DC Cookie

Friday, April 28, 2006

The Question of Oil and Vinegar - To Be Continued

Take olive oil and vinegar, the two main ingredients in this relationship salad dressing. Oil is attracted to vinegar because she is spicy and daring; a little nutty, a little tangy, a little unpredictable. Vinegar is attracted to oil because he’s suave and even-tempered; reasonable, reliable and loyal. They make each other laugh. They make each other happy.

Oil and vinegar can spend hours, days, even months together in the same jar, frolicking and boozing, laughing and dancing, kissing and sleeping, but at the end of the day, they don’t [yet] cohabitate. As the boisterous entertainment and infatuation settles, their weighted masses bifurcate; their needs are divergent. At which point they realize they’re not ‘really’ a salad dressing, but just the main ingredients feigning.

What happens now is up to the oil and the vinegar...

Thursday, April 27, 2006

Fantasy

E-mail forwards like these (that pull at my heart strings) are why I'm doomed...

"LOVE"

Find a guy who calls you beautiful instead of hot, who calls you back when you hang up on him, who will stay awake just to watch you sleep.

Wait for the guy who kisses your forehead, who wants to show you off to the world when you are in your sweats, who holds your hand in front of his friends. Wait for the one who is constantly reminding you of how much he cares about you and how lucky he is to have you.

Wait for the one who turns to his friends and says,"that's her."

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

Verbose

I love lawyers. I just read a brief in which the words blunderbuss, gravaman, obfuscate and dilatory appeared on the first page.

Okay, so I used the word obfuscate the other day myself. I believe that proves my point...

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Vegas II - The Adventure of 19 Women

visor_cropped
Look Mom, I got married in Vegas...

72 hours in Sin City and all I got was this lousy hat...

Group4
The ARL at Caesar's Palace.

KFed
K-Fed's lip sync did not convince me to purchase his album.

Although K-Fed would probably not host his CD release party at the same lounge on 18th Street where my girls are dancing, and although a celebrity hob-knob would be more likely to consist of a screwdriver with DC Bachelor than a glass of champagne with Tom Brady or Kathy Hilton, a trip to Vegas was really no different than any other weekend in DC. What I have realized about my crew is that, regardless of the bat channel, we're always going to have the same incredible bat time.

What Las Vegas had to offer us was excessive drinking, new female acquaintances with beads and cute dresses, silly picture poses like the lion claw, self-portraits, boobs, excessive drinking, podium dancing, teaching two quiet men (pimps) how to hit on a pretty woman (who, unbeknownst to this Cookie, was also their trick), consumer shenanigans, and even more excessive drinking. Really, a weekend in the town that never sleeps was just like a weekend in DC on too much red bull (for twice the price, but worth every penny).

I am seriously blessed to have such wonderful women in my life...

Monday, April 24, 2006

Vegas I

The theme picture of the weekend...

IMG_0680

Thursday, April 20, 2006

The ARL Hits the Wynn

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'illin by the Bellagio in '05 with an empty yard drink.

If you are wondering why you might not see a post tomorrow, that is because I'm hopping on a plane tonight with 19 other HOT women, bound for sin city.

The traditional saying is, of course, 'what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas,' but...I'm bringing my camera. So expect good things on Monday...

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

Clammy

In grade 6 I was so enamoured of a kid named Teddy that I would write secret love letters to him or romantic stories about the two of us, but never show anybody. One day after school, near the coat closet, Teddy was talking to me about hockey and I was dreamily responding. I was positive he was going to ask me to 'go around.' As he said, "Hey, I have a question for you. I wanted to see if..." I leaned toward him and put my hand on his lower arm. I was touching him for no more than three seconds when he jerked his wrist back and said "EW, gross! Your hands are so sweaty!" and then proceeded to ask me about my math homework. In that instant, I silently died.

There I was, an awkward, insecure adolescent, and the one thing my paramour had commented on were my clammy palms; the same one thing that I had absolutely no control over. I regressed so deeply in my self-loathing and pity that I did not show affection for a man again until high school.

It’s not like shaving my legs where I am one hundred percent in control of how beastly or silky my limbs feel as they intertwine with my partner’s. I was ‘blessed’ with an exothermic soul. Short of inhabiting an igloo, there is nothing I can do to prevent the misty vapour from condensing on my palms. In sunlight, in darkness, in humidity, in arid heat, my hands glisten. It’s the most humbling physical imperfection I can point to.

So of course, unbeknownst to him, when my body heat and my moist hands were the only attributes of mine that Charming Fellow addressed one evening as we lay and watched TV together, I was sent back to the dark moments of my childhood when I had a self-worth the size of a sesame seed. I became so self-conscious that by the time the lights were off, I was curled up by myself so far at the corner of the bed he couldn’t even reach me to put his arms around me.

Even the most confident of women can become crestfallen and ashamed given the wrong kind of feedback. This is why you’ll be hard pressed to hear me utter anything but a well-deserved compliment. Because I know what it’s like to experience those pangs of self-doubt; an emotion I wouldn’t even wish on my worst enemy (that is, if I had one).

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

Track List

I can't believe I'm about to go generic here...

Also, I hate being tagged. So I won't tag anyone. Foilwoman had this on her site a while back, so I'm borrowing the idea, sans tagging...

1. A track from your early childhood.
"The More We Get Together" by Raffi

2. A track that you associate with your first love.
"Love Bites" by Def Leppard

3. A track that reminds you of a holiday trip.
"Court of King Caractacus" by Rolf Harris

4. A track that you like but wouldn’t want to be associated with in public.
"Rumors" by Lindsay Lohan

5. A track that accompanied you when you were lovesick.
"The Reason" by Hoobastank

6. A track that you have probably listened to most often.
"So Hard Done By" by the Tragically Hip

7. A track that is your favourite instrumental.
"Jessica" by the Allman Brothers

8. A track that represents one of your favourite bands/artists.
"Always on the Run" by Lenny Kravitz

9. A track which represents yourself best.
"As the Rush Comes" by Motorcycle Boy

10. A track that reminds you of a special occasion (which one?).
"Better Off Alone" by Alice Deejay (Y2K New Years Eve in Toronto)

11. A track that you can relax to.
"Low Place Like Home" by Sneaker Pimps

12. A track that stands for a really good time in your life.
"Days Go By" by Dirty Vegas

13. A track that is currently your favourite.
"Dance Dance" by Fall Out Boy

14. A track that you’d dedicate to your best friend.
"Thank You" by Dido

15. A track that you think nobody but you likes.
"Canadian Railroad Trilogy" by Gordon Lightfoot

16. A track that you like especially for its lyrics.
"To Zion" by Lauryn Hill

17. A track that you like that’s neither English nor German.
"La Tortura" by Shakira

18. A track that lets you release tension best.
"Control" by Puddle of Mudd

19. A track that you want to be played on your funeral.
"A Real Canadian Girl" by Stompin' Tom Connors

20. A track that you’d nominate for the “best of all times” category.
"Billie Jean" by Michael Jackson

Monday, April 17, 2006

Jekyll and Hyde

IMG_0579
The Arlington girls get ready for the fun to start.

If it isn't already clear from my posts, I like to socialize (socialize being, of course, a euphemism for spending the equivalent of a mortgage payment for excessive drinking, dancing, food, flirting and photography).

IMG_0541
Birthday present.

This weekend was no exception, as I rallied from Thursday to Sunday to celebrate the birthday of a very special friend. Her present was bottle service and a lap dance.

Bik, Jess, Wanksta
Cookie sandwich.

IMG_0581
Tug-o-Cookie

But as I curled up in bed on Saturday night after the newspapers had already been delivered, black eyeliner smudged on my cheek, a crumpled $1 bill and a credit card receipt the only money left in my pocket, hair reeking so badly of dry ice and cigarettes that I probably ruined the pillow case, the remorse began to settle in.

This is the girl who, at 13 years old, told her parents she would never drink alcohol - that it tasted bad and encouraged people to behave like morons. This is the girl who spent hours at church youth group and who entertained the notion of one day becoming a minister (just like her grandfather). This is the girl who dreamed of having a husband and 3 kids by the time she turned 30. Interesting how our choices and our environment can alter our intended plans so drastically.

Now, just because I'm a regular fixture at several evening-activity venues and spend quite a few hours a week on the dance floor with a vodka tonic in hand, doesn't mean that I'm not still the same kind-hearted, warm, shy, family-oriented girl I was growing up. What I fear though, are the mis-perceptions that are associated with being so vibrantly social. In the eyes of a man, does the party girl outrival the 'bring this one home to my mom?' Does the fun conceal the serious? Does the external sexy obfuscate the internal beauty?

And after a weekend like the one I just had, the latter half spends the better part of her Sunday afternoons kicking the former half for hoarding all the press.

Friday, April 14, 2006

Playboy for Women

An excerpt from a [highly paraphrased] humourous conversation this morning:

Cookie (after critiquing a flyer for a Playboy subscription offer): You know, we don't really have something like this for women. I've never been interested in Playgirl - it's completely cheesy.

CF: Yeah, that's targeted more to gay men.

Cookie: Maybe.

CF: What women need is a magazine about romantic, emotional men who share their feelings.

Cookie: Ha! That doesn't exist.

CF: Exactly. The female equivalent of Playboy. It's a fantasy.

And then he smiled and kissed me on the cheek.

Thursday, April 13, 2006

Happy Birthday

A very happy 30th to my oldest and loving-est friend who I have known since I was three. I didn't send a card because...well, she knows that I suck at things like that (and loves me anyway), so instead, she gets a blog post.

Samantha birthday pic

Also, a belated happy 0th birthday to Little Timmy who finally popped out at a whopping 9 pounds 7 ounces on April 8th - the little meatball! He was chatty this morning (aww...just like Pops)! Looking forward to meeting him in person!

Girl Time

When you're dating someone, the face-time with your girls becomes just that much more important. Hence, when I got an invite last weekend to a boutique opening from a girlfriend I hadn't seen in eons, I did not hesitate.

Valise_Bag

We entered the supremely decorated shop (I highly recommend a visit), and were immediately handed caviar and champagne. My kind of boutique! I'd never been to an event like this before, and given the size of the shop, I figured we might last twenty minutes. Two hours (and several hundred dollars of damage) later, the driver had to drag us away.

Valise_Cookie

The shop even put little cookies in our gift bags.

new_shirt_cop-a-feel

My sapphire chemise was apparently...well-received?

Thanks ladies!

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

Uggianaqtuq

Which is apparently an Inuit term suggesting unexpected behavior or 'a friend acting strangely.' Coincidence that I pulled that word from an article that my sweetheart sent to me just an hour ago? Absolutely. But fitting, nonetheless.

I had a long IM conversation last night with a man that I used to date; someone I still hold in very high regard. We had an enlightening discussion about how our few months of romance went from infatuation to friend zone. The bottom line, we [mutually] didn't communicate what we were thinking - at least, not to any satisfying depth. And through that lack of communication, we both developed significant [mis]perceptions about the 'relationship.' Our gut instincts told us something was off kilter, but rather than discussing the issues, we just...stopped dating.

I'm a much better writer than I am a verbal communicator. I can spill my heart out in an e-mail, but when I look a man in the eyes, the wiring that connects heart - brain - mouth short circuits. I turn into a 'Johnny 5' uggianaqtuq, and virtually shut down.

Last night, as I lay awake in the dark of the late evening hours, I thought 'I hope I never have to have an after-the-fact conversation like this with my Charming Fellow, because I can't figure out how to re-wire and articulate my emotions.' I'm a guarded genie in a bottle; I need prompting. In the meantime, the icebergs begin to melt...

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

My Pal Juan

Despite being an immigrant myself [albeit, unfairly privileged, but legal], I have not been following this immigration bill. I can't vote in either my homeland or my country of residence; hence, politics bore me. But that's no excuse for ignorance. Over the weekend, my boyfriend wrote a relatively passionate bulletin about his views on the issue, so I thought it my duty to find out more. After my early evening gym class, I wandered down to an incredibly crowded, but peaceful demonstration on the Mall. A gym acquaintance's husband was manning the acoustics, so I stood in the sound booth near the stage and listened to eloquent and fiery spanish over the loudspeaker. I understood about 5% of the words, but about 95% of the message. It was moving, to say the least.

Which, inadvertently, got me thinking about my buddies in my office building. There are three people I see almost every day, who coincidentally make my day every time they say hello. The first is the man who works on B4 of the parking garage, washes and details my automotive beast for a bargain-basement (no pun intended) price, and saves me a prime parking space when I'm late (which is often). His accent is heavy, his words are few, but his kindness is overwhelming. He recently told me that his company might be transferring him. It nearly broke my heart.

The second is the woman who enters my office around 8pm each evening to empty my basura and recycling. She always asks politely if she can come in while I'm working. I always thank her, because her work is thankless, but she attacks it with pride and contentment.

The third is my pal Juan*. He is in charge of the appearance of the building's main entrances and hallways. When I leave in the evening, he is buffing the floors. His eyes light up when I turn the corner. He waves as I walk towards him (and the parking elevator). He says hello with a gusto that melts away my stress. He stops his work for the few moments of our verbal exchange, and his face beams as I say, "Hi! How are you?" and he replies "Yes!" As the doors close on the elevator, Juan has invariably made me giggle and blush.

"Si, se puede."

*Juan is the name I have given him...one day I will ask his real name.

Monday, April 10, 2006

It's True

A few weeks ago, I got an offer for 50 MyPoints if I set up a free profile at True.com. I'm not single, but even if I were, I would not be interested in online dating. However, I wanted the 50 points, so I signed up. I made up a lame profile figuring it would be ignored.

I've had 51 winks in a week. ARE YOU SERIOUS?

My profile claims that I am 68 years old with a large 5'2" frame and below average looks. I have never been married, but want to have kids (hello, I'm 68). I'm a middle eastern protestant woman with a high school education who makes $30,000 a year and drinks heavily (okay, so I was honest about ONE thing). I live in New Jersey and I'm looking for a man between the ages of 25 and 100.

51 winks. Who ARE these people? Should I put up a picture?

**Oh, and as a side note, ask Virgle Kent about how I got him half naked at the Ballroom on Saturday. That boy's body is hotter than Achilles.

Thursday, April 06, 2006

Dangerous Vacation

Where is the scariest place you've ever travelled? Sadly for me, I'd have to go with Northeast DC. All of the exotic places I've vacationed have been just that - exotic. Dublin, Zurich, Geneva, Vancouver, Tahoe, Cabo San Lucas, Miami, Puerto Vallarta...

I've often given my family reasons to fret, but at least my choices for vacation destinations have left their hearts intact. When Lil Sis decided to travel by herself to Guatamala to meet some friends over the new year, Mom feigned an emotional TSI when she heard the news. You're going where? Why?! Thankfully, El Guapo's writing placated her.

Sis and volcano
Lil Sis poses in front of the volcano she is getting ready to climb.

steep2
Lil Sis snaps a shot of the steep, rugged terrain.

Sis and guide
Lil Sis at the peak with her Guatamalan guide.

sis on steep trail
Lil Sis descending.

toasting volcano
Con una cerveza, Lil Sis toasts the volcano she just conquered.

Lil Sis came back from her adventure giddy as a bumble bee. When she announced to the family that her spring break was going to be spent in Colombia, one can only imagine the virtual cardiac arrest that Mom experienced. She called me in a hyperventilating tizzy saying, "YOU used to be the one we always had to worry about...but now it's your sister. Please call and talk some sense into her. She could get killed!" Granted, I'm sure there are parts of South America that can be menacing if you're not properly educated or prepared (which I'm sure are the only parts a mother can think about when her child leaves the nest); but the cultural edification from such a voyage is invaluable. Ask DCB. Besides, Lil Sis wasn't going to Colombia solo to wander the barrios. She was going with 40 students on a tour that was intricately planned by a fellow Colombian classmate. There was never a moment's doubt in my mind that she would return home safely.

LilSis with kids
Lil Sis shares digital images with local Colombian children.

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Lil Sis and some friends dance at a Colombian restaurant.

It's probably a good thing that, in my conversation to Mom, I didn't divulge Lil Sis' other top destination ideas. Let's just say Colombia was the safest.

Lil Sis was born to do far greater things than most rational people could ever comprehend. And when I saw her pictures, I was envious that I hadn't been able to tag along.

Wednesday, April 05, 2006

To Be Rich or To Educate

"Congratulations for your sis, I hope she's not as pretentious and smug as the rest of the Harvardites." - O-face.

My Lil Sis has a heart that is bigger than my nose. Bigger than my hair. Bigger than my bootie. Lil Sis has always been a giver. This past Christmas, I bought her, among other things, a Tiffany's ring because she's the apple of my eye and she deserved it. She thanked me profusely, but later asked me if I'd be terribly disappointed if she wanted me to return the gift and give the money to her favourite charity instead. "I just don't really need it, and there are kids out there who can use the money more than I can use the ring." She's incredibly charitable and humble.

And now, given her passion for helping others, Lil Sis is facing a difficult life decision. Although she has worked for a top consulting firm since undergrad (the firm that is paying for her graduate degree), and will be working there for at least another 2 years when she finishes at Harvard, the question that tugs at her heart strings is whether or not it's really the job she was meant to do. She's a brilliant, highly demanded consultant, but she's far more passionate about education than she is about strategizing with billion dollar firms. During her tenure with her company, Lil Sis took a 6 month externship for half the pay at the New York Board of Education. From there, she became a Big Sister for a pregnant teen, and also become heavily involved in the City Year charity. For her summer internship she's debating a stint in New Orleans with a startup firm that will specialize in reconstructing the education system in the aftermath of Katrina.

It's a decision so many of us struggle with, especially those of us with a social conscience. Take the corporate job that pays hundreds of thousands and enables us to donate generously (our money, but not our time), or take the socially responsible job that allows us to make a hands-on difference, but forces us to live paycheck to paycheck?

Regardless, I'll support her either way.

Tuesday, April 04, 2006

Absence Doesn't Just Make the Heart Grow Fonder

I'm writing this post because I have her on the brain.

PiggyBackSisters

This past weekend, the babies of the family (who are no longer exactly babies) came to visit me. I played tour-guide for my cousins - 10 and 8 year-old sisters who are virtually siamese. From the moment they knocked on my glass door holding hands, I couldn't help but daydream longingly about the period in my life when I had the same relationship with my own sister.

I was the first child, niece, grandchild and great-grandchild on my mother's side of the family; doted on from every corner. So when Lil Sis entered my life, that squirrel-cheeked, even-tempered, blonde angel who hardly ever cried, I fell in love privately. I loved her more than any toy, but given an audience, I resented having to work so hard for the limelight that was once exclusively mine.

j&k as kids_small

No matter what activity I decided to engage in, Lil Sis would look at me wide-eyed and hopeful that I would include her. She idolized me unconditionally. I would pretend that her participation in my playtime was an annoyance, but I adored her company. The more I abused her affection, the more she gave. When we coloured, I'd give her the white and gold crayons while I kept the shades of the rainbow. When we made sticker art, she'd lick the stickers and I'd paste them creatively on the page. When we built forts, I got the master bedroom. When we upgraded our household appliances, I took the fridge box to make a cardboard house and she got the dishwasher box. When we played piano duets, I lead with the melody. When I taught her how to play blackjack I was always the dealer (although I did feel guilty enough to give her dimes back after I'd won)... At any rate, we became inseparable.

jess kristy

jk kids

We shared halloween costumes, a bathroom, notebooks, a dog, poems, jump ropes, stuffed animals, clothes, acne medicine, our first car, chores, celebrity crushes, quirky stories about our quirky relatives, and sometimes even a bed during a thunderstorm.

J&K chocolate faces1

jess kristy pose kids

Then one day, despite my years of denial, it dawned on me. My life without the introduction of Lil Sis could only ever have been half as wonderful, and my life with the departure of Lil Sis in any capacity leaves me slightly empty. She's my confidante, my unfailing supporter, my DNA and my biggest fan. And if she doesn't realize it, I am also hers.

This week my posts are officially dedicated to Lil Sis...because I miss her madly.

Monday, April 03, 2006

Bragging Rights

After her first final exam in her first semester at the Harvard MBA program, my sister gave my Mom a call. She said "Mom, I was the first person to finish the exam, with over an hour left to go. Everyone else was still writing. I wonder if I should be concerned?" That was converted as a note in Mom's hysterical Christmas letter that bragged "Lil Sis finished first in her class of 900." Technically, she wasn't lying...
 
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