A N N A J O H N ' S D I A R Y

I know far too much about Goggies.

bookshelf spectrum, revisited

bookshelf spectrum, revisited, originally uploaded by chotda.

One of the things which is stressing me out and consuming much of my time right now is moving; I find moving more stressful than break-ups. I hate-hate-hate doing it and have put it off for months now.

NB: I know many of you thought I was moving to SF this past March, but that obviously didn't happen and it's for the best. When I say I have put moving off for months, I'm not referring to THAT cross-country-clusterfuck. Rather, I'm referring to the fact that my gemutlich Kalorama studio started falling apart...and the fantastic building manager who would've prevented and/or immediately addressed such issues was promoted and moved down the street to a different building because, well, she's fantastic.

Good for her, not so good for me. I needed to move, but I felt trapped, both by my reluctance to deal with the hassle and the fact that everything I was looking at was $$$. Despite the crumbling, bubbling ceilings, the broken heater and the occasional roach-spotting, I found the lesser of two shitty evils to be staying where I was...and being miserable. If I had received a magic 20% raise, I would've sucked it up and left, especially after all those nights spent freezing in March and April, but nothing I looked at in my price range was that much better OR as close to a metro. So I was stuck.

And then, a good friend got a different job, relocated to the West Coast and offered me dibs on his beautiful apartment, which is in a much posher building than mine-- and yet, $300 cheaper (utilities included). Did I mention the rooftop pool and the one-block proximity to the metro? No? I was probably too busy gloating gleefully. ;) I hurriedly said, "HELL YES" and then thanked the Lord that I'd be moving somewhere where there were no roaches, the ceilings were intact, the heater worked-- and the rent was less than what I paid for my Kalorama crib in 2006 (which was already a steal).

Still.

I'd rather parade down M Street on October 31st wearing one of those skanky halloween costumes ("naughty nurse!"..."pervy policewoman!"..."frisky french maid!") from The Pleasure Place with my abs in their current shameful state and my upper arm fat flapping in the wind than pack everything I own in to boxes and move them-- and if you've seen those costumes, my bikinis are more conservative.

So yeah. I think you realize how much I hate moving. I almost had an anxiety attack about it yesterday.

::

I am leaving one apartment for another, and I've been trying to figure out what I want to do with this "fresh start", decor wise. I thought a wall of shelves might be wise (and cheap-- they are on sale at Tarzhay this week) but I wasn't sure...until I saw this. Isn't it lovely?

I certainly wouldn't mind having so many books that I could arrange them like this, by color (!), but I also wouldn't mind that cutie-patootie pug, either...oh, hell, I wouldn't mind any dog. I just miss my dog, period.

The photo is striking and inspirational. Over a thousand people have favorited it on Flickr, which is a testament to how cool it is. It put a smile on my face, I thought I'd make your mouth move that way, too.

MOU

FRIDAY

7:00am    wake up, curse patisserie for not being open with helpful Illy drink.

7:45am     pray frantically.

8:00am    survive most important phone interview of MY LIFE.

9:00am    try and stop twitching from nerves, get some sleep.

11:00am  wake up, brush teeth, call Vicky's, get caffeine.

11:30am   pedicure.

11:35am   Vicky is disgusted by my lack of toe maintenance (hello, unemployment!).

12:30pm   leave Vicky's.

1:00pm     shower!  hurry!

1:30pm     pray for correct metrobus to arrive.

2:00pm     pick up car.

2:30pm     haircut, at which I'm tempted to say, lop it all off OR make it look like Blake Lively or Angelina.**

2:40pm     debate the importance of bangs and if necessary, what length they should be.

3:30pm     leave  salon, feel human again.

4:00pm     get hooked up by cousin who is make-up artist for Stila.

5:30pm     fetch Panda.

6:oopm     Vicky's AGAIN.

7:01pm     take boxes from here to new apt, since we have car.

7:30pm     leave for Potomac or wherever.

8:ish          rehearsal dinner.

2:01am      leave party.

SATURDAY

3:00am     fall in to bed, tell you we have to be up in a few hours, you whine.

11:00am   wake your panda ass up.

12:00pm   two hours of mad errand-running.

2:00pm     return car, hail cab.

2:30pm      leave for Sheraton.

3:00pm     arrive, check in, change in to suitable north indian sari.

4:30pm     my first Hindu ceremony.

5:30pm     end of ceremony.

7:00pm     Cocktails.

8:00pm     woooh shaji's murried ann i'm drunkk ypeeee!

12:00am   Dholi.

SUNDAY

11:00am   wake up with hangover, plead for late check-out.

12:00pm   leave hotel.

1:00pm     drop stuff at home, preferably in a heap which is directly in our way, later.

2:00pm    Garden and Cosmos opening @ Freer/Sackler.

6:00pm     pass out because we are pathetic.

9:00pm     wake up and ransack fridge.

10:00pm   Episode 12 of Mad Men.

10:30pm   Ambien time!

11:30pm    I'll be sleep-walking at this point, so just point me towards a safe, flat surface.

**Right now, hair looks like top row/middle pic of this collage, except black instead of brown.

Look who Miss Jackson is stalking...

...it's my favorite finalist from Project Runway. Oh, snap. I didn't THINK he could get more fabulous. 

Sharp shooter into breakin’ hearts
A baby gigolo, a sex pistol
Hollerin’ at everything that walks
No substance, just small talk
Know why you’re feelin’ on that girl’s behind,
You got a sleazy, one track mind
Workin’ your work until you find
Who’s goin’ home with you tonight.

September 29: for luck, even if inadvertently so.

I am having an awful morning. Like, appalling. Despair-inducing. Panda-had-to-stop-me-from-pitching-myself-out-the-window-level bad.

In his haste to both get to work and before doing so, reassure me that

a)The rodents in the kitchen weren’t going to attack me
b)The roaches outside weren’t going to attack me
c)Nothing is worth pitching oneself out the window

…he forgot his watch. His very special, so attached-to-it he sleeps with it on (which is something I only thought my strange little sister did) watch.

After I resigned myself to the fact that ill winds were going to come my way, whether I freaked out about them or not, I emerged from my comforter/pillow fort, put on a deceptively cheery (mustard yellow and peacock blue) outfit and went in to the bathroom, to splash water on my face. And there it was. Heavy metal, out of place. Forgotten.

Several months ago, when I was reeling from loss and disappointment, I met a new friend at Mate in Georgetown, for happy hour, even though I was anything but. As I ordered Pomegranate margaritas two-at-a-time, I became concomitantly bitter at my shitty luck and trashed with tequila. Slurring my words like a champion, I blathered something at poor Panda about how when I was small, I liked to wear my Dad’s watch. Then, though he had known me for all of two hours at that point, I grabbed his hand and started to maul it.

It’s fair to point out, however, that even if I had been sober, I wouldn’t have been able to unlatch the clasp, because it was different from those I was used to. Panda very patiently took off his beloved graduation gift and handed it over, and I immediately put it on, while exclaiming about how “effing heavy thith thing ith!”. After my fifth margarita and the end of my tale of woe, he gently suggested that I might want to consume something besides triple sec and he escorted me out of the lounge. I blurted, “Amma!” and since anyone who has read me at all knows exactly what and where that is, he dutifully walked me there and ordered me lemon rice. I don’t remember much of the evening, beyond that. I think I gave the watch back, but kept wearing his beautiful, pastel, silk twill tie. Oh yeah, I forgot about that bit—when trashed I like to take off peoples’ ties and demonstrate how “awethome I am at, like, tying a winthor.”

Anyway, that was almost six months ago and I haven’t worn this watch (or that tie!) since then. Not until today, when it seemed like some sort of omen, some confirmation that I was doing the right thing by facing my demons vs the pretty aqua duvet fabric.

So I put it on. And today is rough, but my aching left wrist (thith thing ith heavy!) is a constant, weighty reminder that even if I lose all of this, the hand which normally wears this watch will always be there to help me up, when I fall.

What's in my purse...again.

(click to enlarge, if you'd like...)

What's in my super ancient Fendi lunchbag purse?

Clockwise, from top:

1) Chococat Sack o' Stickers

2) Hello Kitty "Pirate" wallet, which has anchors all over it, which is perfect for this DG, which is why I'm mad sad that I can't replace it...oh, well.

3) Heart-patterned emery board

4) New take on something from childhood: erasable pens

5) SmarTrip Metro/Subway card

6) Cadbury Dairy Milk bite-size candy

7) (partially obscured) L'oreal Glam Shine lip gloss

8) Sharpie Extra-fine point in Yellow

9) Godiva Chocoiste "Dark Chocolate Pearls with Mint"

10) Half of my Coach Key chain, with half my keys.

What's in my purse? - August 19th Edition (slightly updated)

WIMP, originally uploaded by suitablegirl.

Almost five years after I commenced a fotolog devoted entirely to "What's in my purse?", I'm still dumping out my bags and photographing the contents, albeit not as often...

Surprising as it may seem, out of my (then) five blogs and fotologs, this was once the *most popular* site of them all; no other website generated as many impatient emails for me to "Update, already!".  Shocker, I know.

Clockwise from the top:

1) My straw purse (floral lining, bamboo handles)
2) Sanrio "pirate" Hello Kitty wallet*
3) dead Canon SD :(
4) Smith Sunglasses
5) Tide pen
6) CVS anti-bacterial hand spray, in "pen-like" formation
7) WaPo magazine Sunday crossword puzzle
8) half of Coach key fob
9) green mechanical pencil
10) hot pink micro-point rollerball pen
11) Cadbury Milk miniatures (x 3)
12) atomizer filled with Creed perfume
13) CVS anti-bac individual wipe
14) Goody anti-slip hair elastics (partially under #13)
15) SmartTrip card for the DC metro
16) Red Palm Centro from Sprint
17) Orbit Cinnamon (cinnamint?) gum
18) non-stick lip gloss in "lotus"
19) facial tissue (allergies...ugh)

*Since it's "pirate-themed", it's covered in anchors, my sorority's symbol...wish I had bought two of them, this one is falling apart, out of overuse and love

What a racket!

What a racket!, originally uploaded by suitablegirl.

Friday. 1:15 am.

Panda: Can you hit a tennis ball?

Me: Not sure. It's been 15 years. I know! Let's go outside right now and see.

Panda: Okay.

Me: Like...in the street, and then when a car comes, we'll yell "CAR!"

Panda: Cool, let's go.

Me: I wish we were by a cool park.

Panda: We are!

Me: I think I'd still rather play in the street. It's wacky.

Panda: Aight.

Me: OOOOOH! You know what would be AWESOME? Let's go there (i.e. sneak in to an alley behind an innocent cafe)! It's really bright AND it's empty!

Panda: *shrug*

Me: Be vewwy, vewwy quiet...

Panda: *serve*

Me: *miss* DAMNIT!

Panda: It's all right.

Me: I wish I could hit the *thwap* ...ball?

*successful volley*

Panda: Oh, nice. You _can_ hit.

Me: Yeah, I can. Except you realize I couldn't see the ball right? My bangs kept falling in my face.

Panda: Sure, you can't play with your hair like that.

Me: I'll wear a headband tomorrow. But honestly, it was just that. The cameos, pearls and cocktail dress really didn't bother me!


~ excessively fun post-tennis classic stupidity

Legg Mason Tennis- I iz at it

I haven't played tennis regularly in about...15 years, but I'm always happy to attend actual sporting events (it's the only way ill watch baseball for ex). When Panda decided to take me to see Andy Roddick, I was mildly excited. Unfortunately, I had a strssful few hours before all the excitement AND I neglected to consume solid food, so by the time I got here I was a wee bit frazzled. One nutella and strawberry crepe later, I'm feeling a bit more in the mood for 140 mph serves. If only my camera weren't broken... :(

sent NOT from my iPhone. I haz centro, kthxbai

I want to go

I want to go, originally uploaded by suitablegirl.

I am so dragging Panda to this. 

Yet another reason to be grateful that I live in Washington, D.C., and that fate intervened and allowed me to stay here.  San Francisco will always be home, there, waiting...but right now, this is where I'm meant to be, this is where I truly belong.

Smithsonian's International Gallery, Washington
            July 12, 2008-October 5, 2008

Organized by the Smithsonian Institution Traveling Exhibition Service with The Jim Henson Legacy, Jim Henson's Fantastic World offers audiences a rare peek into the imagination of this brilliant innovator and creator of Kermit, Big Bird, and other beloved characters. The exhibition documents Henson’s process of “visual thinking” through works of art, photographs, documents, puppets and other 3-D objects, and film and video clips. Museums may create a separate activity center with the educational and interactive resources provided.

p.s. it's on tour...