Cape cape cape

Last month my friend, Shana, held her annual birthday cape party bar crawl. This was the fifth time she’s held it and the second time I’ve attended.

Whenever I tell people I’m going to a cape party they are always perplexed. Which I don’t really understand. Who says only superheroes and children can wear capes? Why wouldn’t you want to gather a group of friends and day drink whilst wearing a cape?

It was so much fun. Even though I only made it for a few hours and 3 bars due to extreme exhaustion leftover from brother’s wedding festivities and travelling.

We started in the party room at Shana's apartment building for sandwiches, cupcakes, and drinks.

Then we walked to the first bar. Walking down the street, as a group, wearing capes, really should be experienced by every one at some point in life.

The first bar we attracted the attention of several kids, which is always fun.

Pit stop on the way to the second bar to pet the doggie. Such a good doggie.

At the second bar everyone engaged in some beer pong. I subbed in for a round and drank water.

The third bar was farther away so some raced and some, like those in high heels, ambled. As we got closer, one caper spotted a fellow caper dancing in the road, and skipped to join him. You just have to love it.

The third bar brought another drinking game which I was terrible at. Ping pong balls are just too light and too hard to aim.

The third bar is also where I became the Wearer of The Worst. Shana had buttons that we all put funny sayings and titles on and one was The Worst. Shana got it for buying a round of drinks, Christian got it for yawning, and I got it for being the last to walk in the bar.

My costume was one I had thought of in January: Superstorm Hurricane Sandy from Grease.

Sadly, pretty much no one got it without explanation. They thought I was a lego, a dice, or that I was just supporting equality. Which is ok, because I do support equality.

My hair was nuts to start and then feel steadily throughout the day, of course. Since it required me to sleep with my hair all pinned up, it also may have had something to do with my exhaustion.

I'm sad this is the last year Shana will be doing this, but have no doubt she'll have something equally if not more ridiculous and fun next year. As she said in her thank you email afterward, it's just so nice to have people in your life who will willingly and happily don capes for you. Friends are good like that.

Things I Learned This (Long) Weekend

Dante was foreshadowing the Crystal City underground when he wrote "The Divine Comedy."
Because Crystal City is a circle of hell. There were many metro delays on Friday evening that had me stuck on a train for about an hour at the CC station. I finally gave up and thought I'd find a bus. Wrong! I wandered around the impossible underground maze of stores, which were eerily devoid of shoppers and owners, for a half hour. On my third trip outside to find a bus, I instead found a cab. Best $25 I've ever spent.

If you love fruit dip and have no self control you shouldn't make fruit dip.
Especially when you're the only one around. But that damn fluff/cream cheese/vanilla mixture is just heaven on strawberries. And a fork.

They really mean "rummage" at a Rummage Sale.
A church at the end of my block had a rummage sale on Saturday, my first rummage! And they really mean rummage. They had tons of clothes in heaps on tarps. I skipped them at first, heading for books and housewares, where I picked up 4 books, a "Votes for Women" packet, a basket, a divided tray, and a solid tray. I then meandered back to the clothes and after spying some nautical flag napkins -- I'm kind of obsessed with nautical flags -- decided to jump in to the heap and dig. (I didn't actually jump, but there was digging.) I found 1 hat, 2 skirts, 1 dress, 1 pair of pants, 2 J Crew wool sweaters, 1 Old Navy sweater vest, and a child's Vineyard Vines polo dress I thought I could wear as a dress. (See more on that below.) What was the grand total for all of this? A whopping $16! (Actually $20 because I donated the change. It's a church!)

I have a big head.
Or at least a head that's too big for a child's dress. I gave it to my co-worker for his daughter. At least it was only a $1.

A sewing machine and a little patience can lead to a new wardrobe.
Or what feels like a new wardrobe. On Saturday I took in six skirts! Two were from the rummage sale and four were from my closet that I've been making fit with safety pins for the last two summers. It was alarmingly easy to take them all in and I'm so happy to have six new (to me) skirts in my repertoire.

The inside of an iron with a retractable cord is a mess.
I dropped my iron for the 100th time, but this time from a distance of about 3 feet on to hardwood floor. The iron still works, but the cord can no longer be stored neatly within.

The Jonathan Adler store is pretty.
And expensive. His store opened in Georgetown in the fall but this was my first visit. I only took one picture, as inspiration for what I can put under my own new (to me) cloche. But the entire store was lovely and modern and bright.

You know you're in for an interesting show when you have to take off your shoes and wear these.
This is B and I before a dance performance at the Kennedy Center. We knew ahead of time we would have to remove our shoes, stand for 45 minutes, and there would be nudity. Wowza was it a show. (See more on that below.)

Some people play fast and loose with the word "art."
I won't get too specific out of respect of the "dancers," but we saw what was billed as a dance show. We walked in to a long, white room with various large squares on the floor. Some squares had plastic cubes, some had piles of paint, two had a disgusting amount of fake, dark hair, and most squares had a person, wearing only flesh-colored undies. Yep. For 45 minutes the crowd walked around and amongst the squares, watching the performers dance, move cubes, freeze, and eventually roll in the paint. (And the hair, which was awful.) It was different, to be sure, but at least we have a good story to tell.

I seriously love a weekend trip to pool.
As I blogged repeatedly last summer, I'm sure I'll be blogging the same this summer in terms of trips to apartment pool. I just love it so. And this year they have new chairs that can lay completely flat! Hello, easy reading on my stomach.

I seriously love a weekend trip to the pool...even if my knees look like a "weird butt."
Or so says an FB friend after I briefly posted this photo. Umm, pretty sure everyone knows those are my knees, and not my butt.

Too much foot soak + electronic foot bath = bubble madness
I made three trips to the kitchen sink with a handful of bubbles before giving up. I bought the bath on crazy sale on Sunday, thinking it would be great for use with all my assorted foot products. I'm hoping it was just user error or else this thing will be going back.

Why I Love Rihanna

Part 1: The Concert
Last week it was finally time for my January birthday gift from Shana: Rihanna! This is one of the best surprises/gifts I've ever received. I didn't even know she was coming so to have Shana tell me way back in January that we'd be seeing her, in our city, in person, was just wonderful.

We had nosebleed seats but I didn't care. (Obviously.) She sang and danced her heart out for 90 minutes, and Shana and I danced and sang (and sweated) our hearts out with her. I knew every song, almost every word, and so did everyone else.

She didn't talk between songs, which was criticized in a review I read, but that's not what I came to see. I came to see her perform. Which she did. While she had about seven wardrobe changes, the stage set was pretty simple, not too distracting, which I appreciated. 

It was a Monday night and I had a client meeting the next morning, but I was just so happy and hyper I didn't fall asleep until after one. I'd do it again and again.

Part 2: The Performer
A lot of people find my love of Rihanna almost antithetical to who I am and what I stand for. I don't feel the need to defend this, but I will anyway.

A lot is said* about her as a performer, generally criticizing her clothes, song content, and dance moves. I can’t say I like everything she wears, says, or does, but I like the vast majority of it. Yet I do struggle sometimes with the fact that being a Feminist is such a huge part of who I am and how I choose to present myself, and I do not believe in women using sexuality alone to define themselves.

But, I also believe very strongly in women having the freedom and confidence to discuss and portray sexuality without judgment. I admire Rihanna for embracing her sexuality without shame.** I appreciate that she is authentic in her actions and doesn't say one thing and do another. She knows what she likes and she owns it.

Beyonce was taken to task for wearing a skimpy leather negligee at the Super Bowl, which took the focus off her talent and to her body. I both agree and disagree. Powerhouse-vocalist Adele’s body is talked about quite frequently, and she’s generally covered head to toe. But how is that different, it’s still all about the appearance? Both are talented vocalists and complicated women either way.

I think society is still very uncomfortable with a woman telling us exactly what she wants. Many are more comfortable with the Taylor Swift-brand of faux innocence that continues to exalt purity and base a woman's worth on her virginity. Which is unbelievably wrong. I’d rather be watching a performer confident in who she is, how she looks, how she performs, than both hiding behind and perpetuating arcane societal pressures. If the point needs to be hammered home while wearing a short skirt, than let's try it.

It’s a delicate balance to be able to embrace sexuality and not be defined by it. I don’t have a solid answer. It’s complex. Just like a woman. Just like most people. And I just love Rihanna for trying.


*A lot is also said about her personal life and this is all I will say: I despise Chris Brown and will never forgive him. I believe that outsiders rarely, if ever, understand the intricacies of another couple’s relationship. There is psychological proof that women often go back to their abusers. If I ever saw Rihanna, I’d hug her and tell her she could do better.
**In a way, by the way, that men in hip hop have always done, and in a much more crass manner. Tell me one rapper who has never grabbed his groin on stage and then we can criticize Rihanna for doing the same thing.

Come and fill this place

I’m not a very religious person. To be quite honest, I’m not good at religion. Yet I’ve always had a Christian faith. I believe in God and Jesus and the New Testament. I have doubts, of course, and even hesitate to call myself a Christian sometimes because I just don’t think I deserve to. But that’s not what this is about.

In my four years at UNC I was a member of the Baptist Student Union. I was not then, nor am I now, Baptist, but neither were many of the other members. We had a campus minister, but it was really a student-led group of Christians with a passion for the faith and everything that went with it. Some had been in the church since they were born, some were new to the faith, some were exploring; all were welcome.

Seniors at Spring Banquet 2006

We had people passionate about missions or evangelism or leading small groups. We had people passionate about Mario Kart or intramural sports or Carolina basketball. I’m not sure I’ll ever find such a passionate community of peers with such dedication to God and the community.

The heart of the organization was the Battle House, a historic home on the edge of UNC’s North Campus, nestled in the trees. Some members practically lived there, stopping by before, between, after, (and sometimes during) classes to study or, more likely, goof off. I didn’t spend a ton of time here outside meetings, but I have nothing but good memories of it.

The Battle House

For four years I knew where I was going to be on 5:45 on a Thursday. (The weekly worship meeting followed by dinner.) For four years I attended weekly Bible studies and got exposure to the Bible like I never had before. For four years I knew that every fall I’d be at the welcome picnic and that every spring I’d be holed up in a room working on the annual scrapbook. My senior year I was happy to serve as Communications Chair on the Leadership Council, an experience that just reiterated the passion and tolerance of my Christian peers.

Bible Study Fall 2003

There are very few college memories that are not linked to BSU in some way. Watching the 2005 National Championship game in the living room. Watching the final season of “Friends” with a small group in the TV room. Meeting my three best friends, who all came together thanks to BSU. I can’t imagine my life without them. I can’t imagine my college life without BSU.

This only grazes the surface of my time at BSU. So many memories are flooding back right now that it's nearly overwhelming.

Semi-Formal 2006

This was very hard to write because I’ve had difficulty thinking about BSU. Within about a year after we graduated, the organization changed irrevocably. Now it has a new name and is completely unrecognizable from the organization that permanently changed me, my faith, and the lives and faiths of so many others. It’s because of this change that I felt my time there had become tainted. This is wrong. It’s not tainted. It happened. It was good.

Senior ladies acting pensive

The North Carolina Baptist State Convention has announced a restructuring of their organization and an elimination of campus ministry in North Carolina as we know it. It breaks my heart to know that the students who have walked across that rocking chair filled porch, through those front doors, and into the squeaky floored foyer, have not had the same experience and will not have the same experience.

Dancing at Kranc 2004

There are so many things I want to write about this. So many things I could write about what happened to BSU after I left, and things that started before I left. I won’t, though, out of respect for friends that were involved. Not, however, out of respect for those (leaders) who call themselves Christians, proclaim a desire to be Christ-like, and then show anything but Christ-like love and compassion.

Relay for Life 2005

Each spring at BSU we would have a spring banquet. The highlights of the event were the skits the undergraduates would perform for the graduating seniors, and the skits the seniors would perform for undergraduates. Then the seniors would each get a turn to speak about their time at BSU, give advice for those left behind, etc. I don’t remember what I said, only that it was said through happy tears.

Elizabeth as me at Spring Banquet 2006

Finally, each senior is presented with a sketch of the Battle House. We all knew it was coming, had seen the three classes of seniors come before us get the same thing, but it still meant so much. My sketch got a little water damaged during one of the skits, but it’s still suitable for framing.

Door was always open

Except, before I got around to framing it, all the changes happened and looking at it left a sour taste in my mouth. Now I want to frame it and be reminded of four of the greatest years of my life. To be reminded of what a Christian community can and should look like.

Night at the Gallery

I'm thoroughly exhausted after the brother's wonderful wedding weekend. Full recap to come...eventually. In the interim I have a few [long] posts in draft I forgot about.

Two weeks ago, I took Shana with me to the Cocoran Art Gallery for a flash fiction workshop. This was my first experience with flash fiction and first experience since college writing about art.

The workshop was led by a writer who works at the Corcoran, who previously worked at MOMA in New York, and has published works. There were fewer than 10 of us in attendance, which made for a comfortable and open setting. The workshop was based around a current exhibit, Shooting Stars: Publicity Stills from Early Hollywood and Portraits by Andy Warhol. Here is a portion of the description from the website:

Shooting Stars features promotional photographs of early Hollywood film stars alongside Polaroid portraits and black-and-white images by Andy Warhol. Made half a century apart, these two bodies of work illustrate some of the ways photographers have contributed to our understanding of celebrity and fame.

The purpose of the workshop was to view the exhibit and then write about a work in the voice of a celebrity. It could be from the voice of the celebrity in the photo, the voice of a celebrity viewing one of the photos, or really anything. We read same sample works, either written about a celebrity, in the voice of one, or dedicated to one, and then took an hour to view the works and write. Then we re-convened to read our pieces aloud.

It was so surreal and also serene to have the gallery almost to ourselves. (There was one other group touring it.) We got to sit (but not lean against the wall, as I learned) and just write, surrounded by all this art.

I didn't expect it to go so well, to be so inspired by the portraits. I shouldn't have been surprised because I do admire and appreciate art, especially portraiture, but I'm a very slow and meticulous writer and can't usually think and execute so quickly. There were actually several photos that inspired me and had me creating stories in my head.

The one that grabbed me the most was one of the early publicity stills. The subject was a Richard Barthelmess, circa 1927. I had never heard of him, but just now looked him up and he was a silent film star. This is the exhibit photo:

 
He reminded me so much of George Clooney that I decided to write in the voice of George Clooney viewing the portrait. And this is what I wrote:

Look at him. Look at me. Same eyebrows, same hair -- or same hair 20 years ago -- same eyes. He's a dashing guy. He's a good looking son of a bitch. Thank, god. That's all that matters here, right?

He has the right look, the right car, the right address. Maybe he even has the right pedigree, not too focused on either collar, blue or white. He did his time in the chorus line, so to speak, before jumping in to the lead role. He probably even has a shiny award or two, or at least he's been nominated. It is, of course, just an honor to be nominated.

But let's get to the good stuff. He's got the girl. He always has the girl. Or a string of girls. Women, actually. He's not Errol Flynn. No one should ever be Errol Flynn. So what if he rotates them every 2 years. Doesn't mean he's gay or asexual. It means he's bored or choosey or a dedicated bachelor. It's a thing. People magazine said so.

He doesn't have a stint in rehab, but give him time; his next film will be a flop.

But let's go back to his look. that perfectly tailored coat with its artfully popped collar.

The cigarette, so close to slipping out of his fingers, but so clearly a vital part of who he is, before the surgeon general has a say.

I could do without the pinky ring, but to each his own.

But that stare, wow. What is he looking at? Do I look like that? Could I look like that?

I want to know what he's thinking. I think I know.

He wants them to stop talking about his love life. To stop referring to his looks in the past tense. He wants to write and direct more. He wants to be asked in interviews about writing and directing instead of why he isn't married.

I think he wants a drink, a large drink to fill his brain with fuzzy thoughts. Happy thoughts. Because they aren't always there. He isn't always happy. Money, fame, awards, isn't always enough. He wants a break, a drink. He doesn't know what he wants.



Image source

On the Left Coast: LA Adventures

Since this was my second visit out west to see the lovely Jan, I'd knocked out most of the touristy things the first go round. But there were still a few things to do in the city before we embarked on a few road trips.

First, since my first full day was a Friday, I went to work with Jan. She works at a studio so I got to explore the lot while she did a few things in the morning. It was so cool to just walk around the lot and look around. I covered lots of ground, went in the studio store, had lunch at their cafeteria, and watched them set up a scene they were filming for a series.

I spent a lot of time exploring their "legends" section where they have plaque after plaque of people from all walks of the company that they have deemed "legends." I nearly cried when I saw Peter's.

The main building was quite impressive. (And maybe a little creepy, being held up by dwarves and all.)

The real stars.

Later that night we went in to Hollywood to check out a Southern-influenced bar and hang out with some of Jan's friends. The bar was really cool, the drink only ok, the company excellent, but jet lag hit me fast and hard so we called it an early night.

On Saturday we got pedicures with some of her friends and then spent the day shopping in Burbank. Saturday night I helped Jan with a few crafts. It's stuff like this, just shopping and doing crafts, that I miss the most when we're on separate costs. It sucks, actually. But I'm glad to have had the time this trip to do this.

On Sunday, before church, we made a quick trip to right a wrong from the last trip. A visit to the Hollywood sign when it actually reads HOLLYWOOD. (On my first trip they were trying to save the land around the sign, thus it read SAVE THE PEAK.)

 

Us with the sign! Success!

After the sign, church, and lunch it was off to Anaheim for...Disney Land! My first trip to a Disney park.

Things I Learned This Weekend

Being in charge of a Happy Hour is a bit stressful. But also kind of awesome.
It was my work friend Shana's birthday and since she is the usual office HH organizer, I organized this one for her. I got really irked that people replied and didn't go, or went to a different bar instead/first, but it ended up being a good small group celebration for the birthday lady.

You're never too old for balloons.
I don't know exactly how it happened, but one minute a guy was carrying a bundle of the bar's balloons followed by a young girl, and the next minute the young girl was bringing three balloons over to Shana. It may have had something to do with our group yelling, "Look, Shana, balloons for your birthday!"

I can go to the thrift store and only spend $4.
After not going for more than a month, I went and only bought a loaf pan, two books, and a pair of shoes.

Drills are just freaking amazing.
I got a drill two Christmases ago but only just used it for the first time on Saturday. Before I had it I always needed one, thus the asking for it, but then after I had it was afraid to use it without adult/Daddy supervision. Well, now I'm a drilling machine and just want to drill holes in everything. (Which the roommate is thrilled about, naturally.) I even broke a drill bit! Like a bad ass.

There's something very fulfilling in finishing a craft project started six months ago.
I bought and spray painted these keys way back in October, and then lost them. I found them a few weeks ago and finally found a shallow frame and voila, I have this handy bit of artwork to hold keys. With hooks HAND DRILLED BY MOI and keys secured with ribbon threaded through holes HAND DRILLED BY MOI. 

The only thing better than finishing a project begun six months ago is to finish one in the works since a year ago.
I bought this vintage dancer brooch from an estate jewelry salesman in Eastern Market on President's Day weekend with my sister. In 2012. It was chipped in places and had some missing jewels and pearls. (I don't have a before picture but these look like mine did expect for different colors: Etsy 1 and Etsy 2.) I wasn't crazy about the random mix of colors anyway so I bought a variety of blue and green crystals, cleaned her up with some silver paint, and here she is, finally.

The best way to procrastinate doing taxes is to watch a movie and organize paperwork.
I watched "The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel" while clearing out all my files. (Pay stubs from jobs held 7 years ago? Bye!) Then I did my taxes. In less than an hour. And the movie was really good, too.

A beautiful day plus a Pier One store closing sale is a dangerous combination.
As a reward for doing my taxes, I set out for a walk on our first real Spring day. (Finally!) Unfortunately, my walk took me right to the Pier One in my neighborhood that is closing. Since I have no self control/really did need fake flowers, I walked out with these beauties. (40% off!) I still have some arranging to do, though.

Top photo: The vase is a Waterford vase I selected as my 5 year anniversary gift at my job. It's so heavy and lovely.
Bottom photo: Please also note the amazing calendar Karey got me and the other ladies for our birthdays. She went way back into the photo archives of our friendship and put together just the best calendar of memories. Each month is like opening a time capsule. I love it.

Standing five rows back at a concert is awesome.
Sunday night I went with three friends to a Frightened Rabbit concert. Shana gave me a bunch of random CDs as part of my bday present and theirs was one I really enjoyed. Since the tickets were cheap and it was Shana's birthday, I decided to see them live. They were really good and being so close to the stage was a first for me and made it all the more intense and enjoyable.

Some people still wave actual lighters.
Ok, I hate when people hold up their cell phones for light at concerts, it just seems so yuppie or something, but, honestly, the lighters made me nervous. I wanted to scream, "Fire hazard!"

Standing five rows back at a concert for 2 hours, in new boots, when you have a bad back and a propensity to feel faint after standing for too long is not awesome.
So I left before they came back for the encore. And I have no regrets about that.

Life Lately

I know, I suck. But in my defense I had a crazy deadline last week that had me taking my computer home every night and working over the weekend. But it was all worth it because the client loved the work and had minimal changes. Which never happens. Ever.

So get ready for a whole bunch of "Ooh, I should blog about this!" stuff from the past two weeks.

March Madness
It's that time again! And even though my Heels have been up and down this year, lately they've been more up than down. This was the ladies and I watching the State rematch at B's.

Best. Trial. Ever.
I've become completely obsessed with the Jodi Arias trial. It's just riveting and disturbing and amazing. I can't wait for it to become a Lifetime movie. She's just so clearly guilty and crazy. And, also, a guilty crazy liar! She's changed her story so many times on the stand, in ways I thought only happened on courtroom TV shows. If she isn't convicted, I will go to Arizona and protest outside the courtroom.

Wedding Fever, part 1
Karey and I are just in love with "Parks and Recreation" and the main characters Leslie and Ben. When they got engaged earlier this season I said we were going to throw a party for their wedding. Well, the wedding was a lot sooner than I expected, so no party, but we did have Funfetti cake and ice cream. If you don't celebrate the wedding of two fictional characters with a bestie/roomie, I feel sorry for you.

Jennifer Lawrence is perfection
I'll join the throng of ladies who want to be her best friend. I have 3 best friends already, but I would really love her for a fourth. I think she'd work really well in our group.

"The Book of Mormon" better be good.
The play is coming to the Kennedy Center next year and I was in charge of getting tickets for me and two friends during their member presale. (I got a membership for my birthday, thanks parents!) A full 24 hours after they went on sale, after hours and hours of refreshing the site, and having the entire site crash, I finally procured three tickets for August. Whew.

Wedding Fever, part 2
On our first group trip to David's we settled on a bridesmaid dress. I don't know the rules about revealing wedding details on someone else's wedding, so I won't say which one, just that it's in one of the pictures and we love it.

Audrey, re-incarnated
The sons of my idol, Audrey Hepburn, authorized a digitized Audrey for use in a British chocolate company commercial. I must say, I don't hate it. I actually kind of love it. It makes me wish I could have been alive, even just for a day, when she was at her peak in the 50s or 60s, so I could see her do things new.

Forgetful Fran
I felt the need to name the forgetful side of me. Because when she shows up, she does it epically. Like the day last week I didn't have my wallet. The day that also happened to be "deadline" day. The day that also happened to be when I forgot my lunch. Oh, and also the day where I had no money on my metro card to get home. Thankfully, I have ample people in my life at work I knew I could lean on. One officemate gave me a $20 without hesitation, and another bought me a drink and dinner when I wanted to celebrate my deadline. (I gave him $20 the next day.) So Forgetful Fran became Grateful Gail.

Good and Bad Showers
This weekend I'm very excited to go home to North Carolina for the wedding shower I'm co-hosting with my sister for our future sister-in-law. I'm not excited, however, for the snowstorm (not really a shower) we'll be getting tonite. In fact, I'm quite pissed about it. Please send me all your good travel vibes, if you will.

The End
Hopefully only for a day.