Author Archives: MALA


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The fork in the road

Crossroads

With the new year right around the corner, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.  I feel as though the last few years have been a lot of the same…  same work, same friends, same  distractions, same goals.

And here’s the deal – I really have no obligations or responsibilities. No mortgage, no husband, no kids. I can be completely selfish and do whatever I want.

So what do I really want?

On the one hand I want to take some classes in archaeology or anthropology… maybe commit to a program and earn a graduate degree.  On the other hand I want to travel everywhere. Then there’s the nagging voice that insists I be practical and save all my pennies to buy property.

The real problem is limited funds.  I can’t afford to do everything.

So I can either : do nothing and next year complain again about how stagnant my life is; choose to make a significant financial commitment to an education or home; or figure out a way to make more money.


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Resigned

 McClellan

Scott McClellan resigned his position today as White House Press Secretary. Anyone the Bush administration appoints to the position will be better than poor Scott.

My friends and I often argued about whether McClellan was the worst press secretary in the history of communications or one of the best.

In the face of telling bald-faced lies to the White House press corps, he remained loyal to the party line. Never budging. Even when he looked completely ridiculous.

That he remained in the position for 2 1/2 years is a testament to his strategy of repeating the same line over and over and over again.

His performances during his press gaggles reminded me of one of my first jobs.

My boss told me in no uncertain terms that I needed to control the message during a controversial event. A bigname speaker was part of the conference and I knew the reporters would want to ask him about his latest research on a cancer drug… which had little to nothing to do with the event.

I was not suave. I was not coy. I did not throw the reporters a bone. I handled the press like Scott McClellan handled the White House press corps. Unyielding. Stubbornly repeating the same information… paraphrasing one line over and over and over again.

The reporters hated me. My boss hated me for being so obvious and appearing like I was hiding something. And I hated me for — in effect — sticking with “No comment.”

(I groan inwardly every time I remember that turning point.)

I learned some valuable lessons that day — learned to trust my judgment and to trust the journalists covering the story. I also gained a deeper understanding of my role as information gatekeeper and facilitator.

But that was nine years ago.

I’m not surprised that McClellan is leaving. I can only say it’s about time.


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Caught in the act

 McCormick and Schmicks

“I’m never drinking again.”

Famous last words right?

I met a good friend out for happy hour on Friday night. I felt giddy because I’d spent the better part of the day emailing back and forth with this guy I work with on some projects. He’s so great … though he lives and works out of CHICAGO. But that’s another story. Let’s just say that Friday was a very long night.

So it all started with me sitting at the bar, sipping my Johnny Walker black, waiting for my friend Kay… when I look over and see Jay, one of my best friends, walk in. I wave and call out to him before I realize he is out with a woman who is NOT his fiancee. Oooooppps.

He rushed over to me with a big hug and a very nervous… “this is a working meeting” … explanation for the reason why he was having drinks with a very leggy, very blond, very busty lady.

Then he asked me what I was doing there and who I was meeting.

That’s when my friend Kay strolled in. Of course, Kay assumed Jay was having a drink with me. So she gives him a big hello and starts asking about the wedding plans and where is his future wife — when he abruptly excuses himself to join the mystery blond.

“Wh…. where’d he go?”

“He had to run to his working dinner,” I said.

“Oh. You know, I’ve noticed that more and more people are having meetings over dinner or drinks. Who’s he meeting with?”

I tilt my head and nod over to the cozy corner table where he is seated across from the blond.

“Oooohhhhhhh. That doesn’t look like a working meeting.”

“I don’t think so,” I said and left it at that.

That was on Friday night. I haven’t spoken or emailed Jay since — which is uncharacteristic.

This is awful… so awkward. I’ve known him for almost seven years. I’m definitely better friends with him than with his fiancee — though I adore her and she worships him.

I want to smack him upside the head.

So now what do I do? If anything? Should I call him and ask him what the hell he’s doing? Should I let it go and act like nothing happened? Should I wait and see what he does or says?


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Happy Spring

spring

It’s hard to believe it’s already spring.

Of course, the weather isn’t cooperating with Mother Nature’s sense of time. It feels more like January than end of March. What happened to the gorgeous 75 degree weather we were loving two weeks ago?

One of my best friends has been moaning and groaning this last month about how bored she is… about how the days and nights are so monotonous… about how nothing interesting happens anymore.

And while my feelings aren’t as extreme as hers, I have noticed that I’ve carved out a seven block area to live my life, rarely venturing outside those borders. Not on purpose mind you, but because that’s just the way my days and nights have worked out.

So, we’re going to rediscover DC.

There are tons of free lectures scheduled every night at the various museums in town, not to mention the fabulous Embassy events, and political fundraisers, and charity benefits, and readings at bookstores and the Library of Congress, and musical performances, and live theater.

I’ve taken my fine city for granted in the latter half of the decade I’ve lived in DC. I know its museums and parks and monuments are there, whenever I choose to seek them out. Living in Dupont Circle, in a vibrant and dynamic neighborhood, I’ve fallen into a routine … rarely venturing out to Capitol Hill or the waterfront or the Brookland neighborhoods.

I’m also known to patronize certain establishments… ie. bars and restaurants where I know the bartenders and/or owners. It’s easier to walk into a place where everyone knows your name — so to speak. And where your friends are sure they’ll find you, and you them.

The Washington Post and Washingtonian and Washington Citypaper are constantly reviewing the fabulous new restaurants opening all over the city. I’ve actually written some of them down, thinking “I’ve got to go there,” only to find out a year or so later that I missed my opportunity because the Brazilian restaurant closed to be replaced by a Thai place.

So to make a long story a little shorter, I think my online identity crisis has passed. I’ll be sharing my adventures into these once familiar places. Taking photos, offering opinions on lectures or performances or on the architecture…. in other words, a mishmash.

Sorry for being absent lately. I just had a few things I needed to work out…. a spring cleaning of sorts.


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Back-ups for your back-ups

backup

A good friend of mine emailed this morning. Her Palm Pilot died and she lost all of her address book information. She hadn’t synced with her desktop or laptop in months, so nothing was backed-up.

That happened to me last year. And from that moment on, I swore I’d keep a paper version of an address book as back-up.

So I hit reply and proceeded to list my contact information… ALL of my contact information.

Let’s see… there’s:

    1. my home phone (I subscribe to basic service on a landline in the event that my cellphones should die or I can’t get online and absolutely positively need to contact someone) and
    2. my personal cellphone number and
    3. my personal email address and
    4. my business cellphone number and
    5. my business email address and
    6. my business website and
    7. my remote office telephone number and
    8. my email address via a client’s server and
    9. my home address and
    10. my parent’s home address (in case I move since I rent and do not own the apartment I currently live in — the idea being that my folks will never move so she’ll always be able to reach me through them).

Phew… that’s how to reach me.

Which got me thinking… on a daily basis I check three voicemail boxes and upwards of five email accounts for messages. And I’m really not all that “plugged in.”

I don’t have a Friendster or MySpace account like some of my techier pals.  I no longer have a PDA or a Sidekick or godforsaken Blackberry.

And since my cameraphone died on me in November, I now use this cheapo Samsung phone that doesn’t support the web. So I pretty much stopped text messaging and IM-ing last year.

I actually remember the days — long gone — when all I needed was my social security number, the five digits to my home phone number, a street address and 5-digit zipcode. Of course, back then, our phones were rotary dial and I had a 13-inch black and white tv in my room.

Hurray for progress and the prophecized paperless society.


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Fuzzy Math

fuzzy math

 

I have a love hate relationship with numbers.

There are some digits I welcome with open arms — like the balance of my checking and savings accounts, phone numbers, and 5:30 on a business day.

Though in general, I’ve always felt a more powerful leaning toward letters, words, language. Some mathematicians argue that theirs is the purest form of communication. I would have to disagree.

While “numbers don’t lie” and “1+1=2” in any language, I have to wonder about the President’s latest request for $120 billion.

Two nights ago he spoke of cutting the budget in half by 2009. Today he’s asking Congress for more cash because the Pentagon is spending quicker than anticipated.

Where is the money coming from? Medicaid? Welfare? Child support? Student aid?

In order to pay for something he aches for, his wars, he is willing to sacrifice domestic social programs — most of which work to ensure the well-being of young Americans.

While the headlines scream that the savings rate hasn’t been this low since the Great Depression, the president is the perfect role model, spending more than he’s budgeted for.

I mean, what’s good enough for George W. is good enough for me, right?

Where’s that IKEA catalog? Let’s see… I need three Billy Bookcases, a new couch, a comfy reading chair, hell …. why not throw in a new dinette set too. I was going to wait a few months to make my purchases in cash, but the president has inspired me to buy on credit.

Actually, forget IKEA. I may as well shop at Restoration Hardware and make those interest payments worth my while. Then again, I could just forget about money altogether and just go bananas at Stickley.

What’s that? I’m not thinking big enough?

You’re right. I think I’ll move. I’ll move into one of those gorgeous penthouse loft apartments with three-bedrooms, five-baths and a terrace in Penn Quarter. I can see the granite counters, teak floors and media room now (though I don’t think anything in Penn Quarter even compares with these apartments in New York City).

If I’m going to blow my budget, I might as well be as unrealistic as possible.

While I’m at it, I’ll go ahead and lease a Maserati Spyder too.

Thank god for credit.


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Walk with care

statue

The other day, I read this article about a guy who toured the Fitzwilliam Museum in Cambridge, England.

The man tripped on a shoelace, “tumbled down a flight of stairs and crashed into” a group of Qing dynasty Chinese vases displayed on a window sill.

Can you imagine? You’re walking through a museum and single-handedly destroy some priceless vases that date back to the 17th century.

It’s my worst nightmare.

In December, my friend John and I visited the Van Gogh drawings at the MET. While we were there I found time to look in on my most favorite exhibit in the world.

The MET’s Egyptian collection and the Sackler Wing is something special… not to be missed if you’re in NYC.

So we visited the remains of ancient Egypt.

A few times, as we strolled between the glass cases filled with artifacts, I could picture what would happen if we leaned too hard against the displays. In my mind, faience beads, amulets, headless statues, and shards of ancient pottery littered the marble floors of the exhibit.

Like I said… it’s my worst nightmare.

On May 26, King Tut will travel from Fort Lauderdale to the Field Museum in Chicago. It’s been thirty years since the Tutankhamun exhibition was last in the US.

Tut’s tomb, discovered in 1923, is the greatest collection of Egyptian antiquities ever found. The find captured imaginations and inspired a generation of treasure hunters.

I guess it’s time for me to travel to the windy city. The last time I was there Cleopatra was in the house. Gosh… four years… it doesn’t feel like it was that long ago.

Are there any exhibits you just have to see? I’m a sucker for ancient Egypt and Greece. What turns your mind on?


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Happy New Year

resolution

It’s the Year of the Dog.

Another chance to start the year anew. Recommit to resolutions. Start fresh.

My Resolutions for 2006:

  1. Love more
  2. Travel more
  3. Write more

January flew by like a blur. Granted I spent most of the month in bed or on the couch, medicated and lethargic.

I got out of the apartment and caught an afternoon show of The Matador in Georgetown. It was awful.

And out of the seven teasers plugging upcoming features only one belonged on the big screen. The others were barely DVD-worthy.

Hollywood keeps lamenting the slump in receipts. Maybe if they produced films worth watching in a multiplex, people would return to the theater and not wait for the movies to show up on HBO or DVD.

This last year was especially bad!

Can you recommend any films for my Netflix queue? And what were your favorite flicks from 2005? Have you made any new New Year’s resloutions?