The Decline of Western Civilization

Heard in Starbucks this morning: "Okay, here's your grande decaf sugar-free vanilla skim latte."

Really? What's the point?!

no·tice

Noun: 1. The act of noting or observing; perception or attention: That detail escaped my notice. 2. Respectful attention or consideration: grateful for the teacher's notice. 3. A written or printed announcement: a notice of sale. 4a. A formal announcement, notification, or warning, especially an announcement of one's intention to withdraw from an agreement or leave a job: gave my employer two weeks' notice; raised the price without notice. b. The condition of being formally warned or notified: put us on notice for chronic lateness. 5. A printed critical review, as of a play or book.

Diet Heaven

Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper....Granted, it's not as good as the "real thing" at Sonic, but it's a pretty fantastic substitute. I highly recommend it.

Better Late Than Never

I finally, FINALLY got the OC season one on DVD...and it really IS this generation's 9-0. I hate to admit it, but I'm a big fan (granted, the blood orange mimosas I've been downing all evening may have had an impact on my enthusiasm, but nevertheless). Mindless, cheezy drama...with the added bonus of Adam Brody, who is my new teen crush. I've been loving him since his "Gilmore Girls" days as Lane's long-suffering, guitar-playing boyfriend Dave, even though I'm probably 10 years older than he is, which is rather frightening.

My dearest Janie is the one who always had the crushes on the younger men - I was more of the "Aragorn! (sigh)" kind of chick, but this boy just might make me change my mind.

He's dreamy.

Oops

I'm not sure if the teleprompter was on the fritz, or whether there was an honest mistake in the crafting of the State of the Union, but it seems that our "esteemed" President forgot to mention the part about the fabulous new individual Social Security savings accounts where each of us give the money we earned from the account back to the government....I'm sure it was just an oversight.

"You'll be able to pass along the money that accumulates in your personal account, if you wish, to your children . . . or grandchildren," Bush said last night. "And best of all, the money in the account is yours, and the government can never take it away."

Um, no. Not really. Not even close. The accounts would work more like a loan from the government, to be paid back upon retirement at an inflation-adjusted 3 percent interest rate -- the interest the money would have earned if it had been invested in Treasury bonds, said Peter R. Orszag, a Social Security analyst at the Brookings Institution and a former Clinton White House economist.

Let's look at it this way (thank you, Jonathan Weisman for doing the math): If a worker sets aside $1,000 a year for 40 years, and earns 4 percent annually on investments, the account would grow to $99,800 in today's dollars, but the government would keep $78,700 -- or about 80 percent of the account. The remainder, $21,100, would be the worker's.

So, I can't touch my money until I retire, the government still gets to pick where I invest my money, and then they keep 80% of it...hmm...It sounds to me like those are almost SOCIALIST tax rates...so, you conservatives who think the government shouldn't be touching your money should think twice before jumping aboard the privatization train.

I won't even go into how relieved I feel that Shrub is planning on supporting a constitutional amendment to "protect the institution of marriage." I mean, let the liberty roll to the farthest reaches of the earth - Iraq, Iran, North Korea...but not here. No, not here.

Not if we don't like you.

By Request

So, apparently I'm being criticized (gently, but criticized nonetheless) for posting too infrequently on the bethanator blog. Hmph. Fine, then.

Weird, weird dreams last night...it's funny how your mind mooshes everything together that you were thinking about right before you went to sleep. According to my nocturnal imagination, last night, I was attending the inauguration (which I actually did), but it was at the House of Representatives Chamber (which it was not), and my ex-boyfriend was getting married there (which I'm pretty sure he isn't, at least according to my sources). Plus, the Richland High School Class of 1993 was holding their reunion at the same time...

At least I looked hot for all of the above because I was wearing a gorgeous ball gown (a strapless periwinkle number, thanks for asking), some sparkly Jimmy Choos, and had my hair done...I blame Carrie Bradshaw et al for the Jimmy Choo chapter...Netflix is a beautiful way to spend a snowy weekend.

The Circle of Life - Not Just Another Cheezy Elton John Sell-Out Song

Everyone I know is pregnant. Or wants to be. Seriously.

And that's wonderful! It's just kind of weird...you know, it's like the time when "everyone I know is applying to graduate school" or "everyone I know is getting married (which was 2003, by the way)...I know that one's peers tend to be experiencing the same "big life moments" around the same times, but when it all happens at once, it's a little overwhelming.

As for me, I'm just psyched about my Jeopardy! audition.

Happy Birthday to Me!

I love that my birthday is so close to New Year's Day...I get the two concepts wrapped up in each other, and I always feel like my birthday is a great time to start new things. This year is going to be so much different than last year...A beautifully painted house on the Hill, great new friends (as well as the original cast members - Janie, Cookie, Joely, Katie, Sarah, and Jill - who continue to delight year after year), interviews for fabulous new jobs...Yay, 29!

Last Day...

...to pretend that thirty isn't RIGHT THERE IN FRONT OF ME. Actually, I'm completely fine with it. Tomorrow is my 29th Birthday, and I'm actually looking forward to this last year of my twenties. I think it's going to be a big one, and as long as I get to kick it off with some cake, all will be well.

It's a Festivus Miracle!

Drove my new best friend to the airport this morning...I love that I was out of bed at 5:10 AM, and back into it before 6. Having an airport (even if it's named after a conservative neo-capitalist with little understanding of economics) within a ten minute drive is such a bonus, especially because the FAA won't let them fly over our house! Convenient, AND quiet. Perfect.

Driving to the office started this last work-day off quite well, and the dunkin' donuts and coffee that were awaiting me upon my arrival pushed it up into "best-workday-ever"-land. Add to that I'm leaving around noon, and I think we have a winner.

It truly is a festivus miracle! You know, for the rest of us.

Weekend in the 'Burbs.

Nothing like renting a shiny new Chevy Impala (well, I didn't exactly get a choice, it was what they had) and heading off to the wilds of Northern Virginia to do some Christmas shopping. I remember why I hate Target on Sunday afternoons...and why I love IKEA. There was also quite a bit of home-improvement shopping, in order to have a freshly-painted, completely color-coordinated suite of rooms in which to display the Christmas tree and Festivus pole.

Add to the painting, grocery ordering, cleaning, tree-trimming, silver polishing, light stringing, and peppermint mocha sipping a hefty dollop of billable hours, and I think I'm going to need to sleep until I turn 29. Which, conveniently enough, is only 10 days after Christmas.

So close, and still so far.

From the Wash. Post this morning: "Former prez and heart patient Bill Clinton was seen the other day ordering himself a hot dog bagel -- a hot dog inside a bagel -- at Einstein Brothers on Wisconsin Avenue. He also ordered trail-mix cookies, which surely qualify as health food, and coffee. With Secret Service agents watching, he carried his own bag as he greeted customers, including two excited 11-year-olds, Emily Widra of Rockville and Madelyn Levy of Washington. "Hi, ladies," he said. "

I'm devastated!!!!!! That's a mere 2 or so miles from my office... I could have been there. Stupid Emily and Madelyn. They don't know how lucky they have it, for a number of reasons:

1) They were not at my workplace.
2) They got to talk to Bill Clinton.
3) They were at Einsteins.

I bet they didn't even get coffee with their bagels...What a waste.

Who Knew?

I suppose it's time for more posting...now that I've removed the last name from the blog, I guess I can be a little more free to, well, criticize - because let's face it, that is one of my strengths. Or, as I put it in my government KSAs, critical thinking is part of my "skill set."

It's nice to know that my musings have been missed. Well, "missed" is probably too strong a word..."noted," perhaps? Either way...

Well, back to the regulatory compliance salt mines...with my trusty venti bold drip with hazelnut at my side, all is achievable.

I'll save the discussion on Jenna Bush's impending faculty position at a DC Charter School for later - I'm giddy with comedic possibilities...

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A205-2004Dec14.html

Too late.

Obama in 2008!

That's pretty much all of the enthusiasm that I can muster today. Perhaps tomorrow will be better.

I can't take this.

The waiting. The anxiety. The frantic refreshing of the CNN electoral map. My stomach has been in knots for days...please, please, please, Ohio. Please. Don't wreck it for everyone. Please.

To the Woman in Seat #23-A

American Airlines Flight 1240, DFW to DCA (Dallas to National Airport) - you were sitting behind me. A few minutes after takeoff, I noticed that you kept clearing your throat. While it was annoying (kind of like the person in your exam room who refuses to use a tissue and instead sniffs every 30 seconds), I was not terribly put off by your gargles and managed to focus on my extremely compelling "In Style" magazine. Soon, you became much more annoying and repulsive by insisting on coughing, choking, and gagging on whatever was coming up out of your lungs. Now, I too have had an upper respiratory infection during a flight. But in that unfortunate instance, I plied myself with nasal spray, decongestant, and antihistamine to the point where I was no longer an annoyance, let alone a DANGER to everyone around me. After two and a half hours of your spewing filthy germs at the back of my head, even my manic hand-washing after deplaning was apparently not enough to counteract your attack. By dinnertime, I was sick. And what are the chances that I would suddenly be stricken with a cough, stuffy nose, and a fever? Pretty good, after sitting in front of you.

Next time, obnoxious woman in 23-A, visit Walgreens before you go. Thank goodness you didn't have ebola.

I Still Have A Minnesota Driver's License...

From the Washington Post, "Reliable Source" column penned by Richard Leiby:

"Garrison Keillor is urging fellow author, radio host and Minnesotan Al Franken to take the plunge and prepare for a U.S. Senate bid (as a Democrat, natch). "Al ought to give up radio, which is awfully hard work for a TV guy like himself, and establish residence in Minneapolis, near where he grew up, and get himself a late-model car and drive around and see the state. It's a wonderful place and, doggone it, people would like him," Keillor said in an interview published Saturday on Salon.com. "I'll do some fundraisers for him myself."

The man from Lake Wobegon calls Franken "a natural on the stump -- he has a terrific grin that makes people feel good, unlike so many Midwestern liberals who are about as warm as a concrete block." Keillor, an ardent foe of current Republican Sen. Norm Coleman, rules out a race of his own. "Writing is the best way to spend what time is left to me," says the 62-year-old. "Sit at my dining room table and try to write what is given to me to write -- a comic novel, a sonnet, a Lake Wobegon story, a parody of the president, a limerick about a lady named Reba who cried out in rapture, 'Ich liebe,' a rhapsody to homegrown tomatoes." You betcha."

But for the fact that uber-con Minnesota Secretary of State Mary Kiffmeyer doesn't count absentee ballots unless they're cast for the right (ask anyone about the Mondale/Coleman race, or click here), I would most certainly do my best to cast my vote for Franken.

Settling Down, Figuring Out

It's amazing how long it takes to get settled, once you move. There are the obvious steps, putting things away, painting, getting your mail forwarded, but there are so many other intangible things to do before you can really feel at home. Like meeting your neighbors, figuring out where the nearest grocery store is, and where the nearest 7-11 is when you just don't have the energy to walk all the way to Safeway just for C2, cream, and gum.

Trying to put my house in order makes me focus on putting my life in order. Now that I'm in the place where I want to be, residentially speaking, am I in the place where I want to be in other aspects of my life? Job, relationships, health, experiences? I think a little bit of self-examination, every so often, is a good thing. For me, I find that it's a lot easier to take inventory of all of these other things while I'm sorting through old papers and clothes. Finding reminders of goals that I once held, relationships that I once had (or still have!) helps me to figure out whether I'm happy with the track that I am on.

And in addition to being the catalyst for deep, penetrating soul-searching, throwing out half of your closet makes the room look really nice. I highly recommend it.

Presidentin' is HARD!

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/politics/administration/whbriefing/

Apparently, according to CBS News, President Bush has spent approximately 20% (254 days) of his term at his ranch in Crawford. Add to that his time spent at Camp David and in Kennebunkport at the Bush Family Compound, and you're looking at more than 40% of his term. FORTY PERCENT!!!! No wonder the White House is "self-conscious" about those totals.

I guess it's true that US Government workers really do get off easy.

Always the trendsetter

JanieMo, once again (as always), finding the very best o'the web...

http://www.sweetjesusihatebilloreilly.com/