Crack in a Bag

Yes, my friends this is crack in a bag. When I went up to NYC last weekend my mom had two bags on the kitchen counter. I finished one in 5 minutes and the other in the car on my way back to D.C. This is seriously crack in a bag and although I don’t promote addiction, if you have an opportunity try one or two. The only thing that may suffer is your waist line.

Rockland Drama Part 2

STOP

If you haven’t read part 1 then check it out here before reading this post.

For those who read part 1, here is the background story:

The mother of the bride asked her daughter, to ask the father of the bride to tell his wife that she was not welcome at the wedding. The mother of the bride gave these instructions the day before the wedding. The Stepmother’s son was a groomsmen in the wedding, she helped (via her husbands money, because his money is also her money, pay for the wedding), when my mom and another friend asked the Stepmother if she was going to the wedding back in July she said yes of course, I’m buying a new dress and everything.

27 years ago, the father of the bride met the stepmother at her cousin’s house when she just arrived in the US, they fell in love. He knew he was married and had a one year old daughter and stepson at home, she knew he was married and had a one year old daughter and stepson at home. He announced to his wife that he was leaving, divorced the ex wife and married the new wife. The ex wife just lost husband number two to divorce and was livid. So livid that my mom, when asked just shakes her head and says it was such a messy, messy divorce.

The father of the bride made sure he was as involved in his daughter’s life as much as he could with every other weekends and two weeks during the summer. In fact growing up I resented my father and his actions after my parents divorced because I had a daily example of what it really meant to be a father who doesn’t live with his child (the father of the bride and stepmother live in the building I grew up in). According to the grown folks (my mom and her friends) the stepmother didn’t try to raise the stepdaughter and kept her distance when she visited. Growing up the daughter and the stepdaughter had a bearable relationship but not a close one.

On the wedding day the father of the bride was sad and at first I thought it was because he was about to give away his only daughter until I realized that his wife of 27 years was not in attendance.

Now that you’ve received more details (albeit third hand) does this change the answer you gave in Part 1?

Rockland Drama Part 1

I went to a beautiful wedding in Rockland county (upstate NY) this weekend and am a bit bummed that I didn’t have time to call some NYC bloggers or even see one of my best friends. I’ve learned a few lessons this weekend though, one of which is to read driving directions very carefully. However, on a good note, we ended up on the scenic route to the wedding.

Unfortunately the weekend wasn’t as tranquil as the surroundings would lead one to believe. Without going into details at this time, what would you do if your ex husband’s wife planned on going to your daughter’s wedding. Would you ask her not to attend?

I’ll wait a day for some answers before posting the behind the scenes story.

What To Do?

I’ve been chanting “better countries” for the last year regarding my work assignments. There are better countries out there waiting for a competent project manager among my team’s portfolio. Unfortunately those projects aren’t under my bosses’ leadership and around here folks have to look out for their own sub team members first, so I have a choice to make. Say no to an opportunity in Kiev and take my changes with not being 100% billable or say yes to Kiev and grumble with secured billability and employment. Kiev isn’t too far from Yerevan so maybe that would work.

At least the Kiev opportunity doesn’t start until the new year so I can hold on to my “no more work travel for ’06” stance.

Did You Know

Did you know that Kung Fu moves were based on the Praying Mantis’ fighting moves? That Lions will kill the cubs of a pride once they’ve taken over the pride because the Lionesses won’t be ready to mate if they have young cubs. That left alone without human contact dogs will revert into pack form.

That I’m suddenly more obsessed with Grey’s Anatomy then I was last season. I watched most of the second season but never saw the first season, which I watched in its entirety this weekend. I’ve put the episodes of Season 2 that I missed on my net flick list and my TIVO is holding episode 1 of season 3. I can’t wait to get home on Friday, have some take out Ethiopian and watch it. I’m so obsessed and anxious for more that I’m watching clips from season 2 on youtube. Isn’t that website great, just nifty.

That my taste buds have changed since I was a kid. I know most adults go through this, but I’m finally analyzing how different my taste buds are now. For example, today I shared a mixed salad plate with a colleague and ate raw cabbage. When I was a kid I never went anywhere near cabbage, cooked or raw. Now I’m even using it in meals I make at home. Spinach is another vegetable I never ate as a child. Now, I absolutely love, love spinach; sautéed with garlic and I’m in heaven. I didn’t start eating spinach until about 10 years ago. My mom never forced me to eat something I didn’t like so I’m gradually re discovering foods that I didn’t like as a child and this re discovery period called adulthood is excellent. I still hate carrots though. I wish I didn’t, because everyone says they’re a great snack but I can’t knowingly eat something that tastes like poison to me.

That I’ve always wanted to hug a monkey, well a Chimp to be precise. I watch all these animal planet shows where the zookeepers are hugging and playing with Chimps and I want too also. I don’t know why but I’ve always been fascinated with hugging cuddly looking animals. This is me after elbowing little kids out of the way at the San Diego Petting Zoo.

I guess I just need to make sure I don’t drink 4 beers before doing so like this dude.

That I’m only human and can be critical, selfish, the best friend you can have, easily annoyed and equally laidback.

Needs a Good Home

This is Mimi and she’s a three year old pure breed Rottie who needs a good home.


Her owner adopted her from the shelter a few years ago but now realizes that she cannot financially support the two dogs and numerous other pets she has. I’ve never met Mimi but a good friend of mine has and would readily adopt her if she didn’t already have two dogs and live in a one bedroom apartment. I’m seriously thinking of adopting her but my two cats are already neglected and with my travel and work schedule I don’t think I could give Mimi the love and attention she deserved. She gets along well with other dogs and cats and would love to be adopted by someone who would spoil her. If you know of anyone who is looking to adopt a pet send me an email at thisismehonest at gmail dot com.

I’ve been working all weekend on the final report for this project and am slowly going crazy. Hopefully everyone will have their sections to me by tomorrow morning so I can review, edit, send it off to someone else for more edits and feedback and can deliver it to the client by Thursday afternoon. I’m catching a plane back home on Friday and there’s no way I’m postponing my return flight home.

How It All Started

Last week I took an Indian cooking class at a local culinary shop and had such a great time. I’ve wanted to take a cooking class there for such a long time and managed to find a spot at one of the Indian cooking sessions. I love Indian food and am excited to get started with some of the techniques I’ve learned and the huge cookbook I bought. When I get back home (yes I am on another trip) I’m heading to a local Indian grocery store to buy all the spices I need.

I remember when I was maybe 11 or 12 I went to my first Indian restaurant with my dad. When I was about 10 my dad and stepmother moved to N.C. and I would go and visit them during the summer. My dad would drive up to NYC hang out for a few days with friends and family and we’d drive down to NC together. As a child and even more so as an adult when there was a plan in motion I wanted it executed with little to no deviation. Unfortunately my dad is not one to follow a plan or a schedule. This has been the basis for many fights until I realized that I couldn’t drill in a sense of time or respect for other people’s time into a grown man and learned to play the game to my advantage. As usual we’d scheduled to leave early in the morning and I was anxious to leave to just get there. I would have thought my dad would be also since he had to drive for 9 hours straight, but my dad’s lack of timing meant that we were still doing “one last thing” around lunch time.

Once he ran his last errand I kept pushing to get on the road and thought a quick lunch at McDonalds was all we needed. My dad who would rather starve then eat McDonalds wasn’t having it and insisted we sit down for a proper lunch at an Indian Restaurant in Manhattan’s East Village. I sulked and swore under my breath and went along with him to the restaurant. It was my first Indian meal and it was one of the best meals I’ve ever had. I remember eating succulent Tandorri Chicken, fluffy basmati rice and warm Nan and have been hooked ever since. I’m going to remind my dad of this story and next time he’s in D.C. “I’m making him full Punjabi dinner”(line from Bend it like Beckham).

Catching Up

I know I’ve neglected this blog and haven’t posted as often as I should. I do have a lot of topics flowing around in my head but as I think of them while I’m driving to and from work (I have plenty of time to think during my commute) I think out how I would write the post and promptly forget it the moment I’m in front of a computer.

London – Was fabulous by the way. The place is horribly expensive but wouldn’t be if the dollar/pound exchange rate was on equal footing. I know it hasn’t been in ages but 10 years ago when I went there for the first time it was a bit more reasonable 1.50 pound to the dollar instead of the 1.99999 to the dollar it currently is. Either way that place is just fabulous, and vibrant and full of life despite their typical gloomy weather. The question I should really ask myself about the weekend is: How many bottles of wine can two people drink in one weekend and I believe I lost count. What I love about Europe is that you can buy a good bottle of wine at a restaurant (despite the exchange rate) and it doesn’t cost an arm and a leg. Either way make sure you drink every last drop because as my girl Jonelle said before we left a pub near her house: “I know when my next meal will be but you never know when you’ll get your next drink” or something like that. I’d just drank a ½ pint of Guinness and shared a bottle of wine with her so I think that’s what she said.

While Jonelle was running her errands on Friday I hung out at the London Zoo and walked around town. The weather was really lovely and I just wanted to take in the sights, sounds and smells of London. I stopped in for a Bacon Sandwich (I know not on the diet but when in London) with brown sauce. They are soooooo good it’s ridiculous. Not sure if it’s the cut of bacon they’re using or if it’s that brown sauce (not sure what’s in it, maybe crack) but it’s sooo damm good. Saturday we went down to Brighton so we could see the sea. I’ve never been outside of London so it was cool to see another town. The streets were so quaint and after hitting up this Soul Food Restaurant where the food was on point. We ended up walking up to the rock beach (no sand at this place) and lying down on the rocks and taking a nap. The itis was that bad that I ended up sleeping comfortably on some rocks!

We went back to London that evening and went out with a friend of Jonelle’s and had a great time chillin’. On our way back to Jonelle’s we stopped by a bar in her neighborhood that plays hip hop and it always amazes me how hip hop has spread all over the world and not just the booty shaking stuff but some good stuff.

I left the next morning for D.C and am home until Tuesday when I get on yet another plane for what I am praying is my last work trip of 2006.

So I Voted

Today I voted in DC’s primary elections and am glad I got my vote on. I wont’ tell you who I voted for but I will say this. Whoever I voted for BETTER and I mean it, BETTER think about my interests. Getting rid of Ray Ray n ‘em from around my block, knocking down Hechinger mall and putting in a Whole Foods, Target, Pet smart, Barnes and Noble, and Ethiopian restaurant. That is not a lot to ask for and I believe this will bring money to the neighborhood and make it more vibrant. More retail (NO MORE ATHLETIC FOOT WEAR STORES) will also mean people like “moi” won’t continue spending our hard earned consumer cash in VA or MD.

I had an early morning conference call so I didn’t get to the polling site (a block from my house) until 9 and there weren’t any lines. There were however a gazillion supporters all wanting to give you a flyer with their preferred candidate’s position. I had to decline all of them; I read up on all the positions online and don’t need any additional paper at home. I’ve been home since Sunday night and haven’t even touched the months worth of mail I have sitting on my entryway table.

I think the voting process in DC needs a complete overhaul. There HAS got to be a better way. Wasn’t there a promise to revise the ballots and voting process after the 2000 election?

Step 1: Wait on line based on the first letter of your last name.
Step 2: Tell person with big binder your last name and wait 5 minutes as he tries to find “Honest’s Last name”.
Step 3: Refuse to let person butcher first name so after a while he gives up and says ok whatever sign here.
Step 4: Let him know my party affiliation and sign a separate card.
Step 5: Go to another line give person signed party affiliation card and voting preference (paper ballot or touch key).

Side Note: Have you seen those paper ballets? Way too confusing.

Step 6: Wait for the only touch key machine in the entire building! WTF?!!?
Step 7: Vote and collect my “I Voted” Sticker

All Things British

Last week I watched the entire first and second season of BBC’s The Office. You know the original the Office that was recently remade into an American sitcom. I haven’t watched the American version due to my numerous L&O and Food Network obsessions, there’s no time for new shows. Since I’ve been here without any L&O and Food Network, I’ve divided my TV viewing time between Animal Planet, BBC News and the Office Season 1 and 2 DVD’s I borrowed from a colleague here. I watched the first half of an episode and was pretty disgusted. Uhh I thought what a freaking ass the lead character was, I’d pretty much resigned myself to not watching it until the cable service in my apartment went out one night and I had nothing else to watch.

I’m so glad I was forced to go back and watch it because the show is hilarious. Sad, dumb even but hilarious! I’m now adding the additional seasons to my net flick list. Some British comedies leave me wondering WTF was so funny but the Office and Coupling are just extra hilarious in my opinion. Or maybe it’s because I’ve quickly grown to love all things British, except the pound/dollar exchange rate.

Tomorrow morning I’m heading to London to spend a few days hanging out with my girl J and I can’t wait to get there. Despite being unprepared for the weather, (It was still in the 80/90’s in DC when I left and it’s been about 100 degrees in Yerevan) it’s going to be a blast!

Language of Love?

Friday night I spent a few hours hanging out at my favorite bar here and met the boyfriend of one of the old waitresses. I remember her from my last trip here in May because I spent a great deal of time hanging out at this bar. I also remember that she barely spoke any English. She knew enough to say hello and when she waited on my friend and I, she used that international “want a drink” hand signal and I have mastered the way to order my signature drink in the former Soviet Union: Vooodka (using the O instead of ah sound) and Tonik (using the O instead of ah sound) so ordering was pretty easy.

The waitress is bilingual, Armenian and Russian and her boyfriend is also bilingual, French and English. Head tilt: I know she speaks like 10 words of English and he speaks 5 words of Armenian. How do they communicate you ask? I have no idea. According to some Armenian friends they don’t need to, they speak the language of love. I’ve had a few days to think about this and it still boggles my mind. Some couples have communication issues when they both have the same mother tongue so I can’t even imagine what it’s like to be in a relationship with someone I can’t understand and who doesn’t understand me.

This reminded me of someone I used to work with. He was Mexican and his wife was Turkish but they both spoke English fluently. I often wondered what they spoke to each other during arguments. Although they were both also learning each other’s respective languages I wondered when it came time for arguments how they coped. I speak French pretty fluently but when I was a child I was even more fluent since I spent so much time with non English speaking family members. However, when I was a kid and my cousin and I argued which was often we would argue in French but I would get so frustrated that I would automatically revert to English when I wanted to make a point. So I always wonder when arguments get to a boiling point and each party is feeling frustrated do they revert back to their mother tongue.

The Ring

I’m in a boxing ring, both a referee and a coach, caught between a rock and a hard place. The warring factions: the recipient client, funding client, and the boss. Being yelled at as I enforce the rules. The fans wanting to have their say. None of them understand each other and I don’t think they’re willing too actually. As I talk and cajole, ask them to view each others side, to make some headway I feel the weights getting heavier on my shoulders.

Today for a few minutes I longed for a 9 to 5 job one where I turned on my computer at 9:01 AM and turned it off at 4:59 PM without worrying about the work until the next day at 9:01 AM. That isn’t really what I want but these last few weeks have really tested my patience. It’s hard but so is life. This is what I want to do, it’s challenging but I wonder how much challenge can my shoulders bear. I’ve wanted to do this for as long as I can remember so I’m living my dream right? Maybe it isn’t the subject of the battle that’s weighing me down. Tax Administration, uh uhhhh! Maybe I shouldn’t be thinking only of better countries but of better subjects.

Oh So Livid!

It’s Friday, my day started out well, I was looking forward to attending a dinner party at a colleague’s apartment then off to hang out at my favorite bar here in Yerevan. All of a sudden I became livid about something I saw online.

Mwen te telment fache. Pou ki sa ou vle tande? Parceque geyen ou neg qui mwen te amoureux avec qui pa te remain mwen meme facon. Mwen decouvrit que neg la mette un profile sur l’internet la ak ou photo qui te pren la cay mwen. Merde. Get maman li.

After about 10 minutes of being pissed at what I saw I became pissed at myself for being pissed and for being so damn dumb. Have you ever been pissed at your own actions and/or feelings after you had a chance to really think things through. Uhhhh!

So as I sit fuming at myself then I get a “backhand to the face” kind of email from our client. It wasn’t so much the “NO” I received in the email but the “I wish you would spend as much time doing x,y,z as you do a,b,c”. Eyeroll. I could feel my blood boiling as I read the email and decided to close the window and respond on Monday. I’m not going to deal with it this weekend, either issue. I’m going to enjoy the weekend hit a few of my favorite restaurants in Yerevan and enjoy life.

Have a great and fabulous weekend!

The Case of the Stalker

Friday August 18th

Stalker: Hey Ladies
Us: Hey
Stalker: Ladies where are you from? Amerika?
Us: Yes
Stalker: Where you from in Amerika? Kansas, Nebraska?
Me: (Giving him a are you fucking kidding me eye. sorry square state people). We’re from D.C
Stalker: ah I want to go to Amerika, I want to go to Miami, I like Miami.
Me: (Eyeing his flower shirt, white pants and pointy white shoes) Well you’re certainly dressed for Miami.
Stalker: Where are you guys going?
Me: We’re meeting friends for drinks.
Stalker: Can I join you?
Me: uh no I don’t think so.
Stalker: Can I get your number?
Me: (frowning there’s something off about this dude) Uh no that’s not a good idea. Ok bye.
Stalker: ok bye.

My colleague and I walk into my favorite bar in Yerevan and meet up with some locals I’ve gotten to know on some of my trips here. After sitting down I look up and The Stalker has entered the bar. Luckily for us they don’t let random dudes in the place unless someone working or a regular patron can vouch for them and dude was eventually asked to leave. Fast forward about an hour and a half and my colleague and I are ready to head back to the hotel but who do we spot standing next to a tree across the street, pants glowing? The mufucking Stalker.

My first thought was ah I wish a mufucker would! I will get Brooklyn and cause an international incident. Common sense prevailed and my female colleague and I quickly hopped into a cab back to the hotel.

Saturday August 19th

My colleague and I are walking back to the hotel after hanging out at my favorite bar and spots a florist. (Corner Florist are open 24/7 here) She wants to buy a rose but the guy buying his girlfriend flowers insists on buying us one. We say thank you and we’re on our way. Half way back I notice a guy suddenly start walking slightly behind us. Me I don’t trust when someone suddenly starts walking near me in the wee hours of the morning. My colleague notices also and we cross the street. Dude continues walking in pace with us and for me that’s unusual. First people here walk very slowly, like they never have any place to be kind of slow and we were booking cause it was the wee hours of the morning. So finally I point out a bar that I went to once last year that had great music but was considered a gay bar. After noticing that the dude stopped when we stopped we ducked into the bar for a quick second. When we came back out 5 minutes later he was gone but we ran into the flower purchaser, his girlfriend and her brother who insisted that we go out for beers with them. It was 2:30 AM but after a while we both accepted and had a great conversation with them about life, Armenia, and the US over Red Bavaria brew which btw is quite delicious.

I've Got Nothing

I had a couple of blog topics floating around in my head during my flight from DC to London to Yerevan but I can’t seem to develop anything but a sentence or two with each. My flight was un eventful which is probably a good thing. The security check lines both at Dulles and the transfer terminals at Heathrow weren’t long and my luggage arrived at the same time that I did. I was able to take my books, laptop and some electronic stuff with me on board so thank god I didn’t have to pull my hair out due to boredom. All in all pretty un eventful.

The weirdest feeling was not having my lip balm or hand lotion with me. I never realized how much I relied on those things until I didn’t have them for 17 hours.

I’m here for three weeks so I’m sure I’ll have something blog worthy soon, hopefully. I’m exhausted and am looking forward to this weekend so I can sleep.

I've Got the Blues..

And I’m not sure why. I’m usually in an upbeat mood but today for some reason I’m just feeling pissy. Maybe it’s because today is my first day back in the office after being on vacation for a week. Maybe it’s because I’m leaving tomorrow for a 3 ½ week work trip. International travel isn’t the hotness right now and I hope I can at least take a book to read with me on the plane. I’ll go stir crazy with nothing to occupy my time for 17 hours.

I can’t remember the last time I was in an “uhhhh” mood and didn’t know what caused it. One of our admins came into my office to discuss something and when she droned on I could feel myself tensing and I literally had to keep myself still because all I wanted to do was turn back to my computer and ignore her.

Whenever I need a pick me up at work and head for the vending machine for a bag of cheetos. There is nothing like that crunchy cheesy goodness to help me feel so much better BUT as part of my eat well, live well, loose weight goal I’m ignoring my need and drinking a bottle of water instead and eating a mini bag of popcorn with no butter (Just 100 calories MNM).

Hopefully tomorrow is a better day.

Mom’s Say the Darnest Things

Mama Honest is the bestest and although she can be worrisome on certain issues she really is the best mom a girl could want. My parent’s were born and raised in Haiti and both left in the early 60’s and eventually immigrated to the US in 1970 after they’d met and gotten married in Europe. Despite 36 years in the US their accents are still pretty thick. They also have a habit of mispronouncing words or incorrectly using certain phrases in conversations.

When my dad was visiting me a few weekends ago a friend of mine came by whose parents are also foreigners and is used to accents. After she left she commented that although she laughed she had no idea what he was saying. My dad says that we “people” hear with an accent and he speaks perfect English.

Yesterday my mom and I stopped at Circuit cit.y to buy a flash drive for her laptop and I reverted back into my childhood and asked her to buy me a DVD. When she said no, this led to a funny exchange with the cashier and ended with my mom saying and I quote “She’s a working girl; she can by her own DVD”. I saw the puzzled look the cashier gave my mom and when we left I had to tell my mom she just told the cashier I was a prostitute. As you can imagine she was a bit embarrassed but I’m used to these scenarios with my parents.

A long time ago my mom was telling me a story and kept repeating “It’s a meat, a meat”. When I was a teenager and my mom or dad was telling a story and they weren’t clear or didn’t pronounce something and I didn’t understand I’d just ignore them and keep moving. A few years later my mom repeated the “it’s a meat” story and when I finally stopped and asked her what in the world she was talking about she said “meat, you know not necessarily true, fairy tale”. It finally dawned on me that she was trying to say “Myth”. I was like “Ma its Myth” and she’s like yeah that’s what I said “meat”.

Unfortunately the French language lacks “th”

Anxious

I’m taking the week off (kind of) in honor of my Honest Mama visiting from NYC. I started my semi vacation on Friday afternoon and it’s already Wednesday evening. Where did the time go? Yesterday my mom and I met some of my old colleagues for lunch outside of the agency I used to work for in downtown D.C.

As I sat on a bench and waited for our appointment time I ran into an old colleague that used to work for my current company but now work's for our major client, my old agency. Who says you can’t go from the private sector to government. Suddenly a certain weird feeling over came me as I watched more and more people go in and out of the office building with those familiar badges. I felt anxious, nervous even to be back where I started my career and the building I spent so much time in for the first three years of my DC life. Where I learned my lesson that you shouldn’t get your meat where you get your bread, and learned that sometimes in life you need to make a change.

Lunch was great and hanging out with my mom has also been great and I’m going to be sad to see her leave on Sunday. It’s funny but when my mom is visiting I forget I’m 32 years old and revert back to being a kid. Who am I to argue if she doesn’t think the kitchen floor was scrubbed hard enough and wants to do it herself, not I. Who am I to argue if she wants to vacuum and scrub even though I cleaned like a demon before she arrived? I am truly a spoiled kid.

Secrets and Such

I have some and no, I won’t tell you people otherwise they won’t be secrets. I’ve learned over the years that the only way to keep a secret is to not tell anyone, not a soul. Sounds pretty simple doesn’t it? Unfortunately some people don’t realize that you can’t tell people your secret and not expect it to get out. The following scenario has me shaking my head and trying to find the right moment to let the secret teller know that the supposed secret and its details she confirmed telling to only a handful of people have crossed continents and found its way across the Washington DC metropolitan area.

Secrets that involve sex, scandal and work colleagues are hot and too juicy to just let slide for most people. They’re like trying to grill asparagus with sesame oil, you’ll get a lot of smoke and if you’re not careful fire. That’s why I always say: “Don’t get your meat where you get your bread”. Do you really want your love life talked about at the water cooler, dinner parties and across the pond?

Cruel

The world is a cruel, cruel place. I’m not talking about the war going on in Lebanon against innocent civilians, not talking about the probable (actual) civil war going on in Iraq. I’m talking about my fucking (yes I’m livid) air conditioning unit going out yesterday. Light flickered, then no more air. At first I thought ok maybe it’s going through that kick on, kick off cycle since I have it on auto. It never came back on; I lowered the temperature to make sure. Turned the thermostat on and off, went outside to turn the unit (thingy) on and off, and turned the switch off at the electrical panel and zip, nada. Lights are working, innanet is still on, cable and Tivo are working so I figured it’s my air conditioning unit giving up.

At 7 AM I call the heating and cooling people a friend recommended and they give me an 8AM to 12PM window. Lawd Jesus! It’s hot here, as my girl Mu would say “It’s as hot as two squirrels fighting in my cleavage”.

Hallelujah the cooling people come at 8:30 thinker around bill me $110 including a gas surcharge fee (da hell) and tell me there’s nothing they can do because the problem is with Pepco (DC’s electricity company). Apparently I have partial power going into the house so things like my air conditioning unit and my dryer aren’t working. I call Pepco get a computer asking me to give all the info, say yes or no and god forbid if you ask a question the computer will hang up on you. So I call back and finally yell enough for “operator” that I get a live person who tells me there’s a problem in my neighborhood that isn’t scheduled to be looked at until after 1PM. I guess I’ll go into the office now to cool off.

The world really is a cruel, cruel place.