Hurricane I

I have now enjoyed a baseball game. I'm officially an American again.

On the other hand, it was the annual Congressional baseball game, where the Republicans play the Democrats in a fantastic display of no athletic talent. The Democrats all sit on the left side of the field, and the Republicans all sit on the right. Sometimes I had trouble remembering whether to root for the batting people or the throwing people, but overall I had a great time. Mostly, I think, because I knew who all the players were. This may also be why I like college sports.

Case in point: Rick Santorum gets up to bat (The man, not the frothy mixture). The Democrats boo him. I understand this. The next time he gets up to bat, we start chanting "Bob Casey." I understand this as well. Thus, I both boo'd and chanted with relish. (Someone also made the mistake of giving me "bam bam" sticks, which were great fun. It's worth noting that I avoided bam-baming the sticks on other people, mostly because I avoided the overpriced beer. Though also not drinking, The Boy had no such reservations. Alas. It reminded me of Michael's favorite joke). I understood the rest of the game as well, which surprised me, but it was the caring that made the difference. That, and the Congresswomen getting up on the dugout to lead the cheers.

Other News: Mr. Picky's girlfriend (she needs her own name, but I'm too tired to think of a good one) fell outside while chain-smoking and spent the weekend in the hospital.

Also, Mr. Picky is in a much better mood these days, and it's not because I vacuum (ew). In other words, I get another month to find a new place to live, so I don't have to live in the U-Haul truck. And we're getting a new third roommate.

1. I love it when The Daily Show talks about things in DC. I'm so all over that shit. On the other hand, when they talk about things in the rest of the world, I'm totally lost because I haven't read a real paper in ... weeks? Alas.

2. Mr. Picky has a girlfriend. They had a sleepover last night. EEeeeeeeeewwwww!

3. My first conversation with her at 7:45 this morning, as she opened the door from inside his room just as I went to the kitchen to make my breakfast:

Her: I squished a truffle in my purse.

Me: Uhm-hm. (Inside thought - "Chocolate truffle or mushroom truffle? Wait, did she come out of his room? Did they have a SLEEPOVER! EW! Abort! Abort! Run Away!")

4. But I suppose this does mean that Mr. Picky's allowed to buy all the "gay" stuff from Ikea, since he can blame it on her. I don't think I blogged about it, but on my first trip to Ikea to buy my bed, he told me that he like to buy these "gay" things, but he needed to wait until he had another girlfriend, so he could blame it all on her. He also thinks the 3 foot lamps are floor lamps for midgets. Seriously.

5. Working on the Hill is just like being in a University. We have ID Cards. We have the plastic debit card. We have "Student Health." We have Rand. The way to attract people to your event is free food. We have random Administrators that do odd things, like restrict when I can throw things away. I had a meeting tonight that BEGAN at 9pm. And we have State Societies and Caucus that are very similar to sororities. They even play each other in softball.

6. I am a giant nerd. With the exception of AV Club and Chess Club, if it was dorky, I probably did it and held some kind of leadership office doing it. As part of my new job responsibilities, I have to learn html. Then my transformation will be complete.

7. I am taller than a significant number of women in this town. But their shoes are usually cuter.

8. I am taller than a surprising number of men in this town. I'm fairly sure my shoes are cuter. I'm also fairly sure that they were all on the Chess Club. And they stare at my breasts... through a suit.

9. The party does actually get together to discuss the party line. It's called a "caucus meeting." I was fascinated by it. (See #6.)

10. Note to Job Seekers: When asked for a writing sample, do not provide your thesis. Do not send your last 20 page paper. 3 pages. Max.

Things I Do Do:

-Go To All The Free Food Receptions
-Drink The Free Booze At the Above Receptions
-Come Back To Work and Email Constituents About Their Tours Slightly Flushed Off of the Red Wine At Above Receptions
-Watch Jeopardy On Congressional TVs While Doing Above Activities
-Get Paid Overtime For Above Activities

Things I Do Not Do:

-Answer the Phone After 6pm. Suck It, Constituents.

I got a job. A real job. A job with a salary, and benefits and everything. And (the best part) it's the job that I wanted. I am proud to say that your tax dollars are now going into my bank account. Well... not a lot of your tax dollars, let's be honest. I'm keeping the other job waiting tables.

The downside is that I'm exhausted. I started a week and a half ago, but after last time, I wanted to wait to talk about it until all the papers were signed. And then I was too tired to care, and I just suck.

I also haven't read the paper in a week and a half, nor have I really cared. I do, however, know all about the Hyde Amendment to the UN bill and the funding cut for PBS (you should seriously call your Congressperson to protest this, as PBS rocks. Unless you live in the Xth District of My State, and then I don't care.) And I also know all about the supply room on the Hill were I take more tax dollars and buy office supplies. I now have lables for all the colors of the rainbow.

It would be more interesting to talk about it when it happened more recently, but when I get home, I'm so tired, all I want to do is drink some form of alcohol and sleep. I don't even watch TV. I have no idea what Buffy's been up to.

I'll try not to fall off the planet again. At least it was for a good reason.

Computer too tired to work. India too tired to care. Enjoy.

I love the ad watch. It makes commercials so much more enjoyable.

Since I can't post at work, here's a pre-work link to a Slate article about radioactive cat litter. (It's actually not all that interesting, but I love the title.)

So, I'm bitching about my shitty roommate again.

It's 95 degrees, and he hasn't put in my air conditioner yet (Yes, I was stupid enough to live in an apartment with no central AC.)

What did he do today? I don't know, he sat in his air conditioned room with the door closed all day. I can only assume this is to keep the cool air in.

I will kill him. Or sleep in the kitchen with the door to the freezer open.

-I won $65 at poker. You know how you have to know when to hold 'em and when to fold 'em? Well, I know when to fold 'em, but sometimes that time isn't the end of the tournament and I'm screwed. So really, this is a triumph of not falling asleep. And considering the amount of liquor that was involved, this is twice as impressive. So, at $20 per game, and three games I've played, I've now net'd $5. Woohoo!

-I made it to work today. Granted, it was an hour late, which made it 4pm, but I made it. This is a triumph because I had to hold 'em until 6am. And then I made good money without having to work my ass off. Woo!

-When one of the bartenders drove me home at midnight, he called me back to the car to tell me that a girl he dated used to live in my room, and had similar horror stories of Mr. Picky's weirdness. And since he dated her, he himself had stories. This is twice now that I've run into someone kind of random who has either lived here or visited here who has stories that begin with, "Oh my God, does that crazy guy still live here?" Sometimes I feel like I'm the crazy one, so having it reinforced that it's really not me is a good thing. I'm so excited to be moving out.

-I found this (thanks Meagan!) and I laughed my ass off.

-ONE MORE I FORGOT- My fortune cookie from the weekend: "You should be able to make money and hold on to it." I choose to view this as a "fortune" cookie and not a "sarcasm" cookie, thus the triumph.

Today, I received my 30 days notice from Mr. Picky. On a deeper level, I am not surprised, especially since I have already been looking for other housing.

I am a little pissed off, since he's been so passive aggressive about the whole thing. I left late this morning for work, it seemed like he was deliberately taking his time leaving after me. I suppose this is so he could put the notice on my door.

When he came home, I asked why I'm being kicked out, and he basically told me it's because there is no "improvement" in my
cleaning, and I never offer to help clean other things. I told him that there is no way I'd offer to do anything else, since he doesn't like the stuff that I already do, and I'm not willing to ask to be yelled at. Additionally, I did tell him that I don't like him going through my cabinets (which he denied, I skipped the part that I've seen him do it) or coming into my room (also denied, but how else does my stuff get moved around?). I also mentioned that I get frustrated that he doesn't listen to me, which, ironically, I'm not sure he heard since he was trying to talk over me when I said it.

My main problem now is that I really have no incentive to keep from pissing him off in the next month. Not that I'll go out of my way to do it, but I'm also not going out of my way to placate him like I usually do. Or hide from him.

So, unless he finds two people in the next month, he will have two empty rooms come July. And there's a reason. He seriously needs to live alone.