Best Summer Ever

Sucking it Up

2008-09-19T07:18:00.002-05:00

For those of you who have been keeping up with my life outside the blog-o-sphere, you know that I've recently moved. A whopping two blocks. Anyway, buying my first place has had its ups and downs, thrills and panic attacks, well you get the picture. One of the most consistent ups has been my credit card balance and one of the most consistent downs has been my bank balance.

While I've somewhat enjoyed just hemorrhaging huge amounts of cash on the new place, furnishings, etc, reality has started to set in that binge spending is not going to be a sustainable way of life considering the mortgage payment, condo payment, etc.

This is the state that I was in when I was at Lowes with Pam, standing in front of a display of vacuums. I had bought some lovely area rugs, which were starting to look not so lovely. I needed a vacuum. As I stood there looking at the ten different models while my mother expounded on the finer points of bag vs. non-bag and completely trashed the roomba (apparently my cousin got one and it sucked*) I realized that I really didn't care about the model or type of vacuum, but more about the fact that it would just be another blip in a long line of blips on my Amex.

I put my mother off by saying, 'I'm not mentally ready to buy a vacuum today. I need to think about this".

Anyway, I found the perfect solution to my little problem. I recently joined FreeCycle, which is a yahoo email group devoted to recycling. So, I posted a "WANTED: Vacuum Cleaner" email to the group and anxiously awaited a reply from someone who had an extra vacuum to give me.
This is how I met Brandon. Brandon for some inexplicable reason had not one, not two, but three vacuums that he had no use for. I'm not sure really what the back story is on the whole thing, but it's pretty safe to say that he had a lot to give. After a few phone conversations where I would politely say, "No, I will just take one" and trying to figure out a time for us to meet where the handoff could take place, I found myself driving through northeast to a strange address to pick up the vacuum of my dreams. I got the sense that Brandon sort of wanted to be home to meet the person who would be taking his vacuum(s). Over the course of our phone conversations, he definitely said, "Well, I'd like to be there to greet you". Unfortunately, due to some logistical issues, we settled on me just doing a porch pick-up, which I was fine with, because in all honesty, I just wanted a vacuum, not new friends or potential serial killers** at the door to greet me.

Before he gave me his address, Brandon provided a very thorough overview of my options. There was the blue one, which had superb sucking power, but was a little bit heavy. The yellow one just sucked and didn't work, and the grey one was a standard vacuum, but it had a lot of nifty hoses and attachments.

For those of you who have never had the experience, there is something very unnatural about walking up to a strange house and taking a vacuum off the front porch. I felt almost fugitive like as I wheeled the blue vacuum down the sidewalk back to my car.

Me and ole' blue (as I am calling the new vacuum) are doing just fine and my area rugs couldn't be cleaner. I only hope that through the magic of free cycle, blue's brothers (Gray and Yellow) also find good homes.

*Just a little vacuum related humor in case you missed it. Apparently, the roomba isn't that great of a vacuum. I have no knowledge of its sucking power. I think the issue is more related to the fact it just spins in circles.
**Note: This is added for dramatic effect. I have no knowledge of the rate of serial killers among recyclers. I would imagine its low, but then again, that's probably what recycling serial killers would like you to believe. I do not believe that Brandon was a serial killer luring young homeowners with his recycled vacuums. That would be pretty messed up.

Customer service*

2008-09-08T11:37:00.008-05:00

I needed a little extra caffeine to get me through the first day of the workweek this morning, so I stopped in a Starbucks for a latte. Clearly, I needed this coffee more than I even knew, because one of my co-workers would later inform me that I had walked right by her on my way in without even noticing.

I digress. As I stood there waiting for my drink to be made, I decided to pass the time by reading the comments written about the "Barista of the Day." I learned that she enjoys riding her bike to work and going out to Latin night clubs, and that she is a student at American University. Then I happened to glance at her coffee recommendation for the day … "Tall Coffee!" A drink that isn't even made by the barista, but rather by the cashier. In other words, "Leave me alone. I'm planning my night out at the club, and don't have time to make your triple shot, extra hot, non-fat macchiato … or whatever else ridiculously complicated beverage you may want to order."

Hilarious. Thanks, Jessica, for your commitment to customer service.

Travel*

2007-12-23T07:51:00.000-05:00

Holiday travel is always a series of offenses, especially airport security. Between removing your shoes, clothes, liquids, laptops, and being screamed at to never let your boarding pass leave your hand the entire time, you can't help but feel like you are some sort of livestock.

(An aside to TSA. I know I have to walk through the metal detector with my boarding pass in my hand so the person on the other side of the metal detector will see I have a boarding pass even though it was checked about 10 seconds ago. Everyone knows this. This is how things have been since the beginning of time - it was carved on the tablet that Moses brought down from the mountain - I want to say it was number 8? However, I usually slip it in my pocket so I can do the thirty things I need to do to go through security in the allotted five seconds I have before the 600 people behind me get murderous. So, if you don't happen to see it in my hand as I am swearing quietly under my breath trying to separate out a non-threatening amount of liquids and gels, don't you worry, I haven't forgot it. There is no need to constantly scream at me to keep it out. If I had a third arm, I would, but I don't. So let's just try to be a little bit cooler about this alright?)

On the plane, I started talking to a woman with a baby. She was obviously of Arab descent, she had a black robe that covered her entire body with the exception of her face. As little Abdul (his actual name, I said they were Arab remember?) cooed and smiled at me, she told me about her time with airport security.

TSA insisted on checking INSIDE the babies diaper. That's right, the baby who somehow managed to make it through the metal detector with his mother and boarding pass could somehow be packing heat in his diaper. This woman was obviously racially profiled, and because she wanted to get on her flight, she had to comply. I do not know if disrobing babies is standard practice, but this was the first I had every heard of it.

Abdul, being 10 months old, which sort of gives him a pass from reasoning like an adult decided that he did not have to comply.

So when the TSA agent opened his diaper, he started PEEING. All over her.

"Can't you control this?' the agent asked his mother. She answered, "I do, by putting a diaper on him. He's 10 months old, what do you expect?". Even though I wasn't there (and oh my how I wish I was, because I think I would have laughed to the point of wetting myself a little bit), I like to think that little Abdul wasn't just peeing on TSA for himself, but a little bit for all of us who have had to deal with the indignities of a crazed security agency with its rules that at times, make absolutely no sense.

*I have to say though, after flying in Europe, our security policies seem like they are rolling out the red carpet.

Hitched*

2007-11-20T08:00:00.000-05:00

Congratulations to my sister and pal Laney for getting hitched last weekend! She married Cal (aka. Doug, David, etc, etc). Although no one knew what to call the groom, it was a great time and I had a lot of fun hanging out with some old, but very dear, friends. Plus, at the very end of the wedding, the last song is what is best described as a group sing a long of "Total Eclipse of the Heart", which seemed very appropriate at the time, but in retrospect is sort of confusing.

Here is a picture of the lovely bride and her lovely bridesmaids:

Peter*

2007-11-05T21:00:00.000-05:00

Question.

In a town full of Suits, how does one get away with wearing green sweatpants out in public?

Answer.

Why, you dress up as the Family Guy for Halloween, of course!

Halloween*

2007-11-02T14:58:00.000-05:00

As much as I love DC, sometimes she can be a royal bitch. There have been some completely utterly unforgivable things that the District has done to me lately, which I will carry in my bitter bitter heart until my dying day. Despite all of this, I decided that this Halloween I would extend an olive branch, in hopes of a possible reconciliation with my fair city at some point in the future.

That's right, for Halloween, I was a DC tourist. You know, the slow moving folks who cram our city each summer, dressed completely inappropriately for the weather conditions, stopping every few feet to determine if they are walking in the right direction, and pumping much needed cash into our t-shirt industry? I like to think of tourists as somewhat of a blessing. They provide us natives a glimpse into what the rest of the country lives like.

Sure, we go and see our families and friends for weekends here and there, but they are quick trips, and we all breathe a sigh of relief when the plane touches back down and we're home. That's where the tourists come in. They bring the rest of the world to us, so we don't have to leave DC, with its picturesque marble buildings, glorious national mall, and somewhat useful public transportation system. The tourists are here to remind us that the entire rest of the world moves at an infuriatingly kinder gentler pace than DC, and the importance of standing to the right and walking to the left.

Anyway, last Saturday, I ventured out to purchase my costume. I decided to walk (yes, walk) to the National Mall. Anyway, as a service to all of you out there who may at some point wish to purchase a DC t-shirt or have guests that wish to purchase a DC t-shirt, here is a brief overview of the DC themed merchandise (aka "crap") that our city has to offer:

Independence Ave - This side of the mall isn't really worth your time. After walking for a while, I found a t-shirt stand crammed behind USDA. Here I purchased my FBI visor and T-shirt for a whopping $9. I asked the woman behind the counter if they had beltpacks, and she looked at me in all seriousness and said, "No".

Having not seen anything else, I decided to try my luck on.....

Constitution Ave - There are definitely a lot more t-shirt stands through here, and they offer a little bit more variety than the one on the Independence side of the mall. The salespeople were exceedingly helpful and after I bought a lanyard, the one guy tried to upsell me on a matching coffee mug.

After hitting up three stands, and not finding a single beltpack, it was time to get serious. I remembered that there were some shops over by Fords Theatre, so I headed up in to Northwest to….

The shop on the corner of 10th and E - This was more of an emporium type feel, where you could buy an Old Town Trolley tour. The story was spacious, clean, and definitely had the most variety. Here I bought a scrunchie and a "I vote democratic" pin. There was also a fitting room, so that you could make sure that the $7 t-shirt you were buying was worth the money. My favourite thing in this store, that I almost purchased, was a mug that said 'Desperate Whitehouse Wife" and had a likeness of Laura Bush on it. There were some free maps and pamphlets that I picked up next to the register to complete my costume, but I have to say that this store was a little bit more expensive, and you had to pay tax on your purchases. They didn't have beltpacks.

Lincolns Souvenir Shop - I'm sure that one of our greatest presidents would be rotating in his grave like a rotisserie chicken if he knew that there was a Lincoln themed souvenir store right next to the house that he died in, but I put my principles aside, this was Halloween, and I had to find a costume. Anyway, the Lincoln shop was smaller and dingier, but they had a lot more unique t-shirts and a wide selection of sock monkeys, which was more confusing than anything else. I decided to pass on the sock monkeys and since I already had a t-shirt, I headed up the street to …

The Shop on the Other Side of the House Where Lincoln Died - This shop didn't have a presidential themed name, but they had an exceptionally helpful woman who took a break from her t-shirt folding to show me where the belt packs were. Granted, they only sold children's belt packs, but she did not hesitate to rip open the package pull the strap all the way out, and throw it around my waist. And with that level of "hands around my waist" service, she won the sale.

So, to draw this post to a close, here is the final product. Pretty damn good for $20:

Crepes*

2007-10-14T19:56:00.000-05:00

I want to start this post by saying that I like Bob Evans. I've always liked Bob Evans. As a child, my sister and I affectionately referred to it as "Blob Evans". My freshman year of college, a certain Cowboy and I would go there for breakfast on the weekends. We would pick up a copy of the Columbus Dispatch and spend a good hour and a half slurping down coffee, eggs, and spreading the paper all over the table. He would read Sports and Local News, I would read Style and National News.

Sophomore, Junior, and Senior year of college, I would occasionally go there with girlfriends after a night of drinking to take the edge off my hangover. When I was home from college, Bob Evans was the perfect place to meet my grandma for a quick breakfast because it was directly between my parents house and her house. I would go to Bob's with my friend Carrie on the rare (and extremely joyous) occasion that our morning class was cancelled.

Granted, I'm not as big of a fan as Ph, who actually inquired and looked into travelling to the Homestead (located in Rio Grande, Ohio if you are interested), but I think that the above paragraph demonstrates that I've been a fairly loyal, if not frequent customer.

This past weekend, while taking a break from the Book Fairs and went to good ole Blob's for some greasy breakfastey goodness. Anyway, I had been up and around for a while, and since I had a few more book fairs to hit up, I decided that I should probably go for something that wouldn't completely slow me down like the standard Blob's fare.

I decided to get some crepes. Maybe it's because I've seen one too many freakin' ihop commercials and they've somehow embedded themselves in my subconscious, or maybe it's because I was on such a book high that I completely lost all judgement, but somehow I found myself saying to our very perky waitress, "I'll have the raspberry crepes".

Now, as much as I've loved Bob's (and yes, we're at the point where I can affectionately refer to Mr. Evans as "Bob"), I should have known that Bob's would have a certain degree of difficulty making a flavourful, yet delicate French breakfast item.

Before I had time to ponder all of this, they arrived. Underneath the whipped cream, and raspberry pie filling, there were indeed what looked like crepes.

I took a bite.

Sugary.

I took a second taste.

Really sweet.

My third bite is when my teeth started to hurt.

I was pretty sure that I had developed Type II diabetes by my fourth bite.

My fifth and sixth bites were total blurs as the sugar raced through my bloodstream and my head started to spin, and I started to rock back and forth slightly in my seat. Ph probably noticed that I was talking a little bit faster as we discussed Beanie Babies, Boyd's Bears, and Precious Moments figurenes.

Now that I've come down from the sugar high (and yes, it took a day or two), one question remains..... Bob, why have thou forsaken me? Why would you do what you what you did to something so delicious in the first place??

Booked*

2007-10-14T19:25:00.000-05:00

Those of you who know me well know that I have a little bit of a book problem… to put it mildly. Despite the fact that I tend to neglect my other blog, I spent a lot of time reading, scouring Amazon for good deals on used books, and when there is a lull in the conversation… you guessed it, I talk about what I'm reading.

Saturday, I had a chance to indulge my inner nerd in a way that hasn't come along since grade school. Remember the grade school book fairs? Shelves and shelves of inexpensive books as far as the eye could see? Ahhh... nirvana.... Saturday, I attended not one, but TWO book fairs. Apparently, they still have them for adults.

The first was the Montgomery Public Library with Ph, and the second was a sale at the State Department with a brief detour to Bob Evans and then the two story DSW in Rockville. For a whopping $27, I picked up the following titles:

- Les Miserables
- Wurthington Heights
- Jane Eyre
- On Human Bondage
- Their Eyes were Watching God
- Oracle Security Handbook
- Dave Barry does Japan
- One Year Off
- Frankenstein
- Things Fall Apart
- Politically Correct Bedtime Stories
- The Underground Guide to Unix
- Kim
- Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant

As you can see, quite the eclectic mix. So far I've read "Dave Barry Does Japan", which literally had me laughing at loud at parts. Granted, it's a bit dated, but some of the comedic essence remains… jokes about George Bush throwing up on Japanese officials in 1992 are still funny in my book. And Dave Barry's.
* If you get a chance, I suggest you check out the State Department book fair. It goes until next weekend.

DC'd*

2007-10-02T21:59:00.000-05:00

Living in the District, you come to expect certain things: conversations surrounding politics, fines for jaywalking, the inability to register a vehicle, the occasional rodent wandering the streets (or in my case, inside my house). But every now and again, despite knowing what to expect, you find yourself getting DC'd.

And this past Saturday, I found myself getting DC'd. Over and over and over again.

It started off innocently enough. I awoke in my aunt and uncle's home in Ballston eager to head back over to the Hill to partake in my Saturday morning yoga ritual. (note: I took a temporary break from my Cap Hill home following the fumigator visit on Thursday to let nature takes it course…more on this later.) The class begins promptly at 10, so I leave adequate time to drive (gasp!) the twenty minutes it takes to get home. Seems as though most of the World had the same plan in mind as I approached what appeared to be a parking lot extending from 66E to 110S to 395N to my exit. Instead of the twenty minutes I anticipated, which would cause me to arrive at yoga just in time for it to begin, I spent the hour-long class in my car on 395N. Talk about getting DC'd. Nothing like bumper to bumper traffic heading into the city on a non-workday morning.

Having missed the entire class and now extremely frustrated for spending an hour and a half increasing my carbon impact on the environment, I decided I would make up for it by enjoying the beautiful 80-degree autumn(?) day. I walked on over to the Capitol and when I got there, I pulled a Forrest Gump and kept on going. As I made my way down the Mall, I was instantly surrounded by mobs and mobs of families (presumably from the mobs and mobs of cars on 395 N that morning). And the tents! So many tents! Turns out, my innocent walk landed me smack dab in the middle of being DC'd again! How typical. A festival on the Mall. Tis the National Book Festival time of year, and the crowds were certainly out for this one. I strolled in and out of tents to find unrecognizable famed authors, costumed characters from children books, Harry Potter fanatics, and the Magic School Bus (to my dismay, no sight of Ken Kesey & his Merry Pranksters on this one). Once I saw what there was to see, I received my free tote bag and commemorative poster and continued on down the Mall.

I walked over to the Lincoln Memorial, stared up at Abe, and then it occurred to me that it had been awhile since I had spent a good amount of time at the Jefferson Memorial. So, I walked around the Tidal Basin and eventually found myself in a very non-DC'd moment-- the Jefferson Memorial was nearly empty. The way I like to remember the Jefferson Memorial is crammed full of tourists non-stop sneezing and itching their eyes out from the Cherry Blossom Festival (it always goes back to a festival here).

I took a short break at the desolate memorial, and eventually turned around to head back home. Off I went down Independence, unsuspecting of the ultimate DC'd moment that was upon me. As I approached 7th Street, I was faced head-on with anti-war protestors. And, I must say, those protestors have quite the catchy chants, especially when it's coupled with the steady rhythm of a bongo drum. For the remainder of the day, I had their catchy phrases ringing in my head:
"Whadda we want?"
"TROOPSOUTNOW!"
"When do we want it?"
"NOW!"
"Whadda we want?"
"TROOPS! OUT!"
"When do we want it?
"NOW!"

And now it's stuck in my head again.

Anyhow, I had to make it across 7th Street to make it home, but the protestors kept pushing onward, blocking the entire street. What was I to do other than join the masses? Even when the masses include an elderly fellow wearing a Devil costume, holding a red pitchfork, and covering his face with a President Bush mask. Hmmm, I wonder what message he was trying to convey? What a cryptic man.

So I said a little prayer, took a deep breath, and embarked on a real life game of Frogger as I stepped one foot forward, one foot right, one foot forward, one foot left, and so on, until I made it safely across the street. It's true, on Saturday, September 29, I inadvertently joined a war protest for one or two of the longest minutes of my life.

As I was finally on the homestretch, I called my friend and neighbor, Kelli, to see if she wanted to meet up and hear about my DC'd-up day. We decide to meet up over on Barracks Row, and what do you know, it was celebrating it's very first Octoberfest. Need I say it? DC'd again.

*DC'd: Just when you think you know what to expect from this town, it continues to amaze you with how it lives up to its stereotypes.

Dublin*

2007-10-01T13:01:00.001-05:00

Greetings from Dublin!

We made it over here after an almost missed horrible horrible flight on Ryan Air. Ireland is an awesome country - everyone here is so smiley and happy all of the time and I'm pretty sure the fact that there is a pub on every block has something to do with it.

In the day and a half that we've been in Dublin we have done many things! Here is a brief overview:

- Guinness Brewery Tour - saw how they make the stout and learned that the main ingredients are as follows: barley, hops, water, yeast. I took good notes during the tour and am looking forward to attempting to brew my own when I get home. Afterwards, we enjoyed a fresh complementary beer at the 'Gravity Bar' at the top of the complex.

- Jameson Distillery Tour - Kenn was an official taste tester at the end of the tour, which was very interesting, especially because they gave you a few free cocktails at the end.

- Dublin Ghost Tour - Did this last night. They took us around to all sorts of creepy graveyards and we learned about the spooky side of Dublin. I'm not much of a believer in ghosts, but some of the pictures that showed up on peoples cameras were really freaky. Like half of the tour group, our camera didn't work.

- St. Patricks Cathedral - St. Patrick brought Christianity to modern day Ireland. We got to walk through the garden which was the site where St. Patrick would baptize people. The church was very pretty, and obviously very historic.

- Book of Kells - This Bible was scribed circa 800 BC. It was astonishing to see how intricate the inscriptions and drawings were given the age of this book. Also, got to check out the Long Hall in the Trinity College library which was completely breathtaking. I think that it would be breaktaking to those of you out there who aren't book nerds such as myself.

Anyway, we're off to find a pub and down a few more pints. Tomorrow its back to London and then home.

Bath*

2007-09-27T14:41:00.000-05:00

Today, we took the train to the city of Bath, which is approximately 12 miles away from Bristol and takes exactly 12 minutes via the train. (They take the timing of trains very seriously here) I purchased our train tickets at 3:27 and somehow, by a stroke of luck, pedestrians who saw us barreling through and knew to jump out of the way, and a wee bit of frantic sprinting, we managed to make the 3:30 pm train to Bath.

After arriving in Bath at 3:42 pm exactly (again, they don't mess with the timing of the trains), we located the hotel and went to the old ruins of the Roman Baths which were built approximately 2000 years ago. The baths were really cool and it struck me how advanced the Romans were. A part of it also made me sad, because its the same old story of an overly decandant society which ultimately fell to its demise. In unrelated news, our dollars are trading about 2 to 1, which causes me a bit of mental anguish everytime I mentally double the price of something in my head.

We had both thrown our bathing suits in our bags, but apparently, you can't actually bathe in the Baths anymore. The only thing that you can do is look at them. There are even signs which caution not to stick your hands in the water, or slip on the rocks into the water, but I couldn't resist dipping my hand into the slimy green mess that was the water to see how hot it was. To be honest, the water was so warm, the stonework so pretty, and the whole area so incredably impressive, and it was so miserable and cold out, I had a very strong desire to throw on my swimsuit and languish in the steaming hot spring water.

I resisted the urge and found refuge in a pub where I had fish and chips for dinner and a nice big beer. I'm hoping the rest of the trip won't be this cold and rainy.

Stonehenge*

2007-09-27T05:42:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, I took a tour with Mad Max out to Stonehenge. Now, various people I had met along the trip so far had less than rave reviews about Stonehenge, however I thought it was AWESOME. It was so cool to see! I mean, you can't really argue with the coolness factor of something that was constructed over 5000 years ago, now can you?

Anyway, after that, the tour bus took us through the English countryside, where I saw the actual Salsbury Hill (think Peter Gabriel), and a little village called Lacock, which is part of the English National Trust. The village has four streets and 180 people live there. As part of a living history of England, it's oftentimes used for movies - parts of Harry Potter and Sense and Sensibility were filmed there.

This afternoon we head over to Bath, then back to London, and after that to Dublin for a few days, and then its back home.

Ghost*

2007-09-25T05:53:00.000-05:00

After an extremely sleepless night, I am pretty convinced that our hotel in bristol is haunted. To start, it is a very old looking building that looks as if though ghosts would like to hang around. In addition to that, the following occurred....

at 1 am, we heard the sound of water running in the bathroom
at 3 am, the fire alarm in just our room went off and then turned off 2 minutes later
at 4.30 am, the television turned itself on

Freaky, huh?

I am starting to think that some ghosts from the Tower of London may have followed me here.

Cheerio*

2007-09-24T04:11:00.000-05:00

Greetings from Merry Olde England! We made it here safely after a long daytime flight. Granted we've only spent one day here, but I have some initial observations to post:

- It's really hard not to giggle at 11 pm when you get on the tube after a long long flight and they announce, ' This is the picadilly line to cockfosters. Please mind the gap '
- They love them some Princess Diana at Kensignton Gardens and Palace
- Chorzio is sort of gross
- Traveling in a foriegn country where they speak the same language as you is unBELIVEably easier than traveling in one where they don't.

Yesterday was pretty much spent in Hyde Park - we wandered around to Speakers Corner, the Rose Garden, and then did Kensignton Palace and Gardens as well. There was a side trip / dragging to Harrods (don't think my travel buddy was all that excited about going to a big department store), and then we went to a pub and watched the 'football' match and had some dinner with his cousin. In an unrelated very odd note, his cousin's girlfriend was born in williamsville, went to OU, lived in Columbus, then DC and now lives in England. (is this a sign I of where I will be going next??)

All in all not a bad start to the trip. Today, we see the Tower of London and then catch a train to Bristol. There has also been a slight program change... after really thinking about it and realizing that we spent pretty much an entire day in Hyde Park and that there is a lot more in London that we haven't even hit up yet, Iceland isn't really looking like it's in the cards considering that nothing has been booked at all. We've decided to subsitute it for a closer island nation that begins with 'I' instead.....

Charity

2007-09-12T09:03:00.000-05:00

I consider myself to be a relatively charitable person. In the past four years, I've lit the night, I've slung beers for kidneys, I've taken pride in America, I handed out gifts at a cancer gala, and relayed for life among others.

Anyway, despite all of my charitable activities, I've decided that it's time that I really start giving back to a metro area which has already taken so much. This is why I am proud to announce the:

KIMBERLY BICYCLE AWAY FOUNDATION FOR HOPE

That's right. For the past three years, one bicycle that was in my possession, bought by my hard earned money has been generously "donated" to a self serving individual in the DC metro area. As with the previous two years, once again, my own generosity surprised me, when I returned to my apartment to discover that the 2007 recipient had come to claim their bicycle and ride it off into the bowels of southeast, southwest, northeast, northwest, Virginia, or Maryland.

I'm sure that my bicycle went to a very deserving man/woman/child who needed a diamond back hybrid to ride/sell for crack money/dump/give as a gift understands that despite the initial resistance to losing my THIRD bicycle to this area, that deep down inside, I am a truly charitable person. I like to think that the subsequent screaming, crying, swearing, and overwhelming urge to kick a small puppy was only because I truly wanted them to know what sort of a sacrifice I was making for them to enjoy "my" bicycle.

And I'm sure that they didn't mind all my hysterical "don't buy this bike if you see it" postings on Craigslist were only in hopes that they would identify themselves to me, so that I could contact properly tell them how much I appreciated the fact that they didn't wait for me to give away the bike, but rather came and "claimed" it themselves, making my charity very efficient.

Anyway, I'm sure that some of you have seen this Washington Post article. It turns out that many of us out there operate these sort of "charities" with our generosity level varying from year to year. I'm thinking if we all band together in some way, we can really make a difference for the poor/privledged/down on their luck/random punks/crackheads in this area who have the moral flexibility to understand that things that don't belong to them, actually on some level, do belong to them, as evidenced by my charitable "givings" in 2005, 2006, and now, 2007.

Ps. If the 2007 recipient is reading this, can you at least write me a receipt to include as a charitable deduction in my taxes? Why don't you come right back to where you "picked up" the bike and I can truly express my feelings for you?

Rescued*

2007-09-05T21:41:00.000-05:00

The year was 1992. My family was in the midst of our traditional summer vacation to Lakeside on Lake Erie. Lakeside, the exact locale of said vacation, was a quaint, remote town approximately one-half hour from the famous roller-coaster mecca of Cedar Point.

We stayed in a cottage near the Lake and when not playing a mean game of shuffleboard, the majority of our time was spent in, on, and around the water. And by “water,” I mean the water on the left side of the dock. The dock darted out about 100-yards into the Lake, and all of the children swimming about the left side of the dock were being monitored by lifeguards as well as frenzied parents.

And that’s fun for awhile. But every now and again, you need a little adventure. You need excitement. You need, well, freedom.

So, my younger sister, our two friends, and I embarked on what will be referred to as the Great Escape of 1992. We went to the local tour shop and each purchased a black innertube to set sail on (gasp!) the right side of the dock. We headed on over to the Lake and when we approached the dock, we made a sharp right turn toward the rocks. We scurried on down the rocks until we hit water and with our innertubes afloat, away we went. When we approached the end of the dock, we kept on floating. Now we were twice the length of the dock out into Lake Erie and oblivious to the speed boats flying by our preteen bodies. Yet we keep on trucking. Where, we don’t know, but one thing is for certain, nobody knew we were gone.

So we thought.

As we continued to float, a familiar boat rapidly approached us, and offered a ride back to the rocks. But what is independent about that? Besides, at the ripe age of 12, I knew better than to take a ride from strangers. Especially if it was an enormous boat full of men twice my age. Wearing nothing but swim trunks. Well, turns out the boat looked familiar because the side of it broadcasted the U.S. Coast Guard.

Well, we paddled our proud selves back to the rocks, Coast Guard en route. And the closer we came to the rocks, the more we recognized the familiar faces awaiting our arrival on the rocks. Our parents. And cousins. And aunts. And uncles. And sister. And not a one shared the same look of excitement that we exhibited. In fact, their faces revealed more of a look of fear. Of disapproval. Of “I hope you enjoyed this day because it may be your last.” We made our way up the rocks, greeted my parents, and before welcoming us back to land, my father slashed our tires.

And of our numerous family vacations throughout my 20-something years, that memory is one of the most vivid.

Fast forward to September 2007. My sisters, their husbands, and one of my best friends from college (Ece) are vacationing down in Turks and Caicos. And slowly but surely, history repeated itself. Keeping active on the beach, Ece and I had swam, snorkled, and kayaked on Day 1. But we had approached the time to venture out to Sea (the Caribbean Sea, that is) on a catamaran. And similar to my experience in 1992, my family members were keeping a close eye on me.

Only this time, with a camera. See for yourself:

Ece: Let's take an afternoon trip on the catamaran!

Me: Great idea! Have you ever been?

Ece: No, but I took sailing lessons last summer in Chicago.

Me: Besides, it seems like it's common sense. (Just like tubing in Lake Erie, no?)

Younger sis: Uh oh. Do you see what is going on down there?

Older sis: Oh no. Here we go again.

Both: HUSBANDS!

Me: Oh no. Look who they've sent for us.

Ece: Time to take it up a notch.

Both: Muh-wah-ah-ah.

And the sea was angry that day.....

And just like 1992, the rescue boat comes after us. And just like 1992, when it approached us, we calmly told him we had everything under control.

Elvis*

2007-08-26T21:59:00.000-05:00

Okay. To say we post infrequently is an understatement. But please try to understand. We continue to set out and try to have the Best Summer Ever in the Nation's capital, but every now and again, we are required to attempt to have one in another location. And for a little while, that has been the case for me.

Where is this mysterious exotic locale I speak of?

Why, it's Memphis, Tennessee. And from the looks of it, I can report that they love three things: (1) barbecue, (2) the heat, and above all, (3) the King.

Memphis barbecue. Depending on where you go, you will find the quintessential Memphis barbecue ranging anywhere from wet ribs, made with a mild, sweet barbecue sauce that's basted on the ribs before and after smoking to dry-rub ribs, made with a spice rub applied during or right after they've been cooked to simply a pulled or chopped pork sandwich topped with sweet, finely chopped coleslaw, served on the most inexpensive hamburger bun to be found. Whatever the case, they LOVE barbecue. Even the airport limits its vendors to serving barbecue (the exception being Starbucks, of course). Did I mention that I do not eat four-legged animals? Yeah. I am one of the few people in my entire company that would not absolutely love to eat Memphis barbecue for breakfast, lunch, an afternoon snack, dinner, and I am selected to spend the next several months taking in all things pulled, basted, and smoked to perfection.

The heat. What can I say? It has been a true joy experiencing the type of weather meteorologists dream of reporting. For the past couple weeks, I have had the thrilling opportunity of stepping outside into yet another record breaking 105-110 degrees. I believe I have actually reached the point where I welcome the cool (?) DC summer.

Elvis, Mr. Presley, The King. What does Memphis like more than barbecue? Elvis. When I was told I would be travelling to Memphis, there was really one thing, or should I say man, I was excited to see. That man is the King. And this is not because I am a crazed fan, but I do realize the influence this man had on music, dancing, society, and above all, sideburns.

In case you hadn't heard, August 16, 2007 marked the 30-year anniversary of the King's death. And where was I on this monumental day? Memphis. Well, me along with countless Elvi. It was nearly impossible to get a hotel room as all rooms were booked for Elvis Week. And the moment I stepped off the plane, the fun began.

I saw "young-pre-uppers-and-downers Elvis" in a leather jacket at the baggage claim. Then, the next day at lunch, I saw "later-years-and-touring-in-Hawaii Elvis" clad in a Hawaiian shirt. Then, the following night after dinner, I was out on Beale Street, and I saw "if-he-is-indeed-alive-he-probably-looks-like-this Elvis." Only this time, not only did I see Elvis, but I was committed to taking a photo to prove to all the doubters that The King LIVES! So, he got down on one knee, I took a seat, and in all his white jumpsuit glory, I had my picture taken with him. Oh, Elvis, you're such a devil in disguise…

Tainted*

2007-07-19T16:40:00.000-05:00

Let me set the stage.

I work on a client in the District. When I'm thirsty for a refreshing glass of water, I have two options: (1) Risk drinking DC tap water from one of the many drinking fountains, or (2) Pay dues to become a member of the Water Club. I chose the latter. As a member of the Water Club, I have unlimited access to a water cooler filled with fresh, clean, non-DC, filtered water. It is worth the $5 monthly dues to know that every sip I take does not come fortified with minerals, such as lead and rocket fuel.

Well, since I have been traveling for work and not physically present at said client, I was not able to pay July dues for the Water Club. Upon returning to the client this week, as the temperature climbed near 100-degrees, the Water Club Manager was not around to collect the dues, so I was not permitted to drink from the cooler. I figured I would make due and resort to other beverages to get me through the week. Everything went as planned, until yesterday. I was dying for a glass of water. And not a 16.9 oz bottle, I wanted to fill my entire 32 oz Nalgene.

I had quite the dilemma on my hands. I could not risk drinking from the Club's water cooler if I had not paid my monthly dues. But could I really risk drinking from the DC water fountain? Wellllll, I decided to throw in the towel and go for it. I headed over to the nearby fountain and topped off my 32 oz bottle. Then, I added a little Green Tea To Go mixture to mask the taste, and I was good to go.

As I gulped down the last drop, I knew it was worth the risk.

Until I picked up the Express this morning. On the front page, staring right back at me:

Mumu*

2007-07-19T13:34:00.000-05:00

Before I left for vacation, several coworkers said, “Make sure you relax while you are gone”. Friends told me to “get some rest”.

When I arrived in Hawaii, in addition to “aloha”, people here have also told me to “hang loose”. Fortunately, the national dress of Hawaii is very conducive to hanging loose. I’m not talking about bikini’s, mini-skirts, or shorts and t-shirts… I’m talking about the ultimate outfit in relaxation… the mumu.

Made of approximately 7 yards of fabric that has the consistency of a shopping bag, the mumu’s "size" is primarily determined by how big the neck hole is. Brightly colored, the mumu screams “I am relaxing” or, “I am wearing a tent”.

After receiving a nasty sunburn (I blame Sheila for the incorrect application of the SPF 50), I decided that I really needed clothes that would really allow me to relax, but not necessarily touch my body. My mom got into the act as well, and we decided that we needed to buy some mumu’s to start the vacation off right.

We headed over to the Honolulu International Market Place where you can buy anything imaginable as long as it is Hawaiian print. One of the first stands that we came across was Larry’s. Larry had mumu’s as far as the eye could see and was very keen on putting the two of us in mumu’s.

Part of his sales approach was flattery. To me he said, “Oh, you need a medium mumu. You’re very sexy”, to which I replied, “Keep in clean Larry, my mom is right here”. Anyway, while I was selecting the perfect color, my mom drove a hard bargain, making sure that Larry gave us a fair price as Larry stammered his apologies for making inappropriate comments about her eldest daughter.

After a few short minutes, cash changed hands, and my mom and I are the proud owners of hot pink mumu’s. The mumu is really the ideal outfit - with the consistency of a shopping bag, anything you spill just tends of roll off of the fabric. They are lightweight and airy. They are perfect for even the most conservative dresser, as they leave lots to the imagination, showing only a teeny bit of leg, which drives the guys like Larry wild. My Dad and sister are ashamed to be seen with us in public, but I am pretty sure that their crankiness is a result of clothing which is too constrictive.

The more I think about it, the mumu would really be perfect for DC. As a whole, the city dresses rather conservatively and is sweltering hot in the summer. So really, what we need is an urban outfit that keeps you cool and doesn’t reveal much skin… perhaps the Urban Mumu?

1941*

2007-07-17T12:40:00.000-05:00

There aren't many people around who still remember where they were on December 7, 1941, because most of us weren't alive back then. But, in the words of FDR, it was a day that will live in infamy. That's right, December 7, 1941 is when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, starting the United States involvement in World War II. Until 2001, it was the only attack on the US in modern history.

Yesterday, we headed out to Pearl Harbor to visit the monument. The National Park service has a short video showing some old timey footage and then the Navy ferry you out to the harbor where the monument is located.

That's right, a ferry. The monument isn't accessible via land. The National Park Service and the Navy run ferries out so that people can visit the monument. Tickets are restricted, so only a mere 3,000 people a day are allowed to visit the actual sight.

Now you may be asking yourself, "why is the monument in the middle of the harbor?". It turns out that the monument is actually built on the sunken USS Arizona, one of the biggest battle ships to go down in the attack. So, as you are out walking around the monument, you can look down into the water and see the battleship. The flag flying over the monument is actually on the mast of the sunken ship.

Now, living in DC for the past four years, I've visited many a monument. Some may even go as far as to say that I am a monument snob, and I wouldn't argue with them. In my humble opinion, as far as National Monuments go, Pearl Harbor is one of the most striking, because unlike the monuments in DC which are manufactured to commemorate history, this monument was built because history actually occurred there.

Aloha*

2007-07-16T00:09:00.000-05:00

Greetings from Oahu, Hawai'i. Yes, that's right, my immediate family is taking a vacation to Mom and Dad's timeshare in Hawaii for the next week. I arrived yesterday, and I have a few reflections as I am wrapping up my first 24 hours in one of the most remote states. We had to fill out customs forms saying we weren't bringing outside fruit into the state (I am not making this up). That's how remote it is.

Upon arriving in Honolulu International Airport, I learned the following things:

1. The orchid lei's you see/ hear about that they put around your neck when you arrive make you break out into hives
2. And secondly, most importantly, "aloha". Aloha is a term that technically means "Hello" and "Goodbye". It also is used in a more general sense to convey "You are now in Hawaii". Just in case you happen to repress the fourteen hours of travel that it took you to get here, which involved a never ending flight from Houston and a screaming child which at some point caused me to lean over to my co-passenger and say "I don't remember my existence before I got on this plane" to which he frantically whispered back "I think we were in Houston", there it is "Aloha".

For example, today, we took the bus passing the Aloha Saturn car dealership, crossing Aloha Drive, navigating between the cars whose plates say "the Aloha State", zipping past Aloha Elementary, and arriving at Aloha Stadium to take place in the biweekly Aloha Swap.

After an afternoon of shopping, we had lunch at Wakiki Burgers, and in keeping with the way that life is in the Aloha State, I had an Aloha Mai Tai and chowed down on an Aloha Burger.

*This is the first vacation that I've taken with my immediately family since 2001. Aloha is soon going to mean "Hurry up, I need to get in the bathroom"

Luxury*

2007-06-28T20:50:00.000-05:00

When you think of luxury vehicle, what comes to mind?

Lexus? Probably.

BMW? Most likely.

Porsche? Absolutely.

Rolls-Royce? Without a doubt.

All such cars include the highly sought after, often stolen hood ornament. Well, maybe it's time we add another to that list.

I'm talking about the one, the only, the Honda. I know what you're thinking-- isn't Honda synonymous with good value, low maintenance, good gas economy? Maybe so. But maybe it is just those qualities that caused a neighborhood hoodlum to steal my "hood ornament" (or Honda logo stuck on my hood, if you want to get technical).

So, what does this mean for you, dear blogging community? It's simple. Keep a lookout for anyone sporting this trendy charm on a large chain around their neck:

* I strive to choose life experiences over material possessions, yet here I am, owning a luxurious Honda.

BBQ*

2007-06-27T21:37:00.000-05:00

This weekend was the Safeway National Barbercue Challenge. We got some delicious ribs and some not so delicious sunburn. I think that this picture pretty much sums up all you need to know about the event:

Reality*

2007-06-25T20:56:00.000-05:00

So, today as I was walking back to my car to drive to Tysons, I was approached by a punky looking woman on the street, arms covered in tattoos. She asked,

"Would you be interested in being an extra in an ABC reality show today?"

While playing hooky to contribute to the overall decline of American culture did sound remotely tempting, I came to the realization that when it comes to reality television, I am a purist. Does it strike anyone else as inherently conflicting that they stage extras for a so called "reality" show?

Are there not enough people ordinarily on the streets to make it seem "real" enough??

I think I'll just stick to the reality of my own existence, which does not involve making popular culture any more of a cesspool than it already is.

* She was lurking around 3rd and D SW aroud 10 am if you are interested.

Relay*

2007-06-21T21:05:00.000-05:00

So this weekend is the American Cancer Society Relay for Life. That's right, Emmmm and myself will be spending the weekend walking in endless circles around a track with some other coworkers.

Anyway, keeping in line with the shameless self promotion that is this blog, I am going to use this post to beg for donations. If you're interested in donating, click here.

Correction*

2007-06-18T22:17:00.001-05:00

This evening, I found myself at an icecream social this evening with McFluff and Lauxer. McFluff expressed his gratitude that Emmm and I had started blogging once again - I've met the guy only a handful of times, but he is probably one of Best Summer Evah*s biggest fans… he even has a favorite post.

This is just an aside, but it's sort of weird seeing McFluff in a setting where I have to actually use his name, which surprisingly enough, is not McFluff. Despite the hair, his parents didn't name him "McFluff". I've actually only heard him referred to by his actual name once or twice in the entire time that I've known him, basically when Emmm was explaining who the person behind the nickname was.

Anyway, it turns out that I had made a grievous error in a previous post that is very near and dear to his heart. Like any good fake journalist, I promised a correction. And here it is:

The blog post dated Thursday, March 22, 2007 contains an error. The gimlet (which is not part of a turkey, but rather a southern type drink) that McFluff was consuming during said blog post was one that was vodka based, not gin based as previously disclosed. We here at Best Summer Evah* strive to have the highest level of quality in our blogging and appreciate any inaccuracies that our readers bring to our attention.

Hag*

2007-06-13T20:08:00.001-05:00

So this past weekend was Gay Pride, and I did my best to celebrate as an out and open gay man. Wait a second... that's not right. I was just along for the ride with some other friends. Anyway, as it has been in the past, DC Pride was once again a good time... and I have pictures to prove it.

* And yes, I will email out the pictures

Eek!*

2007-06-12T15:10:00.000-05:00

Twas a late Sunday night and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a ----

Well, that's not entirely true.

On this particular Sunday, I overdid the Sleepytime tea before going to bed, so a couple hours into my slumber, I awoke to go to the bathroom. Bleary-eyed and groggy, I made my way down our long, dark hallway toward the bathroom. As I reached for the light switch, amidst the moonlight pouring into our bathroom, I caught a glimpse of a little creature scurrying across the bathroom floor. I thought to myself: (1) it must be my imagination, (2) that was the single largest bug I have ever laid eyes on, or (3) we have mice.

Now with the lights on, I could confirm exactly what had darted across the floor. I peered behind the toilet for a closer look, only to find a mouse staring back at me! Immediately I let out a squeal much like the same pitch we hear outside our windows every night as fire engines cruise by (which is the only explanation I have for why Kimmmm remained asleep). Then, I ran back down the hallway to my bedroom where I screamed again and jumped onto my bed (and Kimmmm remained asleep).

Now that I was safe and sound back in my bedroom (with my door closed), I slowly came to my senses and realized something had to be done. After all…

I guess I'm bigger than him.
He was kinda cute in that had-I-seen-this-small-disease-carrying-rodent-in-his-natural-habitat-rather-than-my-home-in-the-middle-of-the-night sorta way.
What if he has friends & family hiding elsewhere?
This. Is. MY. HOUSE!

As I ventured back to the bathroom to further investigate our little houseguest, he darted out of the bathroom and down the hallway, where he hid behind the washer and dryer. Knowing I could do very little at this point, I admitted defeat, vowing that we would be back.

The next day, I updated Kimmm with my traumatic experience, and she immediately purchased not one, not two, not three, but FOUR mousetraps. And not the old fashioned mousetraps that snap the neck of the mouse for a quick and painless death. Instead, she purchased dCON, which I can only assume are mini gas chambers for mice. First, they lure the mouse into a cozy warm place filled with peanut butter as far as the eye can see. Then, without warning, the mouse gets very sleepy, then suddenly cannot breathe and finds itself gasping for air. It has just enough time to call for its other friends and family that most likely reside in our home to come and visit him just before he is gone. They join him in the cozy and warm unit to also experience the slow and painful death. And so ends the mouse episode.

Well, so much for speculation. It has been a few weeks that we have our strategically placed dCON units throughout the house. And NOTHING. Not even so much as an attempt to eat the peanut butter. Naturally, I would assume the mouse made its way back outdoors. This, however, is not the case for I have seen our little friend in the kitchen. Which strikes me as incredibly ironic that the mouse chooses our kitchen to hibernate. (If you so much as know us, you can understand why. To say "we cook once a month" is giving us too much credit.) Talk about a letdown for the mouse! For as much credit I give our smart mouse for avoiding all the traps, it sure is pretty stupid for staying in a home that keeps the little food the house has in the fridge or freezer. Perhaps it will starve to death. I wonder if PETA approves the starvation method of killing mice. (Seems as though they have a list of approved methods). I think starvation would be pretty painful and it definitely encourages a prolonged death, but at the same time, I REFUSE to go grocery shopping to improve the livelihood of the mouse.

And so we wait.

It's been about a week since I've seen the mouse, but I know he's still there waiting for another surprise attack. I do not think he's satisfied unless my heart rate quadruples at the mere sight of him. Well, I'm hoping I'll get the last laugh, because today in the mail, I received my eagerly anticipated Electronic Pest Repeller Ultimate AT! Now, Kimmmm & I have to decide an appropriate time to begin said pest repelling. Turns out, within the first week you plug in the device, the critter activity, whether they be rodents or bugs, drastically increases. That's right. The unit that has an intended purpose of repelling bugs and rodents actually brings them out of the woodwork when it begins. Then, overtime, they are supposed to find their way out of your home for good.

I know one thing for certain --- we want all pests out of our home for good. But, at what cost? What if it takes more than a week of pest activity? More importantly, what kind of pest activity? I've heard everything from mice to rats to squirrels to roaches. I envision plugging the Pest Repeller in one night, then waking up in a scene from Jumanji. Is it really that farfetched? The possibilities are endless! Especially after I read a recent article (read here) about the rats that used to reside around Eastern Market before the fire, have since found new homes in the nearby neighborhood. WHAT?!! We ARE the nearby neighborhood. I did NOT sign up for this. When I heard that people living in DC had mice problems, I just assumed it was something people said. Now I know, it is not only something people say, but it is without a doubt, something people live.

For now, we are simply trying to figure out a week in which we'll both be out of town, and we can let the Pest Repeller create all the activity it needs.

* Eek: The sound a mouse makes. Or, the sound I make upon seeing a mouse.

Back*

2007-06-11T21:18:00.000-05:00

Hi there readers (or what is left of you),

Emmmm and myself have decided to get back behind the keyboard and start blogging again. There has been a lot going on over the past few months - too much to adequately capture, so we are starting fresh from today.

Right now, you are probably asking yourself, "What happened?!?!". There we were, blogging away one minute, and the next, completely silent.

In this particular case, the culprit is as one would suspect… men!

It turns out that the quality of our blog has an inverse relationship to the quality of our dating lives.

Fortunately, we've both gotten over the initial butterflies and have decided that the time has come to rekindle a true love, the blog. Of course, for the sake of privacy, the details of our dating lives will not be disclosed to the general internet reading public. So stay tuned for some summer fun.....

* In unrelated news, you may notice a new format to the titles.

BEST Place to Find Tall Bachelors EVER

2007-03-30T08:45:00.000-05:00

Being 5'9 and Kimmmm at 5'11, we always keep an eye out for those tall gents out there to come along and tower over our heads. We've been known to plan hypothetical trips based solely on the height of the people that reside there. Australia was always a top contender, and the Netherlands just made the list after a co-worker returned from working over there and remarked, "all the people over there are active and tall and, well, like you, Emmmm."

Please note: We did not take this into consideration when planning our Peru trip as everyone there peeked at the height of 4'2.

Anyhow, after considering the continents, we seemed to breeze over what may be a secret haven for tall bachelorettes like ourselves... ASIA! As you may have heard over the past couple days, Bao Xishun, a seven feet, nine inches herdsman listed by Guinness World Records as the tallest living man, married a 29-year-old saleswoman.

Apparently, he sent out marriage advertisements across the world to find that special someone. And a special someone indeed. Take a look at the happy couple. Granted, when I look at the photo, another happy couple comes to mind (think ~~American~~ Asian Gothic).

Wow, I mean, WOW! She comes up to his waist! I know the picture lends itself to obvious speculation as to how they would... er... um... dance, but come on.. his waist! Well, hats off to you, Mr. & Mrs. Bao Xishun! And, thank you for opening our eyes to another continent we shall add to our ongoing list of destinations suitable for all things tall.

To all the tall ladies out there, anyone up for a little trip to the 2008 Summer Olympics in Beijing??? I'm just saying...

BEST Gimlet EVER

2007-03-22T11:50:00.000-05:00

Last night, a few of us (me, Em, Auds, McFluff, McFluff's friend) went to see Pete Yorn at 9:30 Club. Beforehand, the group gathered at a fav spot on the Hill, Bullfeathers for a few cocktails.

The following conversation took place:

McFluff's Friend: What are you drinking?
McFluff : A gimlet
Kimmmm (mentally): Isn't that part of a turkey?

I thought that a gimlet was akin to a mint juliep or something of that nature, but after some research of wikidpedia, it turns out that it's a gin based drink.

Also, we are behind in posting. There will be a review of the lauxer/dahler St. Patricks Day extravagnza forthcoming.

BEST It's That Time of Year Again EVER

2007-03-19T12:59:00.000-05:00

It's that time of the year again… the weather is getting warmer, the sun is shining longer, and my clothes are soaked in beer and the scent of chili is wafting through the air. Well, not quite yet on those last two, but on May 12, 2007 that will be true.

That's right, the emails came today, inviting Em and I to take part in one of Best Summer Evah's favorite DC Events… the DC Chili Cookoff sponsored by the National Kidney Foundation. For the past three years, we've bravely volunteered during the morning shift beer truck, which involves collecting tickets in exchange for beer to the chili cookoff crowd.

As Em pointed out, working at the beer truck gives you an awesome sense of power… It is perhaps the most power I've ever experienced-- you have no idea how much command you have over a crowd of hundreds of sloppy drunks when you are serving beer. It can also get scary, especially when all five kegs kick at once and the happy drunken mood of the crowd takes a turn as they gather around the counter. A few years ago, when this happened, Em showed more cojones than the rest of the workers combined, who were cowering under the truck at the time, by organizing an impromptu talent show, diffusing the angry mob for the three longest minutes of my life while the kegs were being changed.

In addition to spending a warm spring morning in close proximity to a free flowing source of beer, the Chili Cookoff offers some of the best people watching the DC metro area has to offer. The 300 pound man in the "I beat Anorexia" shirt and the people wearing "you looked better on myspace" t-shirts are just a few of the delights that are amid this crowd.

Anyway, if you are interested in joining us here at Best Summer Evah at the truck (we need 12 - 16 willing and able volunteers), you can get the info here or just drop us a line*. Qualifications for the job include the ability to take tickets and place in a box or fill cup with beer. Improved hand eye coordination after beer consumption is a definite plus.

*Keep in mind, you don't have to necessarily from the DC metro area to participate in this event… Sheesh traveled from Buffalo, NY days after her 21st birthday to help out the National Kidney Foundation. From what she remembers, she had a really good time. Our couch will be available for you out of towners on a first come first serve basis.

BEST Betsy Ross EVER

2007-03-12T10:43:00.000-05:00

On Saturday, I headed over to Philadelphia, the city of Brotherly Love, which surprisingly enough is not located in West Virginia. There were several items on the agenda of Philadelphia, including attending the Philadelphia Flower Show, seeing the Real World House, gorging on cheesesteak and fries, ringing the Liberty Bell, and running up the steps to the museum like Rocky did in that movie while singing "Eye of the Tiger".

Being the spontaneous individuals that we are, we only deviated from this plan slightly. Although never featured on MTV, the Betsy Ross Museum and grave is right next door to the Real World house. It really surprises me that the drunken 20 somethings that appeared on an MTV reality television show where they were encouraged to engage in as much public debauchery as possible, didn't spend more time in Philadelphia exploring the colonial history that was three feet from their front door.

Phillip and Mike had already done the tour of the Betsy Ross museum and house, so we popped over to her grave to pay our respects to the Mother of Liberty, who although made a significant contribution to modern day America in the form of a flag, but never had the chance to vote.

If you actually go into the museum, you will learn all sorts of fun Betsy Ross facts such as the fact that she pioneered the five pointed star, because if you knew how to fold fabric like Betsy Ross, it was possible to make a five point star with a single snip of the scissors. Obviously, a single snip of the scissors per star is a genius move, saving Betsy Ross oodles of time and creating massive amounts of efficiency for our fledgling democracy.

Now, you may be asking yourself, what did Betsy Ross do with all of her spare time? Make more flags? Ride horses and put up torches on churches, one if by land, two if by sea? Cast the Liberty Bell? Draft the Declaration of Independence?

She did none of these things. Instead, she got around.

That's right, history and public education has conveniently forgotten to mention the fact that Betsy Ross was a common revolutionary trollup. She was married thrice, putting her among the ranks of other pop culture trollups such as Elizabeth Taylor, Liza Minnelli, and Larry King.

Anyway, I can just imagine how the old timey picking up of Betsy Ross would happen. I picture her sitting at the bar in Ye Olde Ale Pub of Liberty located catty corner to Independence Square, drinking ale, chowing down on cheesesteak, as an old timey revolutionary sidles on up next to her. Betsy probably looked over at him coyly, eyes peeking out from under her flouncy old timey bonnet and said something along the lines of, "So, is that a musket in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"

And as they say, the rest is history.

Special thanks to Philli for the Betsy Ross pickup line. Comments with Betsy Ross pickup lines are highly encouraged.

BEST Why It's Important to Learn Verb Conjugation EVER

2007-03-06T22:35:00.000-05:00

We are officially back in the States, slowly adjusting to the bitter cold weather, sitting at a desk for an extended period of time, and speaking a language in which we can properly conjugate verbs.

Prior to travelling to Peru, we severely underestimated the importance of properly conjugating Spanish verbs. We assumed that we could get by with the Spanish language based on what we remembered from our high school Spanish classes. And, for the most part, we recalled numerous nouns, adjectives, and verbs. What we did not recall was how to communicate in any tense other than the present tense.

Surely this would not have a significant impact on the message we were trying to communicate, right? That's what we thought. Until two specific conversations proved us wrong.

Conversation 1

While on our cab ride from the Lima airport to the hotel, we struck up a conversation with the cabbie in very broken Spanish.

What I intended to ask: Have you ever traveled to the United States?

What I actually asked: Do you travel to the United States?

What the cabbie interpreted it to mean: Will you travel to the United States and move in with me?

How I learned of his interpretation: He responded in Spanish, "Yes, I will travel to the United States and live with you."

Lesson learned: ALWAYS draw the line between cabdriver and potential new roommate.

Conversation 2

Following one of the most delicious dinners of our lives, we stopped in a local reggae bar and made friends with some of the locals. The catch? Only Spanish was spoken. As the night progressed, our Spanish dialogue improved. Or, so we thought.

Peruvian: (something I couldn't make out because it was in a different tense…) ….amor….

Emmmmm: Kimmmm, I think he just said they love us.

Peruvian: (something we couldn't make out because it was in a different tense…) ….amor….

Kimmmm: Oh, that's so cute, they DO love us.

Peruvian: (something we couldn't make out because it was in a different tense…) ….amor….

Emmmmm: Si. Si. Bien. Gracias.

Peruvian: Si??!! Verdad?

Emmmmm: Si. Y mi amiga tambien.

Peruvian: Verdad?!!!

Emmmmm: Claro!

Peruvian: Quieres hacer amor?

(finally able to make out what he was originally proposing)

Emmmmm: Como?!! No, no!

Prior to that, he was speaking in the future tense, which I could not quite decipher. Once he brought it back to the present tense, which I can understand, I realized that I misled him.

For those of you that also need help translating, "hacer" means "to make." And….I think we all know what "amor" means.

Needless to say, Kimmmmm and I paid our bill at the pub and headed back to the hotel. Just the two of us.

Lesson learned: Do NOT, under any circumstance, continue to say "Yes, great, thank you. And my friend, too..." unless you are certain what has been asked.

BEST English Lesson EVER

2007-03-01T13:31:00.000-05:00

After our night on the island, we went to the Mercado Central in Puno to buy gifts for all of you out there reading this. Well, not all of you. Some of you.

Anyway, the market was pretty much what you would imagine a Peruvian market to be like. Stall after stall, haggling in bad Spanish, walking past people screaming àmiga, amiga, comprar! Emily screaming "ocho soles or NO!" as she haggled over $0.30 increments (1 sol) with the vendors desperate for her business.

So, about halfway through our shopping excursion, we were browsing a few stalls which seemed to be unattended. There was a group of about 20 people gathered in a semi-circle around a chalkboard. We didn't really pay attention to the group, but could feel their eyes on us, which isn't all that unusual because we are the whitest and tallest people in the entire country.

Anyway, I was looking at a few hats and all of the sudden I heard the group chorus "black."

And then they said, "blue."

I was wearing black shoes. And blue jeans.

Then they said "green," the color of my shirt.

I turned around, and there were 20 sets of eyes staring at me as I looked back at them.

I waved and the instructor said, ¨what color are your eyes?`

I said azul, and the group replied "BLUE."

P.S. We tried alfojores after searching endlessly for them... each restaurant we were at did not have them, so we finally asked a watier about them. He walked out the front door and arrived back about five minutes later with them. They were okay, tasted like pie crust with extra sugar. We were expecting something that resembled the Little Debbie Christmas trees. The next time we saw them was in the window of a cigarette store (like a mini Peruvian 7-11)and they looked suspiciously like the ones we had at dinner. Now, we are keeping an eye out for ones that do not come in a plastic sealed bag.

BEST Gringa Barbies EVER

2007-03-01T13:17:00.000-05:00

We took a tour of Lake Titicaca (do not laugh), which involved spending the night with an authentic Peruvian familia on la Isla Amantani. As gifts, we brought them a few very practical small tokens from DC (a snow globe, magnet) and some tasty treats that we picked up on the dock before we left.

Anyway, our authentic Peruvian host mom was named Hermalada and we spent the night in an authentic house that had no electricity, running water, heat, doors, plumbing of any sort, or anything metal to stick the magnet we brought to.

Upon arriving, it was time to prepare lunch. We offered to help and were assigned to peeling the worlds smallest potatoes with two dull dirty knives. (Again, something that we will not be telling the travel nurse). The daughter of the family managed to peel twice as many potatoes as us combined and in less time. Lunch was potato soup, fried potatoes, and boiled potatoes.

We went on a quick hike and then it was time for dinner... which was potato soup. We enjoyed the soup as we watched the children scarf down the cookies and candy we brought them. In retrospect, fruit or vegetables that were not potatoes would have been a better token of appreciation to bring.

Following dinner, it was time for a fiesta to welcome all of the gringas to the island. The natives of the island were approximately 4'2'' at the very most, so we're assuming that they just viewed us as big awkward gringa dolls that were unable to peel potatoes. This suspicion was confirmed as it was time to prepare for the fiesta. They dressed us in traditional island clothing, which involved a huge hoop skirt (that looked like mini skirts on us), embroidered scarves, blouses, corset like belts, and shawls.

Completely willing to unleash the little girls that live within us, we totally got into playing dress up. A little bit too much. Once we figured out that Hermandalada was indicating to us that she wanted to dress us up, we started to strip off of the five layers of sweatshirts we had on (it is damn cold on an island with no electricity), which sort of shocked her. After she frantically screamed as we took off the first sweatshirt, we realized that we were supposed to wear our dress up clothes OVER our other clothes. So, lesson learned... Peru - it is a modest country.

Anyway, we have a series of increasingly hysterical pictures from the fiesta (which was held in the only building on the island that had electricity) which we will post upon our return.

P.S. Breakfast the next morning was a potato pancake with jam.

BEST 24 Hours EVER

2007-02-24T19:37:00.000-05:00

So a lot has happened since we blogged last.

We returned to Machu Pîcchu and hiked Waynapicchu, which is the mountain you see in the background of all of the pictures. Despite our sore legs from the previous day´s hike, we managed to scale yet another mountain. And, again, the view was well worth it. We´ll have pictures that we´ll later post, but as you can imagine, they will not do it justice. You MUST see it to believe it. Here are a few of our photos to give you an idea:

After the hike, we walked back down to Aguas Calientes, and caught the train back to Cusco. We had dinner at an Irish pub (very Peruvian, I know) and followed it up with drinks at Mama Africas after being harrassed on the street to "Come to Africa..." It is true what they say about having a drink at a high altitude. You get a lot more bang for your buck, or in this case, sol.

Today, we woke up and realized we could no longer walk. So, we decided we would let someone else do the walking for us. We rented two (of what must be, the WORLD'S SMALLEST) horses and galloped around the Incan ruins surrounding Cusco. One of the ruins is pronounced like "sexy woman," which was sort of entertaining to have numerous individuals ask you if you wanted to see thee "sexy woman."

A quick flight to Puno and we dropped our stuff off at the hotel. It turns out that today is CARNIVAL! So we walked around and checked out the dancing, parades, and silly string that every child on the street seems to have a huge can of. We are just returning from a delicious dinner of trout straight from Lake Titicaca. Tomorrow, it's off to the Lake, where we'll spend a night on an island, so we'll be back online in a few days.

We´re off to continue in the CARNIVAL celebration.

P.S. Phillip, we´ve seen llots of llamas and we llove them.

BEST Cure for Altitude Sickness EVER

2007-02-22T21:29:00.000-05:00

After arriving in Cusco yesterday, we realized we could not catch our breath. As the night progressed, we had pounded headaches, rapido heart beats, and felt generally ill. It turns out that Cusco has an insane elevation that is fit for only llamas and sherpas, neither of which we were.

Today, we travelled to Aquas Calientes (in spanish "hot waters") and then went up to Machu Picchu. We were wandering around the trails and took one labeled Montana Machu Picchu. Being the experienced and foolish hikers we are, we ascended up the Montana (which is not flat like the state, rather very steep) rather quickly. After two hours of hiking we came to a flag staked at the very top and realized that we had scaled one of the Andes. All in a days work.

The best part was that we realized that we had overcome our altitude sickness. It turns out rather than meds or rest, what you need to do is go gonzo on a Mountain, gaining as much height as possible in the shortest period of time you can.

Anyway, since our legs were quivering after the hike, we stopped into the thermal springs here in Aquas Calientes. If you have never gone to any thermal springs, they are not the most hygenic experience you will ever have. The hot water felt great on our sore muscles, but we will not be reporting this part of the adventure back to the travel nurse.

Tomorrow, we return to hike more of Machu Picchu, which apparently is not currently considered a wonder of the world. However, they have a very aggressive campaign here in Aquas Calientes, and we are sure that if you visit www.n7w.com, you can make a difference. They are VERY concerned about this, as we have seen about 9 billion signs proclaiming that we should "votemos por machupicchu maravilla del mundo."

After the morning at Machu Picchu, where we will hike Waynapicchu, a slightly shorter mountain than Montana (see photo to the right), we return to Cusco and are going to look into a horseback ride around some Incan ruins. We will keep you posted.

Buenas noches.

BEST Welcome to the Jungle EVER

2007-02-21T16:46:00.000-05:00

So we have made it into the jungle and back without catching malaria, yellow fever, or any other weird tropical diseases. That we know of.

We knew we would be in for an adventure when we got on the bus with our tour group and our guide said, "Welcome to the Jungle." Moments later, he told us that when we arrived at the lodge, there would be a nice glass of jungle juice for each of us. At which point, we looked at each other and mouthed, "AWESOME!"

The bus took us to the office to unpack a few items, repack in duffle bags, and grab some gumboots. They were emphatic about the gumboots and we soon found out why. If you ever are heading out to Sandoval Lodge, you take a bus from the office, a motorboat across Madre de Dios for forty-five minutes, hike 3 km through the rainforest, and then take a canoe across Lake Sandoval. The lodge is on your left by the cayman area. You cannot miss it.

Getting there was not so bad, except they had nonstop rain for the past month and we found ourselves wading through 8 inches of water and muck more than hiking. Fortunately, we listened to the instructions and wore the mandatory gumboots, so it was manageable. We cannot say the same for the rest of our group. The Israeli couple with us opted for sandals, which as it turns out, do not hold up so well in standing water. Better yet, 1 km into the hike, he discarded the sandals and walked through god-knows-what barefoot. Our guide was not entertained. We, however, were, as we sung under our breath "George, George, George of the Jungle." Keep in mind, this couple that "roughed it" also requested a rickshaw trip on the way back to the office after our stay.

The rest of the trip was fun. It turns out, we were the youngest people by 30 years at the lodge. And, despite the promise of jungle juice when we arrived at the lodge, we were disappointed to find that it did not consist of very liquor known to man and served from a garbage can. Sensing our confusion, we explained to the guides what jungle juice means in the United States. Especially in the universities in the United States.

Unfotunately, we were plagued by rain for most of the time, but managed to take a few side trips here and there. One rainy afternoon, they put on a video about otters in the lodge. While the old people sat and oohed and ahhed over the video, we staged what will be known as the Otter Rebellion of 2007. About 10 minutes into the video, we quietly approached our guide and begged him to take us anywhere. Meanwhile, the other tourists stayed glued to the video, including one man that went so far as to pull out his binoculars to see the otters on the video. We are not kidding. We were in a lodge in the Amazon, and a man was watching an otter special through his binoculars. Anyway, the otter video was not entertaining, so us and an Aussie couple slipped out and took a midnight canoe ride around the lake, watching the sunset, looking at birds, and spotting caymans.

We arrived in Cusco this afternoon, a little lightheaded and unable to catch our breath due to the high elevation. Tomorrow, we take a train to Machu Pïcchu to do all things Incan.

Ciao!

BEST Roughing It EVER

2007-02-18T21:10:00.000-05:00

After five hours in the air, we approach the Lima airport. As the plane came to a halt, the passengers exploded in a unanimous uproar of applause. Through utter confusion and delirium from our three hours of partial-sleep, we looked at each other and inquired, “Is this unusual that we landed safely???” Once realizing we were no longer in the Miami airport, we too, joined in the joyful cheer.

After collecting our backpacks from the baggage carousel, we stopped by the ATM to tock up on the Soles, the local currency. If you work in the Peruvian tourist industry, I imagine you are instructed to look for certain characteristics in what would be deemed a “quality tourist:”

Backpacks. Those rich yuppies/college students always looking for “culture.”
ATM use. Especially immediately after arriving.
Ladies

We seemed to pass the test for each of these, and were thus, welcomed to the country with open arms. Literally.

Taxi cab drivers for as far as the eye could see began yelling “Mujeres, taxi?” And, as tourists, we basically look for one thing in a taxi driver . . . who asks first.

Alejandro won our business and soon our hearts. After he placed our backpacks into the trunk, we were off to the hotel, or so we thought. Turns out, at 7AM when Kimmmm & Emmmm want to catch up on much needed sleep, Alejandro had something else in mind. We careened around corners at 90 kmph, and came to a screeching halt when spotting a car across the street that had flipped off a cliff moments before. We stop, remarked, “Que horrible!” and returned to the tour. Alejandro commented on the beautiful Pacific Ocean. Several times. And before long, we find him pulling off to the side so that we can experience firsthand the beauty of una bonita y grande ocean. Then, we stopped at a park. And to watch fishermen. And to watch surfers. And to walk a dock. And climb the rocks that led to the ocean. And to take pictures with Alejandro. And, ironically, to fill up the gas tank to make it to the requested destination.

Eventually, we make our way to the Marriott, but not before Alejandro inquires of our preference regarding a very pressing factor about Peru—chicos de norte Americana o chicos de sud Americana (that’s Spanish for “do we prefer North American boys or South American boys?”) To which we reply, “TODOS chicos.” (All boys)

So there we were, ready to begin roughing it at one JW Marriott. Roughing it began when the bellhop carried our hiking backpacks as though he was picking up precious jewels. After checking in, taking a catnap on the pillowtop mattresses, we headed over to lounge at the rooftop pool, overlooking the Pacific. We spent the next few hours in the sun, then headed down to the beach, where there was an impromptu airshow taking place. The airshow had to compete with another show that captivated the crowds . . . a Big Band performance by the US airforce (whaaaa???). Now, we knew Peru to be a developing country, but we never took that to mean developing musically. So we stood around watching fighter jets and listening to “Helllooooo Dolllyyyy.”

Finally we were ready for a decent meal. Here is one of the reasons we have already come to love Peru: We shared an appetizer of yucca, a bottle of wine, and we each ordered grilled salmon, and our bill came to $20/person.

Yes, we truly are roughing it.

Tomorrow we head off to the Amazon where we are fearful our accommodations will not be as luxurious.

Buenas noches,

Keeeem-bur-leee y Ayy-mee-leee

P.S. There’s no time difference here.

BEST Connection in Miami EVER

2007-02-18T20:47:00.000-05:00

As a general rule, good things do not happen when the Miami airport is involved. I was a bit apprehensive about flying to Peru via Miami, but it was the cheapest fastest way to get there.

Things got off to a rocky start in DC when we were about 3/4 of the way to the metro and we realized that we had neglected to take out our bagged trash. So, we turned around and headed back home to avoid returning home to a biohazard in two weeks.
Back to the metro it was!

I thought things would go okay at Reagan - check-in was okay, security was empty, and they loaded us on to the plane on time. I had a middle seat, which wasn't that great, but I would live.

The rest of the passengers file on, and a family with a small child sits behind us.

We wait.

And then, we wait some more.

Finally, the Captian comes on and explains that the plane is broken, specifically, the bathroom and that someone has to fix it before we can leave. As we wait, he launches into a lengthly tutorial on the mechanics of an airplane bathroom and the various types of suction involved. I miss most of this because the child behind me has begun screaming and kicking my middle seat, which he does for the next two and a half hours.

Finally, mercifully, the plane lands and the little monster sticks his head up over the seat. He's one of those little kids with huge eyes and a big grin. Emily immediately begins cooing at him, touching his hands, and exclaiming "He's just like a real person, only tinier" while I mouth "I hate him so much". As a final insult, or maybe because he heard me, the kid sneezes. Directly on my head.

In case you missed it, let me repeat. I WAS SNEEZED ON!

We ended up getting off the plane at 9:55, not yet having had dinner. With the exception of the 24 hour Burger King, everything in the aiport closes promptly at 10 pm. We wander around for a bit, and Emily decides to try and get Dunkin Donuts to make one last breakfast sandwhich, and I decided to try my luck with the Burger King, which in retrospect, was a huge mistake, just like flying through Miami.

The Burger King had only four people working and about 50 customers ranging from a gaggle of women with a church group, moms with kids, people who don't speak English or Spanish, and in the middle of all of it, tired cranky me. The employees at Burger King were of the surly and slow variety, and based on the sheer volume of screaming by customers, order accuracy was not their forte.

After a painful 20 minutes of waiting and still no food, I had come to the conclusion that the Burger King at the Miami Airport is about as close to hell on earth as it gets. As I looked into the eyes of the pimply teenager who finally handed me my chicken sandwich and bottle of water, I saw a reflection of the devil himself.

I backed slowly out of the Burger King and got in the security line, where of course, my newly purchased un-opened bottle of water was promptly confiscated because as a freedom loving God fearing American, I also moonlight as a liquid toting terrorist.

Despite this rocky start, I have high hopes for the rest of this trip, namely because it doesn't involve the Miami airport. We'll blog when we can.

** Also, CONGRATS TO CASSIE AND MANNY FOR TYING THE KNOT THIS WEEKEND. HAVE A GREAT HONEYMOON AND WEDDING **

BEST Haircut EVER

2007-02-17T08:33:00.000-05:00

Before:

After:

I donated 10 inches of hair to Pantene Great Lengths which is a charity which takes hair donations and makes them into wigs for women with cancer. The first cut was really scary (and my head felt about 5 pounds lighter), but I am really starting to enjoy my new look!

BEST Reintroduction of BEST SUMMER EVAH EVER

2007-02-15T11:39:00.000-05:00

This past weeks snowstorm has sealed the deal. I won't go into the details of my experience, as I'm sure all of you out there have your own horror stories of an inept government who is unable to clear roads, people who drive like idiots, sheets of ice forming everywhere, knee deep puddles of slush, and the biting cold wind that takes your breath away.

Despite the different experiences we've had in the past few days… I think we can all agree on one thing.

Winter in DC sucks.

In addition to all of the annoying weather crap, there is also nothing going on. You've probably noticed that quantity and quality of this blog has gotten significantly worse as well… I realized that I had hit a new low when I considered the ramen dude dying to be a blogworthy event. As low as it may be, I still do have some sort of quality standard though … there will be no mention made of one blond overweight model who lived out every little girls dream by marrying the old dude and getting his millions.

I digress. Back to winter. It's not fun.

That's why we here at Best Winter Evah have decided to check out early. It's time to bid the snow, ice, slush, etc adieu. So, I would like to reintroduce… BEST SUMMER EVAH, a much happier time in all of our lives. Obviously, it's still winter in DC and I’m not going to say that the summer lives in my heart or anything campy like that because that would just be silly. If we are going to end winter, it's going to be done properly, by going somewhere where it is legitimately summer RIGHT NOW.

Peru.

That's right, we will be having the Best Summer Evah down south for the next two weeks… hiking Machu Pichu, chillin' in the Amazon, sunning ourselves on the beach, speaking a horrible version of Spanish with the locals, searching for llama eggs, etc.

We'll try to post quick little updates as we have time and internet access, so make sure to check back every once in a while and we'll do our best to help you beat your winter blues.

BEST Last Look EVER

2007-02-13T09:24:00.000-05:00

So, Mom and Dad are selling my childhood home. Now that they are empty nesters, nearing retirement, they are moving to a bangin' new pad that's slightly smaller and in a neighborhood with significantly less rugrats running around screaming. I can't say that I blame them.... there is nothing more annoying than looking out the window and finding your backyard full of small children that don't belong to you.

Anyway, the move will probably occur before I get back to western New York again, but fortunately, I'm able to get a last look of my childhood home via the wonder of the internet. You can too. Check out the virtual tour here.

Also, Sheesh deserves mad props for making her extremely spooky internet debut as a guest appearance in the virtual tour. I'm not going to tell you what room she's in, you'll just have to look and see!

(Note: This picture was taken in July- I don't miss my snowy snowy childhood)

BEST the Artist EVER

2007-02-08T11:39:00.000-05:00

I know several days have passed since the biggest NFL game of the year, but...
CONGRATULATIONS TO PEYTON & COMPANY on a spectacular season! I am so happy to see my hometown boys win it all!

Other than my enthusiasm with the Colts' win, there is not much more to report. The commercials did not live up to the hype that is the Super Bowl, except of course, the K-Fed Nationwide commercial that everybody had heard of weeks in advance. Just as an aside, did anyone else notice that it was shown right after a Fed-Ex commercial? How convenient.

Other than the actual game and the commercials, what else is there to speak of? The half-time show.

Ahhh, the half-time show. A few years after the infamous Janet/Justin duet, there was little left to expose on national television. Prince (or is it "the artist formally known as Prince"? or maybe just "the Artist"???), however, had something up his turquoise & tangerine sleeve. Everybody watching the show marvelled at his ability to perform flawlessly during the rainstorm that poured onto the stage. Although the show was pretty tame, considering this is the same performer that brought us such classics as "Cream" and "Get Off," he unveiled his surprise during my personal favorite, Purple Rain.

So Prince is nearing the end of his set, and he disappears behind an enormous sheet or screen, allowing objects to appear larger than they are. Soon he begins rocking his guitar solo, at least, I think it was his "guitar." Let's just say, not much was left to the imagination to recognize the gratuitous vision Prince had slipped into the show. If you thought the GoDaddy commercials exposed a lot about the female anatomy, Prince went above and beyond the call of duty when displaying a certain anatomical part of the male!

Some things never change. Long live the Prince!

BEST Auditors Without Borders EVER

2007-02-04T11:16:00.000-05:00

Every now and again, Kimmmm and I are required to go on travel for work. It's a good opportunity to check out the wondrous places our nation has to offer, especially the ones I would never willingly travel to on my own.

Jack Stack BBQ in Kansas City?

Check.

Furniture depot in Hickory, NC?

Check.

Amber waves of grain? Purple mountain majesties? Fruited plain?

Check, check, and check.

But never were we approached with an opportunity that sent us on an international quest. One of our best friends, however, was. A couple weeks ago, Kelli was approached by her manager and asked if she would be interested in traveling to Guatemala for one of her clients. To show her overwhelming desire and indepth knowledge of the culture, without hesitation, she responded, "Si!"

So, she packed her laptop, mosquito repellent, and a flashlight, and flew out that weekend. She was on her way to audit whatever it is that Guatemala needs audited. Being the uber-politically correct gals that we are, we assumed she would audit the likes of the braiding business, straw markets, or banana distribution. We were wrong.

Well, a week has passed since she first embarked on her auditing in Spanish journey, and she decided to try to capture bits and pieces of her experience in a blog (we may or may not have persuaded her to do so). You can take a read here.

BEST Krispy Kreme Challenge EVER

2007-01-24T19:10:00.000-05:00

Every once in a great while (okay, this is the first time actually), an alert reader of Best Winter Ever brings something to our attention which cannot go unnoticed due to its mass appeal to our readership. And this is why, Melissa deserves a huge shout out for bringing to our attention an activity that would have missed our best winter ever had it not been for her watchful eye.

Some of you out there like to run right?

Some of you out there like Krispy Kreme doughnuts right?

What if I told you there was a winter activity where you could combine the two??

Yes, folks, that's right. Raleigh, NC is having it's annual 2007 Krispy Kreme challenge. For those of you not in the know, this race started in 2004 and the premise is this:

You start at the NC State bell tower
You run 2 miles downhill to the Raleigh Krispy Kreme
You consume 1 dozen glazed doughnuts
You run 2 miles uphill back to the bell tower

…all in under an hour.

I cannot even imagine how much your stomach must lurch after eating one dozen Krispy Kremes in a single sitting, and then as the ultimate offense, you continue to challenge your body by running uphill.

I think that the picture of the guy on the right hand side of the banner pretty much sums it up. He looks like he's about to toss his doughnuts.

It's my hope that Melissa will sign up for this event and provide us here at Best Winter Ever a first hand account of the disgustingly delicious experience that is the 2007 Krispy Kreme challenge.

BEST Stupid B#&#% from Florida EVER

2007-01-21T20:03:00.000-05:00

The great snowstorm of '07 descended upon the DC metro area this past Sunday. I was out and about (actually at work) and around 3:30, made the decision that the time had come to make the drive from Tysons back to the Hill before the roads got really bad.

I've had somewhat limited experience with snow in the DC metro area, but from what I've seen, I know I don't like it. Roads don't get cleared, people drive like jackasses (which really isn't specific to snow, more of a general observation), sand is used instead of salt (salt melts things, sand doesn't), and the few things about the infrastructure in this area that actually work come to a screeching halt.

Anyway, this afternoon, the executive decision has been made. I was going to drive home. I decided that the highways would probably be crowded (because they always are) and that the one and a half inch dusting of snow would probably be a little bit more melted than the other roads.

Being from western New York, I’ve driven through blinding snowstorms with three feet of visibility… I've driven through four inches of pure powder….let's just say, I've driven through a lot of snow related crap. That however, gives me absolutely no confidence driving in DC snow, as everyone in this area seems to obey the driving laws of their own state or countries rather than respecting things like "safety".

Before I go on, I want to say that I spend entirely too much time in my car and am a very bitter bitter driver. Let that set the scene for the rest of this story.

So, I made my way down Chain Bridge and onto the 267 ramp, when this SUV with Florida plates skidded. I watched the driver try to yank the wheel out of the skid, as I cursed under my breath, "Turn into it stupid" and then stop her car, which lead to continue to curse "Don't stop on an icy ramp you stupid b#$(&". Because she was in my way, I stopped my car, and because Florida had stopped and I had stopped every single other driver behind us also stopped.

Florida woman continued to gun her engine and turned out of the skid enough for other cars to pass by her. Several suburban mom's flipped their H3's into four wheel drive and buzzed by us. I don't drive an H3. I drive a 99 Cavalier, which does not flip into four wheel drive. I put my car back into drive and tried to ease around her, but it turns out that when you stop a Cavalier on a pure sheet of ice, the tires don't have enough traction to make it go again. Several other people who had piled up in the 10 minutes found themselves in a similar predicament. So, there I was, second in a long miserable line of people who couldn't move because of a stupid b@$(*& from Florida.

I tried rocking my car. I tried putting it in low gear. There was no traction to be had.

It was time to get some help. I got out of my car and walked to the car behind me and the woman rolled down her window. I said, "We need to push Florida, my car and then yours." She looked at me grasped the concept and said "Yes." So, she went up to explain to the woman from Florida that this was a minor snowstorm and that you should always turn into a skid and never stop unless you are going to hit something and we were going to push her before she could wreak any more havoc on our lives and I walked down the rest of the ramp and rallied the rest of the motorists.

When I went back up the hill to Florida woman, there was a group of about 10 of us and we got behind the stupid SUV and pushed that mother off into the wild blue yonder praying that we would never see her again. If the power of our collective disgust had been harnessed in some way, she probably could have made it all the way back to her alleged "sunshine state".

Luckily, I was second in the line, so I got pushed next. I beeped my horn in gratitude and waved my arm out the window as a gesture of good luck to the others as they stood behind me waving. I was on my way, footloose and fancy free to skid the rest of the way home.

I can't wait to do this again tomorrow.

BEST Clue EVER

2007-01-17T18:29:00.000-05:00

It has now been more than a month since we ventured across the river to reside in the District, and we have yet to meet the people that live in the floor above us. This would not seem unreasonable to us when living in a high-rise in Virginia with 6 million other people in the building, but we only have one unit above us, and another above them.

So, instead of knocking on their doors and introducing ourselves, we find it far more entertaining to learn about them through clues.

We live on the first floor and we have a large window that faces the walkway everyone must pass when coming or going into the main door of the house. So, in the evening, when we hear people walking down the stairs or walking up the walkway, we run to turn off the lights and spy on the person coming or going.

Using this method, we've learned a lot about the people upstairs:

Third Floor

A woman is pregnant
A European man lives with the pregnant woman
We have not determined if it is a baby out of wedlock
They are getting rid of furniture (perhaps to make room for the baby?) and placing said items out by the curb for trash pickup
We cannot confirm nor deny whether we have taken a small end table to hold dishes in our kitchen
We eagerly anticipate the day we invite them over and they notice a familiar piece of furniture that is now holding our dishes.

Second Floor

Two girls live together.
We presume they're bizarro Kimmmm & Emmmmm.
Or lesbians.
They placed a box spring out front with the garbage. A week ago.
The box spring is still there.

Just as an aside, we've seen a male in gym clothes carrying oranges. We have yet to determine if he lives there or is friends with the bizarro Kimmmm & Emmmmm. Either way, we decided that there is a male that lives nearby that likes to workout and eat oranges.

Well, it was clear we needed to step up the investigation if we wanted to find any real dirt on the people above us. You know, rather than do the obvious and actually MEET THEM (gasp!). So, we continued to keep our eyes and ears open for any further clues.

Third Floor update

Around the holidays, we learned that the pregnant couple accidentally opened one of Kimmmm's Christmas cards that was placed in their mailbox by accident. The woman left an apologetic note and signed her name. From this information, we can deduce that she is either (a) a nice woman that innocently opened a piece of mail, or (b) a felon. You be the judge.

Second Floor update

With our improved scrutiny, we confirmed a couple more things about bizarro Kimmmm & Emmmmm:

They walk around their hardwood floors late at night.
They use electricity.

It seemed we were on a roll, but we had yet to discover that single breakthrough clue that would clearly define the people above us.

Until last week.

I was walking down our street and as I gazed up to the dark window of the unit above us, there it was. Our biggest clue to date:

When I shared the information with Kimmmmm, she said, "Do you think the President will come over? I just assume he does personal visits to the ten voting Republicans that reside in the District."

And, these ladies are not just your average run-of-the-mill Republicans. They are sign-hanging-Republicans.

There you have it. We live in a rowhouse with Lesbian Republicans and Pregnant Felons. This city has it all! Perhaps it is high time we introduce ourselves. I can only imagine what they presume about us….

BEST Death to Smoochy EVER

2007-01-15T10:21:00.000-05:00

Here's the thing about this alleged winter (and I say alleged because the temperatures are no where near winter-like)… there isn't a whole lot going on. And to be honest, it's okay. Winter is sort of the time that you spend at home and find that not every single moment is booked with some zany activity. Although my life has become significantly less bangin', I’m using the winter months to sort of regroup from the craziness that is every other season. I've been reading a lot, talking long walks on Sunday afternoons, and watching a movie here and there.
And as you've probably already guessed by the title of this posting… over the weekend I watched one of the grandest pieces of cinematic artistry ever committed to film - The movie Death to Smoochy.

I had been wanting to see Death to Smoochy for a while, mainly because Jon Stewart always makes cracks about it on the Daily Show. I was expecting the usual camp, a few cheap laughs, and the like. What I got instead was a compelling story of a man in a fuchsia rhinoceros costume struggling to stay true to his values of good nutrition and saying please and thank you in the seedy underworld of children's television programming.

Without giving too much away, basically what happens is Rainbow Randolph (Robin Williams) is busted taking bribes from parents to give their children airtime on his show. So, in a scandal, he quits, and is replaced by Smoochy (Edward Norton). Smoochy is a bit of a renegade bohemian who tries to bring ethics and values back to children's programming in the face of several obstacles including a murderous disgruntled Rainbow Randolph (Robin Williams plays an excellent Deranged Person), the Help the Children charity mob, bitchy producers, and horrible Jon Stewart cameos.

The movie becomes a classic struggle of man trying to stay true to his core values in the face of wealth, power, and influence. The movie also contains a love story, an Irish restaurant, midget, neo-Nazism, and enough potty humor to make a 13 year old giggle uncontrollably.

So there I sat on Friday night, transfixed by all that was Death to Smoochy. I'm not going to lie either… the Moochy ascending into heaven part of the ice show brought a tear to my eye. If it doesn't bring a tear to your eye, you are one cold cold hearted meanie.

Note: I REALLY need to start getting out more.

I'll end with the words of Smoochy himself, "You can't change the world, but you can make a dent."

BEST Big Cup of Noodles in the Sky EVER

2007-01-10T09:38:00.000-05:00

I have some sad news.

Momofuku Ando has passed away.

Right now, you are probably wondering why I am announcing the death of some obscure Japanese man or woman. Well, even if you don't realize it, Momofuku has probably had a dramatic impact on your life. The man INVENTED ramen noodles.

That's right the man behind the delicious salty broth, noodles that never quite cooked the right way, crinkly cellophane packages, etc has gone to the big cup of noodles in the sky.

As it was for most college students, Ramen was a part of my diet during my years in higher education. Granted, I didn't eat it every day… I was probably more of a weekly post bar this is great drunk food ramen eater, but I still did what every college student did…. I would drop $2 for a case of ramen and the beginning of the semester and when all other food options had expired, would indulge.

My favorite ramen related memory was when one of my good friends (Quoc) was in Morocco for the Peace Corp. For Christmas one year, I sent him about 10 packets of Ramen noodles, figuring that they would be an inexpensive thing to ship and provide him a taste of dorm life. So, I went to the store and bought the 10 packets for about $0.80, packed them up in a padded envelope (about $1.00) with a letter (about $0.10 worth of paper and ink) and brought the package up to the post office in Baker Hall. So all in all, about $1.90 worth of materials.

The man behind the counter weighed my package. He shook it. He added some more tape. He looked at the address. Then, he gave me the options…. "well, you could send this via airplane for $50.00," to which I inquired, "For $50, will you be bringing it there yourself?". Anyway, we haggled a bit, and I settled on sending it via pack-mule which would take at least 3 months for the bargain basement price of $15.00.

Anyway, so as you have to do when sending packages overseas, you have to declare the value. I triumphantly wrote "Ramen noodles $1.00" (I overestimated by about $0.10 as to not be embarrassed about sending such a crappy gift) and handed the slip back to him. He looked at it and the value and contents, and said "You really want to mail this?"

I really did. Apparently, even though it did travel by pack mule through who knows where and took 6 months to arrive and cost 1875% its value to get there, that ramen arrived just like it had come off the shelf.

And that is why I raise my fork full of salty goodness and drippy broth flavored water to you Momofuku.

BEST First 14 Seconds EVER

2007-01-09T09:34:00.000-05:00

The top-ranked Buckeyes came out onto the field last night, ready to prove they were worthy of the national championship title. And once the ball was kicked off, they showed the nation they were worthy of the #1 ranking they had all season . . . for the first 14 seconds.

And, that's pretty much all I really have to say about last night's game.

I should have known better than to boast about OSU during the day. A conversation at work went something like this . . .

(Think "Da Bears. Ditka, Ditka, polish sausage . . ." from SNL)

Co-worker: What do you think the score will be tonight?

Emmmmm: Buckeyes 121. Gators 7.

Co-worker: Ummm, 121?

Emmmmm: Da Bucks, da Bucks, da Bucks. Tressel. Tressel. Tressel.

On a positive note, like any other Ohio native, I prepared a trillion delicious buckeyes prior to the game.

I guess the only thing left to do is enjoy the little pieces of chocolatey-peanut buttery deliciousness until the 2007 season begins.

Goooo Buckeyes!

BEST Person of the Year EVER

2007-01-02T21:36:00.000-05:00

This is awkward. I do not know how to go about it and it will certainly come across a tad self-indulgent, so I'll just come out and say it:

I am TIME Magazine's 2006 Person of the Year!

It came as a shock to me when I looked down at the recent copy of TIME in which they reveal the Person of the Year, and I saw my reflection staring back at me. In fact, they even went to the trouble of personalizing a magazine for me that said "YOU." Take a look below:

Don't get me wrong, I'm quite flattered, but I am trying to identify that one moment of 2006 that set me apart from all of the other 2006 contenders. Which when you really get down to it, the contenders include everything and everyone else in the Universe. So, in order to try to prove my worthiness of said title, here are a few events that may help validate TIME's decision:

Housed the DC homeless
Helped OSU defeat UM
Was published
Brought Dunkin' Donuts to the DC metro area
Won tickets to a concert for blogging
Endured O'Hare...countless times
Received a blank check
Caught the bouquet
Met Barack Obama

And if you take a look at former winners, you will see just how prestigious this award is. Now, I can say that I rank among the likes of Bono (2005), the Dubya (2000, 2004), the Endangered Earth (1988), Women (1975), Stalin (1939, 1942), and Hitler (1938). That's right, TIME positioned me among other greats of history, including an entire planet, an entire gender, and the most infamous dictators in the 20th century.

Thanks, TIME. I'll cherish this.

BEST Happy New Year EVER

2007-01-02T16:18:00.000-05:00

I feel as if though I should blog about the New Years eve festivities because many of those listed on the sidebar (Tiggs, Jarrett, Ph) actually traveled up to DC for the event. Anyway, with this particular crowd, New Years Eve is not just one night, but actually a four day event that spans an entire weekend.

There were several traditional activities such as the trip to the zoo (with significantly less bear porn jokes this year), a trip to view the National Christmas Tree, shopping in Georgetown, Indian food, a few evenings out on the town, and of course, the main event New Year's Eve. I think that I can speak for all those assembled when I say that a good time was had by all.... so good in fact that Lindsay broke out in hives at one point.

Anyway, as with most times this particular group of people assembles, there was some ridiculousness, which will provide a massive amount of entertainment in the months to come.

And as far as New Year's Eve is concerned, the following quote from New Year's Day sums it all up:

Jarrett: "I think Mr. T should come next year to chaperone me."
Kim: "It's probably not a bad idea to have someone on hand who could provide medical attention if necessary."

So, rest up folks, and I'll see you December 28, 2007 for the next celebration! Who's in?

BEST Chair Thrower EVER

2007-01-01T23:38:00.000-05:00

2007 has already proved to be a memorable year for the General. At 880 wins, he passed Dean Smith with the most coaching victories in college basketball history.

What makes such a successful coach? Well, as an Indiana graduate, I was able to see firsthand the method to his madness. While I never saw chairs thrown across the basketball court or the strangling of players, I was there when Myles Brand (then IU president, now NCAA president) fired the legendary coach. The reaction to the firing showcased the true support the students had for this man. The campus strongly opposed the firing and tastefully protested outside of Brand's home by burning him in effigy while the police escorted Brand and his wife to a safer location. You know, just some harmless Midwestern fun.

Then, Knight continued his legacy at Texas Tech, where he broke the longstanding record against New Mexico on this first day of 2007 (thanks, New Mexico!). And to pay respect to the legend, here are a few of his most profound remarks that captivated audiences and won our Hoosier hearts:

I think that if rape is inevitable, relax and enjoy it. - During an April 1988 interview with Connie Chung

When my time on Earth is gone, and my activities here are past, I want them bury me upside down and my critics can kiss my ass. - A limerick in March 1996

If the NBA was on channel five and a bunch of frogs making love were on channel four, I'd watch the frogs, even if they were coming in fuzzy. - Coaching the gold-medal winning team at the 1984 Olympics

I told him to take a picture of his testicles so he'd have something to remember them by if he ever took another shot like the last one.

This is the most comfortable red sweater I've had on in six years. (okay, this is not a Hoosier favorite) - When he joined Texas Tech after the IU firing

He said that both Dean and I have always tried to reach the same end, and that we have different ways of doing it. Coach Smith is the master of the four-corner offense and Coach Knight is master of the four-letter word. That's a verbatim quote from Jordan. - Commenting on this most recent accomplishment

Congrats, Coach! College wouldn't have been the same without you.

Love him or hate him, he's a great effing coach.

BEST You Can Take A Girl out of DC EVER

2006-12-24T15:27:00.000-05:00

Greetings from Buffalo, NY. Last night I found myself at a party full of shrill middle school teachers. Sheesh and I did what we do best in desperate situations like this... we found the bar.

Anyway, one of the guests had an uncanny resemblance to a certain DC resident. At first, it was highly comical. Then, as the night wore on (and I kept drinking), it got a bit spooky.

Here's a stalkerazzi photo we snapped.

Creepy, huh?

Poor guy.

BEST Wasted Air EVER

2006-12-20T10:05:00.000-05:00

(AKA Infomercial post #1-- while unpacking, we came across several As-Seen-On-TV items, still in the original boxes. Needless to say, they lend themselves to future posts.)

When moving to the District, you have to make sacrifices. Our sacrifices included going from two bathrooms to one, from a dishwasher to pruny hands, from a secured garage to street parking, from a life expectancy of 80 to approximately 30, and from two large walk-in closets to considerably smaller storage space.

Bathrooms. The decrease in number of bathrooms is an easy fix. We shall share one, just like we did three apartments ago. Not to mention, we both have sisters we've shared bathrooms with during our respective childhoods. And sharing with one other person is far easier than 100 sorostitute sisters like the old college days. Besides, it helps us cut down on our excess toiletries.

Dishwasher. The dishwasher is also an easy fix. We start handwashing. For those of us that cook once a month, this should not be too difficult.

Parking. The street parking is a little more difficult, mostly because it opens the floodgates to damage from other cars or vandals (also worthy of mention: my car insurance annual payment just doubled for moving from garaged parking in the Commonwealth to the street parking in the District!). But, I suppose it is a small price to pay to be within a couple blocks of the Capitol building.

Life Expectancy. The estimated life expectancy may be a tough fix. I guess we will just enforce the Buddy System, while wearing bullet-proof vests and sporting neutral gang colors. Admittedly, the statistic may have been slightly fabricated, but if I look, I am certain I could dig up something to substantiate it.

Storage Space. With all that said, this brings us to the decrease in closet space. To assume it would be an easy fix, you would be mistaken. The first solution, and most obvious plan, was to get rid of unnecessary clothing items. We filled bags upon bags of clothing and shoes (probably totalling eight bags each), and walked them over to the Whole Foods clothing drive. Unfortunately, that didn't quite cut it. We just had too many clothes and too little space in the DC closets.

What to do, what to do. We brainstormed how we could save space in our closets….and, as if we were conducting our very own infomercial, it struck us! The answer to our prayers... Space Saver Bags! It's so obvious! It is what every household needs! It can compact an entire bin of clothing into a small, concise, stackable space.

So, Kimmmm acted fast and made a couple trips to the nearby Container Store or the like to pick up As-Seen-on-TV Space Saver Bags. And let me tell you, they did not disappoint. Not only are they functional, but they provided endless entertainment while we watched our bins and bins of clothing disappear into a flattened, airless bag. If you do not believe me, feast your eyes on the little play-by-play we photographed below:

BEFORE: Check out all that wasted air!

Simply by fastening the vacuum attachment to the Space Bag, we were off…

Kimmmm's making progress, but it looks like she may need to call in for assistance. Please keep the inappropriate c omments to a minimum.

And this is where roommates come in handy.

Looks like I'll need some backup. Kimmmm's joining me on the bag.

AFTER: No more wasted air.

Ta dah! It's so slim and compact!

(I will be waiting for the Space Saver Bag endorsement in the mail.)

Now having known the powerful effects of this little Miracle Worker, the question becomes, why wouldn't you use Space Saver Bags? To think of all the air we've wasted by packing them in bins and drawers for all these years....

BEST Ikea Trip EVER

2006-12-17T18:16:00.000-05:00

I had already danced with the Swedish Devil once in 2006 and lived to tell the tale… so this weekend, I decided try my luck for a second time and tangoed my way back into the hell that is Ikea. For those of you who aren't in major metropolitan areas with Ikea's you are probably thinking…okay, Kimmmm is being a little bit melodramatic…. Ikea seems like it is a place with a variety of trendy and inexpensive furniture.

This of course is true I am being a bit melodramatic and Ikea is a place with trendy and inexpensive furniture. It is also a place that will cause you to swear and bleed. My trip to Ikea this weekend wasn't actually that bad, but for the sake of having an entertaining blog, I am going to share a few observations from the trip to Ikea that Ph, Emmmm, Sheesh, and I took a few weeks ago and some general observations.

The Store. We arrived at Ikea on Saturday morning. Although the stores are huge and located near highways, so that everyone can see the eyesore that is the blue and yellow building for miles away, we managed to miss the exit and had to turn around. The car was parked approximately 3 miles from the actual entrance. After making it to the store, the store itself is a jumbling confusing maze that was put together by Swede's who were obviously under the influence of some illegal narcotics. Time and space cease to exist, as we wormed our way around couches, kitchens, through bedrooms, and of course, there is the children's section (shudder). Philli picked up a hippo, but not in the childrens section. We held hands and ran through that.

The Products. Now, I am all for celebrating all cultures equally, but I would think that the Swedes would have thought to do some basic translation of product names before entering the US market. I don't want to be culturally insensitive here or anything, but from a practical standpoint, I'm pretty sure that the average American's command of Swedish is not such that they are able to distinguish the difference between a Gorm, Flangby, and Rimfrost.

The Warehouse. (This is where the swearing begins) After making our way through the store and looking at approximately one billion different housewares, we were mercifully released into a warehouse, where you we to go and pick up your own products to bring them to the register. The College Park Ikea holds a special place in my heart for this section of the trip, because the tags that are on the products with the warehouse locations, don't exactly match the "locations" of these products in the warehouse. Oh, those Swedes are some Merry Pranksters*. Of course, since you don't know the actual product names, it's nearly impossible to locate that bookshelf or bed that you wanted. By this time, you've been traipsing around the store for 3 hours with the rest of humanity so you are exhausted anyways. Finally, you find your product and realize that although your new bookshelf is in a flat deceptively light looking box, it actually weighs about 200 pounds. I picked up a stuffed giraffe.

*bonus points if you get the literary reference.

The Registers. This is the main reason Ikea is hell. I don't want to talk about it. It wasn't bad when we went, but I've been in Ikea before when it's been ugly and it's Not a Good Thing.

The Parking Lot. (This is where the swearing really picks up) This is where the real fun that is Ikea starts. I had my newly purchased Flibba, Lyckeby, and Glimmas, and was ready to head home, when I came to the sad realization that my 99 Chevy Caviler was probably not designed haul a 200 pound box of bookcase anywhere, even back in November of 1999 when it still had pickup.

Home. (This is where you swear some more) Finally, after a confusing, exhausting, and annoying detour, we arrived at our new apartment and began to unload the car. At this point, the trip had been going on for approximately five hours, and we were exhausted and starving and it didn't help that no one could remember what the Probus was, why it had been purchased at all, and why the box would be so damn heavy.

Assembly. (This is where you swear AND bleed) Beyond just saving the expenses associated with any semblance customer service, you get to experience the joy of furniture assembly using only a small thumb wrench that was not designed for the average adults sized hand. The instruction sheets feature smiling androgynous Swedes assembling furniture in the way that you too would assemble furniture if you were a smiling androgynous Swede. The instruction sheets also contain helpful graphical warnings such as a picture of a frowning Swede hitting his head with a hammer with a big X through it. (You don't even have to know what a Atlant is to get that you are supposed to hit your head with a hammer from this one). Anyway, every piece of Ikea furniture I've ever purchased has drawn blood, either my own, or the blood of the unwitting friends who volunteered to help me assemble it. Sometimes, it does make me want to hit my head with a hammer, but after a careful read of the instruction sheet, I know that this is not the correct thing to do. (You are supposed to use only a thumb wrench).

I'm pretty sure the instruction sheet above is saying not to drop your furniture because it will break.

After passing through the purgatory that is the store and warehouse, and finally descending into the depths of bloody furniture assembly hell, I have found myself the proud owner of a really cool Markor. I know how this whole thing will go…one thing will lead to another, a few years pass, a new apartment will inevitably come, and I'll foolishly decide that I need to pick up some new odds and ends and repeat the whole cycle again.

BEST Failed Pirate Joke EVER

2006-12-17T17:16:00.000-05:00

(Friday night at Capitol Lounge)

Kim: Quick! I need a pirate joke.

Emily: What do people in Northern Virginia have in their apartments?

Guy: I don't know. What?

Emily: C-aaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrr-pet

Kim: You didn't say pirate.

BEST Got Milk EVER

2006-12-13T10:32:00.000-05:00

And we're back…..

That's right… Best Winter Evah has relocated to the banging neighborhood of Capitol Hill for the near future. Anyway, Emmmm and myself have had a lot of shizzle fizzlin' over the past few weeks… we packed the hastily acquired boxes, I took the CISA exam, there was a trip to Eastern Market, we moved, the movers hijacked a truck full of our possessions for a very confusing/harrowing hour, there was a company holiday party, work got a little crazy, we took a trip to Ikea, Sheesh came to visit, and I realized that I don't really like the taste of 2% milk anymore.

The other night, while packing, or unpacking, or doing something move related, I decided that I would have a nice big glass of milk. I've been a milk drinker since my childhood - my standard elementary school lunch for several years was a baloney sandwich with yellow mustard on white bread, a bag of chips, a green apple, and a thermos full of milk, which was usually lukewarm by the time lunch rolled around. Dinner usually featured a glass of cold milk as well. My culinary tastes have evolved since then (thank goodness), but I've remained an avid milk drinker. Times were kinder and gentler back then and no one was really concerned about trans, saturated, carbs, no carbs, etc, and we were a 2% family.

Back to the other night…I pour myself a big glass of milk and I'm packing up boxes. I take a sip and after swallowing it, I realize that the entire inside of my mouth is coated with a thin film. Gross! It was entirely possible that the milk had spoiled, as Emmmm and I hadn't eaten a home cooked meal in weeks.

I sniffed it. It didn't smell spoiled.

I took another sip.

Same film, no spoiled taste.

I decided to investigate further by looking at the expiration date, and it turns out that the milk hadn't even reached the sell by date. Then, I looked at the carton and noticed that it was 2%.

Suddenly it all came together… my mind raced through a series of houses and roommate situations… where various roommates would only drink skim, sorority sisters who didn't eat let alone drink anything that might have fat in it, parents who had converted to skim to be more "heart healthy", society at larges ungodly fear of anything that might even have fat in it, and I suddenly realized I couldn't even remember the last time that I had a glass of milk that wasn't skim.

My best guess is that it was circa 2002 when I lived with the Grindstaff's and accidentally drank a glass of whole milk (They were a Vitamin D family… needless to say, I had my own carton in the fridge that summer).

So yes, I am formally bidding adieu to the last bit of my childhood as the 2% goes the way of baloney sandwiches on white bread and potato chips.

Even with the new apartment and all of the very adult things that we do, It's hard to grow up sometimes.

BEST Great Box Hunt EVER

2006-12-01T10:17:00.000-05:00

So, Emmmm and I are moving yet again… for those of you keeping tally, this will be residence number 4 in the DC metro area. I don't want to talk about the various circumstances that have led to this. They aren't pleasant.

Anyway, after our last move (11 months ago), I threw out the various cardboard boxes I had acquired because they were crumbling and gave my darling sister all of my rubbermade totes for her move. I was banking on the fact that I would live in my current apartment for more than one year, which in retrospect, was an extremely ignorant assumption to make.

Long story short: We needed boxes.

Emmmm purchased some boxes on E-bay and we both thought everything was peachy keen, but it turns out that the seller was beyond shady and after a few screaming matches with various individuals at a UPS warehouse located Illinois, she came to the realization that the boxes were not coming.

We were out $25. We needed boxes.

This prompted what I am going to term "The Great Box Hunt of 2006". Here is the recap of the all consuming box hunt:

Wednesday:
8:05 am - Got in elevator at our apartment building. There was a girl with two boxes. I asked "are you throwing those away?" It turns out she was, and she offered them to me instead. She gave me a lead on the possibility of more boxes on the dock behind our apartment.

9:00 am - Carpooled into work. Carpool buddy offered 8 UPS boxes from her recent move. She suggested I contact various other coworkers who have also recently moved.

10:02 am - Emmm emails me a Craigs list posting about banana boxes in Falls Church. Posting said boxes were on front porch for first person to come get them.

12:00 pm - Had lunch with a coworker. After explaining my dilemma, he suggested that I inquire with the print shop at work about empty boxes.

1:15 pm - Print shop gave me one box and promised to stash any extras away for me. Guy at the print shop told me that empty boxes are usually placed by 9th floor freight elevator.

1:18 pm - Acquired three boxes from closet by 9th floor freight elevator.

7:00 pm - Drove to Falls Church and picked up six banana boxes from front porch of a house. As an added bonus, my car smells vaguely like bananas now.

8:30 pm - Went to dock behind our apartment building and acquired three more boxes.

Day 1 Actual Box Count: 15
Promised boxes: 8

Thursday:
9:00 am - Sent email to various coworkers who have recently moved asking for boxes. Was promised five rubbermade totes.

11:00 am - Rummaged around office (different office than on Wednesday) and found two boxes. Coworker sent me an instant message saying that two boxes were in her office that I could have.

12:00 pm - After recounting my Falls Church experience and the resulting banana smell in my car, another worker promised some additional rubbermade totes.

11:15 pm - After a work event, went and picked up promised five rubbermade totes.

Day 2 Actual Box Count: 9

So that brings us to today. Right now, Emmmm and I are working on a few leads from Craigs List (we may be appearing in Rockville, Adams Morgan, and Alexandria this weekend to pick up them up from various locations). I'm going to swing by and pick up the 8 UPS boxes promised on Wednesday and the coworker who promised additional rubbermade totes yesterday is going to do a handoff with Emmmm this afternoon. Apparently, he emptied out totes that had things stored in them for us to borrow… "I've got boxes for you and a pile of Christmas decorations sitting on my floor"

Ah yes, the Great Box Hunt of 2006*. May it never happen again….

*Note: If you are moving, please contact me in two weeks. I will have boxes for you.

BEST Thanksgiving Travel EVER

2006-11-22T08:36:00.000-05:00

Hi, Kimmmmm here. The plan was for me to update the blog with a live feed of Emmmmm's cross country road trip as she drove home to Indiana in a car full of Lauxers. Unfortunately, at the time of her traveling, I was up at Four Courts with three Texans and a Marylander. Here's a recap of the journey:

8:50 pm:
We left around 8:35. Thanks for the frosty treat. I drank the entire thing before we got to PJ's (lauxer's bro).
Laux was feeling queasy before they picked me up so I told him I'd bring acidopholous for him to neutralize the stomach acid. He didn't have anything to drink with it so he followed it with the iced coffee. That's right, he chased acidopholous with liquid acid.

9:00 pm:
Laux: I hate all these sons of bitches from Maryland. They're probably all janitors working for Virginians.
We just passed the md state sign and mike boo'd. I think we just saw a car reverse to stay in VA longer.
Song playing: Sail Away - Styx

10:28 pm:
Getting ready for our first pit stop. We're not going to a reststop b/c mike is afraid of seeing some male sex in the bathroom.
Have you ever been to Walldrug?
The only living boy in NY - Paul Simon

11:21 pm:
Still haven't stopped for a break. Yo necesito ir al bano.
Can't Get Next To You - The Temptations

2:45 am:
I just finished my 3 hour shift and it was muy dificil. We are stopped to fill up the tank and grab a bite to eat. McDs is the only thing open and they have a menu of about five items. I got the one nonmeat item as I haven't had dinner yet. A cinnamon roll. Now I'm nauseous b/c my body is rejecting it.
Katie had fries and soda. She just burped and said it tasted like America - fries and soda.
Time to catch some zzzzs now. I didn't blink for most of my shift.
Toledo 126 hrs. Worst case scenario we'll meet my sis in 3 hours.
Mike just said we have a full tank of gas so it's perfect time to moon someone b/c you just keep on driving.
Bad Moon Rising - CCR

4:18 am:
I think I slept for 30 mins. Not much of ohio left. I say "o-h" here but no one responds with "i-o." They respond with "w-i" . . . "s-c-o-n-s-i-n.".
Just passed toledo - my birthplace.
Farmhouse - Phish

5:55 am:
Kim* picked me up 45 mins from home. It's just the homestretch now. The wisconsinites have to face chicago at morning rushhour. Godspeed to them.
It's cold outside. In the 20s I think. I'm so over winter already.

*Note: Emmmmm has a sister who is also named Kim.

6:22 am:
A few nice things about Indiana:
1. Zero traffic
2. Smooth roads
3. Almost home
Listening to the radio now.

7:00 am:
Home at Last! Time to hit the sack. Can't think. So tired. Good night.

BEST Homeless Help EVER

2006-11-21T13:55:00.000-05:00

I'm not sure if it was because it is almost Thanksgiving and we felt like being thankful for all we have. Or, if it's because a few weeks ago we were on our way to homelessness if we could not find a new home by the end of the year. Or, maybe it's because our company was a major sponsor at the event and paid our entry fee. Whatever the case, Kimmmmm and I woke up bright and early on Saturday morning to help the homeless people of Washington DC. You may be asking yourself, "What did you do to help? Did you build homes with Habitat for Humanity? Did you serve food at the soup kitchen? Did you work at a clothing drive?" The answer to these questions is "No."

Instead, we did something that would provide obvious benefits to the homeless. . . We walked. That's right, no money was exchanged, no homes were built, no food was prepared, no clothes were provided. Just a little parade with thousands of others around the Tidal Basin at the Help the Homeless Walkathon.

And similar to other charity events we've participated in, this one was filled with unintentional comedy and horrible, horrible irony.

The morning of the walk was pretty chilly, which was fitting I suppose, since it made me appreciate the very warm home I was sleeping in just moments before leaving home to help the homeless. To any event, we dressed appropriately in many layers of hooded sweatshirts and down vests. And when we arrived at the event, we were given the one-size-fits-all, long-sleeved T-shirts that all the participants wore. It turns out that one-size-does-not-fit-all unless "all" wear an XXXXXXXL. I couldn't help but think of the horrible, horrible irony of us receiving a shirt to pull over our layers and layers of clothes. Wouldn't it have been more appropriate to give the Help the Homeless shirts to the actual homeless we were allegedly helping?

Well, we pulled our oversized tees over our layers and headed over to the National Mall where Adrian Fenty shared some words of compassion before he shaked some hands and kissed some babies. Following his presentation, they unveiled another keynote speaker: Jewel. She blessed us with her presence as she recapped her experience of living in a car and being asked for sexual favors in exchange for money before making it big. And for those of you that were living under a rock for the past ten years, this was the first time you heard her story. Perhaps my favorite memory of the speech was when I looked over at one of my friends and she started clapping and shouting, "Woooo Jewel. Play Hands." Jewel did not perform "Hands." Frankly, I'm not sure if Jewel even walked, which by definition in my book, means she's pro-homeless.

At long last, the walk began. And by "walk," I mean swerve in and out of the other people like I do when I'm driving in Maryland. While walking, we started to strategize what we would do when we were confronted by the homeless during the walk. I decided I would give them a wink while pointing and saying, "This walk's for you….Oh, and you over there on the heater… Hey, and you in the back with the shopping cart." I was positive they would share such gratitude for our early morning sacrifice.

Well, we were never given the opportunity to confront the homeless, because for the first time in the history of the National Mall, we did not see a single homeless person. At first, someone suggested that they must have "cleared them out of the area to make sure it looked nice for the walkers." Which, again, contains such horrible, horrible irony. Then, it suddenly occurred to us what had really happened-- we saved the homeless by walking! Yes, we metaphorically built houses. Every step was a nail in a board.

There you have it. The secret to putting people in homes is walking. If there is a lesson to be learned over the past year of charity events, it is this: Serving beer cures kidney problems, bowling helps kids read, cutting down trees takes pride in America, and walking provides homes to the homeless.

In the spirit of the holidays, I recommend you put on your walking shoes and get outside. I think we can finally put an end to this homeless dilemma that has been plaguing the area for far too long. Just one step at a time. Literally.

BEST Publishing EVER

2006-11-21T09:46:00.000-05:00

Just several days after spotting Philllll's post in the WaPo Express Blog Log, look who else appeared...

As if writing a blog isn't self-indulgent enough, I had to go ahead and post our post that was in the Post. So, do you think it's appropriate to add this to my resume under "publishings?"

BEST Rivalry EVER

2006-11-19T12:14:00.001-05:00

Let's get ready tooooo rummmbbblleeee!

For all OSU/UM fans, nay, for all college football fans, there was but one item on the agenda this weekend: #1 thee Ohio State University vs. #2 University of Michigan.

The winner of this game would determine the Big Ten Champion, but more importantly, it could guarantee Ohio State's place in the BCS title game.

So, in preparation of the biggest regular season OSU football game of the year between the biggest rivalry in college football, Kimmmm and I headed up to Willie & Reed's with my aunt and uncle to cheer on the Buckeyes with a gazillion other Ohio State fans.

And cheer, we did. When my aunt led the battle cry with "O-H…," we responded with the other fans with "…I-O!" And when they blared "Hang on Sloopy" over the speakers, we sang right along. All of that cheering did not go unnoticed, for the Buckeyes won 42-39. I mean, I'm not saying that we won the game for OSU (I'm sure the fellows on the field were working hard), but it just seems pretty coincidental that the very game we lost our voices to was the very game that will send the Buckeyes to Arizona to reclaim the national title in January.

Coincidence? I think not.

Don't you worry, Coach Tressel, we'll cheer our hearts out come January 8th!

To sum up:

OSU's ranking before Saturday's game: #1

OSU's ranking after Saturday's game: #1

BEST German Food, Opera, and Britney Spears EVER

2006-11-18T12:53:00.000-05:00

This past week, I attended a professional networking event... an Opera Night at Cafe Mozart. That's right, accountants know how to boogie....opera style. The night was sort of fun, and unintentionally comical.... I had dressed almost exactly like one of my coworkers. For those of you who have never been there before (which I'm assuming is a lot of you), Cafe Mozart is a german restaurant located by McPherson Square. If you are looking for good german cuisine, Cafe Mozart isn't probably the best place to get it. Admittedly, when it comes to bratwurst and the like, I am a bit of a snob, but the food really wasn't that great... I had the sausage platter with one bratwurst and one knackwurst, neither of which were anything to write home about. Fortunately, there was a good selection of wines and beers, which sort of made up for the ehhhh food.

And of course, the entertainment. So, the Opera Night was composed of an elderly man and an elderly woman singing opera songs, walking around the restaurant as patrons ate. It was an intimate venue, the room probably held about 40 people, and yes, it was as incredibly awkward and cheesy as it sounds.

In addition to the opera songs, which were nice, they sang several selections from old timey musicals, such as South Pacific and Oklahoma. Most of the patrons sang along to the song from Oklahoma (you've heard it... it starts..."Oh what a beautiful morning... "), which in combination with a few glasses of wine and a dinner I just picked at instead of actually eating made me laugh, because I am wondering what songs they'll be singing in Cafe Mozart fifty years from now, when I am elderly and ready to sway along to the music. I can't wait for it to be "Toxic" and "My Hips Don't Lie".

BEST Veterans Day Shout-Out EVER

2006-11-13T22:04:00.000-05:00

Well, well, well. I was minding my own business this morning, glancing through the Express, when low and behold, I come across this...

Congrats Phillllll! Kimmmm and I feel so privileged to be friends with a published writer! It was quite the tribute, which is what I would expect from somebody that is pro-Marine!

BEST Veterans Day EVER

2006-11-13T13:02:00.000-05:00

This past Friday, instead of going to work, I went to the DC Veterans Hospital instead and participated in a work sponsored community service event. The Veterans History Project set each volunteer up to record the stories of veterans, which will be included in the American Folk Life Collection at the Library of Congress. That's right, very soon, you too will be able to request "Kimmmm on Tape" through the Library of Congress.

Anyway, each of us got paired up with our very own real live veteran to tape record for the collection. I was really nervous going into this because I was worried that I would be paired up with an extremely young person, or that I wouldn't know what to say. Fortunately, my veteran was a talkative man who had served in both the Korean and Vietnam Wars. We had a really good conversation that went all over the place including race relations in DC, how DC has changed in the past 60 years, real estate prices, nightclubs, bars, women, living overseas, how his family ran a blackmarket of ration coupons during WW2, actual combat in the Korean War, corned beef and cabbage (his first meal in the military) and his family.

While he was telling me about how afraid he was for his 20 year old son, who is stationed in Iraq until June, he started crying. My eyes welled up too.

Even though I've participated in various community service type events, through work and otherwise, this was probably one of the most eye opening experiences that I've had in quite some time.

Happy Belated Veterans Day.

BEST Borat EVER

2006-11-10T15:32:00.000-05:00

Just an update: My mini-strike of not blogging that no one really knew about has ended. Emmmm and I are signing an apartment lease this weekend and you will soon be able to find us as barfly's at Cap Lounge rather than Four Courts.

So this past weekend, I went and saw the movie that everyone seems to be blogging or talking about… Borat. Apparently, he's also pissed off the nation of Kazakhstan, who is taking out ads in papers such as the New York Times, etc stating that Kazakhstan is a wonderful place to be and has many wonderful things… Some of the unwitting stars of the show (namely the RV full of frat boys) are embarrassed about their actions.

NPR even did a story about how the character of Borat is a wonderful political satire as Borat's bumbling attitude exposes deep seated prejudices of ordinary Americans… such as the cheering rodeo crowd when Borat says, "May George W Bush drink the blood of every Iraqi man, woman, and child." They didn't come out and say it, but the story definitely wanted to proclaim Sasha Cohen a comic genius.

What all of the allegedly "credible" sources failed to mention was the one thing that my sister (who incidentally hated the movie) did… "there is some full frontal male nudity that is really disgusting. It made me throw up in my mouth a little bit".

So, having all of these expectations and fair warning, I went and actually saw the movie so I could decide for myself. It turns out that the movie is a bit of everything, but not any one thing… it is offensive to those of Kazak descent, full of unwitting and dim witted Americans, contains a rodeo, and yes, had some gratuitously disgusting scenes that went on entirely too long and caused me to literally turn my head away from the screen.

So, go, see the movie, but don't expect anything except some mindless laughter. And in this day and age, isn't that all we really need anyway?

I'll end with the words of Borat himself, "To the world, I love you! Apart from Uzbekistan. "

BEST "Oops! We Did It Again" EVER

2006-11-08T21:31:00.000-05:00

It's that time of year again. I'm not talking about the leaves changing colors or the holidays approaching.

I'm talking about the time that Kimmm and Emmmm decide to find a new home. Seeing as this will be our fourth move in three and a half years, it was a shocking realization when I recently learned that most people do not move this often. Then again, Kimmm and I are not most people.

As it turns out, people often stay at a location for longer than 12 months. Apparently, the endless chore of apartment shopping, packing/unpacking, setting up utilities, etc. with the added kicker of paying double-rent for the month they decide to relocate isn't all it's cracked up to be. (If anything, moving generally gives us blogworthy material.)

So this is it. This is our final destination. We're making the big move to Cap Hill, where we intend to stay put. And, under no circumstances are we going to be moving next year.

Just like we said at the past three places.

BEST Lombardi Gala EVER

2006-11-07T22:18:00.000-05:00

On Saturday night, Emmmmm, Chrissy, Kimmy, and I volunteered at the Lombardi Gala, which is an event to raise money for cancer research. I was sort of excited because I had never been to a gala before. Plus, if you volunteered, you got to wear a cocktail dress. And we all know that we aren't the type of girls who pass up the chance to wear a cocktail dress when the occasion arises.

Volunteering shift one involved monitoring a silent auction. We were in the "home" section, which is sort of ironic considering that Emmmm and I will have no home in a few months. So, we stood their looking nice amid the crystal chandeliers, heavy expensive looking tables, and rugs. As I was standing there, something occurred to me. The people at this thing were loaded. Bids were being thrown down in the $1,000's without so much as batting an eye. This was the prime spot for people watching... from our vantage point behind the table, we had an unobstructed view of the whole room.

The silent auction got really fun towards the end though… with a mere 30 seconds to go, people got the crazed glint in their eyes and started hovering near the items that they needed to have. The auction ended, and as we were quickly picking up the bid sheets, this one woman started screaming at another about the fairness of bids placed on a crystal chandelier. She hissed "you were hovering right there to beat my bid". Even though the whole point of a silent auction is to beat someone else's bid, apparently, it doesn't go over very well if the other person really really really wants the item.

After shift one it was time for a small break, some sprite and cookies.

Shift two involved going into the gala, locating the winners, and telling them that they had won. I was a little bit apprehensive about this initially, because I wasn't sure how well someone walking up to a complete stranger and interrupting the dinner that they had paid $400 for was going to go over. But it turns out that it went over just fine, because people at gala's love winning things!

So, the four of us became gala Santa Clauses, bringing tidings of great winnings to those who were attending this event. When you approached the table and said "hello, I'm looking for so and so" everyone's eyes lit up and then as the anticipation built you said, "because you won blah blah". It was great! People loved you!

As I found out, sometimes, they loved you a little bit too much. My second winner was an older looking gentleman, and when I found him, he said, "Holy moly! Did I win you?" to which I brightly replied "Nope, but here's the next best thing!" and shoved a box of tools at him.

Meanwhile, outside of the gala, the picking up of winning items and processing the payment was pure pandemonium. Emmmm, being the super auditor that she is noted (and yes, I said "noted" because that's an auditor word) that the credit card slips that people were signing were all in the amount of $0.00. Keeping the best interest of the Lombardi Gala in mind and the money this event was supposedly raising, she decided to take action. Right in the middle of 30 plus people shuffling boxes, platinum credit cards, and the like, Emmmm issued an audit finding.

"Why aren't you having people sign receipts with actual amounts?!?! They can dispute the charges tonight and you won't have any legal claims to the money because they authorized you to charge $0.00!!!"

It turns out that the credit card amounts would be sent over later on to the companies and that the charges would appear on Monday. It also turns out that the volunteers were much more focused on moving the stuff out of the auction room than having a good internal control structure, and hence Emmmm's doomsday warnings fell on deaf ears. However, inside the gala room, she found much more sympathy as she was forced to explain the reason for the $0.00 credit card bill over and over again. One gentleman remarked, " 30 years from now and you'll be running this operation".

After the gala festivities were over, the four of us hit the town for some post gala celebration which involved martini's at Russia House and seeing the sights that are Halloween in Dupont Circle, but that is another post for another time.....

BEST Politically Correct Halloween Costume EVER

2006-11-01T21:58:00.000-05:00

My college friend that lives out here just invited us to an After Halloween-Halloween Party on Friday and we decided we needed to come up with a last minute costume idea. Nothing scary. Nothing that requires face paint or a mask. Nothing sleazy or revealing.

Well, we started brainstorming what we could throw together on a whim and the following conversation took place:

Emmmm: We could be something "DC."

Kimmmm: How about the Washington Monument?

Emmmm: How?

Kimmmm: All we have to do is wear something white that's pointy at the top and have a light that flickers.

Emmmm: Okay, let me get this straight. You think we should wear a white gown or robe, a white hood that comes to a point at the top, and carry around something that flickers, perhaps like a torch? And you don't see any problem with this???

Needless to say, the Washington Monument idea fell through, but we're still looking for ideas. This is where we need your help. Please post comments if you have any great (preferably funny and original) last minute Halloween costume ideas.

BEST Public Service Announcement EVER

2006-10-30T14:00:00.000-05:00

Emmmm and I have many unintentionally comical things to post about, but unfortunately, time is a bit short today, so I just wanted to remind everyone that the Virginia election is coming up on Tuesday, November 7.

I urge you to vote for the Senator and Representative of your choice, party, or best attack ad. As an added bonus, during this election, the state of Virginia is also going to legally define marriage (a party with a big white dress, open bar, spilled drinks, boquet catches, and dancing to MeatLoaf...duh)

Don't worry, I've done the legwork... all you need to do is Read Up

We'll get back to the comedy before too long, I promise!

BEST Open Letter to Leasors in DC EVER

2006-10-26T12:16:00.000-05:00

Dear DC Real Estate Agents and Apartment Owners,

Given the recent events of the real estate search by both Em and myself, I would like to clarify the definition of a "bedroom". A bedroom must meet the following requirements:

1. Big enough to fit a bed and dresser
2. Has a closet
3. Has a window

Any room in your home/apartment that does not meet all three of the above listed requirements should be listed either as "den", "library", "sitting room", "office", or "space that could be a bedroom if you only have a futon and don't own anything else".

If the room meets the three above listed mandatory requirements, and you still say "So, would this place be for BOTH of you?" when Emmm and I show up to look at your alleged two bedroom apartment, you may want to reconsider how you are labelling it. The reason we showed up in the first place was because you SAID you HAD a TWO bedroom. There are TWO of us, hence the need for a TWO bedroom. Real estate is scarce and expensive in this city. Generally if someone is looking for a two bedroom apartment it is because they have two people, one for each room.

Thank you for your prompt attention to this matter,
Kimmmmm
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dear everyone else,
We here at Best Summer Evah are experiencing a small real estate related crisis as we gear up for move number FOUR in THREE years. We are attempting to be as optimistic as possible, but there may not be a whole bunch of postings in the coming days as most online time is spent attempting to locate a place to live in January. I guarantee though, we have many unintentionally comical, yet horrendous stories about the apartment search which will seem a lot funnier once we sign a new lease.

Speaking of which... does anyone out there have a two bedroom, two bath (or one) apartment, within walking distance of either the Capitol South or Eastern Market metro for rent which will not end up costing us an arm and a leg?

Hugs and Kisses,
Kimmmmmmm

BEST Cable Hookup EVER

2006-10-22T10:06:00.001-05:00

Flashback to January 2006. Kimmmm and I move (yet again) to a new home. In doing so, we make all the necessary arrangements for our utilities.

Electricity? …..Check.

Gas? …..Check.

Phone? …..Check.

Cable? Not so fast.

A few weeks before the move, I called the cable company to arrange a specific time for the Cable Guy to stop by and do what it is they do to officially set-up our cable. That time came and passed. We never saw said Cable Guy, but when we turned on the TV, we miraculously had cable. Like any other reasonable person, we assumed they were able to take care of it without ever entering our apartment.

A couple months pass, and we pay a couple months worth of utility bills. All utility bills except for cable. That's interesting. I figure I better give the cable company a ring to make sure our bill was not lost in the mail.

Me: Hi. I'd like to pay my cable bill for the past couple months, but I have yet to receive a bill.

Cable Guy: Okay, what is your account number?

Me: I'm not sure.

Cable Guy: You can find it on your bill in the mail.

Me: I'm not receiving bills. That's why I'm calling.

Cable Guy: You can set-up an account online and pay that way.

Me: I tried paying online and it asked me the same thing. How do I figure out my account number?

Cable Guy: You can find it on your bill.

Me: Sigh. Yes, but I am not receiving bills.

This vicious cycle continued for close to an eternity.

Me: Well, can I give you other information to retrieve my account number?

Cable Guy: Okay. Let's try that.

I proceed to give him my name, address, phone number, SSN, first born…

Cable Guy: It looks like you do not have any account with us.

Me: But I have cable.

Cable Guy: Hmmmmm.

Me: Can you just turn it off since I'm not getting a bill from you?

Cable Guy: We'd have to do that from the outside of your building.

Please note that we live in a building of about 500 units. For them to turn off cable, they would be angering 499 other units.

Me: Interesting.

Cable Guy: Interesting.

Me: So, am I going to get a cable bill 10 months down the road?

Cable Guy: You do not have an account with us.

Me: Yeah, I think we've established that.

Free cable. I like it. If anything, it will take a little sting out of the pain of writing ridiculous rent checks. And I can sleep at night, too, knowing I tried my best to pay for it!

Fast forward to present day. Kimmmm and I have been enjoying 10 months of free cable. Until Thursday night. We really only watch TV on one night. For one-half hour. For one particular show. That show being The Office. It is approximately 20 minutes into the show, when suddenly out of nowhere, Karma reared its ugly head at us. The show went fuzzy, but the sound quality was fine and we could still make out what was happening.

Me (laughing hysterically): That's just great! Do you think they shut off our cable? Our free cable?
Kimmmm (also laughing hysterically): No, it's probably happening all around the building. I'll check the TVs in the workout facility.

Kimmmm returns from the workout facility to inform me that all of the televisions have perfect cable.

Just then, we hear a little shuffling noise at the door. We hear that noise pretty often as advertisements are regularly shoved under our door. Kimmmm walks over to the door to pick up the latest piece of trash. But before she tossed it into the trashcan, she turned around choking on her laughter and said, "It's for cable."

Coincidence? I think not.

I cannot wait to receive our cable bill for the past 10 1/2 months.

BEST Political Ad EVER

2006-10-21T15:57:00.001-05:00

Just when I thought that the state of politics in America had reached a new low, I saw this attack ad on television.

It doesn't matter if you are a republican or a democrat... I think that we can all agree that this is hysterical.

BEST Last Day of Eating Solid Food EVER

2006-10-18T15:08:00.000-05:00

At 8 am sharp tomorrow morning, I am getting my wisdom teeth removed. Now, you are probably saying to yourself, "Why didn't Kimmmm have her wisdom teeth removed when she was 16 like everyone else?" It turns out that my childhood dentist was a very neglectful man, who never felt the need to pull four teeth out of my head for the sake of pulling four teeth out of my head. How I miss that man and his free toothbrushes.

Unfortunately, every other dentist on the face of this planet is under the impression that they should have come out years ago. The varying diagnosis of "get your wisdom teeth removed" and "Oh my gosh….you still have your wisdom teeth?!?!" has caused me to spend the past three years dentist shopping, hoping in vain to find someone who will say, "Let's just leave them in. They aren't hurting you".

Anyway, this past time (at the fourth dentist I have seen in the past three years), the Dentist decided it was time to have a very serious talk with me. Apparently, one of my wisdom teeth has a cavity. He said "You're not brushing them well. You can't even reach back there I bet" to which I defiantly answered, "Will you be able to reach back there to fill the cavity?"

Long story short, I decided that the time has come for me to face the music and commit to a single dentist in the DC metro area. As a sign of this newfound relationship with my dentist, I am going to let him take my wisdom teeth out, something that I probably should have had done years ago. This is a very big step in our relationship, as I am one of the most squeamish people on the face of this planet.

So that's what's new with me. I plan on spending the next few days eating painkillers like they are M&M's, drooling for hours on end, and enjoying a liquid only diet.

BEST I live in NoVA EVER

2006-10-18T10:31:00.000-05:00

A huge shout out to Kate for sending me this link. It's about how NoVA (northern Virginia) differs from RoVA (the rest of Virginia). Obviously, even though my car plates say "Virginia", I still consider myself to be from the DC Metro area rather than the state of Virginia.

Here are the major differences between RoVA and NoVA:

· In RoVa, they hope the South will rise again. In NoVa, they hope the souffle will.
· In NoVa, a lab is the family dog. In RoVa, a lab is the family meth business.
· In NoVa, people spend their dough at Starbucks, shooting the breeze. In RoVa, people spend time in the breeze, shooting does and bucks.
· In NoVa, a "fur piece" is something a woman wears on a special occasion. In RoVa, a "fur piece" is unit of distance.
· In RoVa, people pick blackberries. In NoVa, people click BlackBerrys.
· In NoVa, they listen to NPR. In RoVa, they listen to the NRA.
· NoVa has Crate & Barrel. RoVa has Cracker Barrel.
· NoVa: Chain Bridge. RoVa: Chain saw.
· In RoVa, they like freshly killed venison. In NoVa, they like Alfred, Lord Tennyson.

BEST Thank goodness I'm not in Western New York EVER

2006-10-16T13:36:00.000-05:00

I spent the majority of my childhood in Western New York, the land where chicken wings are good, pizza is even better, trips to Niagara Falls are numerous, groceries are bought at Wegmans, and the lake effect snow flies for 9 months of the year. Granted, many a childhood Halloween have fond memories of snow, but I think that most native Western New Yorkers would agree with me in saying that a snowstorm in mid-October is just ridiculous.

Fortunately, I no longer live in the tundra that is Buffalo, NY and didn't have to spend the weekend digging myself out and wondering when the power was going to come back on. However, much of my family did.

I suggest that you check out Sheesh!'s blog for a first hand account of the first unbelievably early snow storm of the year.

BEST Look Ma I'm in New York EVER

2006-10-11T17:39:00.000-05:00

My first attempt to appear in the today show pen happened during August 2003. Phillip and I woke up at 4 am, got in line, waited behind some very ridiculous people from Alaska with glitter in their hair, and hastily made a poster. At 6:59 am, we were jammed into the pen with the rest of humanity. At 7:00 am the Today Show credits ran, at 7:02 am the sky opened up, drenching us and our crappy poster. At 7:03 am, we decided that appearing on the Today Show was wayyyy overrated and went to get coffee and bagels.

Despite this, for the past three years, I've sort of had the idea in the back of my head that appearing on the Today Show might not be overrated - I mean, these are the people that I generally wake up with every single day. I've laughed with them, cried with them, celebrated Katie's departure, etc. Yes, I needed to go there to experience the magic for myself.

Fortunately, after the disastrous first attempt to appear on the show, I've had ample time to do research, which has primarily consisted of watching the Today Show. A few weeks ago, Emmmm, who has similar ambitions and I decided the time had come. We were going to be on the Today Show.

At the risk of giving away all of the secrets of a successful appearance, I'm going to post some helpful hints about picking the perfect time to be in the Today Show pen.

Do not go during the summer or holiday. This is when people not from New York City come to New York City to visit. They also want to appear on the Today Show, and because they've travelled farther, they want it more. Those people from Alaska in 2003 made it very clear that anyone who attempted faced a very strong possibility of being bludgeoned to death by an icicle or attacked by a penguin.

Don't go on the weekends. Again, tourists. If it's a holiday weekend, you might as well shoot yourself in the leg while giving a gun safety demonstration and then sue the internet for playing the video, because you'll have a better chance of appearing on the show than being in the crowd. Tuesday and Wednesday are the prime days. Thursday isn't bad, especially if there is something big planned for that Friday.

Do not go when they have anything big planned. We went on a Thursday. Janet Jackson was performing the next day. I can guarantee we wouldn't have been as close Matt, Meredith, and Al if we had been there during the Janet concert. Granted, we would have seen Janet for free, but that was not the point of this outing.

The 8 o clock hour is definitely better. During the 8 o clock hour is when the personalities really "cut loose" and the show gets fun. Everyone else gets there foolishly at 4 am, appears at 7 am and leaves by 8 am. We woke up around 6:30, departed around 6:45, arrived around 7:15, popped over to the drug store to buy some water, place some phone calls home, etc, and made it to the show with ample time for the 8 am hour.

Anyway, to make a long story short, using the above mentioned tips, Emmmm and I found ourselves in the Today Show pen with plenty of room to spare. We got a close up glimpse of Matt, Meredith, Al, and Ann.

Here's the thing… appearing on the Today Show with such a small crowd makes you realize that wanting to appear on the Today Show in the first place (and this is hard for me to say because I really love the Today Show) is sort of ridiculous.

Emmmm and I found ourselves standing there, pondering the whole sudden shift in emotions (why again, did we want to do this? Did we really want to stay??). After having a brief conversation about how really weird the whole thing was, we decided to stay, after all, the calls had been placed to the Midwest and there were two 80 something women out there closely watching the television, hoping to catch a glimpse of their granddaughters. We had to stay. Not for us, but for them.

So, stay we did. We appeared in the background of a segment, waved at the cameras, and took some stalkeresque pictures. All in all, not a bad way to begin your day.

Best Commanding Band Name EVER

2006-10-10T22:03:00.000-05:00

A little over a week ago, Kimmm and I found ourselves in NYC. Again.

And we found ourselves at a concert. Again.

A Clap Your Hands Say Yeah concert. Again.

The concert was located at the Central Park Summerstage, and surprisingly, the acoustics were pretty superb. Saying that they sounded better than their Virgin Fest performance would be a significant understatement. Architecture in Helsinki opened, and they may have inspired me to take up the bongos. Kimmm sure is lucky to have me as a roommate. Think of all the beautiful bongo sounds she will get to ~~endure~~ enjoy every waking hour.

Anyhow, the reason I'm writing this, other than to announce that we went to yet another concert, is a result of this post I read after it was recommended on DCBlogs. Basically, the blogger talked about the "wooohoooing" that is so prevalent and unbelievably irritating at concerts. As a frequent attendee of musical performances, I can confirm that she is absolutely right.

However, while in NYC at the CYHSY concert, I think I stumbled upon a solution. It is entirely up to the band, but it just may work. Here's the secret: The band must take on a name that sends a subliminal message to the audience. It was very effective at the CYHSY concert, because at times, I would glance around the audience and notice an overwhelming response of individuals doing just as the band directed: clapping hands and saying yeah. I'm not exaggerating. At one point, Will (Kimmmm's college buddy) was standing next to me, and as I looked over at him, I noticed he was clapping his hands, and simultaneously saying (not shouting), "Yeah....Yeah.....Yeah...." Coincidence? I think not.

It's brilliant! Now I'm even more excited to get my one-woman-bongo-band up and running. I think I'll go by Hop on One Foot or Give a Thumbs Up or Just Chant Emmmm. Yeah, that last one won't be creepy at all to hear an audience saying nothing but "Emmmmmmmm, Emmmmmmmmmm, Emmmmmmmmm." Realistically, if I intended to make a living off of my bongo playing talent, which is yet to be discovered, I should probably go by Donate lots of money to the woman on the bongos.

BEST Dynasty EVER

2006-10-08T10:25:00.000-05:00

All good things must come to an end. To the surprise of everyone, the Yankees ended an incredible season to the Detroit Tigers. And this was only a mere ten days after we saw them spank the Orioles 16 to 4 at Yankee Stadium. You will notice from my photo below that they have a little less trouble filling the seats than the Nats.

Less than six months left until I get to see Mr. Jeter and company back on the field in their pinstripes!

BEST Guess Where We Went to School EVER

2006-10-07T07:01:00.000-05:00

BEST Making a Difference in the DC Metro Area EVER

2006-10-06T08:05:00.000-05:00

When we started this blog, I never thought that Emmmm and myself would change the world. I figured the two of us would get a few cheap laughs and share the train wreck that is life in the DC metro area.

Then, the blog started to pay off. Winning a few tickets at Wolftrap, shout out on DC blogs, you know, the usual.

However, I think that we've managed to step our game up to a whole new level. I don't think that it’s a coincidence that I found this article TWO days after Emmmm's post about Dunkin's.

You can thank us as you enjoy your coffee coolatta and pumpkin spice muffins this fall. We do what we can.

BEST Wheeling and Dealing EVER

2006-10-04T22:39:00.000-05:00

Part I. The background.

I finally did it. I bought a car. After my previous 10-year-old American car (which is equivalent to approximately 50 years for foreign cars) died on I-66 in early-June, I tried my damn near best to avoid driving. I made it through three months of walking, skipping, jumping, or taking the metro.

But sometimes your best isn't good enough. Starting in mid-September, I was scheduled on a client out in Chantilly, VA for at least a couple months. I knew that I could get a ride for a couple weeks, but not the entire duration of the project. I considered alternative forms of transportation, but every idea failed miserably:

Vespa - Great gas-mileage, environmentally friendly, ability to zoom around cars. While I would probably max out at 30 mph, I am 99% certain an SUV would run over me.
Bicycle - Find me a safebike route that will take me all the way West to Dulles, and I'll consider it. Granted, that poses major issues as the weather worsens.
Metro - I think I could get over the fact that it would take 8 trillion years to metro out to Dulles, but I would be willing to overlook that for the sake of avoiding traffic while helping out the environment. Of course, unless it is the year 2050 and the Orange Line has been extended out to Dulles, then this is not an option.
My own two feet - They've managed to get me to a variety of places over the past few months. However, I think a 30-mile walk in the morning and again in the evening may be asking a bit much.
Zipcar - While a great idea if you only need it for an hour or two, it is really no different than a rental car if you need it for the entire day. At approximately $50/day, a car payment would be far more favorable.

Based on the alternatives listed above, you can see that I had no real option but to put on my best "responsible adult" face and go out and buy a car.

Part II. The purchase.

For the past couple weeks, I researched the "very low emissions" vehicles available, their respective prices, miles/gallon, available features, and specifically those vehicles that were available within several miles from home. Then I went to NYC, and the car purchasing was put on hold until last weekend.

When I returned home from NYC on Saturday evening, I decided I would go and check out a few cars before the dealership closed. When I rolled up to the dealership, a gentleman approached me and began the whole "What are you looking for? Used? New? Coupe? Sedan? Color? LX? EX?" I knew exactly what I wanted so I narrowed it down to two different models, then further down to one to test-drive. The salesman set me up in the car for a quick test-drive around the block. Let the awkward conversations begin.

Let me set the stage: I was in the driver's seat, he was in the passenger's seat. I made the mistake of asking how to adjust the steering wheel. He said he needed to reach underneath the wheel if I was okay with that. It was definitely a rhetorical question as he reached over my lap to adjust the wheel. If only I had known that this would have foreshadowed the remainder of my car purchasing experience.

As we're driving around the area, he's doing the whole sales pitch, while ensuring me he's not a "car salesman." As I try to focus on the performance of the car, he continues to highlight the miscellaneous features on the interior of the car-- you know, like the things that fall dead last on your priority list for buying a car.

Salesman: You can use this map lighting for reading maps in DC.

Me: Yeah, okay. So, should I go straight here?

Salesman: Oh, and a center console is great to place for your CDs, phone, iPoD. Do you have an iPod?

Me: I want to check out the breaks.

Salesman: Another great feature is the window-lock function. For your boyfriend or fiance' when he tries to roll the window down and you want it up.

I hate it when people do that. Try to find out about someone's personal life in a roundabout way, for example, demonstrating the window-lock feature on a car.

Me: So, left at the stop sign?

Well, long story short, I decided to get the car, so we parked the car and made our way over to his desk to start the wheeling and dealing. After all, nothing like an impulsive car purchase.

We talk numbers, I'm introduced to the finance guy, and the finance guy proceeds to run some numbers, validate my credit history, etc. The five minutes it took him to do this seemed like an eternity, based on the conversation salesman was trying to continue:

Salesman: Will you be needing a significant other to co-sign this?

Me: No.

Salesman: Are you married?

Me: No.

Salesman: Getting married in the near future?

Me: No time soon.

Salesman: Really? Do you have a boyfriend?

Where the hell is the finance guy??? For the love, I can crunch the numbers faster than this.

Salesman: Do you have any plans with your boyfriend tonight? This weekend?

Me: Nope, I just got back in town.

Salesman: Do you have a boyfriend?

Me: Not currently.

Salesman: I have to warn you, I'm a master at flirting, and I'm going to flirt with you. After we finish up the paperwork, do you want to see a movie?

You must be kidding me! I just bought a car from you and wrote the single-largest lump-sum check I've ever written! What more do you want?!!

With that said, had I known this conversation would have taken place, perhaps I should've given it some thought. I mean, cars are expensive these days. I definitely should have tried to work something into the price. Get your minds out of the gutter! I'm talking about a movie, maybe dinner-- I have no interest in becoming Pretty Woman.

Me: I'm tired. I was in NYC for the past four days.

Salesman: Oh, otherwise you would have?

Me: Er. Um.

Salesman: How about tomorrow night?

Me: I need to get some work done.

Salesman: Monday night?

Me: I'm really busy at work through November. (note that there IS truth to this statement.)

Salesman: Gosh, I'm going to start to think you're not interested. Well, if you ever want to do something, here's my card.

He proceeds to give me his card and circle his cell phone number.

Me: Well, you already have everything there is to know about me. My name, address, social security number, phone number, employer, salary, checking account number...

Finally the finance guy shows up with the forms for me to sign. And the salesman pipes in with one last item before shaking my hand to signify the sale (how salesman is that?):

Salesman: Every time I sell a car, I take a picture of the new car owner as I'm handing them the keys.

This has been confirmed. It is not just a ploy to take a photograph of a lady. He produced what must be a 3-inch-thick photo album of photos he's taken of the sales he's made in the past year. And, now I'm part of the collection. Not only does he have my name, address, social security number, phone number, employer, salary, checking account number, but he now has a digital photo of me.

I know Kimmmm and I were already discussing a potential move into the city, but now I think it is imperative that we relocate!

BEST Excuse to sit on your duff EVER

2006-10-04T14:55:00.000-05:00

One of the best parts about Fall is that the weather gets a bit cooler and the expectation that every single moment will be filled with something exciting fades.

That's right, with Fall comes the understanding that sometimes it's just okay to sit on your butt and watch television.

Which is what you'll find me doing every Thursday night, as The Office has premiered on NBC.

BEST Coffee EVER

2006-10-02T22:19:00.000-05:00

Throughout my childhood, my family would make frequent trips to Ohio to visit our relatives for birthdays and holidays. Insisting on making it a one-day trip, my parents always stopped for a hot cup of joe in the later hours on the way back to Indiana. Now, this wasn't just any cup of joe. This was specifically from Dunkin' Donuts*. Home of the best cup of coffee.

As you can imagine, as an eight-year-old, non-coffee-drinker, I was unimpressed with the wisdom my parents had just bestowed upon me.

Fast forward to this past week. Kimmmm and I made yet another trip to NYC (which will generate several more upcoming posts). Kimmmm began raving about the one thing you can find in NYC and not Washington DC. Any guesses? Here's a hint: it's not the Statue of Liberty, Empire State Building, or Derek Jeter. She was simply referring to the numerous Dunkin' Donuts locations throughout the city.

After we spent most of Thursday gallivanting around the city, Kimmmm was craving a cup of coffee, only she was really in the mood for something cold and refreshing. The perfect solution would be an iced coffee, right? Now, she didn't want just any iced coffee drink. She wanted it specifically from Dunkin' Donuts. Home of the best iced coffee drink. She vows that Dunkin' Donuts has consistently provided her with a perfect blend of coffee every single time she's ever been there.

And for those of you that were not aware, I am no longer an eight-year-old. However, I am still a non-coffee-drinker, and I was still unimpressed with the wisdom my roommate had just bestowed upon me.

Well, as we passed a nearby Dunkin Donuts, I kept Kimmmm company as she popped in to order her mouth-watering Coolatta. As she took the first sip, she was instantly in heaven and offered it to me to try.

"No thanks. I don't drink coffee."

"Just try it. It's a little piece of heaven."

"I don't want to be addicted to caffeine."

"You won't be addicted from one sip."

"Eh, what the hell…"

I grabbed a straw and took a sip.

"That. Is. AWESOME. It tastes like a chocolate milkshake."

"Nope, mostly just milk and ice, and a little bit of coffee. It's not even that bad for you."

I stuck my straw in for another sip. Absolutely as delicious as the first. Only this time, without even realizing it, I pulled out the straw and drained the other end of it into my mouth.

Kim shook her head and said, "You could've had another sip."

"No, I just couldn't waste one bit of this tasty little treat. I can't believe I'm already addicted to coffee."

"I told you they were to die for."

"Why did I wait so long to try this? I'm so sad that summer is over and I will have to wait until next summer to order Coolattas."

"False. They sell them year-round."

"Well, it's a good thing they aren't anywhere near us in DC, otherwise I'd get one everyday."

"False. They are just really, really far away from us in the DC metro area."

Well, when I returned to DC, staying true to my newfound addiction, I researched just how far away the nearest Dunkin' Donuts was. It turns out that we have our selection between two locations, both within 4-5 miles of home. Dunkin' Donuts is also looking for investors to franchise additional locations to meet the increased demand all over the country, including a proposed location in Arlington, VA. I'm in! Are there any other takers out there? Granted, I need to come up with a cool million to be considered. But just think of the benefits. I bet you receive Coolattas all the livelong day if you're a part-owner.

So that's where I am today, trying to strategize how I can consistently feed my addiction.

My advice to you, dear reader: If you find you are someone that develops addictions rather easily, NEVER EVER try a Dunkin' Donuts Coolatta. You will surely be hooked.

*Why, oh, why must they misspell "doughnuts?"

BEST Virgin EVER

2006-09-25T22:38:00.000-05:00

This past Saturday, we ventured up to our northern neighbor (AKA Maryland) to take in one of the eagerly anticipated Best Fall Ever events: the Virgin Festival. Before you start speculating as to what may go on at said Virgin Festival, let me explain the event. It is an all day concert featuring a variety of artists, sponsored by Virgin Mobile. What else could you mean by Virgin Festival???

Anyhow, Kimmmm, Kelli, a few of Kimmmm's college buddies (Justin, Kate & Luke), and I journeyed on up to the Preakness grounds to spend one glorious music-filled day. And a glorious day it was. The performers ranged from the New Pornographers to the Red Hot Chili Peppers. From Clap Your Hands Say Yeah to the Killers. From the Flaming Lips to Thievery Corporation. And of course, the biggest legendary draw: THE WHO

Based on the various artists that performed at a single venue, you can imagine the heterogeneous audience that attended such an event. Among the massive crowd of drunks, at any given time, I could observe aged hippies that probably attended the original Woodstock, a variety of costumes including the Swiss Miss girls and half-naked girls on stilts, college students from any area school in a 100-mile radius, and DC yuppies (such as ourselves).

My favorite fan was spotted during the CYHSY concert, which generally appeals to a rather mellow audience. Well, this particular fan was the only member of the audience that did not conform to the mellow ambiance. In fact, he danced his heart out, reminding me a lot of what a Richard Simmons aerobics class would instruct you to do ("Bounce, 2, 3, 4. Now shake 2, 3, 4. Now raise your hands and hold. Now, jump, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8."). As you check out the photo I snapped of my favorite fan, you will notice that not a single other person in the audience has arms flailing overhead like this man:

By any chance, does a specific Sesame Street song come to mind ("One of these things is not like the others...")???

Perhaps one of the most fascinating observations (that eventually turned into a game for us) was identifying the variety of concert tees everyone sported. I always thought it was a major fashion faux pas to wear a t-shirt of the actual concert you're attending. But as it turns out, the majority of people wore any concert tee, regardless of who was performing. Sure they wore shirts from previous the Flaming Lips and the Who concerts, but they also wore concert tees from Guns 'n Roses and Garth Brooks.

And then out of nowhere, the unthinkable happened: we spotted a Baha Men tee. Not only did somebody have the audacity to wear a shirt of the annoying group that sang "Who Let the Dogs Out," but that person had actually attended a Baha Men concert in order to purchase it. Great, now that damn song is in my head all over again.

All in all, we had a very memorable and very exhausting day. I still find it hard to believe that we saw the Who...or as Kelli put it: "the band that sings that CSI song."

BEST Plug EVER

2006-09-24T22:38:00.000-05:00

Well, well, well. As if the free tickets to Tea Leaf Green weren't enough of a plug, it looks like we're enjoying our 15-minutes all over again.

This is what was posted on DC Blogs last Thursday:

I think it's my turn to say, "I'm with the blogger..."

BEST When it Rains, it Pours EVER

2006-09-23T08:56:00.000-05:00

When life hands you lemons, I know you should make lemonade. But lately, I've just wanted to use those lemons to chase a few shots of Patron. After a fun-filled best summer ever and a great start to a best fall ever, the bests came to a screeching halt about a week ago.

Here is a recap of last week:

Saturday, September 16 - A couple months ago, my car bid adieu to its long-running, dependable life. Since I was working in the city throughout the summer, and I could get anywhere I needed by foot or metro, I was in no hurry to purchase a new car. Well, those days are over. Starting Monday, I would begin commuting out to Chantilly for work. This kind of commute necessitates a dependable car. Not a car that died on I-66 two months ago.

Well, I had an idea of what I wanted to buy (something that would not die on I-66 and was not too harmful to the environment), and what I wanted to spend (an amount that would not put an end to my quest to having a Best Fall Ever). And since my parents were in town for the weekend, they got to experience the pleasure of checking out a couple car dealerships with me. As it turns out, cars are a lot more expensive than they were 10 years ago (you know, when I obtained my first and only car to date). After spending a few hours looking and test-driving, I had it narrowed down to a couple different models, but I decided to think about it. Long story short, I walked away without a mode of transportation to get me to work on Monday.

(On the upside, my parents were in town and we went out to an delicious dinner with my aunt and uncle Saturday night).

Monday, September 18 - Here begins my "busy season," or rather, my uphill battle to enjoying the next two months. I returned to my longstanding client out in BFE (and I'm not talking about Best Fall Ever), where I will work crazy hours through November. Since I had not been on this client since November of last year, I forgot the joy of sitting in traffic while my life slowly passes me by. You may be wondering how I was able to enjoy such a spectacular commute since, after all, I no longer have a reliable mode of transportation. Well, the Wisconsinite was gracious enough to pick me up and drive me to work for the week.

(On the upside, he and I decided that we would continue our carpool even after I get a car in an effort to help save Mother Earth.)

Tuesday, September 19 - I decided I would start the day on a positive foot by jogging in the morning. Well, as I opened my bedroom door, a gigantic cockroach scurried past me into my room. I quickly ran to our cleaning supplies to grab a bottle of Raid. We did not own a bottle of Raid. We owned a bottle of Windex. I figured that could do a number on the crunchy bugger. I chased after it, but it rushed into my closet and hid itself beneath the boxes that line the floor of my closet. I put in a request to have our apartment fumigated, but our complex could not guarantee a visit until Wednesday. So that night, Kimmmm came home with a bottle of Raid and 18 little roach traps that are now discreetly placed throughout our apartment.

Despite our attempt at fumigating the apartment before the exterminator visit, I kept my closet door shut with plastic bags stuffed between the door and the carpet and a gigantic storage bin pushed up against the closet door. I know it may seem ridiculous, but I did not want my new little roommate to get cozy with me during the night.

(On the upside, I went jogging.)

Wednesday, September 20 - After a restless night of sleeping in fear that the hidden roach had given birth to hundreds of roach babies, I slowly got up and headed off to work. Regardless of how the day would go, I knew it'd end well because it was the day of our traditional happy hour hump day night.

However, when I arrived home after work and retrieved our mail, I was politely informed that at the end our lease in December, our rent would be increasing 25%. Come again??!! It's not as though we're paying pennies as it is. This is just days after Kimmmm and I decided that we were not going to move again until we were able to purchase homes (like in 2035). For the fourth time in three and a half years, we'll be going through the same old song and dance of finding a place to live in DC.

(On the upside, it gave us all the more reason to go out to Four Courts for happy hour hump day.)

Thursday, September 21 - Happy Hour Hump Day yielded a fabulous Thursday morning with major dehydration, a killer headache, endless nausea on a very long commute, and the constant reminder that we need to move.

(On the upside, the Office premiered!)

Friday, September 22 - Justin (Kimmmm's friend from college) arrived to visit for the weekend. After they had dinner, we all met up at Four Courts for a couple drinks. When I entered Four Courts, the ID checker at the door (I'd call him a bouncer, but he is hardly intimidating) asked to see my ID. This isn't bad, considering I'm almost flattered when people want to ID me now. But as I reached into my purse to present it to him, he said, "Nevermind, I remember you. You were here the other night." To what I replied, "Ummm, I'm not sure if that's a good thing." Okay, as long as we realize we have a problem, we only have eleven more easy steps to go.

(On the upside, I was carded.)

Whew! What a week! If you've made it this far, I thank you for your commitment to our blog... or rather, the slow-moving train wreck I like to call "my life."

Despite the storm cloud that has been over my head for the past week, I think sunny skies are in the future. The bests are already piling up as we eagerly anticipate the Virgin Festival on Saturday and another trip to NYC the following weekend to see CYHSY and the Yankees.

BEST Crime Spree EVER

2006-09-20T17:22:00.000-05:00

It is a given that the girl who grew up in the safest town in America would move to just outside a city that has one of the highest murder rates in the country.

But it turns out that these alleged statistics are just that… statistics. They aren't "real". This became painfully evident a few weeks ago, when my mother called to report a crime spree, in her neighbourhood, which happens to be located in the heart of the safest town in America. That's right, East Amherst, NY is under siege…a crime emergency if you will. She reported that the spare key they keep outside the house was missing, the side garage door was open, and that the glove compartment of the car had been rummaged through.

Being the good daughter that I am, I cautioned her to change the locks on the house and not keep a spare key outside the house.

Fast forward to a few nights ago. I get a phone call. Because my phone is microscopic and I can never find it when it rings buried at the bottom of my bag, I didn't actually answer it. The message was my mother saying, "Hi Kim, I'm calling to tell you about the crime…" followed by a good 2-3 minutes of hysterical laughing.

Fearing that this was the iguana story all over again (another post for another time), I nervously called home. It turns out that she was just calling to report that East Amherst was safe once again. A group of teenagers had been arrested in the neighbourhood for rummaging through cars and the like.

Doing what people do in the suburbs, the neighbors on the street starting to call around, asking if anyone else had a brush with the crime emergency. In doing this, my mother learned that one of the neighbors had reported that something was missing from their car….what was missing was actually the cause of the hysteria… it was a box of tic-tacs.

That's right, one of the most annoying forms of breath mints on the face of this planet (the stupid box makes too much noise and they never leave you with a minty fresh feeling) had been STOLEN. Not only STOLEN, but reported as STOLEN.

It's my hope that the hoodlums of the safest town in America never make their way to DC and that we can all continue walk around this city with our tic-tacs, altoids, Listerine strips, or what have you safe in our purses, pockets, cars, etc.

BEST Kristall EVER

2006-09-18T20:41:00.000-05:00

So, while at Whole Foods the other day, I decided that I wanted something that was a little bit carbonated to drink. I've discovered a new tasty treat... a soda from Sweden. It's call Kristall and it's yummy.

BEST Rock and Roll Hall of Fame EVER

2006-09-13T21:04:00.000-05:00

Before the wedding this weekend, we stopped in at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, which is located in Cleveland, Ohio. I had never thought of Cleveland as the birthplace of Rock and Roll… I sort of assumed that representatives from every other city in the world does have some sort of a music scene (Austin's Indie Scene, New Orleans jazz scene, San Francisco's jam scene, New York's punk scene, Memphis, Nashville, etc spring to mind) had gathered together and taken a vote to pick a neutral city with anti-Semitic* panhandlers to call the birthplace of rock and roll.

*This is a story for another time. Let's just say the people on the streets of Cleveland get a little testy when you don't give them cash.

However, I was mistaken. As I learned from the historic Ohio plaque from outside the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, Cleveland is indeed the birthplace of "Rock and Roll". And by "Rock and Roll" I mean, the words "Rock and Roll", not the music itself. The music was born in Memphis, with Elvis. It turns out that some old timey DJ in Cleveland coined the term "Rock and Roll", hence the state of Ohio has claimed it as their own. The words, not the music.

The Hall itself was pretty sweet, lots of memorabilia, broken guitars, Brittany Spear's outfits (she totally wouldn't fit into them today), Jimi Hendrix's scarves, a recreation of Sun Studios, the Beatles Yellow Submarine, records, ticket stubs, drumsticks, Jerry Garcia's guitars, etc.

Anyway, the museum was pretty interesting - given the immense history that is Rock and Roll the presentation is pretty comprehensive and well done. Definitely a must see if you are in Cleveland.

BEST Way to Overshadow the Newbie EVER

2006-09-13T08:20:00.000-05:00

As you may have heard, Meredith Vieira began the Today Show today with co-anchor stud (and the love of Kimmmm & Emmmm), Matt Lauer. While a good portion of the show revolved around Meredith as a way to welcome her, they took one major digression from her by unveiling this (from People Magazine):
Wow! I mean, wow! And to think they have him sitting at the Today Show desk with a suit on!

BEST Depends Customer EVER

2006-09-12T16:39:00.000-05:00

Friday night, I found myself out in Dupont Circle with a couple friends, and I was getting ready to relocate up the Red Line to Cleveland Park. I must have been feeling green peacey as I opted to take the metro instead of a cab.

Well, I'm just minding my own business, several sheets to the wind, as I began to take a rather intoxicated and bleary eyed scan over the other passengers of the half-full train. I glanced over to a mighty large fellow that had sprawled out over an entire metro seat. He was alone (not that anyone else could fit on the seat) and he had fallen asleep. But I didn't think much of it because that's what people tend to do in a half-full metro in the later hours.

Then, as I began to look away, that's when I spotted it. He was undeniably soaking wet all around his man parts! He completely wet himself. So I sat there with my jaw dropped open, realizing that everyone else around him had taken notice and shared the same look of disgust. I quickly jumped out of my seat and headed to the metro doors even before the train approached my stop. All the while, I wondered who last peed on my seat.

So to all of you that are enjoying your comfortable metro seats in the morning while I am slammed up against the door and seven complete strangers with my laptop squeezed between my feet, it looks like I win after all. I have no problem, in fact, I encourage you to keep your urine-saturated metro seats!

BEST Last Wedding of the Season EVER

2006-09-11T21:04:00.000-05:00

So this past weekend, Phillip and I headed to Cleveland for one of the more highly anticipated Marietta College weddings… that's right folks, after eight years of dating… Matt and Carina have finally tied the knot!

Anyway, the wedding was a lot of fun. The ceremony took place in a lovely little garden and the sun was shining, the birds were chirping, the bride was blushing, you get the idea. Then the fun started… the reception was a whirlwind of drinking, dancing, eating, women hitting on Phillip at the bar, more drinking, snickering at a waiter that had a flock of seagulls haircut, drinking, seeing some old folks from Marietta, drinking, having Phillip remark "Nothing says true love like a whorehouse" to one of the groomsmens parents, drinking, and of course… the cake was to die for. It was chocolate with white icing, and I'm not even the biggest fan of chocolate cake. If I develop diabetes in the next few days… that cake is to blame… and I'd do it all over again.

As we were driving back home, Phillip and I started to get a little misty-eyed… this was the last wedding of the season, and the last Marietta College wedding for the time being.

When I got home, as I was hanging up my dancing shoes and putting my dress back in the closet, when my phone rang. Marietta College Alum and avid Best Summer Evah reader Laney was calling with some exciting news… she's engaged!

And so it begins again…

BEST Rematch EVER

2006-09-10T08:51:00.000-05:00

In case you've been under a rock for the past week, you may not have been aware that Saturday night college football had the #2 (defending national champs) Texas Longhorns hosting thee #1 Ohio State Buckeyes. And what a game it was.

First of all, the hype of such a game guarantees star power: Lance Armstrong, LeBron James, Eddie George, Jack Nicklaus, Emmitt Smith were all there. And, of course, my own personal fave Matthew McConaughey (too bad he roots for Texas)! Sure, the game itself couldn't possibly live up to the original 2005 meeting in which Texas scraped by with a win, but as the clock expired, it was just the result I wanted to see: OSU 24, Texas 7.

This is a great start to what promises to be a winning season for the Buckeyes. As for continuing as #1, let's just hope they can Hang on Sloopy, Sloopy Hang on...O...H...I...O!

(By the way, if you turn up your volume, you'll hear the Best Damn Band in the Land rocking out to Hang on Sloopy...")

BEST Best Summer Ever EVER

2006-09-08T14:41:00.000-05:00

Now that we've successfully transitioned from the Best Summer Ever into the Best Fall Ever, we'd like to pay our respects (with a little bit of self-indulgence) to what has proven to be a spectacular few months. As we look back on the previous posts of the summer, we decided to highlight the good times and not-so-good times in one final goodbye to the summer.

So here it is, The Best of Our Best Summer Ever:

Race for the Cure: I like my daily dose of calcium as much as the next gal, but the idea of gulping down any sort of dairy product after running a 5K in June is not the least bit appetizing. Even as I sit here writing this, hours after the event has ended, my stomach still churns at the idea of yogurt after running.

Rolling Thunder: A lot of people went to Vietnam and fought in the Vietnam War. And then they came home. Some of them bought motorcycles. On Memorial Day, they bring those motorcycles to DC from all over the country and walk around our National Mall with plastic cups full of beer.

Krispy Kreme burger: Slide the patty on top of the half of the doughnut, making sure the cut side is on the outside. Wait! Stop right there! Top with the other half of doughnut, cut side facing up. Can't breathe, can't breathe!

Take Pride in America: So, as I am hauling branches up the Anacostia River bank, I can’t help but thing of the horrible, horrible irony of the fact that while I started this day to reconnect with America, I was ending it by assisting others chop down trees for a park used primarily by heroin addicts.

Sarasota: The routine is not completely set in stone however, Justin informed me that sometimes they mix it up and switch the order of “eat thai food” and “see a movie”. Also, there is a potential add on of “get icecream”.

Crabbing: It turns out that underneath their hard shells, beyond all the mustard (also known as “guts” or “doody”), and underneath the lungs (which look like crab meat but aren’t), crabs are pretty delicious little buggers, especially when covered in butter and Old Bay.

DC Pride Week: Coco.... her milkshake brings all the 18 year old boys to the bar

Bouquet Toss: Yes, the girl who cannot commit to watching Lost has been deemed the next bride.

American Gothic: Instead of the actual painting hanging up, there is a POSTER of the painting with a little paragraph stating that the actual painting had been in DC but it had been returned to Chicago a week earlier!

An Inconvenient Truth: Even if you are not a fan of documentaries or Mother Earth, it is worth watching the used to be the next President of the United States speak with the uncanny resemblance of Eeyore.

Loveless Café: The guy at the hotel desk had told me that Loveless was “overrated”, however we were not to be deterred as it was written up in “1000 Places to See Before You Die” and the brochure contained words of praise from both Al Roker and Willard Scott. I consider Al Roker and Willard Scott to be the most authoritative Today Show Personalities when it comes to all things eating.

Bonnaroo: So, a few weeks ago, Sheila, Ming, Will and I headed down to Manchester, TN for four days of peace, love, happiness, and portajohns.

Gomez: At one point during the show, one of the singers says, “Does anyone have britches* for (other band members name here)?” *Gomez is from England, so they say things like “britches” without being laughed at.

Wegmans: Thousands of questions began running through my mind. Will this live up to the hype? Will I get lost inside? Will Danny Wegman be serving at Danny's Deli? Am I in Buffalo?

South of the Border: The South of the Border Billboards, which featured stereotypical Mexican “Pedro” who could only be more stereotypical if there were flies buzzing around him (he already had a burro), and touted the wonderful things that South of the Border holds for the wayward I-95 passengers.

Galaxy Hut: With a capacity of only 48 and a sign made out of construction paper, Galaxy Hut is the one place in Arlington that you can be assured you will not be groped on a Saturday night.

Java: Experts recommend that to “beat the heat”, you not engage in any activity which involves moving. If you are thinking about moving, it’s recommended that you use plenty of sunscreen and consume at least 32 ounces of water an hour to stay hydrated.

DC Duck tour: We rode around on a giant boat on wheels that sucked down 900 gallons per mile on the first free-bus-ride-so-you-do-not-drive-and-add-to-global-warming day.

Fringe Festival: And, without any formal training, I managed to successfully rip the tickets in half. I know what you're thinking, "Wow, she's a miracle worker."

My Cousin's wedding: I ran with her to the dance floor and proceeded to take part in the boys versus girls dance off to the entire thirteen minutes of Paradise by the Dashboard Lights.

Jacksonville: One of the highlights of my trip (aside from breakfast at the Waffle House) was my visit to Southland Waste Systems, where they have not had an accident in 000 days

May 39th: Despite all of these futuristic things, the essence of the awkward morning after remains.

Spring Alibi: Rather than give away the entire alibi, let's just say it involved "becoming the master of one's domain."

New Mexico: The stores are brimming with southwest tourist crap - hand made pottery, hand made blankets, hand made figurines, hand made jewels, hand made turquoise, hand made pots, hand made pans, hand made baskets all hand made by Indians (and yes it's New Mexico - you are allowed to say "Indian")

Rhode Island: An infant's bedroom, the pediatric wing of a hospital, and the Valentine's section of Hallmark are all appropriate places to have an insane number of stuffed animals. A Bed & Breakfast, however, is not the place.

Pretty Woman: He opened his wallet to produce what I would assume to be a business card. But instead, he pulled out a checkbook.

Verizon: I'm pretty sure that the glint of crazy in my eye dissuaded him from attempting to up-sell me on any of the stupid extras that they offer… after forty minutes of wasted time in the middle of a hectic Monday afternoon, I was ready to rip the cell phone off the belt of any toolbag that so much as mentioned the words "Bluetooth".

Monday morning at O'hare:
My new arch-nemesis: (smirking and nodding) It's Monday morning at O'Hare.
Sooooo?
My new arch-nemesis: Yep, sorry. These things happen on Mondays.
What does? Mechanical problems? Cancelled flights? Oversold situations? What exactly is it about a Monday that makes an airline different than any other day of the week? So, you're telling me that every six days you prepare yourself for a trillion unhappy customers because it's another Monday morning?

Code orange flight: Thursday is also the day that ordinary freedom loving Americans were having their bags emptied out and criminalized for possessing such items as chapstick, contact lens solution, hair products and other assorted liquids and gels.

Segways: It really does live up to its multitude of uses as the "ranger" appears to off-road through the woods despite the fact that an obvious walking path is right next to him. I wonder if a bear can reach 12.5 mph.

College throwback weekend: When drunken idiots dropped their sophisticated drinks at Cubby Bear, the glass shattered, leaving my sandaled feet soaked in beer and shattered glass. In college, the classy plastic cups left my feet sticky, but never gouged and bleeding.

It all came together: Anyway, we didn't end up capturing the Segway using my phone, by the time I had located my phone and opened up the camera, he had left us in his 12.5 mph dust.

Conversations:
Emily: "Guess my name."
Dude: "Kathryn"
Emily: "No"
Dude: "Kimberly"
Emily: "No, but CLOSE!!"

Award winning post: Does this put Em and myself one step closer to quitting our jobs for the man and becoming professional bloggers?? If only there were "Blog for Food", "Blog for Rent" and "Blog for Clothes" contests....

I'm with the Blogger: As Emmmm is introduced to other staff in the office I realize something. My roommate has turned from Emmmm to Emmmm, The Blogger.

I'm from Wisconsin: When he spotted the Miller Genuine Draft vendor, he took in a deep breath of the MGD-saturated ballgame atmosphere and remarked, "Ahhhhh, the smell of my childhood."

BEST Wedding Gift EVER

2006-09-07T20:55:00.000-05:00

So this coming weekend, Phillip and I are heading to Cleveland. There are two reasons for this trip.

The first is to see the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, which is the only attraction in the great state of Ohio that is listed in the book "1000 Places to See Before You Die". That's right, you can skip the entire state of Ohio, except for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Oddly enough, in the five years that I lived there, I never made it to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

The second reason is that we are going to the final wedding of the summer wedding season. Two Marietta College alumni are getting hitched after a very long courtship. It should be a good time... I'm looking forward to some drinking, dancing, and seeing some people I haven't seen in a while.

Anyway, last weekend, in a stroke of absolute genius the crew that was in New York came up with the perfect wedding gift….a chocolate fountain!

Granted, this is one of those completely impractical sort of cheesy wedding gifts that is totally not on the registry, but really, when you come right down to it, nothing says "we're starting our new life together" like a continuously streaming source of chocolate.

BEST Mama Had a Baby & Its Head Popped Off EVER

2006-09-06T12:33:00.000-05:00

Now, I find the geese that line the Reflecting Pool just as disgusting as the next person, but not once have I found the need to decapitate the innocent feathered friend. The crazies in Lekeitio, Spain think otherwise.

This is what I read on the metro this morning from one of my favorite literary works, the Express:

Nothing says "summer fun" in Lekeitio, Spain, like "ripping the head off a dead goose." This can clearly be seen by the joy of (these) revelers, who held up a headless goose Tuesday during a fiesta. The deceased geese are strung up on a line, and the partiers rip off their heads. And you were just thinking that your family needed a new Thanksgiving activity.

When I was growing up, we just tore dandelions out of the ground and pulled the flowers off of the stems. Lekeitio brings a whole new meaning to "Mama had a baby and its head popped off."