Back on the Trizaine

I love ice cream. And cake. And cookies. And pretty much anything sugary, sweet, and fattening. I also have trouble saying no to anything sugary, sweet, and fattening...especially in the summer when it's hot and I'm with friends and family. After a healthy dinner of Jamaican Jerk turkey burgers, zucchini and sqaush sautee, and peaches, Nakia, Robert, Michael and I ruined our health vibe with ice cream and cookies. I, of course, didn't object. I embraced! It's not like me to turn away dessert. But tonight is the end of my sordid love affair with all that is calorie-laden. Well, not ALL that is calorie-laden; I'll still have the occasional ice cream cone or slice of peach pie, but not 4 times a week. As my sister says, it's time to get back on the trizaine. Time to get back to my graham cracker and fat free Cool Whip desserts. Time to get back to my Special K bar treats. (And let's face it, I never gave up the Special K bar treats.) And time to start saying no to cake at work...that's gonna be a challenge.

Good Friends, Good Times

I've had to say goodbye to a lot of good friends in the past few months, and it's hard. I was dreading Nakia's move to Kentucky, but now since the University of Kentucky fucked her over, she'll be staying in Bawl'mer (yea!!). It's hard to see people who are like family move on...but we all have to do it, and I know that my time is coming soon (in 8 months, to be exact.) Fortunately, I know that these people have enterted my life for a reason, and will stay in my life forever. And that concludes the sappy part of this entry.
Enjoy some quality pictures from last night's going away party for James and Andrea.

I Hate Money

The life of an artist, of any kind, is usually not so fruitful in the money department. We all know this. And many artists I know get out of "the biz" because they are tired of being poor/in debt/waiting for work. For me, that is not an option. I am a born performer, and will make it my career if it kills me. That being said, of course I need (and thankfully have) a day job that pays the rent and bills- but that's about it. I love my day job- it's flexible, non-stressful, offers great benefits, and my co-workers are hilarious. But it's also at Hopkins, Maryland's second largest employer (not sure what the first is). One would think that an institution of this magnitude would be tightly-run and on top of things. Hopkins has been voted the number one hospital in the nation for years in a row. But health care has nothing to do with administration. In the admin department, I'm sure it would score very low. Simple procedures such as reimbursements or compensation for overtime take MONTHS. And I do understand how reimbursements work, because I do them. In fact, I know how important it is for someone's credit card to be reimbursed, so I frequently hand-deliver the necessary documents to the accounting department.
That being said, I've been working overtime for the past month. It's a good thing, too, because not having a monthly church job check over the summer really tightens the belt straps. Anyway, I've been working overtime, and have YET to be compensated. This sucks because A) I had to shell out $250.00 to fix my car last week, B) I have to shell out $150.00 for a recital accompanist+gas+tolls to get to the recital, C) I can't get my hair colored now (OK..not the end of the world, but this makes the 3rd time I've had to cancel the appointment b/c of finances), and D) I can't do anything social that costs money. I guess it could be worse. I know it could be worse. But I'm tired of being poor. I'm tired of sitting at home instead of going out with my friends because I don't have any money. And with the cost of gas currently raping all of us, I'm tired of not being able to hop in the car to visit friends because I can't afford to waste gas. I'm tired of deciding what I'd rather have- a new recital dress or a voice lesson. Obviously, the lesson wins. I'm also jealous of the ladies at work who buy their lunches several times a week. I'm getting sick of eating lean cuisines and spinach salads. I actually said to Ashley last night, "I know this sounds really morbid, but I wish someone at my church would die so I could sing the funeral. That's the easiest $100.00 I've ever made." Nakia always tells me I'm a stronger person for having to deal with bullshit...when exactly will this strength kick in?

Smarties

How many secretaries, errr I mean Administrative Assistants, does it take to fix a jammed copier? Turns out, 4.

FINALLY

Last night, after a crab feast that would make any Marylander, or Oklahomian (??) jealous, my cousin and his wife came to the rescue. After 3.5 weeks of not having A/C in this hellish sweatpit known as Baltimore, we are finally cooling down. My cousin gave us a window unit that he and his wife no longer need, and he even set it alllll up for us. Even though our bedrooms are still 1000000 degrees, at least the living room is cool. Maybe now I can wear some clothing in my apartment.

From the Bear's Mouth

Aaaaand more to the story:

my friend tom said it best yesterday...all we needed was a grill...it was like we were tailgating in the parking lot at the hospital...we were tossing the football around, drinkin, smokin, just no grill...hahahahaha

Drive-By

Danno, you'll be happy to know in my efforts to stalk you, that I've mapquested your address, and you're merely a 6 hr. and 19 minute drive away.

Blogworthy

I was talking to my friend Danno on the phone last night, and learned that his sister had broken her ankle earlier that day. Sucks! I bet she was in a lot of pain...but that isn't the tragedy of this tail. The real pain was finding out that Danno was asked to leave the hospital grounds for drinking a beer, while crouched behind a friend's car. DRINKING A BEER IN THE HOSPITAL PARKING LOT!!! Who does that? I guess Danno does. Apparently, and here is where I'm not 100% sure of the details, Danno's sister was inside, getting all casted up AND this was her first time ever breaking a bone, while Danno was in the parking lot with some friends, pounding a beer. As he emerged from the back of the car, the hospital security guard spotted him and asked him to leave. Danno jumped in his car, after pounding a beer mind you, and raced home because he was afraid the hospital guard was going to call the cops. According to Danno, "I flew home and starting chewing gum-n-shit cause I was afraid the cops were gonna find me." Hehehe.
So, after Danno told me this story last night, I informed him that he would indeed be today's blog star, 'cause that's a blogworthy story if there ever was one. He's a good kid....GOOD KID!

Brunchie

( Wow...scary Hilary.)
One of the nice things about living an hour away from my parents is the random Sunday brunch. Brunch is my favorite meal; well, actually breakfast is my favorite meal, but brunch is my favorite meal to have out. I love a good bloody mary, made with Absolute Peppar and rimmed with Old Bay. Although I didn't have a bloody mary today, I did have an excellent blueberry pancake and some hash browns. Yea for brunch!

Good Stuff

This is hilarious, and I now have a crush on this man.

For Jay

Mr. Jordan, you'll be happy to know that my tongue is in better shape today. I experimented last night by not wearing my night guard, and although I still have pain, there's no bleeding. Too much information?

Down the Ocean

I'm terribly jealous of Margie. She's leaving for Ocean City right after work, where she will spend the next 11 days at the beach. Away from the city fumes and heat...away from 9 to 5 days...away from bullshit. Even though I'd much rather be down the shore than down the ocean, I'm still envious. I suggested to Robert that instead of moving to New York, we take the money we've saved and go on a 4 night vacation to Prague...and get botox. Then we'd be wrinkle-free in Prague. Tempting, but no. For now I guess I'll have to settle for weekend daytrips and the occasional dinner out.

Freakin' Heck

I'm falling apart. Something always hurts- this must be what getting older is like. Sucko!
At any rate, I have TMJ. Therefore, I have to wear a night guard when I sleep so I don't ruin my teeth/have migraines/go insane. $300.00 (not covered by insurance) later, the grinding and migraines have ceased, but now I am having a problem with my tongue. It seems that I am thrusting my tongue against the the back of my top row of teeth, rubbing against the night guard. In addition to the sores that have formed on the tip of my tongue, I also chew the sides of my tongue. That, I believe, is related to stress. So how do I remain stress-free enough not to wake up with a mouth full of blood? Good question. My sister suggested that I have a peptalk with myself. Right before I'm ready to go to sleep, I will tell myself not to chew or thrust my tongue. Because it hurts. And makes eating difficult. On the other hand, maybe this is the newest weightloss plan! Develop sores in your mouth so you can't eat anything salty, spicey, or hot! What a great idea.

Man of the House

Another good one from Margie:


The husband had just finished the book "Man of the House". He
stormed into the house and walked directly up to his wife.

Pointing a finger in her face, he said, "From now on, I want you to know that I am the man of this house, and my word is law! I want you to prepare me a gourmet meal tonight, and when I'm finished eating my meal, I expect a tasty dessert afterward. Then, after dinner and dessert, you're going to draw me a bath so I can relax. And when I'm finished with my bath, guess who's going to dress me and comb my hair?"

His wife replied, "The fucking funeral director."

Science Can be Cool

I just talked to one of the technicians in my lab, and found out that he is leaving for California, to attend Med School at Stanford. Now that's pretty badass. This is someone who I see every day, who wears jeans and teeshirts, who sat across from me at the crab feast, who listens to my jokes about his name (as he is one of the many Dans I know.) He said that he sat in on brain surgery this morning, and that now he knows he wants to be a pediatric neurosurgeon. Bad. Ass.
When I think about all the incredibly smart and talented people I know, it blows my mind. From Hanover, to WVU, to Peabody, to my desk job here at Hopkins. I'm glad I choose to surround myself with intelligent people. I'm reminded just how awesome my friends/acquaintances are when I go to a 7 Eleven in downtown Baltimore.

Alliteration Station

This is for Danno...the best bear I know.



A bear walks into a bar in Billings, Montana and sits down. He bangs on
the bar with his paw and demands a beer.

The bartender approaches and says, "We don't serve beer to bears in bars
in Billings."

The bear, becoming angry, demands again that he be served a beer.

The bartender tells him again, more forcefully, "We don't serve beer to
belligerent bears in bars in Billings."

The bear, very angry now, says, "If you don't serve me a beer, I'm going
to eat that lady sitting at the end of the bar."

The bartender says, "Sorry, we don't serve beer to belligerent, bully
bears in bars in Billings."

The bear goes to the end of the bar, and, as promised, eats the woman.
He comes back to his seat and again demands a beer.

The bartender states, "Sorry, we don't serve beer to belligerent, bully
bears in bars in Billings who are on drugs."

The bear says, "I'm NOT on drugs."


(You're gonna love this...)


The bartender says, "You are now. That was a barbitchyouate."

Charm City

On my morning drive through east Baltimore, I saw something that might shock non-Baltimore residents, but it didn't shock me. A man, not a homeless-looking man mind you, wondered into the front yard of a random house, found the hose, and turned on the water so he could have a drink. After he was through with his makeshift water fountain, he left the yard, closing the chainlink fence door behind him, and continued down Wolfe St. I COULD be optimistic and say that he was really really thirsty, and was just trying to keep himself hydrated in this heat. But chances are he had cottonmouth.

Office Vulgarity

The difference between "guts" and "balls"!
 
Guts - is arriving home late after a night out with the guys, being assaulted by your wife with a broom, and having the guts to ask: "Are you still cleaning, or are you flying somewhere?"
 
Balls - is coming home late after a night out with the guys, smelling of perfume and beer, lipstick on your collar, slapping your wife on the ass and having the balls to say, "You're next."

Quality

I can't make this stuff up, people. Yet another fine example of the single men that are out there. (From craigslist).

want implants?? I'll buy them
must be thin and want DDs I'm sane but frustrated

Fresh Out of Nice

I'm a nice person. And polite. And sincere. But sometimes I have to pretend to be all of those things just so I don't come off as the antichrist. (Robert, no comments needed.) Par example- certain co-workers, who mean well and are very nice people, just small talk me at the wrong time. Maybe I'm tired, maybe I'm in the middle of something, or maybe I'm in the bathroom and don't feel like laughing at your stupid jokes when I'm trying to pee. I can fake smile with the best of them- I am a singer after all. But sometimes it really takes a lot of energy to pretend to think something is funny.
I have one co-worker, in particular, who is SUPER nice and really means well...but I want to punch her. She always seems to ask me about a certain task I'm doing at the most inopertune time. Like in the bathroom. Or she'll ask me if whatever I was doing pertains to what she needs to know, right then and there, but follows up her demand with a compliment. Today she actually said, "You are so attractive and you always look so nice. But I'm not gay- I'm just saying you look pretty." Uhhh....Good thing you pointed out you're not gay, because judging by that 2 carat ring on your finger, I thought maybe you switch hit. GAH!
Maybe I just need more coffee....I think I woke up at the wrong time in my REM cycle. Either coffee or gin.

Swimming

It is so humid that I feel like I am swimming through the air. Literally. We have no a/c in our apartment, and it is just unbearable. I'm actually looking forward to work because at least it's cool there. People keep asking me, "Why don't you buy an air conditioner?". Brilliant! Why didn't I think of that? Oh wait...because I need to eat and pay my bills instead.
So anyone who would like to contribute to the Ryon Sisters' Stay Cool Fund, please do so. Otherwise, expect to see us in our underwear at any given time.

Boys are Stinky

It's been several years since I have been to a house occupied by a number of straight males who, by the looks of it, don't see the likes of women in their abode. Today, while helping Ashley make a reality show audition tape, I went back in time- to college days. Ashley's friend Ray is looking to break into the film industry, and he has a roommate who currently works in television. We went to Ray's to film the rest of Ashley's audition tape for "The Biz", and to edit it.
From the outside, Ray's house looks like any other suburban house on the street. The lawn needed a good mowing, but nothing too bad. But upon entering the breezeway, it got ugly fast. The entire house smells like ciggarette smoke (gag), and dust collects on every surface. There are pepsi cans upon beer cans upon empty pizza boxes lining the coffee and end tables, and enough dog hair on the carpet and floors to knit a rug. The boys' bedrooms display beds without sheets, mounds of dirty laundry, and the bathroom was a nightmare. The basement, where I am guessing they spend most of their time, was set up with two computer moniters, on opposite sides of the room, playing 24-hour Simpsons. That was actually pretty cool. I can't really say I'm surprised- men tend to live like pigs. But it has been a loonngg time since I have seen that much filth. Since most of the mens' apartments I frequent these days are occupied by homosexuals, it's a non-issue. Even the few boys I've dated in the past few years have been neat, clean, organized men. Apparently they are unicorns.
Full ashtrays and empty PBR cans may have been alright in college, but now it's a definite no. Keep that in mind, all you bachelor readers! (And I know there are a ton). This bachelorette won't be setting foot in a shithole.

My Boyfriend

I wish. This picture is tacky, and so am I for posting it.

Boo Hoo

Last night I watched "Spanglish". I wasn't sure what I would think of it, but it turns out I liked it. Adam Sandler's character developes a relationship with the Spanish housekeeper (sorry to spoil it for you), and says to her, "You are so beautiful that they should name a gender after you." GAH!! I want a boy to say that to me.

Holla at a Sistah

Check out my sister's blog (her favorite word)-

www.cityratface.blogspot.com

For Andrea

I beleive Robert's comment during the donut game at halloween was, "Eat your donuts, you goddamn pigs."

I Had Crabs

Today was my lab's annual crab feast. Yes, my boss bought crabs for his entire lab and administrative staff. I work in the most generous office ever and I will never find another job like this- ever.
At any rate, not only did we have crabs, but each person was also supposed to being a dessert. So there were 20-some desserts, crab cakes, fried chicken, salads, and soup. Tons-o-food. And anyone who knows me, knows I like to eat. Needless to say, I had been looking forward to this day for a month. After we pigged out (me mostly on the sweet stuff), we had to go back to work. It was very difficult concentrating after allllllllllllllll that sugar. Alas- here are some pictures (sorry for the random placement of them!).

5 Carats

The current debate going on in my office is: if a woman gets engaged, and the engagement is broken, should she give the ring back? I said it depends on the circumtances- if the guy f's up and screws around on me, he ain't gettin SHIT back. But, if it's a mutal parting of ways, or if I am the one breaking it off, then I would give the ring back. Margaret, my co-worker, disagreed with me. She thinks that the ring symbolizes commitment, and I agree, and that when that commitment is broken, the ring should be returned. Margie's comment was "If he screws around on me, FUCK HIM! I'm keepin the ring." Well said, Marge. I couldn't agree more.

Robert Loves Donuts

I love "Mr. Wrong" from the City Paper. Definately my favorite columnist. Too bad he only appears every other week. Anyway- here's a funny blurb from 2 weeks ago:


I went to a Krispy Kreme that was having a “Grand Opening,” and they do this thing where they light a little red light outside the store to let all the fat-asses know there’s freshly minted doughnuts to be had, ohhh. All these little shiny newborn doughnuts bobbling around in a river of hotter-than-hell oil, all floating downstream into the gaping maw of America. Shit-goddamn, that’s some good doughnut they make there at the Double-K, but on the contrary and however in my own opinion, I respectfully maintain the coffee sucks it there at the K-to-the-K. Seriously, I dunno what they do to it, but it’s like nuclear-surface-of-the-sun scalding hot, and just tastes like some, I dunno, some burnt bad-juice, and while I prostrate myself before their O.G. doughnut, I ain’t there for the coffee.

And I ain’t too proud to go get my glazey-glazed doughnut from the 2K and then walk into the Dunkin’ Donuts for some of their nice mellow coffee, and yeah, what the hey, gimme a couple of those Boston Kreme deals and one of those gigantical Apple Fritters while you’re at it, urp! Even though it is not a Donut per se, I Obey the Apple Fritter.

So anyway, yeah, donuts, they are Good, and We, the Human Race, have almost perfected them. Sure, everybody’s got their fave-rave thing with a hole in it, but we all agree on the mighty Donut as a Concept of what is Good. And yeah, it’s not Good for You, but it’s Good, and Life is Short, so lemme double up on that Boston Kreme order and pour me a big-ass cuppa coffee avec extra half-and-half and sugar, OK?

Funny

From The Onion:



TUCSON, AZ—A party is reportedly underway at 2614 Arcadia Ave., where homeowner Glen Schlatter and no one else is enjoying a six-pack of Olympia Beer. "Yeah, I'm just out here partying," Schlatter told a friend over the phone. "You oughta come down here and join in, it's a real good time." Schlatter, well-known for throwing extremely intimate affairs on weekends, is reportedly considering a whiskey purchase, which would enable him to elevate his partying status to "hearty."

Just Call Me Jane Fonda

Last night, Nakia and I went to the Canton Merritt Athletic Club for the release of Body Step 60. Body Step is a step aerobics class, but with a concentration on toning as well as cardio. It's a great workout.
At any rate, we went to this launch class in Canton, and I'm SOOO glad I didn't go alone. I used to hate working out, even though I spent the better part of my childhood in a leotard and tights. (I was a dancer, you sickos.) But a few years ago, after I decided to lose the extra 30 lbs. I had been gaining since high school, I made fitness a crucial part of my life. Now, if I go several days without hitting the gym or running, I feel lazy and guilty. That being said, I don't go to the gym to cruise or check out the mens. I go to get my sweat on and stay in shape. I'm also pretty sure that no guy is ever cruising me at the gym, so we're even.
At the Canton gym, it feels more like a meat market than a work out. TONS of good-looking people in every direction. I'm not really sure how some of those ladies are in such good shape, when all they appear to be doing is standing around looking hot. Oh well- guess it just comes easier for some!
The class was great, and the change of pace was nice, but I think I'll stick to my home gym- the DAC. I prefer to be a lady among gents who cruise gents, and if that one hot straight guy (or the unicorn, as Robert says) is working out, I'll suck it in and smile.

Outhouse

While dining with friends on Saturday night in Fells Point, I witnessed a former manager of mine taking a public piss on the sidewalk. Now, I'm not going to mention any names, lest this post should ever fall upon the wrong eyes, but I haven't worked that many places in Baltimore that happen to be restaurants. You figure it out.

At any rate, he stumbled out the front door of Red Star (it was only 8:00 PM) with his Red Sox cap on backwards, and I got a great view of his face. He ambled over to a chain link fence, unzipped, and nearly fell several times while relieving himself. WOW. I took a picture with my phone, but it's difficult to make out what is actually happening. Luckily, the 4 friends that were with me saw it too.

Classy!

People Suck

This morning marked the second time in two years that my car has been broken into. Only this time, no window was broken, and nothing was stolen. The contents of my glove box were emptied onto the passenger seat, and (thankfully) the Messiah vocal score on the back seat remained untouched. I thought that moving to a safer, nicer neighborhood would act as a shield against the crimes of downtown. Apparently I was wrong. You can't escape it.
Virtually everyone I know in this city has experience some form of car vandalization- most of those, break-ins. That feeling of being totally violated is awful. I really don't make much money- just enough to get by. My car is 10 years old, my apartment is cheap, and I live from paycheck-to-paycheck. How am I a victim? I don't have enough to be a victim. But I guess having an old car and an I-POD makes me a target. Sucks.

Cruising

I love that while we are both at work, Robert sends me webpages of nearly-naked hot men. Honestly, it made my day.

Deaf

Why do people feel the need to scream into their cell phones? Unless you are in a loud bar or large crowd of people, there is no need to yell. I can hear this woman's conversation all the way down the hall because of the volume of her voice. I'm sure the person on the other end of the phone really appreciates the ringing he'll have in his ears after they hang up.

Famous Friends

The world of classical singing is very large but very small, and very competitive. I'm sure you could play 6 degrees of separation with any classical singer and we would all be connected. I always see someone I know, or a friend of a friend at auditions, and now, I'm seeing friends and former cast mates gain some serious recognition! My friend James Valenti has been doing really well for the past few years, with winning the Met competition, doing Minnesota Opera YAP for 2 years, being at AVA for 2 years, and now he's singing all over the world (including the Salzburg festival!). He's really becoming famous in the world of opera, and I still chat with him regularly. I just googled some former colleagues to discover that one of them is doing some serious recital work in NYC and was hired to do a tour in Great Britain in the fall. My friend John is singing his first Alfredo this August with New Rochelle opera, and my former roommate did Sarasota YAP and won a spot with the Marilyn Horne foundation recital series! It's so exciting having friends who are really making a go of it singing. I like to think I'm not too far behind. I'm hoping that moving to NYC will bring me as much success as it has brought my friends.

This one's for Danno

My good friend Danno (who you can read about in an earlier post) was supposed to be coming to D.C. this weekend for work. But, some other guy in the company pulled rank, and now Danno has to stay in New England instead of coming down here to hang out with me...oh and to work. Danno was pretty pissed about the whole thing, and I am disappointed myself, but it's cool. I know we'll meet up some other time this summer and re-live memories from our time at WVU.
I said to Danno on the phone tonight, "do you realize we've known each other for 7 years? that is CRAZY!" It really doesn't seem like it has been that long. But it has been...7 years since I was a freshman in college. We also talked about how much we both loved spending time in Europe, and I am totally jealous that Danno is going to Paris and Amsterdam this fall. Maybe I can convince him to shove me in his suitcase. Hell, I'd ride in a suitcase (with airholes) to go to Paris for a week! That is if the suitcase is actually a seat on the plane, and if the airholes are glasses of wine. Bon Voyage!

Edumacation

I try to be friendly to just about everyone with whom I come in contact. And by just about everyone, I mean excluding the vagrants on the street and the hooting, harrassing construction workers on the sidewalk. I usually smile and maybe do the silent, mouthing "Hi" (as Dan pointed out, that's a common Peabody hallway-passing mechanism). But sometimes, even a smile or a mouthed "Hi" isn't enough to shake the pretentious attitudes of some people- in this case, medical grad students. There is one girl, in particular, with whom I have tried to be friendly countless times. I see her in the bathroom, I smile and say excuse me. She walks right past me with no response. I see her in the hallway, I do the silent "hi". I get nothing from her. So today, when I saw her and a group of her fellow grad students waiting in the same elevator queue as me, I didn't expect any sort of friendly exchange. I stood right beside her on the elevator, and when she needed to get past me to exit, she didn't say excuse me, and nearly pushed me out of the way. Enough is enough! I gave her the nastiest "Hold up, BITCH" look that I could muster, and I know her equally snotty friends saw me. I felt like saying, "Who do you think you are? You know what? I'm just as educated as you are- actually more becuase I've already finished grad school. I hate the holier-than-thou attitudes you people project. You're not hot shit until you prove an important experiment. So quit being such a bitch. And you're not even cute."
But I didn't. Because I'm better than that. But if it had been another time of the month...

I'm not 80 Years Old

I really hate being called "Ma'am"...I mean REALLY hate it. In fact, I never use the word when addressing a lady, as I find it generic. I've worked many-a-retail and customer service jobs and have successfully avoided using "ma'am" as a means of addressing a woman. "Miss" works OK for younger girls, although I find just a friendly hello will get attention.
I just received my confirmation call from the Dish Network for my installation this Friday, and the guy on the other end of the phone called me "Ma'am" roughly 50 times. Seriously- every other word. Interesting that he can't read English well enough to know how to spell the word "cold", but "Ma'am" just rolls right off his toungue. Grrrrr

Burb-B-Q V

Vegetarians need not read on...I'm about to dish on some serious meat!
Six years ago, two good friends of mine- Wren and Roger- decided that a good way to pass time over collegiate winter break was to Barbeque. Yes...barbeque in December. In the cold. At night. As a result, we had ourselves a Brrr-B-Que, complete with ribs, chicken quesadillas, Carolina pulled pork, and custom-made tee-shirts. It was a meat-o-licious time enjoyed by about 7 or 8 Hanoverians. Little did we know that we gave birth to what would become an annual tradition.
Every summer but one since, there has been a cookout party...appropriately named Burb-B-Que due to it's suburban location. It has been held anually in Silver Spring, MD at the home of one Roger Collins. What started out as a small gathering of friends one cold night, turned into a 3-grill kegger event, complete with beer pong, crocet, and frisbee. The menu has varied a bit from year to year, sometimes offering BBQ chicken in addition to the rest of the meat. There is always a spread of various salads and side dishes, in addition to the keg of Shiner Bock and a make-your-own margarita station. And the most anticipated event of the day is the unveiling of the tee-shirt. I have been a model for the past 2 years in the unveiling- an honor.
This year's Burb met all expectations, but was a little more "grown up"- friends of mine brought their children and spouses, and I only saw one guy do a keg stand. But it was still meat-tastic, with great beer and great friends. That's the stuff that summer's made of.

The Strife is O'er...Allelujah!

After one long day and one long night before that, the move is done! We (myself and my sister) are FINALLY in our new apartment. Praise the Lord! We did it.
I would like to take this time to thank Dan, for carrying heavy things, driving the U-Haul, and almost taking his shirt off. Dan and I moved my ENTIRE apartment (with the exception of a bookcase, dresser drawers, and a metal bathroom shelf moved by Robert and Michael the night before.) It took a long time and 2 trips, but we did it and I'm not even sore today! Miracle. Much beer and fun was had by all after the 6-hour work out of box and furniture carrying. So congratulations and thanks to Dan, today's blog star! Put that on your resume.
Now I only have 9 months before I have to do it all again...