got that going for us.

I’m afraid I’m going to greatly disappoint GFJ right off the bat though– when I steadfastly refuse to only put one space between sentences.  But I assume that’s something we can work through.

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This year has been a start.  My friend’s mother passed away, my uncle passed away, my great-aunt passed away.  One per month in 2013.  While very sad, it’s be a nice reminder that life is always a little sweeter than you think.  And to not sweat the small stuff.  And it’s all kind of small stuff.

In other news, my cousin had a baby girl.  I think she’s #65 if you add up the cousins and the spouses and the great-grand babies.  As my aunts say, we come from a tribe.

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I was “snowed in” with Tsunami the dog, who choose to sleep completely under the bed, I assume to protest his owner Bree’s absence. I may walk him and feed him and pet him, but I just don’t quite add up.  Or he agrees with most people I’ve ever shared a bed with that I steal the covers.

Not a single snowflake stuck to the ground in Northeast D.C. yesterday, but work was still called off, so I conference called and responded to emails in my pajamas and didn’t shower until 5PM.  I made an egg scramble with bacon and cheddar cheese and broccoli  for breakfast and silently thanked Bree’s mother for buying her a Keurig coffee machine* for Christmas and finished season three of Downton Abby.

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We have a new roommate, Roommate S!  He hails from the great state of Pennsylvania and is a lobbyist and is currently sleeping on an air mattress   And that’s about all I know about him.  But he seems nice and like he’ll fit into the frat house very well.

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And that’s about all I have for you this morning.  We’re all doing just fine.  The sun is shining.  I made it to work on time. My hair is just as frizzy as I suspected and my clothes match.  It’s going to be a good day.

*The local coffee shop is closed while new owners take over, the day would have been a disaster without that Keurig.

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2013 – Four Weeks In

I drafted this on January 28th and never posted.  So here you go, a double whammy of blog posting, because I’m going to attempt a 10 on Thursday just as soon as this coffee kicks in.

4 weeks in and this year has started with a bang.  No time to adjust.  Or to get one’s bearings.  In such a way that I’ve been hoarding soup– chicken noodle, lentil soup with sausage, carrot and ginger, a single serving of wild rice soup with ham and a full tupperware of chicken stock– in my freezer.  I’ve taken up running, like actual running, with feels both good and the current fool proof way to quiet my brain.  I’ve also been calling my parents a lot.

There have been a series of mini-earthquakes, although the earthquakes are not my own.  I won’t say much about them on these pages, other than if you have a spare candle to light, do so for Roommate A’s family.  Or get on your benders or click your beads, as my family would say. The one thing I will say is that situation has taught me that we, as a household, have developed an amazing circle of friends.  Something that you always know, but really recognize in the face of these mini-earthquakes.  It’s nice to be reminded that people are good.

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My new boss started a couple weeks ago.  She is decisive and smart and to the point, which I appreciate.  She stood next to my desk her first week, as I explained one thing or another, and reached for an open box of Triscuit crackers I had sitting on my desk. “I’m starving, can I have a few?” she asked, while simultaneously opening the box and reaching in.  I decided to like her immediately.  She’s going to make my brain hurt and stretch me outside of my professional comfort zone.  It’s going to be stressful and great.

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On one of those gorgeous 50 degree days we had a couple weeks back, I decided to bike myself to Georgetown for a little window shopping.  By the time I reached Wisconsin Avenue, my jeans had worn completely through on the thigh.  So I took that opportunity to purchase a new pair, since I was in the perfect location– same brand, style and almost the same color.  Just one size down.  Look at me go.

I was out with a friend this morning, on a coffee and botanical garden date.  It’s been cold in D.C. the past week (by D.C. standards at least) and the warm, humid air of the botanical garden, with a good book and a Starbucks latte, is good for the soul. I walked to the gym afterwards, wearing my new jeans, that you should know I’ve washed twice.  As I peeled them off in the gym locker room, I noticed my legs were dyed blue from hip all the way down to my white crew socks.  Fun for me, I only had shorts in my locker. The ladies watching my scrub my legs with a white, soon to be light blue, gym towel must have thought I was crazy.  Sometimes, I feel the same way.

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I’m online dating.  Which, as I’ve said, is an exercise in rejection.  As it turns out, match.com really drives that point home.  I tend to email eligible bachelors from bed on Saturday mornings, as I’ve decided, for the next few months at least, that getting out of bed at a specified time or to an alarm clock on Saturday mornings is absolutely unacceptable. Sometimes I email people I think I actually could be interested in.  But mostly it’s for sport.  Or curiosity.

As it turns out– on match.com, if the person in question you’re messaging isn’t interested, you get the following email: Some people just don’t now a good thing… [Username] isn’t interested right now. He appreciates your taking the time to write, but just doesn’t think it’s a good match. Don’t be discouraged. Magic happens when you least expect it. With millions of singles on Match.com, you could be just a click away from finding someone who’s right for you. This seems incredibly unnecessary to me.  Thanks, dude.

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Also, Barrington’s birthday was this weekend.  So happy birthday, Barrington!  I texted him my well wishes and he responded– you almost forgot.  Yes, I did almost forget.  But I didn’t. While we’re at it, it was my father’s birthday last week as well.  In his honor, we went out for cocktails– American honey on ice for me and Johnny Walker for him– and sushi on H Street.  He’s still got it.

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