Hittin' the Skids on Embassy Row


Huh? What is this? The Road to Hell is Clogged with Righteous Hybrids? John Tierney is smoking crack with a headline like that.

I just said hello to one of the Senior Fellows here and with a perplexed look on his face he said, “Do you need something from me?”

That’s right folks; my days as a think tank groupie are numbered. Resignation was tendered shortly after the all-important realization (made on this very blahg!!) that my non-profit, non-partisan benefactor is really just an extra load of karmic debt—something I have plenty of already. Friday will put to rest the nearly five-month ordeal that has wrung my soul dry, and not a moment too soon, cause I’m gettin’ busy with all kinds of new scheming !!

And let me report that I have been busy raising the bar for Southern California girls everywhere. In this latest incident I had the opportunity to chat with a native of Iowa.

“Oh, I know nothing about Iowa,” I remarked with self-deprecation. “All I know is Boise.”

umm..need I say more?

Stay tuned for coming details about the next chapter in the Vince and Lola Adventure Series!

T-10 days to liberation!



I know you’ve all been missin’ Lo, and I can’t say I blame you. I miss her, too.

Things may be grim now, but there is a corner up ahead and who knows what the hell is behind it? Could be more karmic suffering…or it could finally be the party that (as we all know deep inside) life really is. I’m hoping for the party scenario, but I’ll settle for enough duckets to cover the rent.

My story is a little like Anthony and his grocery store. “If that’s moving up then I’m moving out.” Unfortunately, the high road is golden in hue only, and I’m going to have to hustle some in the financial department.


Stay tuned for more adventures to come…

LOLA

Oh what a long, strange trip it’s been..

And it only keeps getting stranger. My last posting was prophetic, in that soon after I articulated the true nature of the think tank industry, my anal retentive supervisor, Big K, told me I would be unable to teach the weekly ESL class I signed up for. I was very upset by this information, and quickly realized that the whole think tank deal just wasn’t cuttin’ it anymore. A large part of what attracted me to this position was the “education friendly” element..that I would be allowed to pursue my own education with financial support from my employer. What I didn’t realize is that I would not be able to get the time off to do it…so the proverbial straw took its place on the proverbial camel’s back and the decision was made for me. Goodbye think tank. Goodbye paycheck. Goodbye bad karma…tomorrow I give my two weeks notice. For obvious reasons, I may not be blahgging too much after I do that…

Now that my stable, well-paid life (ha!) is coming to an end, I am thinking of my future dual career(s) as an ESL teacher in Istanbul (can I get by without Vince for nine months?), and travel agent. If that doesn’t work out, I am psychologically ready to become toothless and homeless. No more monkey hoops for me.

On a related topic, does either of my (two) blahg devotees remember the cherished childhood game Hungry Hungry Hippos? Well Vince and I would like to develop a DC spin off called ANGRY ANGRY ANGLOS. The angry anglos would beat each other with iPods and Starbucks Lattes.



“Ever get the idea you were born in the wrong place, at the wrong time, to the wrong parents? Me too…”

Diagnosis: Karmic Poisoning

Vince and I shared a hearty laugh last night as we acknowledged out loud what we have both suspected already; unbelievably (or maybe not so unbelievably), I managed to relocate us to the only city in the US that is qualitatively more miserable than the Los Angeles and San Diego flagships of Southern California. Ha! Ha! Ha! Isn’t that hilariously ironic? Choke.

A closer look at the "world renowned think tank" I’ve landed in reveals a dysfunctional hive of raw nerves; a quicksand where dulled souls check their personalities at the door. Along with my understanding of what this organization does comes the sense that some grand irony will slowly emerge from my association with it. Ahh mais c’est la vie..

Staffed by a handful of white men with profound egos and well funded by numerous powerful corporate interests (power = money = duh), this highly regarded “non-profit, non-partisan” academic operation churns out studies while jockeying for influence over decision-makers in congress and the administration. This sort of behavior, standard in our nation’s fine capital, was less a problem when I was less aware of it.

For now, I am certain only that I must extricate myself from its sphere of influence as soon as possible. That means a date with my good friend the cover letter this weekend. Oh yeah.

In other developments, it looks as though I may have found a new avenue of creative expression. In keeping with this year’s chosen life theme “Pain Is Gain,” I have sought the opportunity to work longer hours with no pay. I will be teaching a weekly ESL class to a group of about 8 substance abuse outpatients. For some of them, the class is required as part of their parole deals. For me, the class will remind me that there is purpose in my life. A classic win-win situation if I ever saw one. While I am a little nervous, the whole venture is proof that progress is being made, even though it is being wrenched out of me in the most painful way.

Finally, I must express my sincere appreciation for the outpouring of love and support I received from the underground 420 community here in DC. It warmed the dormant cockles of my heart.

Istanbul On My Mind, Among Other Things

Monday night I found myself clinging to the underside of a rocky cliff. My long, buff arms groped for cracks where I might get a better grip. I was understandably tense, but sure enough I managed to pull myself up halfway onto one of the larger rocks. Just when I thought I might actually emerge unscathed, the rock crumbled and I fell to my (presumed) death and/or severe maiming.

As if that wasn't enough, last night I was holding a small white mouse. But this was not a cute, friendly mouse. This was an angry, agitated mouse with teeth. It kept biting me and the more I tried to shake it off the harder it clamped down. As soon as I’d pull it off one hand it would bite the other one, only harder. I wanted to smash the damn thing to death but was too afraid of having mouse blood and organ bits on my hands. I was so frantic that when I finally woke up I was shaking.

Was it the spicy Malaysian dinner we splurged on? Or was it something else…like the beginnings of a brain tumor caused by close proximity to the sinister political workings of a dying nation? Don’t know.


“I’d rather be uneducated than in debt.”