I've kept you in suspense long enough.

Hello Dear Readers,
The story of my papal experience is a funny one, of course. After running around like a mad woman on Tuesday night (first stop: Dave and Hex's to get camera, take pictures with Remi and get an invite for dinner, followed by Tracy's to get Hokies camping chair, watch the end of the Biggest Loser, and tour her deck, followed by trip to Giant for provisions of peanut butter and jelly, Goldfish crackers, trail mix and bottled soda, then home to pack up and eat dinner) I finally felt prepared to see the pope. I set my alarm clock for 5:30am and fell asleep at 1:00am.

The morning came way too fast, but because I was CERTAIN that every person in the world was going to line the pope's route, I decided I had to forge on with my plan. My hair was mildly straight from the day before, and I didn't feel too dirty, so I decided not to take a shower so I could get downtown even faster and get an even better seat! I parked in Georgetown and started walking. The first person I encountered was Julie Carey, reporter for NBC 4 news, along with her camera crew.
Here's a rundown of how our conversation went:

Julie: (eyeing my camping chair and backpack) "Excuse me, are you headed to see the pope?"
Kim: "Yes. Yes I am."
J: "Oh that's great! I've been walking up and down Pennsylvania Avenue looking for people who have come early to get a good view, but no one's here yet. Since you're the first person I've seen, would you mind going over to our news truck to do an interview?"
K: "You mean nobody's here yet?"
J: "That's right. Can we do an interview?"
K: "Ummm ... did you walk all the way down to the White House?"
J: "I did. No one is here. Can we do that interview now?"

That's right, people. At 6:00am, I was officially the first person to secure my spot on the popemobile route. If that doesn't get me a ticket into heaven, I don't know what will! And let's not forget how I got 4 hours of sleep and didn't shower, so I had to conduct said interview looking like a half-dead, disheveled version of myself. Plus I was a little sweaty from the 50 pounds of gear I was hauling, so let's just say I'm more than glad that no one caught my interview when it aired later in the morning. If they had, I think I would have looked something like this...

So after my interview, I went to find the perfect popemobile viewing area. I settled in at the corner of 22nd and Pennsylvania. The time? 7:30am. This was the mob scene I had to fight to get my spot:

Needless to say, I was pretty bored for the first 3 hours of my journey. Luckily I had yet another reporter and camera crew come by to keep me company. On the ONE DAY that I don't shower and I'm sleepy and sweaty, not one but TWO people ask to interview me. A girl can go her whole life without being interviewed, but it happens to me twice in as many hours, and I look like a mess. This next reporter was from the Associated Press, and he asked me the same questions as the first reporter. I contemplated filling out a FAQ sheet and just handing it out to every reporter that requested an interview so I could save my voice for when the pope arrived, but I felt that would seem like I was trying to take attention away from pope ... but dare I say, for a few short hours, I was getting more press coverage than he was!

Eventually more people arrived and after a mere 6 hours, the popemobile passed me in about 6 seconds. But it was an amazing 6 seconds! As you'll see, I was joined by thousands of other papal well-wishers, as well as more police and secret service than I knew existed. Here are some photos of the event, and thank you to everyone who kept me company that day with their phone calls and texts! I'll put in a good word for you with the Big Guy Upstairs!

He's Heeeeere!

It's the moment every good little Catholic girl dreams about... the pope has come to town! While I did not get a ticket to the mass he's saying at the Nationals Stadium on Thursday (I put my name in my church's lotto but alas, the Lord had other plans for me.) I have mapped the route that the popemobile will be taking to get the pope around town.

My plan is to get up at around 5am tomorrow morning, armed with Dave's camera and Tracy's camping chair, go downtown to the corner of Pennsylvania Avenue and Rock Creek Park, and sit for 6 hours until the popemobile drives by. Having seen the pope when he came to St. Louis in 1999, my sister was able to offer me a bit of advice: stand on a corner so the popemobile has to turn in front of me, because despite its cumbersome size, that thing can pick up some serious speed on the straight-away. I'm not going to sit around for 6 hours to see a blur in white whiz by me at 45mph.

I'll have pictures to share (hopefully!) on Thursday. I'm fully expecting the whole thing to turn out like it did on The Golden Girls, when Sophia went to see the pope when he came to Miami, and when he was shaking her hand, his papal ring fell off into her hand. Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's going to happen to me. Wish me luck!

Why would you leave TV on for cat?

It's always difficult to get out of bed on a Monday morning, but today was unusually difficult. I slept with my window open, so at 4:17am I woke up to the sound of birds chirping. It was mildly relaxing, so I fell back asleep. Then at 6:00am I woke up to the sound of gunshots. Yes, gunshots. I listened for a minute while I decided whether or not I should call the cops (I mean, I live in Clarendon. People look at you funny if you are talking too loud on your cellphone, so gunshots are beyond rare.) and then I heard the shots again, then again. I finally figured out that the Old Guard boys across the street at Fort Myer were doing some kind of practice, maybe for a presentation for the Pope?? At any rate, I have a mind to go over there are complain about the 21-gun salute they chose to perform at 6am. Yes, Tracy, if I go over to complain, you can definitely come with me.

After I fell back asleep after the gunshot incident, I had one of my "I'm really good friends with a celebrity" dreams. I never dream that I'm dating or married to a celebrity, I just dream that I'm really, really good friends with them. In past dreams, I've done everything from trying to talk Courtney Cox out of getting a divorce, to playing footsie with Nick Lachey at a bed & breakfast we purchased together. In every dream, I remember thinking "Celebrities are just people. How come I'm not friends with more of them?"

So last night's dream was the MOTHER of all "I'm really good friends with a celebrity" dreams. In this dream, I was BFF with Mr. David Beckham!! He came to my office to pick me up and we just walked around the city together (although the city wasn't DC, it was Las Vegas). Occasionally people would come up to him and be like, "Oh my GOD! Can I get a picture with you??" and I would just stand off to the side, letting people take away from my time with David because, after all, we were best friends... I could hang out with him anytime.

Then we got into his Maserati and we were looking at houses that were for sale. He showed me a picture of one of the homes he wanted to buy and it looked like a castle. He said "Wouldn't it be amazing to live in a castle?" and for some reason my answer was, "You live in a place called Beckingham Palace! What more do you want?" and then I told him that "Beckingham Palace" was a "queer" name for a residence and we both got a good laugh about that. Then we exited the car and started to play "kick the can" with some kids on the street, then I had to go back to work because Brent was going to be upset that I was gone for so long! I didn't want to wake up! I just wanted to fall back asleep and continue my dream.

This weekend I met the cats I'm taking care of next weekend for my petsitting job. They were really sweet, and I can't wait to get started. This isn't a picture of the cat, but boy this is a cute picture, isn't it?

Woof! Woof!

I know, I know… I’m an awful blog-keeper. But with a life as exciting as mine, it’s hard to choose what to write about!!

Well, I guess the most exciting thing to write about is the fact that I got a second job! I’m working for a company called Fetch! PetCare, and I will be a dogwalker/petsitter. I am really excited about it because I love aminimals so much and since I can’t have any pets in my apartment (though my landlord made an exception for the roaches that infested my dirty neighbor’s apartment!) I thought this was a good way to interact with dogs and cats, plus I’ll get paid for it! It’s a national company and my boss is soooo sweet – I met her this weekend and we talked for a really long time, so I was really glad she offered my a position. I might even get to go on my first assignment next weekend! YAY!
And this job came along at the perfect time, because I was actually considering getting a robotic dog to keep me company. Before you say what a loser I am, just know that I’ve always lived with dogs or cats, and now that Adam’s doggie is gone I don’t even get to interact with dogs in the office anymore. But luckily for me, I won’t have to get a robotic dog and people won’t think I’m crazy.

I also had dinner with my dear friend Dave last night at a very swanky, upscale Arlington restaurant named … El Pollo Rico! It’s my favorite place to get a delicious bird.

And finally, I am very grateful to Dave and Hex for providing me with ample soil to help my tiny plants grow. Here they are, in all their glory. (the Pepsi can was added to show scale, so please don’t think I’m the kind of girl that sits around with soda cans laying around ... and without a coaster!! Uh-uh … not this girl!)

Hungry Like Wolf?

So there I was, walking back to the office after my usual morning Starbucks run, and who should I see walking towards me but none other than Mr. Wolf Blitzer!

He was carrying a briefcase and walking briskly to Starbucks. It's strange because when I got back to the office and spread the news of my celebrity sighting, Lori said that she saw him in Starbucks earlier in the morning. The man must really need his coffee! Also, she said that Wolf checked her out! So I'm going to be the first to start spreading a Wolf Blitzer infidelity rumor. Wolf hearts Lori!!

In unrealated news, I was approached last night by a giantic wild beast of a cat! Okay, it was just a housecat that must have been a mix of some very large breeds because she easily was 30 pounds. I started to pet her, then I went inside to set down my groceries and grab a can of cat food for her (while I do not have a cat, I keep cans of cat food because there are quite a few cats that roam the area around my apartment). I figured she would have already run off to chase birds or something, but when I came back outside, she was waiting by the door for me. I fell in love. She was declawed (I would never do that to a cat, but if I ever got a cat someone would have had to have them declawed first because my couch would make a good scratching post) and soooo sweet. I pet her for a while and then all of a sudden she darted off. So I guess we weren't meant to be. I can't have pets in my building anyway, but if I could, i definitely would have stolen this cat!

I'm an addict.

I’ve been trying to top each of my pranks with even bigger, more creative pranks. I can’t stop myself. I believe I have a practical joke addiction. I can hear the words of Mrs. Schnoring, my 8th grade teacher, echoing in my head, “There’s a time and a place for that type of nonsense, Miss Burke.” I think I have officially turned into Jokey Smurf.


All I want to do is come up with innovative, daring practical jokes, and I’m losing sight of the fact that they are jokes. The stunts I’ve started to pull aren’t even funny! For example, last night in the parking garage I saw that co-worker Dave’s convertible top on his Miata was down. Unable to resist my desire to do something funny to his car (in the past I have affixed “secret admirer” notes to his windshield, and left a single tortilla chip on his dashboard) I reached in, turned the ignition, and severed his brake line. Just kidding!! (see, even in the context of explaining that I can’t stop with the jokes, I make a joke. I’ve got a disease!) I turned his ignition, and then I turned up the volume on his radio and then turned off the car, hoping that when he got in the car he would think that the parking attendant was blasting the stereo as he parked his car. Or I don’t even know what outcome I was hoping for … it was just an aimless practical joke.

I’m pathetic … but I’m not alone. I just read a story about a doctor who had a skeleton in his office, and he attached fishing wire from the arm of the skeleton to his desk. In the middle of a consultation with a patient, he would start to pull on the fishing wire, thus causing the skeleton’s arm to start moving, and thus freaking out his patients. Is it wrong that after reading about this, I briefly considered becoming a doctor just to be able to pull a similar prank??? I need help.

Mean things I’ve done to Erin Doyle

Through some self-reflection, as well as describing my actions to my cousin Chris, who replied with “KIM! Why are you so mean to this girl?” I have decided that perhaps sometimes I cross the line and am mean to Erin Doyle. She’s a very sweet girl … in fact, I refer to her as my little buddy. But for some reason I just can’t help doing mean things to her just for a few laughs. I swear I think she likes the attention. But anyway, you can be the judge … in the three years I’ve know Erin, here are some of the things I’ve done to her that might be considered mildly mean-spirited:

- When she got into my car recently, I told her not to put on her seatbelt and then I slammed on my brakes. (She wasn’t hurt at all.)
- When I got into the backseat of Laura’s Jeep, I sat behind Erin, who was in the passenger seat. Erin had moved up slightly but I asked her to move up further. When she went to scoot up, I pushed her seat from behind so her knees hit the dashboard.
- I accused her of hooking up with the homeless man that lives in the alley behind our office.
- When I discovered that she had stored her yogurt on my shelf in the company refrigerator, I accidentally knocked her yogurt on the floor.
- At Christmastime, I called her a mean little elf. Recently I told her that she looks like a mean little sea monkey.
- I used the scary spare arm from the BSUR mannequin to poke her and brush her hair.
- When she posted her bedroom furniture for sale on Craigslist, I made up a guy’s email address on Yahoo and I responded to her ad saying “That bed looks familiar … didn’t I hook up with you after Clarendon Ballroom one night?”
- When she responded with an embarrassing comment to my company-wide email regarding an employee, I doctored her email to make it look like she responded to the whole company and I sent it to her saying, “Did you mean to send this to everyone?”
- I told everyone she has VD.
- She was really hungover at work one day and I refused to take her home, and instead I bombarded her with internet images of liquor and beer.
- I called her godless and laughed when Dave called her barren.
- I glued her big eraser to her desk.
- I helped Dave break the antlers off the hand-carved moose pen her sister bought her.
- I invited myself on her vacation to visit her parents, and then I demanded that she sleep on the couch so I could have her bed.
- I helped Dave spread a rumor that she has overly-sweaty palms.

You have to admit, some of these are pretty funny! Some of my best work, if I do say so myself. I’m just helping her to become less sensitive … she should thank me! Erin, if you are reading this, you’re welcome!

Céad míle fáilte!

It’s St. Paddy’s Day, wee lads and lassies! Time for the wearin’ o’ the green! Time to sing songs like “When Irish Eyes are Smiling” and “Dear Old Donegal” (just ask me and I’ll sing for you the fast part at the end with all the Irish surnames!) and everyone’s favorite, “Who Threw the Overalls in Mrs. Murphy’s Chowder?”. Everyone is in good spirits on St. Patrick’s Day!

Everyone, that is, except my coworker. To protect her identity, I’ll call her Tori. This morning, I came beaming into the office and greeted everyone with a “Top o’ the mornin’ to ya!” in my impeccable Irish accent. I know some people forget that today is St. Patrick’s Day (heaven forbid!) so as a way to make everyone feel as welcome as the flowers in May, I bring small green items to give to people who forgot to wear their green. Today I decided to bring St. Patrick’s Day themed temporary tattoos. So cute, right?? Everyone took me up on my offer to pick out a tattoo to show they were Irish, or at least an honorary Irish person for the day. When I so graciously offered a tattoo to Tori, she practically threw daggers at me with her eyes. In a voice reminiscent of the girl from “The Exorcist”, Tori informed me that she hates St. Patrick’s Day. “I’m not Irish and I’m not Catholic, so I hate St. Patrick’s Day.”

I quickly took a step back from Tori’s side, so as not to receive a painful burn from the lightning bolt that was sure to strike at any moment. Who can hate St. Patrick’s Day? No one I’ve ever met from here to the Emerald Isle has ever hated St. Patrick’s Day. Growing up, I attended Holy Infant School, run by the Sisters of Mercy from County Meath, Ireland. Every St. Paddy’s Day, the whole town would come out for the school’s festival, which included performances by the Holy Infant Irish Dancers (yours truly danced for 3 years) and McNamara’s Band (the schoolboys couldn’t dance so they got to partake in the singing portion of our routine). We even got a day off from school for St. Patrick’s Day! So it stands to reason that no one I’ve ever met has hated such a wonderful day.

Therefore, I’m on a mission today. If it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to get Tori in the St. Paddy’s Day spirit. I’ve been bombarding her with email images (shown below) that exemplify the essence of Ireland. I’ve sent her St. Paddy’s Day trivia and let her know that other faiths believe in Saints, not just us Catholics. I told her how two women in a convertible threw green beads at me as I waited to cross the street this afternoon, just because I’m wearing green. I even played Irish music throughout the front office, and yes, I danced a jig for Tori from my days as an Irish dancer. That seemed to make her smile (ok, laugh) but I haven’t converted her yet. But I will, or my name isn’t Kimberly Kathleen Burke. As they say in Ireland, Slán agus beannacht leat.

It's all about me!

So I had big plans to blog today, but instead got tied up filling out this email survey that designer dave sent to me. So I decided to post it for all to see ... Happy Weekend, everybody!

1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE? Between 4 cousins, 3 of us have “Kathleen” in our names somewhere, so it’s a family name.
2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED? I’m sure I cried watching American Idol last night.
3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING? Yes, but I’m changing it all the time.
4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT? Smoked Turkey
5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS? No.
6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON, WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU? Hell yeah!
7. YOU USE SARCASM A LOT? Oh no, not at all. :)
8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS ? Yes.
9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP? I doubt it.
10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL? Fiber One Honey Clusters or Fruit Loops.
11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF? No, but I re-tie them when I put them on.
12. DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG? Yes.
13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM? Butter Pecan.
14. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE? Their hair and their laugh.
15. RED OR PINK? Have you seen my apartment??? Red. Definitely red.
16. WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF? I need to be better with managing my money.
17. WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST? I miss my sister. I wish we lived closer to one another.
18. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO SEND THIS BACK TO YOU? Yes!
19. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING? Jeans and black Pumas.
20. WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE? A bagel. It’s Friday and it’s Lent, so I had to forego my usual turkey bacon sandwich from Starbucks.
21. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW? The sound of Kathleen typing and a 90’s mix on Rhapsody. Currently “Machine Head” by Bush is on.
22. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE? Yellow.
23. FAVORITE SMELLS? Peonies! Stargazer lilies. Anything fresh or clean-smelling. Freshly cut grass. Autumn crispness.
24. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE? Lori, because she is home sick but we have 2 Kohl’s orders shipping today.
25. DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS? I like him a lot.
26. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH? Baseball, hockey, football – in that order.
27. HAIR COLOR? Blonde
28. EYE COLOR? Green/hazel
29. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS? No.
30. FAVORITE FOOD? Potatoes and cheese, but not together. And balsamic vinegar.
31. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS? I like them both.
32. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED? Thirteen, and before that Michael Clayton. I did not like either!
33. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING? Black.
34. SUMMER OR WINTER? Spring and fall.
35. HUGS OR KISSES? Yes please.
36. FAVORITE DESSERT? Cherry pie.
37. MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND? ?
38. LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND? Dave, because he sent it to me.
39. WHAT ARE YOU READING NOW? This email ... duh! Haha, just kidding. I’m between books at the moment, so I’m reading a lot of Newsweek and People.
40. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD? Starry Night.
41. WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON T.V. LAST NIGHT? The Golden Girls (I watch at least 1 episode every day) and American Idol.
42. FAVORITE SOUND? Ocean waves, cardinals chirping, laughter.
43. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES? Rolling Stones.
44. WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME? Cancun. I need to change that!
45. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT? I can make people laugh. Hard.
46. WHERE WERE YOU BORN? St. Louis, MO.
47. WHOSE ANSWERS ARE YOU LOOKING FORWARD TO GETTING BACK? Everyone’s!
48. WHAT TIME IS IT NOW? 10:37am.
50. FAVORITE QUOTE. You have to laugh at yourself, because you’d cry your eyes out if you didn’t. –Emily Saliers

As difficult as pi??

Why do they say that something is “as easy as pie” when “pie” is not a very easy thing to do? On Sunday night, I attempted to make an apple pie, and it was sooo not easy. First I had to peel and core the apples, which sounds simple until you realize that all you have in your kitchen that’s suitable for “peeling” or “coring” is a butter knife or a steak knife. Have you ever tried to do something as delicate as peeling an apple with a steak knife? I’m just lucky that all of my appendages are still intact.
Then the directions stated that I’d need to put my pastry mixer on low to create the crust topping. Uhhh … my pastry mixer? I don’t even own a regular mixer, let alone one just for mixing pastries. I found a whisk that I thought would be a feasible substitute for said pastry mixer, but the crust never made it to the crumbly consistency that the instructions told me to achieve before pouring it over my apples. So I used nature’s pastry mixer, aka my hands. Crumbly was finally accomplished!

Clearly this pie was anything but easy. So I started to think that perhaps I’m misunderstanding the phrase … maybe it’s supposed to be “as easy as pi” but pi isn’t easy. It’s a constant, and it’s an irrational number (thank you, Mrs. McGuire, my 10th grade Algebra teacher) but it’s not easy at all.

Eating pie is pretty easy, so I started to think that maybe the saying is “as easy as eating pie” but I know I’ve never heard that before. So I’m starting a petition to banish the phrase “as easy as pie” from our vocabulary and am investigating who I can sue for false advertising. Surely there has to be some Pie Council somewhere that is just thrilled that they have successfully fooled the public into believing pie was easy. I’m on to you, Pie Council. Sleep with one eye open.

It's Tuesday. Stuart's father left us on a Tuesday....

So I wouldn't say that I've been ignoring my blog, but rather that I have decided to give more attention to other things. Things like Scrabulous and Smarty Pants on Facebook. I had no idea I was so competitive, but I really am! Today I moved into 8050th place worldwide in Smarty Pants with a score of 252,200! Woot! And I have so many Scrabulous games going on I'm now only using words that contain letters worth 5 or more points. It's horrid. No, Horrible. No, Horrendous! Double word points for me!!!



I have an interview next week for the pet-sitting job I applied for. It'll be a lot of work, but considering that I like animals more than I like some people, it will hopefully be a good match! It will be a good way to spend more time with four-legged friends since I can't have them in my apartment.

And finally, a word for Tony Pepperoni ... if you're reading this, I'm seriously mad at you. Laura and I used to have lots of fun in our carpool, but now you've made her very sad and all we discuss is why you won't call her. You are stupid and frankly I think Laura is better off without you!

Hey! Isn't that ... ??

I’ve realized that I think I see famous people way more than the average person. At least once a day I think I see a celebrity. It doesn’t help that my office contains two huge windows that overlook M Street, and if a celebrity is in town there’s a good chance that they will at some point walk past my window. It’s happened before with a tiny little chain-smoking celebrity named Eva Longoria-Parker (though she was just Eva Longoria back then) and more recently with Mia Farrow.

But more often, I’ll hear the next day that someone wildly famous was in town and they were spotted walking along M Street in Georgetown … they were right under my nose and I missed them! That’s happened before with George Clooney, Catherine Zeta-Jones, Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt. So because there’s a real likelihood that I could see a celebrity, I’m constantly getting faked out by people who just look like celebrities.

Case in point: Monday night at the grocery store I actually went a couple aisles out of my way to follow a man I was CERTAIN was Homeland Security Director, Michael Chertoff. (it’s DC … to me, politicians fall under the category of “celebrity”, especially when they get cool guys in black suits and earpieces following them around.) But I was wrong because I saw faux-Michael Chertoff in the parking lot putting his groceries in a beat-up old 4Runner.

That same grocery store visit I thought I saw Johnny Cochran in the produce section. Yes, I know he’s dead. But the man still has to eat! Ok, no he doesn’t … but the guy I saw looked JUST like him.

Recently I thought I saw Nancy Reagan coming out of Kiehl’s across the street. But I understand that trips to Kiehl’s might be difficult when you’re hospitalized with a hip fracture.

And then there was the time that I was SURE I saw Janet Reno in the elevator, but Dave later forwarded me a news article detailing how Janet Reno was in a car accident in Florida at the time I thought I was in the elevator with her.

So the moral of my post today is: If I tell you that I saw a celebrity/politician, I’m probably mistaken. But then again, Eva Longoria, maybe I’m not.

Practical jokes aren't always practical.

Today I learned that it isn't nice to drench a paper towel in a gross perfume that smells like pancake syrup and tape it under a co-worker's desk, even if that co-worker says that nothing annoys her. Such an activity can lead to headaches, nausea, temporary blindness, and a loss of smell. Who knew?? Sorry Lori.

Where does the time go?

In between watching the total eclipse of the moon and going to the gym every night this week (Zumba again tonight, albeit with an easier instructor) I have run out of time to pen my blog. But don't worry, loyal readers - I'll be sure to have an entertaining post tomorrow. I have so much to talk about, like Erin visiting my apartment and discovering that there is a ghost portal directly above my bed! There's never a dull moment :)

For now, I will leave you with a photo of me and my dear friend, Meredith ...

Zoooooomba

Last night’s Zumba class was a killer! I could tell right away that I drank and smoked way too much over the weekend. If you aren’t familiar with Zumba, it’s a Latin-inspired cardio dance class. We do cardio versions of the samba, merengue, cumbia and salsa. You can burn about 600 calories in an average class, but our Monday night class is anything but average! I’m 99% sure our instructor used to be a German prison guard. Just when I think I’m about to pass out, she’ll yell something like “Give me more!” or “Work harder!” I mean, how is that even possible?
Instead of our normal cooldown exercises (slow step-touching, stretching) our instructor had each of us grab a mat so we could lie down to do a horizontal cooldown. I should note that, as a strict germaphobe, I don’t use the mats at the gym because I’d prefer not to contract an antibiotic-resistant staph infection. So my cooldown was spent doing everything I could not to touch the mat. I was trying so hard not to touch the mat or the surrounding floor that I’m pretty sure I achieved the ability to levitate.
Needless to say I was more exhausted AFTER the cooldown than I was prior to it. That might explain why I started seeing spots as I was driving home after class. I was trying to determine if this was a warning sign that I was about to faint at the wheel, but since the gym is only a mile from my house I decided to roll down the window and press my luck. I made it home, but it was touch and go.

I’d like to give a shout out to all of my traveling co-workers that are back in the office today after being on the road at tradeshows since the late 90’s. Oh … they’ve only been away a couple weeks? Well, welcome home anyway! It’s nice to have other people around to take the focus off of me and the mistakes I’m making! You’ve been missed!

Monday, Monday.

Since I'm new at this blogging biz-nas, I (like a dork) wrote down a list of the things that I wanted to write about today.

Random note #1 ... We went on a kegbus for Tracy's birthday this weekend, and on the way to dinner beforehand, Chris, Brent and I saw a man cross the street riding a unicycle. Yes, a unicycle. Who rides a unicycle besides clowns?? Well I was not aware that there was a clown college near the East Falls Church metro, but apparently there is.

RN #2 ... We ate dinner at a place called Elevation Burger. This restaurant is located WELL outside my Clarendon/Ballston/Rosslyn comfort zone in Falls Church, and it totally showed. We arrived to find the parking lot chock full of minivans and Volvos, each containing at least two Eddie Bauer carseats. This should have tipped me off that I was about to enter Yuppie heaven and I should have immediately run the other way. But we entered the restaurant anyway, and let me tell you ... it was like Ann Taylor herself threw up all over every person eating in this place. It was obnoxious. And the thing about yuppie couples is that they feel the need to spread their yuppie seeds by birthing as many children as they can afford to put in Montessori school. The place was crawling with little yuppie children, fresh out of the Mommy-and-Me class at the local gym. The mothers and fathers all socialized ("My Volvo is Baltic Black. What color is your Volvo, Andrew?") while the children occupied every seat in the place, leaving me, Brent and Chris to sit together at a table half-occupied by a 10-foot neon Elevation Burger window sign. Luckily, my veggie burger was delish, as were the french fries and unbaked cookies, so I'll probably go back there tonight.

RN #3 ... The kegbus was amazing! It came with a driver and a hostess. Our hostess was the lovely Kathleen, who remembered that I was from the 314/STL and would therefore drink no beer other than Bud Light. And our driver was also a firefighter/EMT, which came in QUITE handy when Tyler hit his forehead on the bus and we had to decide if he needed stitches (the driver said he didn't need them, so we didn't have to drive the kegbus to the ER). Chris tried to help Tyler by bringing him a cleansing towelette for his wound, but he accidentally brought him a beesting towelette instead so that didn't really help the gash.

RN #4 ... Sunday I watched the Daytona 500, which I find is the perfect thing to do every President's Day weekend when I'm hungover from celebrating Tracy's birthday. 200,000 people attended this year's race, which lead me to believe that I, too, should attend a NASCAR event. Ellen and I will have to decide if we want to go to Dover or to Richmond, and I'll need to get some gear so I blend in. I'm thinking about a Jeff Gordon t-shirt, a camo-colored hunting cap, stonewashed jeans and white hightop sneakers. If anyone else has any ideas to help me blend in with the NASCAR crowd, please share them with me.

OK, back to work. Tonight is Zumba with the really hard instructor! God help me.

Hello World!

So Lori just came into my office and announced she started a blog. "Kim," she said, "why don't you have a blog? Of anyone, YOU should have a blog." So with 11 minutes left in the workday, I have decided to start a blog. Here I am, world! All blogged out. Now I have to come up with funny things to post. Will I have regular readership? A public, if you will? Or will these posts be just for me? Only time will tell. And right now time is telling me that there are 6 minutes left in the workday and so it's time to start collecting my belongings so I can embark on my weekend. OH! There's a kegbus in my weekend plans so I can only imagine that I will have some pretty funny stories to post on Monday!