Friends are like Assholes.

Yeah. I think this about sums up how I feel. I have bitched and moaned in the past. I know it. So does pretty much everyone that knows me. Here comes another one that may be a tad bit justified.

Ever leave your tax paperwork at a bar? On purpose? With someone you really trust? No? Maybe it's just a Beattie that would do that...but I did in any case...with someone I have known a very, very long time.

A month later and still...no word...no word about my taxes being done, but many conversations that include things like, "Oh! He has your taxes, he's just really busy..." and "No word...I'll let you know..." Well after over a month of this interaction I end up wising up and call my "accountant" to find he never, ever, EVER, got my tax paperwork. Not ever. Not in 2006, anyway. WTF is going on? A solid week of phone calls to pretty much everyone, except my friend's mother, many voicemails, and many trips to the bar (without drinking!) and it's like the friend dropped off the face of the planet. I know I'm intimidating. I know. But scary enough to not return a vm (it's easy...no contact w/ me is truly needed. No text message. Nothing. Who does that? At this point it is April 8 and I am panicking...This means I have to call employers I don't want to talk to...the bank, etc. AND file an extension...something I've never done. Great...but it gets done. Today is April 11 and I got it all accomplished. And still, no word from said friend.

I even called the accountant again, to make sure my stuff didn't get lost. How great do I sound, that my "friend" doesn't talk to me? Am I making my mystery friend up? I may as well have put everything together, wrapped it in a bow, and thrown it in the trash. What gives...

My new pal, the tax man gives me the best call ever this afternoon...right after I mailed off the extension and checked off my "people to call" list to get copies of everything. He got the taxes! Yay! Still no call from the friend.

On top of it...it turns out my "day job" employer has been filing my state taxes wrong...so I owe VA $1K and am getting $1K back from DC...in like a year, or whenever they feel like giving someone money...nothing really gets done in DC...lovely. When you Beattie your taxes, you Beattie your damn taxes.

Hence the wonderful artwork.

Ah, the Wonder of Digital Cameras

How great is it that my friend, O happened upon this sight in the slums of Arlington? How did God find out?
I am a bit shamed and that's where it ends. And now you all know.

I happened upon this landmark as a new comment on myspace, in front of my parents, who are visiting. It's not like I live in their house or anything. But I was in their trailer...in Maryland.
(But in their defense, it's awesome. The Double Tree Hotels make Suites RVs, who knew?) It is probably as big as my apartment, so I can't really make fun...
So when I'm done touching myself, I need to pray that God will keep the sin from my (Born again Christian) parents. So thanks, Omar. If they saw it, I'll just tell them it's from you and you are a heathen who doesn't know any better...and is going to hell.

So, anyone else see the really cool storm last night? Apparently the weather men think they're hilarious...a caption above the storm system was, "System of a Downpour." It was almost too much to handle.

The night proceeded with me watching a PG13 movie with my mom (I try to avoid anything that's not R or above for the thrill factor. Movies need nudity, gore, sex, violence, drugs, and death scenes to really do anything for me. But I try to keep that away from the parents.) However, In her Shoes, seemed like a bet for parents/daughter bonding...but it really pushed the line and I get squirmy. I used to run out for a preplanned trip to the bathroom or to make a phone call or get a drink, when I knew a sex scene was coming up in movies when with the parents. Can't really avoid that stuff when you're crammed in a room on wheels. In the rain. And I'm 26!

We later got into blood and guns (Yay) when flipped through basic cable and landed on Die Hard. You know how they're letting common curse words like, bitch, ass, and bastard, fly on tv? Apparently not "mother fucker." You can't bleep over Samuel L Jackson. It's just not right. He told Bruce Willis, courtesy of TNT most likely, "Not all black men know how to use a gun, you racist, melon picker." What? Way to let me down, basic cable.

And so it Begins...

My parents are in town! I am very thrilled! It was an excuse to quit the second job and now I get to act as a tourist...the tourist part I can live without.

It's time to be embarrassed, because no...I've never been to this museum, or this monument, or this one, or that one, but I drive past them all the time on the way to the bars...Yeah, the tourist part could be dangerous.

I even get to brave the masses that are in town for the Cherry Blossoms and Festivals...a whopping million plus came into town to see trees. TREES. Don't they have trees where you are from? Pink ones, at that? They are pretty...but I better bring some liquor with me, so I don't stress about all the people. Wish me luck!