I need Electrolytes… STAT.
@’s a saint, I’ll tell you that much. Last Thursday, while in DC, she and I managed to up our daily “together time” from about 10 hours to 16 hours. And of course, I was in serious storytelling mode, not to mention that I wanted everybody’s opinion on my latest “romantic” debacle. At dinners, bars, basically everywhere I had the chance to get another person’s feedback, @ was there, privy to how the story became GRANDER as time went on. Then she yelled at me. OK… maybe she didn’t “yell.” And fine… maybe I deserved it… a little.
She did yell at this guy:
And he definitely deserved it. The message is clear in the handbook of revolutionists, "Step 1: To start a revolution, you must first buy a t-shirt sporting an 'in your face' message." In the same vein, how would one go about ending the revolution? Does one put on pants? Where can one buy the revolution-ending pants that say, "Pot smoking hippies selling t-shirts... Go home to your communes." I bet Wal-Mart sells them.
What We Learned There
No one understands what @ and I do, not even @ and I. But we just returned from five days spent in the presence of every librarian on earth. And I learned a thing or two about myself, from the people of DC…
I do not look like:
- A librarian (according to a cab driver)
- A mother (same cab driver)
- A terrorist (according to a kind-of cute cop – though I’ve never known myself to be swayed by the “men in uniform” thing – and I didn’t look super cute because was dressed for the occasion of running and had mascara under my eyes from the night before. But, he did tell me, as he shooed me away from the White House that since I didn’t look like a terrorist, I could be trusted with the knowledge that any moment Dick “The Chain” Cheney would be arriving. Then, I felt special.)
Speaking Of the Cab Drivers
It’s different there. The cabbies in DC are like nuclear physicists in their home counties, they communicate effectively, and tend not to drive like they have a death wish either for themselves or their passengers (or both). It’s weird. To that end, all the cabs say, “Call 911.” I found this explanation on a site called WiredGeek:
“The city is (was?) so dangerous that cabs have "Call 911" lights on top of them to instruct people to call 911 when the cabbie is being held up (seriously).”Comforting...
Lou and @ Take Extended Lunch in DC
Lou (while waiting in line for lunch): I think I want to get cookie for lunch… I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t get a cookie. If I get a cookie, my energy will dip, and I don’t want my energy to dip. Where are the cookies here anyway? What are you getting?
@: Chicken sandwich.
Lou: Do you think I should get a cookie? Probably not. You know what… I don’t need a cookie.
@ (staring past me): Huh?
Lou: Oh nothing. I wasn’t really talking to you. Sometimes I just say everything that goes through my head out loud. I don’t really have a filter. I don’t know…
@ (stares at me): Yeah. I figured that out about eight months ago.
Lou and @ Roll a Heavy Cart around the DC Convention Center
@: I’m using my core muscles to pull this cart.
Lou: Thank God you’ve been taking that Xtreme Pilate's class.
Lou: You know @, now that I have all this extra time on my hands and my ass is looking good, I will focus more on my abs.
@ (incredulous): Wow.
Lou: Let's go to the hotel gym tonight.
Lou: I'm gonna work on my abs.
Lou and @ go to Dinner with a Co-worker
Lou (to the waiter): I will have… a… Stella.
Lou (to @): OMG @! I feel like I’m you. Are you proud of me?!?!?! I just ordered a Stella. Did you see that? A Stella, @… Just like you.
@: Stella is a shitty Belgian beer.
Lou: Like hipster shitty? Like so shitty it’s awesome?
Lou Spies a Hipster Librarian
Lou: @, look, look… Is that a hipster librarian?
@: I’m not sure… but that’s definitely Androgyny.
Lou: Oh... awesome. I heart Androgyny. It’s one of my favorite things.
And Finally… Today
We celebrate the 28th anniversary of my birth. It was weird to read what I wrote a year ago... a couple of bizarre things… like last year, I skipped my eight mile run this year and, used the term “mutually exclusive” in my post – why do I think about mutual exclusivity almost exclusively on my birthday? Anyway, I also read it and thought, “My God! It sounds like my outlook was so positive then.” All lies. I was miserable… but, to my credit… I tried. Whatever. Now I’m 28. I woke up this morning thinking, “I’m 28 now.” It was very… anti-climactic.
Kind of... like... now...