needle in the hay

my job is moving to baltimore in february. yep, it looks as though. crabcakes and homocide, here we come.

to add insult to injury, i'm going to be out of town next weekend and will miss - for the second time - blitzen trapper at the rnr hotel. i'll be in vegas, at a wedding. i'll in fact be a bridesmaid and have been informed this requires making a toast. i'm thinking of singing, or maybe doing a mime, or using semaphore. i hate myself.

the only things holding me back from the ledge are my ticket to animal collective tomorrow night and this. and booze, duh.

overheard in dc

at velvet lounge, Saturday night.

patron: (pointing) what's that beer there with the jesus on it?

bartender: its a candle.















me: snap!

i love how no matter what day it is or how packed velvet lounge is, there are always two open seats at the bar. and they have $2 Schlitz everyday. what else is there really?

bye bye love

happy (albeit dry and a bit bland) mexican pastries. fuck me, i'd rather die than go back to DC.

ridin dirty

just returned to san francisco from camping in northern cali, a little frozen and dirtier than a pile of dirt that sat out in the dirt all day. but it was worth it. hiked through the Caribou Wilderness (swear to god) and swam in a pool heated by natural hotsprings at Drakesbad Guest Ranch in Lassen National Park, where i worked summers in college. we went back to relive the magic (read=guzzle whisky) and it looked like this.

sludge-covered lake at sunset


canoe we used to get drunk and sleep in on sludge-covered lake


deer in beautiful meadow


and i accidentally deleted the pics from the caribou wilderness (ha!) which involved gay asian cowboys and pitbulls in tshirts. you'll just have to trust me.

on a mission for them greens

vacay starts tomorrow. i go to san francisco for a few days, then to chico to pick up friends, then northern cali around lassen national park to camp and fuck shit up with bears and hotsprings and nature. i'm also renting a car, which is my favorite thing of all time. the last two times i got a neon yellow and then a neon orange chevy cobalt. this time i'm hoping for the neon green to round out the 2 fast 2 furious trinity. and if all goes well, i expect to be drunk from about 5 minutes from now until next thursday, so will likely not post much in between. fuckinay.

crabs, pt 2

here's the unmistakable evidence (from Cantler's):

4 dozen filthy crabs covered in Old Bay, ordered.








more crabs.









nooo, ur dooin it wrong!













4 dozen filthy crabs covered in Old Bay, cracked, gutted, eaten.


more crab filth.











then i got gelato.









from left to right: mine, not mine. in you, bammas.

crabs crabs crabs

this week sucked. i got back from brooklyn and my boss called everyone into the conference room and told us the organization is moving to baltimore. kaboom. the rest of the week i spent picking the pieces of my brain up from where they landed after the explosion and thinking about updating my resume. honestly, besides low rent, what possible benefit could baltimore offer? i think we all know who the loser in the "does-baltimore-suck-more-than-DC" game is. i'm not even taking votes. the answer is yes. bmore does suck more.

to celebrate the end of summer (and my career), i'm going to annapolis today with friends to (not) eat crabs. since i don't eat fish, i will be sitting with my beer and corn on the cob and scowling intensely, plotting my next diabolical move. talk about feeling crabby (yuck yuck).

i also hope we have time to make a stop by this Italian Cafe for gelato that comes highly recommended. ima need this week to be over... now.

like butta

Yesterday, a friend and i had mid-afternoon lunch at Tom's Restaurant in Prospect Heights. We chose a table "outside" in the annex that's really an air-conditioned patio with no outlet to the real outside whatsoever. Before we had even sat down, they gave us those little moist towlettes that come in the waxy paper pouches, and a man wielding tongs and a basket of cookies thrust a chocolate chip and a pecan sandy each into our flustered hands. Not that i'm complaining, shove a cookie in my mouth before i've had my coffee and you're really doing me a favor. Anyway, i had banana nut pancakes that came with syrup and three different kinds of flavored butter. I think they were peach, strawberry - with big chunks of fruit mixed in - and a cinnamony one that tasted like cake batter. I was this close to greasing the inside of my purse to take them home. While i regret not trying the egg cream, everything was delish and the decor was cute, replete with plastic flowers and deck furniture kitch. The best part of dining experience was the warning upon leaving from the proprietor (Tom?), with regard to the impending West Indian Carnival taking place in the hood this weekend - to "be careful." Safety first i guess.

this is not my beautiful wife

I’m writing from the DC2NY bus on my way up to Brooklyn for Labor Day. The bus has Internet, its pretty cool. Apparently we’re also supposed to get a complimentary cookie and beverage, but these have yet to materialize. The bus does, however, have a DVD player and a copy of “Firehouse Dog” that no one – in the world – should ever have to watch.

Despite these setbacks, I’m stoked to get out of Dodge for a couple days. This week has seen passage of three events that I feel warrant some diversion:

Number 1, Thursday was my two-year anniversary of moving to DC. Without making any cheeseball, “long strange trip” musings, I’ll just say that while I’m glad I moved away from Portland when I did, the jury’s still out on DC. I’m white. I’m liberal, and I work for a non-profit. I make (way) less than $50,000 per year. What exactly am I doing here?

Number 2, I registered to take a GRE prep class. This theoretically means I plan to go back to school. I feel old and dumb and poor.

Number 3, I got a blackberry. My work didn’t get me a blackberry. I got it of my own free accord. More so, I was really excited to get it. I remember when (cue “long strange trip” theme) people started showing up on my college campus with cell phones and everyone was like “eeeeeew, corporate America, omygod, gross!” (I also remember referencing the Matrix in one of my AP American History essays as one of those watershed moments after which nothing would be the same – I got a 2). The times, they change.

All this is to say, am I a douchebag? Things to ponder. Happy Labor Day.