You know how they say that having a pet lowers things like blood pressure and stress levels, well I really wish I had a dog around. I walk down the street hoping that someone with a cute, friendly looking dog will pass by me so I can stop them for a momentary petting session. There are tons of dogs in the building. I make nice with the owners in the elevator and have told many of them that I would be happy to dog sit. Sadly, no one has taken me up on the offer. Do I seem like a crazy dog lady? All I want is 30 minutes with a cute puppy or an established companion. Can anyone lend me a dog?
I’ve taken to petting Marc but after a few minutes he gets skirmish and runs away.
I guess I’ll just have to start counting down the days until I land in St. Louis to visit Uma and Bailey. Oh yeah, I’ll play with mom and dad, too.
I loved my tandoori chicken dish at the Capitol Hill Tandoor Grill SOOOO much that I decided to write my first review on YELP. It was well spiced and extra juicy.
I couldn’t stop telling Julia and Jessica how much I loved my dish. I barely made eye contact after our meals arrived. I was, however, aware enough to realize that Julia and Jessica were laughing at me as I was attempting to take every last piece of chicken off the bone.
It was nice to end the weekend with friends eating something other than Thanksgiving leftovers but I might need a piece or two of turkey to put me to sleep.
Before you start reading this, please vote on the poll posted below. My numbers are much lower than desired. Thanks.
There are four men staying in my apartment and only one me. I am writing about our house guest ratio because it is very unusual for me to be surrounded by more men than women. Assessing the situation, I am enjoying myself. Conversation is light and funny. Topics of discussion include relationships (homosexual and hetresexual), the topics they are presenting at a conference, facebook surfing (cute men, cute women) and submitting applications to change.gov.
I’m not sure I want to try and analyze the conversation (or the thousands of other conversations I’ve had with men) but I did notice that the dialogue was quite sexualized. Maybe what I’m trying to say is that I sense a sexual undercurrent. Raging hormones? I thought that ended in the 10th grade.
The phrase “boys will be boys” comes to mind. Maybe this is why I have always surrounded myself with women.
Great show tonight at Sixth & I with Heeb Magazine and SpeakeasyDC. Seven Jews stormed the bimah to each tell seven minute with a Jewish twist. Storytellers included locals, a guy from Baltimore and a bunch of New Yorkers.
Check out Heeb @ www.heebmagazine.com and SpeakeasyDC @ www.speakeasydc.org.
Speakeasy’s Artistic Executive Director, Amy Saidman, shared a great story about her time at socialist Jew camp. I always dreamed about going to a socialist Jew camp, but instead I ended up at a somewhat prissy camp for girls.
I actually didn’t go to sleep away camp until I was in 8th grade because I had a horrible experience at a Girl Scout camp in the 3rd grade. I got sick and spent the entire week in the infirmary. I whimpered in bed for for two days with a strange rash and fever until they finally called my mom. Turned out I had strep throat that went untreated for so long I developed Scarlet fever. I wanted to sue the Girl Scouts for poor care. Funny, I think this right around the time my parents started pushing the idea of law school. Oh-for-the-love-of-Jewish-parents.
Anyway, I was saying that I didn’t end up at socialist Jew camp because I didn’t think the healthcare would be up to my standards.
8 days is a significant number. it represents the number of days in my favorite holiday. chanukah. chanukah is the holiday of lights and in 8 days all good Americans need to light up the night by using their cell phones to phone a friend, a neighbor or a perfect stranger. we must light the path to victory. if the light goes out there will be no miracle.
i started making calls today to folks in missouri. patrick, shawna, mr. hoyt – they all told me they were leaning McCain. so I quit making calls and made a donation. i like all of mr. obama’s commercials and my donation will go toward one nano second of a effective messaging in a swing state.
tomorrow i’ll probably make some more calls. maybe i’ll even get some friends to come over and make some calls with me.
we are on the brink of a mircle. twinkle. twinkle.
I’ve been consumed by work – the High Holidays are just around the corner. In the meantime, check out this article about Sixth & I Historic Synagogue in the Washingtonian:
I can’t believe I’ve been writing for almost a week. I feel good (maybe even a little proud) about this whole writing business and I am happy that people are reading. I can’t tell you how many nice comments I’ve received in the past week. My mom even nominated herself as my #1 FAN. I think that’s pretty cool. My dad on the other hand asked, “Why the blog thing?” I tried to explain to him that all 20-somethings are writing blogs these days – I’m nothing special.
I am really open to suggestions so please feel free to e-mail me or leave a comment on the blog. I actually only wrote about Libby after she threatened to cut me off if I didn’t post something about her. Just kidding. She did make some remark about getting on my blog but in no way was I forced to write such sap because of a threat. I love Libby, I really do love her.
But seriously, thank you for reading my blog and giving me such positive feedback. I also want to thank my writing inspirations. I’ll let you know if you made the [inspiration] cut e-mail at close of business tomorrow in the form of a Celine Dion-style ballad.
Annie & Libby Early 90s. I think we had just finished a piano recital. We both took lessons Ms. Doosenberry. I hated practicing and only did the bare minimum – 20 minutes a day. My mom had to ask me to practice about twenty time before I would actually sit down at the bench. Of course, I always dreaded my lesson because I hadn’t practiced enough and I couldn’t play the songs very well. Libby was much better than me but her family is more musical. I have bad genes, what can I say.
When this picture was taken Libby and I had already been friends for seven years. We met at B’nai Amoona Preschool and became best buddies – BE FRI and ST ENDS. As young girls we spent most of our time deciding which boys in our class we wanted to marry. I think I chose Kenny and Libby chose Matt but we were fickle and always changing our minds.
I memorized Libby’s phone number before I knew my own. We talked on the phone all the time and begged our moms to let us have play dates every day. We liked spending time eating grilled cheese and pickles, exploring the pond behind Libby’s house (I always begged to go fishing) and riding around my neighborhood in my brother’s convertible hot wheels.
Those were the good old days. Now we spend our time chatting on Google, working 9-5 or in Libby’s case 9-11 .
I was taking a short break this weekend from my computer but I’ve been told that all of my fans (ha ha ha) are refreshing their browsers every five minutes to see if I’ve written a new post.
Instead of working on my own blog I’m exploring ideas for a guest appearance on Spin the Truth. This is Julia’s new blog written by and for young sassy progressives. I think people have definitely called me sassy pants but I’ve never heard anyone say, “You know that Annie, she sure is a sassy progressive lady.”
Since I’m not sure I consider myself a sassy progressive based on my somewhat lazy lifestyle for the past three years, I think this is a good time to give myself a little kick (in the pants).
I’ve got to get to work but I’ll be back. I’m going to refresh myself and come back with some ideas for getting sassy.
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