Monday Funday

Monday really gets shat on. I mean, I doubt Monday ASKED to be the designated day of the week for going back to work or school. I doubt Monday WANTED to be the day that comes after our weekly “vacations.” Poor Monday. What did Monday ever do to you, other than be completely reliable about showing up RIGHT ON TIME, every week?

From here on out, I designate this day as Monday Funday. To celebrate this glorious day, let’s make a list (oh trusty lists, how I love you) of the good things about Monday. Because there is GOOD in everything, sometimes you just have to find it.

  • ”DIET STARTS MONDAY!”: This is a phrase I use often on the weekends. Mostly in jest, but there’s also a bit of truth in it. The point here is, Monday gives you a chance to “start over.” New week, new goals, new whatever. I guess you can start over on Tuesday or Friday if you want, but come on, that’s just silly. AND it’s scientifically* proven that holding off on that which you can do today (aka Tuesday-Sunday) until Monday is better for your health and for successful results. (*Maybe sorta not.)
  • Holidays: Mondays are our favorite day for holidays. Who doesn’t LOVE a Monday on Memorial Day or Labor Day? It’s really not fair to toy with Monday’s emotions like that — I love you, now I hate you. As a result, Monday is definitely the most insecure day of the week ever.
  • Google Reader Holy Grail: I’m quite the fan of Google Reader. Google Reader and I usually take a break over the weekend. (If not, you can bet I was procrastinating on cleaning out my drawers or scrubbing the toilet or some other task full of suckage.) Either way, Google Reader on Monday makes me giggle like a middle schooler girl who can’t wait to catch up on the weekend’s juicy gossip.
  • Weekend Recap: Monday is the perfect time to recap your weekend. What is it they say? “Don’t be sad because it’s over, SMILE BECAUSE IT HAPPENED!” Pretty sure that’s a direct quote from Gandhi.

So, cue me telling you what I did this weekend. I went on a bike ride from Georgetown to Mount Vernon (*see map for edited route and notes), which is a MUST DO in DC. It’s a great trail, with lots of beautiful sites. You can even stop near the edge of the Reagan Airport runway and give yourself clammy hands while watching planes take off (or land, depending on the wind, I think?) right over your head!!!

Unfortunately, I didn’t take any pictures (because I suck), except this one post-ride. Corona’s are just so photogenic, I couldn’t resist.


Here is some commentary on the ride:

You Know I Like Snack Pack, Why Can’t You Just Give Me a Snack Pack!

Walking by the snack table at work today, I curiously noticed the Keebler cracker packs seemed a little … different. On closer inspection, I realized why – there are now FOUR rows of crackers, i.e. TWO more crackers in each pack.

The most dumbfounding thing about the discovery was that Keebler has opted to call the larger packaged counterparts “Snack Pack.” THAT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE. Snacks are supposed to be SMALLER, not larger. How dare they try to mess with the hierarchy of meal sizes! 

And this is exactly what happens when Keebler pulls little stunts like the one above:

(FWIW, I’m not exploiting this boy – he’s a child actor and was in Bad Santa eating chocolate from an Advent calendar. So there.)

And for those who aren’t old school Billy Madison fans like myself and didn’t catch the blog title reference, here ya go: 

This Message Brought to You by Debbie Downer

I took this photo on a work trip to NYC last month. We had a meeting in 7 World Trade Center and this is was the view from the conference room. The sight alone brought a flood of emotions, but after yesterday’s news that Osama Bin Laden had been killed – the man responsible for this haunting landscape – somehow the image brings even greater meaning and reflection.
 
In the past 12 or so hours, I have felt a mix of many emotions. First, happiness and relief that the world’s most elusive terrorist had been killed — for a moment it was almost surreal. But then shortly thereafter a sense of reality and sort of pessimism came over me as I watched the images of celebration. I couldn’t help but wonder what exactly this occasion stood for and ask myself the question of “Now what?” One man is dead but what does that mean for progress in the war against terror? What does that mean for the overall status of unrest in the Middle East? And selfishly, what does that mean for OUR country and the problems we have HERE?
 
I will only briefly mention that I couldn’t share the elation of those outside the White House (in fact, the scene made me a little uncomfortable) or the anger I felt against those who immediately turned the event political, spouting partisan rants. I am continually disillusioned with the two-party system and the us vs. them mentality of our country and our leaders. Will it ever end?

All that aside, I strongly believe this will be an amazing sense of justice and closure for the families affected by 9/11 and that brings me great comfort. I also feel immense pride for the courageous people who saw this mission through, as well as all the brave men and women of our armed forces who on a daily basis sacrifice their safety to ensure ours’. For that I am eternally thankful. Today, these are the people who deserve to celebrate.

There is no doubt in my mind that Osama Bin Laden was an evil piece of rat doo-doo who stood for hateful ideologies and he got what he had coming for him. But I can only hope that the hearts and minds of Americans are in the right place and that we use this milestone not to glorify death but to commemorate and honor all the lives tragically lost at the hands of terrorism.

(In other news, did you know that feline AIDS is the number one killer of domestic cats? WOMP, WOMP!!!)

Why I Should Be Invited to the Royal Wedding

I’ve asked my boyfriend Matt a variety of questions over the past few months.
 
When is the invitation coming?
Did the invitation come yet?
Why hasn’t the invitation come?
Are you hiding it from me?
Does Will not have your address?
Do you think the postman sold the invitation on eBay?
And finally, why are we not invited?!
 
Why would I ever feel the need to ask these questions? Well, here are the facts:

  • Matt had a class with William Wales aka Prince William when he attended St. Andrews for a semester in 2005. The Evolution of Scottish Geography with Professor Cundill, to be precise.
  • William gave a presentation on the Isle of Rhum.
  • Matt sat right behind him during the last final of the prince’s college (“university”) career.
  • He witnessed “Wills” being doused with champagne by his mates, as apparently that is some sort of custom for 4th years. (This is what they call seniors on the other side of the pond. It’s not just something JK Rowling made up for Hogwarts.)
  • One time Matt saw him leaving the student center pissed and stumbling about. (Pissed = drunk).

All these are perfectly good reasons as to why we should be invited to the wedding, don’t you think?

I guess since Matt couldn’t become best mates forever with the future King of England I will have to take matters into my own hands:

WTF WSC

I’m a member of Washington Sports Club and frequent the Glover Park location. I could write a very long diatribe about how it is probably the worst sweat box in existence, but for now, let’s just focus on one thing they totally fail at – class descriptions.

I went on the website today to check out the group exercise schedule because I knew it had changed. I’m a fan of the bootcamp class which is normally Thursday mornings but has changed to Wednesday so I figured there might be other adjustments as well. Well, I was pleasantly surprised to see another class added for Thursday evenings called Ultimate Conditioning. The title sounded right up my alley so of course I wondered what the class entails!!! Apparently, this:

Ultimate Conditioning
Get the results of a personal training session in a group setting in this high-intensity conditioning class, led by both a group exercise instructor and a personal trainer. Get the results of a personal training session in a group setting in this high-intensity conditioning class, led by both a group exercise instructor and a personal trainer. Get the results of a personal training session in a group setting in this high-intensity conditioning class, led by both a group exercise instructor and a personal trainer. Get the results of a personal training session in a group setting in this high-intensity conditioning class, led by both a group exercise instructor and a personal trainer. Get the results of a personal training session in a group setting in this high-intensity conditioning class, le
d by both a group exercise intructor and a personal trainor.

HUH? Say again. Is this class led by both a group exercise instructor and a personal trainer? Or is it what that last part says, led by an “intructor and a personal trainor?” I’m not sure I got the gist of it. Also, was this written on 4/20? Be honest.

Next up, Martial Arts Conditioning:

Martial Arts Conditioning
Martial Arts Conditioning

Really? Enlightenment, I no has it.

OK, so maybe all the other ones pass muster, but I felt it worth ragging on the gym thats ratio of members to treadmills is COMPLETELY INADEQUATE and OFFENSIVE. That’s all. 

Paulene Doesn’t Give a What About Oil

Meet Paulene. (No, not Pauline, Paulene.) Paulene was born last night while eating a brownie and listening to my boyfriend and stepdad talk about oil. As you can see at the end of the video, they caught Paulene on her soap box.

PS – Pardon the curse. Tried bleeping it out but I don’t have any good video editing tools. Oh well, I was clearly very serious about being in character because that’s also a Miller Lite I’m drinking.

Winnie the Pooh

Oh, Winnie the Pooh. I love you and all your half-naked gloriousness. I love your old, familiar voice, as pleasant as your cherished honey. I love that you are always hungry, just like me. I love Christopher Robbin’s English accent. I love that the wonderful thing about Tiggers is Tiggers are wonderful things!!! I love Eeyore’s pessimism and Piglet’s quest to be brave.

But most of all, I love timeless classics that teach us enduring lessons about life and friendship – lessons that we will carry with us forever and pass down generation after generation.

The Dryer Ate My Knickers

Ah, what the heck.

I’ve toyed with the idea of starting a blog for awhile. For a variety of reasons — all of which I’m certain have all been claimed as the impetus for many a blogs, past, present and future. I’ve compiled my reasons into a list because lists are awesome and favored by all lazy writers and readers the world across!!!

  • I can use a blog as a diary[-ah] of my life [mouth] that I can look back on [cringe at].
  • I genuinely enjoy writing. That is, when I actually force myself to do it. I’m sure many of you have also figured out that one of the most challenging things in life is STARTING. (Right up there with FINISHING, of course.)
  • I have opinions. Some are strong, but most not so much. Many are probably contradictory. Truth is, I actually think of myself as quite indecisive and easily influenced. But I do ponder the idioms of life often and who knows, maybe I can use this “platform” to figure out what the heck is really going on up there. Hopefully it’s more than just 8ish* lbs. of gray matter. (*Jonathan Lipnicki told us the human head weights 8 lbs but that probably includes other features, like eye balls and teeth, so 8 is really just a rough, pop culture estimate.)
  • I have stories and enjoy telling them. Some involve a vampire disguised as a bat in a basement. Others involve a splinter in an ass cheek (not mine) at Hershey Park. I mean, if one of those mentions didn’t make you add this URL to your Google Reader, well then here’s a picture of cocktail wieners – you’re mine now!

  • I need to take more pictures. This is a serious issue. I’m the worst picture-taker ever. The only thing I currently take pictures of is my dog sleeping. Not kidding, I probably have 50 pictures ONLY of my dog sleeping – all on my phone. If I lost my phone and someone found it, they might think I WAS my dog and that he’s one of those self-portrait-loving MySpace users.
  • I read a lot of blogs. I regularly try workout ideas from health blogs or bookmark recipes from food blogs. It makes me feel like I just take, take, take and never give back. So this is a dedication to all those before me who inspired me to “PAY IT FORWARD.” Unfortunately, I highly doubt I will ever provide anything useful here, like a workout or a recipe. Maybe a semi-handy piece of advice on the best way to eat peanut butter M&Ms. (200 at once, FWIW.)

That’s pretty much the long and short of it right there. But I’m sure you are wondering: what on that list REALLY made me start my blog? Which was the deciding factor that tipped the tipping point and put the finger pads to the key pads? Ready for it?

NONE OF THEM. IT WAS THIS:

(Photo courtesy of Ashley Taylor’s BlackBerry)

What in the hell is that, you ask? THAT, my friends, IS A REAL-LIFE EXAMPLE OF A SOCK-EATING DRYER. And underwear-eating. Mostly underwear, actually.

The story goes, my roommate and I have a quirky dryer. It can be sorta loud, sometimes it mysteriously leaves black marks on our clothes and is just generally not the best dryer friend a couple twentysomething gals could ask for. But it “ironed” our shirts and tightened our jeans when we needed it to, so we remained an averagely happy, occasionally frustrated, family. And yes, we would lose a sock here or there but who doesn’t? It was always blamed on one of our thieving dogs, clothing temporarily displaced to be found later in an under-the-bed canine lair.

Well, one morning “quirky dryer” became “smells-like-smoke dryer” that didn’t actually DRY (or iron and tighten). Dryer mechanic man was called and the aforementioned photo was the result. (FYI, my roommate, Ashley, took the picture – not dryer mechanic man. That would have been a WHOLE ‘NOTHER story in itself.)

Let’s break down the findings.

The dryer mechanic laughed and said he’d never seen a dryer with that many clothes inside it. I’m contemplating calling the Guinness Book of World Records because this just might be my “in”, if you know what I mean.

Moral of the story. DRYERS CAN EAT YOUR SOCKS. AND THEY WILL. Especially if you have a broken rotater belt-thingy and you are two girls who know nothing about the mechanics of dryers.

Second moral of the world premiere blog entry. Clearly, I find inspiration in odd places. When this happened, I had the strongest urge to TELL people. (Even though it involved showing off my undergarments.) Bottom line, events like this just deserve to be chronicled.

Hopefully you will appreciate my weird stories, random happenings, nonsensical ramblings. I have faith we can all share a laugh or two, probably at my expense, maybe at your’s. Who really knows. All I know is that I always hated writing conclusions to papers. CLEARLY BLOGGING IS NO DIFFERENT, aka The End.