tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-66178492829542965742012-02-01T19:22:40.503ZPhnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.comBlogger1811100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-77805119130166211092012-02-01T19:20:00.001Z2012-02-01T19:22:40.512Z

When did it become OK to: (1) Turn right on a red light, even though there is a big sign in front of you that says "no turn on red"? (2) J-walk? Wait - not just J-walk, but as you do it, with cars coming your way, give the cars the finger when one of them (not me, I promise!) honks at you, because, you know, you ARE breaking the law after all. (3) Go to happy hour without any cash OR a debit/

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-6497735800445187062012-01-27T19:32:00.000Z2012-01-27T19:32:16.541Z

Life is weird.  Usually, I'm all amped up for December, b/c I love the holidays. This past year? Not so much. I was happy when December was over.  January is usually dark, cold and boring. I usually can't wait for it to end. This year? Not so much.  I actually ENJOYED my January.  Here are some reasons why: (1) I realized I am half-way through a 1-year sabbatical program at work. A challenging

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-65814157298978420032012-01-20T18:10:00.000Z2012-01-20T18:10:58.609Z

I loved the younger brother in that movie Christmas Story - Randy.  He was a riot.  That scene in particular, with him eating the meatloaf, or rather, not eating it, makes me laugh every time.  When I have come to the end of a very long week and I just don't have the energy anymore to deal with life's issues and craziness, I repeat Randy's mantra about meatloaf, and it makes me smile and I feel a

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-28361375733761360832012-01-11T18:24:00.000Z2012-01-11T18:24:44.659Z

Have a holly, jolly Christmas....  Oh yeah, wait. Christmas is over.  Ornaments and good will have all been tucked away for another year.  Back to the bitch, peeps. So here are some things that have so far irritated and infuriated me in the eleven days of the new year: (1) Moped riders who drive their motorized vehicle in the bike lanes, and then cut off drivers and flip us off, as though we

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-86755018470127879912011-12-29T00:42:00.000Z2011-12-29T00:42:08.301Z

Just a small sampling of where I've been this last week and where I'm pretty sure someday I will end up... I kid you not, if I can ever save enough I will come back out home/west to the mountains of MT/WY, and I will wear jeans and boots every day with my hat, and I will drink my coffee strong and bitter and black and I will forget that I ever lived in a cut throat, obxoxious town like Washington

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-56687565493504428632011-12-19T19:46:00.000Z2011-12-19T19:46:35.867Z

In three days I will fly to Salt Lake City, wait on a curb for 3 hours, finally get picked up by my parents, their monster dog, and their 4 cats in one car, followed by my youngest sister, her two kids, their dog and their cat in another car, and the next day drive another 9 hours to a house on top of a mountain, covered in snow, in the middle of nowhere Montana. Still following me?  It's hard,

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-41642853112242253982011-12-14T21:35:00.000Z2011-12-14T21:35:34.904Z

I could tell you guys about the sixth day of Xmas and beyond. I had planned to.  I have it all written, all planned out. But last Sunday my dear friend, who is only 44, had a stroke.  They are still doing serious tests, she's scared to death, her husband is a wreck, her two adopted children don't understand what's happening, Christmas and Santa and all the commercialism stuff is over, I'm 2000

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-31753753366733586712011-11-25T15:24:00.000Z2011-11-25T15:24:03.412Z

Yesterday (Thanksgiving) I had a lot of quiet time to sit and ponder the meaning of being thankful, and frankly, how I arrived at a point in my life where I could sit, in quiet contemplation, warm and fed, and be grateful for another day.  Sure, I have worked very hard in my life, and like most of us out there, I've gone through some very dark and scary periods where my faith in myself and my

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-46508401897887113352011-11-18T14:20:00.000Z2011-11-18T14:20:44.749Z

Yesterday I went out to one of our offices in the field to do some research and meet some people.  A-typical type of adventure for work so I was psyched to be there.  Around mid-day, the big boss held a big meeting. More than 100 people in his division, and he wanted to get everyone together in one room and have them all meet and greet and learn about what each other did.  Basically, it was one

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-42412294663312757592011-11-10T19:23:00.001Z2011-11-10T22:24:43.473Z

I noticed him for the first time a year ago.  He sits there every day, in his dirty black pants, his t-shirt, and his oversized parka.  His beard is grey, his hair is long and peppered with white, his sunglasses are dark and large.  I have never seen his eyes.  Other than his hat, he wears nothing with insignia of any sort to distinguish him from anyone else.  No wedding ring, no watch.  As he's

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-39127655638883696312011-11-07T20:12:00.000Z2011-11-07T20:12:53.499Z

I traveled south this past weekend for a 2 days of getting my ass kicked.  Good times, these martial arts tournaments I travel too.  Way too many people who don't have anything else going on in their lives except karate, all together in one place.  Throw in someone like me, who usually puts karate dead last on my list, and it makes for an interesting time.  I congratulate myself on sort of being

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-42468867343090686622011-10-31T18:21:00.001Z2011-10-31T18:22:04.811Z

I'm worried about myself.  Lately, I've started doing some odd things.  I have started taking Ibuprofin before my workout, and when it's over, I take MORE! When I get home, I use IcyHot patches on my knees and my hip!  I can sit in a hot bath for up to 2 hours, perfectly happy to ignore animals, ringing phones, knocks on the door, etc. I have lately started wearing SOCKS to bed! Yesterday I

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-43706716555556362482011-10-26T20:45:00.000+01:002011-10-26T20:45:38.074+01:00

This was on the Jimmy Fallon blog today, and it's worth cutting and pasting and sharing in full form (and with full credit due!) with all of you....  I personally like the Smurf and the Rubic's Cube comments the best.  What about you? Happy Halloween! Halloween Costumes You Shouldn’t Dress Your Children InPosted by Gloria Fallon 10/26/2011   [Editor's Note: Jimmy's sister, Gloria Fallon, is back

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-48810128236953683672011-10-17T22:43:00.000+01:002011-10-17T22:43:04.167+01:00

I observed a lot of sad behavior this past Saturday on my road trip to see the leaves, and I was left asking myself a lot of questions.  Like...... Why would you get up to the front of the fast food drive through lane, open your door, and deposit your trash bag and drink from the last fast food stop you made right there next to your car for all behind you to see and for the next car in line to

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-7399824017615274562011-10-13T18:30:00.001+01:002011-10-13T18:30:35.140+01:00

The holidays are coming.  My mother has been bitching for months that she wants a new phone.  She's also been complaining that my dad keeps losing his bluetooth headset, and is there anything different we could try?  Easy enough, right? Oh so wrong.  My parents are those parents you read stories about. I kid you not.  It is amazing to me that they have cell phones at all, much less have been

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-53623273094659216622011-10-11T18:03:00.002+01:002011-10-11T21:18:41.596+01:00

The following was sent to me in an email today and it was too good to pass up.   However, I realize it will annoy some of you out there, so fair warning.  These are NOT my personal opinions - they are all excerpts (and I cut and paste from the longer original) from an article that ran over the weekend.  A blogger, Lori Ziganto, responded to some of the pictures of protester signs showing up

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-62083624835374902092011-10-04T17:08:00.000+01:002011-10-04T17:08:32.443+01:00

As a child, the worst nightmare I ever had occurred on a Tuesday night.  Starting the next day I began referring to all Tuesdays as "Nightmare Tuesday".  It is a habit I still have. My calling out Tuesdays really isn't that big of a deal, I mean - Tuesdays usually suck anyway.  It's Tuesday for goodness sake.  Nothing exciting, nothing to look forward to. Not the beginning of the work week, not

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-76991296316217650382011-09-27T19:50:00.000+01:002011-09-27T19:50:31.925+01:00

Two years ago today, I was in New Orleans. I was loving my life; I was in a gorgeous city that for many reasons struck a major chord with my heart and soul. The weather was lovely, not as humid as I had feared.  I had been to the spa for an $80 pedicure (OH SO WORTH IT!), I had been to the voodoo shop and purchased some clove cigarettes for my sorority sisters and I to smoke later that night,

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-31801327505915809362011-09-21T17:40:00.000+01:002011-09-21T17:40:46.048+01:00

Ah, cynical, cynical me. I've been gone for 2 weeks. One week, if you follow the tweets, drinking and tanning in the OBX. I waited a year for that vacation, I loved every moment, and will write some stories from it when I can. This week, I'm in residence training for work. Ugh. One person actually asked me where I was though, and when I was going to update! I almost cried. Note - "almost" is

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-47342911655524756842011-09-07T20:49:00.000+01:002011-09-07T20:49:59.953+01:00

On the ground floor of my agency, there are 4 separate banks of 6 elevators. Normally, catching an elevator isn't a problem, but there are days like today when for whatever reason, they aren't working, or they take forever to arrive. When I rolled in this am and pushed the 'up' button, I was alone in the waiting area.  By the time an elevator finally came, I had seven others behind me,

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-25957076934813812562011-09-02T22:03:00.000+01:002011-09-02T22:03:57.886+01:00

In honor of hurricane season, my house surviving Irene, prayers that Katia (or Kay-tee-ah, as my dad pronounces it!) stays the hell away and the end of summer (sort of), I offer up this tasty treat: 1 ounce of coconut rum 1 ounce of dark rum1 ounce of light rum1 ounce of spiced rum4 ounces of pineapple juice2 ounces of orange juice1 ounce of grenadineServe over crushed ice.....Multiple times,

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-90857346240683414832011-08-31T22:26:00.001+01:002011-08-31T22:26:29.329+01:00

I'm interested in hearing your thoughts: is there such a thing any more these days known as "phone etiquette"?  And by that I mean, when someone calls and leaves a message,  - a personal message - isn't it polite to return the call within a decent time frame?  OH -and not just email or text them, but return the actual call? Or did I miss the memo? I am SO unbelievably tired of people responding

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-71114406207580828872011-08-29T17:16:00.000+01:002011-08-29T17:16:54.328+01:00

You'd think by my tweets, that my house in OBX had been destroyed and thus this was the house of horrors I'm referring to in the title.  But alas, that house appears to have maybe pulled through without major damage (fingers still crossed until I get final confirmation).  Rather, I learned last night that my family home in Montana is apparently this summer's house of horrors! If you're a

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-77053447926827682972011-08-24T19:48:00.000+01:002011-08-24T19:48:09.876+01:00

One of a million earthquake blogs, but you know what, I don't care.... I wanted to write about it.  Oh, and tweet about it! Yeah, scary, but this bird FINALLY signed up for Twitter.  Go figure, I thought it was time to take my bitchy, judgemental self national.  Couple of things to consider though, when you think to yourself "cool, now I can read the bitch on Twitter" (cuz, shit, that's what you

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-56366484016758326392011-08-22T23:57:00.000+01:002011-08-22T23:57:38.117+01:00

I'm always interested in what you, the reader, have to say.  Ok, so maybe I'm not always interested, as evidenced by the fact that I never ask you your opinion and I usually am uber-opinionated anyway and as this is my blog, tend to focus only on myself. I'm an old dog willing to learn new tricks. Wait- scratch that. That sounds horrible.  I am not old and I am NOT a dog.  This is better - I am

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-8466834867326593292011-08-16T22:07:00.000+01:002011-08-16T22:07:28.826+01:00

I have taken a break recently from bitching.  I've been trying to see things from a more positive light....  yeah,  yeah, I know, go ahead and say it...."positive light? Phee, that just isn't you.  We don't read your silly little blog to find out about flowers and romance and how life is like a fairytale.  We come to read the bitching, the moaning, the ranting, the raving.  We come to see how

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-8028355538469943952011-08-09T19:19:00.003+01:002011-08-09T21:09:44.270+01:00

This past weekend, I attended the NFL Hall of Fame induction ceremonies.  If there are any men who read this, other than Krav Man and Peter Pan (which I sort of doubt), you are probably hoping that I'm going to tell you about sitting between John Madden and "Mean Joe Green" as we watched the last two guys in the new class give their way-too-long speeches, and how Mr. Madden was texting the entire

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-72340380812616187232011-08-04T16:10:00.001+01:002011-08-04T16:10:31.201+01:00

I'm suffering through a migraine today, so like a slug am at home, drinking decaff (yeah, bad for me, I know, whatever, leave me alone mom!), not eating, and checking in on all of you.....  Despite having written this and that for over a year, there are times when I really feel disconnected from the blogging world and I'm envious of all you out there who read each other's blogs, and recommend

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-16497312782351643812011-08-01T20:25:00.000+01:002011-08-01T20:25:28.088+01:00

Today is MTVs 30th birthday.  How awesome is that?  Ok, those of you who have only known MTV for Teen Mom and other trash-o-la shows like Jersey Shore are probably thinking "what, MTV has sucked this bad for 30 years?"  BUT NO!  MTV has seen much more awesome days, and they taught generations of us how to dance, how to dress, how to sing, etc.  It was a blast this morning to listen to the

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-11910608544524154312011-07-27T18:29:00.001+01:002011-07-27T18:29:52.730+01:00

As you roar around in traffic this week, once again sucked in to the heat, the humidity, the seemingly NEVER ending Hot Lane construction, potholes and Constitution Ave mess (not to mention the inevitable cranky-ness of your fellow DC / MD and NOVA drivers), take heart.  The folks who supposedly speak for the Big Man have a good sense of humor and made a funny. Seen on the marquee of a church in

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-63462983447676842442011-07-22T15:40:00.001+01:002011-07-22T15:41:36.183+01:00

OK, I am not one of those true movie dorks that can directly quote something from a movie 20 years ago.  However, for the ones I recall enjoying, I can paraphrase.  Anyone remember Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure?  OH, a movie from the mid-80s after my own heart, filmed partially in location in my home state of Arizona.... We had Circle K's there; like a 7-Eleven or a Wawa, only better. (Dudes

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-42353410561492634162011-07-18T17:56:00.000+01:002011-07-18T17:56:05.444+01:00

I got the scare of my life this morning. I had a pedestrian walk out from behind a parked truck into the street right in front of me.  He was not in a crosswalk, and I think the thing that pissed me off the most (after I choked,  hyperventilated and then slowly started breathing again) was that at NO TIME did he ever stop to look at me until after I had hit the brakes, screeched to  a halt and

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-91790878642567933142011-07-12T21:22:00.000+01:002011-07-12T21:22:27.598+01:00

So I spent the weekend out at the Bobby Mitchell Hall of Fame Golf Classic.  I did not win the raffle, which bummed me out big time because who doesn't need a new car? Plus I did not play very well, which annoyed me only because it meant I spent 9 hours in the hot and humid weather, with my boobs squashed up in a stupid sports bra and I couldn't at least brag that I'm a rock star golf player.  Oh

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-39841809147213781712011-07-07T19:15:00.001+01:002011-07-07T19:15:56.155+01:00

OK, I am doing something weird, even for me.  I'm using my space here to give a shout out to the Bobby Mitchell Hall of Fame Golf Classic being held this weekend out at Landsdowne, VA. http://www.leesburg2day.com/in_brief/article_e1a6a988-9dc0-11e0-a765-001cc4c002e0.html Saturday is the practice round and Sunday is the big open tournament, where if you or your small ones feel up to it, you can

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-85211624789631909372011-06-30T16:24:00.000+01:002011-06-30T16:24:10.509+01:00

I literally just posted...BUT, I also literally also just saw THIS awkward family photo.... I have now officially pee'd my pants. And NO - it's not a photo shop.  Look closely, and you'll be able to tell.... He really IS dressed this way...... cheers!

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-31261374185355230162011-06-30T16:15:00.000+01:002011-06-30T16:15:42.122+01:00

OK, so last week I was a tad melancholy. I missed my family, I missed dry heat, and my old neighborhood gang of brats, etc. This week, I have rebounded.  Back to the bitch.  And, I'm not to afraid to say, I'm probably also going to Hell.  I'm not sure if there is or isn't a Hell - I'm not much of one for religious philosophical conversations or deep thought. However, I do know that to laugh at

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-46544012321204285192011-06-22T22:19:00.004+01:002011-06-22T22:25:56.706+01:00

Today, for lots of reasons, I really miss the following things: (1) People who don't attempt to dump their workload off on me, b/c they're too freakin' lazy to do their own jobs.  Whatever happened to people who take pride in their jobs? (2) My fish, Phinny.  He didn't poop on my brand new carpet and he didn't barf up big nasty furballs next to my bed, for me to step in at 5:13am as I got out

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-58912635461680327752011-06-21T20:21:00.001+01:002011-06-21T20:22:13.285+01:00

How many people does it take to change out a box of those flimsy paper toilet seat covers? Apparently, in my agency, six.  Let me share the story..... First off, it was the end of a long day.  Mondays notoriously blow; meeting after meeting after useless meeting, to make sure that no one came down with amnesia over the weekend, and we all still understand and acknowledge what our mission is.

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-12400929175265792602011-06-17T17:56:00.002+01:002011-06-17T18:44:31.390+01:00

A quick burst on this dreary Friday..... I'm sitting here listening to seven - count them! - seven federal agents trying to decide where to go for lunch.  The conversation is going as follows: "So ok, let's go to lunch." "Right on! Where?" "I don't know, where do you want to go?" "I don't care. What do you want to eat?" "Food, man!" "Well ok, yeah, dude, lunch is what we want, but what do we

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-67774254583196657202011-06-08T16:52:00.000+01:002011-06-08T16:52:44.330+01:00

It seems to be all the rage these days, in the aftermath of the Janet Jackson wardrobe malfunction a while back, to slip a nip.  One of those Kardashian chicks did it just the other day - on a FOX news channel, of all places - and reading back through what she tweeted about it, she thought it was all rather funny and cute. Funny and cute?  Hmmmm.  Ok, I sort of fail to see how looking like a

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-23499895731880445712011-06-03T17:57:00.000+01:002011-06-03T17:57:19.946+01:00

Does anyone but me remember growing up with a mother who from time to time, depending on what gross or stupid thing I was doing, would smack me and say "There are certain things that are just not done in public!" One of my colleagues is currently sitting in his cube next to me, clipping his finger and toe nails. Yeppers, that's right.  TOENAILS!  The finger nail clipping is bad enough.  Tacky,

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-54835100099923562912011-05-31T20:33:00.001+01:002011-05-31T21:36:20.350+01:00

I admit that I usually do not stay up late enough to watch Jimmy Fallon's late night show.  I regret this at the moment, because earlier today I saw a segment on the Today show where he is promoting his new book, "Thank You Notes".  It's a take on a bit he apparently does on his show, and it smacks of some of the things I bitch about here. Jimmy Fallon, however, is ENTIRELY way more talented

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-77054811177900915202011-05-25T17:52:00.000+01:002011-05-25T17:52:16.947+01:00

Since coming to DC, I've moved several times.  At the moment, I'm happily out in the hinterlands of suburban VA, but during the first 15 years of my tenure here, I lived throughout Arlington.  As a result, some habits die hard.  I have continued to go to the same CVS from the old neighborhood for all things basic hygiene and for my prescriptions. Good old Lyons Village CVS.  Usually, it doesn't

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-31847856887993795802011-05-20T20:56:00.000+01:002011-05-20T20:56:26.082+01:00

I met him when I was home on Thanksgiving break, my sophomore year of college.  My friend from high school, Dennis, a guy I'd sort of dated but never really did and whose dad was my dad's work buddy, had transferred from Stanford to Temple - Temple offered a full scholarship for football, Stanford hadn't.  When you're 19 and broke and trying to go to college, if someone offers to pay, you go.  He

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-88898043233209856192011-05-16T17:02:00.001+01:002011-05-16T17:02:35.479+01:00

Several of the major news outlets today reported on how bad the allergy season is this year.  Something about the weather swings making the pollen releases that much more potent. Um, no shit sherlock. I am one of the poor slobs that moved to the East coast from the dry, arid lands of the desert southwest, and "developed" allergies.  Growing up, the only things I was officially considered

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-90232408484480530972011-05-10T16:38:00.003+01:002011-05-10T16:42:05.984+01:00

Remember when you were little and goofing off with friends? You'd be eating lunch or something, and someone would ask "hey, what are you eating?"  You'd open your mouth, food half-chewed, and say "see-food!" Everyone would scream "eewwwwww, that's so gross," and the offender would usually laugh and laugh and laugh. Well it's still gross, and even more horrifying, when you're an adult and you

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-51358758493423223602011-05-03T21:23:00.002+01:002011-05-03T23:14:46.005+01:00

Why is returning a phone call so difficult these days?  Seriously, I believe that if given the choice there are folks out there that would rather choke on a pitted olive than pick up the phone and return the call! Take for example - we'll call him Toad.  Toad is not very electronically advanced.  He does not text, he reads them but he doesn't return them.  He doesn't email, at least not very

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-75645274023581841402011-04-29T16:34:00.000+01:002011-04-29T16:34:40.421+01:00

She gets in line, ambling up to the bar, despite the fact that it's a busy place and she knows there are people behind her; people with very little time to get their lunch, eat it and get back to their desks.  This isn't a restaurant or a place to dwell - this is an agency cafeteria, and although nice enough it may be, it is still a place filled with busy people, who do important enough work, and

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-67532145057981154382011-04-26T01:57:00.000+01:002011-04-26T01:57:58.531+01:00

To the men and women of American Airlines: Man, but do you guys ever SUCK! No, really, you suck.  You guys need to get out of that company before it sucks you forever down the large, dark abyss.  That is, if you still have a chance to get out.  Those of you that I met this week on the phone, at Dulles, at LAX, in Vegas and in Dallas leave a lot to be desired and I'm afraid the majority of you

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-47106706035212344302011-04-13T19:43:00.000+01:002011-04-13T19:43:40.240+01:00

It's rainy and dreary outside. My computer hard drive crashed on Monday and I've spent 2 days starting over from scratch; 5 years of my life and work wiped clean and the so-called back-up files my agency said were there?  IT nerds "can't find them!" Shocking. The President wants to raise taxes and the Tea Partiers are swimming in the abyss of total dementia. I have issues I could bitch about.

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-84137148597560123392011-04-07T17:02:00.000+01:002011-04-07T17:02:22.305+01:00

I hate where I work. Wait, let me rephrase.  I love where I work and I love what I do, but I hate the people I work with, at least some of them.  My immediate supervisor being one such dolt. I am fed. I work long ass hours, I will never make as much as some of you out there, and yet what I do - even my small part - ensures that all the rest of you out there CAN do what you do.  You will never

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-87089205758274116182011-04-05T17:13:00.000+01:002011-04-05T17:13:57.651+01:00

Oh shit! My match.com past has come back to haunt me.....  apparently, I am "quite memorable" (his words, not mine) and although I have not spoken typed to him in more than 6 years, via another technological gadget we call Linkedin.com, he found me.  How, I'm not sure, unless he just searched my name, which isn't necessarily all that common but not necessarily uncommon either.  Am I making sense

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-73690647832468608372011-04-04T17:34:00.000+01:002011-04-04T17:34:38.519+01:00

I spent the weekend trying out "how to be positive".  I failed. Want to know why? I read the Washington Post yesterday, where they explained that starting THIS week, the 14th Street bridge would be under construction and that NEXT week, in addition to the bridge work, Constitution Ave would be under construction. All this, during the beginning of the most tourist-infested part of the year. 

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-43298306454611761892011-03-30T22:12:00.000+01:002011-03-30T22:12:59.076+01:00

Today on the way to work, I saw not one, not two, and not three, but FOUR different mini vans with children (without question) under the age of 5, bouncing around out of their car seats. Such an interesting range of emotions crash through my brain and my person that I figured I needed to expand upon them via written word, in an effort to (if nothing else) calm myself the fuck down! First off,

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-27487480816450336032011-03-28T16:44:00.000+01:002011-03-28T16:44:06.813+01:00

What happened to manners? Seriously - I'm asking in all seriousness.  Every single day I am floored by the general rudeness of people all around me.  Take yawning, for example. Has your mother never told you that yawning, with your mouth WIDE OPEN, is rude, not to mention tacky and sort of gross.  At the very least, cover your mouth and turn your head away...... Why is this so hard?  Yet it

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-89390772570372082372011-03-25T19:37:00.000Z2011-03-25T19:37:50.283Z

I love when I find good blogs and good bloggers. People who are not afraid to use the medium as a diary of sorts, rather than a place to write stuff they know 'others' will read.  Honestly, who gives a shit about the 'others'.  It's your space, write what you want.  Um, and hello, I quite literally take that advice to heart don't ya know. One day I'm writing about backstabbers, the next, a

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-43936919235763753372011-03-23T21:32:00.000Z2011-03-23T21:32:43.729Z

Fat Man spent a quiet winter.  After the near fatal shooting incident at Christmas, Fat Man settled into the dark and cold like any good Maine Coon cat would.  He ate, pooped, and slept.  Nothing more, nothing less.  All was well.  The weapon was put away, ninja bad-guys were not repelling in from my loft skylights, and the wrapping paper had been put away. If you're wondering right now what I'm

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-54705974062885737402011-03-21T16:31:00.000Z2011-03-21T16:31:35.666Z

People are weird. I've said it before but I figured today I'd say it again.  People are just plain fucking weird! And it's so disheartening. Take for instance, what I witnessed in my parking garage today.  It has sort of totally deflated me, and hey - I don't deflate easy!  I usually have enough piss and vinegar about the stupidity of mankind to last days and days.  Today, however, I just can't

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-11581956379087701132011-03-17T16:34:00.000Z2011-03-17T16:34:04.888Z

I was speaking with my 9 year old nephew yesterday.  He lives out west, and in 3 weeks I'll be joinging him for Easter break, and we're planning all sorts of adventures including a trip to Disneyland (God be with me! Disneyland during Spring Break? I hope I come back alive.) He was unwilling to wait until then to talk to me, so he called me.  You gotta love kids and the way they think - it's

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-88450447071660358252011-03-16T20:24:00.000Z2011-03-16T20:24:49.314Z

I could write a novel here about my experiences with backstabbers; women who have done it and men who have done it.  If you were to read them all, you might think it's a "virtual tie!"  Women and men both suck at backstabbing. Let me assure you, however, men win by a landslide. Listen, when it comes down to it, women? We're fucking vindictive and we're also catty.  We'll mess up your world, but

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-37551849295565984662011-03-14T20:41:00.000Z2011-03-14T20:41:10.282Z

I got in the elevator today for my daily ride up to the 7th floor. I was the 3rd person in, out of a group of about 8. Pretty crowded, to be honest, as their are 6 elevators in my main elevator bank, and there's a whole other bank down the hall. So for 8 people to be on one elevator is unusual.  We were just passing the 2nd floor when I heard it.  Hell, I heard it and everyone else heard it

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-38084960741073786662011-03-09T20:22:00.002Z2011-03-09T20:22:56.986Z

As a non-Catholic, Lent is always an interesting time of year for me.  I grew up in the Presbyterian church, and my Reverend always told us that, other than the obvious, Biblical reasons for celebrating the season, Lent didn't mean we had to suffer and give up something, but rather could be a time when we could focus on bettering ourselves, with the ultimate goal of sharing our improved selves

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-81315379389845978782011-03-01T18:38:00.001Z2011-03-01T19:14:42.210Z

Apparently, I am a PDA-nerd. First off, what the hell IS a PDA-nerd? After I was labeled with this moniker, in public, mind-you, I asked the question.  Here was the response: "You freak out when I kiss you or try to hold your hand." Silly me. I thought what you were doing was your version of freakin' DEEP THROAT, right there on the corner of the MCI Center on game night, last Friday.  I wasn't

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-64469922550054350602011-02-22T22:02:00.003Z2011-02-22T22:04:55.985Z

This week, I submit copies of letters sharing thoughts I really want to send as a result of my Presidents Day Weekend.  I wish I could send them, I really do.  However, if I did, I'd technically be no brighter or better than the losers I'm bitching about. So alas, I'm just pasting it all here for you guys to read.  Lucky you.  I feel better already. Dear Verizon FIOS: I beat you.  Yeah, that's

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-27508309559034565432011-02-11T18:33:00.006Z2011-02-11T18:40:09.400Z

I have a stalker!  A grocery-store stalker! Ok, so yeah, this is ridiculous, right? You're thinking "Phee, you do NOT have a stalker.  You maybe WISH you had a stalker; like, a hot, beautifully built, ripped guns blazing, white teeth sparkling, full head of dark hair shining, likes cats and football God of gorgeousness stalker - but wishes are for saps, so get over it already. But no - I really

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-43061430999045918592011-02-03T16:16:00.000Z2011-02-03T16:16:39.177Z

There is a morning radio show here in Washington, DC on one of the local rock stations, that I love.  They talk about everything and anything, especially the lead "shock jock" if you will.  OK, they call him a shock-jock, but I personally just think he's funny and real - he tells it like it is. So do his colleagues, which is great; they laugh at themselves first before they laugh at anyone else,

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-82383152155035411692011-01-28T22:46:00.000Z2011-01-28T22:46:17.136Z

My last post was fortuitous.  Forecasters that suck - yeah, well you know what, they still do.  Wednesday's storm?  They said just 1-3 inches, maybe up to 4.  Try 9" out by me, jackasses.  And oh, while you're at it, why not add a shout out to the guy who obviously is your good friend, the OMP shitbird who decided to wait until the storm was starting to let 600,000 federal workers all out at the

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-35290936611986103172011-01-21T15:25:00.000Z2011-01-21T15:25:10.119Z

Dear Bob, Doug and all the rest of the DC-area weather-casting crew: You guys all sort of suck.  Just sayin'. No, it's not just because despite having freakin' million dollar satellites in the air, and more technology than the Defense Department, you still can't even come CLOSE to predicting the weather here.  That's a huge part of it, yes, and frankly if I were to meet any one of you on the

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-4216114297366476482011-01-14T19:18:00.002Z2011-01-14T19:18:39.974Z

I finally got tired this week of listening to the news in my car.  So searching for some soul-comfort, and memories that I could associate with all the GOOD times I had in Arizona, I tuned in to some of the other stuff. I think Larry the Duck and Madison (on XM 44 - the Alt Nation for the 80s) and all the former MTV folks on the Big 80s (XM 8) heard me, felt me, got wind of my psychic need for

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-29476245424615496562011-01-12T21:54:00.000Z2011-01-12T21:54:36.028Z

I've watched all the coverage surrounding Tuscon.  A large portion of my childhood was spent in Arizona, and to this day, I consider it my "home" in my heart.  So to see my state, and so many of my friends who live in the Tuscon communities, suffer, has made me stop and watch everything very closely and with perhaps a slightly different perspective than the bad-news weary average US citizen.  I,

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-67218936075508730912011-01-05T22:24:00.001Z2011-01-05T22:29:00.079Z

I got hit on by a guy in a mini-van yesterday.  At a stoplight in DC, as I was driving home ~ tired, cold, a headache in the works, and a CD player that at that very moment, was on the fritz. I was not in the mood to be 'cute' and/or 'charming'. Me: Stopped at a red light, circa the White House and the Washington monument. Him: Pulls up on the left, hoping to be let in front of  me (or so I

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-19967998504173631802010-12-22T16:39:00.001Z2010-12-23T01:45:38.380Z

http://gizmodo.com/5715848/the-worst-part-of-coming-home-for-christmas?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+gizmodo%2Ffull+%28Gizmodo%29 Considering my parents, the 150 lb shepard/akita mix, Boo, AND one of their cats, Rocky, are all currently on their way from the west coast, and considering that my mother has called me from the road all 3 days so far to ask me to do

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-88255767719926932262010-12-13T20:17:00.001Z2010-12-13T20:20:30.726Z

On the 11th Day of Christmas, Fat Man ate my wrapping paper. First, the cookie dough.  Then, the great escape to the hallway  Now, the wrapping paper.  Fat Man is having one hell of a Xmas season...... I hate wrapping presents (see the previous Martha Stewart post).  I hate corners, and taping, and double sticky tape, blah blah blah.  All of it is ridiculous, and exhausting, and I'd rather just

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-89577672916801941042010-12-10T18:35:00.000Z2010-12-10T18:35:49.026Z

I never watched the Nick Lachey / Jessica Simpson show way back when entitled "the Newlyweds".  Neither of these two people interest me, nor do I find either of them - particularly Nick - all that attractive.  Just me, I guess, but something is off with his mouth.  He does weird things with it; sort of scrunches it up and makes an odd, almost-sucking sort of motion with it from time to time.  You

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-23213240562500760012010-12-08T16:35:00.000Z2010-12-08T16:35:12.940Z

Days 6-8 For those who were kind enough to make sure I knew you were laughing at my baking misfortunes, thanks so much. Your obvious and sincere concern touches my little black heart.  For those of you who could care less about me, but were really worried about Fat Man, um, seriously?  I could be dead on the floor, having slipped in spilled and cat-slurped cherry coconut cookie dough.  Or I

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-19287694441623326442010-12-06T22:27:00.004Z2010-12-07T18:24:33.051Z

Day 4 was pretty boring, so I'm skipping straight to Day 5~~~~~ On the 5th day of Christmas, I baked.  Or, perhaps it would be more accurate to say I tried to bake. Let it be stated up front, I am NOT Martha Stewart. In fact that woman makes me want to throw myself off a cliff.  Seriously, how annoying is Martha Stewart?  Same damn haircut year after year, a convicted felon, knits ugly-ass

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-80010637668866532572010-12-03T18:04:00.000Z2010-12-03T18:04:21.616Z

(1) My date for next Saturday cancelled.  Why I continue to try with this guy is beyond me.  I am NEVER on his priority list.  He is constantly disappointing me, and all I end up doing is bemoaning the fact that I am a dumbass and should get a set and just move on. It's a hard lesson, especially at the holidays when it's annoying enough to just be single, let alone unhappy in a relationship, to

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-70207524880471572152010-12-01T20:35:00.000Z2010-12-01T20:35:34.797Z

I called a guy a douche. I've sworn out loud before, but I have NEVER called anyone a name like that to their face.  But seriously?  What would you do? It's raining - really raining - and we ALL have umbrellas and we're ALL wet and grumpy and agitated by the weather, the traffic and the fact that we're once again, at work.  Adding to it, where I work we ALL have to walk into the same big door

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-15143153058337208932010-11-30T20:26:00.000Z2010-11-30T20:26:07.120Z

(To the tune - come on, you know you know it...) On the first day of Christmas I wanted to destroy the Jack-ass that dented my door! I hate malls; all malls, any mall, I don't care how fancy, how kicked up a notch, blah blah blah.  Whatever. Malls suck.  You know why? Because STUPID people go there.  Let me give you a few examples. (1) the kids who walk along, holding hands or swaying back and

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-40722213408223053142010-11-29T21:19:00.000Z2010-11-29T21:19:54.330Z

Every year I start out the holiday season all happy and cheerful, and I try to maintain that lighthearted mood.  I usually fail.  Basically, with regard to your good cheer and "love everyone" mentality, you might as well just throw a dart at it, my friend. Call me Grinch, baby, just call me Grinch.  This year, GREEN is my color. Ok, before certain parties hound me for being cranky, check that

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-47196785597381767182010-11-16T22:50:00.000Z2010-11-16T22:50:32.074Z

I take a lot of road trips for my business.  I have a day job, but I also own a small business that operates at night and on the weekends, and part of the business requires me to drive vast distances about once a month for meetings and workouts.  Whereas I used to be alone, I now have colleagues who have to travel with me in order to meet their own requirements, and each one has their own unique

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-76862828393878811222010-11-09T21:27:00.003Z2010-11-09T21:33:13.827Z

I haven't forgotten that I'm supposed to be blogging about stuff I'd do if I weren't afraid.  But seriously, people in this world keep doing stupid stuff, and I'm left working my ass off to make sure all of you are safe and not afraid.  So I'm gonna have to get back to all that....... However, this cute little story was a bright spot and made me laugh, and there isn't enough laughter in the

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-51425769838956198112010-10-25T18:29:00.001+01:002010-10-25T18:31:15.977+01:00

I have a post-it sticky in my office that reads "What would you do, if you weren't afraid?" I don't remember where it came from, or what prompted me to write it down, but I've had it for a while now and I look at it every day.  I'm not sure I paid attention to it though, until this morning.  Here's why: Yesterday, my parents called me on the way home from a dedication ceremony at the Alma mater

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-86608915721655851552010-10-15T21:47:00.001+01:002010-10-15T21:50:28.305+01:00

I used to snicker a bit when I'd hear people say "I'm turning into my mother!" or some such thing.  In my youth, as I'm sure it seemed to any of us 'way back when', getting older seemed a million miles away, and doing the goofey things my parents did seemed an impossibility. Welcome to the present. So there I am yesterday, laughing hysterically as I listen on the phone to my father yelling at

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-67073073120679574742010-10-08T03:33:00.002+01:002010-10-08T03:35:58.843+01:00

October 30th. Mark it down. Visit a MD or DC or VA Sport and Health Club.  You do not have to be a member! Donate $25 and take free classes all day long, including one I am teaching! Take yoga, pilates, martial arts, kickboxing, zumba, step or spin class!  Go swimming! Get your game on, enjoy your health and your positive attitude, and HELP SOMEONE out there fight their battle. Support,

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-2597647952750452712010-10-04T21:07:00.001+01:002010-10-04T21:10:22.717+01:00

DC Metro Area Pop Quiz for Drivers~ (1) In the state of Virginia, when it is raining, it is state law that you must: (a) drive 30 mph under the speed limit, b/c after all, it's raining and OMG the world might be ending! (b) make sure your lights are turned off so that no one can see you (c) talk or text on your phone while driving in the left hand lane (2) In DC, a sign that reads "No Turn on

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-46652963633438230032010-09-24T18:35:00.000+01:002010-09-24T18:35:02.372+01:00

I had hoped my ex had not seen me the other night, as I crossed a sidewalk in front of him.  Turns out his very focused attention to his blackberry was for my benefit.  He was hoping I would not see him, for he had definitely seen me.  Interesting. Apparently, since he left me and married the then-21 year old (she must be a whopping 24 or 25 now) he has developed a conscience, because when I got

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-85377398122824857742010-09-22T21:15:00.001+01:002010-09-22T21:19:11.797+01:00

I saw my ex last night. Just a quick view, really. I was crossing the street to my parking garage, talking with one of my best friend / colleagues, and as I stepped into the crosswalk, there he was. First car in line.  Breaking the law, by typing away on his blackberry.  Slightly harried looking and a bit more pudgy than I remembered, hair thinner, new car, a shiny gold wedding band on that left

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-59616682407431437082010-09-16T20:44:00.000+01:002010-09-16T20:44:31.129+01:00

I have bitched about things now in DC for about a year now; bad drivers, bad habits, lack of manners, etc.  Anyone reading this blog should have noted by now, that yes, these mishaps of judgement and the overall lack of common courtesy bother me, but what I write is more tongue in cheek than anything.  I still go home smiling each day and the fact that I can write about these items means I AM

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-83737469049675503832010-09-14T21:07:00.000+01:002010-09-14T21:07:45.938+01:00

I've been home now for 2 days.  Long enough to realize that I barely escaped with my life and that I still need a "real" vacation.  This is a good thing because I still want to go to Nepal one day and trek along the mountain paths and I've yet to learn to make a souffle that doesn't drop.  Oh hell, let's be honest.  I want to go to Nepal and take the REI trip that drives you around in a Land

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-19491514391599871612010-09-13T17:22:00.001+01:002010-09-13T21:52:39.377+01:00

Day 10:  I somehow made it home last night, back to DC - a place I basically hate, but after surviving a week with the Children of the Corn, I suddenly find it oddly reassuring and comforting, rude, obnoxious, ill-mannered inhabitants and all. Where last I left off, the demon spawn were outside my door, chanting Budda Belly over and over again.  My one cat, who was for sure cursing me for giving

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-17286682531461197922010-09-10T15:18:00.000+01:002010-09-10T15:18:24.598+01:00

Day 7 of the beach vacation with the Children of the Corn.... status, unchanged.  Still terrified that I will be attacked in my sleep and that pets will be carved out like pumpkins if I do not protect them.  Children of the Corn up at 6:00am today, and their mother, who has obviously been possessed, was up in the kitchen (same floor as my bedroom) at 6:20, frying bacon because the animals wanted

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-2756383001978661752010-09-09T15:34:00.000+01:002010-09-09T15:34:25.039+01:00

I am currently on vacation at the beach.  I'm lucky-  my family owns a nice home with a pool and hot tub and access to everything the OBX has to offer.  I mooch frequently. Ok, I have to rent the house out for the season FIRST and THEN I get to mooch.  But I am persuasive and thus I usually rent it quickly and then plan my week of rest. Fast forward to this year.  What the hell was I thinking? I

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-41045637953539988152010-09-03T21:15:00.001+01:002010-09-03T21:16:25.994+01:00

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/38990958/ns/local_news-washington_dc/ I feel vindicated.  After all the bitching, slammed breaks, flipped birds, and honked horns, FINALLY someone else sees what I have seen. The zig in my zag, the rip in my silver lining? Now that we all recognize what crappy drivers most of you are, what to do about it??? Ah, a puzzle for my Labor Day weekend by my pool. BE SAFE,

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-6249546762695882062010-08-18T15:09:00.001+01:002010-08-18T15:14:35.953+01:00

I first wrote this piece about 7 months ago on a nasty rainy day.  At the time, I thought to myself "isn't it interesting the way people handle their umbrellas?"  OK, maybe I wasn't quite that calm about it, but whatever.  Here I am today, however, and this time I'm thinking " God, but the majority of people in this town are freakin' inconsiderate d-bags when it comes to how they handle their

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-28197512837566336262010-08-13T20:30:00.001+01:002010-08-13T20:32:13.737+01:00

So one of my current "crushes" is on the band Airborne Toxic.  I dig them.  I like their vibe, their sound, and I like that they're all sort of grungy and dirty.  This is most likely because I work with the platoon of former preppy boy / football star boys who now all wear sunglasses and suits and look bad ass all the time.  You spend too much time next to Ken dolls and you find yourself, every

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-30820934218364582332010-08-12T16:48:00.001+01:002010-08-12T16:50:48.608+01:00

Back in fall 2008, I re-did my entire budget in an effort to knock out excess spending.  I noticed that I was spending a lot of money each month at stupid Starbucks and also, interestingly enough, at the bookstore.  I love coffee and I love to read, what can I say?  These were my personal splurges, and while it crushed me, I nixed them.  I have not been to Starbucks since, and IF I have a coffee

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-64392891864451148102010-08-11T16:25:00.000+01:002010-08-11T16:25:39.336+01:00

News flash for the seemingly growing cult of men AND women of DC who appear to have thrown out conventional wisdom about basic hygiene and sworn off deodorant - I can smell you, and you gross me out.  In fact, my gag reflex, which is pretty rock solid in most cases, has been fully engaged recently, and I resent the taste of throw up in my mouth mixed in with my morning coffee, simply because I

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-3753609428235116022010-08-07T00:38:00.000+01:002010-08-07T00:38:46.419+01:00

This is SO not DC.... and that is why I hope you enjoy....

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6617849282954296574.post-43703366611841909372010-07-27T19:55:00.001+01:002010-07-27T19:57:44.531+01:00

Notwithstanding any disasters, work or home AC-related, I am departing DC tomorrow for the wilds of the Rocky Mountains and all their national parks.  I plan to fly-fish, camp out with the family dog, and take pictures of bears, and lions and moose - oh my! Ok, wait - scratch the lions.  Make that bears, and wolves and moose, oh my!  At least I hope.  Anyway, I will be gone from DC - thank God

Phnx65http://www.blogger.com/profile/05087540931984764662noreply@blogger.com0