keep your diaper on!

Conversations with my sister are generously peppered with little gems such as, "Keep your diaper on or I'm turning off Elmo!" I can't believe that this is the same girl I used to have to buy Beam Travelers for when I visited her at college. When Supreme Nephew was just learning to crawl, I remember her screeching mid-conversation, "NOOOO!" (still a little deaf because of that phone call) because he had found the dog's balls (the dog was asleep on his back) and decided they needed a good squeeze. Fortunately, the dog is good with kids and he didn't wake until my sister hollered. The dog may be hairy, neurotic and gassy (a hat trick of sorts in the doggie world), but he is gentle with the kids.

Anyways. It was a good day. I flirted, got flirted with (it ain't sexual harrassment if you don't object to it), got my flu shot, my apartment was cleaned (hiring a cleaning service is the single best decision I've made in the past 10 years), and got to hear my sister diaper my niece's Elmo doll so she'd stop taking off her own diaper. The only downside to the day is the fact that you can't find a TMX Elmo doll anywhere for less than $50. eBay is selling them for $150. Unbelievable. Remember the Cabbage Patch craze? Beyond absurd. I'll get her one next year. Its not like she'll remember or know the difference. She's happy as long as you're spinning around in circles with her; like her mother and I, she likes feeling dizzy. [I know what you're thinking now - way ahead of you there. Hell, I might as well go blonder during my next round of highlights next week.]

Re the crush. Suffice to say, I work with him. And the girl he has started dating also works for our agency. One idea would be to get all the single younger men in the agency to flirt with her. She is a catch. She just needs to realize that my crush is too old for her. I don't want to play dirty since we all work together and they are both nice people. I just want to help this situation reach its natural end sooner than later. So, keep your ideas clean but sneaky.

PS - Fantastic new time-waster from nerve.com!!!!! America's Next Top Model Congress - you get to vote on who is hot or not! Now, let us all keep in mind that DC hotness should not be rated by LA/NYC/most-anywhere-else standards, so be a little forgiving with the scores. For instance, Harold Ford should rate a 10, while Neil Abercrombie should not. Jane Harman is very hot for a 60-something. Loretta Sanchez is a little skanky for a 40-something. And, surprisingly, Mark Udall is hot in that older Marlboro man sort of way. Rowr...

[insert your favorite expletive here]

I met the perfect guy, but not before he met someone else first. Someone much younger. And incredibly nice. I'm in the early planning stages to disrupt this situation (ideas are welcome) - I want this crush to myself.

Conventional Wisdom would generally point out that if he met someone else, then he really wasn't the perfect guy for me. I would like to punch Conventional Wisdom in the kisser right about now. He really is the perfect guy.

I've decided that I'm becoming a little too hard. All inconsequential dating and no fireworks makes La Whisky a very dull girl. I've stopped trying with the online dating stuff even though that's where I really have any opportunity to meet men. The guys my age have the same sort of issues that I have (picky, impatient, suffering from the "is the grass greener over there? syndrome" and other various baggage) - making us ill-matched before the get-go.

In other news, I'm not the only one who is tired and cranky:

Me: 'sup? How is everyone?
La Sister: Home is fine. [Your niece] slept last night so I am going to keep her for another week. [As opposed to selling her to the gypsies.] [Your nephew] is a drama king. He's done two book reports now, has 10 to go. He cries bitterly when he has to do homework, stating that we "never let him play, ever!!"

perfect day, perfect dinner, perfect game, and going away for a week...

What a perfect day. I slept in, did nothing for several hours (didn't need to clean as I now have a cleaning team), cleaned up, and then went over to the Bunny's and TMS's for dinner. A wonderful dinner! The Bunny made this chestnut bisque to start with, followed by sauteed mushrooms and beef tenderloins and pork chops. He was joined by his former room mate and amateur sous chef, and one of TMS's former colleagues joined us as well. TMS had homemade vanilla ice cream with a cinnamon infusion for dessert!

Then, just when I didn't think things could get any better, we checked the status of the first game of the World Series to find that the Cards were winning 7-1. 7-1! Well, actually, they won 7-2. Utter insanity. It was shocking enough that they won on Thursday night. By all rights, the Tigers should have kicked their asses tonight. To quote the WaPo:

"The Tigers, who will send rookie fireballer Justin Verlander to the mound in Game 1, will have gone seven days without a game -- your basic bye week -- having swept the Oakland Athletics in the ALCS. For them, the extended layoff means their injured (most notably first baseman Sean Casey and ace reliever Joel Zumaya) are healed, their arms are fresh and their travel-agent duties are over.

The Cardinals, on the other hand, were extended to seven games in the NLCS by the Mets, winning Thursday night's Game 7 on a two-run home run in the ninth inning by light-hitting catcher Yadier Molina, arriving at their Detroit hotel at around 4 a.m. Friday. The Cardinals face serious questions about their health, the state of their pitching staff (which contained no better Game 1 option than rookie Anthony Reyes) and just how much fuel they have left in their tanks."

They must be running on pure adrenalin and momentum. In the 2004 WS, they basically fell apart and pretty much handed the series to the Red Sox on a silver platter (it was an exciting win, and one that the City of St. Louis was wonderful about - they invited the Red Sox fans who were standing outside to come inside the stadium to watch the last couple innings and to celebrate with the fans who had tickets - that is pure midwestern graciousness). I think that the Tigers might be back on their toes tomorrow, and anticipate they won't be pitching to Pujols anymore. It is exciting to see my hometown team fighting against so much adversity with so much heart! [Oh, getting a little misty here. Tawlk amongst yourselves. Topic: Molina is hot - even my mom thinks he's super cute. Discuss.]

I will be out of town this week to attend some training. I probably will not be able to blog while away since the only computers I will have access to will be gov't-owned, and I do not blog at work... Just comment. A lot. I'm going to the place where there are tons of firefighters - maybe there will be a couple cute ones.

To keep you in reading material, I've pulled some posts (past and present) together that I've enjoyed. Remember to pace yourselves. This stuff needs to last you till Friday night.

Baseball related:
Baseball Jesus. You must believe. (from the Bunny)
My First Big Dance
The Silver Fox waxes poetic on the 2004 World Series

Irreverent crap and time-wasters:
Finding your Inner Steve Perry Quiz (from the Bunny)
43 Pick up lines approved by the Bunny (and he is now married, but I don't think he used any of these on TMS...)

Give unwanted advice:
The Circ has a sitch with a friend and needles

Learn how to not be an asshole:
Waiterrant
Blank Top Chronicles
Gawker's Douchebag Hall of Fame Series
The 10 Dumbest Members of Congress

next thing you know i'll be hiring someone to date for me

You know you're a lazy bastard when you hire a cleaning service to clean your studio apartment.

I've meditated on hiring a cleaning lady for several months, and now that I make better money and have the blessing of my mommy ("Its not like you can't clean your own apartment, or you don't have the time to... You don't want to. That's why I hired a cleaning lady when you guys were kids."), I have hired a cleaning lady. She and her team will be here at 11:30 am tomorrow. It takes a team to clean a studio! Well, it just might take a team to clean my studio. This place is a fright. I've been pondering whether I should clean a little in addition to neatening, but the Slama advised against. I just don't want TeamCleanWhisky to fire me.

If this works out, I might just have to hire someone to date for me. It ain't right to be so apathetic during my sexual prime. Although, last night I turned my online dating profile back on and got an interesting message today... Maybe I'll have the hots for this one.

Lastly, I fucking hate the Mets. Hate them for walking Pujols. Not that the Cards are playing all that sharp, but considering all the freaking money and love that St. Louis pours into that team and their new stadium... They haven't had the sort of year this year that they had in '05, so I'm not as pissed as I was last year when they just fell apart in the post-season. During the 80's St. Louis fans (and those of every other National League team) had a motto: "We root for the Cards and whoever plays the Mets." We also used to refer to the Mets as pondscum, which New Yorkers and Mets fans found confusing, saying, "But we don't have any ponds near our stadium." For that reason alone, you all should be rooting for the Cardinals. At least they and their fans aren't totally retarded.

Update: Now that the Cards (via Molina - kind of hot for a catcher) have scored two more runs in the top of the 9th, I'm feeling slightly guilty for hating on the Mets with such ferocity. Can't help it (being a wus). Its the nice midwesterner inside me. So, now I have to say something nice about them: the Mets aren't as bad as they used to be. This has been a good and tough series; a real backbreaker. I don't envy the winner as they will be facing a very rested Detroit next week. Its been a long time since the Mets made it this far and I wouldn't begrudge them the win. I mean, did you see that catch that one outfielder (Chavez, I believe) made tonight??

Dammit! Fucking base hit and zero out. Fucking Mets. Enough with the magnanimous retroactive nice crap. Also, do they play that annoying music at all ballparks now? Or just Shea?

Update to the Update: You have to be kidding me. When did people start chanting Ole Ole Ole at baseball games? So wrong.

Oh, but wait! The hawt pitcher Wainwright and his gorgeous curveballs have won it (Okay, yes, Suppan and Molina contributed)! With the bases loaded! Quite them dramatic end! Now I feel kind of bad for the Mets and their fans. I'm an embarrassment to baseball fans everywhere.

getting older does not mean getting better

I used to be a lot better at dating and people skills. Then, I got old and was single for far too long. Result? I'm a jerk sometimes.

The most recent example included a very nice man who I went out with four times and only kissed goodnight. We most recently went out on Saturday night. During that date (which wasn't as fun as the previous three days but still fun enough to give it another go), I mentioned that I might go shopping on Sunday and might want company. He seemed interested and I told him I'd call him if I wanted company. Well, I woke up with a headache and a severe case crankiness on Sunday. Accordingly, I didn't call but did make a brief foray out. (Found the perfect Christmas gift for the Momsta at Off Fifth.) In retrospect, I could have called or texted and explained the situation, but it had only been four dates and no nooky. I guess I figured things were still pretty cazh.

Guess not, since I im'd him yesterday and relayed the aforementioned, and he kind of ended the im chat rather abruptly and I haven't heard from him since (which is out of character)... I feel badly since he is a super nice guy and I should have been more of a friend. At the same time I'm not particularly attached to him. At least, not yet. Shouldn't you be kind of attached by the fourth date? Or at least in some state of lust? Ideally, there would be a combination of those two. In any case, I obvs need to rein in my apathy if I want to continue dating.

p.s. - Someone from the Merit Systems Protection Board checked out 16 of my past posts this afternoon. Why am I not surprised that they're not that busy over there? Holla! (Which I believe either means "back at ya" or "do I know you?" to today's youth. Keep in mind that I am old!)

comment control issues

Being mostly unpopular - and glad of it - I don't get too much traffic. By proxy, I don't get too much spam in the comments section.

Earlier today, some random blogger entered a comment on yesterday's post, saying he had found my blog via backtracking his links and then proceeded to plug some inane water balloon fight thing. Maybe it was paintball. I have no idea - my mind was simply blown that someone would think I truly enjoyed that sort of shit. What I noticed is that he had nothing to say about the particular post and that he was selling his own crappy blog thinking I would be into it. A spam by any other name still smells lousy. And, now I have that Monty Python skit in my head...

Having clearly proved to be spam, his comment was deleted. This is not a bitchy thing. Its kind of like throwing away that craptastic circular you always get with your mail...

Sometimes, I will get a very random comment that isn't spam. If the comment is strange or mean, I will also delete them. If you don't like it, get over it. I mean, come on, this blog isn't worth a tinker's damn...

In case he visits again - please be advised that I am 36 (information readily available if you click on "view my complete profile") and that your target market are twentysomethings. Or teenagers. Really vapid and annoying ones. Probably mostly boys too. Anyways, please just kindly go away.

probably not dead inside

I've been on four dates with the same guy and haven't gotten any further than a chaste kiss goodnight. And I don't mind. This either means that I am not that into him or I've suddenly gone all subconsciously Rules on myself. He's a sweet man, not unattractive, tall, thinks I'm pretty funny, and we have lots in common... but he might be a little too sweet. I despise myself for not appreciating that more, for not finding that more sexy. So, I'm hanging in there. I'm not turned off by it and I still want to continue seeing him, I just don't see me throwing myself at him.

I'm pretty sure that I'm not dead inside; I cried at the end of Casanova tonight (PBS is a godsend). However, I'm worried that I enjoy my solitude too much.

Maybe I should just get us both drunk and see what happens.

wonkette finally pisses me off with their lazy-ass and lacking research skills

So, today Wonkette discussed the nefarious doings at the good ole Thompson Markward Hall, aka the Young Womens Christian Home, aka the Virgin Vault, aka the Beaver Lodge. It was my first home here in DC way back in 1995, and either that place is way more fun than it used to be or I was just blind.

First of all, pages did not live at TMH. The age range was 18-34, so college-aged through spinster only. There were certainly interns, but I don't recall seeing any resembling La Washingtonienne. She would have made that joint a tad more interesting. There is a Senate page dorm as well as a dorm for the House pages, but I do not know if they are all that debauched.

TMH was a great place to live if you were new to the area and working on the Hill. You got two square meals a day, usually you're own room, and a safe and nice place to live that wasn't crazy expensive. The first friend I made at TMH is still one of my most favorite people.

I lived there from Jan - May of 1995, and it seemed like the majority of the residents were on the way conservative side. The R's had just taken the majority. So, things didn't get much wilder than the regular bible studies. Many girls would venture way out to McLean Bible on Sundays in order to get closer to their God (and to find tolerable single men). Once, just for the chance to get away for a weekend, I tagged along on a "retreat" to the Chesapeake and discovered how very tenacious/preachy the Christian right could be... Obviously, I recovered from the attempted Stepfordization, and have been to church maybe 10 times since then (include weddings).

Maybe some of those new young Republican staffers decided to give peep shows so's they wouldn't go utterly postal and skank-out during those long hours spent opening totally critical Congressional correspondence from half-literates back home in KS. During my stay - and I believe this is still true, men weren't allowed beyond the "parlour" - not even your dad to help haul heavy crap up to your room. Also, I never saw anything fun going on in that sad, sad parlour, and I never heard about these open-blind shows for the United States Capitol Police.

What I'm trying to say is TMH used to be a nice, clean, safe and quiet place where girls could make new lasting friendships, enjoy staying in an historical home, and masturbate quietly by themselves in their dark, shuttered rooms. I am completely offended that Wonkette would suggest the place has become a peep-show! We were not those kinds of girls. We became them after we moved out. M'kay?

absurd obsessions

I've said it before and I will probably say it again: I love LOST. If you're not watching it and loving it then you're completely lacking in fun. The DCeiver posts these fantastic recaps, and I encourage you to keep up with the show via his witty witty words (and to read his other stuff, as the man is damn funny). If you lack the time to watch, then at least read the recaps. Faking being informed is, like, easy, people!

Continuing with the theme concerning being uninformed about current affairs, the Freckler and I discussed how we had both taken to reading only the headlines and first few lines of news articles. This renders us able to start many conversations but finish none (which is just about right for cocktail parties and most social situations). We should have been embarrassed to learn that the Aussie actor who joined us briefly knew far more about the state of US domestic and foreign affairs than we, but we weren't. I chalk up the lack of interest in thoroughly reading the WaPo and NYTimes to having been inundated with spineless cable and print news for the past 12 years, working for the government, and due to the existence of blogs (which make the news far more palatable [i.e., short and snarky]). Thank goodness for Wonkette.

The Slama loaned Prep to me - reliving high school usually isn't my idea of a good time, but this book is engrossing.

fairly accurate

Nerve dishes up some accuracy this week. They continue to mock my pain by highlighting what a klutz I am. Super. Just super.

"Libra (Sept. 22-Oct. 22) Where would we be today if Alexander Fleming hadn't left out his staphylococcus spores and discovered penicillin? This week, your clumsily inquisitive nature will lead to pleasant surprises. Perhaps you'll accidentally fall down some stairs while checking out that noise in the basement and be nursed back to health by a rich, attractive doctor who will lick your wounds for you. Don't be clumsy when it comes time to get intimate with this medical professional, however, lest you end up needing a dose of Dr. Fleming's discovery."

Yes, I have returned from my weekend away. This is what happened:

Ate oyster po boy at DCA, got to NYC, had serious tummy issues, slept in, went to Century 21 and found a Wacoal bra for $12, went to this cool place called Bar Jamon ("Ham Bar") and drank Spanish wine with the Slama and her man, went to a sushi bar, ate copious amounts of sushi and drank three bottles of sake (the three of us - I'm not that dissolute), passed out, fought off the cats, woke up with "sinus issues", had brunch, I think we went shopping, had mani-pedi's with the Slama and the Freckler, had light dinner with Freckler and met a friend of hers at Rice, drank some Latour wines at a tasting, saw a very strange show called The End of Cinematics at BAM courtesy of the Frecker, nearly got lost in the the NYC subway system b/c the 4/5 was not running, located the Q and found nice guy to help me navigate my way back to Manhattan, sinus issues did bad things to me, passed out, tired of fighting off the cats, let them cuddle up with me, woke up and puttered, got lovely brunch at a bistro across from Bloomies, went shopping with the Slama, snapped at the Slama while shopping, was overcome by guilt, bought pants and top for work, found the Slama, shopped more and apologized, went to a pub for nachos and beer, watched Casanova on Masterpiece Theatre (so good!), passed out with the cats (they are tenacious little jerks), woke up, went shopping, got birthday freebee from Aveda, had lovely repast, packed my stuff up, Delta Shuttle put me on an earlier flight and were super nice, got home an hour early.

I'm so tired that I kind of hurt.

finding my bliss

See that filthy little face? That is what oreo cookies do to 18 month olds. I know you must think ill of my sister to allow her babe to snack so indulgently, but how can you not when it makes her so happy.

Anyway, I want this look for me. Well, not the orange icing and oreo bits. I want my eyes to radiate the same sort of joy. I want my smile to be that perfect.

I think my bliss will be found in various ways this weekend: at the spa having mani-pedis, getting purtied up by fancy schmancy Bergdorf cosmetics mavens, finding that perfect Christmas gift for my mom, getting to spend time with favorite friends, and drinking whisky. Lots of expensive and complex single malts. You only turn 36 once. Even though the official day is Friday, the celebration will occur all weekend.

To be honest, I got my birthday gift about a week ago while visiting my charming dermatologist. While we discussed how to keep my skin clear, I asked him when I might need Restylane or Botox. He instructed me to lift my eyebrows, furrow them, smile, etc, and then informed me that I didn't need it anytime soon and to use that money on a trip. It made my week.

See you next week. 

nananananananana bat tot!

Listen up. I will not be answering the phone on Wednesday night between 9 pm and 10 pm EDT. Nothing personal, just the season premiere of LOST. I will answer the phone between 8 pm and 9 pm, but may be distracted by this other show called Jericho. I will also be packing for my weekend of sin. I'm not saying that I'll be hitting up the entire seven deadly, but hope to cover sloth (sleeping in), lust (Kiki de Montparnasse), and gluttony (booze and shopping), and to cause envy (with my Bergdorf makeover and mani/pedi).

If you are curious as to why I have not had anything to say about recent current events, well, real sorry about that. However, the blogdom seems to have it all covered. Here at Whisky Pants, I usually try to keep it light and breezy. However...

First of all, you can't cure a child predator by sending him to rehab. He is not ever curable.

Second, anyone who knew of this and didn't take action to protect those kids has some 'splainin' and resignin' to do.

Third, I somehow doubt a blue ribbon panel will be able to really figure out how to end the senseless killing of innocent schoolchildren. How do you keep crazy people from being crazy? Either you improve access to mental health services/drugs or dose the water with prozac. Sadly, you turn the schools into prisons to keep predators out. You develop zero-tolerance policies (remember the schools that developed policies that banned all drugs, to include advil?) regarding bullying. And again, you improve access to counseling and other mental health or medical services to stop bullies and to assist the victims of abuse.

Want to know how to get the world to stop hating us? No? Then stop reading: You help them rebuild their infrastructure and cities, you build schools where their children are safe and free to learn, you keep your promises, you show them compassion. You do not support the corrupted/corruptible even though they are cool with your agenda. Your agenda isn't stacked with whats in it for you. Instead, you take that agenda, cram it up the nearest idiot's arse and focus on the issues that drive zealous fundamentalism: poverty and violence. Violence only begets violence, and we should all be at least cursorily aware that being very poor sucks. So, the fact that the situation in Iraq is going down the crapper shouldn't have been a surprise to anyone. Does it really take a blue ribbon panel to figure this stuff out?

Yes, it is time for me to get away from this city for a few days and get my drink on. 

insanity

First of all, what kind of world are we living in where an attractive and seemingly capable bonafide prince can't find love? Do I want to live in that world? Seriously.

Second of all, I'm not sure I want to live in a world where a prince says he can't find love because he is always afraid that women want him for his status as opposed to who he his, and so he decides to go on national television, while fully revealing his princeliness, as a way to find his true love. He must've been behind the door when the good lord was handing out logic. Good thing he's pretty and still has his hair.

Third of all, I'm absolutely sure I don't want to live in a world where empty-headed idiots think they're going to find love on national television and become princesses. I can understand a five-year-old buying into the Disney crap, but twenty-somethings? WTF? Look here, I've been a princess from an early age. A white waspy american princess. A middle-class nightmare of a princess. I'm also acutely aware that the possibility of my marrying royalty is a bit on the remote side, national tv bedamned. I'm no Grace Kelly.

I already can't stand this show. What else is on?

so i've got that going for me, which is nice

Another nice thing about getting older is the fact that I get a card full of cash money on my birthday in the amount of my age. Actually, a couple years ago, I got the amount + 100 as Mom and Dad decided to treat me for my quarterly highlights. That was very nice. There was also the year at college when I got this fantastic amethyst ring from them... I still can't believe they mailed it to me.

I most fervently hope that my card will arrive before I depart for my weekend of libertinage and retail therapy in NYC... I need that money for drinkses.

With the cooler weather, I've been indulging in whiskies again... Balvenie and Lagavulin last night.