Day 233: Future's so bright I gotta wear shades

Aside from the fact that he's greasy, sleazy, and has a creepy grin, I further dislike Jack Nicholson because he always has sunglasses on. ALWAYS. (And always when at the Oscars, too!) I find wearing sunglasses inside completely unnecessary. Except for when on a metro train that goes underground, above ground, underground, above ground, tunnel, above ground, like mine does.

It is bright in the mornings and I wear my glasses for all the outside portions, and push them to the top of my head for the inside parts. However, today it was early and I was sleepy and I just didn't have the energy to push them up and down, so I wore my sunglasses on the metro whilst underground. But at least I was clean and not creepily-grinning and not dating someone one-third of my age.

Day 232: Time travelling

With the exception of maybe my senior year and kindergarten photos, I could do without the rest of my yearbook pictures. But thanks to the funnest web site ever, Yearbook Yourself, I got the chance to try again, in five different decades, by seeing what my yearbook picture would look like in different years.

Some of them were awful, some gave me an unnecessary double chin, and some were just kind of creepy. The highlights:

1950 and 1956


1960 and 1968

1974 and 1990

I like 1974 because it's only two years after my Mom graduated and looks a lot like her hair in her picture. (Sorry, Mom, the 1972 person had a bob.) I like the 1950s and 1960s ones the best. I would totally have been ok in those decades as long as I could be an angry feminist turned hippie. And maybe see the Beatles live, too.

Day 231: I really should become less materialistic

Though still settling in to the new place, I do quite like it. Lots of space, nice wood floors, amazing location, ample closet space. Hahaha, not even close. To be exact, the closet is less than 3 feet wide, my extender bar that has been used in every closet since freshman year, does not fit, thus making it my smallest closet ever. How big of a problem is this? Well, it took three people two trips to carry all my clothes on a big sheet. So, it's a problem. Thus I had to buy, and put together, a garment rack today.
I'm not going to lie, it could be cool to need something and have to wheel out the old rack. Or it could be a real hassle, as it has already meant sacrificing the nook in my room to storage. I really should cut back on my wardrobe. Probably. Or not.

Day 230: It's official

In the six years since starting college I have moved 14 times. Four dorm rooms, five apartments, one flat, and countless stops in-between to home home. Two states, five cities, two countries, and now one district, as I moved into Washington, DC today.

Day 229: Golden boy

As much as I claim to hate sports, I readily admit to always loving the history of them. Though it's insane, the feats athletes do now could be remembered 100 years from now; it goes in the history books too.

Something that will definitely be remembered for 100 years and beyond, Michael Phelps winning eight golds at one Olympics. And I saw every one of them, including his final one tonite. I also got to watch some of this year's Olympics with Mom for the first time.

Maybe not the most traditional of new things, but I watched all of his races in 2004, and again this year, with the same kind of heart-pounding anticipation I only experience during Carolina basketball. And I just was never quite sure I'd get to see history made like this.

Day 228: The second best kind of ring ever

In all my moves over the years, and there are plenty, I've done a lot of packing. A LOT. But today is the first day I've done some packing whilst wearing a ring pop. I may be 24 and on my own, but I like rings and I like candy. And I like a good sugar high when packing up my life for the bajillionth time.

Day 227: Happiness

Finally, a good metro story after yesterday's near-death experience. When leaving the King Street metro this morning, I received a bagel and cream cheese from a lovely lady from Bruegger's Bagels.
I frequent the King Street Bruegger's so to have them finally give something back to me was quite nice. Even if I was weary at first of taking food from a stranger, at the Metro. But her uniform and bageled out car convinced me. That, and the fact that I'm not dead. And, I mean, free food!

Day 226: Oh my knee

"I once tripped on an escalator. I fell down the stairs...for an hour and a half."
- Demetri Martin

Oh, Demetri, your witty observations always ring so true in my life. Only I fell up a metro escalator…for about 15 seconds. Which feels like an hour and a half when juggling a laptop bag and purse, and trying to keep my Rainbows on while struggling to stand upright. Which will be difficult for the next few days as my left knee is twice the size of my right. (Well, two and a half times the size as my right side is bigger than the left anyway.) Can I please win the lottery now before I kill myself on public transportation?

Day 225: Enough is enough

Today I lost my internet connection at my apartment, for the first time ever. While working at home, in the process of moving my document, due in 10 minutes, to our fileserver. I then had to race to Ballston in search of free wireless. An hour later, I got the file sent, and bought my first-ever salad at Cosi. That's enough new for one day.

Day 224: Yes, I went there, again

Ok, fine, I have an addiction/fascination with political scandals. Who doesn't? So what if I wanted to recruit a friend to go the Watergate on the anniversary of Nixon's resignation. So what if I have hung around outside the Mayflower, and now, hung around inside Spitzer's den of iniquity. (Not really, just the lobby. ) Yes, Karey and I went and chilled in the lobby of The Mayflower tonite, just to say I'd been there.

I tried to pick out likely call girls, but they were disguised well. And sadly I was not able to hit the gift shop for my "I went to the Mayflower and all I got was a political scandal, 9 million hits on my MySpace, and this t-shirt*," t-shirt. Next time.

The Mayflower: Me, presenting the lobby?
Karey, silently judging the politicians and call girls, or me? Probably a little bit of both. :-)

*Copyright BEC 2008