I’ll eventually write about my day in D.C. with Romana.

But not today.

My eyes kept closing. It was 1:30 a.m. I was just about to shut down my computer and go to bed, when suddenly a “new mail” notification flashed on my screen. It was from Romana—the girl I met on the plane coming back from Seattle back in February. I keenly opened my inbox to read her email. I was shocked to discover that she was coming to D.C. …And she was coming tomorrow!

I was instantly awake and in somewhat of a panic. Tomorrow!? I had to think fast. My first reaction was to run to my room and get a load of laundry together. I had made a mental note this morning that all of my black socks were dirty. Once the washer was started, I jumped on my stationary bike and rode ten miles. I cursed myself for not having worked out this afternoon, as I had planned. I also hated the fact that I cheated on my diet with several pieces of chocolate fudge just an hour prior.

When my bike tour was done, I threw my clothes into the dryer, then proceeded with an extra-intense workout on my Bowflex. Time seemed to breeze by. I was running through a mental checklist of everything I needed to do and prepare before my meeting with Romana.

I needed my camera. This was my opportunity to secure the cover shot to the upcoming Heroine 2.0 CD. That meant I also needed to dig up an old Heroine CD to give her. Might as well make her a “Welcome to D.C.” mix CD, while I’m at it. I needed my tourist map for D.C. I forgot that I’m supposed to be some sort of expert on D.C. tourist attractions. We might hit some museums. I need to return stuff to Urban Outfitters, so maybe we’ll do that, as well.

I’m not exactly sure what all Romana and I will be doing tomorrow. All I know is that my clothes are now dry, and I have to go to bed. She arrives in seven hours.

I spent an amazing evening in Georgetown with my workmates yesterday. We left work at 3 p.m. and had drinks at Sequoia. We had a large party—and shitty service—but had a grand time drinking, telling stories and getting to know each other quite well. Some folks had friends or family members meet us there, so our party kept morphing into different forms throughout the night.

Magda and Shawn (her really hot red-headed friend) left first. After some light eats and more shitty service, the rest of us also left. We lost half of our crew immediately. Ap, Ap’s friend (don’t remember her name), Bridget, Ritu, Sajit and I decided to walk up Wisconsin Ave. and do some window shopping. We stopped at Ap’s favorite ice cream shop, where they got ice cream, and I purchased some delicious peanut butter/chocolate fudge. Yum.

Ritu and Ap’s friend left us, and the remaining four headed to Urban Outfitters for some “shopping.” We spent about an hour wandering around, reading shocking literature (Ap and I examined a book on sexual positions), and thinking of various pranks we could pull in the office. We decided Bridget would purchase a flask and pull it out for a swig at our Monday morning team meeting. They said I had to wear something really colorful to the office, so they picked out a really nerdy cardigan. It was only $9 on clearance, so I didn’t mind. I also got some slammin’ crossbones Band-Aides and a really neat green shirt.

After Outfitters, Bridget and Sajit departed. Ap and I headed back to the G-town mall to get our cars. Parking was more expensive than I had thought. I paid $12 and got through, but Ap didn’t have enough cash, so they forced her to pull over, walk to an ATM, and get the proper amount. (This all happened unbeknownst to me at the time.)

Overall, the outing turned out to be really charming—although we’ll receive some backlash on Monday for going. (My manager was pissed that she wasn’t invited—and raised all sorts of hell after we left—just to point out our absence. Not that we had anything to do at work on Friday.)

I checked my friends list today and was shocked/amused that the list had finally reached 100. Then I thought to myself, “I don’t really have a hundred friends, do I? If I had a hundred friends, why do I have such a hard time finding people to go with me to places & events I want to go to?”

I must have a lot of friends who aren’t like me at all.

I trimmed down the list to around 85 by deleting bands and folks I’ve never met in person (or haven’t talked to in over a year). Eighty-five still seems like a high number to me. If I have 85 friends, then why was I at the Black Cat on Saturday night alone, dancing with strangers at 80’s dance night?

I can only think of two friends (both guys), who are always up for hanging out and going to wherever–for the shear enjoyment of hanging out, drinking, and having a good time with their buddies. Neither of whom are on MySpace.

So, who are the 85? Faraway friends, old classmates, ex-coworkers, family members, acquaintances, kickballers, some bands, and a few local pals. But for the most part, no one interested in doing any of the things I wanna do.

Conclusion: MySpace doesn’t really connect me to friends, so much as it shows my great disconnect with the people from my past and present.

Although I swore I’d never go back to Wolftrap (because outdoor shows are usually lame), I had to get tickets to see Blondie play on June 6. This is Blondie’s final U.S. tour. Debbie Harry is one of those iconic artists I have to see live at least once. Of course, I’d rather see Blondie play in a club, but I gotta take what I can get.

I also got tickets to Chris Isaak’s show at Wolftrap in August, simply because it’s now an annual tradition.