It's late, but this is the Valentine's Day rant.

I would just avoid this subject entirely, but I hate to pass up an opportunity to be sarcastic and annoying.

Ok, folks, Valentine's Day.

Can I just share a few things that make me want to barf? Also, can we pretend I posted this last Thursday? Don't run for the hills, this post isn't the ranting of a cynical single gal who is secretly (yet publicly) bitter about her singlehood -- although that would be funny, right? And not overdone at all.

No, these are the rantings of a very content single gal (who may hold just a tad of bitterness every now and then, whatevs whatevs shrug it off) who feels ambushed every year by overpriced flowers, insincere cards, and those boxes of chalky-tasting candy hearts. 

Ok, no. I shouldn't be angry at these inanimate objects. Chocolate is meant to be eaten, not hated on. Ya know what I'm really ambushed by? Two groups of people.

The first is predictable, and I'm sure y'all don't mean to do it. But really, all you couples: you are adorable. You are. I applaud your right to hold hands while waiting for a coffee at Starbucks, it's cute that you're taking your time (and space) strolling leisurely down Capitol Hill's uneven brick sidewalks, I don't even mind the public make-out-sessions while I'm jogging around the monuments. Go for it, ye snoggers!

HOWEVER. Just because Valentine's Day is a holiday celebrating love (I'll come back to that in a moment) doesn't mean that the normal rules governing public displays of affection have suddenly disappeared. What this means for you: I know you want to stand next to your honey on the bus, or the metro, but dude seriously it's rush-hour and I'm being crushed by a wall of frustrated commuters and can you please just budge up there a bit? You and your boo can stand apart for a few minutes. Also, the Metro is not an appropriate (or sanitary?) space for a make-out session.

Group 2. All the single ladies! AaaaAAAAlll the single ladies, put yo hands up! (My parents will not get that musical reference, I'll explain it later guys. Also, thanks for letting me tease you online. Again.)

Single ladies. Stop hating on love. It's annoying. I know your heart was broken by That Guy, but c'mon now. Don't try and ruin it for everyone else. And don't try to pull us neutrals into your hate-camp, drinking martinis at the bar and snapping your fingers for "Another round!" while you list off all the annoying things about couples. Yup, some of those things ARE annoying. But I don't see how getting publicly drunk and belligerent will help. (It's totally ok to do that with your gal pals at home, though! *cough cough* I've never done that.)

I guess that brings me to Group 3. Bonus!

Hey, Commercialization -- you suck. You've taken something really beautiful, rare, and life-changing and reduced it to red heart-shaped balloons, frilly lace, a box of plastic-y chocolates, and requisite roses. "Hey, I love you today. Because it's February 14." What about all those OTHER days of the year? Isn't it just as important to love me on October 22? Feb 14 is a holiday that marketing companies have discovered they can use to guilt people into demonstrating affection -- and if someone forgets *ahem, guys* then BAM. You must not love me. And now I'm gonna be angry because you've forgotten it's Arbitrary Affection Day, and you're gonna be angry that I've forgotten all those other times you brought me flowers "just because."

Yup. Sure makes sense.

Furthermore, there are so many kinds of love. Feb 14 only showcases the soppy, happily-ever-after kind. What about sacrifical love? Or sisterly love? Or parental love? My parents have never failed to send me flowers on Valentine's Day, no matter where in the world I am.  But you don't see commercials encouraging you to tell your best friend how much you appreciate her.

Wanna read another excellent blog on this last point? Check it out: Love is Not Pretty, and It is Not Pink. Good read.

Ok, I think my rant is over for now. Cuz I'm tired and, ya know, there are fresh cookies in the kitchen.

What I've Discovered in the Last 2 Months

1. I occasionally have trouble motivating myself. I thought about forcing myself to write TV-show reviews in order to instill some consistency to this blog -- what's something that is fascinating yet terrible, trying to be serious yet easy to make fun of, and generally wants to make me run out in traffic? Of course, The Bachelor. But whelp, no fewer than four of my friends already write reviews. (They're hilarious, read here, here, here, and here. Yes, I consider Time Magazine a friend.)

2. Apparently, I currently live in a land of fantastical realities: even though half a million people live here, DC has no congressional representation; some people hate their job and yet pull 12-hr days; and the weather swings drunkenly from high 20's to low 70's in the course of 2 days.

3. The DMV area closes schools 2 hours early because there *might* be .5 to 2 inches of snow.

4. The DC/Maryland/Virginia area is sometimes called the DMV area. And saying it makes me feel like a boss.

5. Not going home for Christmas, to put it eloquently, really really sucks.

6. ...But an empty house, a crackling fire, a bag of BBQ chips, rye whiskey (my newest obsession), and bad Netflix Christmas movies can cure just about any bad day.

7. Hey, Inauguration is pretty cool. And intense. Cops and people, cops and people everywhere. Throw in some spicy and unsolicited political opinions, a bit of Barack's speech, a dash of Beyonce's pre-recorded voice, and one of FLOTUS Michelle's purple gloves, stir vigorously, and you've got yourself an official Experience.

The Sis' and my view from a ticketed area,
(cuz we got connections, yo)
in the furthest away of the ticketed areas
(so our "connections" weren't that great, whatever.)

8. I'm sure I've discovered a lot more, but I've also learned that on warm rainy nights I would rather curl up next to an open window, listen to the steady beat of rain on the sidewalk, and sink into a good book. Can you believe I've never read To Kill A Mockingbird? (My high school failed me. And I make a terrible college English major. Oops.)

Careful with those winky faces: some notes on friendliness

Our era of pervasive (invasive?) technology, constant texting, and social media has changed the way people interact. Don't believe me? Check out articles here, here, and here. Whatever your thoughts on the matter, technology is here to stay (and grow), and the way we communicate is adapting along with it.

For instance, let's take texting. Have you ever tried to explain texting etiquette to your father, a man who could barely be bothered to TURN ON his phone and yet has recently purchased a smartphone?

My text: "Dad, you have to add some more punctuation to your texts...otherwise you sound detached, like a robot ;) "
Dad's text: "Beep"

Thanks, Dad. You're hilarious.

Smiley faces, winky faces, sunglass faces, evil grin faces...they are powerful little emoticons that can help soften your messages, adding color to something that could otherwise be very flat and impersonal. They can also convey things that words simply cannot. Just ask anyone who's ever flirted via text. Ahem, don't ask me; in case this isn't abundantly clear from earlier posts, I'm kind of awkward.

However! Be careful with thy winky faces! For with great power comes great responsibility: you may think you're being friendly, chill, and awesome [Drinks after work? 6? ;) ], but text messaging has an amazing capacity to be misunderstood. It lacks TONE. Maybe someone's response [Sure] is short and curt because you smell and are clingy and they actually don't want to get together for drinks. OR maybe the office is busy and he/she just can't think beyond the next 10 minutes.

Texts can also be misunderstood in the other direction. Say, for instance, you're harmlessly chatting with the cute desk manager at your gym. He happens to have experience in your desired career. You exchange numbers and start texting, arranging a time to meet up and talk about that career further. Then he sends this: "I hope business isn't the only reason you come to the gym. :D"

Oh my.

You don't want to give him the wrong impression. You have a boyfriend after all. (Readers, it should be noted that this is not my story.) So you gulp and, being both sensible and sensitive, send back, "Hey, hate to do this over text, but I actually have a bf. Always interested in meeting a new friend tho!"

He returns, quickly: "lol thats not what i meant but i could see how it would come off that way. i actually have a girl myself."

You: "Oh awesome. I'm gonna go die of embarrassment now."

Take-away lesson here: Be care with thy winky faces, people. Be careful with thy winky faces.


Editor's note: Texts have been changed to reflect some norms of punctuation, in order to make content accessible to those not familiar with texting jargon. Aka, my parents. Love you guys! 

Workin the DC grind

Last week wrapped up what was probably the busiest week of my life at work. I've occasionally worked into the evenings, but last week was the first time where 8 pm saw me still at my desk, tapping tiredly at the keyboard, trying to make deadlines, filing paperwork, etc etc, other Frantic Office Stuff.

I don't know about all of you, but 11 hours in front of a computer leave me drained and sad about my future.  

I've always believed in having a healthy balance between a work life and a personal life. I want to be passionate about what I do, yes, but I also don't want my job to drive me into the ground and destroy whatever fervor I have for my field. (Otherwise I'll just end up a fat dog-lady (the new cat-lady) who yells at the dumb broads on The Bachelor.)

This is pretty tough to manage in DC. (The work-life balance, not the dog-lady thing.) People define themselves by their job. Whenever you meet someone here, the first question is almost always "So what do you do?"

This really frustrates me, but I haven't figured out a classy way around it. "Tell me about who you ARE, as a PERSON" doesn't come off too well. And asking lots of detailed questions about someone's non-work life can veer quite suddenly into stalker-land. I'm still working on this...suggestions welcome.

Now that that segue is over, I want to take some time to address the work culture of DC. Because clearly, I missed out on some club meeting where everyone here decided the new Rules that Everyone Shall Follow. Drat, it's middle school all over again. 

Also, I like lists. Aren't they efficient? 

Rule #1: Thou shalt go into the office early. What job you have will determine how early you go in. Government job, think early. Like, early early. I don't have a government job, not yet anyway, so I can't speak to this entirely, but 7 or 8 seems normal. Even if you don't have a government job, earlier is better.

Rule #2: Thou shalt stay late. Leaving at 6 is leaving on schedule, but 7 or 8 seems more normal for some of my friends. Later gives you a Truly Dedicated Award. (I have one friend who stays until 9 on the reg.)

Rule #3: Thou shalt donate weekends. Notice I say "donate." Oh, you thought you'd get overtime? Hahahaha, excuse me, but bahaha. That's precious.

Last weekend I was up until 1 am trying to meet a deadline. Nope. No overtime. If you have a cool boss you can shuffle those hours around and take time off later, but not everyone has a cool boss.

I can take the above three rules and distill them into a nice graph for you.

*Note: Graph may not be mathematically accurate. As previously mentioned, I'm no math major.

As you can see, people in my age and pay bracket (that would be the "who are you" section) commit ungodly hours to our jobs. This is because we want to prove ourselves and move up the food chain. We want to move up the food chain so that we can eventually put in the same ungodly hours -- but at least we'll have a fancy title! And we'll truly AFFECT policy! And there is nothing unrealistic about this dream whatsoever! Yay!

Until then, the drudgery must continue. And that brings us to Rule #4, my personal favorite.

Rule #4: Thou shalt observe Happy Hours. I did not know this term when I first moved here. Happy hour? Eh?

Ahem. What do overworked professionals need more than anything? A break, you might say. No no, young padowan. Overworked professionals need alcohol. 

"Happy hour" refers to special bar hours (usually 4:30 until 7 or so) that offer discounted drink prices. Cocktails, beer, wine...it's a great marketing scheme actually, because by the time happy hour rolls around, we (and the bar adverts) have convinced us that we DESERVE some libation. And nothing feels more cathartic than to get deservedly tipsy and complain about your job, right?

Right. Now if you'll excuse me, Irish Whiskey Public House is calling my name.

Pro-tips 3.0

1. If you can, budget for emergencies. You never know when, say, your car might turn into a smoke machine instead of a reliable form of transportation, or you might have to fly home at a moment's notice, or you get really sick and need powerful meds.

2. You WILL spill your coffee. You will. Just accept it.

3. Ladies: please do not shell out hundreds of bucks for high heels. Instead, keep checking back at places like Payless and Ross. I have three great pairs of heels, and I've paid about 60 bucks for all three pairs. Combined. Holla.

3a. Ancillary to the above, go buy this heel right now. I've been looking for it for 2 years: Black leather, not too high, not too pointed (unlike the witch heels that are so popular right now), extremely comfortable, 20 bucks. I think yes.

4. Email has a handy lil button called "Reply All." USE IT. Trying to arrange meetings or come to a consenus on an issue via email is really difficult when one person doesn't get all the details.

5. Conversely, sometimes you should NOT hit "Reply All." Use your imagination on that one.

6. When a military commander (or any other guest) stops by for an impromptu business meeting, do not leave your Google search of him up on the screen. Bad form.

7. Learn how to smoothly defuse awkward moments. Like the above.

After the natural disaster, a man-made one: Election 2012

I spent this electoral season in our nation's lovely capital - epicenter for the man-made disaster that has become our electoral process. Luckily, I don't own a TV, so I was relatively sheltered from the various attack ads trying to convince undecided voters which way to swing.

That does not mean, however, that I was sheltered from the campaigning.

I have several good friends on both sides of the aisle who are die-hards...subsequently, my Facebook feed looked something like this in the days prior to November 6:

"Knocking on doors in the good ole District Blah Blah! Let's turn it red!"
"Last chance to make a difference, America! Yes we CAN."
"If Obama wins, socialism wins. Seriously I'll move to Canada. Not even joking."
"Anyone who votes for Romney is voting for the 1% and hates minorities and gay rights. Weep for America."

And then there were others:
"Can't wait for this election season to be over. Gonna go stab myself in the eye now."
"Why can't we all just get along? I LOVE EVERYONE!"

I simultaneously agreed with and disagreed with all these statements. As an independent moderate, I can identify with portions of both the Democratic and Republican platforms. (I won't enumerate my political beliefs further here, if you're interested we can grab coffee sometime.) As a human being, I too am sick to death of assualt-by-soundbite and pointless blustering. However, I DO think it's counterproductive to alienate your friends with sharp, and sometimes bigoted, opinions on a social platform that isn't built for longer, open, rational discussion.

This pic, via Twitter, is from Election Night at Busboys
rather than a debate, but you get the idea.
Same type of crowd. 

That's why I appreciated going to the various Prez and VP debates. This town is a Mecca for political nerds, and almost every bar hosted their own watch parties. So I gathered my peeps and we clustered in places like Busboys and Poets - imagine not a seat open in the house, all eyes glued to the TV, loud comments from supporters and/or haters, stout beer and sweet potato fries, and laughter at various presidential missteps.
I can't imagine the bars back home would get this worked up over politics. Cat/Griz football, maybe, but politics, no.

I'm more a foreign policy buff than a domestic policy one, so I particularly enjoyed the last debate. For your amusement (and mine), a brief recollection of my favorite moments (from all the debates):

 

 

 

 

 

 

I won't lie, the Democrats seemed quicker on their feet (other than the first debate) and better able to connect to my generation via the media. Sorry, Mom. [Enter political rant about media bias here.]

 

When Election Day came, things seemed pretty quiet, at least to me. But then, I worked from home on purpose that day to avoid the frantic rushing about town. I cast my ballot quietly, and my precinct saw a minimum amount of drama.

 

However, the liquor store (maybe I should start calling it my "fine wine shop" since people seem to get the wrong idea when I say "liquor store") was the place for citizens to air their opinions. Democrats and Republicans streamed in by the dozens - and you could tell their mood based on what they bought. Champagne = we're gonna win. Vodka/whiskey/bourbon = we may lose, and if we do I'll need to drown my sorrows. Champagne AND liquor = I'm prepared for anything. Beer = general partying. Because why watch sober.

 

A few customers, who shall remain NAMELESS (because I legit don't know their names) strolled in like they owned the place, utterly confident of a win and utterly convinced that I needed to agree with them. Badgered me repeatedly about how their guy is obviously the only guy to vote for.

 

Yeah, like I'm gonna share my views with a boozed-up die-hard on Election Night. In a liquor store. 3 blocks away from the Capitol building.

 

Hey, I'm just the cashier. Do you want a bag with that?

How to prepare for a disaster

Most of you know by now that DC got off fairly light from Hurricane Sandy. New York and New Jersey weren't so lucky, and I'm still praying for recovery efforts there.

Hurricane Sandy was the first time I had the potential to be in a real natural disaster. Out in Montana we don't have much beyond forest fires or the occasional flood, and my home there is on high ground so floods wouldn't affect us anyway. Michigan occasionally gets tornadoes, but nothing serious ever happened while I was there.

As such, I had absolutely no experience upon which to draw for preparations for Hurricane Sandy. I should have read useful sites like this one, but alas. I did not.

Instead I went to the grocery store with a friend. We wandered vaguely around, picking up items and then putting them down again -- you need a stove to heat up canned soup, you need milk in order to eat cereal, you need a fridge to store pudding. None of those things work without power. I finally settled on some tins of canned fruit, along with some other odds n ends. For some reason I thought it'd be great to buy mango Jello. Post-hurricane treat?

Despite people tripping over themselves for it, I simply couldn't bring myself to buy water. For one thing, the price had been jacked up. For another, water seems like such a ridiculous thing to spend money on when you can get it, for free, right out of the tap.

A few girls in my college dorms bought bottled water because they said the tap water "tasted funny"...

Some families in developing countries walk for hours to get potable water; I wasn't gonna waste my limited college funds on bottled water because the tap water, while perfectly drinkable, "tasted funny."

Since my roomie was of the same opinion, we got creative.

We emptied out old cider jugs and filled those with tap water. Same with old honey jars. I happen to save the *cough cough* occasional wine bottle, so we filled a couple of those up to the brim. In all, we probably had at least 5 gallons of water. Ahem hem, WATER, not wine. And definitely not whiskey. Or bourbon. No beer either. In fact, there was no consumption of alcohol at all during the storm. None whatsoever.

I felt pretty proud of myself.

In the end, all the water wasn't necessary. Very few areas in the District lost power -- although we did have some pretty intense rain and wind (I was sure to park my car on a street with no huge trees; dealing with an insurance claim for weather damage would be just about the last straw with my car). 

I hope any of you reading this, if you were affected by the storm, are safe and sound.