Preppy is the New Hipster

Good, not in the conventional sense like upbeat, happy, healthy, but more like tired and sick feeling and pissed off at myself for being the worst worker on the planet.
Orange eyeliner makes me look sick and scary. This way people stay away from me, maybe its because they think I am tough or because they are afraid of germs, either way I am happy about it.

So this Christmas was a little unconventional for a few reasons, half the family was traveling in Europe, I was getting along with my family and I actually got a few things I wanted for a change(Future sex sounds-yeah!). I also got another thing I really wanted, from myself.

I wrapped up a present and put it under the tree, and signed it from the "ghost of christmas present". My mother was confused because it was to me and in my own handwriting. Needless to say it made more sense when I (fake) surprized myself with a copy of the Iraq Study Group Report.

2006: The best, the worst and etc.

Music
-Young Folks-Peter Bjorn and John
-New Order-can't get enough
-Anything by JT
-The Go! Team
-the Islands
-Cody Chestnut
-Old Crow Medicine Show
-the Kronos Quartet
-Beirut

Movies
Favorite Films
-Jesus Camp
-the Science of Sleep
-Drawing Restraint 9
-49up
-Cache
-Los Angeles Plays Itself
-V for Vendetta
-Millenium Mambo
-Le Samouri
-The Omen
-Capote
-the Queen

Least Favorite Films
-OO7 Movie
-Borat
-Brick
-Departed
-Brokeback Mountain

Moments
-John and Caterina’s Wedding
-Ozark Adventures
-Beck on the Backstage
-Maura’s Birthday brunch/Water Ballon fight
-any Brunch with T. Mayo and P. Kiernan
-John and Cat visit DC-Dancing at St. X.
-Midnight adventure through the Dumbarton Oaks
-Twisting Birthday Party
-On-going squash tournament with JAB
-Tree Planting with SCB
-Memorial day Extravaganza!
-Old Crow Medicine Show Concert

Favorite People in the News
-Mark Foley Scandal
-Junichiro Koizumi
-George Allen
-Ted Haggert
-Marion Barry and Co.
-Michael Richards
-Mel Gibson and Tom Cruise(tie)

Guilty Pleasures of 2006
-Mission Impossible III
-J-Crew Shopping on the Internet at work
-Turkey Jerky
-Heartbreaks, and rebounds
-Southerners
-Being a Francophile
-Stress
-calling people socialites or commies

Randomness that seemed to float my boat in 2006
-Kombucha
-Blogging
-Bakelite Buttons
-Toms Shoes
-Book Club
-Beer die
-Michael Bluthe
-The Pear

Ahh, Christmas break. What better way to ring in my lenthy(omg 5 days off) vacation than with some good friends at a Kareokee(sp?) bar.

Needless to say it was quite a scene.

While I have to say that I am neither a fan of singing in front of strangers nor that awful strip they call Adams Morgan, but I was feeling the Miller Lites holiday cheer and can never pass up the opportunity to be a token gentile. I must say though the real selling point was my friend Jacob Greenbaum, or JGB. If you know him, than you understand nothing short of a terrorist attack or a natural disaster would keep you from seeing JGB when he graces the district with his precense; if you don't know him, I would recommend putting your name on the waiting list.

The bar was superfratty, but the company was good, and the entertainment was memorable to be sure. JGB's killer rendition of everyone's favorite pedaphile's (or is that Mark Foley now?) bill board topper, "Man in the Mirror" brought the house down. I mean the kid coaches, motivates and educates young children, so duh, he IS inspiring.

The evening was filled with some good old fashioned fun, and on-going discussion about if it is okay to be a Nuggets fan now in stead of a sixers fan(yeah I obliviously have a strong opinion on this), DC's soon-to-be Brewmaster of 2007, virtual buck hunting, and to top it all off some predictable, but funny standard Adams Morganess. What you ask is Adams Morganess, well I'll tell you:

Some dude in a diagonal striped button down shirt(two sizes two large) facing the tough to pull of challenge of the puke walk-(puking while walking). Yeah, but the best part was when the next frat boy went puddle jumping the stream of big slice up-chuck. Yeah.

Have you ever gotten to work, and realized that your shirt, which you thought was just see-through enough to qualify you as trendy and edgy, is actually see-through enough to qualify you as an eighth avenue slut?

Things to do:

Fix the broken window at my house
Move my shit to Pamelas house; shit includes-bed and books and clothes
Throw out all (shudder) ugly and (shudder) out of style clothes
Thank Tweaks for my sweet T
Go home
Write Essays for Kings College and maybe apply elsewhere
Get keys to Colin
Get Deposit from Colin
Work Work Work
Eat well. 1500 Calorie Limit!
Move shit to Columbia Heights
Not think about RSK-before the do or die meeting in January
Car sit for Caroline
Make a mix!
Celebrate 2007
Work on resumeNow that the southern phase and the French phase are on their way out, I need a new one. I am thinking Russian or Turkish, probably Turkish, I hear Istanbul is just to die for.

Are you allowed to call them the good old days if it was only a month ago?

I cant really figure out why I like ebay so much. Similar to the way that I can't really figure out how to get rid of this underlining, I'll keep it short then. I like Ebay. I mean I really like it. Its like gambling, but I get shit out of it. Except now I have 36 bakelite(?-probably not) buttons on the way from England. F me. I am still excited to be using it. I feel so modern. It is such a departure from the luddite days of yore.

Fair warning: If girls bitching about their relationships doesn’t float your boat I would stop reading this now.

So I have had enough, I have reached my limit. I don’t want to see RSK anymore for a long time. Nothing in particular has set this off, I mean an unreturned text message at midnight, not really a big deal, but it is unfair to me.
I don’t know why this is so hard for me. Actually I do. When I think of someone that I want to date, RSK appears well he doesn’t actually appear, but a lot of things about him appear. First his style rules. I mean as much as he would never admit it, he is almost a preppy hipster. Black pants, blue button down, all black vans, plastic framed glasses. I mean it doesn’t get much more PH than that. He is really more of a republican hipster, but he is close. He smart too. He is soo fucking smart, I love it. His vocabulary knocks my socks off. I feel smarter just being around him. Any question that I have about anything that is going on in the world he can answer me, and explain it to me. That is awesome. He is not afraid to complain and be pissed off about things. I know this is a weird characteristic to like, but it is the way I am too, not all rosy and cheery and everything is going to be great kind of thing, just normal, pissed to work so much, pissed when his phone rings. I like that. He likes good film, and he knows good film, which is even better. He respects old things. There are so many things that make me really happy, but what good is all of that when you cant see him, because he is tied up at work, or two exhausted from working 80 hours a week. What good is one morning of intimacy when I want to be there for spontaneous intimacy? What is the point of good sex when it just leaves me wanting more, and I cant even talk to him about how I feel. I know I like him more than he likes me, and for a while I was okay with that, but I feel like my feelings are going to explode and he is not being fair. Alcohol doesn’t help. I feel younger than him, I am younger than him, but not being in control of my emotions makes me feel especially young. So its over. I have erased him from my phone, completely even call logs and inboxes and outboxes.

I think it was my friend Bill who pointed out that you all(the guys I am friends with, and probably every single male ever) have mustache fetishes. That is all well and good, but mustaches can really have a sinister side.

Take for example this charity I found today.

It seems a little off that something like a charity for sick children, could so simply be turned into a former-Representative Foley's wet dream, by inserting the word "rides". Do it, tell me about it and I will promise to sponsor you.

I dont know about you, but I was under the impression that doctors, dentists and anyone else in the medical field for that matter are supposed to call you to confirm an appointment, and not the other way around. Maybe I am just used to my parents nice doctors growing up, but I know there were always messages on the answering machine, from the offices. In voices that pleasantly sound like they have never been outside, "Hi Laura, this is Dr. Talati's office calling just reminding you that you have your yearly std test tomorrow at 3:00pm." It was so nice, but now I am on my own shitty dental plan, where dentists who are late for your appointment call you and tell you sorry I was late, but I wasnt even sure we were having this appointment because you didnt confirm. Way to ruin my morning Dr. Khozien. I am mostly pissed bc I thought she was a good dentist, thorough and firm, she really made me floss. This could be worse that a break-up with my fake boyfriend, maybe worse because she even sent me a christmas card this year, which is weird because I think she is muslim, and I totally look jewish.

On the agenda, christmas shopping, two dentist appointments, an office christmas party, a neighborhood christmas party, cookie baking, lease signing, roommate meeting, so much work I cant breathe, Muscle management, bleeding, packing for home, packing for moving, finding a doctor(ASAP). I think there is some other stuff too, but frankly I am too overwhelmed to think of anything else right now.

There is a one armed construction worker, that is working on the building next door. He has got a big long beard, bad teeth and more flannel shirts than Joey Lawerence, I suspect.

I am moving, not sure exactly when but soon. We are going to live in Columbia Heights, or U Street, probably CH though. Some people call it ghetto, I call it progressive!-the El Salvadorian Harlem of the District. I am rather pumped.
But this post is not about the future roommates who share interest in such things as drinking mimosas, listening to David Bowie, and talking about hand jobs at the drive in. This post is actually about my soon to be former roommate, K-Dog, or the Republican Beavis. Republican-because I think he fantasizes about giving John McCain or my fake boyfriend hand-jobs in front of the drive-in theater playing fox news. Beavis (of the famed Beavis and Butthead)-because he has Beavis’s voice.
I share a bathroom with this Republican Beavis, which is really not so bad. He isn’t in it much and neither am I. To the best of my knowledge, he spends most of his time on the dirty couch with his shirt off watching the news media, spending his dirty lobbiest money at overrated restaurants, asking me opinions about girls that are clearly ditching him and being lazy.
It might be difficult to understand what exactly the Republican Beavis is really like. I’ll help you. Picture this some dude coming home a little drunk and talking about how his "uncle just hooked him up with box seats at the verizon center, where he and his buddies just spent the last 5 gluttonous hours chowing on shrimp cocktail and listening to the greatest band of all time”(He believes this to be U2, and that you agree with him on his musical judgment).

So today, I am enjoying the slacker attitude that drifts into the office(or maybe it is just me) on Fridays, and G-chatting with my preppy belt-peddling, car afficionado friend, FH Wadsworth. We were discussing the usual, the labor movement in industrialized England, world religions, Kant, Secondlife, etc., when I told him that I was excited to be going to a happy hour at the John Hopkins IR grad school (SAIS) tonight. I have such a weak spot for smart nerdy guys. This attraction is based on me getting off by fooling them into thinking I am smart. I do, its actually pretty easy, fain interest, question the source, and these guys are sold. Maybe its just because the last female they talked to had a unibrow and a body odor problem (oh wait I have those too). But wait I digress. The best thing was when frank said(paraphrasing), but I actually think you’re smart. Laura you are smart like Velcro is smart. Yeah, and Frank your smart, smart like Martha Stewart.