22 and need money?

Facebook is a little creepy the way they tailor their ads to each user. My personal info says I am 'single' and 'interested in men.' Naturally, they put all these dating site ads on the sidebar.

Single? Find lists of hotties in your area.

Meet five guys in five minutes.

Lately though, they've been getting more intrusive.

Not returning your calls? How to tell if he's lost interest. Avoid the mistakes women make.

Tired of waiting? Meet your future spouse.

Stop judging me, website.

don't be a bangchang

Laura and I went to the Folklife Festival on the national mall this year. Featured were NASA (what?), Texas (eh), and Bhutan. Naturally we spent most of our time in Bhutan (located between India, Tibet, and China, FYI).

My favorite thing to hit up at these events is the cooking shows, so we stopped by the Bhutan Kitchen. Everyone was asking a man and a woman about the food used in Bhutanese cooking. Some people were showing off their knowledge of eastern cuisine. Do you eat sampa in Bhutan? And can you explain to everyone what sampa is?

After countless questions about specific ingredients, the host took a moment to explain the cultural practice of eating in Bhutan. He said, In Bhutan, we do not live to eat. We eat to live. It is seen as a necessity. We do not kill animals to eat, out of respect for life. Many Buddhists do not consider that they are feeding themselves, but that they are making an offering to the Buddhas inside them.

This is definitely in contrast to the way I eat. I live to eat, for sure. I'm constantly entertaining myself with food and thinking about my next meal. I'm not sure what exactly 'the Buddhas' inside you means, but I do appreciate the idea of eating as more of a spiritual practice than just stuffing your face. I think most religions that I have heard of view eating as a spiritual and often communal practice.

I rarely went to church this past year, as I had sold my soul to the devil. Well...I mean, normally I went into work on Sundays, so....potato, potahto.

Anyway, I have been glad to get back to CR this summer. Now, none of my friends who used to go to church with me live in the area anymore, so I just go alone. I'm secure enough to at least sit there alone, even though no one ever sits in the chairs to my immediate right or left. It's an unspoken rule, you know? Don't sit directly next to someone you don't know unless you have exhausted all other possibilities. But I digress...

One of the preachers (ministers? whatever) was talking about communion. She said how, whatever your beliefs about it, communion is meant to be a type of meal. It's a normal, everyday habit that can be a way to listen to God and be in community with other people. If we approach it that way and make it a habit to listen to God, every meal can be a type of communion.

She then announced that we were going to have Ice Cream Communion after regular communion. I was so pumped. Then she said that there would be color-coded slips of paper so that you could find people who lived in the same area as you and talk with them based on conversation starters.

Oh. I dislike organized conversation, especially when I am alone and become that girl that other people think they have to involve and befriend. So, I peaced out on Ice Cream Communion. But I like the idea.

aduuuuuult swiiiiiiiiiim

recently...

highs:

• walking past 3 girls near Gallery Place who were just standing around singing Weak by SWV and joining in with them...music brings the world together, man
• not being able to keep secrets from my friends
• lots of pool action and not feeling at all guilty for enjoying the freedom of a summer without a job
• picnics with friends
• randomly stopping by the lake by myself and ending up taking an hour-long walk all the way around it and seeing 2 great blue herons skimming the surface and other nature stuff
• swimming in the Potomac

huhs:

our lifeguards at the apartment pool - they are all Russian, have mullets, do random sets of pushups while on the job, and pull their Speedos into thongs as they tan...I just keep comparing them to Columbia lifeguards, who could never pull off shenanigans like that

closest things to drive-ins I can find

On my to-do list for the past several summers has been to eat at the top of the Hotel Washington. It's an old hotel with a restaurant on it's rooftop terrace overlooking the White House, the Lincoln Memorial, and the Potomac. I haven't been in many years and have been talking about it with Julie. Before she gets married, I was going to take her out to a romantic dinner there with me. Well...apparently it is closed for renovation and will reopen with the name 'W.' Lame.

I realize I must plan ahead and carpe the diem a little better, so here is a list of current summer festivities in which I might want to partake. If you know of any other happenings, please tell me and I will add them if they sound interesting. Also, let me know if you know of any other rooftop dining options in DC.

Folklife Festival: June 25-29, July 2-6
DC

Bee Movie (I hear it's good) at the Lakefront: July 7
Columbia

Artscape (feat. Ne-Yo on the 19th): July 18-20
Baltimore

restaurant week: July 26 or August 3
Baltimore

The Apartment at Screen on the Green: August 4
DC

Cinderella Man at the Open Air Film Festival: August 22
Baltimore

it takes 3 years to grow out

I have been having (or remembering) the craziest dreams lately. I don't know if this speaks more about my mental state or about the quality of my sleep.

There was the Johann one.

There was one where I was getting married, but when the groom showed up, it was this guy from high school that I didn't like. When I complained about this to my family, they replied, Well, there are a bunch of groomsmen to choose from. All of these guys, I might add, were wearing salmon colored shirts with casual cotton teal suits.

Recently, there was the one where my nemesis (I will let you assume on your own who that may be) sneakily chopped off my hair to donate to Locks of Love. I wonder if the symbolism there is similar to the losing teeth symbolism.

I switch tenses when I write

Allow me to indulge in my latest obsession for a moment: The Bachelorette

I began this season as a big fan of DeAnna. She was one of the finalists in the runnings for the heart of Brad, a previous Bachelor. She seemed the obvious choice, but was turned down by The Bachelor along with her competitor. From the episodes I saw, she seemed genuine and fun. I was excited to see her as The Bachelorette with a new chance at love.

DeAnna goes down a notch in my book with every episode. She grills the guys as if it’s a job interview and tells them to ‘open up.’ On tonight’s episode, she was hanging out with one of the guys, Graham, immediately after hanging out with another guy. She practically demanded that he kiss her, and he told her he doesn’t want to be ‘one of a bunch’ and it’s hard for him to know that she’s acting the same with all the other guys. Well, this does not go over so well with DeAnna the Diva. She immediately got all angry and told him that it’s all about her. Later in the episode, the guys tried to make a fun little barbecue and invite her to it. She seemed annoyed that the guys were enjoying each other’s company instead of fawning over her completely. She attempted to regain the spotlight with her feminine wiles. Can you roll up my sleeves for me? When this tactic failed to garner her the attention she desired, she turned to yelling. One of the guys kinda had a bad attitude at the barbecue, and she took it out on all of them. She yelled that she knew it was hard for, but they were going to have to deal with it, since the show was about her straightening out her own feelings (implying that theirs didn’t matter).

What a self-centered drama queen. I am no longer routing for my favorite men (Jesse, Graham, and Jason) to stay in the runnings, because they could do better. Get out while you can, guys.

This leads me to wonder how 25 men could believe that they are truly in love with one woman - especially a woman who I see as obnoxious. Is it just that she’s attractive, or is it that they’re in this artificial reality where “falling in love” is the best way to occupy your time? Would they be this crazy about her if she had just sat next to them in Psych 100 back in college (for example)? How much does your environment affect your feelings for someone? How much do our own surroundings affect how we feel about people every day without us even realizing it?

Just pondering.

you can trust me

So I had a dream about my nephew a few days ago. I dreamt my sister wanted me to bring him to work and watch him for the day. So I did, and I was showing him off to coworkers. Only, he was black. And I remember saying to someone, Yeah, he looked white when he was born, but you know how babies change color.

Well eventually, he was white again, but by that time he was a girl. A very cute girl. This was probably also the time I realized I had left his (her) diaper bag at my sister's house. Woops! I decided I would just have to wait to feed her until we left work. So I ws carrying her around, and suddenly, her pants were missing. So I was crawling around looking for them, thinking Kirsten will kill me if I lose her pants! Or if she finds out I'm not feeding her. Then suddenly, things took a turn for the worse. I looked down at her, and I was only holding her shirt and bib. Where did the baby go!?!

I searched frantically and finally found the baby hiding under a bed. Seriously? She was crouched under there, obviously hiding from me on purpose. So I picked her up and put her next to the bed, which she held onto and stood upright next to. Amazing! Again, I turned to a coworker to show her how amazing this baby was. Standing up at only a month and a half!

And then...she fell. She dented the side of her head, and it turned all red. At this point, what else could go wrong? I picked her up and rushed her off to...somewhere...to take care of her head. Then my mom showed up and said, Kirsten's worried. You were supposed to be emailing her hourly updates to tell her how much he's eating.

What!? I replied. I'm at work. I can't email her. It's 1:30; my kids have been back from recess for an hour. Who's watching them!?!? This was a bad idea. Then I confessed that I had in fact left the diaper bag at home, and the baby hadn't eaten all day.

Why don't you just give him some juice?

Juice?

Clearly, I had forgotten that this baby could drink juice. I poured him/her two cupsfull of cranberry juice, which he guzzled down quickly and spilled all over his/her face, Cookie Monster style. I noticed his diaper was wet. Then he started peeing out of his diaper, with great force. Pee was squirting out of his pants everywhere, so I stood him in a bucket, which started filling up very quickly.

This was the last thing I remember.

Huh.