on that note...

PERHAPS ONE OF THE FUNNIEST THINGS MISSMO HAS EVER SAID

Dude who once ripped my heart out of my chest, threw it on the floor, and then stomped on it (but I'm not bitter): So, have either of you girls ever had sex with a black guy?

Missmo (damn, she's quick): Yeah!!! And actually, we made movies and posted them on the internet. You can find them and double u double u dot i'm a racist prick dot com.
My friends are so damn witty, they put me to shame.

an ode to my roommate

SHE'S SO FUNNY SOMETIIMES I JUST CAN'T TAKE IT

I was going to hold off on this blog until I had a longer list of funny things that she has said, but here are just a few. As you are reading these, please keep in mind that she has a very strong South Carolina accent.

1. I didn't come here to fuck around with no yogurt. (At the National Barbeque Cookoff in downtown DC this past weekend, in response to a woman offering free samples of yogurt.)

2. Me (to an unintersting man at the bar): My my cousin [whatever I decided her name was for the night]. She has her Ph.D. in feminist studies from Yale.
Jane: Uh-huh. I hate bras!

3. Whooooo!!!! Yeah!!!! Whatever he said!!!! (Holding her beer up, in response to something somebody at the bar said which elicited a round of cheers from a group of men sitting at the bar but had nothing to do with us.)

4. Wy-yyyyy? (Supposed to be "why?" but always two syllables whenever she says it.)

CHOCOLATE, ANYONE?

How about a honey truffle with a piece of real 24-karat gold on top?

No? How about a lavander truffle, then, with real organic lavendar buds on top?

Oh, you don't like that? How about chocolate covered passion fruit-infused caramel? Or how about you just dip your spoon in the caramel?

What about a coffe-rum truffle that contains a whole shot of rum and a hazel nut on top?

Chocolate covered peanut bark? Anyone? How about for breakfast?

We have finally reached the point in our relationship where I am allowed to help garnish the truffles that she makes in our very own kitchen. Last night, whilst jamming out to the O Brother Where Art Thou soundtrack and Michale Buble jams, I was allowed to put the little pieces of gold on the honey truffles. Then I got to sprinkle the lavander truffles with the real lavander. Then, I got to put the hazelnuts on the coffee rum ones. It was so fun. Then I got to eat them. The lavander ones are my favorite. Very unique.

So much for dropping 15 pounds by the end of summer...

NOTE TO JANE: LEAVING ME HOME ALONE ALL DAY WITH ALL SORTS OF CHOCOLATE TRUFFLES = NOT A GOOD IDEA.

to the wretched couple on the train tonight who would not stop caressing each other's heads

Did it ever occur to you that perhaps that type of behavior is inappropriate in a metro car full of people who may or may not have had their heads carressed in a very long time? I mean, we get it. You love each other, you have a great and loving relationship, etcetera, etcetera. However, the next time the two of you have the overwhelming urge to rub each other's heads and blow kisses at each other (even though you're less than a foot apart from each other) all the way from Foggy Bottom to Eastern Market, remember that it is quite possible that the closest thing to intimacy that the girl sitting behind you has had lately is a dude who started trying to grope her boobs after being alone with her for a total of five seconds, then dropped her off in the hood in the middle of the night and left without making sure she even got in the house. And then PLEASE refrain from behaving in such a manner as to make her want to grab both of you by your necks and throw you off the train.

Also, I saw you scratch your head and then eat the dead skin under your fingernail, lady.

not so funny anymore

So my roommate and I have succeeded in totally confusing the crap out of poor Dougie. All my regular readers will recall that one week ago, I was very proud of my brown-nosed wussy dog and his territorial barking and growling. Within the past week, however, Jane and I have had to modify this behavior.

I mean, is it really too much to ask for a dog to be able to differentiate threatening from non-threatening? Big, 250-pound man in a black hoodie - threatening. Small, pig-tailed girl in a school uniform and pink barettes - non-threatening. Skinny, disheveled crackhead woman - moderately threatening. Tiny old woman in a moo-moo blatently struggling to take the few arthritic steps past our house - soooo not threatening. However, it appears that he doesn't understand this.

So we started by letting him bark at the threatening and screaming at him to "GET ON THE PORCH!!! SIT DOWN!!! STAY RIGHT THERE!!!" when the non-threatening walk by. Didn't take. You could tell that he would get so excited at the opportunity to reduce small children to tears that he couldn't even control himself. So now we have to scream at him every time anyone walks by, including the threatening. Finally, today, he seems to get it. Even a stary cat went by, and I could tell he so wanted to kill it, but he sat patiently on the porch, his jaw moving up and down as if he were barking, but trying very hard (and succesfully) not to let anything out.

On a side note, I fucking love that boy. The other day, the three of us were sitting outside, and I got up to get in my car and drive down the street to the little coffee shop. Dougie ran up to the fence and watched me walk to my car with the saddest little look on his face, eyebrows all slanted upwards and I swear I saw tears gathering in those little brown eyes. I yelled at him to get in the house with Jane, but he just stood there like "NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Please don't GOOOOOOOO!!!" Even as I was driving away, I saw him standing there at the fence, the same pitiful look on his face ("nooooooooooo!!! please!!!!"). Awwww....he's like my small toddler. I don't know how I made it before he came in my life.

wwhen the beat drops, i just can't help myself

One of my favorite parts of my new-found city girlhood is putting on my I-Pod, making the little-less-than-a-mile trek down to the metro, and catching the metro down to my barbri class. The walk is really a great way to start the day, not to mention really good exercise.

There's only one small problem. Anyone who knows me knows that I looooove to dance. At the club, at the bar, in my room, in the car...wherever there is a good beat. So, as you can imagine, I have an extremely difficult time containing myself when my little I-Pod Shuffle picks something really good for me.

Example - sitting on the metro, and all of the sudden "Vivrant Thang" by Q-Tip comes on. It's all I can do to prevent myself from jumping up, grabbing one of those poles that people hang on to when there's no place to sit, and twerking it all over the metro. Or, walking down F Street and "It's Goin' Down" by Young Joc starts playing. I'm able to contain myself somewhat, but if one were to observe me very closely, he or she would notice that one shoulder shrugs ever so slightly three times, and then the other.

I mean, even my rock jams get me going. I have to lip sing Led Zep's "The Ocean" when it comes on, because belting out "Used to sing to the mountains/But the mountains washed away," in that high-pitched Robert Plant voice on the metro may make me look a little crazy. However, just yesterday, walking up 7th, I couldn't help myself. I didn't think anyone was around, so I busted out with "Biggie Biggie Smalls is the illest!" To my dismay, I looked behind me and there was a yuppie looking dude looking at me like I had lost it.

And nothing's better than standing on the metro escalator, ascending back into the world, with Dave Matthews telling me that "When I step into the light, my arms are open wide."
Being a city girl is so great.

DC is awesome, but barbri SUCKS

I have now been an official Washingtonian for an entire week. Here are the highlights of the past week:
- I got a gig waitressing at a nice little joint on the Hill. The staff is so fun and already I've made a few friends there. So far, it's been a pretty cool crowd that comes in and I've met a few interesting folks so far. It's gonna be a fun summer there, I can tell already.
- I started studying for the bar. Sucks. I'm supposed to be studying 6 to 9 hours a day after my four hour classes, but I can't stand it. Secured transactions, commercial paper - who gives a shit?!?!?!? I'm supposed to be studying now, 12:30 on a Friday night in DC. Instead I'm blogging. Productive, I know. The good news is there's no DC law on the DC bar. Instead, it's all multi-state general law. Phew.
- Douglas is adjusting to city life very well. He has realized that the tiny little front yard is part of HIS territory and, accordingly, is terrorizing the neighborhood by barking and growling at anyone who has the nerve to walk by on the sidewalk. It's actually pretty funny.
- I have mastered the metro in less than a week. My commute to my bar classes is an hour and a half. I could probably get there quicker by driving, but I'm still afraid to drive in DC. I have ventured down to Arlington twice so far to hit up Target, and both times I missed the exit on the way home and ended up in Maryland or a potentially dangerous part of DC. However, since I still don't have any idea where I am at any given point in time, everywhere in DC is potentially dangerous.
- My roommate is awesome. She's been really good about showing me around, and what's more, she loves Dougie. It's cool because I haven't been around much between work and the bar, and she's been taking him for walks and even picking up his shit outside. She rocks!!! Also, she makes home made chocolate. She's awesome.
- I hooked up with my beautiful Julia Gulia last weekend and we hit my fave DC spot, Madam's Organ. It was a lot of fun. We were supposed to maybe go dancing this weekend but OH yeah!!! I have to study for the bar exam! Still haven't seen D but promised a happy hour next week.
- They play my fave dancehall reggae jams on the radio here.
- I can see the capitol while driving down the street.
- On Memorial Day, I put on my navy sundress with white polka dots and took myself out to breakfast at a little sidewalk cafe before catching the metro down to Arlington National Cemetary where I walked around looking so cute and eyeing the hottie Marines in their dress uniforms and paying my respects when I bumped into none other than Donald Rumsfeld. No shit. I was close enough to touch him. This one dude was like "you can get a picture with him," and I was like "I don't want a picture with him." I took a video though, because I didn't think my friends from home would believe me.
- I miss Florida, but not too much yet. DC is just so fucking cool, and hot enough to be Florida. I miss my mama, though, and my missmo and all my Florida friends. I miss them tons. I wish they could all move up here. But not til late July when I'm done with the bar.