Stop the clock

As I look around my neighbors' apartment and realize that they are moving out, I start mentally cataloging my own possessions--computer, desk, books, clothes, oh god, clothes alone could fill up my entire car--it once again hits me: the very short amount of time I have left in DC. At this moment, I have mixed feelings about leaving. These last few months have been challenging, nay difficult, but also really rewarding. Part of me realizes that the spectre of my leaving has upped the ante socially as well as professional which is what allows for a higher yield of rewarding experiences, but the other part of me takes a moment of pause.

Ok, moment over. I'm going to London. I own this whole experience and I have done (or I'm in the process of trying to do) everything that I need to make it a success: I secured funding, housing and votes of confidence. It's just that the summers in DC tend to go by so fast. This was true when I was an intern, and it's true now. Every weekend is booked and weekdays seem to be catching up. Why we make so many plans during the months when this city's climate is at it's most vile I will never know, but that's what happens. There are too many fun activities, trips and plans to make, but the farther you plan ahead, the faster time catches up with you. I'm really looking forward those those 25 glorious days of unemployment, but if I know one thing about unemployment it's that those days slip away from you even faster than the working days.

Not that I'm complaining.

Bright Light City

"If you see it once/you'll never be the same again" --Elvis Presley, Viva Las Vegas


First, some housecleaning: the last four weeks sucked. They were busy and annoying and kept me from having a life and going to the gym and doing laundry and all the other little things that make life pleasant and satisfying. Some good things happened, but mostly it was a sprinkling of good and a smattering of bad. But now that my BIG event is over and notice has been given, expect to hear from my ass a whole lot more.

Now I say we move on and talk about what's really important: Vegas.

I have been trying to make and follow a list of the "30 things I need to do before I turn 30," but one of the only promises I've been motivated to follow through on was going to Vegas. When Amela called me last January and said, "I'm getting married!" I knew that that would be the perfect excuse. Fast forward a year and half and 6 bridesmaids and 1 bride-to-be descended on the the City of Sin for a weekend of sleeplessness, debauchery and matching candy necklaces.

Now, unfortunately what happens in Vegas mostly stays in Vegas so I will just give you some tidbits and let your nasty, nasty imagination fill in the rest:

*Eiffel tower
*Darryl Strawberry's son
*Grey Goose vodka
*The Thunder Down Under
*Hottie whistle
*The Pink Taco
*Boob money
*White dresses
*VIP Suites
*Yellow, stretch Hummer Limo

I'm back! Ha!