Here comes the snow, doo doo doo doo

On Thursday night, the convent held a Halloween party for underprivileged children in the area. (For those of you who aren’t up-to-date on my blog, the “convent” is the girls-only, dorm-like place where I live.) So, the library transformed into a haunted house, and we residents were given bowls of candy for the trick-or-treaters. Unfortunately, the bowls came with notes asking that leftover candy be returned at the end of the festivities.

Jackie and I nibbled on the candy while we waited for trick-or-treaters, and after some time, we heard a horrifically loud noise. It wasn’t the knock we were expecting but rather the fire alarm. After a moment of uncertainty – should we take the candy? – we began briskly walking toward the stairs, leaving the bowl of candy behind.

When we reached the lobby, we saw a thick fog … that was coming from a fog machine.

Thank goodness – this means our candy is okay.

We went back upstairs to wait, and finally, we heard a thousand knocks all at once. When we opened the door, we saw a zillion little faces. I decided to make an effort to remember each one, so I would be able to catch the sneaky child who tried to dupe us and come back for seconds.

But then the children were so cute and so polite. Each one greeted us with a big grin and a “Trick or treat,” and I felt bad for doubting them. I happily gave them candy and compliments on their costumes.

There were four groups of kids, and in the third group I saw a child with a giant pink flower on her forehead from the face painting downstairs. I told her it looked great, and she thanked me, smiling angelically.

The last group of kids knocked on the door soon after, and when we opened the door to greet them, I saw a giant pink flower among the sea of faces. My eyes zoomed in on the little brat, and when her turn came, I kindly told her she already had some and couldn’t have any more.

She looked at us, feigning confusion, then snatched some candy and raced down the hall.

Whatever. I guess I have no room to talk, as I had more than our fair share of candy, too.

Anyway, greedy children aside, it snowed on Saturday! I have a feeling my enthusiasm for snow won’t last long, but this time I appreciated it. For one, I was adequately dressed. (I’ve been dressing for snow since I stepped off the plane.) For two, I spent the day shopping.

When Jackie and I left the convent, the streets were empty. I concluded we’d be the only ones out and about in the dreary weather.

We soon found everyone at Target, though. I tried on tons of clothes and then bought only a box of envelopes. We hit Marshall’s next, where I found a cute sweater and some perfect picture frames for my office, thus accomplishing my main goal for the day.

After some browsing, Jackie found me in what I call the knick-knack aisles (picture frames, planners, stationary and other bare necessities). She told me she wanted to buy some artwork (also found in the knick-knack area). I told her to show it to me, and she said it was at the register on hold; we would have to come back for it later. Why? Because it’s pretty cumbersome, she said. She explained that with the bags we already had, we probably couldn’t manage it. I decided to gauge this for myself when I saw it at the register.

As we stood in line to check out – with thousands of other people, including a crazy man telling us we will go to hell if we don’t reproduce – I saw the painting. It was hard to miss, as it was roughly half the size of a billboard.

This will be so much fun to bring on the Metro.

We decided to finish our shopping first, and Filene’s Basement was next on our agenda. We stopped for lunch at a sandwich shop, where they had really impressive live music – so impressive Jackie felt compelled to ask the cashier for change for her $5 so she could give the guy a couple bucks.

I silently concluded that Jackie, with her admirable love for artwork and charity, would be broke by the end of the day.

As we neared Filene’s, it began to snow. I grabbed my mittens and headband from my purse and gazed at the snow like a child. Next to me, Jackie, a New York native, mumbled about how it shouldn’t be snowing in October and she needed to buy a new coat. She also said we would not be venturing back out for her artwork.

After a while, Jackie found a seat and waited for me to finish my shopping. As we left the store and headed to the Metro, I asked Jackie if she were sure she didn’t want to go back for her picture.

“What picture?”

I reminded Jackie of the little piece of art she decided back at Marshall’s that she couldn’t live without.

She said she didn’t want to go back, so we headed to the convent, where we stayed for the rest of the cold evening. After dinner, I did laundry and then we watched a movie with Magda, my former roommate. (I moved into a single room this weekend. Yay, it’s so cozy!)

I still haven’t decided what to do today, but when I do, you guys will be the first to know.

Thanks for reading.

Picture frame for the office! Yay!

B-A-N-A-N-A-S

So, this place where I live will now be referred to as the convent. This is because only girls live here, and we have to follow rules that make it convent-like.

Anyway, at the convent, we have girls from everywhere. My roommate is fluent in Polish, and I’ve met a girl working for the Austrian Embassy. So, this morning, I sat down for breakfast and started chatting with the girl across from me. Turns out, she is from Germany.

We continued talking for a bit, and in the middle of our conversation, another German girl walked up to say hi, and suddenly the conversation turned German. I barely even realized the smooth transition; I just suddenly realized I had no idea what they were saying. I figured it would be stupid to even pretend and nod along or something  – as I normally would in a conversation I am not following – so I simply turned my attention to my bagel and my coffee.

When I came home from work hours and hours later, I ate dinner with Jackie, a fellow American. I pointed out to her that we had apparently missed out on cake, as I saw someone nearby with a big slab of chocolaty deliciousness. See, dinner is from 5:30 to 7, and if you are in the later crowd, some of the food may have been gobbled up already. By the time Jackie and I got there, they were serving bananas for dessert.

Seriously? This s*** is bananas. B-A-N-A-N-A-S. (Gwen Stefani reference. Blame her for the obscenity.) My sweet tooth was not happy to see this.

A few minutes after my cake observation, Jackie said she now wanted dessert. She blamed this on me, and I happily offered to venture off for ice cream with her.

As we stood to leave, Jackie said she needed to run upstairs and grab her coat. When she came downstairs, she was wearing a coat, a hat and a scarf. She looked very bundled and warm, and I feared we were about to walk into a blizzard.

Instead, we walked into maybe 65-degree weather, and we looked ridiculous. (Especially Jackie, with the hat and all.)

I am just overly ready for the harsh cold that I know is ahead. I’m determined to stay warm at all times, and I’m willing to look ridiculous in the process.

Lastly, my eye has been twitching lately. What does that mean? Am I tired? Stressed? Cake-deprived? It’s bizarre. It makes the room look like it’s shaking. The first time it happened, I panicked. I thought it was an earthquake.

Not really, but I did freak out for a second.

I need to go to sleep now. 

Also, a bumper sticker from Facebook:

You're never fully dressed without a smile

I left work early on Friday to fly to Alabama for Andrew’s brother’s wedding. After unnecessarily power walking to the Metro station, I arrived at the airport really early. Then, to reward myself for three weeks of hard work, I bought an iced coffee and a bag of Famous Amos.

Cheers to the freakin’ weekend.

When I landed in Alabama, I called Andrew. He said he had just arrived at the airport, which surprised me. Andrew? On time? How unusual. He also had to drive six hours from Gulfport, so this made his timing even more impressive.

After a joyous reunion, I told Andrew to sit tight while I changed and freshened my makeup. Conveniently, Andrew now tells me the rehearsal dinner is at 6, not 7. Oops. He also requests that I put my makeup on in the car.

I remind him that I’m a diva and no, I cannot. I again request that he sit tight while I dart into the bathroom and quickly prepare myself to see his entire family.

After brushing off all the Famous Amos crumbs and applying powder, blush, eyeliner, eye shadow and mascara in five minutes, I run out of the bathroom, still sporting sweatpants with my nice red sweater.

We walk to the car, and I patiently wait while Andrew moves all of his crap from the passenger seat. (How long have we been planning today’s sequence of events?)

I wait until we hit the interstate before changing into my stockings and skirt, so that if someone sees me in my underwear, at least they won’t have time to get a good look. (Since my stockings were new, this costume change turned into a very long, stressful ordeal, during which I debated whether I could even squeeze myself into the Barbie-sized apparel. Meanwhile, Andrew is asking me to keep an eye out for Winchester Road and shouting about the need for more obvious street signs.)

By the time we reach the rehearsal dinner, I have managed to fully dress myself and put on some jewelry. I then sat through the rehearsal, freezing and smiling, wondering why Andrew forgot to mention it was an outdoor wedding. I made a mental note to wear layers to the ceremony the next day.

After the rehearsal, we headed inside for dinner. A few more of Andrew’s brothers arrived, including the only two I hadn’t met yet. (There are nine – seven boys, two girls.) Andrew and I walked up to the group, and I introduced myself … to one of the brothers I’d already met.

Me: Hey, I’m Sam!!

Michael: Uhh, yeah, I know. I’m Michael. You and Andrew stayed at my house once.

I laughed and said he looked like Peter in pictures I’d seen. (They all look alike!) I then berated myself for being such a moron. (I’M SUCH A MORON.)

We woke up at 9:30 the next day, because I wanted to eat the hotel breakfast that ended at 10. I made Andrew wake up with me, and we went downstairs to feast on bagels, waffles, chocolate muffins, etc. with his family. Andrew had to head to the wedding early, so I shopped with another Brennan girlfriend, Delores, in the afternoon.

Delores and I planned to ride to the wedding with some of the older Brennans, who weren’t in the wedding. They offered to knock on our door when it was time to leave, but as wedding time drew nearer, we still hadn’t heard a knock.

We headed to the lobby at 3:50. (The wedding is at 5 and about 30 minutes away.) We were told to be there at 4, but seeing as the lobby was empty and, after some research, realizing that all the Brennans had left the building, we concluded that wouldn’t be happening. So, we forgotten girlfriends asked the front desk call us a cab.

The wedding went wonderfully. I was appropriately layered, and I took many opportunities to sit inside and absorb the heat. My trip back was uneventful (aside from a few moments of panic over the size of my carry-on, which I resolved by removing a coat). I did make Andrew wake up and eat breakfast with me at 8 a.m. before dropping me off at the airport this morning. I then hurried off the plane, onto the Metro and power-walked back to my dorm, just so I could sit here on the computer. (I’m not sure why I feel the need to travel with such urgency.)

Anyway, I hope your weekend was panic-free and you didn’t reintroduce yourself to your boyfriend’s brother.

This is the mooorning report...

... Gives you the loooong and the short. (Name that tune.)

My current living arrangements provide me a cafeteria, which serves breakfast and dinner every day. I am one of the first people in the cafeteria every morning, because I go to work for 7 (because I am legit working person). For the past few weeks, I’ve eaten a bagel with cream cheese (and two cups of coffee) every day. You can find me in the cafeteria with said bagel and coffee at nearly the same time every morning, with my nose in a book and looking very sophisticated. (Basically, the cafeteria is my new Starbucks.)

This morning, however, I strayed from my routine. Why? Because the cafeteria had DOUGHNUTS. (DONUTS?) (DUNNO.)

I threw sophistication to the wind and quickly disregarded my faithful bagels, reaching instead for a big, fat chocolate covered doughnut, which I proceeded to eat excitedly and sloppily, spilling crumbs all over my pretty work outfit.

(Meryl, I had fro yo today. You know, for our fro yo blog.) (Also, I miss The Printz.)

A brilliant day

You know how when you go to a big city, you can always spot the tourists? You see people with cameras in hand, huffing and puffing it all over the place, maybe consulting a guidebook?

I think you see where I’m going with this. I am one of those people – maybe the worst of them all.

Even now that I live here, I spent the day being a tourist. I probably will never act like a local. For one thing, I know I’ll never cross the street without permission from the blinking light. Never, I tell you. Even in a few months, I guarantee you I’ll be waiting while the locals rush past me.

This morning, I went with my new friend Jackie and my old friend Shawn to visit the new Martin Luther King memorial. Last night, I suggested we start the day at 10 and as my alarm went off this morning, I hated myself. But, being the obnoxious tourist that I am, I persevered. I ate a big breakfast and hit the pavement (after waiting a few minutes for the walking light).

After MLK, we grabbed Subway and ate outside on this random island near the Washington Monument. It had a small memorial featuring signatures from those who signed the Constitution.

After Shawn left us, Jackie and I headed to the Smithsonian Natural History Museum, to meet up with all of the other tourists in D.C. On the way there, though, Jackie’s sandal broke.

We then took a detour to CVS hoping they sold flip-flops. When they failed us, we began walking to the H&M in Georgetown. (Poor Jackie is walking with only one shoe on.)

After one block, Jackie decided, since we were near a Metro station, we should just take the Metro home real quick. I cringed and told Jackie I couldn’t let her bare foot touch the ground in the Metro station.

Then, I had an epiphany. I remembered I had a ponytail holder in my purse. Surely, this would solve our problem. I suggested Jackie use it to hold her shoe on her foot until we got home.

Jackie wrapped the ponytail holder around her big toe and then the bottom of her shoe. When she stood back up, she was ecstatic. She said the makeshift shoe would certainly last the rest of the day.

I’m brilliant!

So, onward we marched. We headed to the Smithsonian Natural History Museum, and our shoes did indeed hang in there. Our legs, however, began to fail us.

As we dragged ourselves around the museum, we took every opportunity to sit for a second. We watched a little movie in nearly every section of the museum.

Then, when we were back outside, we were influenced by the pretty cloudless sky and the misconception that our walk home would pretty short, and we decided to walk home. Yay, let’s torture our legs some more! As soon as I got to my room, I called my mom back. Our conversation went more or less like this:

Sam: Hey Mom.

Mom: Hey Sam.

Sam: What?

Mom: Hello?

Sam: Mom?

Mom: Can you hear me now? Hello? Can you hear me?

Sam: No. It’s breaking up.

Mom: Move around a little.

Sam, walking in circles around my room on my aching legs: This is ridiculous.

Mom: I’ll go get in the car. Maybe that will help.

Sam: What?

And so on and so forth, with a little bit of actual conversation here and there, but not much.

Now, I’m stranded in the library, unable to move because my legs are in too much pain.

P.S. Does anyone remember this Full House episode – DJ calls a radio station to play “Name that Tune,” and the song is “Help Me Rhonda.” She whispers to Kimmy, “Help me, Gibler!” And the radio station is like, “Help me, what?” Then Uncle Jesse runs in the room and says, “Help Me, Rhonda!!!!”

I just listened to Help Me Rhonda, and now I really miss Full House.

Anyway, here are some pictures.

MLK.

John Hart signed the Constitution! That's my friend.

John Hancock, John Adams and Elbridge Gerry, whoever that is.

Albert's solo shot.

My hard-earned weekend

What better way to relax after a long week of work than an 8:30 a.m. game of Candyland?

My body has grown accustomed to waking up early, actually. My eyes popped open at 7 this morning and refused to close again. This is probably also because I have been going to bed every night at 10:30, tempted to fuss at my neighbors and demand that they keep that racket down.

I am so good at being a grown up.

My uncle picked me up yesterday morning, and when we got to Virginia, we went straight to Philip’s football game. As soon as I found my spot on the sidelines, a man walked up behind me and asked if I could tell him how to get to Mandeville. … I turned around and saw my dad.

Every time I visit my cousins now, I’m going to expect to see family members here to surprise me.

I have spent much of the weekend playing Thumb War. Philip’s thumbs are double-jointed so his Thumb War skills are quite exceptional. The games actually are quite challenging for me.

Another current fad for my cousins is calling things. As we drive somewhere, if you see a car you like, you simply call it. Then, as easy as that, it belongs to you and you may forever brag about the car you so proudly own in your imagination. (Although we usually forget within minutes what car we have just called. Instead, we move on and call new things.)

On the way home from church today, our calling got out of hand.

Philip: I call that haircut shop!

Zac: I call that bank!

Me: I call that statue!

Dad: I call that bulldozer!

Three-year-old Luke: I call that slingshot!!!!!

Slingshot? I don’t see a slingshot.

Philip: No, Luke, that’s a telephone wire.

Luke seemed equally pleased to call the telephone wire.

Today was Philip’s birthday party, which featured caramel apples, Capture the Flag, huge bumblebees and a piñata. After each kid took a few swings at the piñata, they drew some fascinating conclusions.

Kid #1: Man, I think this piñata is made of some kind of metal.

Kid #2, very wisely: It must be made of steel.

As the kids continued their futile swinging at the block of steel, I stayed on the sidelines, dodging bees.

Anyway, I go back to work on Tuesday. (I am eagerly awaiting my business cards!) I will probably spend this week as I spent the last – come home from work, eat dinner, sit in the library with my book and a hot chocolate and don't move until I’m ready for bed. It’s paradise, really.

For those of you who care, I’m reading American Wife by Curtis Sittenfeld. And I can’t stop. Please read it too, so we can discuss it.

My Internet situation should improve in the near future, so I will try to blog more. I really, truly apologize for any boredom I may have caused you.

Too late to apologize?

I'm sorry I've been neglecting my blog. The internet has been hard to come by lately. I only have access to decent internet at work, and I assume I shouldn't be blogging during work. I'll try to remedy this situation ASAP, and when I do, I'll have a long post for you. Until then, I'll be thinking of you, dear readers.