I love the federal government.

What a beautiful Wednesday afternoon! Let's play catch up on my week, shall we? I knew you'd want to.

Let's see. The Hangover with Andrea and her (and now my) awesome friends was to die for. I was laughing so hard I almost peed my pants. To be honest, I didn't want to see the movie when I first saw the previews, but I am so glad I went! I only wish Lindsay could have been there sitting next to me. I would have LOVED to see her reactions. That is definitely a movie I will have to buy when it comes out on DVD, so you should go see it in theatres. Just be prepared for crude language and behavior. Then again, if you are reading this blog, I'm sure you are already used to said behavior and language, and will love it as much as I did! SCORE.

After the movie, Andrea (Annie as she is known here, and I am still getting used to), Laura (loves her, and if you are reading this Laura, follow my blog, this is bullshit, only four followers...), and I went to Paul Kee, a Chinese restaurant near/in Silver Spring. It looked like a hole in the wall/piece of shit restaurant from the outside. From this, I concluded it would be delicious because it has been my experience that some of the best restaurants are in very obscure areas that resemble downtown Baghdad in the spring of 2003. As usual, I was right. My General Tso's chicken was cooked just right, the sauce was sweet and spicy, the rice was plentiful, the hot tea was FREE, and it was reasonably priced. I would LOVE to go back there, aka Annie, we're going again at your earliest convenience. Mmmmmmmmmk great.

With just enough food in our bellies to be satisfied (not that "Oh God, I think I'm going to vomit" feeling), we headed to Caddie's to meet up with Ray, Diego, Brian, and Ryan for drinks. One Landshark and a whiskey sour later, we walked to Union Jack's to, once again, dance our asses off and judge people. Though not as fun as the first night we went, Union Jack's was still amusing as women of all ages decided to publicly embarass themselves by dancing on speakers. Look, we get it. You are in your late 20s, single, and you just wanna dance. However, I'd advise against shimmying your boobs and shaking your ass like you are in a Flo Rida video. You, classy lady, have a skirt on, and I'm pretty sure half of Union Jack's just saw your Britney. Oh, and your friend, the one with the drink in her hand, looks like she's about to blackout. Tell her to kindly step off the speaker, put her sweat-soaked hair in a ponytail, and hurl in the women's bathroom while she's still conscious. I must say, all in all, it was an entertaining night.

With an early Sunday wake-up time of 12 noon, Andrea dropped me off at the Forest Glen station and I made my way back to Arlington. I had a thrilling Lean Cuisine dinner (ok, to be fair, it was actually some good shit), and met, ahem, a boy later in the evening. I'll give details if you so desire. Since he, more than likely, may click on the link to my blog via my facebook account, I'll simply say he's my type (and all of you know what my type is) and I enjoy the fact that he's 6'2 and a Navy man. Rawr.

Oh oh, so Monday, my mom came into town for work. We had dinner at an Irish pub in Pentagon Row (fish and chips and a blue moon for me, salmon, rice, and broccoli for her), and Tuesday she invited me to dinner with her work group. Since it was technically a "business" dinner, I owe a big THANK YOU to the federal government for covering the cost of my liquor, sweet tea, shrimp cocktail appetizer, and surf and turf with mashed Yukon gold potatoes and steamed broccoli. Yes, yes, that's right. Your tax dollars are being put to good use here in our nation's capital. Complaints? Well, look at it this way. At least I didn't spend it on blow and hookers. There's always next time though.

Last night, I stayed with my mom at the hotel. Let me tell you, this ain't no HoJo. Thank GOD we got the government rate for the hotel room. Want to know how much the room would have cost per night had we not? $909. PER NIGHT. With rates like that, I'd expect the aforementioned blow and hookers to be complimentary. Needless to say, I enjoyed my stay. Before going to bed, I placed my order for room service for the following morning. All I had to do was fill out a door hanger tag with breakfast options listed on it, hang it outside my door, and POOF, like that, it was gone and my breakfast arrived promptly at 10:20 a.m. Scrambled eggs, hickory-smoked bacon, toast, orange juice, and coffee. The waiter, legit, poured and stirred my coffee, handed it to me, pulled out my chair, and thanked me for staying with their hotel. FUCKING RIGHT.

Today I'm back to the job search grind. LOVE IT.