My air conditioner should be taken out and shot.

There is nothing I loathe more than an overzealous air conditioner. Actually there probably are a few things but I'm so cold that my brain is diverting much of its energy to keeping my extremeties alive. I have eaten all warm foods and even made a cup of tea so hot that it steams up my eye glasses. That, by the way, makes it hard to work. I have gone so far as to contemplate stealing my boss' baked potato and keeping it safe in my pants. "Why, that bulge in your pants certainly makes you a productive worker. Where has my potato gone?"

Speaking of work, I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed. Not necessarily the type of overwhelmed that comes from being stressed and overworked; it's more like the "i-feel-stupid" overwhelmed. "Greater canopy leaf area and height may redistribute nutrients to tree islands, primarily through evapotranspirational pumping of groundwater and higher rates of dry deposition, and this nutrient subsidy is believed to be essential for tree island maintenance and expansion." Huh?

I also have no idea what my coworkers are talking about half the time. I feel that I am perpetually being obtuse. "Obtuse" is my new favorite word....besides "hoo-ray."

Oh! the dog just ran into my door! Now I'm sure that I have litle rat-terrier bits all over my office.

Well, tonight I think I'll curl up into a little ball. If you have a comfy down or fleece blanket, or the new Harry Potter, or a Phantom Planet cd, or if you look like Jake Gylenhaal (all 4 would be ideal) then feel free to join me.

I'm not wearing any underwear.

I'm not. This isn't really attempt to be sexy. It is more a reflection of how I really need to move into a permanent house and do some laundry.

This morning I lost my wallet (and my teddy bear Mike). Apparently I am irrepressibly calm in such situations. I'm not sure irrepresibly is the right adverb in this situation because calmness is not a state that needs to be repressed. Anyway, my non-freaking-out was exasperating to others.

I found my wallet (40 minutes later; it was in the door of my car) and in a quick review of its contents was struck by the diversity (and large quantity) of credit card receipts.

• 6.29 - Victoria's Secret - Roseville, MN - $44.98
• 7.05 - B Dale Texaco - Roseville, MN - $120.22
• 7.08 - Green Lake Amoco - Green Lake, WI - $27.41
• 7.08 - Mike's Payless Auto Repair - Princeton, WI - $67.50
• 7.11 - Eckerd Pharmacy - Pitsburgh, PA - $8.55
• 7.16 - H&M - North Bethesda, MD - $35.64
• 7.17 - Metrorail - Washington, DC - $20.00
• 7.20 - HanAnReum Groceries - Wheaton, MD - $24.55
• 7.21 - Giant - Silver Spring, MD - $19.58

Missing are two receipts for rather expensive automotive repairs. (Fon du Lac, WI for approx $100 and North Bethesda, MD for approx. $750) Would anyone like to buy a car?

I apologize if this posting has wandered into the realm of oversharing.

Diversions of today include:
www.dcist.com
http://whyihatedc.blogspot.com
www.collegehumor.com

I'm famous!

Although I have already had more than my fifteen minutes of fame (mostly local news programs dutifully recorded by my loving parents) I have been yet again immortalized. . . www.livejournal.com/~megwyne At this worthy and wonderful site (slightly less-so than my own I'm afraid) my witty repartee has been recorded for all to see.

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At my last internship we had to circulate five factoids about ourselves that were not included on our resume. I have the urge to share with you. These are however not the original one submitted to my coworkers

1. I remembered to apply deodorant this morning but I'm afraid I neglected to brush my teeth. This is strange considering my obsession with good dental health.

2. I have a crush on an almost complete stranger. http://peisersoze.easyjournal.com Please don't tell him.

3. Someone once asked me what I was passionate about. I replied, "comfortable shoes." I'm not sure where to go with that.

4. I am rather afraid that I will be implicated in some sort of fraud. At the very least, my income taxes will be complicated.

5. My boss just used the phrase, "Get your feet under the table." I can only assume that this a British colloquialism. However, only one of my feets is currently under the table. The other is under my ass.

I have to get back to work . . apparently that's what we do here

Not so funny this one

If anyone cares, I have had some feedback on my blog:

• "Some of the best literature I've encountered in years."
• " I like your style of writing. I think you got some talent. Are you hell bent on publishing or do you have journalistic ambitions?"

One of those comments was from someone I'm not related to.

I apologize for not writing more often. However, I now have a job that I like enough to not slack off. However, however, that isn't stopping this post.

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Today I was downtown (DC) and I encountered a man who wasn't wearing shoes. He seemed relatively clean: khakis, t-shirt, button down, hiking socks. His dental health was lacking and he was unshaven and sucking his cigarette to the nub . . . but still clean. Anyway, this man asked me where he could buy size 13 shoes. As I have enough trouble finding my own size I couldn't answer. It also didn't help that we were in the business district and I don't really know where anything is.

This man (I'd name him but I think that might trivialize him) told me that he had heard about a job but that he couldn't check it out without shoes. Someone had tricked him and stolen his shoes earlier in the day. He asked a few times where he could find shoes and I directed him vaguely uptown. He also asked if I could buy shoes for him, to which I responded in the negative.

I walked away but I was rather upset, almost to the point of tears. What was this man's story? What is my responsibility towards him? How could I have helped?

DC gets me down like that sometimes. It is a rare day that you are not confronted by the poverty or homelessness of another human being . . . in our Nation's capitol no less. But I kind of appreciate being faced with it. It is much harder to ignore the issues when you don't see them. So keep my shoeless man in mind. Remember the woman who makes a newspaper nest at the Tenleytown metro. Be nice to the guy who begs in Union Station because he was laid off and his wife left him. (He really is friendly.)

I know that you don't want to be supporting a drug or alcohol habit. I know that it's hard to carry sandwiches, blankets, and shoes on your commute. It's a deeper issue. One we need to investigate.

I have nothing to say

I really don't. I feel that I should since I only blog about once a month. But I don't want to. Ah well. I could tell you how I drove from DC to St. Paul via New York. I could even write about my new internship, the thousands of books I've been reading, or the fact that I no longer like the smell of coffee. But I won't. I also refuse to tell you about my brother's graduation, my niece and nephew (and how disgustingly cute they are), and the apple that I'm eating right now because I'm hungry.

Cheers

This one goes out to Jonathan

This past weekend I got sloppy drunk. Yup. me. It does happen. Those of you who knew me in college may say that it happens more than one might expect. But that's not all. Nope...

I drunk dialed!

*gasp*

What is so tempting about the fluid cohesion between alcohol and cell phone? I am not the booty call type of person. I don't think it's really all that fun to invite some guy over to witness my slurring, stumbling, oft-times puking self. That's not real attractive. Even if I did miraculously finagle a hook-up, I'd probably just fall asleep. Besides all that..i"m really just a sweet and innocent young woman.

I don't do the "I am so over you" calls. Or the "Please don't leave me! I still love you! You'll be sorry!" I'm not even partial to the "I have a huuuuge crush on you. teehee." or "I hate you. Drop dead." or "Guess what Mom/Dad/Boss/Pope? I'm drunk off my ass right now!"

So why call? Why do I endure the day-after embarrasment of "Hey. you called me last night." or "Hey. Thanks for the funny yet long, rambling, and totally uncalled for message. "

For some people it's tradition. (Ed-o!) For other's it's merely because I was left alone long enough to get bored or lonely. I mean really, some wing-women take un-nceccessarily long in the bathroom. And the walk home? Forget it! Even while chasing a Best Buy cart through a residential neighborhood, I can still need to talk to someone.

For others (this last one included) I really couldn't tell you. I was drunk! At least according to my source it was amusing, "75% about the 40 Japanese people in your living room; 20% gibberish and something about shopping; 5% scandalous proposition."

To all those I have called...and to those I may call in the future......

"Dude! I am sooooo drunk right now. Hiiiii!"

My Irrational Fear of Today

This isn't like today's irrational fear. As in, yesterday I was irrationally afraid of toaster ovens and today I'm irrationally afraid of binder clips. I am a little afraid of binder clips but that's another story. No, I am afraid of today.

It is April Fool's Day. "Happy April Fools Day!" I should exclaim happily as I tp the office. But no, instead I think I will cower in fear under my desk. Please don't play any pranks on me. I loathe pranks on me. I don't even particularly like pranking other people...mostly because I fear retribution.

Why, you may ask? Perhaps it's because I'm a native New Yorker, natively distrustful of everyone and everything. Perhaps it's because I'm somewhat insecure and I feel that your good natured April-Fooling is mocking me. Maybe it's because I'm well aware that I can embarrass myself perfectly capably. Just wait long enough and I bet you that sometime today I'll have toilet paper on my shoe, ink on my face, and spinach between my teeth as a I fall down the stairs insulting someone who's standing right behind me.

But that's just me. The rest of y'all enjoy your tom-foolery.

And the blogging begins

Greetings and Salutations,

In an effort to stay somewhat tied to the greater technological world I have decided to blog. I wonder when that will be added to the dictionary.

Is it cool, I wonder, to say, "Hey there! check out my blog." Is it a status symbol? A mark of genius that I am so inclined to share my thoughts with the world? A selfish notion that others might actually want to read those thoughts?

Or am I just another geek? I'm pretty sure I can't pick up a guy with my beautiful blog. How my blog sparkles in the light. The shining personality and kick-ass...well...ass of my blog.

I had a professor once who said that I overused incomplete sentences and that they should be labled in the margin. (She also mentioned idosyncratic comma usage and, more importantly, an impish sense of humor) So I leave you with this...

FRAG!

That wasn't a really good ending, was it?