nation. nods.

Speaking of people who recently started blogs, a shoutout goes to my b-school friend/stylist/wedding planner/life coach, who just launched a new blog, Project Shannon. She is to style as what I am to bacon. (Enthusiast, connoisseur, expert, consumer.. take your pick.) Read on for content which its subject matter does not involve TiVo, sneakers or Snuggies (likely a welcome relief for you all)!

nation. nemesis.

From: Skybil
Subject: nationalism. this is war
Message: I have started a challenge blog to dpnation. You’re welcome.

colbert. conversations.

Auto Response from SPOON10 (4:04:37 PM): I liked that policy the first time I heard it.. from the Kool-Aid man.
-Stephen Colbert

skybil: we were just talking about you!!!
dp: OH NO
dp: ABOUT WHAT

m++: i wonder what my gf is donig
skybil: Prolly blogging about Colbert
m++: baffling
skybil: Indeed

——–

dp: omg i think i’m in love with stephen
skybil: MT is concerned that you love another
skybil: I told him to send you a bacon basket to win you back
skybil: He asked: Would that work? I mean, DUH!!!
dp: it might have to be the twice a month bacon club
dp: it was a holy experience
dp: it was like ghetto burgers for the soul
skybil: WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!
skybil: I think that’s the title of your first business how-to guide

family. flambe.

Never a dull moment in Harrisonburg! Oh wait, are we talking about the Turkey Capital? The same place where Walmartin’ is a verb? So something indeed very exciting and slightly panicking happened while at home in the ‘burg for the Thanksgiving holidays. Contrary to popular belief, I was not cooking.

Turns out we had a suspected gas leak, so mother dearest called 911, and asked the operator specifically to NOT send trucks. So obviously she sent 4.

As they came blaring up our dead-end street, The Twin and I ran for cover, due to sheer mortification. The troops came in FULL gear (hats, oxygen tanks, masks, etc.) and rather disappointingly did not resemble anything that I had learned about firemen from the internets.

After it seemed improbable that the house was going to spontaneously combust from a gas leak, I took the opportunity to inquire if the firemen had slid down the pole for us. (No).

The house was eventually cleared by the firemen and gas guy. We are saved!!

prey. pardoned.

Obama's first presidential pardon

Happy Danagiving! Hope everyone had a turbaconducken for the feast!

fraudulent. findings.

So my friends at Chase Visa gave me a call last week, to inform me that they were shutting down my card, as they feared it had been compromised. It was a little odd, since they called to tell me they were giving me the kabosh, rather than asking if I wanted it to be shut down. But I digress, that’s not the point of the story.

After the rep said that they were putting the card on hold, he wanted to go through some recent transactions to make sure that they were legit. Sure, no problem. But I had no idea that going over one’s purchasing habits with a total stranger would be so…. revealing.

Rep: Niketown in San Francisco on 11/5?
DP: okay, so it wasn’t purely a business trip. At least I didn’t put it on the corp AMEX?

Rep: Walgreens on 11/9?
DP: Hmm.. oh yes, that was the dog Snuggie.

Rep: International Bicycle for [let's just say a lot of money]?
DP: I obviously needed a new cyclocross bike. Don’t judge.

Rep: Educational Consulting Services for $1.50?
DP: That one definitely sounds suspicious.

I hope being credit card-less will be an acceptable excuse not to buy anyone xmas presents this year. Right?

plentiful. pumpkins.

Happy Danaween from your friends at The Nation.

What’s everyone’s costumes this year? Here’s a hint of mine: http://twitpic.com/noflp

fierce. fleeces.

It has been debated endlessly: is BC truly Notre Dame’s rival? With chicken and egg arguments like this you have to turn to an unbiased and trusted judge…like the Snuggie Company. If the maker of the revolutionary blanket with arms think the Irish and Eagles are rivals, than I think the case is closed.

via @CSS01 via atleagle.com

The Notre Dame snuggie wearer thinks it’s acceptable to punch a woman in the face.

vegas. virgins.

VEGASSSSSS. Ignoring the fact that there has already been another trip taken and in queue for the blog report, we will get on with the Vegas weekend recap. As you can already tell, it was a huge success — a $13 cashout at the airport slots (off of a $5 investment). I came, I saw, I conquered.

So this summer has been packed with weddings and wedding related events, but this one was more difficult to swing in the workplace. A bachelorette? Hmm. A bachelorette in Vegas? Yup, my coworkers must think I’m a ginormous hooker.

Things learnt while on our inaugural trip to Vegas:
- throwing [new] underwear all over the bachelorette’s bed is a normal activity
- you can visit any major landmark, regardless which country it actually resides in. Don’t consider this an appropriate substitute for the real thing.
- we have a very classy broad entering the Prey family..
- the Bellagio brunch with all you can drink champagne is quite possibly the greatest activity (and bargain at $29) in the world
- Keno is the new blackjack
- Wet Republic (the VIP pool) is like being on MTV
- I might have been the only person in the world to bring an issue of Business Week to said pool
- Stacey is the queen of getting us invited into expensive cabanas
- bring your walking shoes.. The Strip goes on for milessss.
- one can’t be afraid of seeing boobs and equally offensive imagery, as inappropriate fliers completely litter the streets
- Grey Goose comes in gallon-sized bottles
- I really don’t own any Vegas appropriate [ie slutty] clothes
- chicks can get in anywhere they want in town
- it’s totally appropriate to take a stretch Hummer to get around town
- not at all a shocker: Pete Rose in Vegas
- Six Sigma training is brutal on its own. Six Sigma training the day after Vegas is suicidal.

what cab?

Til the next wedding event..

u-fries. u-phoria.

Back to the dirty dirty to make good on my bet (oh, and go a wedding).

Warning: videos are basically only funny to those who were actually feasting at U-Joint. It was probably the beer.

Important lessons learnt from the wedding weekend:

1. Don’t wait til the last minute to realize that you still need to buy a wedding present.

2. But neverfear, as long as said couple is not on Twitter, you can still receive sound advice:
- @jaredlombard @dpnation See if they registered on theknot.com?
- @Cybil @dpnation Forget finding out where they are registered, bacon always makes a lovely gift.
[for the record, they were indeed found on theknot.com. And they will be receiving a deep fryer shortly]

3. If you are male, deny deny deny:
- @jaredlombard @dpnation I plead the 5th about knowing about theknot.com.

4. Don’t call it a comeback!
- @uvatexn Excited about the ‘triumphant return’ to #ATL of @dpnation
- @Cybil Mentally preparing for Dana’s atl invasion

5. Make sure you check your receipt prior to driving off in the economy lot.

6. Invite friends to brunch, realize they are all on Twitter! (Except for Mrs. @uvatexn)

7. Attempt to combat friend theft.
- @Namski09 @dpnation You ran away from me, now what am I suppose to do. @Cybil is a last resort! haha! I can’t wait to hang out @Cybil!!!

8. Escape in the nick of time.

green. gladiator.

Who knew that Tom Boonen, the green jersey winner of the 2007 Tour de France and resident cycling hunk, did such awesome product sponsorship spots?

Randomly, I came across the back cover of an old CycleSport magazine, I have no idea how this ad went unnoticed for so long:

And why it is not prominently featured via internet search is beyond me. Hopefully this post helps resolve that issue.

This just reaffirms that Belgium is the producer of great things: Tom Boonen, Ridley bikes, waffles and beer.

NoVA. Nation.

Arlington, VA: Straight up gangsta. I’m packing heat and boat shoes.

transition. time.

Aaaand the transition never ends. In addition to needing some key pieces of furniture, I also had to figure out the whole legality of my residency in a new state. I begrudgingly headed to hell on earth, aka the DMV, to attempt getting a new license, tags and title done in one fell swoop (it took me at least 3 tries in Virginia). Things didn’t look so promising when I arrived at the state offices 20 min early, with a good 15-20 people already in line. Shockingly enough, not only did I actually have all the necessary paperwork (CP, you will need – 1) auto insurance 2) tags 3) state inspection — in that order), but I also made it out with the best non-personalized license plates I could ever get! No, it’s not death car. Behold:

DP!

Although, I have another idea up my sleeve having to do with this, so stay tuned.

The first of many wedding-related events took place in North Carolina. Pig roast to celebrate the impending nuptials of big bro, but really a good excuse for the families (ie parents) to meet one another. It was a grand success, but then again, how could people not get along famously when feasting on 110 pounds of pig, hush puppies and jello shots? (not kidding, even my mom did one — she was probably trying to be polite).

110 pounds = a whole lotta bacon

Next up on the travel itinerary?That’s right! I have a few more weeks to work on my poker face and learn how to count cards. I will be refraining from using the cliche Las Vegas saying though.

And everything else in a nutshell:
- shopping for a new cross bike, turns out I picked out Gisele’s all on my own! In the meantime, I am borrowing a bike to try CX out.
- CP is moving here!
- I finally bought a couch. Welcome to adulthood.
- got the most epic flat tire 10 mi into an attempted century with an Ironman-in-training. 120psi to flat in a matter of seconds. So we patched the tire with a wrapper found on the side of the road, made it back to the bike shop, where I got some snazzy white-walled tires and Chuck ended up with neon green tires/tape and a squeeky sumo for his aero bars. We still managed to get 75 mi in and I got an Anna’s burrito while watching CD do hill climbs.
- I got an inflatable pool for my backyard. True story.
- meet the cutest dog in the whole world. And yes, that XS BC dog sweater is from yours truly.

grownup. gal.

Entering: The Next Episode. Once again, I’m heading into the workforce. Welcome, paychecks, benefits and the next career step. Goodbye, summer vacation, Thirsty Thursdays and accounting class.

Going along with the grown up phase of my life is a new place to live. After tireless weeks/months spent researching and a whole lotta legwork (who knew realtors were so sketchy? I’m looking at you, RE/MAX), behold:

My new place! Even my car has a place to live, something that I thought was such wishful thinking, that I didn’t even bother to look for it during my property search.

So the entry way once you get inside the foyer has this little nook that is begging for something to be put there, like some fake flowers or an homage to yours truly (Kathleen’s idea — turns out, it looked more like a memorial). So I think I’ve found the solution: lighted slate wall fountain!

John: “That may be even better than the marathon picture, very inviting and soothing sounds for the hall way. Much like a holiday inn. Excellent choice.”

Kathleen: “hahahah the only thing better than that would be a virgin mary”

To go along with my grown up house and grown up job, I’ve decided to get grown up furniture. The days of being excited over IKEA stuff are gone (although, for a temporary fix, they are perfectly adequate — not trying to knock IKEA like I do the Olive Garden.) So after dropping the 2nd most money I have ever spent (Ridley still wins that honor), I am now equipped with some great pieces. Thank god for relocation money. Now that I have all this fab stuff, I guess it’s time to show up to work to start earning my keep. Goodbye, grad school life. It was fun while it lasted.

desert. dp.

Egypt! The days have been packed with sand, pyramids, camels named Lufthansa, and some hard time at the pool. Oh, and there’s a NikeWomen store in the building next door. Who knew that Africa in July would be such a success? My only complaint: no bacon. Yeah yeah, Muslim country.. they don’t know what they’re missing.

caption. this.

A gift from an anonymous source..

(insert caption here)

Leave your caption in the comment section below.

twin. terrors.

The Twins go to DC! Well, technically little J already lives there. The real reason for the trip was to try on bridesmaid dresses for the upcoming nuptials of Big Brother. Turns out, a bridal store like David’s Bridal was everything I dreamt it to be and more:

Average bridal customer

The worst part? We had to register our information since the bride didn’t have an account (got her dress elsewhere). Which means we inevitably are on 39473865 wedding mailing lists now, great! But on the bright side, the dresses were cute (& inexpensive), the wedding will be in Puerto Rico, and The Twin bought me a burrito afterward.

After the suburban scare known as Springfield, VA.. we headed off to Georgetown, where I was able to acquire my much-lusted after whale hat from Vineyard Vines!

For professional preps only

First seen at the Head of the Charles last year, I had been on a mission to get one of my own. The VV store in Copley was giving them away to children last November (I was too mortified to ask for one), but finally I was able to procure one in Georgetown!

Afterwards, we headed back to The Twin’s abode in Columbia Heights, where there were presents for yours truly waiting:

Yes, that’s a WALL-E toothbrush, al paca figurine from Peru, and CHOCOLATE COVERED BACON!!

Next day: Nat’s game. Sorry to say to my beloved Bravos, Nationals Field is pretty much the nicest ballpark I’ve been to (although have not made it to the new Yankee Stadium). Even the recycling containers were awesome.

The Twin demonstrates how to recycle at Nat's Field

The best part? The Presidents race, of course. Like sausages except our fearless leaders and not in Milwaukee.

Abe takes a huge lead

But then stops to tear up a Mets sign

George, Tommy J and Teddy all take advantage

But Abe doesn't seem to care

After the game, the Presidents were out and about in the stadium. I got to say hello to GW.

George really liked my new Dooney

And of course, the best president of them all..

Tommy J!

And this is totally unrelated, but I really like this shirt:

Prey Twin weekend = success.

photographic. proof.

For all those doubters out there (ahem, Skybil), here is some photographic proof of my master-dom.

Also, for my Dean’s award (see next post).. I hope this is like the Heisman, where people have to introduce me as ‘Dean Commended D ana P rey’ in all social situations.

What’s next on the path to world domination?

master. me.

That’s right! Please address me as ‘master’ from now on. The diploma is entirely in Latin, and my one year in 8th grade Latin class has proven not to be sufficient enough to translate the document. So really, it could just say ‘master of useless knowledge’ and nobody would know the difference.

Also, I can’t believe the time I win an [academic] award, the Dean forgets the list and as result did not announce the names.

Here’s the proof though. It’s legit, y’all.

Update: kylekinnaman http://twitpic.com/5o6lw – Something about seeing the #danahead above AA preggers ad makes me want to fire up the GIMP (formerly Photoshop).

all’s. well.

My collegiate cycling career is officially over (well, I could pull a Favre and enroll in another grad program — although I just turned down UVA, so don’t hold your breath). This year went substantially better than last year, and I think it came down to a few new riding philosophies. And a little luck avoiding crashes.

Important lessons learned:

1. Learn to love crits. Last year, I dreaded them, loathed them with a passion. This year, my goal was to be a crit monster. Case and point: my three Top 5 finishes this season: all crits. Who knew?

2. Don’t race to hang on, race to attack and attack again. I try to emulate my racing style after my fave runner and American legend, Steve Prefontaine: “A lot of people run a race to see who is fastest. I run to see who has the most guts, who can punish himself into exhausting pace, and then at the end, punish himself even more. Nobody is going to win a 5,000 meter race after running an easy 2 miles. Not with me. If I lose forcing the pace all the way, well, at least I can live with myself.” – Pre

3. Train smarter. Last year I spent a lot of time in spin class at my gym, which was more of an aerobics class than a cycling training session. If you’re gonna work your butt off, do it in the right medium. I didn’t train any longer or harder or more often than last year, but I spent a hella lot more time on the trainer this winter. And I can only imagine how much better training would have gone without my two part-time jobs, overloaded course schedule and job search priorities.

Sooo, normally summertime is when I ramp up my running. But I just qualified for some USA Cycling Development Camps, so I’m not sure what to do now, cause that’s pretty sweet. We’ll see. No idea what I’m doing with my life. No idea where I’m living. Et al.