DC Cookie

Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Sister Geekfest Part I

spaz kristy and jess
Lil Sis and Cookie spazzing out.

Speaking of geeks - meet my Lil Sis. I am smart, she is smarter. I am a nerd, she is nerdier. I went to UVA, she went to Duke and Harvard Business School (well, okay, is currently attending). She's younger, but interestingly, I look up to her. We have the best relationship two sisters can have (she forgave me for that 'beating her over the head with a hard cover Bible' incident, and the tale I told her while babysitting her that snakes can crawl up house walls and through windows, thankfully). With veritable geek pride, I'm instituting a series of dorky sister stories. The first:

As many of you already know, my family moved to the US just before my senior year of high school. To graduate, I was required to play catch up in US history and was enrolled in the 10th grade introductory class (if it had been a Canadian class I would have said Grade 10). Thankfully, Lil Sis was also in my class. Growing up together, Lil Sis and I amicably competed in just about everything. We were never envious of each other, we just set high standards and encouraged each other to excel. History class was no exception. After each test we’d look over to each other and say, “What’d you get?” The answer was never less than 90, but our test scores frequently varied by a few points. Whoever got the higher grade would smirk playfully for a moment. At the end of the first marking period (of which there were four), I had a 96.3 which was rounded down to a 96 (an A). Lil Sis had a 96.7 which was rounded up to a 97 (an A+). Now most people would be thrilled with an A (which I was), but I had been outwitted by my sister and had to step it up. The next marking period we both received A+s. At which point, our teacher, exasperated, said to the class “You guys have been taught American History for your entire lives, but yet, the two Canadians have the best grades…I just don’t get it.” Yeah, that one made us popular...

By the third marking period, Lil Sis and I were still excelling. With the tables slightly turned, she had an A and I had an A+ for the period, but there were many students who were doing poorly. The teacher gave the students the opportunity to do an extra credit activity to boost their grades. A few days later, Lil Sis walks into our teacher’s office, extra credit assignment in hand. He looks at her quizzically and says “you didn’t have to do this, you have an A.” Her response? “I know, but Jessica has an A+.” That might have been the first time he laughed out loud all year.

We both ended the year with an A+ overall; and I thank Lil Sis for helping make geek-dom just that much more fun. Love you, Beautiful!

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Be There!

Don't forget Wednesday's blog-a-rific happy hour[s]. With blog superlatives (god we're dorks), and charitable donations for Caravan4Christmas, it's a 'can't miss' event.


Time Capsule

I don't remember doing this, but apparently when we graduated high school our entire class filled out a piece of paper entitled 'Class of 1995 Time Capsule.' I missed my 10 year reunion this past weekend, but my roommate brought my time capsule home with her. This made me crack up:

Where do you see yourself in the year 2005? 'As an executive investment banker in Paris, married to a French police officer and mother of a brand new chubby son.'

I hope I was joking...

Monday, November 28, 2005

Hometown Heartache

Sometimes, I just miss Canada.

Did anyone watch the Grey Cup (I already know DC Sports Chick's answer)? Shamefully, I didn't. ESPN highlights showed that it was an exciting game. Eskimos beat the Alouettes 38-35 in overtime. Back in the homeland, we used to have Grey Cup parties, and I'd bet my Dad $1 on the game by picking the team with the better uniform. I usually won. Canadian football is always exciting. There are only 3 downs, which means a lot more passing. And you have to give the players credit - most of them have second jobs. Granted, they need additional income, because the CFL salaries are a pittance. Accountant by weekday, Quarterback by weekend. But the guys who are playing (often in the middle of a blizzard) are doing so purely for the love of the game (and the cheerleaders).

I was severely disappointed when I realized this morning that I'd missed a fun Grey Cup party at the Canadian Embassy. Not just because I'm a party girl with FOMO (fear of missing out), but because lately, I've felt a longing for all things Canadian. When I was in Toronto last weekend to visit some old friends, I felt like an outsider in my own country. I wasn't Cookie the Canadian, I was Cookie from DC. My life has extended well beyond the Canadian border and there's no turning back. The eleven years I've been here have changed me; in many ways for the better, but I'm different nonetheless.

Karen, Jess, Shell walking downtown
Wandering Downtown Toronto with Two Old Friends

I lost my Canadian accent years ago and it breaks my heart that the likelihood of getting it back is slim. I miss swiss chalet, coffee crisp, labels in french and english, big fuzzy parkas, skating in zero-below temperatures then warming up to hot chocolate, and the pure simplicity of life. But it's just not who I am anymore. I'm clinging to my citizenship because Canada is where my heart remains, but my path has veered energetically away from the homeland, leaving me feeling just a little bit lost. By definition and by documentation, I am Canadian, but a wandering stray at best; appreciative of my adoptive life, but acutely fond of the old frozen illahie I left behind.


Toronto Skyline

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

Not Thanksgiving

I am thankful for many, many, many things. I am truly blessed. But since Canadian's celebrate Thanksgiving in October, I'm going to twist things up a little bit for the American counterpart. Here is Cookie's list of what she is NOT THANKFUL for this year:
  • Having to pay in full for my doctor's visit on my birthday since the clinic could not verify my insurance on a Saturday; then having to wait 3 months for partial reimbursement. Oh yeah, and being sick on my birthday.
  • UVA football getting annihilated by VA Tech (humourous that on first posting I noticed that I'd typed UVA 'tootball' by accident. That should get my anonymous fart commenter riled up).
  • Gas hitting $3 plus per gallon the week after I brought Scarlet home.
  • The pitiful season finale of Laguna Beach.
  • Having to purchase 2 cell phones and 2 cameras this year because I'm a scatterbrain and I keep losing them, breaking them, or having them stolen.
  • Skinning my knee at the Dewey Beach Girls' Weekend.
  • The lack of availability of good Canadian beer in the States.
  • Sean Preston Federline having two white trash parents. At least he'll turn out to be a good dancer.
  • The Ford Focus, which is quite possibly the worst rental car ever.
  • Hangovers.

Meh - that's enough. Lists that are too long get boring, and I know you all skimmed the existing list as it is.

Happy Turkey Day (almost)!

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Roomie Bonding

For the first time in weeks, both of my roommates and I were all home together at the same time. The result? Side-splitting, voluminous laughter. My roommate kicked off the jam session with a sarcastic recital of the fairytale "Sleeping Cookie" in a nasal-y kiddie voice. "Then the wiiiiiiinds bleeeeeew, and Sleeping Cookie awaaaaaaaakened from her sluuuuumber." If anyone is going to call you out for your eccentricities (e.g. my uber-cheesiness), who better than my roommate L? She has a gift for making you laugh [hard] at yourself. Other fables that came out of our conversation included 'Snow L. and the Seven Dwarfs' and 'Little Red Riding S.' ("My Grandma, what big nostrils you have").

Alright, alright - weak post today. I've got nuthin' for you but a sore abdomen... Thanks ladies for a divine bonding session.

Monday, November 21, 2005


I spent the weekend in the homeland, celebrating the birthdays of myself and two of my closest Canadian girl friends. We started our Saturday night with a girls' dinner, at which over half the women were sharing stories of their husbands and children. These are women with whom I used to play high school basketball, shout at boys from windows of the game buses, and gossip with over illicit Canadian beer at a house party. Then on Sunday I went to lunch with my oldest and dearest friend who is now 4 months pregnant (and positively glowing). Interesting how things change.

With the inundation of baby chatter, I remembered an incident from this summer. My college roommate had just had her second baby boy. I went over to visit a few days after she arrived home from the hospital. After an hour of ogling and cooing and talking, she asked if I wanted to hold him. No question...absolutely! I love kids. But this was entirely different than helping babysit a friend's 4-year old. Holding a 6-day old sleeping baby in the curve of your elbow does something to a woman. The power of having something that helpless snuggled against your skin kicks maternal instincts into full charge. I fell in love. When I left her house, tears streamed down my face. It wasn't sadness. It was desire. A feeling that all women should be given the opportunity to experience in their lives. Motherhood.

I can't wait to hold my best friend's baby in April...

Friday, November 18, 2005

Charming Prince Charming Fellow

There I was, in Charming Fellow's kitchen as he prepared himself a bowl of soup. I was leaning on the counter chatting when he left his soup to come give me a hug. As soon as he pressed against me... PPPHHFFT. OH MY GOD! I don't care how small and innocuous it was, I was seriously mortified. I hadn't done that around him yet. I wasn't ready. It wasn't time.

He didn't let me forget it for the next two hours...

Thursday, November 17, 2005

Sleeping Cookie Meets Prince Charming Fellow

**A title for which I owe copyright infringement royalties to Namaste.

Charming Fellow entered my life as an acquaintance. I met him at a charity event at a local bar one balmy March afternoon. He was a tall, dapper, clean-shaven, UVA-educated gentleman with a canorous, raspy voice, but my thoughts were focused elsewhere at the time, and he had a girlfriend. We exchanged numbers with no underlying romantic purpose. He soon became an acquaintance I looked forward to seeing out on the town.

Charming Fellow is one of those high-quality, monogamy-enabled, sexy men you want to bring home to your Mom. So when his relationship ended, I immediately offered to introduce him to the ARL girls. It’s my gut instinct to try to play matchmaker for the exemplary; again, with no underlying romantic intention.

And then October came. The humidity waned, the winds cooled, the leaves reddened, and Charming Fellow offered me an extra ticket to a big concert down in Hoo-ville (Or perhaps I requested the ticket? I digress). He arrived at my door precisely on time, garbed in a freshly pressed office shirt and tie. He smiled and I melted. There was something in the air that evening. Throughout the riotous guitar noise, when he put his hand around my waist and pulled me close to utter something in my ear, I wondered why I hadn’t considered him before. For the rest of the evening I could barely keep my eyes away from him. Sleeping Cookie had been awakened from her slumber. Over the next few weeks, I understood that this winter was going to be much, much warmer than the last one. Simply put, Charming Fellow has taken my breath away. We just…click.

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Party Girl 101

Other possible titles for this post: How to Be the Life of the Party, or Innocent Debauchery. Hi, my name is Cookie, and I'm a Party Girl. But let me clarify. The first thing I will teach you in 'Party Girl 101' is that hard-core partying does not imply random hooking up nor use of illegal substances. The best party girls are the ones who can be the life of the celebration within the confines of morality.

Let's begin.

1. Wear something fun and offer no excuses.

No really, she will.

Mini will always be in.

Not sure I could wear this with a straight face.

2. Kick it off with some tasty beverages.

In this case, I recommend soco and lime. Quick toast, then pick your beverage of the evening and stick to it.

Stop Light Shot
A stop light makes for a light party-starter too.

Maartens Mug
Or you can order a beer from a random regular's mug without him knowing.

3. Make use of silly bar signs. Take pictures with them.

UVA Vagina
Bona fide UVA snatch.

4. Be a character for the evening. Spice Girls are always a popular choice. Have fun with it...you'll make people laugh (with you or at you, who cares, because you're having fun).

Go spice
Ginger, Posh and Sporty Spice

Perplexed Spice
Perplexed Spice

Excited Spice
Excited Spice

5. If it makes sense, do a little same-sex dancing or cop-a-feeling. This MUST be done above the clothing, however. PG-13 only. We're going for flirtatious here, (aka 'pretend' cheap ho, not veritable cheap ho).

leg hump


Jess, Stacy Dance

cop-a-feel 2

6. Don't be afraid to engage in a few rounds of flip cup. But if you do, win. One flip, max. Couple rounds and the guys will all think 'Wow, this chick is a bad-ass.' You can quit after a few rounds, relatively unscathed, Party Girl reputation intact.

Nicole, Jess
Number ONE, bitches! Female ringers.

7. Give the boys loving from all angles. Both knees, both hips, both cheeks. Make him feel like the stud that he is. Don't do it alone, or he'll think you want to go home with him.

Jess, chris and becca snuggle
Unless he's your BF-NON-BF, then you should go home with him.

8. Gratuitous group photos, with lots of noise. This let's everyone in the bar know where the fun corner is.

Group shot

It was my birthday weekend...I wasn't about to let a momentary illness mess with my fun (or my reputation). 'Til next weekend... Or, if you want to see Party Girl 101 in action, come to our happy hour. Peace!

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

The Ladies Say 'Bring It'


Hostesses: Kathryn On, Rhinestone Cowgirl, DC Cookie, and City Sparkle.

If you like the pictures from the last event, come help us create some more wild memories!

Interesting Start to a Birthday Celebration

Friday I wasn't feeling so hot. Figured I was just tired and it would pass. Woke up Saturday morning and went for a run to prepare for a big day of football tailgating (go Hoos) and birthday celebrations. Got back to the hotel after my run and realized whatever this was wasn't passing. So, on my actual birthday, I skipped the tailgating and hoofed it over to a walk-in clinic. Happy Birthday to me! Thankfully, I was at the game before kick-off.

Jess at Doc

More wild weekend stories to follow. I was blessed with a hell of an immune system, meaning very fast recovery times, and lots of crazy photos Cookie-style.

Friday, November 11, 2005

Photoshop Genius

I need to get on this photoshop bandwagon. Travis, you're a genius.


Birthday Cookie

The girls helped me celebrate my birthday (officially the 12th) a little bit early on Thursday. As a present, my roommate bought me a great big cookie cake. Cookie for the birthday Cookie. My girls are SO cute and thoughtful!!!

Highlight of the evening: The HAWT waiter with the deep, sultry voice comes by and asks if we need anything else. I look at him seductively and say "yes, a glass of ice..." And he brought it! He then turns to A. and says, "is she always like this?"

It's been almost a week since I posted a photo of myself. Figured you were all suffering withdrawal...


Happy Birthday to me (tomorrow)...

Thursday, November 10, 2005

Jerry Springer Fab

I thought so much of what happens on Jerry Springer was acting, but after last week, I'm not so sure. At the Lenny Kravitz/Aerosmith concert last Thursday, there was a couple who certainly could have auditioned. For the first few songs, the man stood in the aisle dancing and clapping like a retarded chicken. He then sat down beside the woman in front of us, who must have been his girlfriend. They kissed each other awkwardly, and then all hell broke loose. She started wailing at him in his ear, every curse word in the book, for several minutes at a time, most of which was unintelligible. She grabbed his jacket and pulled his hair every time he tried to stand up. While Lenny Kravitz crooned 'Let Love Rule,' our friendly neighbours screamed, at the top of their raspy lungs, 'Fuck You...You don't deserve to be here...You ain't got nothin' to be jealous about, I love...You!...I bought these tickets, get off me...You aren't worth shit..." The most entertaining/annoying part about it was, every time he walked away, he'd come back 5 minutes later for more abuse. Finally, he clocked her in the face. With Lenny now singing "She's mah little laa-daaay...she's not shady," she punched him back and he started to bleed all over his seat.


My date looked at me and said 'Please God, let that never be us.' I assured him I didn't even think I could pretend to be that trashy.

I was just thankful they were gone by Aerosmith.

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

The Next BSB?

SO FUNNY. Please tell me this is a practical joke for their english class... I'm loving the Yao Ming jerseys. Something about a tall, buff, humble Asian man that does it for me.

The funniest parts?

  • The guy on the left has a cast. Perhaps a karaoke injury?
  • The guy on the right is so into his dancing that he rips off his headband.
  • The guy in the background (who appears to be editing internet porn) never once turns around.

Interesting E-mail

I received an intriguing e-mail the other day, about which I have been approved to blog-post by said writer of the e-mail. Here are a few notable excerpts:

I'm sure you get this all the time, but I think your blog is the wittiest and snarkiest I've ever read.

Ah, compliments. I love these. Great starting sentence. The e-mail continues...

Anyway, I'm sure you get this all the time too, but I'd like to know if we can just have a drink sometime.

I hear the DJ's record scratch and the room becomes dead silent. What? Did that really just happen? Did someone who reads my blog just write me an e-mail and ask me out? Wooooooooah. No, actually, I DON'T get this all the time. Out of curiosity, does this happen to anyone else? Thing is, though I am absolutely never adverse to making new friends, I'm not exactly looking for a date right now...

Regardless, I was impressed with his candor and assured lack of apprehension. I wrote back and told him so.

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

Deep Waters

I learned something very profound about myself last night; so profound that I’m struggling with the words to explain it. And when I admit it, I suspect you’ll all be surprised. On the exterior, I wave the ‘I am strong’ flag and preach to my female-peers to demand equality, but on the interior, I don’t have the slightest idea how to ask for what I want. I’m not talking about flavours of ice cream here. I’m talking about big things, emotional things. I’m an ESFJ, the Caregiver, and the Healer. At the forefront of my reverie, I am constantly fixated on other people’s happiness. I’ve always felt most intimate with the people whose problems I can solve by wrapping them in my arms. I’m not sure I’ve ever thought twice about the reasonableness of it all because meeting other people’s needs makes me happy. To meet my own needs, I typically just turn inwards. I have never entertained the idea that someone else might be an equally willing participant.

So last night, when the special person I was spending some quality time with made a very simple gesture, which to him was probably no more extraordinary than changing his socks, I was barely able to speak. He simply said, “What do YOU like?” At first I giggled and didn’t answer. I didn’t want to have to answer, because the problem was, I didn’t know. All this time, all my experiences, and there I was, just a little Lolita, unable to express her desires. Unchartered, vulnerable waters.

I have some things to learn, and that scares me.

Monday, November 07, 2005


I believe women can inherently tell the difference between a guy who wants a relationship and a guy who just wants to hook up. But there are so many times we don't listen to our gut. If you're currently 'involved' with someone, in whatever capacity, and you aren't sure where his heart is, let me break it down for you:

Wants to hook up with you AND date you:
  • He calls you when he says he will
  • He introduces you to, and brings you out with, his friends
  • He makes plans with you ahead of time (asks you Monday what you're doing on Thursday)
  • He wants to come with you to a bar, not meet up afterwards
  • Your dates involve more than just being at each other's house
  • He puts his arm around you in public
  • He uses the term 'we'
  • He gets excited about your ideas for future dates
  • He follows through
  • He gives you a toothbrush

Just wants to hook up with you:

  • He only calls when he feels like it, and only returns your phone calls when he's 'done hanging out with his friends'
  • Communication frequently occurs after last call
  • He's selfish in bed
  • He doesn't make plans
  • He says 'I just want to go with the flow' or 'I don't like having expectations'
  • You leave something at his house, and it's hidden in a drawer the next time you come back
  • He doesn't say thank you
  • His answer is always 'maybe'

You can tell what type of guy your interest is pretty quickly. Remember, listen to your instinct, 99% of the time, it's correct. Don't waste your time on the dudes in the latter category unless you enjoy dissatisfaction.

For instance, I met a guy at a bar one night a few months ago. Seemed nice enough. I even entertained thoughts of possibly going out to dinner with him, until he shot himself in the foot no more than three hours after meeting him. After seeing me get in a cab with 3 of my girlfriends, I received a phone call AND a text message from him at 3:40 in the morning saying 'get home safely? What are you doing?' After being relatively smooth during our bar conversation, poor kid made it SO obvious what he was looking for. 'I'm not sure if I'm home safe, would you like to come over and find out?' PLEASE! So gross. I couldn't even bring myself to respond to tell him how wretchedly he blew it. NEXT!

Thursday, November 03, 2005

Hangin' With Dad

The reason why I have an Electra complex (millennium-version: aka, seeking out in your partner all the qualities of your father) is because, simply, my Dad is the awesomest Dad alive. I could list 1,000+ reasons (humble, honest, goofy, generous...), but I won't. I'll just give you an example of why I'd be happy spending every day just hanging out with Dad.

My family went on a cruise this summer. On the first night, everyone got really decked out in fancy-schmancy formal wear and while we were taking pictures, Dad was on the balcony talking to me about the ship's engines and the physics of the wake behind the boat. We even came up with a plot as to how we'd coax the staff to let us see the engine room. There is nothing fake about my Dad. He's a brilliant man, with simple tastes, who enjoys all the small things life has to offer. It's from him I inherited my passion for logic puzzles and nature hikes.

Dad on Cruise Balcony

My parents live in Los Angeles now, which is hella far from DC, especially with how busy my life is and how hard it is to make a weekend trek to the West Coast. I only get to see my family three times a year, if I'm lucky. It sucks. This week, Dad was in town for business meetings, and I got to spend two nights having dinner with him. A little alone time with Dad makes my entire month a happy one.

I'm the luckiest daughter in the world.

Wednesday, November 02, 2005

You Had Me At 'Klutz'

I am not a graceful woman. At least, not with my movements. My mind is always working faster than my feet. I started with gymnastics, but quickly grew too tall for the sport. My parents then suggested dance classes, which taught me rhythm, but failed to correct my clumsiness. Still, I kept at it.

jess dance

I got involved in piano lessons for posture, competitive jump rope for dexterity, basketball for agility, skiing for speed, volleyball for power, golf for aim, softball for depth perception, archery for hand-eye coordination; all of which made me a better musician and athlete, but none of which extinguished my klutzy tendencies.

Then I debated my footwear. Perhaps if I switched to spike heels, I could learn to walk like a lissome ballerina. I definitely improved my balance, but limber, I was not. Wedges, flip-flops, sneakers, platforms, clogs, pumps - flats or heels, didn't make a difference. And thus, I grew to accept that, although I could plie, jog, waltz, shoot a jump shot and a bullseye, drive a golf ball 180 yards and race down a mountain, no matter how badly I desired grace of motion, I would always be a goof who trips on her own two feet.

That characteristic never fails to rear its ugly head at exactly the wrong time. For instance, I took a particularly handsome gentleman out for an early birthday dinner last night. In an effort to be slightly romantic, I dressed up in a skirt and heels. Following dinner, I was wandering up the staircase and somehow missed the last step. I did a face-first nose dive onto the floor and left a big black skid mark from my shoe on the hardwood panels. Classy. And humbling. Poor guy has also accidentally been kicked, head-butted and poked in the eye. I'm such a charmer!

We're going out again Thursday.

Tuesday, November 01, 2005

Definition of Healthy

So the doctor said to me today, kindly, "I see you're about 5 pounds over what I'd like you to be." I wonder why?? I just laughed and said "yeah, it's my birthday month," and left it at that.

Jess eats burrito

The way I see it, you just can't stress about these things. 5 pounds? Who cares? I'll train for another 10-K as soon as my birthday is over and it will be like the extra little pillsbury squish never existed. Birthday 'season' (I tend to celebrate for weeks) requires lush dinners, cake, candy, and lots of wine and martinis. I'm just making my little buddha-belly happy and congratulating her on helping me enjoy another successful, adventurous, and satisfying year of life.
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