mmmmm... caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaakkkkkeeeee...

The Supreme Niece turns one today. I love the look on her face. She's all, "carbs are my gods!" Lest you fear for her health, there's an angelfood cake under all that delicious icing. And she loves her some strained peas.

And, like her skinny big brother, she's going to lose that baby fat as soon as she gets to walking hardcore. Which will be as soon as her legs aren't so fat. Our little Gordita Bella.

In other news, I might be changing jobs soon. While I've been pondering a change for a little while, all it took was a casual remark to a colleague yesterday to set the proverbial ball a-rolling. And by rolling I mean I received a tentative job offer with a promise that I'd be promoted to the next level at my one-year mark. It all happened in less than 24 hours. It really is all about being in the right place at the right time. If only dating was as easy. 

silk suit, black tie...

We've had a couple good recommendations on my awful music mix: Eddie Murphy's Party All The Time (just nauseating, Dan - good job!) and the Julio Iglesias/Willie Nelson duet To All the Girls I Loved Before.

I was also thinking that we could use something like Lets Get Physical by Olivia Newton John and Sharp-Dressed Man by ZZ Top. I dunno - keep sending ideas. Again, the songs don't have to be awful all by themselves, it's the overall effect I'm trying to achieve.

In online dating news, the meetic.com international site continues to amuse me. I've gotten a message from a flight attendant who will be in town next Monday or Tuesday and wants to meet for coffee. His photo is pretty hot. And not enough information is provided for me to cast aspersions on his personality/education/language skills. On the creepier side, got a message from a dude in Miami (cubano) who wants me to consider su casa as mi casa. Good lord.

Chemistry continues to be craptastic. Trust me people, don't pay extra to use that site.

please, louise, pull me offa my knees

Some people take music very seriously. I am not "some people".

For the past couple days I've been pondering the creation of a completely awful music mix. The kind of stuff that you would usually barely tolerate, but would sing along to if you had a few beers in you. Or, if you were really perverse, you would simply enjoy the awfulness anyway. Like me.

Now, perfectly good songs can be thrown into the mix as long as there is no continuity.

My draft list (not sure what to name this yet) includes:

Copacabana by Barry Manilow
Footloose by Kenny Loggins
It Takes A Big Man to Cry by the Fabulous Thunderbirds
Song 2 by Blur
You Never Even Called Me By My Name by David Allan Coe
Goldigger by Kanye West
A Love Song (From A Different Point of View) by Jimmy Buffet
The Politics of Dancing by Re-Flex
Caribbean Queen by Billy Ocean
Baila Me by The Gipsy Kings
One Bourbon, One Scotch, & One Beer by George Thorogood & the Destroyers
Tuff Enuff by the Fabulous Thunderbirds (so good we're going back for seconds!)
You and I by Rick James
Take Your Mama by Scissor Sisters
Redneck Woman by Gretchen Wilson
I Like It by The Blackout Allstars

I'd entertain suggestions.

multicultural bunnies

My plan to have a child named after me is slowly coming to fruition.

Last night, the Thirsty Bunny asked the Multicultural Spitfire to be his in holy matrimony, and she accepted. After I first introduced these two and they were in the first throes of love, they unabashedly thanked me for having introduced them. I took advantage of this weak moment by requesting, "Just name the first child after me, 'kay?"

Fortunately, Whisky Pants is just a nom de plume. My real name is much nicer (albeit rather WASPy). Although, if their first child is a boy he's in for a real treat in grade school.

[All joking aside - I adore these two people and am so pleased! Now we just need to get the Bunny a job closer to DC so we can take greater advantage of his wingman services...] 

still itchy but afraid to scratch

The title applies to two different concurrently running events: my contact dermatitis (must be the damned Cheer laundry detergent) and online dating.

The new dermatologist, an efficient man, checked me out and gave me a prescription for desonide lotion .05%. I think I need more percentage - he's new so he hasn't yet realized that I am prone to rashes and hives (as I am sensitive, obvs), and therefore need the top-shelf ointments. I'm still itchy and red, but the hives are under control. The near-constant scratching of my neck and jaw must be so attractive.

On the other hand, still have not called the chemistry guy. No new emails from the meetic international guy. But, I got an email from the nerve guy that I winked at right before I turned off my profile! Of course, he asks if I'm into sexy shoes straight away which means he can't be taken seriously. On the other hand, I could use something regularly casual.

getting by on charm and good looks

I'm fortunate to have two family members visiting DC this week; my cousin is here now for a conference, and Most Beloved Sister of Whiskypants arrives tomorrow (sadly, Supreme Niece and Nephew will not be coming). This is my cousin's first visit to DC, so I met her up at the Capitol to give her a little insider's tour. For those of you not in the know, I used to work there, and now work with Congress as a legislative liaison for a federal agency. Long ago, when I worked for the House of Lords, er, I mean the US Senate, I used to give the VIP tours for the Senator. Sorry to say, I've forgotten most of the tour schpiel.

However, I got my cousin onto both the House and Senate floors today. That's right. No milling about with the dirty masses in the galleries for my family! Unless you work for the Senate, this is quite an achievement. My cousin was way impressed. How did I work such magic? I politely inquired with the US Capitol Police whether my id would allow me to show my cousin the House floor during recess. The officer informed me that I could not, but that he could take us to both. He then escorted us from the House floor over to the Senate floor. And told amazing stories. I owe him a thank you note, and his bosses an "attaboy" note.

pot pourri

First, a public service announcement:

I was out shopping for new bath accessories and a medium-sized area rug tonight, and discovered a new mecca for home decor crap - Home Goods. It is owned by TJ Maxx and located out at Bailey's Crossroads. Near the World Market. I still heart World Market, but their prices have gone up a bit.

Second, the chemistry.com guy has sent me his phone number. Now I gotta cowgirl up and call him. I'll do it tomorrow so as to put off a potential meeting for as long as possible. My inner cowgirl still isn't feeling the hogtie-ing urges.

Third, I'm corresponding with a Dutch guy from meetic.com. And I'm okay with that. We've traded about three emails so far, and still no question about what we do for a living. Wheee!

whoo hoo!

You know, it has been a while since I experienced the sense of triumph that Supreme Nephew is demonstrating in this recent photo... Lucky little cutie-pie bastid.

I need some more true whoo-hoo moments. Pronto. 

je ne parle pas francaise (i still don't speak a lick of french)

The chemistry.com thing is such a disappointment. The majority of the matches they send me are "separated" and sad-sackish. I delete the separated guys immediately as well as the ones who can't take the time to provide a short narrative statement (only slightly less iffy than the guys who don't provide photos). I also delete the ones who use the LOL and ROFL without discretion. I can handle an LOL about every 3 or 4 messages (meaning I'm visibly cringing, but not gagging). I prefer LMAO, but only if used judiciously (hardly ever).

Am I the only one out there who thinks LOL is effing stupid? I really really hate that acronym and have come to think it is a sign of serious dumbassedness. Over the past few years I've also come to suspect the use of emoticons. They also annoy me.

I must be pmsing.

So, the only chemistry guy that I've been emailing has asked if I would like to get together when he returns from some trip. I'm not excited about it. Well, except for the fact that he has dogs, since I like dogs and can't have one where I live. Fortunately, I have family in town this week so I can put it off for at least till the weekend. I'm enjoying my break from dating. I might even extend it into April.

The meetic.com men are fair-to-middlingish; lots of associates degrees and guys in their 40's making not even half what I make. Also, many of them live on another continent, which makes dating them difficult. I had some older French dude start out a message to me with, "hello pretty princess!" Holy sacrebleu, Batman.

you know things are bad when your horoscope makes perfect sense

This must be the first time Nerve got things right:

Libra (Sept. 22-Oct. 22) I'll never understand why people think perms are okay. Sure, I got one during a less auspicious phase in my development, but how has this hairdo delusion endured? This week, people around you will seem to agree unconditionally on everything from those designer-vagina surgeries to which kind of fat content is bad and which kind doesn't matter. Taking a more nuanced longview, you'll feel slightly adrift. Just remember that majority opinions are not necessarily the right ones, as evidenced by recent presidential elections, Skating With Celebrities and the continued existence of the permanent.

Weird.

So, the Meetic online dating website takes forever to approve your damn profile and photos. Regardless, this did not keep some Spanish guy from instant messaging me last night. My spanish skills got a bit of a workout, which was fun, and he did not ask any untoward questions. (Which is good because my somewhat extensive Spanish vocab does not cover las palabras sexuales. I'd hate to start embarrassing myself in more than one language.) Today, the site sent me a list of 20 monsieurs. From France. Je ne comprende pas francaise, y'all. But I could learn.

Regarding the family, I miss them. I really miss La Niece Supreme. She's at that age (about 15 days from age 1) where she doesn't want to talk on the phone anymore. I need to get one of those webcam/mic thingys stat. One of my favorite colleagues has returned from maternity leave and her child is installed at the daycare in our building, so I do have access to a cute baby but it just isn't the same. Ya know?

the international language

Ok. To start with, I am still on dating hiatus. However, I have been doing a little research. I was thinking that it would be wicked hot to date a man with a foreign accent. I despair that I'll win the DateAHotScot contest (despite entering three times already) and I've encountered precious few foreigners online, so googled "european online dating sites" and found something called www.meetic.com. Welcome to my new hobby! All I need to do is install a webcam/mic and skype my way into an online long distance relationship! It'll be the new Niagara Falls gf/bf fallback for the 00's!

is this a sign?

Oh, how I could use a fwb right now.

Libra (Sept. 22-Oct. 22) If you haven't seen Freeway: run, don't walk. In fact, drive. On the freeway. Because this week, what you assume will be predictable and obtuse will turn out to be Spectacular! Engaging! And Electrifying! Put aside preconceptions and allow yourself to be carried along by unexpected thrills, be they a shit-talking Reese Witherspoon beating the hell out of everyone, or the kind of mind-blowing orgasm you used to have when you were sixteen.

i've lost my equilibrium

Since Christmas, I've busted my ass a total of four times. Four times. I've never been particularly graceful, but this is a new record. Be glad that I took the photo with the bandaid.

So why does this keep happening? First of all, I have weak ankles. Second, I'm rather bosomy (top heavy). Third, sometimes I wear stupid shoes. Lastly, and perhaps this is why I've been suffering a plague of spazzismo, I've been suffering from chronic sinusitis. It has thrown off my balance and turned me into a complete (and slightly nasally) doofus.

After informing a friend at work, she replied somewhere along the lines of, "you better get that under control before you start dating again." 

weak

I'm so ashamed.

Yesterday, I found myself perusing the nerve personals, reactivated my profile, and sent one of those damnable winks to a man. This afternoon I came back to my senses and hid my profile again. I'm just not ready. Not emotionally, or physically, or mentally ready.

Moreover, I find myself longing for those sorts of situations where you meet people naturally. Why can't we meet people naturally anymore? As in, at the coffee shop, in the bookstore, at a friend's party, standing on the metro platform? Is it because we're too absorbed in our sudoku puzzles and blackberries? Do we avoid rejection by avoiding the opportunity for rejection? Yes. And I've been guilty of all these things, too.

Back to the self-imposed online dating exile. Well, except for chemistry.com since it really doesn't count (divorced single dads who live 40 miles away=not viable) as online dating.

resolve? what resolve?

I haven't been completely honest about taking a break from online dating. You see, I'm still flirting with the chemistry.com stuff. But, I've never actually met anyone from it, and have only emailed two fellows so far. Online dating is highly addictive.

For the unitiated (and ignorance is bliss, my friends), chemistry.com is match.com's attempt to snag a part of the eHarm market (more long-term, less nooky-only). They're not making me pay for the services right now, so I don't feel so bad about participating. The way it works is that they send you matches based on a highly scientific personality analysis. You don't get to search for possible matches. Half the guys on it don't have photos, which leads me to think that they're either married or total trolls.

Like eHarm, the process starts out with a few multiple choice questions and then onto a couple open-ended questions. One man's first question to me asked whether I wanted to have children and, if so, how many. He's 38, and apparently his clock is ticking. Mine, however, appears to be broken - as much as I love my niece and nephew, I really really fear pain and I have enough trouble losing weight as it is. I'm also not unaware that, as I get older, the probability that I will be able to get pregnant and have a healthy child diminishes. And, good lord! Shouldn't we have gone on a few dates first and gotten drunk together before that question even arises?!? I'm no baby-factory!

Yet, I'm still checking to see what sort of losers chemistry.com throws my way every day. Is there a 12-step program for online dating?