Misadventures of the Village Idiot #76

Birthday weekend celebration!!!!  What an awesome weekend.

Friday
Okay, Friday wasn’t so awesome but it wasn’t that bad either.  I drilled Friday and Saturday instead of Saturday and Sunday because I had requested a long time ago to take the weekend off.  I had originally planned to be gone the entire weekend but I did not feel like making up both days.

Friday I went into the armoury and helped out with drill preparations.  It actually wasn’t the worst thing ever.  There were a few other soldiers there making up drill and it’s not like the work is mind-numbing or physically taxing.  I even got to go a little bit early.  That’s always a plus.

I planned to go to the movies that night but somehow things just did not go that way.  I ended up sleeping my life away.

Saturday
This was an actual drill day and kind of a day from hell, but a good kind of hell, if there is such a thing.  I don’t know.  The day did not start off well because I received some interesting news.  At the time I received the news I was highly upset but after I had time to sit down let things marinate I decided that it is not bad news at all.  I am just going to take advantage of the opportunity and move on with my life.  I choose not to detail it here because there are other people involved.

Because A was out of the office, I worked in her place.  What a rough job.  I am so glad I did not allow the recruiter to talk me into being a supply person.  He was trying to get me to be supply, an MP or a cook.  Hell no to all three.  Supply is a serious job.  There is so much to know, and everyone did not understand that I was just down there helping out.  I am not a supply expert.  I don’t know how to order things.  I don’t know how things go.  I don’t know any of that.  Everyone just kept coming down harassing me. Now I see why A tells everyone to GTFO.  It’s a headache.  But when I said it was kind of like a hell that is a good kind of hell, I mean because I was busy and it helped the day to go by very quickly.  One minute it was 815 and the next minute it was 345 and time to lock everything up.

There were several people promoted this weekend.  There were the obvious ones, of course.  Then there was one and I was like… hmm…. what was that about?  But what do I know?  Obviously, nothing.  It wasn’t my turn.  I am beginning to feel like it will never be my turn.  The person in front of me was promoted but then they stopped.  I just seem to have the worst luck.  I am always in the wrong place at the wrong time.  I am not one of those people that ends up doing something lucky because they happen to be in the right spot.  That’s just not me.  And now this.  I’m trying not to get frustrated.  I guess my ship will come in some day.

After drill I hung out with Pops for a little while and then I hit the hay early because I had a race in the morning.

Sunday
Birthday!!!  Yippeee!!!  In honour of my 32nd birthday I decided to run the Maryland Half Marathon for the University of Maryland Cancer Center.  It’s my first half and I don’t know what I was thinking.  They say if you can run this many miles than you can run a half and that’s what I was going off.  I woke up Sunday morning stretched and had a cookie, then I drove out to Maple Lawn some new community that I had never heard of.

The weather was perfect for a run.  Cloudy, breezy and cool.  There was a bit of mugginess but it wasn’t overwhelming.  I started to get nervous.  That is a lot of miles to be running:  13.1.  Why do they have to add that .1 like that?  So here’s my race synopsis.

Mile 1:
Kinda pumped because they got the music on blast.  There are 2000 runners out here.  Everyone is full of energy and excitement.  I got this!  But I have to pee.  That’s too bad because it’s gonna be at least two more hours before there’s another toilet.  Nice.

Mile 2:
Conquered the first hill and it was kind of a doozy.  Breathing is all wrong, feel like I’m flopping me feet too hard.  I don’t know if I can do this.  This is only mile 2 and I feel like this?  Maybe I should just quit.

Mile 3:
More hills.  Then I remember what the guy said:  “This is not a flat course because the battle for cancer is not a flat course.”  I am not trying to disrespect cancer victims and survivors, but screw you, guy.  Screw you.

Mile 4:
You run 4 miles all the time.  Why are you acting like you are doing something brand new?  There is a woman in a pink shirt that keeps walking/running past me.  I want to get away from her.

Mile 5:
Finally started to get comfortable.  Since I felt like I did not hydrate well enough in the day preceding, I stopped at every water station.  Pink Shirt Lady has racewalked/ran her way right on past me.

Mile 6:
I need new bras.

Mile 7:
Okay, 8 miles is the furthest I’ve ever run this year, so when I get to 8 I’ll stop running and walk the rest of the way. I also drank gatorade because I was worried about electrolytes.  I actually don’t know when I should really be concerned but I was concerned anyway so I accepted the gatorade.  It was orange flavoured.  Gross.  So now I have nasty orange flavour taste in my mouth for another mile.

Mile 8:
Broads from Fleet Feet in Baltimore are starting to get on my nerves.  First of all, they are talking.  Who can talk?  Obviously they can because they are doing that walk/run thing.  One woman has a watch that is similar to mine and every time it beeped I kept looking at my watch.

Mile 9:
The Fleet Feet bitches are still next to me and they are accompanied by a guy who is obviously in great shape.  He has sprinted up to the finish line and back again, and then all the way back down to mile 7 where another friend of theirs is.  He is also doing jumping jacks at the water stations.  Get the fuck away from me!

Mile 10:
The bottom of my feet hurt like I’ve been shopping for hours, except when I get to the finish line there aren’t gads of new clothes waiting for me.

Mile 11:
These goddamn hills.  My God!  I am finally able to get rid of the Fleet Street women.  They’re way behind me now.  I want to stop running but I don’t know how.

Mile 12:
We’re in this brand new neighbourhood in Maple Lawn.  Nice houses.  That’s fucking great.  Is it over yet?  How come the last mile is the longest?  I think I have a blister.  I’m tired of my iPod.  I’m tired of everything.  I’m hungry.

Mile 13:
I’m glad they thoughtfully put a 13th mile sign, like I can’t see the finish line is around the corner.  They just want to let you know they didn’t forget about that .1.  Seriously, that was the longest tenth of a mile ever.  Really?  I started to burn it out. I ran like an axe murderer was chasing me.  I ran like I was late for dinner.  I ran like Jesus was about to start the Rapture.  I ran like… Forrest fuckin’ Gump, okay.  Like a fool.  I crossed the finish line like I was the champion, like I was the number one winner.

When I was finally able to stop running my feet were not physically moving but my body was still running.  It was an odd sensation.  I had muscles sore and throbbing in places I didn’t even know there were muscles.  It was insane.  Everything hurt.  Even my teeth.  My fingers.  The ends of my toenails.  Very bizarre.

Then a man comes up to me and says, “Did you get a medal?”

Why would I get a medal?  The clock said 2:34:25.  Yes, I had been running for two and a half hours.  They don’t usually give medals to people who place 743rd.  Then he said, “Everybody who finishes gets a medal.”

Oh!  D’uh!  He put the medal on me and I truly felt like a winner.  My body felt like it had gone 12 rounds with Pacquiao but that’s another story.

I am so stiff and sore that I can hardly make it back to the car.  I was parked about 3 minutes from the finish line.  It took me about 15 minutes to get there.  I was afraid to sit down in the car because I felt that I would stiffen up and be stuck in the sitting position for the rest of my life.

This was not the case however.  I got home, showered and immediately got on the foam roller.  This helped recovery but I’m still pretty beat up.

Pops and I went to Founding Farmers for brunch and then I took him back to the Maple Lawn neighbourhood because I thought he might like the houses.  By 5PM I was completely beat but all my friends and family were calling me to wish me happy birthday.  I thought it was awesome.  Even people from whom I did not expect a call managed to get in touch with me.  I just think it’s funny…. but you know what, I don’t feel like turning this into something negative.

Right as I was dozing, someone called me with a job offer.  They want to pay me ……………………………………….. Yeah.

It’s a lot of fucking money but I just don’t know.  You know me and money.  I’m a saver, but I’m not greedy and I don’t need a headache just for an extra dollar.  The job sounds intense and I have been saying to myself that I need to get out of this line of work.  I cannot allow myself to be tantalised away from what I truly want to do.  And that is be a vagabond.  It’s not for everyone but it works for me.

At any rate, I told them I’d think about it.  I’m going to Hawaii and I don’t plan on bringing any stress with me.  I’ll call them when I return.  If the job is still there, we’ll see.  If not, then oh well.  You know how I feel about things like that.

So today is Monday.  I woke up still feeling all wonked out but not as a bad as yesterday.  I’m going to take the next few days off running but soon I will get back on it.  The Big One is October and I plan on having a better physical race experience.  I also want to do another half before then.  I have discovered that I think my favourite distance will be the 10 miler.

Thank you everyone for the wonderful birthday wishes.  My birthday month spectacular has been awesome so far.  Next weekend I will be in Hawaii and the weekend after that I will go to King’s Dominion to put a cap on all this awesomeness.

Misadventures of the Village Idiot #75

Birthday weekend celebration #2!

Friday
I am continuing on in my month long celebration of my birthday.  It’s overkill, but you know I love it.  Friday, I had a birthday dinner at Oceanaire.  I almost ended up canceling the whole thing because I didn’t think anybody was going to come, but the four people I really wanted to be there were there, and everybody else, well, that would have just been icing.

I had been dying to eat at Oceanaire for quite some time.  Debonair promised to take me but since I kicked him to the curb there was no chance of that.  I could have gone there alone but that’s not really the sort of place for that.  At any rate, I had a lot of fun.  We ordered everything off the menu plus tons of drinks.  We pretty much shut the place down.  The guy came around and was like, “I hope you don’t have a car in valet because they’re ready to go.”  Uhm, you don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here.

It was very good to see CC again, and Miss T.  I saw CC during restaurant week earlier this year, but Miss T, I hadn’t seen her since like New Orleans.  Actually, no, that’s not the true.  There was another time, only I cannot remember.

Saturday
I had so many plans for Saturday but they just went wherever they went.  I was supposed to do some overtime at work.  Yeah, I only did an hour.  I said I was going to run.  No, I didn’t.  Instead me and SF went to Tyson’s and spent all of our disposable income.  I wanted to find a nice outfit for the party.  I bought something but then I ended up not liking it.  I’m going to return it.  I got some shoes for my sister and some other junk.  I really don’t need to be shopping.  It is amazing how much money I have spent in the past few weeks.  My bank account is so sad because of it, but I am enjoying myself.  I’ll tighten up later on, perhaps in July because June is going to be another month where I’m spending a shit load of money.

After shopping I got some pad Thai from Asian One and then went home to relax a little.  We were supposed to go to two parties, but we skipped the first one and headed to the second one later on that night.  We went up to Baltimore for a friend’s party and to watch the fight.  I am passably interested in boxing.  Don’t count on me to know stats or anything like that, but I have seen most of the major fights in the past year or so.  Of course, I was rooting for Pacquiao and he won.

The fight lasted longer than I hoped it would.  The thing is, it was a blessing in disguise.  Even though the fight lasted long and nobody wanted to dance while the fight was on, it helped to bring out the guys.  Last time, my friend’s party had too many women.  Yes, we’re all beautiful but when I go to parties I want to dance with boys, not with girls.  Because of the fight there were a lot more guys.  And another thing I noticed is that there were a lot less TSA people than usual.  I remarked that this was a good thing.  These are no longer TSA-sponsored events.  There were some but not a whole checkpoint as in previous years.

I was very glad to see some old friends.  I’m so happy to see that they are looking well and enjoying life.  I did not see any of the Mean Girls and that’s a good thing.  That’s all dead in the water anyway.  Can we say, “five years ago?”  Yeah.  Five years ago.

I received a compliment later on the evening that really made my day.  Sometimes you have no idea how the smallest thing can make or break you.  I’m going to keep it to myself though.  It’s not really something to be read into, just something to be pleased by and move on.

After the party we went to Double T, or as we like to call it The Butter Factory.  Seven pancakes, four eggs and slices of bacon later it was after 4AM.  Time for these ladies to be in bed.  The thing I hate about staying up late is that I wake up early no matter what.  I was up at 730.  I made myself go into work to get in that overtime.  Then I claimed I was going to run and that didn’t happen.  Instead I came home and slept my life away until Maq called me.

We went out to dinner for mother’s day.  I was so tired I was about to fall asleep in my glass of wine.  I haven’t partied like a rock star in quite some time.

It was a pretty good weekend.

Next weekend is birthday celebration #3.  I have drill.  Ugh.  But then on Sunday I am taking off to run the Maryland Half and then I’m going to brunch with my ladies’ circle.  After that, it’s Hawaii.

Misadventures of the Village Idiot #74

New York, New York!

As part of my month long birthday celebration SF and I decided to hit up the city for a couple of shows and some shopping.  We drove up early Saturday morning and stayed in a hotel in Queens, Best Western Plaza Long Island City. I liked the hotel because it was clean and convenient.  I’ve been doing quite well with Priceline, thankfully landing decent hotels that don’t resemble the Bates Motel.

We got there too early to check in, but we parked the car in their lot and headed two blocks to the F Train. Our first stop was China Town.  I had promised my mother to get her these perfumes she wanted.  Ever since Ronnie’s space was boarded over due to construction I’ve been having trouble finding a reliable guy that I can go to every time.  I did get what I wanted but all this haggling and trying to make sure I don’t get scammed.  Ugh.

It was kinda crowded, but that’s because the weather was absolutely freakin’ perfect.  We didn’t stay too long in China Town.  I got my perfumes and a street meat, and then we headed to the TKTS booth in Times Square.  Normally, the TKTS booth can have a really long line but we seemed to arrive at a decent time that we didn’t have to wait too long.  And thank God because dirty pissy bum was fouling up the air.  We seemed to be standing right in the wind path so we could get a full nostril-full.  Yum.

Before we even got to NY, I was confused and on the fence about which show I wanted to see.  I spent half an afternoon reading reviews and story synopses.  There were many stories I was familiar with:  Chicago, Sister Act, Phantom of the Opera, among others.  But there were quite a few shows I had never heard of:  Catch Me If You Can, Book of Mormon, and so many others.  After scratching off the ones I definitely didn’t want to see I had to ask for opinions because even though I’m familiar with a story that doesn’t mean that Broadway production of it would be any good.  It was like I was researching for a Ph.D. or something.  Seriously.  And the crazy thing is that what I was aiming for we didn’t even see.  Oh, I’m not disappointed because we ended up with something good.

I think I was swayed by the guy voguing in front of the booth.  Or maybe it was the cute little sailor outfits.  Whatever.  I decided that we should see La Cage aux Folles.  I’m happy with my decision because we got half price tickets for the carbaret tables right up front of the stage.  I’ll tell you about the show in a minute.

After purchasing our tickets we headed up to 60th and Lexington for a street fair that I’d heard about. I know these street fairs can be the same everywhere: street meat and other street food, cheap trinkets and other useless junk, but I like stuff like that.  We weren’t trying to spend a whole bunch of money.  We bought some crepes from a guy from Gabon.  He seemed surprised that we know where he his country was located.  He must have had us confused with stupid Americans.  I also bought some cheap ass earrings that will probably turn my ears green.  Hey you know, it’s all in good fun.

I’ve been to NYC many times so I’ve seen my fair share of the Empire State Building and the Statue of Liberty. Now I’m into exploring other neighbourhoods. I had never been to this part of Manhattan. We just wandered around to see what could be seen and enjoyed ourselves on a very sunny and beautiful afternoon.  There was no rush to do anything.  Sometimes you just need to stop and smell the flowers.  Except for SF.  That poor thing.  Her and her allergies.  I think she set a record for number of sneezes in a weekend.  It was at least a million.  Perhaps more.

So about the show.  I had known that the show was in its closing weekend.  That’s too bad because the show was freakin’ awesome.  But we were told that since Priscilla, Queen of the Desert was also a drag show, they probably didn’t want too many drag shows going on at once.  Whatever.  La Cage is definitely something I’d see again.  Basically it was about a gay nightclub owner in France during the 70s.  He and his lover had raised a straight son who was getting married to a girl from an ultra-conservative family.  The son asked his parents if they could pretend to be straight for just one night.  Actually, the son asked his natural father to be straight and invite his drunk, absentee mother back to the house so they could pretend to be one big happy family.  The other father, the super gay father, was asked to leave altogether.  Then they get this cockamamie idea that the super gay father would go masculine.  When the drunk, absentee mother didn’t show up, super gay father decided to dress up like a mother, a la Mrs. Doubtfire.

In between the crazy antics of the family were scenes from the transvestite night club, complete with ultra masculine men dressed up in bikinis and corsets, with high kicks and acrobatics.  Include a dominatrix, some drama queens and men who can do the splits, well, you’re in for a good time.  If you’re easily offended and astonished by gay men loving life, then you should probably sit this one out.  It’s too bad because you’re missing a great show.  I’m glad we saw it before it closed.

Sunday
The next morning, we decided to skip out on the free hotel breakfast. Fake, sliced egg and cold cereal is not my idea of a hearty start, so we asked the front desk guy if there was a diner or something nearby. He pointed us to a bodega. Enter your friendly neighbourhood drug dealer. Look, I don’t want to be stereotypical, but a black guy hanging out on the corner with a bank roll the size of my head is probably up to no good.

I was confused by the bodega.  All of them are so different, and this one didn’t take credit cards.  Strangely, they did allow you to smoke.  You might have missed the sarcasm on that one but there were two people smoking inside the store and a third guy came in to buy a single and he also lit up.  Calvin, the drug dealer, immediately introduced himself to us and offered to buy us anything we wanted.  It was really quite bizarre.  He was like, “Anything you ladies want.” We weren’t at Ruth’s Chris but I still felt odd asking some strange man to buy me a egg biscuit so I declined, but SF was in desperate need of a hot chocolate.  Something that costs a dollar is probably harmless.  That’s when he flashed his bank wad.  100s, 50s, 20s.  I was like… uhm.  Well, thank you for your time.  He was harmless and a little bit funny.  He asked us if we wanted him to show us around the city.  Then when we found out we were from DC, he wanted us to invite him down there for the weekend.  Yeah, we’ll get right on that.  I ended up giving him my phone (thank you, Google Voice) because I always manage to get sucked into such things.  Since he was not creepy or stalkerish I didn’t see any problem in being nice to him for a few minutes.  Sometimes it’s more of a hassle to be a bitch to someone because then they really don’t leave you alone.

Since we still had not eaten, we just decided to go back into Manhattan and find something there. We got sucked into an expensive mediocre breakfast at TQS (or something like that) somewhere in the vicinity of Broadway and 50th. We were trying to stay close to the TKTS booth to get tickets to a matinee show.

The line for matinee tickets wasn’t long at all. It took us about 20 minutes to get through it and get tickets for Avenue Q. Again they were half off and we got seats in the fourth row from the stage. While waiting for the show, we walked down to Herald Square for some shopping. Good thing we decided to walk because we discovered Melissa Cupcakes. They sell these teeny tiny little cupcakes. Mmmm. So delicious. We shopped and loitered on the street for awhile, then walked over to the theatre.

Avenue Q was HILARIOUS!!! I wasn’t sure what to expect because it’s a puppet show, but forget about all that. It was just so funny. I don’t know which I liked better: La Cage or Avenue Q. I think I like them equally just in different ways. I warn you though: Avenue Q is not recommended for kids under 14. Full puppet nudity and such hits as “Everybody’s a Little Bit Racist,” “The Internet Is For Porn,” and “It’s Okay To Be Loud When You’re Making Love.”  The story is about a kid who just graduates college and moves to a slum in Queens.  He meets a girl down the block and falls in love with her, but fucks it up because she wants to get married and he’s looking for purpose.  Enter a one night stand, a puppet who loves porn, a gay couple, and a Jewish-Japanese couple.  It was basically about trying to figure out what you want to do with your life and what happens to you while you’re busy making plans.

After the show we did some more wandering around and ended up walking a huge circle looking for something decent to eat. I am not into chain restaurants like TGIFridays and Red Lobster. We had eaten more than our fair share of street meat. I was desperate for some pad thai, and thanks to my Trip Advisor app, we did find a place: Bangkok House on 8th (or was it 9th?) between … oh, I don’t know anymore, maybe 47th and 48th. It was some street where there were plenty of restaurants: Spanish tapas, Turkish, an Irish pub and a whole gamut of others.

At any rate, the food was excellent, the perfect way to end our trip. We got back on the train after being chased by a guy desperate to give us comedy show tickets. He said, “Do you like to laugh? I’ve got comedy show tickets. Eddie Murphy’s brother.” I replied, “No, I don’t have a sense of humour.” Then he said, “It’s like Schindler’s List.” Uh. Okay. Not sure how that is supposed to be funny.  And how come all the comedy shows in NYC feature a relative of some major comedian? Eddie Murphy’s brother. Tina Fey’s second cousin.

SF and I are headed back later in June to see the Cirque du Soleil show Zarkana.  Then I’m going to bring the kid to see Lion King.

We didn’t get home until almost midnight and then I found out Osama bin Laden was dead.  But that is for another post.

How Do You….

… tell someone their gift sucked?

Usually, when you get a gift that sucks, you should just be grateful that you got something and keep it moving.  If the gift is from a relative, you should try your best to use or wear whatever it is at least once so you don’t look like a complete ass.  If it’s from a friend, you kind of have to evaluate your friendship.  Some friends are sensitive and will take exception to you saying, “Yeah, this is a piece of shit.”  Other friends might appreciate your honesty.

So, this is the conundrum.  My father asked me what I wanted for my birthday.  I told him since I was moving into a new apartment I really needed cookware.  He told me to go on Amazon and pick out my cookware.  Just because it’s my dad, I selected several sets in different price ranges.  Sometimes my dad can be spendy, and other times he’s more frugal.  I don’t like to come off as greedy with my father, so I just pick different prices and he can decide.  Whatever price he picks, I’ll be happy because I picked out the best I could get at each level.  See my method of thinking?

Anyway, I’m a cook.  Not like some Rachel Ray or some shit like that, but I do cook the majority of my meals.  I will say I’m a fair cook.  I do know my way around in a kitchen.  I’m past the college dorm room stage where you get cheap ass pans from the dollar store and come up with some kind of concoction for supper.  I need pots and pans and bakeware and high quality utensils and all that.  My father asks me if I was sure of the choices I made.  Absolutely.  Yeah, as much as I’d like the Emeril set, I’ll be happy with Cuisinart or KitchenAid or whatever.

My dad sends me an email saying he got the pans from Overstock.com and they should be at my house in a few days.  I’m all excited.

I got the pans yesterday.

I’m not excited.

The pans were NONE of the pans I selected.  I’m not even upset by this at all because they could be something I didn’t even think of before.  So I bust the pans out the box, wash them and go to start dinner.  I wanted an omelet.

Crash and burn.

#fail

#fail

How about instead of an omelet I got scraped up egg mish-mash burned up something that had to be thrown away because the pan was not good.  The pans are stainless steel.  I know how cook with these pans.  Don’t put the heat on too high, use adequate spray or oil.  I use spray to cut down on calories.  Yikes.  I could have sprayed the entire can and it wouldn’t have made a lick fucking difference.  Not only that, but the pan was scorched on the bottom.  I only had the heat on 4 (out of 10).  I also have recessed burners.  It’s an electric stove but not the kind that has those things sticking out the top.  I don’t know how to describe it.  When you think of an electric stove, that is not the kind I have.

Wow, is all I can say.

What fucking sucks is that I threw the box away thinking the pans were going to be all right.  Sadly, they need to be returned because they aren’t good.  I tried the other pan just to see if I was an asshole.  I boiled some water in the sauce pan and the bottom is also scorched even though I set the stove to 3.  One of the tops was also broken.

Ugh.  My dad is probably going to be like, “Did you get the pans?  How do you like them?”  I would be a total ass if I said, “Yeah, these pans fucking suck, dad, thanks!”  I can buy my own pans.  There’s no problem of that, but I hate being a shitty daughter.  I hate saying stuff to my parents that makes them think I’m ungrateful for what they do.  I do know that not a lot of parents help out their children, and that many parents want to help their kids but cannot.  I realise that I am way too fucking grown to be still getting birthday presents from my parents.  That is why I don’t want to be an asshole, but the pans fucking suck.

Seriously.

I was using an electric wok up until I got the pans and I’m so glad I didn’t throw it out because I’m going to have to bust it out again until I can go get some decent pans, because this shit ain’t gonna work.  I planned on making a tofu stir fry tonight and the last thing I need is some soy scraped up all over the damn pan.

Yeah, I’m a terrible daughter and I’m going to hell.  The most obedient daughter would be happy and use the damn pans no matter how burnt and scraped up they get.

Le sigh.  Everything in my life is always over the top.

Happy Birthday To Me

Happy birthday to me.
Happy birthday to me.
Happy birthday … to …. meeeee….
Happy birthday to me.

Because only I would sing Happy Birthday to myself on a blog.  Hahahah.

Overall, it’s been a pretty excellent birthday celebration.  As you know, I’m one for celebrating my birthday for the entire month of May, often associating things that have absolutely nothing to do with my birthday as part of my extended celebrations.  Just because I feel like I can.

I started things off right on Thursday by going out to an impromptu happy hour with some friends.  We went to TGIFriday’s in Laurel for  a few hours of Jack Daniel’s wings and watered down drinks.  It’s a good thing that I’m not one for drinking.  I had a good time, but that’s because I didn’t spend any money.

Friday, I had a totally random blind date.  Well, it wasn’t really a blind date, actually.  So, a group of us from my social club were supposed to meet up for a birthday event in Silver Spring, but then the hailstorm from Kansas randomly appeared.  Because I show up ridiculously early to everything, I didn’t have to attempt to drive through all that nonsense.  Some people called to say they were going to be late or not coming at all because of accidents, treacherous road conditions and all kinds of mess.  So one guy was already there and I didn’t know it and he was like, “Do you just want to hang out anyway?”  Uhm, okay.  We ended up going to Austin Grill and sitting in there for a couple of hours eating half priced appetisers.  He was an interesting guy, but not for me.  I don’t do obesity well.  Not that I’m the thinnest person in the world but I do draw the line at someone who could be a Biggest Loser contestant.  Was that mean?  Yeah, I’m sure it was.  Honest, but mean.

Saturday, ugh, drill.  The best thing is that it finally stopped raining and the sun actually came out.  I like to think that the sun shone especially for me because I asked God the day before if we might be able to have some sun.  (Yeah, I really am that over the top).  The true highlight of the day was my birthday gift from Compton.  She is such a surpriser.  On Thursday, she emailed me to ask about the drill dates.  She didn’t know whether we were still doing three days or if we were back to two days.  I told her we were back to Saturday and Sunday, and then I added a PS.  I said, “Oh yeah, Saturday is my birthday so bring gold.  Diamonds are acceptable too.”

Okay, when you say shit like that you don’t really expect anybody to bring you diamonds and gold.  First of all, who has money like that, and second, even if somebody had money like that, what makes me think that anybody would be ready to plunk down some gold ingots just for me?  So Saturday morning, Compton walks in with this little box, like a Chinese take out box.  What’s inside?

Diamonds and gold!!!

Okay, not real diamonds and gold, but this cheesy plastic diamond ring and chocolate gold coins.  Oh, my God, it cracked me up!!! I was dying laughing.  I thought that was the most awesome thing I’ve received in a long time because it was exactly what I wanted but not exactly.  See, that is why you need to be specific.  And she said, “I just doing as requested.”  That was the best.

It is too bad that I had to sit through drill in the first place, but since I already bitched about that I’ll move right along to after drill in which we all went to Fogo de Chao.  I had a great time.  I’ve been to Fogo de Chao before but it always cracks me up how the gauchos literally run around the restaurant with platters of meat.  If you forget to turn that damn card over they will magically appear at your elbow with a side of cow.  “Filet, ma’am?  You want some sausages?  Would you like sirloin?”  Oh, my God, I was stuffed and I told myself not to go in there and be a big fat pig.  Then I had to have a glass of wine and drinking, even the smallest amount makes me incredibly silly.  It is like I cannot control myself.  Thanks to Ceciley, I have now begun to expand my wine palette and I actually like wine, but I just don’t like being stupid and laughy about everything.  I guess I need to build up a tolerance…. by drinking more and thus exposing myself to even more foolishness.

We definitely need to invite Dorsey and m-Wade out with us again.  They are freakin’ hilarious.  Poor Dorsey.  He really did look like he belonged to the Oki-Town Boys (this lame ass gang from Arizona).  All he needed was a net over his hair and some bedroom slippers and he would have fit right in.

The best part of the whole night?  No pouting.

Sunday, I thought I’d be tired for drill but I wasn’t.  It didn’t really hit me until after drill.  I was exhausted but I was supposed to go out with Mitko.  I had already stuffed myself with Chinese food at lunch so I saw no point in trying to go out to dinner again on top of being sleepy.  He seemed tired too so we took a rain check for Monday.

Monday, after cramming 12 hours at work trying to get the hours for my Hawaiian extravaganza, Mitko and I went to dinner at our favourite low-budget diner, where you can order all three meals for $15.00, plus a dessert and two snacks.  When he found out I went to Fogo on Saturday, he was peeved.  I didn’t want him to come because I knew he would feel all awkward with military people, plus Dorsey and m-Wade would probably have thought he was gay.  He’s European so he has that flair about him.  It’s weird.  Added to the fact that he only knows three words in English, it’s just better that he stays at home.  To appease him, I decided that we will go to Fogo, just he and I, when I get home.  Especially since he’s going to help me move.

Tuesday, I am going out to dinner once again with the ladies from my social club.  It’s a makeup for the hailstorm disaster that occurred on Friday, since we did not get to meet up with each other.  Instead of Silver Spring, we’re going to Melting Pot in Columbia.  I have never been there before, but Stewart Jefferson Airplane had suggested it for the Monthly Mafia Meet and Eat (I just randomly made that up right now).  She said it was a great place to go, so we’re headed there after drill in June.  It was kind of coincidental that the social club decided to go there.  I hope the food is good.  Judging by the fact that they don’t even list their restaurant prices, I’m like… hmmmm.

Wednesday through next Wednesday I will be in HAWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIII.

So this will be five days of eating out, plus a week long vacation of eating every meal out.  My bank account and my waist line is definitely showing the fruits of my labour.  Yikes.  It’s all good though.  After I get back from my Hawaiian Extravaganza I’ll buckle down again–even though Memorial Day weekend and my usual round of barbecues might get in the way.  That’s cool though.

Like I always say, there is nothing better in the world to me than being in excellent company with intellectual conversation and good ass food.  What else could you really want in the world?

Thank you to all my friends and family who called, wrote, texted, emailed and Facebook’ed a Happy Birthday message to me.  I appreciate all your kind thoughts and well wishes.  Everybody that contributed to my “I need a new iPod” fund, I thank you endlessly.  My shiny new pots and pans are going to look great in my brand-spanking-new kitchen, Dad.  Shayla, I am still waiting on my MJ Forever tattoo knock-up.

I am grateful to God that I have been able to enjoy another year of my life in the best of health.  I still have all my fingers and toes.  I’m not going blind or deaf.  I’m not dying of cancer or some other disease.  All of my friends and family are still healthy, happy, and whole.  I am not homeless.  I do not have any serious stresses in my life.  Everything that I truly need is right here.  Now, after that, I really don’t need anything else in the whole wide world.

Happy birthday to me.

A Song For My Mood #42: Wild Child by Enya

Wild Child

by Enya

Ever close your eyes
ever stop and listen
ever feel alive
and you’ve nothing missing
you don’t need a reason
let the day go on and on

Let the rain fall down
everywhere around you
give into it now
let the day surround you
you don’t need a reason
let the rain go on and on

What a day
what a day to take to
what a way
what a way
to make it through
what a day
what a day to take to
be a wild child

Only take the time
from the helter skelter
every day you find
everything’s in kilter
you don’t need a reason
let the day go on and on

Every summer sun
every winter evening
every spring to come
every autumn leaving
you don’t need a reason
let it all go on and on

What a day
what a day to take to
what a way
what a way
to make it through
what a day
what a day to take to
be a wild child
What a day
what a day to take to
What a way
what a way
to make it through
What a day
what a day to take to
be a wild child

A Song For My Mood #41: 1979 by Smashing Pumpkins

1979

by Smashing Pumpkins

Shakedown 1979, cool kids never have the time
On a live wire right up off the street
You and I should meet
Junebug skipping like a stone
With the headlights pointed at the dawn
We were sure we’d never see an end to it all
And I don’t even care to shake these zipper blues
And we don’t know
Just where our bones will rest
To dust I guess
Forgotten and absorbed into the earth below
Double cross the vacant and the bored
They’re not sure just what we have in store
Morphine city slippin dues down to see
That we don’t even care as restless as we are
We feel the pull in the land of a thousand guilts
And poured cement, lamented and assured
To the lights and towns below
Faster than the speed of sound
Faster than we thought we’d go, beneath the sound of hope
Justine never knew the rules,
Hung down with the freaks and the ghouls
No apologies ever need be made, I know you better than you fake it
To see that we don’t even care to shake these zipper blues
And we don’t know just where our bones will rest
To dust I guess
Forgotten and absorbed into the earth below
The street heats the urgency of sound
As you can see there’s no one around

May Baby Mayhem, May Your Thoughts Wander

There’s a lot going on these days:  attempted car bombing in New York, oil spill in the Gulf, devastating flooding in Tennessee.  It seems like I went to bed one night and woke up the next day to find out the world is going to hell in a hand basket.  Oh, wait, the world was always going to hell in a hand basket, I’m just now finally noticing this.

A lot has been going on with me too.  May is always crazy for me.  It seems like my social life really picks up and takes off in May.  Probably on account of my birthday.  I usually take the entire month to celebrate it with different friends and family members, and I also associate everything that’s going on with my birthday even if it doesn’t have anything to do with it at all.  My friend thinks I’m a lunatic because I do that, but I just tell her that I think birthdays are important.  She says that birthdays, like any other day, like holidays, are just days on the calendar and don’t mean anything.  Too many people treat every day like every day, and they fall into this rut where life is thing where you just sit down, hang on and shut up.  I actually enjoy being part of my life.  I like to have some involvement in it, not just some dreary co-existence where shit just happens and I’m like, “Oh well, that’s life.”  Yeah, there are a lot of things that are “that’s life,” like having a job, paying bills and annoying family members, but everything doesn’t have to be like that.  That is why I take the time to have an enjoyable birthday.  It’s not just another day.

It doesn’t matter how old I’m turning.  I feel so much younger than I actually am.  I feel better today than I did at 17.  I may be less attractive because I weigh more, but I feel 16 some days.  I get up in the morning and I have so much energy, so much power like I can take on anything.  Yes, there are days when I’d rather just lay in bed all day, but that is normal.  Everyday can’t be the best day.  The actual age is irrelevant.  There’s nothing special in being a particular age.  It’s just the fact that I’m alive another year, safe and sound, and my friends and family are healthy and whole.  I praise myself for meeting certain milestones and kick myself for failing to achieve goals I’ve set.  I re-work those goals and try to figure out how I can accomplish them.  Because I have a mid-year birthday (sorta), I work it along with my New Year’s resolutions.  How have I been doing so far?  That’s why I treat it more than just some random day on the calendar.

I’m disappointed that I won’t get to celebrate it with SF, but she’s in a better place now.  I hope this tour of hers makes a man out of her.  I’m also disappointed that I won’t be celebrating with my sister this year.  Almost every year, I went down to Florida in the early part of May to have a shopping spree with my sister.  Now she’s in Arizona and it’s not all that easy to get to. She won’t be coming with me to Hawaii either.  We probably won’t see each other until July or August when she comes back east.  There are other people in my life I care about and like to spend time with, but none so much as those two.

Mitko and I will probably go to dinner some time this weekend or next week.  Then I’m supposed to be going out with some friends from my old job.  Then I’m having dinner with some friends from my other old job.  Too bad I have drill on my actual birthday (ugh) but luckily we’re supposed to be going out afterward so that’ll make up for having to spend my birthday with undesirables and in uniform.  I haven’t worked on my birthday in a very long time.  I almost always take the day off, but the military doesn’t consider a birthday an emergency, so into the trenches I go.  I did also have a party to attend, but that has been rescheduled to June, as well as my birthday outing with Ceciley.  Between her housewarming and everything that is going on with me, plus moving into a new apartment, we couldn’t get together for our bi-annual birthday dinner.  That’s like a week worth of dinners.  I’ve been struggling to lose more weight just in case I get into this military school, but you know what, I can go on a starvation diet after all is said and done.  I much prefer spending time in the company of friends with good food and conversation.  Everything else is secondary.

But for all the dinners and movie outings and shopping trips I have planned, nothing, and I repeat, nothing, is going to come close to my birthday extravaganza this year.  I have been doing birthday extravaganzas for about six years now.  Every year I take myself to some place new.  I adore travelling.  It’s a significant part of my life.  I grew up travelling and I have never been content with just sitting in one spot.  I guess it’s wanderlust.  Maybe it’s curiosity about what’s out there.  Maybe it’s… I don’t know.  All I can say is that I love to travel.  I wish I had a travelling job.  I wish I had a job that offered more time off so I could actually get out more.  Yes, I love dining out and I like shopping and all of that, but I prefer to travel.

The other night when we were at SF’s going away dinner, we talked about what we liked to spend our money on.  Alex said she spent her money on shoes.  Maq said she spent her money on her kids, but we all know she spends her money on MAC products and random impulse buys : ), and SF, well, we all had a good laugh because she spends her money on quack doctors.  I swear, every five minutes she calls up talking about some new homeo-psycho-neuro-patho-therapist doctor/nurse’s aid person who has the cure for everything in the form of some magic beans.  She always has me shaking my head when she arrives with some new diet, some new tea or tonic or some crap that is supposed to make you healthier.  And she is willing to drive all the way across the moon for it too.  Anyway, I said I didn’t mind living in people’s basements and driving a ratty old car, as long as I had the money to eat well and travel.  That is all I care about.  I don’t want to own a home.  I don’t want a fancy new car (I do, but not really).  I don’t want the top of the line gadgets.  I want to go places.

I’m very thrifty and I save up all my money for these uncertain times, but I keep two accounts:  one, for the future because I don’t plan on working myself into an early grave, and two, so I can travel.  When my sister was still in Florida, I used to go down there several times a year to revitalise.  Now my whole family is in Arizona, so I try to get out there twice a year to see them.  Then there’s random day trips to New York, Philadelphia, and all the historical sites in the Mid-Atlantic.  I hope to get up to Boston this 4th of July.  I also want to do Atlantic City and Ocean City before I move away from this area.  I’ve never been to either, and it seems kind of silly I’ve been up here almost eight years and haven’t seen those points of interest.

Then I take a big trip every year and that is my birthday extravaganza.  The last two years it was Chicago.  One year it was Atlanta, then Beverly Hills, and New Orleans.

This year, it’s HAWAII.  You have no idea how excited I am for this trip.  Because of the depressed economy, it suddenly became quite affordable to visit Hawaii.  Hotel prices are now reasonable, air prices are manageable.  It’s too bad that I’m going alone, but I don’t even care.  Everybody else can stay here with their bills and over-refrigerated office jobs.  I am going to lay on the beach!  And hike Diamond Head.  Visit the U.S.S. Arizona Memorial.  Then I’m going to wander through quaint little Hawaiian villages and eat, eat, and eat some more.  Then I’m going to lay out on the beach again with a good book, my big floppy sun hat and some J. Lo sunglasses.  As much as I like doing things with friends, I am not afraid of my own self.  I can spend time with myself without feeling all nervous and lonely.  Most times I do like being by myself because I don’t have to take into account another person and their needs and desires.

I guess I’ll take this time to do some soul-searching.  I need to make some changes because I think I don’t really want to be here anymore.  With the exception of a few people, I don’t really like the people I’ve met while living here.  I notice the few close friends I have are people who are not from here.  Maybe it’s this region.  Maybe it’s me.  Who knows?  But I have had the feeling that I do not belong here.  I think I was destined for something greater than being a brain dead paper pusher.  The things that people in this area desire are not my desires.  I have no interest in securing a government job so I can slave at it for the next 35.5 years.  I don’t want a professional husband.  I don’t want to own one of these overpriced cookie-cutter homes.  I’m tired of coming into this over-refrigerated draughty office everyday with these boring stuffed-shirt type co-workers.  I’m tired of office meetings that drone on and on endlessly.

If my company offered more time off rather than the standard 2-3 weeks, I could vacation more and recharge for these long stretches of Suburban Life.  I just don’t think I was meant for this.  There’s got to be something better.  So I’ll go off to Hawaii, alone, and while I’m staring off into the blue wonder of the sea, maybe the answer will come to me.

That’s the thing about birthdays.  If you’re not one of those people who’ve already been assimilated into Everyday Life, you start thinking about the future.  Some people think about getting married, settling down, doing things that normal people do.  Some people worry about getting old and looking old.  Some people, like me, start worrying about the perils of simply existing. I don’t want that to happen to me.  If I apply a little more effort, I can prevent that.

Eight days till my birthday.  Twelve days till Hawaii.