A Sad Note

I had such a fabulous weekend and what I felt sad about isn’t so much at the fore front of my mind anymore. I haven’t forgotten what happened but I’m no longer amazed by it and just realize that my idea of friendship is quite different then someone else’s. Before I begin I have to say there are always two sides to a story and this is my side.

Some of you who read this blog knew I was having an open house BBQ this past weekend to finally celebrate the grand opening of the patio chez Honest. A good friend of mine decided that she was going to come up from N.C. for the w/e and hang out, only problem was that I’d already booked my guest room she couldn’t stay with me as she normally does. I knew she had friends and family in the area so I wasn’t too worried and suggested that she should ask one of them to stay over. She’d expressed concern about drinking and driving and I offered up my room for the night of the bbq/party. I can’t mix her with a lot of people so her staying for the entire weekend wasn’t an option. The day before the party she changed her RSVP to maybe and IM’d me that although she was indeed coming up to DC she wasn’t sure if she would be able to make my party because she hadn’t set her plans for Saturday afternoon yet. I was a bit confused because I thought her plans for Saturday afternoon included my shin ding but realized that what she was telling me was that she was coming to my party if she didn’t find anything better to do. This from a former roommate, a friend I let stay on my couch of my studio apartment for over a month while she was doing an internship in D.C, this from a friend I’d been there for since 1996.

A mutual friend came to my party and mentioned seeing her for cocktails earlier that afternoon and mentioned that she was indeed coming to the party. The next morning I wake up and noticed that I have three missed calls from her which started at about 1:00 AM. We’d been partying since 4 PM and since we’re old now and the last person left my house at midnight I was knocked out and didn’t hear my phone ring. I called her back the next day and she sounded nonchalant and was shocked when I told her the party ended at midnight. When I told her I couldn’t believe she didn’t come to my party she gave me the excuse that she thought it wouldn’t end until 2 or so because the last time she hung out with some of the people that attended my party we left their house at 2AM (that was New Years and we didn’t get there until 11:30), she also used the excuse that my 30th birthday party ended late as well (btw she wasn’t there and just assumed it ended late). After I repeated several times that I couldn’t believe that she didn’t come to my party she kept saying she thought it was going to end after 1 or so and that she had dinner plans and then went to a movie. At first I found it extremely hard to believe that she came all the way up to D.C. and decided to wait until after midnight to show up to a BBQ that started at 4 of her supposed road dawg. It’s not worth analyzing but I did wonder for a second why she’d go through such lengths? To prove a point? To teach me a lesson? I have no clue but what I do know is that despite the obvious attempt at a snub I had a “perfect” weekend and a drama free one.

A Day Off

Where do I start? I had such a fabulous weekend and was finally able to fully enjoy my backyard. My weekend consisted of hosting O and XXXXXX, BBQ’s, lying by the pool, Margaritas, Strippers, grilled corn and amazing guacamole. By the way I make amazing guacamole and good kebabs. I had such a fun filled weekend that I can’t believe my day off is over in a few hours and I have to get back to work. Unfortunately there was a sad note to the weekend but I don’t want to ruin this wonderful weekend and will blog about it later this week.

Conspiracy?!?!

Early Sunday morning I woke up and started a crazed day of running errands and cleaning my house. At 8:30AM I sat on my office/guest room floor and shredded pesky marketing mailers and a gazillion offers to ruin my credit. Through paper jams and plain “it just ain’t working” moments I finally shredded the mound of paper under my desk. As I sat there on the floor for an hour and a half I bitched and moaned and generally complained to myself about the need to even shred your mail particularly credit card offers.

Identity theft is real, hell despite money making industry identity theft protection has been I know companies that offer those services are just capitalizing on a growing fear of inconvenience and lost money. So I need someone from a company or industry to blame and it hit me as I waited for my overheated shredder to cool down that the credit card companies are in bed with the companies that make shredders. I’ve been through two shredders in less then 4 years from all that damm mail I get. Clearly I’m not interested in any of the credit card offers I get almost everyday from the SAME credit card company but I realized that the more I get, the more I shred and therefore the more shredders I’ll end up having to buy.

If there’s someone in charge of those credit card offers in the mail and someone who works for a company that manufactures shredders reading this, just know I have my eye on you and your capitalist ways. I SEE YOU!

The Yard Project

For the price of a grilled chicken sandwich meal from Checkers and a pitcher of britta filtered water my friend hooked up my backyard flower beds. I did pay for the "stuff" but I didn't have to do much but help occasionally.

Before












After













Now I just have to get my house clean in time for my BBQ next weekend.

So I Cheated

I didn’t want to but I didn’t have a choice. It had been 9 weeks since my last relaxer and I was desperate. I like my regular hairdresser really I do but I’ve had enough. Enough of the inability to fit within MY schedule, the constant rescheduling, and I was sick and tired of not being seated in the “chair” until almost an hour plus after my appointment time. I started going to my hairdresser in October of 2002 after staying up until 6 AM trying to remove my micro braids on my own. Although I’d hacked off patches of hair in sheer frustration when I was removing my braids, she managed to bring my hair back to life and to it’s healthiest state since I started relaxing my hair.

In October of 2004 I cheated for a few months after my patience with the constant overbooking wore thin only to return crawling back after my hair started breaking. Well I cheated again on Monday mainly because I knew I couldn’t wait until “she” was ready to see me. I went to a new salon and within 15 minutes of my appointment was seated in the chair and 2 and ½ hours later I had a new do. The results weren’t as great as with my regular lady but I had a nice trim and I wasn’t frustrated from sitting there waiting with other overbooked clients. Will I cheat again? Probably I’m going to give this place another try to make sure the timing wasn’t a fluke and hopefully they’ll learn a bit more about my hair and things will work out fine. I’m tired of driving all the way to suburban MD and waiting and waiting and waiting just for a hairdresser appointment.

I always say “never let a straight man do your hair” – Do others feel that way?

Quick Update

I just returned home and I'm crazed. I haven't been able to read all of my blogroll nor have I had time to even put together a proper post. I have lots of ideas just no time to put them down on the blog in a coherent fashion.

I might post something tonight or tomorrow. In the meantime I'm trying to catch up on my life and trying to figure out how to move to London for a year and get paid in pounds.

My Cheers

For the last three weekends I’ve gone to this little bar in Arm.enia called Texas Bar both Friday and Saturday nights. Imagine a Saloon in the middle of some Podunk town in Texas and there you’ll have Texas Bar, on a downtown street in Yere.van, Arm.enia, in the middle of the Caucasus, 500 miles from Baghdad, within spitting distance of the Iranian border.

The wood benches, the peanut shells on the floor, the dried tobacco leaves adorning the ceiling, pictures of BB King smoking a cigar, an old Texas license plate and the friendly wait staff make for an inviting atmosphere. The music is loud and good ranging from blues, to country, to swing, to Latin pop and the occasional pulp fiction soundtrack. The waitresses dance with the patrons in between orders for local draft beer, vodka shots, espresso and my favorite drink, the Vodka Tonic. I guess folks should drink Jack Daniels but despite the music and our surroundings we’re still in Yer.evan and Vodka or Beer is king.

There’s just something about this place that draws me back every weekend night and sometimes during the week. I don’t think I’d go to a place like that in D.C. so maybe it’s the company there, friendly people, a colleague and some cool Arme.nians I’ve met during my frequent trips here. Whatever it is about this place, time stands still. You walk in at 11 PM and next thing you know you’ve danced up a storm and they’re starting to shoo people out because it’s 4 AM.

I’m heading home next Friday and one thing I know I'll miss is my Cheers.