Tuesday, April 18, 2006

Not sure if I'm moving on, but there's surely motion...

The reality of being single has now hit me with serious g-force (reference for my high school friends and first boyfriend, who's at M.I.T. getting his master's in advanced engineering of some kind... I remember the days when I aspired to educate myself beyond undergrad, and those days, friends, have fled faster than the ex-boyfriend did, the college ex-boyfriend, that is...)

Here are the warning signs that always remind me "Hey you, you've been single for awhile!":

  • obsessions with completely unattainable men. Celebrities mostly. Josh Hartnett, George Clooney, Wilmer Valderrama (WHAT?!? I KNOW!!! I don't get it either), that hot latin looking guy from Love Actually who hooks up w/Laura Linney... And goodness, could someone give me a break? EVERY GUY I hit it off with when i'm out introduces me to his amazing girlfriend five seconds later. Awesome. At least my heterosexuality radar has improved in functionality...
  • obsessions with primetime television. I practically foam at the mouth when I see the month-long build up to a mid-season new series premiere. Needless to say, I have added "What About Brian" to my list of 8,000 weekly TV shows to which I pledge undying devotion, because really, I have nothing else to commit to - save for a few bamboo plants. And I'm a commitment ADDICT. Ughhhhhh... ...and I wonder why I'm single.... but thank god for TiVo.
  • Increased boozage. I got out of work early on Friday and immediately started calling all of my coworkers and friends in the area leaving messages, "Yo! I'm off the clock - wanna grab a beer with me at [insert local microbrewery here]?" I guess I didn't realize it was noon at the time... (I lie to you - I completely realized it was noon....) OH, and the drunk dialing, goodness, I am still embarrassed with myself from my drunk dialing MARATHON two months ago - yes, two whole months, the guilt just won't quit me.
  • Magazine addictions. I flip through the pages and read of women recounting their experiences - experiences which I haven't had for months, and just reminisce. "Yes, self, I remember when I used to [experience that thing]. Sigh. You know the song "Age of Aquarius?" I've changed the words to "Age of Vicarious." Every time I hear it playing - car radio, out, wherever... I sing my poor little broken heart out: Vicariouuuuuussss - Vi-car-ee-oussss...

Can you tell by the bulleted format of the above list that I haven't quit my job?

Yup, still can't believe that this is what the "real world" is all about. What a f***ing bummer.

So if anyone knows any slightly nerdy, hysterically funny, baby-faced, single, and nice guys, hook a girl up.

(NEEZY, I POSTED!!! You are elated. No doubt.)

Tuesday, January 17, 2006

Quarter-Life Crisis

So I was told at work yesterday that I can expect to stay on the same dead-end project for the next year. A YEAR!!! I've only been working in the "real world" for 5 months, and have had 4 projects in that time, and now I have to devote a YEAR to ONE gross project?

Here's what happened: my employer told me "You're going to get a security clearance!" I thought, "FANTASTIC!" Everyone always says that clearances get you wherever you want to go. I must decisively assert that I DO NOT concur. Steer clear of clearances. Don't do it. You'll find yourself in more than just a pigeon-hole. It's more like a dungeon really. Employees at my firm who have clearances are stuck with TERRIBLE jobs, forevermore (I'm from Bmore so forgive the Edgar Allen Poe references.)

My friends at work who smoked pot in college get to do whatever awesome projects they want, since they can't get security clearances. And since I was a good girl - well - prison calls. Can you believe it??? Smoking pot in college actually means you'll be happier at work!!!

The deal at this year-long prison camp is:
  • no internet access
  • no cell phone (they seize it when I walk in the door)
  • no email (i refuse to get a BlackBerry)

UGHHHH!!!! I just have to WORK, actually work, ALLLLL day? No mental health breaks to check the weather? Look up a hot actor on IMDB? Hang out on Instant Messenger so I can remind myself that I still have a life?

Conclusion: I wish I'd smoked more MJ.

What am I going to do. I'm contemplating leaving the firm - I mean, six months doesn't look THAT bad on a resume does it? I never thought I'd be a job jumper, but this just sucks.

Monday, January 09, 2006


Lots of bridges in DC, sure, fewer than most other landmark cities in the US, but I feel as if my decision to leave my Maryland roots (by way of Baltimore, then 4 years in College Park) and travel over the American Legion bridge (I can hear the resounding groans of rush hour commuters) may have been a mistake...

So I'm a NoVa yuppie, junior varsity style since I'm not in Clarendon/Court House/Ballston. It's Fairfax County for me - where my income tax dollars actually subsidize GOLF fees. Unbelievable. Yup, there's out of control NoVa fact #1: us taxpayers pay for YOUR golf game. Enjoy, you overprivileged good ol' boys. (No, I am not obscenely leftist, but COME ON people!)

So I'm 22. I'll be 23 in four months, oh god (says the agnostic). Heartbroken? Yes. Discontent with career choice? Yes. Hater of NoVa traffic? Yes. I miss my crabcakes. I miss my harbor. I miss that Baltimore County environment, adorned in pink & green, bows in ponytails everywhere. I miss being able to get into the city in less than ten minutes. My friends won't come to NoVa - they think it's like sailing around the southern tip of South America - impossible. Have some faith friends, like Sir Francis Drake did!

I can't walk to any bars, can't walk to any metro, gotta do the pay-to-park at the metro thing (such a peeve!), gotta risk driving home slightly... compromised. But I like being able to park in my own driveway, park at the grocery store, etc.

Too much to deal with in one "semester." Makeshift excel budgets, getting dumped (b/c he too is pissed off at the real world), driving 15 minutes to the closest gym, and spending $1200/yr on commuting costs. Dammit metro, you are a rapist of wallets and human patience alike. Get it together already.

So my first question for all of you is this: Stay in suburbia or move into Varsity Yuppieland?