Bermuda

Always say yes when this girl asks you to go to Bermuda with her.

It's a good thing. Thank you, Laura.

The beautiful couple.

On the rocks, please.


Trying to be tough, hard after too many RBVs.

Leis should always be worn as sashes.

Perfect afternoon, swizzle-style.

Hamilton City Hall

Again, trying to be tough.

Our beach :)

First Rant

Like the majority of us, I have spent years perfecting my Starbucks order. We all know that even when you perfect your order, it is immediately translated into Starbucks language we consumers will never figure out (I'm sure it's a rather simple formula and not some special talent that only the baristas behind the counter are allowed to possess...) Anyway, I only have two orders and I believe they are relatively simple. If I go in the morning, my order is a Iced Venti Two-Pump Soy Chai. I need it big, not too sweet (hence only two pumps of chai), and lactose free. It has taken me years to perfect this order and I like it just the way it is. And I don't mind that I shell out $4.79 for what is basically flavored milk. It is completely worth it. My second order is an Unsweetened Venti Black Iced-Tea. This is normally reserved for hot afternoons in the summer. My third drink is only ordered in the winter months and it is a Grande Mint Hot Chocolate, extra hot.

The above orders might seem a little picky, and yes, a little gay, but they are what I like and the customer is always right, right?! Today I walked over to the starbucks across the street from my office on 24th and M. For those of you that have been to this starbucks, you know that the baristas take pleasure in yelling for your order when you are the 15th person in line and you haven't had enough time to prepare your order. When you aren't ready, they let out an exasperated gasp and stare you down until you feel so exposed, you spit out something that vaguely resembles the order that you have been practicing in your head for the past couple weeks. The feeling of utter failure associated with the jumbled mess that came out your mouth is comparable the failure/embarrassment of mispelling 'salmon' in the second round of the Sixth Grade Spelling Bee (true story). If you don't know what you are going to order, God forbid you take a minute to look at the menu, especially when someone with extremely good handwriting has taken the time to write out "Try our latest seasonal concoction- A Venti Pumpkin Pomegranate, Ginseng-Infused Winter Wonderland Frappachino!" I mean, I'm going to need at least 15 seconds to let the idea of ever drinking something like that sink in.

Anyway, I am at the counter with my co-worker, Betsy, and seeing as it is before Noon, I order my usual Iced Venti Two-Pump Soy Chai, pay and wait for Betsy to decide. Before you yell at me, I did ask Betsy what she wanted, but she was too interested in sampling the chocolate pound cake that had been laid out next to the register. After getting my change back, I make the ten step walk over to the pick up counter (another wonderful think about my iced chai is that it only take about 5 seconds to make). I look over at the exact moment the barista should be finished adding the ice to my drink. She picks up the lid to place it on top when our eyes meet. My eyes are filled with what can only be described as caffeine-deprived fury seeing that there is a two inch gap between where the iced chai stops and where she is placing the lid on the top of the cup. Seeing my anger rising, she removes the lid and my anger starts to ebb. But she doesn't add more soy milk. Oh No. She decides to instead make a Guiness-worthy attempt to see how much ice she can fit into a venti-sized iced chai. My anger reaches a new level, so high I can't even argue as she adds yet another scoop of ice to my drink. I let out a terse thanks and she has the audacity to wish me a happy weekend. I shoot daggers at her and she says "I hope you have a great Friday, at least." I didn't even respond. I was in too much shock. For $4.79, I expect a more than a cup of ice with a splash of chai. Right?!?!

Now I am sitting at my desk taking the tiniest of tiny sips in order to preserve what I have left of my chai as the amount of ice still almost reaches the top of my cup. Unbelievable.

Because I need some cheering up, today's song is Waterloo by ABBA.

NYC/RENT

A group of us went up to NYC this weekend to see RENT. Adam Pascal and Anthony Rapp were reprising their roles as Roger and Mark. They were spectacular. Hearing Adam Pascal's voice in person was unbelievable and I cried a lot more than I thought I would. I kind of felt like that little girl with the pigtails and braces that lost it everytime Sanjaya sang on AI. Ew. I can't believe I mentioned that talentless hack on my blog. Ew.

We arrived at the Chelsea Hotel and found ourselves in the middle of a photo shoot. My friend Laura quickly snapped this shot of the model trapsing down the middle of 23rd St.

The group of us outside of the Nedelander. My ladies (or my Harem as my brother's boyfriend so affectionately referred to them at dinner earlier in the evening).