Globalization is great

Today, I met a Palestinian presidential appointee who got his MBA from my current school and whose son is considering getting a communications degree from my undergraduate school.

I bought earrings designed by a Yemeni from an Irishwoman named Claire who owns a jewelry boutique in Jerusalem. I also quietly negotiated a great price with her for this fabulous Roman glass ring - never thought I'd own a piece of excavated history! She made me promise not to tell my travel companions about the bargain.

And I took a ride with a local taxi driver whose nephew is rated as one of the top DJs in Miami.

So sad to leave Israel already, but Nashville beckons!

Things You Learn When Traveling to Ramallah

1. Government employees get full security detail. It's way cooler than a taxi. But the backseat of the armored SUV is surprisingly cramped, even for a small Asian woman.

2. Israeli checkpoints are still kinda scary even when you're traveling among a security detail caravan and security men in your car with ear pieces, flak jackets and an M-16 tucked under a blanket in the front seat.

3. The Israeli-constructed wall made some concrete manufacturer really, really wealthy.

4. Israeli homes have white water tanks on their roofs and Palestinian homes have black water tanks.

5. Practically every office of Palestinian Authority officials has a framed portrait of Yasser Arafat and Mahmoud Abbas on the wall.

6. The traffic between Ramallah and Jerusalem during evening rush hour is hellish.

7. The espresso is potent. And that's an understatement.

8. I'm an idiot for forgetting my camera.

I still can't believe I'm really here. This has been the most amazing business trip EVER. Not only have I sat in on meetings with the Central Bank of Israel and top ministers of the Palestinian Authority, but meetings don't get started here until well after 10 a.m. How great is that?!

Shalom

Currently in Israel, traveling with the government. And let me tell you, your tax dollars are well at work! I'll be running about Israel and the West Bank for the next few days, sitting in on meetings with investors and banks, doing my best to look moderately important and informed. U.S. Government employees may not be paid much (I think the agency I'm interning with only received a 2.3% pay raise last year) but they sure do travel well. Once Dulles Airport opened up again after a brief shutdown following a security breach that left me standing in the security line for 30 minutes, the trip has been smooth sailing. Not only did we travel business class, but the U.S. embassy in Tel Aviv sent a driver out to meet us at the airport and we cut past everyone in the passport line. SO great! I also sat next to a very charming Israeli doctor whose ear size was astonishingly disproportionate to his hearing. We talked about U.S. foreign policy and he firmly believes that we need a woman in the White House to set things right. It was refreshing to hear after I endured a cab ride with a Pakistani driver who adamently argued that women have no business running countries. I pointed out that it's been men driving countries into the mess we see around the world today, but, big shocker, he didn't concede.

I return to Washington on Thursday, immediately change planes to Nashville for the Net Impact conference, get back to Washington on Sunday and drive to Virginia to help my sister move into her new place. Can't believe it, but she gets married next weekend -- which also means I'm back on a plane next Thursday, this time to Houston. Meanwhile, I'm still trying to keep up with five classes, two internships, and the Boy I'm Dating the Most (who is quickly moving toward the title of The Boy I'm Dating).

I think I'll hop into the jacuzzi for a bit before our dinner with the biggest bank in Israel. Somehow I ended up in a suite at the Hilton, overlooking the ocean. And a parking lot but I try not to look down.

The Gang competes!

After 51 grueling hours of business analysis and case competition craziness, with just smattering of sleep, my team -- the one and only Team 10 -- emerged victorious! In the words of one of my teammates, I think our collective reaction was: "Holy hell!" We won our way out of the final 20-page paper and took home winnings of $900. I still can't believe it.

We had to fight with the security guards to let us stay in the school building after midnight. (And seriously? What school says to its tuition-paying students, "no, you absolutely cannot stay in this building willingly in order to do schoolwork.") Our sustenance for two days came from pizza, Thai food, Snickers bars, and gallons of Starbucks coffee. A random CVS shopping cart became our only source of entertainment. But those things were merely crumbs under the table compared to the overwhelming talent of the Gang of 100. If you know the Gang, then you know what a tough competition it truly was.

What an honor to compete with these amazingly people! I'm so proud of all of us -- I know there were some judges who were just blown away by the presentations the teams gave. Our little Gang is going to go off and do great things, I just know it.

Now, while I'm convinced that the balanced nature of our team, coupled with the mind-blowing intelligence and chemistry contributed to our success, I have to share the true secret .... Paul Potts.

Thanks to a Team 10 member, we discovered Paul Potts, a shy, unassuming, and rather awkward mobile phone salesman who wanted more than anything to sing opera. Somehow he made it to the auditions for the TV talent show, "Britain's Got Talent." Just watch.

Adventures in the Video Store

Last Thursday was date night -- dinner and a movie at my house. The boy I'm dating most (BIDM) came over around 9pm and we decided to grab some Thai food and support the local neighborhood video store rather than the Blockbuster. (I think he's an even bigger do-gooder than I am). So we ordered food and wandered down to the store -- quickly realizing that the selection was rather limited. I think the new releases section took up about two walls.

We finally settled on a movie and went to check out, chatting it up with the employees. I was doing my usual uber-social thing, joking around and playing up the fact that getting a membership card truly made me legit in the Eastern Market 'hood. As I was filling out the membership form, another customer came to check out ... and I noticed out the of corner of my eye that the DVD he was renting featured a very large and nearly naked woman. With a sinking feeling, I tried to get a better look at the cover without being too obvious ... and the elbow jab from BIDM confirmed what the sinking feeling was telling me.

I was in the process of becoming a member of the neighborhood porn store.

Sure enough, the employee proceeded to give me the lay of the land -- old videos $3.50, new releases $4.50, and the adult room in the back had the $5.50 videos.

Suddenly, everything made sense. The shady exterior, the limited selection in the front, the fact the employees could brag about being in business for 20+ years despite the arrival of Blockbuster, the older gentleman in a suit who came in right after us, plopped his briefcase on the counter, and with a nod to the employees, walked straight through the door in the back of the store.

And we were renting Children of Men.

But we had reached the point of no return. My contact information was entered into the database and I was the owner of a newly laminated membership card. I looked toward the back and realized that the back "wall" was only a makeshift structure that didn't reach the ceiling and clearly the back room went a whole lot further back.

After we paid, the employee put Children of Men into a blue bag that concealed its contents and we were on our merry albeit stunned way.

So, armed with Thai food and a blue bag that proudly proclaimed "Rent movies of all ratings," we sheepishly walked back home, laughing the entire way, and knowing full well that everyone else in the Eastern Market 'hood knew what was in the bright blue bag.

Do I know how to show a guy a good time or what?

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Now playing: Kanye West - I Wonder
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You go, Jimmy!

Our 83-year-old former president got into a shouting match with Sudanese security officials yesterday. AWESOME. They wouldn't let him into a town where he was supposed to meet with people in a town in Darfur and when they refused to let him pass, he shot back with what amounts to "I'm gonna tell the President on you!" The President of Sudan, of course.

I heart Jimmy Carter.

Love in Bullet Points

While I seem to have stumbled upon a pretty fabulous guy to hang out with these days, I was reminded this week about how many swine I encountered before discovering one pearl (yeah, mixed metaphor, but whatever). Like the Metro worker who caught up with me on the escalator today and asked if I knew who Halle Barry is, because (and I quote) "she'd be real mad at you." I have no idea what that was supposed to mean but I'll chalk it up to the new pair of zebra print shoes that I was sporting. They're so hot, men can't think straight around them.

Then there was the man I'll call Stash, who cornered me at the bar on Monday. I had merely stopped in to see how much money we raised during my bartending adventure. J poured me a beer on the house (and a couple of follow-up shots) and Stash sauntered over for a chat. Since J was working, he couldn't come save me and I couldn't give out my fake bar name. Well, I was dumb enough to give him my generic email address. In my defense, this guy knows Derek Jeter because he was heading to Tampa to set up Jeter's home entertainment system, and he said he could score playoff tickets. (Hm. As I type this, I realize just exactly how entirely foolish I was to believe him ... but, hey, I haven't been to Yankee Stadium in ages!)

Anyway, Stash walked off with my generic email and sure enough, a few days later I had a note from him. I could just paraphrase it for you, but it's so much more entertaining in all of its over-the-top flattering, glaringly misspelled glory. Enjoy.

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Yes, you made quite an impact. It was certainly a pleasure meeting you at the bar Monday night. It was purely coincidence that we meet because I was suppose to finish my project Monday and leave that evening. in stead, we worked late and decided to finish Tuesday morning and grab a beer and a bite. I apologize for not presenting myself more appropriately. I needed a shave and I was sweating all day. I can assure you when we meet again you will notice a marked inmprovement.

Let's talk about you. You got it going on girl....let me explain. I was impresed in a few different areas.

- Intellect: You have a depth of intellect that captivates a listener

- Pay it forward: You have a very good sense of generosity in terms of giving back to society. We should all seek ways to improve civilization and one way is to support programs that help the overall general population. I am not a big fan of corporate America.

- Great Conversationist: You hold your own with interesting conversation and you promote good communication.

- YES... you are a Yankees fan. I am in Tampa as we I type. I will let you know how my week work out with the players. I will be able to invite you to his tournament in January as we progress our friendship.

World Traveler: I apprecite a world traveler because other regions open ones' mind while gaining understanding and respect for other cultures.

I can see taking a 10 hours flight with you and completely enjoying our conversation and having a wonderful time say, in Buenos Aires, Paris or anywhere.

I would like to take you to dinner and continue getting to know you as a person. I have a tentative meeting with a client in DC in the next 2 weeks. The actual date is flexible ( has to be a weekday) so let me know what works for you and you pick your favorite restaurant.

You seem to appreciate museums. That is why I have been to Paris over 10 times. I enjoy the museums, the sidewalk cafes, the vineyards in the region and the overall cosmopolitan atmosphere.

It is my hope that we can become good friends and I can take you one of your favored destinations. I love to travel and so do you. My future desires are: Hong Kong, Thailand, Buenos Aires, yes Dubai and maybe Bali or Shangli.

Keep in touch and tell me more about yourself or you can wait until we have dinner. I pride myself in being someone very open, generous, helpful and understanding. I believe in treating people right and maintaining friendships. All of my good friends will say nothing but positive things about me but I hoping you will find out on your own.

Good luck in scholl this week.

~Stash



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Now playing: John Coltrane - Moment's Notice
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I must be insane ...

Somehow, I convinced myself that it would be a good idea to apply for a second internship while already working 10 hours a week and taking 5 classes.

Somehow, against all odds, I managed to actually get the job offer, which happens to be with a remarkable organization that does overseas investments in emerging markets. I couldn't say no. It's so perfect for me! Except that I'm pretty sure I'm not smart enough to work there. And I don't know a lick about financing projects in emerging markets ... hopefully the 300-page book I just borrowed from the library will save the day. Or least teach me enough to fake it.

Somehow, I have to survive working Monday and Wednesday days until classes from 5:10-9:40pm, working all day Tuesday, and working Thursday until class from 3-6pm, while juggling Net Impact and student government responsibilities, finding time for at least a couple IPOs, doing homework, and maybe even squeezing in a date or two with a rather fabulous new guy who makes me smile. A lot. In a blushing, giddy, I'm-laughing-at-your-jokes-because-they're-actually-witty-not-because-
I-have-to kinda way.

It's too bad that sleep truly is all it's cracked up to be.

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Now playing: Iron & Wine - Sunset Soon Forgotten
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Camping is pretty great. Most of the time.

There is a right way and a wrong way to go camping. And I think I discovered a little of both over the weekend. Here's the recap:

The right way -- camping on the beach of an island with wild horses. Even though the horses look more like domesticated ponies. "Who's gonna riiiide your wild horses?" sang in my head all weekend long. I didn't dare sing out loud, for fear that my fellow campers would do something really mean to me in the dark of the night.

The wrong way -- borrowing an old, musty tent that's been sitting outside for about 20 years.

The right way -- Camping at a site near a Wal-Mart so you can buy a new tent for $26 on Day 2, after two campers have slept in the Ford Explorer because the musty tent wouldn't stand up.

The wrong way -- Driving to camp in a Ford Explorer with a weak battery that dies on the first night while trying (unsuccessfully) to set up the old musty tent in the middle of the night.

The right way -- Having camping neighbors with jumper cables that give your dead vehicle a boost the next morning.
The wrong way -- Not realizing that the car battery is worthless and having to ask your neighbor for a second jump 4 hours later.

The right way -- Going back to the Wal-Mart to buy a new car battery.

The wrong way -- Not bringing waterproof matches on an island with a lot of moisture in the air and realizing that sometimes Bic lighters don't actually solve all the world's problems.

The right way -- Starting a campfire with lighter fluid purchased at Wal-Mart.

The wrong way -- Placing pots on the picnic table where an unsuspecting camper can burn himself.

The right way -- Eating bacon, eggs and pancakes after icing the camper's burnt fingers.

So, all in all, we did more right things than wrong things on this trip! Especially considering that I haven't actually been camping in ages -- not counting the time I spent a weekend in a tent in someone's backyard woods on Cape Cod. (We had access to the most amazing outdoor shower, so we definitely weren't roughing it by any stretch of the imagination). I feel terrible saying this, but Wal-Mart saved us this past weekend. Ugh, I feel so dirty after typing those words.

But I might be hooked on this whole camping thing. I might not have truly been "in the wild" on this particular trip, but I'm already thinking big -- like maybe a week-long camping trip in the Grand Canyon over winter break....or conquering the Appalachian Tail, a la Bill Bryson. Hmm. I better find a really capable (and hot) Eagle Scout to accompany me.



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Now playing: Common - I Want You (Feat. Will.I.Am)
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News flash: Men are insecure

The good news is that women in their 20s are earning more than their male counterparts (mostly due to the fact that we're more educated). The bad news is that many men are too insecure to handle it. This poses problems for well-educated, well-salaried women in the dating scene, according to this NY Times article ... Make sure you read to the end - the last paragraph is great, thanks to a quote from a fabulous friend of mine in Boston.

It would be interesting to see a follow-up article, with a focus on the men's point of view. This piece is decidedly female-centric -- would a survey of men reveal the same insight? Would men actually tell the truth? I mean, come on, very few men would actually admit to being insecure about dating a women who makes more money or is more educated. But, in my own experience and in the experience of many of my female friends, that insecurity is everywhere, albeit to varying degrees ...



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Now playing: Frank Sinatra & Bono - I've Got You Under My Skin
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If Stephanie Plum was a bartender ...

... she would have looked like me at the Net Impact fundraiser on Wednesday night. Having recently dyed my hair a bright red, I was all decked out in hot bartender gear -- black halter top, sexy but not too scandalous, great jeans and fabulous don't-mess-with-me boots.

But within the first 20 minutes, I broke three beer glasses, exploded a bottle of Sam Adams on myself, and concocted a handful of vodka shots that tasted more like rubbing alcohol with a splash of cranberry. However, the two regular bartenders, J and J, were fabulous coaches and I had improved considerably by the end of the night, earning an A+ rating from them and numerous rounds of various colored shots.

Then again, the grade might have been boosted because, at the behest of J, I went around the bar at the end of the night with money stuffed in my pants and halter top, asking for donations. I raised $45 with that little stunt alone! It wasn't without hurdles, however. During my circuit, I tried to start up a conversation with two women in a booth ... only to find out they were DEAF. Feeling like a complete idiot, I could only remember two words from my one semester of sign language class -- 'thank you' and 'sorry.' Both of which came in handy, after a friend came to the rescue and wrote out an explanation of what the crazy Asian girl with money bursting forth from her bra was doing. They gave me $5 and sent me on my way.

The largest contributer to the money-in-my-pants fund was Detective Adams, a regular at the bar, who shoved $10 into my clothes and wanted to give me his business card. I politely declined. Yes, I do have a desire to date a D.C. cop ... but I'd prefer that he is under the age of 40.

The good news is that we had a great turnout -- thanks to the Gang of 100, the Newbies and even my nonprofit co-workers! Not sure how much we raised yet but I have high hopes. And whatever the final tally is, I have two more dollars to add, which I discovered in my bra after I got home.

What a perfect way to end the night.

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Now playing: Jars Of Clay - Good Monsters
via FoxyTunes

Pest Plagues Persist

Who knew that house flies were so ... fertile? On Sunday, my roommate and I were preparing lunch when she said "I'm kinda freaked out that there are six flies on the door." Sure enough, there were a bunch of them crawling on the kitchen door window. We stepped back, glanced around the kitchen and suddenly realized that our two kitchen windows and door were COVERED in little crawling houseflies. We promptly screamed, ran around the kitchen trying to decide what to do, finally grabbed a couple of flyswatters and went to town. Within 20 minutes, we had accomplished our housefly genocide and vacuumed up the remains for a dusty and unceremonious burial with not an ounce of remorse. I think perhaps part of my spirit died with those little creatures. On second thought ... no effin' way. Call me a heartless mass murderer but I'd do it again in a New York minute. Them things are DIRTY.

(With no other explanation, we determined that the Musca Domestica progenitors must have laid eggs near the carcass of the dead mouse recently removed from under the stove. And the batch of offspring came to life. So. Freakin'. Gross.)

Please, Lord, let this be the last of the plagues. I don't think I can take much more. I made the mistake of looking up house flies on Wikipedia and discovered that a female can lay up to 9,000 eggs. Please, God, nooooo ....

But let me now move from mass murderer to bar mistress. Yep, I'm putting my pouring skills to the test tomorrow night - in a sacrificial effort to support a wonderful nonprofit called Net Impact, I'm giving up a Wednesday evening to get my friends drunk. Unfortunately, I don't get to keep the tips, but 10% of all bar sales go to this nonprofit. How nice, no? I feel like I should read up on mixing drinks, but figure that as along as I add plenty o' alcohol, the Gang of 100 and our new kids on the block aren't gonna care if I know how to properly blend a Mai Tai.

Surely there will be all sorts of excellent stories after tomorrow night ... like who's trying to party in whose pants among the Newbies. And who's the fake drunk. And who's a bad tipper. And how the boy I've been dating the most and the boy I used to be dating the most might both attend. Hmmm ...

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Now playing: Tarkan - Kuzu Kuzu (Original Version)
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Futility: Playing the harp before a buffalo

Sometimes even the best ideas go terribly, terribly wrong in the right hands.

Take, for instance, an "innovation" meeting. We were told to come up with innovative ideas to transform the organization and then come together to share ideas. It sounds like such a great idea, doesn't it? I mean, what manager doesn't want an innovative group of employees?

Unfortunately, this particular group of employees might need to re-think its definition of innovation. For me, I think of Einstein, Martin Luther King Jr., Elvis, etc. Not so much, for this team of innovators in the innovation meeting. Oh no. No, the only idea snatched up was creating an innovation poster (!) ... complete with a team photo and a list of "innovations" that the team has concocted. Surely, you are thinking, The Lady V must be making this up. Because no one would really, truly give voice to such an idea.

But you'd be wrong. Wait, the story gets better -- the list of innovations includes the "Maria CD," a compilation of about 12 songs with the name Maria in it, which was given as a gift to a co-worker named (you guessed it) Maria. And it would include the organization calendar made with Shutterfly that features employees for each month (not naked. Which, although it might be an improvement, is certainly still not an innovation). And it might even include the Jeopardy game that featured answers like "The newest employee to start working here." The game took up 40 minutes of the 60 minute "strategic" all-hands meeting.

I swear, I must have seen this in a Dilbert cartoon before. Or maybe in my worst business nightmare. This, I think, was worse than the time at Big Red when I sat in a town hall meeting, awed by a short video montage of missile test firings (!) set to the Pat Benatar song "Hit Me With Your Best Shot." Hm. Okay, maybe that was worse. But not by much.

Of course, the question that follows is, why did no one speak up at this innovation meeting? We're not exactly a group of wallflowers. Yet, there was something about the futility of the entire meeting that just smothered any spark of creativity that flickered pathetically in the great shadow of the innovation poster. It's interesting how just a few people can completely change the ambiance of a meeting from open dialogue to silent protestation. Not that I'm immune to this fault ... on the contrary, I know very well that I can be heavy-handed, over-bearing, and over-passionate. Yeah, I kinda suck. And that would be exactly why business without people would be so much easier. People (and me most of all) are just so darn messy.



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Now playing: Nico Gomez - Aquarela
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I can be so pathetic sometimes ... but don't tell anyone

There's something really wonderful about procrastination. Maybe it's the fact that my bedroom gets a thorough cleaning, my laundry gets washed, and my feet get a home spa pedicure when I'm procrastinating. Or maybe it's the workaholic "war stories" I can tell because I was up until 3am, writing a memo on NGO strategic management after networking with MBA students and posting a new blog entry. Eh, whatever it is, procrastination is a wonderful thing and it's because of procrastination that all of you are able to read something on The Lady V. Gosh, I haven't even had time to procrastinate since my last entry!

The new crop of MBA Kidz are alive and kicking. For now. Poor souls, they are so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed! I remember when I was like that ... before I felt like I had been run over by a truck and left in the middle of the road to be repeatedly crushed by passing vehicles before getting scraped up by a middle-aged, overweight man in blue overalls with a bad attitude.

Operation 2012 is also kinda feeling like a sputtering soul on its last legs. I've gone out a few times with a really great guy ... but we're running into a time management issue, it seems. This is what happens when two over-achievers get together, I guess. Oh, and there's been scant re-visiting from Ghosts of My Dating Past, so I feel like I'm officially moved on. But, Match.com is a bust. Seriously, I am the only Match user I know who hasn't gone on a single date! It's enough to make me curse Maya Angelou, whose disgustingly optimistic quote, "Have courage to trust love one more time. And always one more time" has been staring at -- no, taunting! -- me for months from one of those desk calendars that someone gives you when they can't think of anything else for a gift. Bah. I need to flip that calendar to a new quote. Too bad Angelou hasn't said much about the downfall of smarmy men and death to all romantic comedy films.

I need a vacation. Or at least a really great pick-me-up. Like a new pair of shoes! Except that I just spent a large chunk of change on books and school supplies. Bummer. I think I'll go and lose myself in a museum this weekend ... it'll be the third D.C. museum I've visited in a year!



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Now playing: Chopin - Nocturne No 2 In E Major
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The Creature in the Couch: Part II

We've spent the past few days avoiding the sofa, hoping that maybe if we ignored it for awhile, all signs of life inside it would go away. It usually works with smarmy men making unwanted advances, so why not with small house rodents?

We sort of got our wish last night.

With the clever use of our collective noses, my roommates and I confirmed the presence of a dead and decaying creature in our couch. blechhhhh. Again, we briefly freaked out and then bravely resolved to call an exterminator to go fishing for the dead in the squishy regions of the contaminated furniture. Come on, there was no way I was going to do that.

Thank the Good Lord Above for exterminators. The hero of the story came to the house this afternoon, somehow extricated what was left of the sofa beast AND found another expired intruder under the oven. I don't even know his name but he saved us from a fate worse than Alberto Gonzales' career.

Hopefully the story of rodents in my house is not one with three parts.

On a better note, I met the newest crop of business school students tonight! They were as eager to please as I was, just one year ago -- it was so great. I guess this officially makes me a big bad Second Year student. The Thursday night drinking fests known as IPOs start up next week. I'm not sure I'm properly prepared just yet ...


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Now playing: John Legend - Slow Dance
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Make them go away

Despite the fact that I just spent a wonderful weekend witnessing the wedding of two wonderful friends (is there a 'w' word for friend?), I must blog about the creature in my couch.

As faithful readers, you all know about the black box of doom that caused the demise of two small rodent houseguests. The black box of doom was succeeded by the exterminator, who I assume disposed of the very determined mouse who chewed through the wall to get to the birdseed on the counter. All seemed to be well in the house.

Until tonight.

I was up in my room, trying to get some work done, when my new third roommate climbed up the stairs and asked, rather shakily, if I could come downstairs because she thought something was in the sofa. Incredulous, I crept down the stairs and sure enough, there was a small lump in the back part of the couch. Hoping it to be benign, I poked it with the remote control and it MOVED. Are you kidding me!?! Why is something living in my sofa?!?! We promptly screamed like the girls we are and then launched into a five-minute debate on whether it was better to kill the creature while it was in the sofa or try to get it out of the sofa and trap/kill it.

Having never encountered this type of situation before, we didn't really come to a conclusion so we brainstormed who we could call for help. But at 10pm, our choices were rather limited. So I whacked the lump as hard as I could with the remote. We're not really sure if the creature is still in the sofa or if it burrowed its way elsewhere.

This situation is so not okay.

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Now playing: The Beatles - Here Comes The Sun
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Are Pity Dates Okay?

I went on a pity date. I just felt like I should at least have dinner with the kid, seeing as he had courage just to ask. But it was boring as sand in a desert. Which then made me wonder ... what's better for the guy? To be shot down from the very beginning or to be given a small shot, even if it's seen as a pity date from the girl's point of view? There was some disagreement at work -- the guys collectively groaned when I relayed the boring story of the date. The girls shrugged. Thoughts?

Here's what I do know -- pity dates shouldn't count towards Operation 2012.



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Now playing: Jeff Buckley - Last Goodbye
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One year later ...

It's hard to believe, but this weekend, one year ago, I moved from Boston to Washington D.C. The past 365 days have been rather a blur. It's true, some of those days (and nights) were spent in a drunken blur, but I'd say most of them are a fairly lucid blur. But I thought that since my blog has picked up some new readers, it might be worthwhile to recap some of my favorite entries from the past year. A few themes jumped out at me as I combed through the writings -- 1) I have great friends. 2)My dating life sucks. 3)MBA students like alcohol.

Hm. Maybe I should work on writing about things of more noble character in this next year ...

Enjoy!

525,600 -- Back when I waxed philosophical about friends and how they make me better. Oh wait, I still do that...

There's beauty in the breakdown -- The novelty of a new town and new friends started to wear off. But I had friends back in Boston and elsewhere to put me back together.

Dating and Football -- My MBA girls, also known as The Four Seasons, decided to try our hand at speed dating. Heh.

Top 5 Reasons Why MBA Students Are Dorks -- I think this is when I became fully indoctrinated.

Rumor Has It -- The best night of debauchery for the Gang of 100 EVER.

A Whole Lotta Ugly -- The ugliest sofa you will ever see in your life.

The Big Bang -- Explains why you should never drink water from the Potomac.

Why My Mom is Better Than Your Mom -- it's true.

Girl Meets Guinness -- The only time in my life that I got mad at a pint of Guinness

A Nation Conceived in Liberty -- Thoughts on the zeitgeist.

Quantifying Online Dating -- I boldly go where no (sane) MBA student has gone before.

Why Comcast is the Spawn of the Devil -- Seriously. Comcast has been a plague on my life.

Possibly the Best Craigslist Ad Ever Written -- So great, I had to share it again.

Sake It To Me -- The best and funniest stereotype I've ever had thrown at me.

Operation 2012 -- My dating adventures continue with the launch of Operation 2012. It crashed and burned on the first day.

At least I made it through alive! I'm looking forward to what the next 365 days has in store...




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Now playing: Sufjan Stevens - The Tallest Man, The Broadest Shoulders: Part I: The Great Frontier/Part II: Come To Me Only With Playthings Now
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How about Pinocchio?

A baby giant anteater (hmm oxy moron?) was born at the National Zoo a few weeks ago. The zoo vets are evidently trying to give the new family some privacy, so they don't know if the baby is a boy or a girl. Therefore, they can't name it.

That's where we come in. The Zoo is holding a "Name the Anteater" contest and you can vote for your favorite male and female names -- choose from Aurora, Pilar and Isabel or Cyrano, Francisco and Ferdinand.

You can also watch the mama anteater and the Zoo's first-ever baby anteater online here. Be warned: The National Zoo website is strangely captivating. You might be stuck on it for awhile.

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Now playing: Toby Lightman - Don't Wake Me
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eHarmony is the devil

So there's this guy at work. No, it's not what you're thinking. This guy is not at all my type. I think he's really nice at heart, but he's just a little lacking in the smooth department. I hate to say it, but he's a lurker. ew. Turns out that Lurker told another co-worker that he's "crushing big time" on me. Luckily, that very gracious and thoughtful co-worker dodged the question carefully and responded without giving a real response. Whatever he said must have been good enough for Lurker because he hasn't confronted me yet. Yet....

But back to the topic at hand -- eHarmony. First off, any online dating site that rejects people should be illegal. You know those Match.com ads that ask if you've been rejected by eHarmony? Well, it actually happens. It happened to my co-worker, Sugar (another Operation 2012 operative). Granted, she admits that she wasn't exactly emotional stable at the time she signed up, but still -- no one should receive an email after taking the 40 minute personality test, saying "there's a certain segment of the population we don't feel comfortable matching." That's just wrong.

That should have been my first red flag. But no, I went ahead and completed the eHarmony profiling. I should have seen the second red flag when this devil site matched me with a friend from Boston after only a few days. But no, I kept faith.

Less than a week after I posted my eHarmony profile, I got matched with a guy who lives in Virginia, works for a Christian humanitarian nonprofit and, guess what, shares the same real name as Lurker. WTF?! I fell out of my chair, immediately deleted my eHarmony account and ran down the hall to tell Sugar. I mean, really!? How is it possible that I got matched with two men that I know? The whole point of online dating is to expand the pool of available men! I'm online because I don't want to date any of the men I currently know!

So I'm down to two online dating sites -- Match and Chemistry. Which are pretty much the same thing. I finally took the plunge and bought a 3 month subscription to Match a couple days ago. So far, not so bad. I've had 307 views, 14 winks, and 20 emails. Of course, eight of the 20 emails were from the same guy. He was immediately deleted from my profile. sigh.

But my online dating concerns don't end there. Back in October, the Four Seasons ventured out for a night of speed dating. It was a fabulous story, but unfortunately, it ended in a rather awful date with SpeedDateBoy. Interestingly enough, however, I had posted my profile through the speed date site and received an email from a guy that sounded pretty cool. I replied but then never heard back, so I gave up.

Well, lo and behold, this same guy stumbled across my profile on Match, recognized me, and emailed me the cutest note -- something along the lines of having run into me in another online dating life and hoping that he hadn't said anything to scare me away. Stalker psycho or kindred spirit? We'll see ... I think I'll email him back.



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