Day 340: "Peace, with all the world is my sincere wish." (Washington)

Today was the start of a busy, Christmas fun filled weekend as Mom and Melissa came up to do some shopping and sightseeing. We started by taking a candlelight tour of Mount Vernon, my first trip to Washington's humble abode. (And by humble abode I mean freaking awesome mansion right on the water with grounds galore.)

It truly was a candlelight tour, along the grounds, with actors in historical garb dotting the path. We got cider and ginger cookies by a fire surrounded by colonial townspeople gossiping, before making our way in to the main house. Mrs. Washington told us tales of Christmases past, and complimented me on my red coat. (Which I think says a lot as a number of red coats in the past shot at her husband.) We saw the room where Lafayette slept and a little camel. We had the most disgusting meal ever described to us, consisting of turkey, chicken, pigeon (?), and one other fowl fowl. We saw the stunning view of the river and spent way too long in the gift shop. Definitely worth the price and the cold, and I hope to go back and see it during the day soon.

Being greeted by the Washingtons in the welcome center:
Back view of a model of the house:
One of many trees:
My favorite, which I also kind of matched:

Day 339: What can't mud do?

Every time I go to Sephora I tell myself I won't spend a lot of money, and I won't make it somehow a new thing. Today, shockingly, thanks to a $15 off coupon, I didn't spend a lot, but I did make it something new. Thanks to my lovely "beauty insider" reward card having enough points, I got to choose from three free samples, and I chose this hair mud mask thing. Though I've used facial mud masks for years, today I applied a conditioning mud "mask" to my hair for the first time. It didn't go on as thick as I'd hope, but after leaving it on under a hot towel for 15 minutes, it left my hair really smooth, shiny, and smelling good. I think the free sample has done its job, I want more.

Day 338: Too much work

*New camera received! Scroll down, down, down for pictures!*

I recently read this article, which claims more people are turning away from blogs, and to sites like Twitter, in order to update others on their opinions and lives with as much brevity as possible. I read another article, somewhere, on the rapidly decreasing ooh something shiny attention span of my generation. Not sure if the chicken or the egg came first, but it's sad.

But most of the time I like my blog and am not going anywhere anytime soon, except maybe to Brandie, my friend/roommate's blog. I wrote in hers today, my first entry in someone else's blog.

It took far longer than it should have and I'm not sure I lived up to her witty and general insightful musings, but I tried. More or less. And this is what I wrote:

Wednesday, December 3, 2008
“I’m only going to say this once and I’m going to need you to remember it...F**k off!”

Ah yes, that's the sweet little Brandie we all know and love. No, the stress of grad school hasn't completely gotten to her, causing her to talk in the third person. This is her roommate, Bonnie, writing in her blog as part of my year-long goal of a new thing every day. (And because it's Wine Wednesday at the B&B and it seemed like a good idea at the time.)

Approximately once a week she will shuffle into the room in her slippers and whine to me about what she should write here. (And yes, despite her constantly accusing me of whining, she does it as well.) Most of my post ideas are ignored, meaning you miss out on such illustrious topics as why Luigi is her favorite Mario Brother and how she likes to mimic Irish accents. But who needs those when you can picture her chasing a cat around to deep fry?

Tonite's discussion – and perhaps a future blog post? – centered on whether or not she should jump into freezing water in Maryland in January…for charity. Yeah, I don't get it either. But history has proven crazy stunts draw attention, money, and action. And if it means she has to get blazing drunk for warmth and shrivels up like a prune, then writes about it for all of us, I'll give her $10 for the kids, or dolphins, or something. DC really has opened up a whole new world for me of people helping people. People offer me cough drops on the metro, twice, while Brandie plays therapist to cab drivers and risks pneumonia for the kids. Who says DC is just a corrupt non-state full of crooked politicians? Not us, most of the time.

Ok, she keeps asking me what I'm writing about and when I'm going to be finished, which means I have annoyed her sufficiently for the night, my work is done.

Day 337: Tar Heel+Chocolate=Bonnie

Everyone knows there is no more noble a mascot than the Tar Heel. No mightier a foe than the venerable giant foot. No object, idea, or notion that can not be improved upon by the simple addition of chocolate. And yes, this even applies to our flawless friend, Mr./Mrs. T. Heel.*

After years of observing the pure chocolate Tar Heel from afar in A Southern Season, but never purchasing for some unknown and stupid reason, I ate a foot made of chocolate tonite. In the past I've consumed a foot made of sugar cookie, peanut butter cookie, and some type of blue lollipop candy, but never before one entirely made of chocolate. I don't know why it has taken me so long.


*I've decided the foot is unisex. It's from Chapel Hill, after all.

Day 336: Doughnut traitor

They put a Dunkin' Donuts in on King Street on my commute walk a few months ago. I'm not happy about this impostor shop infiltrating my turf, but when you need breakfast in a hurry, it's hard to resist. While grabbing my cinnamon and powdered doughnuts today, I dropped my change in their tip jar. I don't want to support their sub-par products, but the people who work there can't be all bad, so I didn't let my anti-DD feelings keep me from spreading a little monetary Christmas cheer.

Day 335: All dogs go to the train station

Despite proving several months ago that Peanut (and Dimples) simply are not adventurous dogs, we still took Peanut with us to drop me off at the train station today. Which meant I spent an hour petting her, trying to keep her nails out of my sweater, and attempting to convince her she is simply not a lap dog. (I only succeeded at the petting her part, like she'd have it any other way.) Of course as soon I get out to check my bag, she jumps in my seat, where she proceeds to sit nicely the rest of the wait and apparently almost all of the way home for Mom. I think she was just acting out since I was leaving, she is nearly human after all.

Day 334: Yuck

We had dinner tonite at a hibachi restaurant in Goldsboro, that despite once receiving rave reviews from Mom and Joey, was seriously off its game tonite. But I got warm doughnuts, a good fortune, and a chance to see baby octopi in real life. Yeah, I really could have done without that last bit, as they weren't exactly alive and in a tank, if you get what I mean.

Day 333: "The only things you learn are the things you tame." (The Little Prince)

I wrote about my love of The Little Prince here once before. And I do love it. Every time I read it or watch the movie I learn something new and remember how it made me feel the last time. I cry at the same parts or new parts, sit in wonder for far too long when I finish. And tonite I saw it performed onstage in Chapel Hill.

This is the second year they've staged it and I'm so happy we were able to go this year. It was very imaginative and captured the spirit of the book very well. The actors fit the roles perfectly and I still can't get over how they staged some of the scenes. Naturally, it made me cry and think too much, but I wouldn't want it any other way.

Dinner at Top of the Hill:
After the play, part one:

After the play, part two:
Hanging around the Old Well:

Day 332: Happy Native American Massacre and Relocation Day!

I'll save my anti-Thanksgiving rant for next year. Even though I'm thankful every day, I do have a lot to be thankful for this year, and as I'm safe and warm at home HOME right now, I have even more. Today I had T'giving day dinner at my sister's, which is my first time celebrating the day anywhere but home. I can't believe I've gone this long without having dinner somewhere other than where my home is, but it's true. (Unless you count holidays in Florida with massive amounts of extended family when I was a baby. But I don't as I have no memory of them, only pictures. And obviously T'giving in London doesn't count as my turkey day dinner was nachos at a pub.) Anyway, happy Thanksgiving to all!

Me and the nieces (In high-contrast black and white, because the camera was just not being kind to me.)

Day 331: Seriously, almost home.

The little kid in Mr. Mom.* Linus in Peanuts. This woman on an episode of Oprah who said every night she kissed her husband goodnite, then her blanket. Am I scaring you yet? In case it's not obvious, these three, and I, all have one thing in common: we all have security blankets. Mine, like me, is almost 25 years old, and has been with me through every phase of my life.**

Today I had my luggage at work, ready to make a break for HOME in the afternoon. Before doing so, however, I decided to make putting my blanket on my lap at work for 15 minutes, my new thing. Needless to say, it was the best 15 minutes at work ever.

And soon I will be HOME, which I need, more than even my blanket.

*I'm a drama queen, but I'm not being one when I say I seriously can't watch the scene where they burn the blanket. It distresses me. And it's why I'm still wary of Michael Keaton.
**Ok, so not that first trip to Europe, but you know Europeans, they could've taken it and made it their next big thing. Ernie's not ready for that.