Go Nationals
So, those of you in the Washington area are aware that our new little baseball team is kicking some ass in the standings and that is great. I have been fortunate enough to attend a couple of games and they have been awesome. What was more than awesome, though was the metro ride home last evening from the game.

So, we were lucky enough to beat the largest throngs of people and made it into the station and pretty much got right on a train. 'Wow, we thought, that was easy.' Little did we know that on our train was one of the most oddly animated and unanimated people I have ever come in contact with.

What do I mean by this? Well, let's start with when we got on the metro, he was sprawled out on the priority seating as if it was his own couch. My friend and I continued to talk about the game and other things until a couple of stops had passed and this guy had moved seats and was now putting his feet up all over the place.

Then his attention turned to us. Ruh roh.

H: Is this your first trip to Washington?
M: No, we're from the area.
H: Where?
My Friend: Dupont Circle (me thinking, you couldn't have picked something more believable?)
M: Yes, our parents are diplomats. (fine, not really)
H: So I guess that means I should stop talking to you.
Us: Silence...(and not really understanding why he thought that, I would say it was more of our demeanor that would have given him the hint)

About two minutes pass and he moves to the seat directly across from us.

H: So, do you actually even CARE about anything?
Us: What?
H: Hi, I'm 'Funky' but my friends call me 'Funk' and you are?
M: Emily (yes, that is totally not my name. Shut. Up.)
H: I will tell you something about myself. I used to work for the Grateful Dead and Bob Dylan.
Us Thinking: Really, we never would have guessed with the permanently stoned eyes you have and the fabulously long curly locks you are sporting.
M: What do you do now?
H: I choose to be unemployed to hang out with my old mother and knocked-up sister. You know, family is important.
Us: Hmmmm...
H: ruhumpfhhhhhhhh

See, it was at this point that he actually fell off his bench and rolled onto the floor. And then he didn't get up right away. Not sure if it was because he couldn't process what happened or perhaps he just liked the view from down there. Who knows. I know that I found it quite entertaining.

H: Homo sapien
M: Yes, aren't we all (a little confused by this segue)
H: Not you all, you're homosexuals.
Us: Huh? Nope, don't think so.
M: I don't think you understand the meaning of Homo sapien.

Now I think this was this poor man's way of determining whether or not my friend and I were together, which we are not. Once this was decided, he moved in for the kill. After poking me in my arm 5 times, I told him that I would not go out on a date with him.

H: Why?
M: I have a boyfriend named Thor.
H: What does he do?
M: Drives a tow truck. (now mind you I am describing my last ex, so it isn't EXACTLY a lie)
H: Huh...what kind of truck is it?
M: A TOW truck. I don't know what brand. One that can hold cars and trucks, I suppose.

Finally, our stop arrived and we were able to get off the train before our new friend Funk tried to sit in our laps and lick our faces.

So, if any of you ladies are looking for a fabulous man named Funk, I think I know where to find him. Blue Line train to Franconia-Springfield is all you need.

We All Know THIS GUY...
Thanks to my friend Matt, I ran across this link.

Highly entertaining!

I am really getting too old for this...
Just because it was a holiday weekend, doesn't mean there is a reason reason to be out until 3am on a 'school' night. Seriously, what was I thinking? Did I stay out that late on Sunday, when I could sleep in as late as I wanted? Of course not. I waited until Monday night. In retrospect, it was both a blessing and a curse.

This whole notion began when I was discussing that I wanted to go out and meet boys with my roommate (Miss C). With her newly minted single status, she agreed that we needed to go out somewhere we could meet some fine gentleman callers. Well, the resulting men weren't necessarily gentleman, but they were pretty fine.

We headed out to a small area of town that we don't normally frequent to a place known for its karaoke--now mind you I said we would go to new places, not necessarily avoid our favorite passtime (after drinking of course.)

We at first drew some attention due to our vehement game of rock, paper, scissors and soon enough we had some hot boys rallying around us and marveling at Miss C's ability to wholeheartedly kick my ass 3 out of 4 times (75% for those playing at home.) Of course, being manly men, they wanted to get in on the action, only to meet the same fate as myself.

At the end of the evening, after the drinks and karaoke ended, slow dancing commenced and the bright 'get the hell out' lights were eventually turned on, it was at this point that my new boyfriend thought it would be appropriate to jam his tongue down my throat. In the middle of the dance floor with florescent lights for all to see. Oddly enough, he didn't seem to understand why I didn't want to make out at precisely that moment. Ummm...really? Yuck...and also--ixnay on the izardlay onguetay.

Ahem, so, we all walk out to the street to depart and he somehow finagles a ride back to his hotel. We take him down the street about 7 blocks, passing his forlorn friends who were walking along and getting accosted by a homeless man. We pull into the turnabout driveway when awkward, he hasn't asked for my number or anything routine ensues. It was so nice when my roommate blatantly blurted out 'you are going to call her, right? You did get her number? You didn't? Do you have a pen?' This poor man wanted nothing to do with a pen or my phone number, but to his credit at least tried to make up a story as to why he had been thrown off kilter at this point. After he again tried to jam his tongue down my throat--with my roommate in the car he exited our vehicle, sans any phone number.

Now, last night this might have bothered me, but this morning, not so much. I guess I was more worried about making it to work on time after acting like such a dumbass and staying out so late last night. So be careful what you wish for when trolling for men, they may be hot, but that is about it. However, as Miss C said, 'at least he was smart enough to get a ride to his hotel.' Well said Miss C, well said.

Man...blogging is HARD.
Well, Work has been interrupting my plans to blog yet again. Doesn't Work know that I have to entertain the four people that read this site on a regular basis? Seriously Work, you have to stop being so stressful and busy. I mean, it is Summer. Isn't it time for a break? Nice long lunches? Early patio happy hours? What's that you say? No? Great.

I guess that is just the icing on the cake for this particular week which began with the discovery of the formerly mentioned living will. Other fun things that happened this week...my best friend from college's grandfather passed away and I found out someone close to me has a very serious health issue. Although there was good news as well. One of my other good friends from college welcomed her first son into the world, so that is awesome.

Perhaps I should go out drinking to celebrate. I am sure she would approve considering she taught me everything I know about boozing it up. Long weekend here I come!

A Letter From Mom!!!
Peering into my mailbox last night I notice a letter from my mother. At first, I assume it is something good, it's from my mom and it's a real letter and it's heavy! I tear into it in the elevator, I just can't wait to see what it is. I carefully unfold the papers, only to realize that my mother has sent me her LIVING WILL. No forewarning, nothing. Just these two pieces of paper designating my sister as her surrogate with me as the alternate.

Well, this isn't what I was expecting, although there is a little note explaining that even though my sister has been designated, my mom expects all decisions to be made jointly and that I should file this with my important papers (which include a plastic sheet which houses my birth certificate and passport stuffed in my dresser.)

I immediately call my sister to complain about being ambushed by something of this nature.

Me: Know what you don't want to get in the mail?
Sister: What are you talking about?
Me: Ummm...our mother's living will!
Sister: Oh, yeah, I knew about that.
Me: Why didn't anyone mention it to me?
Sister: She didn't? Oh well.
Me: By the way, since you are older, you have to make all the decisions.
Sister: Wait, what? That isn't fair...
Me: Who said life was fair? You were born first and went to Europe.
Sister: Well, you got to go skiing three times.
Me: Fine...whatever. Why are we talking about this again?
Sister: Because our mom is nuts and didn't tell you about her living will.
Me: Damn Terri Schiavo.

Couldn't come up with anything better...
All right, I went out last night and drank too much and slept too little. Do I really think the type of day I have had so far is because of that? Not hardly. Fine...maybe a little bit. Shut. It.

See, we had a bit of a debaucherous night that included numerous $2.35 beers and karaoke as well as a midnight viewing of Nightmare on Elm Street 2, which I have to say wasn't that good.

It is currently 4:32pm and there have been a variety of activities that occurred today.

So, let's begin...I wake up this morning to the sound of the telephone in my kitchen (the telephone, not me, I was in my bed) it was my roommate's ex husband calling to see where she was. So, I check in her room. Sure enough, sleeping soundly. 'Shall I tell him you have already left?' 'Please..'

Got to work at 9:20 after receiving a ride from the lovely Lucy to the metro station. Got a phone message from my dad sounding quite ominous and found out that my step-mom is having some health difficulties. Broke my shoe. Left all my money, ID and check card at home. All of my credit cards state to 'check id.' Borrowed money from a co-worker. Did I mention my shoe broke? Attended meeting with SVP whilst slightly hungover. Noticed a massive scar on his cheek and couldn't look away. And, to top it all off was the let down that was Lo Mein Bar in our cafeteria. How can you mess up stir-frying some vegetables? Well, if you mix some horrible sauce that taints the rest of the food, I guess it is possible. I am hoping the rest of the evening goes much more smoothly than earlier today, but I doubt it.

Day Of Service
My office does this really cool thing once a year called Day of Service, where they close the entire national office, in addition to all of our state offices and everyone signs up to volunteer at different locations. The volunteer work ranges from making food to building playgrounds to painting to knitting. So, as you can see, there are a wide range of activities to choose from.

Well, my boss and another colleague of mine found this one option that claimed that you would be working with kids and doing things like face painting and helping out with field day games. We thought this would be awesome. I mean, who doesn't love working with kids and we would get to be outside. Turns out, there were no kids involved, but in fact it was an adult day program field day. It was such a fun day and the participants were so awesome. They totally got into the spirit of the day and were so excited when they completed one of the field day tasks.

In any case, even though the service part was the most important, the most interesting point of the day is when my boss and I decided to race each other in the bean bag relay that had been set up. Now, mind you, this thing was set up with each person having two milk crates with six beanbags about 40 feet from each other (the milk crates not the beanbags) so this was certainly not a feat of massive athletic ability or endurance.

As we were getting ready to begin, a few thoughts were running through my head. The first...am I really about to run a race against my boss? The second...should I let her win? Third...I am about to run a relay race against my boss.

And we were off. Pretty much neck and neck until our colleague who was officiating noted that my boss was one bean bag ahead of me. Impossible, I thought. We have been side by side. I immediately began to cry foul...or at least 'she cheated!' over and over again. Although my cries were muffled by the fact that I couldn't breathe due to being massively out of breath after running only 80 feet.

It was in that moment that I realized two things. I will NOT let my boss win and I might lose my job. Ok, the second one wouldn't have really happened, but I definitely was not going to go down without a fight. So, I mustered up all of my speed and endurance to make up the difference. Slowly but surely with bean bags four and five I creeped back into contention. The last 40 feet were upon me and I ran with all my might...only to end up tying. (which of course really meant that I won by one beanbag, but whatever.)

So, even though the race was contentious, I have to say it is a pretty cool organization and boss to allow such a day in the middle of the week to occur. I still cry foul to my boss, but she will never admit what she did--she just looks at me with a twinkle in her eye and notes that she told her teenage daughters that 'we tied.'

Public Transportation
This morning was a slow one for me as I got up a little later than usual and was not feeling 100%. This certainly didn't prepare me for what I encountered on the bus ride to the metro station.

I am sitting towards the back, minding my own business, when this guy gets on the bus wearing clothing with the names of different American cities plastered everywhere and a hat that promoted the Olympics. Now this was a real patriot, I thought. Seriously, it looked like one of the souvenir kiosks from the airport threw up on him.

In any case, I was sitting there peacefully as he chose the seat in front of mine. About two minutes go by and that is when I hear it. The unmistakable snipping sound of nail clippers. No, it couldn't be. Who would do that in public, much less on a bus? An enclosed space with strangers? No way. A few more snips go by. Oh my god...he is clipping his nails.

YUCK. This was certainly not what my stomach needed this morning. There was no escaping the sound. Snip. Snip. Snip. With each snip, I got more and more sick. I looked around and it seemed as though not one other person on the bus noticed this man going to town on his fingernails. How could they not hear it? I looked at the woman across from me and longed to have her headphones. At least she had a reason for not noticing this man. I considered getting off the bus, but I was already late, so I moved a couple of seats away. I COULD STILL HEAR IT.

SNIP.

SNIP.

SNIP.

My god...how long could this go on? How much fingernail is he going to have left. It had been 5 minutes. OF SNIPPING. Did I mention we were on a bus? IN PUBLIC? Where are all the clippings going to go? I am positive he wasn't collecting them. What about the poor person who sits in that seat later in the day. Only to be accosted by Mr. Patriot's nail clippings. I suppose I should be happy he was grooming himself, but is it really necessary to do so on the bus? This was worse than the time that some woman took her shoes off, ON THE BUS, and put them up on the seat in front of her.

Again, what is wrong with people? The bus is full of germs and gross things...like nail clippings. Oh...I think I just threw up a little bit in my mouth. I have to start making more money so I don't have to take the bus anymore. GROSS.

I'm Going Blind
At least that is what I thought when I had my annual (and by annual I mean my triannual) visit to the eye doctor today.

Everything started out just fine. I went in, sat down in the little chair, ready to have that blast of air shot into each of my eyes. See, in the past, this had been the most stressful part of the eye doctor for me. I just don't like it. Not that it is painful, but the anticipation of when that blast of air is going to shoot in my eye pretty much drives me crazy. Well, little did I know the air blast would be the least of my worries.

The next test was to determine if there were any problems with my peripheral vision. You look through one eye and focus on this black dot and click a button when you see lines moving in your peripheral vision. Not too hard, right? Riiiight. When we were doing my right eye I didn't have many problems but I constantly worried that I was missing some and began to sweat a bit due to the pressure. Then it really got tough. On to the left eye. Same thing happened with the pressure, but what I wasn't counting on was this darkness that kept seeping into my vision field and by darkness, I mean completely black as if my eyes were closed.

Then I really started to freak out. What was going on? Was I seeing all of the little blips I was supposed to? Why was my vision deteriorating just from sitting in that chair? Why couldn't I focus on that damn dot? "This is what happens when you don't go to the eye doctor when you are supposed to and wear your two week disposable contacts for the better part of 4 months," I hear every eye doctor I have ever had echo in my brain.

The test ended and I waited for the doctor. He did ask me some questions...was I having problems with my vision, etc...I told him that no, it was not until I was being tested that I began to go have trouble. As I am sure any of you with a brain or a similar experience (or both) know, he explained that I was seeing black because my dominant eye was trying to take over and since it saw black, it tried to tell my left eye that was what it should see as well. So...whew...I am not going blind. Yet. He did chide me a little about not having been back in so long, but at least he put my fears of sudden blindness to rest. And I thought going to the gyno was stressful.

Work
For the past couple of months at work, things have been massively hectic. There is a big reorganization and all sorts of changes are taking place.

The issue? I seem to be stressing out way too much concerning this. I just have so much to do that my brain almost shuts down b/c it doesn't know where to begin. Today for example, I was able to cross 4 things off of my task list, only to add 5. We keep hiring new people, but they are all higher ups and it just seems like things just keep rolling downhill. I know that my job is a very good one and I am thankful to have it, but seriously I am starting to freak out. Today I was almost brought to tears from the frustration. TWICE.

I am sure some of you are saying...well, if you are so busy, then why are you taking the time to post. My answer to you? Shut. It. In all seriousness, I needed a little break from my list and thought that perhaps by chronicling some of my frustrations they would cease to bother me. I suppose only time will tell if this is the case.

In any event, I was fortunate enough to hear from a dear friend today that did brighten up my mood some. I am sure that this, like many things will pass, but damn if it doesn't seem like the most frustrating thing right now. Is it a bad thing when your boss comes in and tells you that you look exhausted? I thought so. Perhaps I should have winked at her...