The Snark DC

The Great Move

2008-05-04T17:04:00.006-04:00

I am proud to announce that THIS:

Is my new blog! I was trying to change the name of this particular blog, but since I'm retarded and only know how to type on here, and make things bold and such, I've decided just to link you all to the new blog instead. And just so you can see it, this is the URL: http://lacelebutard.blogspot.com

I decided to go with LA Celebutard because it really embodies everything about my life right now. I'm moving to LA, I'm obsessed with celebutards, and if you think about it, the LA is also la, which is French, so it would be the Celebutard, which could mean me as well (if I'm feeling particularly egotistical on any given day) and really, everything's classier when French is involved. Ne c'est pas?

Name Competition!

2008-04-30T12:24:00.003-04:00

Hello, brave warriors! My drugs are kicking in, and I am feeling extrodinarily calm and productive (is that an oxymoron?) and I realized I need to make some changes around here.

Beside scooping out my uterus with an ice cream scoop and throwing it at my doctor.

I need a new name for my blog! As... lovely as The Snark DC is, there are various problems with said name:

1) I don't like "The Snark" anymore (and didn't really like it much to begin with) and,
2) I happen to be moving from DC to LA, so DC isn't particularly relevant after May 16th-ish

So here are some possible names, and please feel free to contribute via comments or email! If it wasn't for all you loyal readers, well, then I'd just be bitching to empty cyberspace about uteri and my drinking problem. (And have no fear - even if it's something like TheOnomatopoeiaLA, you won't have to remember it - thanks to the wonder that is Blogger, if you keep on typing in thesnarkdc.blogspot.com, it'll just redirect you. Lovely!)

- TheSnarkLA (easy to remember)
- LACelebutard (this is great because it's LA as in Los Angeles, or La as in "the" - get it?? two birds, one pun)
- LAChelsea (see above, but with my own name instead of "celebutard")
- WestCoastSnark (that sounds too much like West Coast Video I think)
- WestCoastChels
- ChelseaInLA
- Whatever the hell else you can think of, because now the drugs are starting to make concentrating a little difficult

Remember, kids, the sky's the limit! Or something.

Murphy's Law

2008-04-30T11:32:00.004-04:00

Murphy's Law states: "Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong," and I really feel like that is the perfect summation of my existance.

Sure, sometimes I luck into things, but when it comes to health-related issues, it's just one big barrel of What The Fuck. Take Lupron Round 2, for example:

I put in the prescription for my Lupron injection nearly 2 weeks ago, knowing that I needed to get the shot somewhere between 2 weeks and a week-and-a-half before the prior Lupron dosage ran out. Which means I need it by next Friday. So of course the insurance company dicks me around for days and days, and I'm not actually able to have it mailed to me until yesterday. Which is okay, because as of today, it's about a week-and-a-half before the shot runs out. So I'm thinking "well, at least I have it now!"

Which of course means that this morning I wake up, feel terrible, and - whoops! - get my period. Nearly 10 days before the shot runs out. Which, might I add, is nearly impossible, seeing as the shots surpress ovulation so that I do not get my periods. Medical marvel, or freak of nature? You decide.

Now you may be wondering, "why is this such a bad thing? Besides the whole bleeding and PMS-craziness factors?" Well, loyal readers who enjoy TMI, it's a bad thing because when I ovulate and my happy little egg gets pushed out, endometrial tissue from my uterus sheds inward, rather than outward with all the other delightful gunk that constitutes a period, and then it likes to float around in my abdomen and attach itself to nerve endings, which is why I'm always in pain. Fabulous!

So no periods = no endomerial tissue = no pain. But of course I got my period - directly after having surgery. The whole point of having surgery and then being on Lupron continuously is to make sure periods do NOT happen, so that I have no more pain. Course we're not even sure now if the surgery was a success, and now I'm going and sloughing my innards all over the place, so I think it's safe to say that I am not a happy camper right now.

Well, I'm in quite a bit of agony, but I took a happy pill I had left over from the last time I was hospitalized, so I don't... care. It's a bizarre feeling. By this point I should be bawling and throwing whatever's handy, but right now all I want to do is eat chocolate and sit in a dirty little heap. Course then I'll get fat, and since I can't work out I can't eat and sit on my ass, especially since I'm supposed to be getting back into modeling. Ah, nothing says "beautiful young woman" like a bleeding, menopausing, hunched over freak of a girl.

Fabulous.

Announcements!

2008-04-29T16:03:00.006-04:00

Hi hi hi!

Sorry everyone, I know I've been MIA, and several people have been wondering where I've been, but I promise I'm alive and well, and everything is moving along quite nicely!

I am, very happily, no longer working for my previous employer, which is why I haven't been online during the day. I was going to try to tough it out for a few weeks longer, but there comes a point in one's life where you realize you just can't take it anymore. As much as I enjoyed wasting my life away, well... it was time to start living my life, rather than thinking up imaginative ways to end it.

So I can finally announce: I am officially moving to Los Angeles in June! I've held off announcing it while I was still in the office, seeing as they probably wouldn't have appreciated me broadcasting that fact before telling them I was outta there, but now there's nothing holding me back from migrating west. Not even being broke.

Fuck the cold - palm trees, here I come!

I'm signing with a modeling agency out there (and I'll have more info on that after I finally meet with them face-to-face), and I'll spend my days living the Young American Dream - modeling, waiting tables, and rubbing elbows with every "I'm totally an up-and-coming star!" out there. It's going to be amazing. Jim and I will be building a little love nest of our very own, and we're planning on stalking various celebrities, especially Matthew McConaughey, because A) the dude lives in a trailer on the beach, it's not like he's hard to fine, and B) one of my goals in life is to smoke weed and play the bongo naked with him in a public place; it's just not negotiable.

I'm hoping it'll be something like college: sleep till noon, drink, get some work done, drink, eat some food, go out for the night, drink, etc. (because a life behind a desk, doing nothing, is not for me - a life in which I'm perpetually 20 is) just with Paris Hilton, or something. We're settling in West Hollywood, so it's not like it's out of the question - all the hot young people are there. And while, okay, we might not be living beside them, we'll at least be living beside the gas station they go to. Whatever works!

I'll be in DC for the next 2 weeks, packing and getting ready to go, then I'll be back in Boston for 2 more weeks, to say goodbye to my family and everyone else up there. If you need me, shoot me an email, because my internet appearances will be spotty at best. But, once I'm in LA, I'll actually be purchasing internet (unlike here, in which I steal it from Erin or my neighbors) so I'll be around. Hooray!

Celebrations Are In Order!

2008-04-25T11:42:00.004-04:00

I'M FREE!!!!!!

California, here I come!

When in Rome: Don't Do as the Models Do

2008-04-24T10:45:00.008-04:00

Oh GOD, this week's ANTM episode! Could it get any better than this?? But before I start really gushing, let me point out a few facts:

1. Anya is the best thing to ever happen, not only to me personally, but to all American viewers
2. Katarzyna makes me question my sexual orientation
3. Lauren is legit a zombie
4. The final three will be Anya, Katarzyna, and Fatima

Okay, now that that's out of the way, let's get started!

So the girls are in Rome, and we open with one of the best scenes in Top Model history. Right after Anya confuses "rolling" with "rowing", as the girls are stepping out of the bus at the Colosseum, Anya fucking faceplants. Like, swan dives right off the stairs and splats onto the stone street. They cut to her in the confessional, and she just grins, saying:

"My first step in Rome, and I eat it on the ground!"

"I eat it!"

"But no brain, no pain!"

And that was when I fell in love with Anya. Which, upon reflection, was perfect timing. A solid 80% of the episode was dedicated solely to Anya and her ridiculous, but heartwarming, observations on herself and her fellow contestants. And I actually wanted to hug her when she was bringing food to Fatima and refusing to join in on the bashing that the rest of the girls were enjoying. Not a fountain of drama, but hey, the girl's likable. She does seem slightly mentally retarded, but she's so genuine, and (even with those platinum eyebrows) she really looks like a model. I was in rapture when it was pointed out that Anya is young and fresh and very modelesque, while Dominique was old and gross and the very definition of "used up." Okay, they didn't use that term, but hell they fucking implied it.

This picture pisses me off because it shows the standard Dominique get-up: a matronly, hideous and bulky sweater (I'm shocked there haven't been prancing animals on any of them yet, or kittens chasing balls of yarn), unwashed, greasy hair that keeps sticking up like alien antennas, and a hideous, open mouthed (tooth lacking) smile that threatens to suck your soul right out of your body. Oh, and she does indeed look around 150 years old - probably because she's a thousand year old succubus.

So, moving on, Anya wins the challenge (yet again) while Lauren proves that she's still a lurching, brain eating zombie (yet again.) It's sad too, because you can see by her walk that she has improved since the beginning, yet she still jerks and stomps like she has no control whatsoever over her dead, stiff carcass. Coincidence? I think not.

We continue on, and the girls discover that instead of a photo shoot this week, they'll be shooting Cover Girl commercials. In Italian. Oh, the horror. These commercial shoots are always painful enough when performed in English, given that none of the girls can actually act (and the ones that think they can act, are so over the top and horrible that they make Whitney look downright demure and humble), so you can only imagine how hilariously bad they are in Italian. Fatima and Katarzyna got it down fairly impressively, while the others drowned in a pool of their own inability. Lauren in particular - shockingly! - was absolutely horrific. Talk about a deer in the headlights - she was just waiting for a bullet between the eyes to take her out of her misery. I'm very disappointed that no one actually did that.

Grimacing on camera, mid-shoot? Or chomping for brains? You decide.

I knew that she was going home at that point - not only had she proven she was still shockingly inept at walking, she also showed that she's incapable of interacting with people, she's incapable of following directions, and she's incapable of maintaining a pulse. The odds were against her.

So, panel. Oh, panel - this week, the gods truly smiled down upon me.

First of all, my girl Katarzyna knows she needs to bring some... something, to the table, so she acts perkier than usual and shows the judges that she won't let herself get lost in the crowd. And she calls Tyra out on once again mangling her name, and does so not once, but twice - twice! Tyra seemed suitably pissed in her own "how dare any girl upstage me and point out how fucking stupid I am, even when everyone watching already knows!" kind of way, but it was fabulous. I love you, Katarzyna. No, I'm not kidding, seriously - are you single?

Second, the judges pull out the "Hot Tranny Mess" card again for good old (literally and figuratively) Dominique. Even Miss-freaking-J of all people admits, "I still think that she's a BROTHER!" Truer words have never been spoken; even if they did come out of the mouth of a man with rainbow glitter eyebrows.

Seriously, even my mother's kindergartners know better than to shove their faces in the glue tubes during art time. But that's neither here nor there. The pressing issue at hand is just how manly Dominique is. After surfing the internets, I found some amazing pictures of Dominique pre-ANTM, which really showcase just how much of a dude she really is. Granted, they're not crotch shots, but I think these speak for themselves:

I've got three words for you:

HOT. TRANNY. MESS.

I've never seen anything like it before. Although, please note that the "Hot" part is only applicable when she's made up to showcase her... uh, strong attributes. She instantly reverts back to "Octogenarian Tranny Mess" at the first sign of eye makeup remover.

I don't understand how no one's pointed out that men aren't allowed in the competition, but it's not like they've never "tweaked" the rules in the past (like letting in Eva , whos 5'6", and letting Saleisha win after she was in nationwide commercials and, you know, had appeared on the Tyra fucking Banks Show.) Whatever gets the best ratings, I suppose.

So Fatima gets first call out (which I think was only because Tyra was pissed at Katarzyna for pointing out what a stupid, ignorant idiot she is), followed by Katarzyna and Anya. I'm 99.999% sure that they're going to be the Final 3, because Dominique is too busted, Whitney is living on borrowed time, and Lauren, well, I'm getting ahead of myself here.

So Dominique, unfortunately, gets the next call out, although it makes sense because at least she was "energetic" (if that's the word you want to choose) during her shoot. Whitney, on the other hand, was so ridiculously fake and sugary that it made your teeth ache, and Lauren was Lurch, so they were the bottom two. I was afraid Tyra was going to boot Whitney out, because A) no plus sized model has ever made it this far at ALL, and B) she is the plus sized model, and ANTM is well known for kicking their asses out without reason, but, like I said - the gods were smiling down on me!

LAUREN WENT HOME! Thank god! It was the FIRST time the panel actually showed real judgment and discretion during voting. They could've stuck with their "we make no sense and we prove this show has no credibility!" pattern and sent Whitney packing, but for once they got their shit together and sent the right girl home. Maybe the glue fumes from J's eyebrows are getting to everyone.

So Lurch goes home, Whitney is force fed some humble pie, and the world is happy again. Until next week, that is.

The Beauty of Amy Whinehouse

2008-04-23T11:17:00.005-04:00

Today I find myself absolutely speechless.

It's not like I don't have a barrage of witty things waiting to come tumbling right out of my mouth (or is it my fingers, if I'm typing?) - but because I was just made witness to these pictures of the ever stunning Amy Winehouse. Seriously, you need to see these. Now.

It's like all of the horrible British stereotypes rolled into one terrifying ball of fury:

Horrific Teeth? Check!
Absolutely Smashed? Check!
Shockingly Unattractive Woman? Check!
Wasted Rocker Potential? Check and Check!

All "Rehab" jokes aside (no, no, no!) Amy Winehouse is a one-woman boozing demolition team. It's shocking that someone who weighs roughly 15 pounds soaking wet can consume so much alcohol on a daily basis and still keep on breathing. I'm starting to think her blood is actually just a constant stream of Jack Daniels - it would really explain everything.

To give her some credit, she has an amazing voice and her music is great. Unfortunately, she's turned herself into some kind of living zombie, and seems entirely unable to actually function as a member of society. Even the dirty, disgusting, disease riddled pigeons in the city gutters are more appealing at this point than she is.

I can't wait to see pictures from tonight's escapades!

And here's one more picture for your enjoyment - it's small, but packs a punch.

Tornados, Typhoons, and The Spy Museum

2008-04-21T09:21:00.005-04:00

Do you know what the best part about waking up bright and (ridiculously) early on a Monday morning is?

To see that it's downpouring outside! Hurrah! Just when I thought things couldn't get any better! I trudged to work with my dress pants tucked jauntily into my galoshes, pretending like I couldn't feel the rain soaking all of my clothing (despite hiding beneath my umbrella.) I don't mind the rain if I can hide away in my apartment and watch scary movies or something, but actually having to get up and go somewhere in the rain makes me one hell of a cranky bitch.

My sentiments exactly

DC is just running the whole weather gambit lately. Friday and Saturday were hot and sunny, and we clocked in around 85 degrees; Sunday it downpoured again and the weather dropped into the mid-60's. Last night there was not only a fucking tornado watch, there was also a fucking tornado somewhere outside the city. I couldn't figure out where it was, because every time the news said it this morning, I was gargling or in the other room or eating my cereal (it's very loud to chew it, really) but still. And today is 60 and pouring. Tomorrow? The same. Then back up to the mid-70s. Talk about a pain in my ass.

On a lighter note, however, Erin bought me tickets to - drumroll, please! - the SPY MUSEUM for my birthday!!! I've been dying to go ever since I first came to DC, and never actually managed it in the four entire years I was here for college. I blame it on the booze.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anyway, it was amazing! First we went in and did the Operation Spy simulation, in which Erin and I proved that while we're arse at surveillance, and totally would fail out of it during CIA training, we had the best intuition of the group; if only they'd trusted us and not Topaz! If we'd had our way, we would've saved the Trigger and made sure that nuclear warfare stayed out of the hands of the Kandhar Black Ops group. Damn you, tourists!

Then we spent 2 or so hours wandering around the museum, where we learned all sorts of fascinating tidbits about spies, especially during the major wars. We learned that Aldrich Ames was willing to sell his country out for only 2.7 million dollars (seriously, I know it was like 1985, but that is still not enough money to sell out your role as head of the fucking CIA to work for the KGB of all people!) and learned that in the 50's, even after celebrating the amazing achievements of a spy that helped crack the Nazi codes during WWII, one brave man was driven to suicide because - oops! - he was a homosexual and even though he saved the Allies' asses, they wanted to torture him with humiliating hormonal treatments because, you know, homosexuality was a crime. Ah yes, that makes perfect sense. I love the government.

Also, there was an exhibit on Ninjas!!!!

After wards, we hit up the gift shop, and I got myself yet another shot glass to add to my collection, while Erin rapturously delved into the hundreds of books about spies, historical plots, and all the other things that set her little heard a-patter. All-in-all, downpour aside, it was a fabulous day. Oh, and we have pictures somewhere of me attempting to crawl through an air duct... I'm still debating over whether or not to post them. Flattering, they are not, but they're quite amusing. Perhaps next time.

Hurrah for Warm Weather

2008-04-18T09:33:00.002-04:00

It's going to be 85 DEGREES today! 85! That's summer weather!

BRB going on 50 coffee runs today so I can enjoy the sun.

(PS that's all I have today - it's a Friday so I'm brain dead. See you on Monday!)

America's Next Top "Reality" Show

2008-04-17T10:36:00.004-04:00

Now, we all know that no Reality Show can escape the wrath of their particular producers and editors. Due to the sheer amount of taped footage amassed per day, we know that someone has to sit there and sift through all boring crap to get to the juicy stuff. We know that shows are angled in order to make them more interesting to viewers, and we take it all with a grain of salt, hoping that at least some of it actually comes out the way the people on-screen intended it to.

And then there's America's Next Top Model.

This particular episode featured a "we're not quite sure who's to blame" Catch 22 situation, in which our darling Fatima had to get her travel papers from the Consulate in order to travel oversees (as she's a refugee and not an American citizen), but she also had to be in the photoshoot. But! If she was in the shoot she couldn't get her papers, so it wouldn't matter if she won or not as she wouldn't be able to go abroad, but if she was in the shot and granted admission oversees, then she wouldn't have her papers so couldn't go anyway.

Still with me?

Obviously we all knew that the producers were aware of the issue ahead of time (and one of the FIRST questions they must've asked was "do you have proper travel documentation?" and of course they would've worked with her immediately to procure said documentation once she made it on the show) as some nameless, faceless producer was on the phone with Fatima several times in the episode. And of course Tyra & Co. (including the Great Frosted One himself, Jay Alexander - J Alexander? Which one's J and which one's Jay?) knew exactly where Fatima was and what she was doing. And, obviously, they planned this all for this episode because - surprise! - it was the episode in which they found out they were going abroad.

Okay so. There's an hour of absolute needless panic on Fatima's part, and Tyra enjoyed being a massive bitch a little too much, constantly berating Fatima for missing the shoot, despite being fully aware of where she had been. So by this point, everyone watching the episode with me was throwing their hands up in exasperation. Okay, we get it! You're doing this for ratings, you want people to feel the pressure, but the cat's out of the bag and now we want to kill you all! Everyone knows that Fatima will be going abroad no matter what, otherwise they never would've spent nearly 45 minutes following her plight. And we all know Stacy Ann is doomed, because seriously, could they be anymore obvious?

And then there's the whole issue of the shoot itself. We're lead to believe that the girls take their pictures, then trot right into panel (all of 30 seconds later) for their weekly judging. Except that the judges have already gone through ALL of the pictures, and photoshopped together some monstrosity supposedly showcasing all the girls' best pictures. Okay, we may be loyal ANTM watchers, but we're not that stupid. Stop offending our brain power - we get it.

Anyway, here's this week's hot mess of a photo shoot:

Aaaand that's it. Even CWtv.com couldn't muster up enough enthusiasm to get a picture we could actually see. If you can't tell (because you can't, unless you have a magnifying glass) here's the order of the girls, from left-to-right:

Lauren: Seriously, I don't get it; she nearly cuts her finger off and is fine, yet someone messes with the coffee and she almost has an aneurysm - what is this crazy bitch's deal? And can someone tell me why she photographs so amazingly, and yet can't even talk two damn feet in high heels?? How is it possible to be that glamorous and graceful in pictures, and yet in person be the long lost humanoid relative of Big Foot?

Stacy Ann: Aww, Stacy Ann. Even though they showed her entire portfolio and revealed that she only had one look the entire time (okay well this week she made a new face, but it resembled an Ostrich attempting to eat Whitney's face) and even though they made it very clear from the get go that her ass was grass, I still felt for her. She's just so... bubbly. To put it nicely. And seriously, who the fuck sends home Stacy Ann, but keeps Dominique?? Especially seeing how they showcased her MISSING FUCKING TOOTH like 10 times! What happened to the days of Joanie, in which a slight snaggle tooth resulted in super expensive veneers??

Whitney: Now, I adored Whitney at first, but it turns out that she's kind of a massive stuck up bitch. I realize that some of her 'tude is from her own insecurities (she is the only plus size model to have made it this far in the show, and she knows how hard a struggle it's been) but come on - she's doing wonderfully, there's no need to be such a raging cunt. It's very unbecoming. And for once, Tyra's right - she needs to lose that pageant act, and fast.

Anya: Anya! Oh my god! Okay at first I was like "wtf" about her, because even though I found her endearing (like a more mentally challenged version of Natasha), the accent and the general air of "fucking stupid" was really getting to me. Now, however, I realized that she's super sweet (despite being, you know, super dense) and girl! can she take a picture! She and Katarzyna were really the only ones that embodied the feel of this shoot, and Anya was the one to really rock the whole episode. Sure, at the 7Up party people seemed cheerfully perplexed by her, but she was comfortable and chatty and warmed up to everyone. And - shocker!! - did you guys see her 7Up ad?? Gorgeous! I was so shocked! She deserved that big 'ole check at the end of it, because she looked absolutely amazing. Maybe she'll join the ranks of the other ANTM girls (all 2 of them) that are actually getting work.

Dominique: Who let Bert the Pilot into the shoot?? Oh wait, that's not a hideously ugly 40-year old man, that's just Dominique! With that missing, rotted stump of a tooth, the horrifyingly greasy, unwashed hair, and a face that looks like it was slammed repeatedly into a concrete wall, Dominique proves yet again that Tyra is a complete fucking moron, as she's been allowed to head over to Rome. While Stacy Ann - who is never confused for a man - is sent packing, our tranny mess is going abroad. There is something very wrong here.

And last, but certainly not least,

Katarzyna: If I ever woke up one morning and decided that I was attracted to women, Katarzyna sure as hell better make sure she keeps all her doors and windows locked - otherwise I'll be crawling right in there and attempting to seduce her with my patented, tried-and-true seduction technique. I won't spill all my secrets, but it does involve Barry White, chocolate sauce, and spandex. Enough said.

Sex aside, Katarzyna is my absolute favorite because not only is she gorgeous, and not only does she consistently rock both the shoots and the runway, but she's also sane. I don't think we've ever had a sane person on the show before, so it's like accidentally finding a Marc Jacobs bag in the racks at WalMart. She did a fabulous job this week, and I was shocked that she wasn't called second. Sometimes I want to throttle Tyra, but at least she finally called my girl Kat, and all was right in the world. Besides, you know, Dominique showing her ugly face all over in the background. Here's to hoping she "accidentally disappears" in Rome.

And, next week - benvenuto a Roma!

The Pope Has Landed

2008-04-16T09:15:00.006-04:00

So the Pope's in town, and apparently this is some kind of big deal, but to be honest I don't get it. It could be because I'm Jewish, or because I know nothing about Catholicism (is that even the right sect? are they even called sects?) or because I have no soul, but I can't be too sure.

I mean okay, so the Pope is the central figure of the Catholic Church, but haven't we progressed a little since the heyday of... oh, I don't know, the 1500's? The guy's like 90, and he's the head out an outdated, hate-propelling institution that seeks to force it's ideals and practices on anyone who's been "saved" and sees the ways of God and Jesus. That and I'm pretty sure he can shoot fireballs out of his hand, and kill people with his brain.

Now, to be fair, I believe myself to be tolerant of any religion, and of anyone's desire to practice as they please. In the same way that I don't want someone cramming religion down my throat, I in turn don't want to try to talk someone out of their own beliefs - to each their own. But with the current administration in the White House, and all of this ridiculous religious BS being crammed down our throats lately, I hardly want to play nice with a man that embodies that ultra conservative group that says women shouldn't be able to have abortions, that gays shouldn't be married, that Islam is inherently wrong, that sex-ed shouldn't be taught to children, etc etc. It's one thing to feel that way privately (though it still makes you an asshole) but it's quite another to make sweeping, stupid generalizations and try to force others to bend to your will. Gimme a break.

Other people, however, love the Pope and all he stands for. Apparently they think he's the new Elvis, the way people have been clamoring over barriers and shrieking with joy whenever he passes. Now, I understand why people do that with rock stars and such - there's always a 50/50 chance you'll be pulled out of the crowd and treated to a night of cocaine and sweaty, dirty sex - but something tells me that the Pope isn't one to pick up groupies for a drug fueled sex romp. Although he does drive a - wait for it! - Popemobile (says Wikipedia) which seems only steps away from a Pimpmobile.

Now that is a scandal I'd love to see - can you imagine the headlines?

Pope Benedict Involved in Illegal Prostitution and Drug Ring!

Amazing. Much better than those pesky Catholic Priest Gets Caught Diddling Group of 14-year-old Boys! headlines that seemed never ending a few years back. And maybe then the Pope would really deserve all the fascinated attention he gets. And hey, if he's banging prostitutes and snorting coke, at least the guy's having a good time. Although the Catholic Church will never condone the use of condoms, so he'll probably get something nasty, and then we'll need a new Pope. Well, this guy's only got a few years left in him anyway, so maybe it's for the best. C'est la vie.

The Order of the Hippo

2008-04-15T09:46:00.006-04:00

Now, it's common knowledge that GW - oh, excuse me, The George Washington University - is a very pretentious institution. The school has spent the last several years preening, much as a male peacock would, and working as hard as they can to tell everyone in the higher education world that they're absolutely the best. So what if we're not Ivy League? Fuck the Ivies, we're like the younger, hipper, cooler version of them. Just ask anyone who works for the school.

Going to GW, you just sort of accept the whole thing. People will tear your face off if you dare to say that Georgetown might be a better school, yet when you make fun of American, people are all too willing to trip over themselves in an effort to crow about how much better we are. Competition is fierce, although I'm not entirely sure who we're competing against, as I don't think other schools realize just how rabid GW is about climbing the ranks (both on the US World News Rankings, and the "we're just flat out better than you in reputation" rankings.)

It's all very embarrassingly "Nouveau Riche" - like the awkward Californian dot-com millionaire who decides to declare himself a Boston Brahman. Sure, you have the money to play with the big boys, but your breeding is decidedly lower class (think: gardner's bastard, rather than the true heir of 300 years of exclusive blue blood breeding.) People just sort of... accept you without accepting you. And you never look quite right in those plaid beach shorts.

It's not easy being WASPy

So then it comes as no surprise that GW is not only cavorting around with it's very own "secret society" but is purposely being ridiculously obtuse about the whole thing, and is "accidentally" bringing the society to light (repeatedly) while denying it fervently, knowing full well that obviously people will realize it exists, and will believe it to be some kind of powerful, influential secret movement, comprised solely of tomorrow's Senators and Presidents. They want to pretend like they're an Ivy, just the more up-to-date younger brother version of it.

Most unfortunately, it is called The Order of the Hippo. And it's based on this hideous monstrosity (which, might I add, was a piece of absolute junk that our former president, Trachtenberg, picked up when shit faced one night, and only "donated" it to the school when his wife threatened to kick him out if he didn't get it the fuck out of their house - charming!) :

The Hatchet, GW's school paper, recently published a story about the 12th Order of the Hippo induction (for a secret society, they're awfully easy to find information on.) Here are some highlights, in bold, to show the absurdity (and pomposity) of the situation:

Students, alumni and administrators donned gowns, tuxedos and gold hippo pins Friday night in celebration of a pseudo-secret society's 12th annual induction dinner, which was held at the Law School.

Most of the 20 attendees who entered the Law School denied the Order of the Hippo's existence but failed to provide an explanation for their presence at the induction ceremony for new members.

"I'm going to an event," said Order founder and former University president Stephen Joel Trachtenberg, who was wearing a tuxedo. "It is some kind of alumni event."

Other University administrators who entered the Law School in formal attire included Peter Konwerski, assistant vice president of Student and Academic Support Services, and Barbara Porter, University President Steven Knapp's chief of staff. Knapp was not seen entering the Law School Friday night.

"Am I my brother's keeper?" Trachtenberg said when asked about Knapp's whereabouts.

Many of the students seen going into the Law School were 2007 graduates, including former Student Association Executive Vice President Josh Lasky, Justin Neidig and Jeff Goodman - all of whom have been previously linked to the Order.

"I will swear on my mother's grave that I don't know what is going on," Neidig said.

"Some 180 venerables" were invited to this year's dinner, according to an e-mail sent by the Order's Sergeant-At-Arms Chris Brooks to members of the society and given to The Hatchet.

Members of the Order should "only let a dozen or so members of the junior class become aware that they will be members of it in their senior year," Trachtenberg said in a speech at the society's first initiation, according to a transcript.

Little else is known about the initiation ceremony and the society's rules for membership.

In a 2007 interview, Neidig refused to discuss many of the details of the organization's membership.

"Membership is secret," he said. "(However), no individual is entitled to membership based upon arbitrary titles or campus involvement."

He added that initiation is "done in accordance (with) University guidelines."

In 2005, Student Judicial Services charged 12 Order members for violating the Student Code of Conduct and participating in hazing and underage drinking after Order members were seen on campus with blindfolds over their eyes and mud or face paint on their bodies.

The Code of Conduct defines hazing as "any action taken or situation created intentionally, with or without consent, whether on or off campus, to produce mental or physical discomfort, embarrassment, harassment or ridicule."

Attendees gathered outside the Law School said they did not know who would be admitted to the society this year.

In February, The Hatchet owas given an invitation for Friday's ceremony that listed Brooks, the chairman of the College Republicans, as the contact-person for the event.

Brooks, who was not seen entering the Law School, would not disclose his association with the Order in a February interview with The Hatchet.

"If I was involved, I wouldn't mention any involvement," Brooks said. "I find it interesting that an anonymous source tipped (The Hatchet) off to something that may or may not be true."

So, long story short, people are parading around campus in tuxedos, festooned with gold hippo pins, giving outrageously ridiculous statements and quotes, and pretty much bursting with excitement because now people are going to know they're all in a secret society! It'd would be hilarious, if it weren't so sad.

And the worst of it is that the Order hazes people. This is coming from a former President who wouldn't hesitate to try to get a greek organization booted off campus if there was even a hint of hazing, and yet they spend their time blindfolding their members, covering them in mud and paint, and parading them blindly around the campus quads. Genius! And since when was that the appropriate rites for a secret society induction? What about solemn oaths, brotherhood, and the ritual sacrifice of a goat? What would The Skulls say??

Time to Start Anew!

2008-04-10T10:37:00.006-04:00

Good morning everyone!

So I've officially survived my first day as a 23 year old, and even managed to survive dinner last night without any homicides. Now that's progress! We went to 53 South in Hingham, and I had a lovely night, based only partially on the numerous Candy Apple Martinis I imbibed (they had a coconut rim! Talk about delicious!) We had some awkward moments, but in the end, no blood was spilled, and I consider that an overwhelming success. It's like we've all matured.

I promptly passed out as soon as I came home, and when I woke up this morning, I just felt... at peace with the world. I had a relaxing, enjoyable birthday, I've been able to spend time with friends and family lately, and it's a new (birthday) year - I have nowhere to go but up, from here. And I want to take advantage of that. 22 had it's ups and downs, but in the past few months I've felt like I'm stuck in a rut; I hate my job, I hate the city I live in, and I've been trying to figure out how to actually turn my life around and start doing what I really want to be doing.

Well, now I'm in the last year of my early-twenties, and I think it's high time to turn shit around, and start really living life. Especially because my free Tarot Card reading from tarot.com told me I was on the cusp of greatness! Because nothing says "oh, totally depend on this!" like a free online tarot reading. Seriously.

I don't have anything else intelligent or inspiring to say today. I just know that THE OFFICE comes back tonight!! Same with My Name is Earl! Happy birthday to me!!!!!!!

Happy Birthday To Me!

2008-04-09T10:55:00.016-04:00

Shit - I'm really old.

I mean 23 - twenty-three. I'm still technically in my early-twenties, but next year marks the beginning of my mid-twenties. Mid-twenties. If you couldn't already tell, I keep repeating words today in a shocked, bewildered sort of tone. Anyway, today I'm 23, not 24, not any other age, so I'm going to enjoy it as much as I can. If this is the last year of my mid-twenties, I sure as hell better enjoy every minute of it.

Quite literally, an online birthday card from my Blingee.com account

My mother left me a card in the bathroom this morning, and true to form, my mother continues to give me the most touching cards imaginable:

Card Outside: (3 old women on lounge chairs, in towels)
Old Woman 1: So I said, "I just don't see how that trapeze is going to hold both of us..."
Old Woman 2: You're making this up!
Old Woman 3: Who cares? What happens next!

Card Inside:
Getting older is fun if you hang out with the right people. Happy Birthday.
Hope you have a real hoot!! on your birthday - I know I will!! xoxo, Mom

(And just so you know, for my mom's birthday this year I gave her a card with an image of old, scantily clad people playing Hop Scotch - on the inside, it said "Fuck it, let's skip the Hop and go straight to the Scotch! Happy Birthday!" We just... get each other.)

I've already received some lovely presents, including season 1 of Torchwood, 3 books and 2 audio books from Sheridan, ridiculously adorable anchor print Vineyard Vines flip flops from Jen, and a gorgeous tan leather purse from my mother. I want to put all my books in the bag, put on my flip flops, and... charge outside into the 50 degree weather? Maybe not. Anyway, today I also received a present from my Tarot.com account (psh, like you don't get your horoscope delivered to your inbox every day!). It's a... um. Celtic Cross 11 Card reading? I'm not sure, I forget. But here's my prediction for my 23rd year - and it's the best reading I've ever had!

Self: Three of Wands

Main (positional) meaning: You are prepared to take risks to explore new opportunities or enterprises. The card in the Self position reveals aspects of how you perceive yourself right now. When the Three of Wands is in this position an adventure is about to be set in motion. This card represents the burning drive that compels a person to risk his or her worldly fortunes for a chance at greatness. Committed to a plan of action, you have gathered resources and designed the step by step procedure. An enterprising spirit inspires you to strike out in this new direction rather than stay with the status quo. Now you can confidently set out on this journey of exploration and hopefully, enrichment.

Situation: Seven of Cups

Main (positional) meaning: Make sensible choices based on self-knowledge. The card that lands in the Situation position refers to social or circumstantial factors which could be affecting your life at this time. When the Seven of Cups is in this position, you may be entering a climate of affirmation and opportunity, perhaps in direct contrast to what has gone before. It is as if you have broken into a clearing after hacking your way through a thicket. The possibilities are so lush it's almost embarrassing, although not all of them can be acted upon. Be sensible. You have to know yourself well enough to determine which of all the available delights is truly for you and you alone. Take care not to be greedy in this situation. Sharpen your powers of discrimination, use your intuition, and follow your heart.

Challenges/ Opportunities: Ten of Cups

Main (positional) meaning: You know in your heart that you have done what is best for all concerned. The card that lands in the Challenges/Opportunities position refers to ways that you can turn obstacles into stepping stones. With the Ten of Cups in this position, let yourself relax, knowing your labors are completed. The worst is over and a much-improved future lies ahead. You are moving forward to a life which is very different from the one you inherited. You know that your heroic effort has made a real difference in the way things are now unfolding. Even if you don't receive all the recognition you have earned, a solid core of self-esteem is now your permanent possession. You did the right thing under challenging circumstances; you kept the greater good in mind. Knowing this produces feelings of personal gratification. Now you can lay this situation to rest and learn to live in a totally new way.

Foundation: Four of Coins

Main (positional) meaning: Take stock of your many blessings and honor your powerful roots. The card in the Foundation position points to influences from your personal history, your roots and background. The Four of Coins in this position suggests you are blessed with substantial gift assets of one kind or another. Some families are culturally rich; some are spiritually rich, while others have financial wealth. All of these can be blessings. Take stock of your personal inheritance, and honor your roots. Be grateful for, and take advantage of, the natural resources passed down to you in this lifetime. In the English-school decks, we see the image of a person who is stuck in his or her misunderstanding of how the material plane works. He's afraid to let go of his four measly coins, because he doesn't know he has to give in order to get. When looked at this way, this is the card of "poverty consciousness."

Recent Past: Ace of Wands

Main (positional) meaning: Someone has shown you how to develop singleness of purpose. The card in the Recent Past position refers to events that are just departing, recently influential but now diminishing in power. With the Ace of Wands in this position, you have been shown an example of a person who has unified his or her will, heart and mind. Such an example is an extraordinary gift. Such a person is not only without duplicity but is like the still center of a howling gale. Capture this person's image and remember it, because it will help you develop a sense of inner harmony and singleness of purpose. This is not only an important lesson but also a real blessing that shouldn't be forgotten.

Higher Power: Justice

Main (positional) meaning: Divine power trusts you to do the right thing. The card in the Higher Power position reflects the broader perspective and influence of your conscience, Guardian Angel, inner wisdom. When Justice comes up in this position, you are given the sword and scales to mediate an important debate, contract or negotiation. Two decidedly non-neutral parties are arguing a case before you as you sit in the seat of the village elder, the wise person. Your task is to find the balance point. Do not be swayed by sentiment, cut deals or do favors. Listen closely, then state the truth, guided by your Higher Power. Show each party how to surrender selfish considerations and cooperate around the most even-handed solution.

Near Future: Eight of Coins

Main (positional) meaning: Continue to cultivate your mastery and you will reap abundant success. The card in the Near Future position indicates which way the wind is blowing with regard to your situation. If you follow the Advice card, however, you can improve on or neutralize tendencies. With the Eight of Coins in this position, you are gearing up to design and render more sophisticated projects. Everything is in place for great success as long as you persevere. Your artistic and intellectual development are evolving in an upward spiral. Continue to refine your skills. Master your craft, building your reputation and attracting new projects, and you will be richly rewarded. Stay on track.

Blocks & Inhibitions: Ten of Wands

Main (positional) meaning: Preoccupation with externals obstructs your purpose; focus instead on the inner reality. The card in the Blocks position points to self-undermining tendencies, areas where you could be in denial, where you could get stuck -- unless you examine yourself and make some corrections. The Ten of Wands in this position indicates you are placing too much value on outwardly oriented pursuits when what you are truly seeking -- inner peace -- is being neglected. Ask yourself if you purposely invite distractions into your life to keep from feeling and having what you are truly longing for, your source of true passion. If that seems true, decide what changes you will make to keep from obstructing inner progress any further.

Allies: Four of Swords

Main (positional) meaning: Look to history for personalities and deeds to model your aspirations. The card in the Allies position points to people who can be supportive or helpful to you at this time. The Four of Swords in this position suggests that your allies, role models and greatest inspirations may be members of previous generations; they may even be historical heroes or legendary figures. Seek inspiration from your archetypes of change, healing and wisdom, whose stories and deeds stir the urge within you to overcome obstacles and resolve problems. Turn the wheels of transformation and evolution. If none come immediately to mind, take time to search for role models who will inspire the qualities you wish to emulate and cultivate within yourself.

Advice: The Hierophant

Main (positional) meaning: Develop your expertise, and have faith that you are a master in the making. The card in the Advice position suggests a course of action which will harmonize what you want with what is currently possible. The Hierophant in this position advises that you return to the role of a meticulous student. Learn everything you can about your chosen area. Let that knowledge become a part of you and an operative influence on your day to day awareness. In this way, you can slowly and steadily establish real credibility in your field or chosen subject. Earn respect and recognition by completing your education and broadening your experience. If you already have all the necessary experience you need, then rewrite your resume so others can appreciate who you are and what you can bring to a situation. Focus on your goal and be determined. You may be destined to be a master in your realm.

Long-term Potential: Page of Coins

Main (positional) meaning: When you work smarter instead of harder, you may well devise a better way. The card in the Long-term Potential position points to unknowns still taking shape. It is the "wild card" yet to be played. The Page of Coins (in some decks, a Princess) in this position indicates that the more completely you master the basics now -- whether regarding a relationship or some enterprise -- the greater your accomplishments will be in the future. Study how a small adjustment in technique can produce a substantial difference in outcome. Only after you have learned the history of your area of interest, and the demands that it makes on all who would master it, can you begin to see where you would make changes or invent better ways. Don't expect to just repeat what those who came before you did; refine your art and you will put your stamp on what is now like a dream in the mind of an apprentice (i.e. the Page). You have the power to gain true mastery if you remain devoted enough to put in the necessary time and effort.

Hot damn. BRB, fulfilling my awesome destiny!

My Last Day as a 22 Year Old

2008-04-08T10:37:00.004-04:00

Days till Old Age: Tomorrow

Crap.

So today is my last full day of being 22, and already I'm not so sure I want to live to see tomorrow. First of all, my uterus still motherfucking hurts, which is baffling me; last time I had surgery, it was much more intensive, and yet I was up and dragging my ass around after a few days. Hell, exactly a week after surgery, I began driving myself into Quincy, hopping on the T, and taking freaking summer classes at UMass! But now I'm cranky and sore and my belly button is fucked up, and really people, can I just be healthy???

Second of all, seeing as I'm home for my birthday, tomorrow can mean one terrifying thing, and one terrifying thing only:

Family. Dinner.

Like most people my age, my parents are divorced, and have been divorced for quite some time. Nothing out of the ordinary there. However, unlike most other people, my parents are entirely incapable of being human around each other, and even if they're not screaming and ripping each other's limbs off, they're so anxious and awkward around each other that it always drives me into panic attack territory. Either my father is ranting and raving about something that happened (or, often times, never actually happened) twelve years ago, or he's babbling on so rapidly about something exciting but intelligible that it makes everyone dizzy. There's no happy, calm middle ground - extremes all around for us, baby.

Add in to the mix our latest ex-almost-stepmother (to clarify, she wasn't our step mother, but may have well as been, but now she's another ex, but she still hangs out with the family, so it immediately brings the awkward quotient up to "Insanity") and I think the world might collapse in on itself. I have the urge to flee into the night, but A) it's not night, and B) I can't even mosey, let alone flee, so I think I'm stuck here.

At least we're going to 53 South, which means MARTINI BAR! So I'll be wasted within minutes of arriving at the restaurant, and that's the only solace I can cling to. If I'm lucky, I can pass out somewhere between the appetizers and the main course (ooh, like a mini diet!) and I won't remember anything the next morning. Good thing my tolerance is at an embarrassing low right now.

So, in honor of my last day of being 22, I've put together a list of highlights from the past year. Here goes:

1. The Mormon Mauler: Aw! Nothing says "romantic fun" like a guy that can't hold his liquor or his cocaine. Add into the mix that he's a Mormon that has no problem mauling you half to death, but freaks out at the idea of sex, and you have yet another reason why I refuse to date again for a very, very long time. Also, no, there were no onomatopoeias in the stuffed shells - and yes, he asked this right before passing out on top of Erin on our couch in the dorm. Aw.

2. Graduation: I did it! I graduated! Hooray for a BA in English! I find it hilarious that I graduated with an English degree, and my brother now wants to get a BA in Art History - my parents somehow managed to have children that want the least lucrative degrees in the history of time. Hello, never ending debt! At any rate, somehow my 4 years of boozing, sorority life, and skipping 99% of my classes paid off - well, by paid off, I mean GW became the most expensive school in the country, and we paid over $200,000 for my education, and now with an English degree I'll never make any money, so the school owns my soul. Yes!

3. Getting My First Apartment: I seriously lucked out hard with this apartment. While the rent may be insane, it's much cheaper than anything else in the area (because the building is gross and people are regularly murdered in the halls, if you didn't already know), and you really can't beat the location (midtown on the cusp of downtown? Right between Dupont and Logan Circles? Right between 3 of the largest Metro stops in the city? Hell yeah!) I also lucked into this place because I signed a freaking lease the morning before I got my first job!

4. Appropriately, Gettiing My First Job: Aw, I remember thinking I was going to have such a great time. I was a legal and marketing assistant (or so I thought) and what could be a better stepping stone than that?? And then I realized that by "legal and marketing assistant" my bosses meant "cute chick that does nothing but makes us look good" and then I was sad. And planning my escape.

5. NYC Summer: This summer was the most amazing summer I've ever had. I spent most of it in New York City, being almost entirely broke, and loving every minute of it. New York in the summer is just breathtaking; there's so much to do, and so much fun to be had, and I miss it like crazy. And I realized that I loved living the "bohemian" (aka "broke ass") life. It was exciting and you never knew what was going to happen next. Or when you were going to eat next.

6. Go (Mid)West!: I dunno, I went to the midwest for the first time (other than just going there as a layover before moving onwards.) It was much cuter than I thought it would be, even if you could smell animal in most of the city.

6. Surgery Round 2: Yeah, uh, still holding out hope that this is eventually going to make me feel 100% better again, like the last round did.

So that was, partially, being 22. Of course there was more, but I'm tired of typing, and my uterus is complaining about my laptop being on top of it. So, before I go, I want to type out a list of things I want to achieve during my 23rd year:

- Move the fuck out of DC
- Go to back to Europe
- Sign the contract with the agency in LA
- Bang a celebrity
- Become a celebutard
- Have a haircut named after me

And more! I can't think straight, I need to go take a pain killer and try not to throw up my breakfast, so I'll figure this out once I'm actually 23. Good times!

Superficiality

2008-04-06T21:44:00.003-04:00

My bellybutton is now half an innie, and half an outtie. My beautiful, perfect bellybutton, is now some kind of halfsie, to quote Dwight. MY FUCKING ADORABLE BELLYBUTTON IS FUCKED UP FROM SURGERY. I can't even look at it, even knowing I'm still swollen as fuck, and it might not be too bad when all's said and done; it literally makes me want to throw up. I'm so superficial it's shocking.

And I don't know if:

A) My belly ring will even be able to go back in, seeing as it can, at the moment, only sit in HALF MY NAVEL, and

B) If the bottom ring hole is even there. I can't tell, and touching it, again, nearly induces vomiting. At least the top hole is still open and fine. And, you know, there.

That's all I've got.

America's Next Top (Drowned) Model

2008-04-04T15:15:00.008-04:00

Days till Old Age: 5 (I had to look up what day it was, that's what state my brain is in)
Days till My Uterus Explodes: idk like, probably twenty seconds from now

I seriously think my uterus is going to blow up and kill everyone within a five mile radius. I was feeling great after surgery, but beginning Wednesday night my uterus decided it was time to rebel, and has been oozing blood. Yeah, that's right, I said it: oozing blood. It sounds a hell of a lot grosser than it actually is in practice, but it's still gross, and it hurts like a mother fucker, and it is not helping my cabin fever and current manic feelings. Apparently it's from a wound from surgery, when my doctor clamped my uterus in order to move it around. Yeah, if that didn't just make me the sexiest person in existence, I just don't know what will.

Oh, wait, you want real sexy? Then I guess it's a good thing I waited till now to do this week's ANTM recap! On to the real sexiness!

This Week's Episode: Saran Wrap and Models in Puddles

This week's episode was disappointing for a variety of reasons. First of all, was anyone else hoping that Claire had indeed given herself a concussion (or at the very least, broken her neck and paralyzed herself?) when she hilariously face planted onto the, uh... giant Saran Wrap screen? I was so pissed when she pushed herself back up and started moving around, as I'd been praying she'd at least knock herself unconscious, and drown in the small pool of water. I guess it just wasn't my night.

Second of all, did anyone else want to cry when they chopped off Katarzyna's hair? Like I said right after the makeover edition, they could shave her bald and stick her in a paper bag, and the girl would still be amazingly hot, but must they keep butchering her hair? Like, c'mon, really people. Okay so she rocked an Emo look for one shoot - that does not mean you need to hack off her tresses. I suppose, in some ways, it does take away some of the sex kitten aspect she couldn't shake (or the "Eastern European tackiness" - thank you, Paulina) but I just don't get it. I mean, it's not like Tyra's prone to making sound decisions, but I still hold out hope. I guess I'm too optimistic.

Lastly, it was also the Go See Episode, and while they at least they were (finally) taken pity on this episode, I still hate the go sees with a fiery passion. The girls are always so fucking stupid at their appointments, and you seriously have to wonder just how the hell they manage to function in society on a daily basis. This time was no different. Fatima scared everyone with her under 100 lb frame, the Dominique/Whitney group didn't know when to shut the fuck up, people were ungrateful in front of the designers, and Lauren proved, yet again, that she should never be allowed anywhere near civilized people. (Seriously, I was afraid the bitch was going to start tweaking out again - what the fuck was she thinking in that fight about fucking coffee??)

At any rate, the shoot was... interesting. I'll give it that much. Some of the pictures were fabulous (and it pains me to say so, seeing as some of the ones I adored were from people I want to kill, but whatever) but others clearly said, "hey, we're attempting to drown awkward models in small puddles on Saran Wrap." Not quite something you usually see in the pages of Vogue. Here are the pictures, in order of call out:

Winner: Fatima

I hate that Fatima did so well, because I have to admit that she... well, you know, did really well. She looks graceful and perfectly proportioned, and she really just flows with the whole shoot. She embodies the feel of the shoot and doesn't let that whole "water in my eyes, nose, mouth, etc" thing shake her off. Most unfortunately. And I also have to admit that I was actually on her side during Lauren's insanity. Fatima was - for once - nothing but nice, and actually apologetic, yet Lauren continued to scream and rant like she was about to eat her face off. I'm kind of disappointed that it didn't escale to that point, really. Two birds, and all.

Anya

Oh, Anya. I'm convinced there's nothing but some cotton stuffing in your skull, but I have to admit that you're a good model. Anya knows how to pose, and she has no qualms about acting ridiculous in order to get the shot (it also helps that she's always acting ridiculous) and it shows. Her last few pictures have been really good, and she continues to chug along and consistently do well. Even if her eyebrows seem to have escaped her face.

Katarzyna

OMG how excited were all of you when Katarzyna finally made Cover Girl of the Week?? I may have shrieked a little out loud - not only did Claire finally get kicked the fuck out of the spot, it went to my absolute favorite girl in the competition. Katarzyna is gorgeous and takes incredible pictures (I actually think she did better than Anya here, but at least she was called out third) and consistently does well. She can walk, she looked amazing in all of the designer pieces at the Go Sees, and she takes beautiful pictures. Sure, she could be more outgoing and... zanier... like the other competitors, but the fact that she's so normal and sweet is so damn refreshing. The judges should stop harping on her to be crazier, and appreciate the fact that finally someone is normal (and tolerated by the general population.)

Whitney

Ummm... Whitney. Okay, Whitney is still fierce as hell, and I am still very excited that she's doing so well, and seems to be in the competition for the long haul, but this episode I was kind of... baffled. That she would bitch about the designer right there in the designer's studio was shocking, and I wanted to slap some sense into her. Yes, she's gorgeous, and yes, it's unfair that even though she is so gorgeous she won't be able to be in the same shows as the other girls, but she knows this. Unlike most of the girls, Whitney's not an idiot, and she needs to pull herself together. Sure, I'd love to see them send her on a Go See that caters to plus sized models, but hey, the second designer did have women of all sizes in their shows, and happily said they'd use her, so she needs to stop the pity party. She's so lucky she's made it this far, and is actually a force to reckon with. Now stop the goddamn bitching. Oh, and one more thing - what the fuck is a "fabulous, full sized fetus?" Is that supposed to be a compliment, Paulina?

Stacy Ann

Stacy Ann, Stacy Ann, Stacy Ann. I'm still not sure what to do with her. I have to admit that - even with her ostrich face and falsetto voice - she's growing on me. I still think she's kind of scary in general, but she does have the certain... je ne sais quois. Well, she has something at least. And I was impressed by how good she looked in the designer samples at the go sees. Her skin is so beautiful, and it looked brilliant against the clothes, and it helped that she could actually, you know, walk in them. She's still not my favorite, but at least she's not Dominique. Oh, and that brings me to...

Dominique

Let me ask you the same question I asked you last week - do you know what this is? This is a dude. A dude in a dress. A dude in a dress in a puddle of water. There is nothing in this world that can convince me that Dominique is actually a woman, even if you pulled her pants off and aired her vagina like Paris Hilton during a night on the town. Dominique is a man. She's literally so horrifically ugly that it offends me. Every time she's shown on the screen, I want to run to New York, hunt her down and beat her to a bloody pulp, just to stop the madness. Between the soccer mom hair, the pulsating, protruding veins in her neck, and the general offensiveness that is anything above her shoulders, it's just too much to handle. It's like she's been placed there solely to anger me. Her pictures are hideous and awkward and good fucking lord, I can't wait for the day that the villagers storm the studios with their pitchforks and torches and off her.

Lauren: Bottom Two

Uh, I'm not sure what happened here, but I think that Lauren went on the rampage, then slipped and fell to her untimely death on this screen. It really looks like she just fell and splattered messily everywhere - very much like a bug on a windshield. It's not graceful or attractive, which isn't surprising, seeing as Lauren is the exact antithesis of both graceful and attractive. And seriously, this whole Anger Management Issue thing is really freaking me out. Sure, she occasionally takes good pictures, but she's otherwise completely incapable of modeling in any capacity, and she's probably going to snap and murder all of the other contestants, so we could probably get her in a straight jacket sooner than later. Although how awesome was it to see the second designer literally gape at how terrible Lauren's Lurch walk is? She was so horrified!

Claire: Went Home

Thank GOD! At least ONE good thing came out of this episode! Claire has been on thin ice from the moment her ugly ass sauntered out for her first minute on air, in all her half-buzzed-head, self-breast milk-drinking glory. Claire is 24 but looks 54, and is so untalented and hideous that I was terrified she'd end up in the final 2. And what was the deal with her (until this week) because the goddamn Cover Girl of the Week?? Claire brought absolutely nothing to the proverbial table, and every week she stayed on, I wept for all our sakes. At least now she can go back to her baby (you know, the one she misses soooo much, but willingly abandoned for a half-assed reality tv show?) and save us all the horror of being subjected to her face and body.

I Am Alive

2008-04-03T08:22:00.003-04:00

But oh, what a crazy few days it's been. Let's start at the beginning.

Saturday: I took the Amtrak's regional overnight on Friday, and got into South Station in Boston at 8am on Sunday. My mom picked me up and we went back to Hull to drop my things off, and then decided to go out for a very unhealthy, calorie-laden breakfast. As we were getting ready to walk out the door - around 9am - I realized I needed to call the blood lab to see about my blood results, so I called and they said they'd sent the results in, but couldn't give them to me even though they were my blood results. Fab. So I called my doctor's office, and my doctor said she'd go check the fax machine, seeing as the results came in late the night before.

She calls me back a minute later and says: "Sorry, surgery's off." The last time I was checked for Factor 7, I tested at 40%. I don't know exactly what that means, other than that I was healthy and it was barely an issue, and it pretty much just meant I was a carrier of the gene and nothing else. Well, this time, I tested at 17%. My first reaction was "Oh yay, I'm better!" but this means that I'm worse. Apparently 20% is the severe risk level, and I was, obviously below it. So of course I freaked out.

Yep, crying on the phone, panicking, making an ass of myself. My doctor was very apologetic, but she wanted to be safe, and while I can't blame her, it's quite a punch in the gut. And she didn't know when I could have surgery, which would've meant I would've had to change pretty much all of my plans for the next few months (including getting the fuck out of DC and moving elsewhere.) So my mother gets on the phone and talks logistics with my doctor, and I try not to pass out from anxiety. My doctor says there's still a slim chance surgery could go as planned, but she'd have to get in touch with the hematologist and work out all the issues, and find more Factor 7 to have on hand in the OR. And she's not even sure my hematologist would consent to surgery, seeing as she hasn't seen me in close to 2 years. It was one giant mess.

After we get off the phone, we decide to still go out for breakfast to cheer me up. I pour myself into the car, feeling terrifically sorry for myself (but looking forward to chocolate chip pancakes and hash browns) and we start driving. About a minute later (this is now around 9:30am) my phone rings, and once again it's my doctor's office. I pick up, and my doctor announces: "Surgery's on! I'll see you Monday!"

To say I was shocked was a bit of an understatement. In that half an hour, my doctor had not only gotten hold of the hospital and found more Factor 7, but she'd already talked to my hematologist and they decided that since I have absolutely no history of bleeding, I'll be okay for surgery. With the extra Factor 7 on hand in the OR, I'd be okay in case anything happened. Again, all this in half an hour. So then of course I cried on the phone again, but at least my doctor is a young woman who specializes in women with hormonal insanity, so she was used to it. So, within a half an hour, surgery had been canceled, then was back on, and I was almost insane. At least we ended up going to Stars and eating enough food to feed a small army.

Monday: Surgery day! I woke up at 6am with my mother to go to school with her before surgery. Since they'd bumped me up to an earlier time, we decided to go ahead and do the before school program that my mom does, and then just go right to the hospital from there. And to drop off my rent check along the way, since I was juggling a million things at once when I left and DIDN'T DROP MY CHECK OFF. Sure, it would be in on time since it's not due till the first of the month, but still. Ugh. So at 8am we left for the hospital, and I went right in for blood work. Everything panned out and I changed into one of those super flattering hospital johnnies, and settled in for the long haul. I was supposed to have surgery at 11, but it ended up being closer to noon because of another surgery before mine that had to start late.

I have no memory whatsoever of getting my anesthesia or waking up after surgery (I got my anesthesia in the pre-op area so god only knows when the hell they pulled that one on me) but I do remember waking up an hour or so after surgery, covered by this awesome blanket that was hooked up to a machine that pumped hot air into it, so I constantly stayed warm. This was amazing because the last time I had this surgery, the anesthesia made me so cold that I was shaking and kept hurting my surgery area, and they had to pile, like 8 blankets on me. Oops.

I would've been out of recovery about an hour or so after surgery, but without thinking I said sure to having pain meds pumped into me (twice) and so I ended up spending FOUR HOURS there, while I tried not to puke my brains out. I can't handle any pain meds anymore - no percs, no vicoden's, not even morphine. All of it makes me feel like my stomach has turned itself inside-out and is trying to spew itself forcefully out of my mouth. Sexy.

So, around 6pm my mom and I finally emerged from the hospital. Some retarded new nurse brought us all over the place because he got lost wheeling my wheel chair out to the door (brilliant.) Then, while my mom went out to get the car and bring it round to the door, some crazy, haggard looking woman wandered up to us and asked if we had an extra cigarette. Yes, because a nurse and a chick hunched over in a wheelchair, clutching a pillow and looking like hell, would definitely be toting around packs of cigarettes. Nothing says "smokers!" like scrubs and someone obviously out of surgery.

Anyway, my mom carted me home and put me to bed, and I spent much of that day sleeping and whining and whatnot. I actually felt (much) better than I'd anticipated. Last time, I spent 3 days out flat on my ass, and had a hard time getting up and moving around. This time, it was much easier, and I'm much more mobile. The day after surgery, I could maneuver the stairs without it hurting too much. The surgery itself was far more minimal - rather than thick bands of scar tissue everywhere, and endometrial tissue on nerve endings and stuff, there was only a bit of endometrial tissue on the underside of my uterus. More sexy! At any rate, my reproductive organs are still operating swimmingly, and I'm fine.

Everything in gerneal was pretty fab, really, until late yesterday afternoon, when I realized I was having some bleeding issues. As far as I'm aware, this is considered normal, but given my Factor 7 issues, I'm freaking out a bit. As of yet, I haven't died or anything, and a trip to WebMD said it was normal, but I'm waiting for my doctor to call me back and assure me that I'm okay. Fingers crossed.

At any rate, I feel okay, and I'm definitely getting better. As long as all this blood crap checks out, I'll be good to go!

Just Kidding

2008-03-28T13:40:00.003-04:00

I'm not done yet.

Just got off the phone with my doctor, who informed me that the blood lab, rather than performing a Factor 7 Activity Level test like instructed, performed a Factor 8 Activity Level test. Now, I'm not quite panicking yet because they said they can rush the results for the correct test and have them in either this evening or tomorrow morning.

Now, my doctor originally said the results could be in tomorrow and I'd be fine, so that's... good at least. The only problem is that they were supposed to be in yesterday or today, so that my doctor had ample time to speak to my hematologist in case my risk factor had gone up (which I still don't understand, given as I have the gene, and do not have hemophilia) but she thinks surgery should go on as planned. The only issue would be if the results changed, but they still would have the Factor 7 on hand just in case, so I have no idea what the fucking issue is. Just order freaking extra, if you're worried.

This is ridiculous. All of this could've been avoided if they'd just told me in ADVANCE that I needed this test done. Then the lab could've fucked up and it wouldn't be an issue. Now, of course, I get to go home and spend the entire train ride worrying that something will be off, and I won't be able to have surgery on Monday. I swear to god, if I don't have surgery, I will kill someone. Happily.

Last Minute Craziness

2008-03-28T09:36:00.003-04:00

Days till Surgery: 3
Days till Old Age: 12

So today is the day I pack up my comfiest pajamas, make sure all the food in my apartment that could go bad is thrown away, and prepare for a week full of surgery, recovery, and eating entirely too much ice cream at home in Hull.

I am, most unfortunately, at work for the better part of the day today, although I get to leave early to make sure I have enough time to get everything together and actually get to the train on time. For those of you that have had the immense pleasure of traveling with me, you know I like to be early for any train/plane/automobile I may be taking. When I travel Amtrak, for instance, I arrive precisely an hour early, and I sit in the seat closest to the gate, so that when it comes time to line up, I can leap up, push aside the elderly and any small children, and guarantee that I have a window seat. You never know - sometime the train comes from Virginia, and the good seats are few and far between.

I also need extra time to finish packing, even though I have been packing for several days now. I always cause immense levels of stress in those around me when I pack, because I can never make up my goddamn mind. Even when I'm going home to basically sit on my ass for a week, I spend hours stressing over which pajama shirt best goes with which pair of pajama pants - because you never know who may come bursting in your room and judge you on your outfit. Hey, it could happen.

Oh honey, those striped Victoria's Secret loungewear pants are so last season!

So I have much to do when back at my apartment, and a few things to actually do at work before I can take my week long pseudo-vacation. For instance, upon arrival in the office this morning, I had to tally up the first round of the Sweet 16 scores, and see where we all stood in our office pool. If that's not important, earth shattering work, then I just don't know what is. Unfortunately, I am in a tight spot, as I'm currently in last place...

...but! A few of the guys have teams going all the way to the last two (or even winning the entire thing) that have already been knocked out, and since those rounds are obviously worth more points, I may be able to turn the table at the last minute. C'mon, UCLA and UNC! Especially UNC - if I don't win this, heads will roll. Literally.

Once I get home, things will hardly slow down, at least for the weekend. This morning my brother is having oral surgery (goodbye, wisdom teeth!) so I'll spend the weekend helping my parents make sure he's suitably comfortable, and trying to help out as much as I can. I'd feel really bad if he was still really in pain and then I went and had my surgery and stole their attention away, so hopefully things will even out and he'll be in good shape once it's my turn to have Operation played on me. Why we're having surgery so close together I don't know - I don't think anyone really realized what was going on until both had already been planned and it was almost show time. Now we're all looking sheepish and going "Oooh yeah... damnit!" At any rate, this will be one very interesting long weekend.

So now I must say adieu, my loyal readers. I won't be updating for a few days - at least until I can sit up and attempt coherent thought. Hopefully I'll have an update on Wednesday or Thursday, if all goes well. I'm crossing my fingers and already dreaming of a giant vat of Coffee Heath Bar Crunch ice cream. Here's to our dreams.

ANTM Hurts My Brain

2008-03-27T10:14:00.006-04:00

Days till Surgery: 4
Days till Old Age: 13

Now, usually, ANTM always hurts my brain: the girls are shockingly loud and obnoxious, the pictures are usually hilarious, Tyra is always completely insane, the J(ay)s frighten me, and the judges always pick the least talented, least model-esque girls to "continue on towards becoming America's Next Top Model." This week, however, things were thrown around a bit, and for once I'm almost at a loss for words. Almost. In order to better tackle this conundrum, I've put this week's pictures in order of call out, from best to worst:

Whitney: Grunge

Okay, well, I'm torn on this one. I'm so happy that they're finally taking a plus sized model seriously, and I love Whitney, I reall do. I think she's gorgeous and talented and I'm so happy to see her holding her own. At the same time, all of her goddamn pictures have the same face - that slack jawed, slightly dazed, slightly surprised look that kind of makes you cringe, cause you don't want any flies buzzing in there or whatever. I mean this picture looks great (if rather The Crow-esque) but I was hoping we'd see more from her than just an open mouth. So I'm a little surprised that she was called out first. Tyra, what are you thinking?

Katarzyna: Emo

Now this picture deserved to get the first call out, in my humble opinion. Katarzyna looks absolutely stunning here, and finally proves that she's not just some mail-order pin-up bride from Russia. This picture alone shows just how versatile she is, and how she can rock anything from a lingerie cruise on the Hudson to an Emo photoshoot with lots and lots of black eyeliner and hurt feelings. I'm so happy that Tyra & Co. actually recognize how good she is. I loved her from the beginning and saw a lot of potential in her, so of course I assumed she'd be going home first.

Fatima: Heavy Metal

Now this I don't get at all. Yes, Fatima finally realized that her legs are indeed a part of her body, and finally posed them accordingly, but otherwise the photo is ridiculous. Yes, she finally "got into it" and showed some kind of expression, but she looks like a KISS reject, and rather than it being ~provocative~ it comes across as really scary. Like, hiding under your bed scary. There were a lot of much better pictures this time around, so I have no idea why she was called out so high; I'm thinking Tyra just wants to make a fuss about Fatima actually listening to her for once. Because, you know, listening to Tyra guarantees her a spot among the greats, and all.

Lauren: Pop

I have no idea how this picture expresses "Pop" especially because when I think of the term I envision Miley Cyrus, and oldschool Britney and Christina. But whatever. At any rate, the picture is... okay. I'm glad that Lauren is so much fierce in pictures than she is in person (especially because she's so horrific in person) but this picture leaves much to be desired. It's... just okay. Not great, not terrible, just okay. Like Fatima, I have no idea how she got called out so highly, especially when there are much better pictures still to come. Again I think it's a "listen to Tyra and climb the ranks!" thing which pisses me off.

Anya: Punk Rock

Now this is one of the pictures that should've been called out after the top 2. Anya looks amazing here, and uses her full body (feet, legs, torso, arms, face, etc) to really bring both the pose and the theme of the shot to life. She does a much better job than Fatima and Lauren, yet is called out after. Which again makes me want to beat my head off my desk. Although, like Katarzyna, I liked Anya from the beginning, so I was anticipating her going home right away. At any rate, she actually rocks her ridiculous platinum 'do here, so I'm happy for now. I just hope she ends up kicking some ass in the future, and doesn't get stuck so low in the pecking order.

Dominique: Folk

Do you know what this is? This is a dude in a dress. A dude, in a dress. There's nothing even remotely appealing about this picture, and I cannot, for the life of me, understand why she wasn't in the bottom two this week (and especially why her manly ass wasn't sent packing.) Sure, her waist looks kinda small, and I guess the whole outfit and outdoors scene gives her that "Folk" feeling they're going for, but Dominique herself (himself?) brings absolutely nothing to the plate. Ooh, a slight tilt - genius! Clearly that embodies the Folk theme! Ugh. She's so freaking hideous, both in person and in pictures, yet she continues to stay on. Tyra, I know you're doing this just to piss me off, and I'm so sorry to say it's working. Damn you and your lack of a soul!

Stacy Ann: House

Okay, usually I hate Stacy Ann. Like, hate Stacy Ann. With the fury of a thousand suns. But this week I was shocked to find that I really liked her picture. There's something about the pink color against her skin, and her expression and body pose here that I really, really like. And, quite frankly, I'm baffled that she's so low in the call-out order. Sure, it's not overwhelmingly full of emotion, but I thought it was a great shot - something you'd easily see in the pages of Nylon, for example. It just seems very natural and very easy, so I don't get the low call out - especially because she's crazy, and Tyra loves her crazy ass. And Tyra's favorites always get first dibs.

Claire: Country

It kills me to say this, but... I like this picture. A lot. I still would've preferred to see Claire leave over Aimee, but that's mostly because I hate her in person, and I think she looks like a 60 year old dementia patient who's been locked up for years in a psych ward. But this picture is very interesting; soft but it highlights her strong angles feminine, but you get the hint of cowgirl beneath it; kind of plain, but it speaks volumes. So of course it's in the bottom two. Now I'll admit, she's not doing much in this picture unlike some of the others who are bending all over the place, and making more of an outward gesture of emotion, but I think this picture speaks to Claire's ability to just do it - to sit there and still take a good picture. This is the difference between her picture and Dominique's - both of them are just there, but Claire really brings some depth to it. So of course she's in the bottom two? IDK. I also don't get why Claire is STILL the Covergirl of the week! Seriously! She brings nothing entertaining to this show!

Aimee: R&B

And Aimee, once one of my top picks for this competition, goes home tonight. I have to admit that I was wrong in my choice, and I do (mostly) agree with her being sent home. I would of course have wanted Fatima or Dominique to go home instead (especially Dominique, cause that is all new levels of hideous) but Aimee just hasn't had "it" lately. The last few pictures of hers have been boring and uninteresting, and while I love her look, and I really liked her in person, she's falling flat on camera. Sadly, I have to admit it was (probably) her time to go, and I have to keep my fingers crossed and pray that next week, our resident Tranny man is the one sent home. Please, Tyra God, work your magic in my favor for once, okay? Please??

The Trials of (Pre-) Surgery

2008-03-26T09:32:00.002-04:00

Days till Surgery: 5
Days till Old Age: 14

So yesterday's post was made before even more insanity went down. Here's what happened:

Like I said yesterday, South Shore Hospital informed me that I had to come in sometime before surgery for blood work. They said Friday morning was fine, as long as I was in before 5pm when they close. It was a pain in the ass, but I started planning a new trip home, and was waiting on my mother to call me back to change my travel arrangements.

Well, then my doctor's office calls, and informs me that no, I cannot have the blood work done on Friday, as that specific test has a WEEK turnaround time, and we're going to have to reschedule surgery. EXCUSE ME??? You do not schedule an over-the-phone consultation 6 DAYS before surgery, then inform me that I HAVE to take a test that has a WEEK turnaround time. On what planet does that make sense?? I'd talked to my doctor and several people in her office numerous times since scheduling my surgery (which was, by the way, weeks ago) and not once did they inform me that I needed more blood work. My doctor even said I didn't need a real pre-op, since I'd already had the surgery before, and all my blood work was up to date.

Obviously, I freaked out. I've been anxious for days now because of surgery, and my hormones are touchy as hell as it is, being on the Lupron, so hearing that I might have to rearrange all my travel, fight with work to move my schedule around, and have to wait another week for surgery (meaning it would be 2 days before my birthday, which is no fun) pretty much pushed me over the edge.

My doctor spoke with my hematologist who said I had to get the blood work done, but said if I could find a lab in DC that could get the results in by Saturday, I could have the surgery as scheduled on Monday. A million thanks to Sam for pointing me towards LabCorp, a lab on K Street, as I called them and they seemed outraged that the test would have a week turnaround time, as they could do it in 2-3 days. I literally got teary eyed, I was so grateful.

So I called my doctor, informed her that she was doing surgery, and then skedaddled down K Street to get my test done. I was in and out in less than 10 minutes, and now I'm all set (for real this time) for surgery! I understand that my doctor is very busy, and really likes to take all possible precautions, but this was just insane. If you really want me to have a test that's practically needless, at least tell me beforehand, so you don't fuck up my entire schedule. It's so horrifically unfair to announce "well we didn't tell you more than a week before, so we're gonna reschedule!" The surgery itself really isn't all that bad, but all the anticipation and anxiety and stress leading up to it really gets to me, and it's too much to have to push it back.

Sure, you might say I'm being a baby, but I've already had it happen once, and it was a disaster. I went in for surgery the very first time, was hooked up to an IV and ready to go, when they announced that some ridiculous test (not a standard test at ALL) had shown I had the gene for the Factor 7 Deficiency - and I had to go home. The test is almost never preformed (and shows just how ridiculously slight my deficiency is) and obviously I was fine, as I'd already had my wisdom teeth out, and if I really had hemophilia, I would've died a horrible, bloody death in the operating room. I'm all for better safe than sorry, but not when it fucks my mind and body over. At least give me some damn warning so we can schedule accordingly.

So, enough ramblings - I'm coming home as planned on Saturday morning, having surgery as planned on Monday morning, and hopefully all will be well. Although if I get another call about yet another issue, I'm gonna start snapping necks left and right, so I might end up in prison - and that wouldn't be good.

I'm Screwed

2008-03-25T09:53:00.003-04:00

Days till Surgery:6
Days till Old Age: 15

Royally screwed.

I spoke with South Shore Hospital today (if you couldn't guess, it's where I'm having my surgery done) and they informed me that I had to - not if I wanted to, or was inclined to, but had to - come in for blood work prior to my surgery. Problem? They're only open on weekdays, and I'm not going home until Saturday morning. with surgery at 11am on Monday morning, there's obviously no time to come in and have any work done. But, as I said, they stressed that I had to go in.

Of course I've already booked my train home, which means I get to cancel the train, pay the cancellation fee, rebook the train, pay the extra amount, come home a day and a half earlier, take a day and a half more off of work, and attempt not to lose my mind over all of it.

Now, it's great that they're so fastidious about blood work, especially because I have the gene for Factor 7 Deficiency, but the point is, I only have the gene. Technically I do not have hemophilia, it just shows up on certain tests because I carry the gene. The only time anyone is at risk for fun side effects like bleeding into their brain is if I mate with someone else that carries the gene, and 1 out of our 4 children actually contracts the Deficiency. But they still want me to come in to make sure everything's okay, which is fine with me, it really is - better safe than sorry. But it's a hell of a lot to smooth out in order to actually take this precaution.

So now I have a mother who's MIA (how, pray tell, does a Kindergarten teacher go MIA?), a father who's dealing with my grandmother who just had surgery, a brother who's having oral surgery either that Thursday or Friday, and one big mess of a fucked up schedule. I feel like a liquid lunch is in order today - preferably several martinis, with lots of olives.

Surgery, Travel, and March Madness

2008-03-24T11:07:00.010-04:00

Days till Surgery: 7
Days till Old Age: 16

So today marks the beginning of several week's worth of insanity. It also marks the beginning of my downfall in our office's NCAA Bracket, but I'll get to that in a minute.

This week is a whirlwind of last minute preparation before surgery next week, including a few doctor's appointments, making sure my surgeon has Factor 7 on hand (just in case I decide to start bleeding profusely out of embarrassing orifices), finishing the limerick book drawings for my mother's Kindergarten class, packing, pre-op stuff, and traveling. Oh, traveling.

I'm heading up to Boston on Friday night, taking my old standby, Amtrak's Regional Overnight. Some people hate taking the train, and I'll admit that it can be difficult to spend anywhere from 8-12 hours (depending on whether or not there are delays) stuck in one seat, but the way I look at it? I'd much rather be comfortable and on my ass for hours on end, than plummeting out of the sky when a plane has a mechanical failure and crashes to the ground in a massive, fiery explosion. Unless I ended up on the Lost island... hmm...

Now this should cure my fear of flying!

Surgery is on Monday, then it's a week on my ass for recovery/binge eating/chocolate consumption. Then, MOST unfortunately, I do have to fly back on Sunday the 6th. I wanted to take the train, but I feel like 8+ hours on a rumbling, shaking train probably isn't the best way to travel so soon after having surgery. I mean, I'm mobile again after about 3 days, so by that Sunday I'll be feeling much better, but still, I figure it's best not to risk it. I'd be so pissed if I felt good, then got on a train and fucked myself over.

So yes, I'm flying, and I'm taking Jet Blue and I'll probably be on lots and lots of happy pills so I can do it, but oh well. You gotta do what you gotta do.

So I get back on Sunday night, and go back to work on Monday. On Wednesday I turn 23 (speaking of which, I found another gray hair this morning - delightful!) and immediately lapse into a coma of self-despair. Luckily, I'm going to the Celtics game that night, and watching then crush the Wizards (while drinking copious amounts of FREE alcohol in our company's Box Seats) will surely cheer me up. Nothing says "Happy Feelings" like booze and basketball.

¡feliz cumpleaños!

I hope the bar in the Box has Margaritas.

The very next day, I drag my hungover ass out of bed, and roll into yet another Amtrak seat, as I'm whisked away back to Boston for my post-op appointment, and more birthday celebrations. Hopefully by this point I'll be walking with ease, and the train shouldn't hurt too badly. I seriously considered flying back and forth for this weekend, but the idea of flying literally makes me so nervous I want to cry, and since I'm already subjecting myself to it once this month, I decided to risk the train. If the appointment were any earlier, I'd fly, but I lucked out. I think. I hope.

Anyway.

I was hoping that after this weekend's NCAA college basketball games, I would at least have the Office Bracket to cheer me up. As of Round 1, I was firmly in second place in our office, with an impressive score of 44 points (which, okay, was only 2 points more than the person in third place, but that's beside the point.) Well, this morning I added up the points after Round 2, and realized...

...What the fuck, I'm in last damn place! By 4 points! When my boss first announced we were doing a bracket, I didn't even want to participate. Sure, I know the basics of the NCAA; I know who's good and who sucks, I know who's favored to win and who isn't, but I had no burning desire to get caught up in the mayhem of it all, especially considering I'm the only female in my office, and everyone takes it very seriously indeed.

But then I got roped into doing it, and now I'm freaking out about it. We're all getting so competitive it's ridiculous, stooping so low as to count and re-count our tally, even when we all know that everyone in the office has counted each sheet about 20 times. One miscount turned into a massive brouhaha, and I'm not sure I've ever seen a certain co-worker so riled up about, well, anything. It was somewhat impressive.

I will fuck your shit up

At any rate, I now know why they call it March "Madness." Talk about insanity. I'm hoping that UNC continues to kick ass - I have them going all the way, and beating UCLA to take home the title. Of course I had Georgetown in my Final 4, and Davidson kicked their stupid ass, so who knows. As long as UCLA and Memphis keep going, and UNC stays strong, I'll be all set. I better fucking win this bracket - there's not only Nat's tickets on the line, there's my pride.

Pros and Cons of DC

2008-03-21T09:39:00.005-04:00

Days till Surgery: 10

Days till Old Age: 19

Happy Good Friday! Since I'm not sure what Good Friday actually is (is it the day Jesus actually died? And is Easter the day when zombie Jesus comes back to feast on the living? I dunno, I'm a Jew) I decided that my time was better spent today debating the pros and cons of living in our nation's Capital. DC is a... funny city, for a variety of reasons. Read on.

Northwest DC

Pros:

1. DC is a beautiful city
This is mostly true. At least for the Northwest Quadrant and parts of Northeast. The monuments are spectacular, much of the architecture is European and breathtaking, there's a lot of greenery and flowers for an urban setting, the river views are beautiful, and nothing can beat the view of driving in from Arlington, and seeing the city sprawl out in front of you.

2. Springtime in DC is unbeatable
Okay, this I have to admit - DC springs are amazing. The Cherry Blossoms are out in full swing, everything's green and lush, flowers sprout everywhere, and it's gorgeous. Add all the nature into the beauty of the monuments (and all of the midday and midnight monument tours) and it's really something incredible.

3. Action movies and political thrillers are filmed here
Where else would you go to film a movie about the president's son being kidnapped and held for ransom by stereotypical Russian terrorists with names like Hanz Van Evilstein? Some of the biggest, baddest names in Hollywood flock to DC to film against the backdrop of the White House, the Capital, and the other various landmarks that are peppered over the city. Add in the plethora of Ambassadors and foreign officers, and you have yourself a summer blockbuster.

4. It stays warm right through Halloween
This is an important one, because I hate being cold on Halloween. It's the one night of the year when you're expected - even encouraged - to go outside in the skimpiest lingerie imaginable, and no one wants to parade around mostly-naked if the temperature's dipping into the 30's. Spring may be the best time of year in DC, but the fall's damn nice too.

Okay, well, there are my pros. Not very numerous, but certainly good for something. Right? Onward to the cons...

Southeast DC

Cons

1. Paradoxically, DC is also architecturally boring and drab
There's something strange about a city that declares that no building can be as high as the top of the Capital. A lack of sky scrapers sometimes is the kicker to really making you feel like you're not quite in the busting metropolis that you were hoping to be in. And for every monument and pretty garden, there are 50 buildings in the same drab, grayish, creamish color, stretching on and on as far as the eye can see. It gets old fast.

2. Wintertime in DC is brutal
I really expected DC to have a much warmer winter than Boston, and don't get me wrong, it definitely is warmer. By about 10 degrees. So when Boston is 17 degrees, I get the thrill of knowing I can skip to work in... 27 degree weather. Yeah, not quite the huge difference I'd anticipated. And what's brutal about DC is that not only is the cold absolutely biting (and I say this coming from Boston) , the wind is brutal - absolutely brutal. I've never felt anything like it before. I'm assuming part of the problem is the architectural layout of the city, because certain blocks are always horrific wind tunnels while others aren't, but the sheer onslaught of the wind during the winter months is enough to send anyone running to warmer climates.

3. Summertime in DC is equally as brutal
Most people forget that DC was, largely, built on former swamp ground, unless they're unlucky enough to spend a summer in the District. I never spent much of the summer months down here when I was in school, but every trip down made me instantly regret coming. The humidity is so heavy it nearly squashes you, and you can feel it weighing heavily on your shoulders with every step you take. You do lose, like, 10 pounds from sweating all your water weight out, but then you die of dehydration, so it's not entirely a win-win situation.

4. DC is a one trick pony
People go to DC for one reason, and one reason only: Politics. It's why I came here in the first place - like every wide-eyed, innocent student lucky enough to get into Georgetown or GW's Elliot School, I migrated to the Capital to learn International Affairs and Political Science from the best of them. Then I realized several things: I was crap at Economics, I wasn't a rabid crazy political junkie, and I wanted to major in something that would allow me optimal boozing time (aka, English.) Now that I've graduated and I'm actually living here, it's all about the field I'm not in. It was fine in college, because everyone had different majors, and people were still mingling with each other, but the adult populace of our fair city is only interested in yapping on and on about which Senator did this, and which Lobbyist group did that, and what intern's posing for Playboy, etc etc. It gets very old, very fast. Unless you're Eliot Spitzer, and then this place is one hell of a good time.

5. Everyone wants you on their side
Like I mentioned in Wednesday's post, DC is the place to go to stage a protest. You can protest the war, you can protest the President, you can protest women not having the right to choose, you can protest women having the right to choose, you can even protest the government conspiracy that stripped you of you home and money and put tracking devices in your ears (yes, I'm talking about you, that crazy old man outside of the McPherson Square metro station) - you name it, you got it. But that means that for all of the warm months in DC, you have to put up with the crazy screaming, drum banging, and general mayhem of large mobs of people going insane. As awesome as it is the first few times, it gets old fast.

6. Nightlife? Really?
Okay, sure, there are some good nightlife options in DC. Some. But there's not a lot, and after awhile, you get sick of the whole thing. First of all, something like 80% (okay I might be exaggerating) of the city is comprised of gay males, and the rest of the male population is fat, ugly, and thinks they're poised to become the next scandal-buttered Senator. It makes bar hopping kind of a bummer. And when the metro closes at 1am, and the clubs close at 1:30am, not only are you stranded because you can't get home, you're also a shitfaced mess because, you know, everywhere closes so goddamn early that you have to chug the bar down before it's too late. So then you're wasted and stranded, and wake up the next morning in a dumpster behind a Starbucks, wondering what the hell happened, and wondering if there's any coffee still fresh somewhere beneath you.

Okay, so, as you can see, there are good points and bad points to living in DC. Personally, I think the bad outweigh the good. By a LOT. Like, a LOT a lot. I'm not that political (moreso than most people, but nothing compared to the citizens of DC), I hate the cold and the crazy humidity, I'm tired of the East Coast, and I'm ready for one hell of a change. And I think, after reading this, you'll agree with me. Unless you're that homeless dude, cause no matter how many tracking devices and bugs he thinks the government planted in his brain, he's still a loyal citizen, and you can't beat that kind of dedication.