Thursday, December 27, 2007
A quick recap of 2007's Resolutions:
I am thrilled to report I've successfully recycled and composted for one year! Whoo hoo!
Truth be told, it's easy and now it's a habit, so - yay Earth! I will just mention that compost needs to be taken out FREQUENTLY otherwise your house will stink like rot. I know this from experience. :(
But the plus side is that my massive composter is halfway to full!
Now it is time to decide the 2008 Resolutions. I have to say that only having two made it easier to stick with. I have lots of ideas, but need to whittle down the list.
Here are a few I am contemplating:
1. Take the New Year's Day plunge into the ocean - this one is good because it's easy, it's one day, and my chances of dying from the shockingly cold water are low. Plus it's once and DONE! Best kind of Resolution out there.
2. Date more - I've been told that I should date more. Dating is a hard one for me - I talk a lot and am completely baffled by those mysterious "Rules" I am supposed to be following. It would be easier to open the lid on the compost bin and find a nice fella sitting right there on a cabbage leaf..... Sigh..... So there's another good Resolution, definitely in the personal challenge category of Resolutions.
3. Delete 38 Special from my playlists. If I hear "Hang On Loosely" ONE.MORE.TIME I will probably die.
4. Do one thing off of Cheap Thrills Rob's Cheap Thrills List every week. Hey, if he is going to put the time and effort into making and emailing the list, then I am going to put it to some good use! Plus anytime I get the chance to see him break out his interpretive dance routines makes it all worth it.
5. Walk more. That would be good in continuing with the whole recycle/compost theme of 2007. I might try to keep a log of how many miles I actually drive in one year, and how many gallons of gas I use up. Hmmmmm. I think that I could do that one actually. I like counting crap like that. I could put it into Excel.....
6. Make more food from scratch. I started doing that back in October and I noticed that I feel well, noticeably, better when I don't eat crap. Which is also true when I exercise. But I hate the "Exercise More" Resolution almost as much as "Hang On Loosely".
Ok well that's the start of them. There are more, only I am tired and going to bed. Too much Christmas food has poisoned my poor little liver I think.
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
For the past two days I have eaten myself stupid - I feel a like stuffed turkey. Like a Humturkducken - a human stuffed with a turkey, stuffed with a duck, stuffed with a chicken.
It's gross. All I want to do is take a shower to wash this awful full feeling off me.
And if that's not bad enough I went out to dinner with Metro Matt.
Because, you know, never say die right.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
I went into this thing all excited because I drew a great recipient and had fun making up the gift.
I was not expecting to leave the event with bleeding ears.
Let me explain.
There is a person in our office whose views are, well, let's just say I am not even sure that Ultra-Conservatives would have him. This person thinks Democrats are disciples of Osama Bin Laden. That a scorched earth policy in Iraq is being generous. That John McCain is a big pussy.
But he is also a nice guy, a family guy who might be in his mid-50's or so, who buys coffee for everyone and who blushes when a pretty lady talks to him and is super formal and polite. (Until, of course, he opens his mouth and all this political scariness falls out)
So of course his Secret Santa bought him the Hillary nutcracker.
Which made everyone laugh.
Until he said: "I think this is what Rush Limbaugh call a 'testicle lock box'"
Um, wait, did he just say "testicle"? At the office Secret Santa swap?
"testicle lock box"? Really?
I mean I know that "testicle" is a technical term, and really it could also be called a "vagina cracker" but guess what, I don't want to hear either of those words at a Secret Santa swap.
Especially from the mouth of this sweet, white haired old gizzard. I mean I knew he has political values that differ from my own. And usually with him I avoid those conversation starters that start with "You know what Howie Carr says..." or "Guess what those stupid Democrats..."
But now whenever he opens his mouth, all I am going to hear is "testicle lock box".
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Three random pictures from my walk to work.
Dudley Square has a number of interesting old painted adverts.
It's funny how when I pull out my crappy little camera, people look at me, then look at what I am photographing and then look like "what the f*ck?"
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Grrrrrrrrr, I think to myself as I burrow a little further under the covers at 4am and jam earplugs in.
At some stage the thought of storming over, kicking the door in, and choking them all with 16oz red cups enters my mind.
But you know, it's cold out n' stuff.
However as mad as I get at 4am, the other day they all shoveled out my neighbor Mrs. T.
Seriously, shoveled up every single flake from her door, to her car (she has a handicap spot) and they did it with the kind of precision reserved for German car manufacturers. Twice.
Warmed the frozen solid cockles of my heart, that did. So now I guess they are going to get a cookie too.
Shoveling unasked counts as holiday cheer in my book. And somewhere out there, the parents of a couple of Northeastern students should be proud.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Not that I don't LOVE the alert system that I got from Universal Hub (and they rock!) but my mom not only can accurately gauge the severity of any impending "weather event", but she is also actually off the boat from France.
Or as they say in France: "outre du bateau"
Which makes her une vrai french pain grille!
When I talked to Maman earlier she was grumbling about battening down the hatches.
To know what kind of doom that spells out, click HERE. And HERE
If she's battening, we're gonna get walloped with snow. Whoo hoo!!
Check back for updates and school closings. Not.
As some of you might remember some a**hole tagged my house over the weekend.
With really really crappy & unimaginative graffiti.
So I emailed the City of Boston's Graffiti Busters and lo and behold here it is Wednesday and the graffiti is GONE.
Sunday, December 09, 2007
Yep that's right, a free cookie for you!
A homemade cookie mailed right to you.
But you have to send my neighbor, Mrs. T, a holiday card.
I don't care if you don't send cards, or if you have to use that free Unicef card you get in the mail, or if you send her a postcard - please just send her a little holiday cheer.
Mrs. T doesn't need pity or charity. She's just a super sweet lady who has had a really difficult year.
Her husband died in January - they were married for 5o years, and were childhood sweethearts. She jokes that he flirted with her in the newborn nursery! This will be her first Christmas without him. He used to wash her car every Saturday so it would be gleaming for church on Sunday. And he used to wear these far out 70's style suits to take her out for a drive or to dinner. He was a really cool dude and is missed.
Then her son has some severe mental health issues that are difficult to address. He also misses his dad and I don't think he fully comprehends the loss. Or knows exactly how to process it. And so this year he has had a few unfortunate run-ins with the law as well as a couple of stays in a hospital.
So many things she now has to deal with that Mr. T always dealt with. And has to face a holiday without him. And all sorts of sad things that suck about life.
Please send her a card.
Email me for the address and I will send you one homemade cookie, made with love and gratitude and butter and eggs and everything nice!
To the two people who've already emailed me, yes - you both will also get a cookie.
Saturday, December 08, 2007
Some time ago they came along and stuck a large, unsightly, cable box onto the side of my house. Too bad for them they didn't ask me first.
But when I first started asking them to take it down they in essence told me to get stuffed.
Ok well whatever. I had cable for a while anyway so I didn't care.
I soon came to the realization that having anything to do with Comcast was going to shave about 6 years off my life. For the most part the cable only worked Tuesday through Thursday and only if the meteorological conditions were exactly perfect. And if you wanted it to work for the weekend you had to physically be in your home when the technician called to say they were en route.
Then they suspended my account because I wouldn't pay an extra $40 in advance - a "service deposit" some dopey customer service rep wanted me to pay.
So I canceled my account.
Because I want to live!!!
Then, with no cable, I got really irritated that there was a big ugly box stuck onto my house. A big ugly COMCAST box, those f*ckers! A constant reminder of a sh*tty experience.
I called them and they were like "yeah ok well whatever, you shouldn't have let us put it up there in the first place". Hah! I was probably AT WORK when they came by, between the hours of 1 and 4.
Out of frustration I emailed both the City and the State cable regulation offices. The State DTC office responded within days.
As did Comcast. They set me up with a Customer Service rep who tried to convince me to leave the box up. First they tried to offer me $1000 to let them park the box there in perpetuity. Ha.
Then they tried to guilt me into it by telling me that if I made them take it off, no one would be able to have cable. Well that wasn't my problem really.
Finally they grudgingly agreed to remove the box.
And what a production that was! But who cares, stupid box is gone. Now the idiots who kept falling of my porch trying to jack cable can go try to sue someone else when they fall on their heads!
However, a lingering scar remains in the brick. Which Comcast filled with what appears to be Vaseline.
I called them back up and asked them to fix it. They came back with some "options" - and asked me if I could meet with them to discuss them. Yeah right - between 1 and 4 on a Tuesday by chance?
Eh, to be fair, they were actually willing to come out on a Saturday. But of course they never got back to me on that.
The "options" I was offer was that they were willing to come and fill the holes in the brickwork with brick colored putty.
Huh. Brick-colored vaseline/putty.
Um no thanks. I explained that what I meant when I asked them to fix it, I meant to fix it to original condition.
A request that was met with an "um" followed by silence. And then I was turned over to the insurance people.
I got a letter today from the insurance company basically telling me that they are going to investigate the circumstances that led to the damage on my house.
This should be fun.
1. & 2. Vodka and Schnapps tied with 5 votes each
3. Christmas Past got 4 votes
4. Holiday spirit got one whole vote.
Which means my 15 readers are a fabulous bunch of drunks (10) who live in the past (4). Sounds just like me!
And one person who was lost in Blogger land.
I am pissed because it looks stupid. It doesn't even say anything.
What kind of crappy, juvenile graffiti crap is that? Heck, two search terms on Google and even a bozo can come up with simple graffiti how-to's! Complete with advice on cap types and pointers on dealing with the po-po.
Seriously, if you are going to deface my heap o' bricks, you better whip out something more like this:
Because if you are going to deface my sh*t, I at least want to be impressed.
Friday, December 07, 2007
She lost her husband of fifty years (50!) in January. Her son has some severe mental health issues that have him in and out of mediocre care. Her house needs repairs.....
But you know, she is a nice woman with a ready wave and a friendly smile and I think that she would love to get a Christmas card or two.
So if you are of the holiday card sending kind, email me for her address.
Who knows, maybe karma will reward you with a winning lottery ticket.
No. Not really. But it sure as sh*t looks like it.
In some odd moment of Christmas Past dementia I decorated my house with great swaths of greenery, hauled up the fake white Christmas tree from the basement, and dragged out a ridiculously large box of ornaments.
Which is why I haven't been posting lately.
And now I am going to spend the weekend cooking for Christmas!
So if you are looking for me, you will find me over on my other blog: Calamity Shazaam in the Kitchen.
I've fired up the stove and have a little Otis Redding Radio tuning in on Pandora.
See you there!
Friday, November 30, 2007
Stop me if you've heard this one before.
Sorry, but this was the most ridiculous news event of the day. Well other than that "weather event" barreling toward Boston.
Ugh, give me a BREAK!!
Seriously, the account of it on Boston.com is hysterical:
"Colonel Frederick Booth, the head of the New Hampshire State Police, said Eisenberg had wanted to speak to Clinton, but negotiators had refused. "As a tactical standpoint, that would have not been a wise move," Booth said." - no sh*t.
"Clinton told the media earlier at a news conference outside her Washington home that it had been a "very difficult day, personally and emotionally." She said she was "especially just relieved to have this situation end so peacefully without anyone being injured."
"I just could not be prouder of the people who are in my campaign," she said.
She held a second news conference in New Hampshire tonight, praising her campaign workers' courage, and thanking law enforcement officials for their work." - hmmmm, lucky her, two press conferences in one day.
"I don't think he fully had control of them during the whole process," he said. He added that the hostages "were extremely helpful in bringing this to a successful conclusion." - this is like one of those mental math problems from school.
Try it with me: There are 3 staffers, a volunteer, and a kid. The volunteer and the child leave. Then 2 staffers leave. How many hostages are you left with?
If you calculated 1, you are correct.
And I would agree that there was some loss of control in the process considering that the hostage pool dwindled from five to one pretty fast.
And the article winds up with this explanation as to why the situation wasn't worse:
"At the trailer park where he lived in Somersworth, about 10 miles from Rochester, neighbors described Eisenberg as "crazy" and "always starting fights." They said he and his wife this summer moved into an old trailer, which they refurbished." - ah ha! damn trailer trash!
"He started fights with people leaving my house," Carlson said. "He was always drunk. I felt sorry for his wife. He was always fighting with her, always throwing things at her. I told her, 'If you have any trouble during the night and you're scared, come over and knock on my door.' He is crazy. I never wanted to speak to him." - so Channel 7 spent the first 9 minutes and the last 2 minutes of their newscast discussing the antics of a trailer park drunk with a couple of flares strapped to him who took a hostage at the Clinton Campaign office?
Huh. You know what I think? I think that Bill is behind this.
It's his way of making up for Monica and the cee-gar.
To one side I have the lovely and quiet conservatory students - although one of them is not so quiet in the mouth and managed to get himself stabbed in the butt (with a knife! but thankfully only a flesh wound!) Hopefully now he'll think twice about mouthing off to the local hoodlums at 2 in the morning!
And to the other side I have the Boooyaaaahhhh!!!! Northeastern student neighbors. It's their favorite word: booyah. I hear it a lot. I am pretty sure they don't mean it in the sexual meaning way. I hope not anyhow.
They're the ones who like to par-tay and as mad as I get when they wake my cranky old-lady self up at 4am, when I go to yell at them, they completely win me over. Grrrrrrr.
They win me over by saving all their beer cans for me to give to the Vietnamese woman who comes around on trash days and take all our cans.
Because after their party that wakes me up at 4am, there is usually two or three big bags of cans, neatly bagged in drawstring bags just like she likes, ready for me to put down by the gate at the bottom of the garden.
And while I have no idea if the Vietnamese woman understands my wild hand gestures as I try to explain that I live next to hard drinking youths, that it's not that I drink such great quantities of NatLite, but I think that she now thinks that I feed my children beer.
And she was probably a physicist back in the old country.....
Anyway, between that and their offers to feed me mac & cheese right off the stove and out of the pan, it's hard to be mad for too long.
Although check with me Sunday. I was warned this morning that they plan to fight for their right to paaaaaaaaaaaaaaarty on Saturday night. I am of course invited. Growl. Grrrr.
I am NOT a cougar. Not after Thursday nights episode of 30 Rock. No way jose.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Sunday, November 25, 2007
My dear friend Ennairda and I were hustling around on the Metro system with two tiny tots, a fistful of fancy mylar balloons and all the other tot-toting paraphernalia that goes along on these kinds of trips.
As you may know, the Metro system requires an advanced degree in quantum mathematics to even begin to comprehend. DC is a very smart town.
So we just stuffed some money into the machine and hoped for the best. We took various Metro rides, converted our two cards into three, tried not to get crushed in Rosslyn and eventually made our way back out to Baltimore after the race.
As Ennairda and her race-fatigued hubby packed themselves back into the minivan, I went about seeing if I could redeem our tickets. Why not right?
It turned out that we had about $15 smackaroos left. Which to me means either one round trip on the Metro during peak hours, or 48 trips between Foggy Bottom and Farragut West. I really do not understand the Metro pricing at all.
However, the very nice Metro guy helpfully explained to me that I was actually entitled to a refund.
Really? Are you kidding? Does my expression of wonderment further reinforce the Masshole stereotype?
Yep, turns out that you just have to stick your partially used tickets in this special envelope, give it back to the nice Metro employee (or mail it) and expect a check to follow within the next few weeks.
I know this is true because I just got the refund check in the mail!
Goes to show what a little cheapskateness and a little curiosity can get you. Not killed like the cat, that's for sure!
So what if the owner of Bob's is tired of serving up regular ol' Southern food. He wants to spend all his effort at the Beehive. Whatever, that's his business. Clearly he is more interested in catering to a more yuppified & moneyfied milieu, which he didn't seem able to do on the outer edges of the South End.
Ok, so let him.
And hey, a burger joint in the heart of Northeastern country, that sort of seems appropriate. The demographic of the area has changed, for better or for worse, and who's to say that something shouldn't change for nostalgia's sake. Wait until they close Wally's and convert it to a Starbucks. Or flip New York Pizza into a Qdoba.
Because if you are seriously going to need a soul food fix, Chef Lee's hasn't closed. Neither has Ray's Soul Kitchen. Nor Mrs. Jones.
Or if you need some really good BBQ give M&M BBQ a try. It's a food truck that operates out of an old junk yard over on Hampden Street. I think they used to be over on Columbia Road, or maybe now they have two "locations".
Why not support these fine establishments with the same bellyaching fervor?
And call me if you do, because I will pretty much drop everything for a plate of ribs.
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Today I am adding another thing to the list: Shopping for "doorbusters" on "Black Friday".
For one thing I hate traffic and there was a 4 hour traffic jam of people trying to get into the Wrentham Outlets.
People were turning on each other like rabid rabbits, ears flattened and tails a'thumping territorially. At least that is how it looked on the news.
Which is ridiculous, because they put themselves in the situation voluntarily!
And I sure would not want to be the person who has to work there and be at work at 4am with hordes of crazed bargain shoppers coming at you.
There is no kind of deal that would reward me enough in exchange for shaving a year off my life. Because that is what that kind of stress does to a person. Shaves years off. Just so you know.
Even if they were giving away Le Crueset fo'free, I would not put myself through that kind of stress.
Yeah, so a "doorbuster", definitely on my list of things I don't want to do.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
1. My grandad is 92, going strong, and one of my top five favorites to just hang out with and shoot the sh*t.
2. I have a job I don't dread going to, that I actually enjoy, with co-workers who don't suck.
3. My new fridge. It's awesome and saved my sanity last night.
4. I don't go hungry. Ever. Seriously, that's a luxury for which I am extremely grateful.
5. Clean water from a tap.
6. I have everything I need and only few wants.
7. My friends. It is the best feeling in the world to know that people unrelated to you like you and want to do stuff with you. That rocks!
8. The Champagne Supernova. She passed inspection for the second year in a row and I didn't have to spend anything on it. Not bad for a $600 car with a $1000 bumper courtesy of U-Haul.
9. My neighbors don't suck. They party, they are good looking, they are pretty nice, and all are mostly friendly - I can't complain.
10. People other than my family read this blog and occasionally comment. Same feeling as number 7.
11. Sassy Sauces. The best sauce on earth.
12. My sister. Cheerleader, comedienne, grounding wire, accomplice, driver, keeper of records as to which closets have skeletons in them... what more could anyone ask for in a best friend.
13. My parents. For the most part they've watched me haphazardly toddle through life like a truculent three year old. They've made sure I didn't die, and they've always, ALWAYS set me back on my feet and have taken my phone call. Plus they are awesome people too.
14. My eyes, back, feet, and head, are mostly pain free. Lots of people complain about eye, back, feet, and head pains and that doesn't not sound fun to me. I would go insane with chronic pain, so I am really thankful I don't have any.
15. Alice's Restaurant.
16. The best turkey. And being able to cook a Thanksgiving meal without stress.
17. Having relatively little stress in my life. It would not suck to win the lottery, but really I only need like $250K to be set. So I don't even need to win the big one.
18. Boston, for all its flaws and idiosyncrasies and idiots and byzantine bureaucracies, is a nice place to live and I live here, so I am glad I live in a nice, interesting, city.
19. I was linked to in an article on Slate and for one glorious and brief moment in time my readership soared above 5,000. Wow & cool!
20. The kind folks at UniversalHub link to me. They don't have to link to me, but they do. That's a thrill that never fades really.
There is much more, but I have to finish the stuffing.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Sunday, November 18, 2007
This is from Boston.com earlier today:
Bad punctuation I get, there is no punctuation checker.
But there's no good excuse for poor spelling.
Even the Noo Yawk Times is finding it hard to even spell vegetable correctly.
Well, thank goodness Blogger offers a spell checker and even helpfully underlines misspelled words.
Still. "Helecopter". It grates.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
For the past five years we've gone to get our holiday turkey from them and have not been disappointed.
The best part about going out to the farm (aside from the scenic 160 mile drive) is that they have a little shop where you go pick up yer bird, where they also sell assorted other things: eggs, stock (turkey & chicken), pot pies, soups, sausage, ground turkey meat, gravy, and really delicious deviled eggs.
You go in and everyone sort of stares at you like you came from outer space (stupid city folk - that's us). There is lots of activity, pot pies being made, people playing cards, and basically lots of farm-related flurry going on. It's a farm, so duh.
But they are super nice and entertain my city girl questions with good humor ("um so you just let the turkeys run around outside?" "Uh, yeah")
Then because we are tuckered out from hefting turkeys around we go to the Old Mill. Today was actually the first time we ever had to wait to be seated. The service was desultory as ever but hey, that's what Turkey Shoot is all about!
If you ever want a really great turkey, raised with love (because the way that Faith talked about her poults, she definitely loves them), and maybe some of the best deviled eggs ever, I tell you - go to Diemands.
You will not be disappointed.
Friday, November 16, 2007
THAT holiday is in December. Talk to me about it then please!
November is for grey afternoons, black bark and luridly orange leaves, for apple picking, pie making, bread baking, turkey hunting, wooly tights, tartan, wood smoke, and THANKSGIVING.
I want to hear Alice's Restaurant, not Dominic the Italian Youknowwhat Donkey!
Trying to leapfrog holidays is like eating strawberries in January. NOT NORMAL.
Thanks to Suldog for making this a movement!
(Turkey Shoot 2006 - what a beauty!)
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
TURKEY SHOOT 2007
I am so excited. I love Thanksgiving ("Thanks for the country! Sorry about the smallpox!)
I love going out to western Mass with Grandpa and getting the turkey. I make him shoot it with his blunderbuss, just like in olden times.
And instead of frittering away my youth with blogging for my mom and my sister's amusement, I am typing my recipes into Excel and making a shopping spreadsheet. NaNoWhatMo?
Anyone who knows me is laughing at that last bit about using excel.
Right now I am cooking for 10 (I think, maybe 12) but I am really going to make enough for 14 so that we can have lots of leftovers.
There is nothing like Thanksgiving to smother an entire plate of otherwise healthy veg and lean meat with tasty gravy!
Or to start drinking ridiculous amounts of alcohol at 1pm on a Thursday.
Bring on the old Kentucky bourbon. Who doesn't love a little Puritan Punch to get the party started....
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
You know the one, the kind that goes:
Totally annoying. So now I am really tired and totally not funny even a little.
Plus, I hate my NaNoWriMo project. It stinks. I can't write.
It's like thinking "oh I can act" and then getting on stage and finding out that instead of channeling Meryl Streep a la "I had a faahhhm in Aaahhhfrica...", you're channeling Madonna a la Swept Away.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
And I am hesitant to be judgy, but empirical data suggests that Northeastern students are more likely than their Boston Conservatory counterparts to party with loud music, louder friends, and more shouts of "BOOOOOYAH!!!!!"
I have been know to complain about it once or twice.
So yesterday evening there is a knock at my door and it is the girl next door and no wonder the boys send her because she is perfectly charming. She gave me her cellphone number and said they were going to have a party but to call if it got too loud.
And yeah, they were loud. But I think because I was expecting it I was able to sleep through most of it. Unfortunately a couple of loud & rowdy party goers went berserk in the back yard crushing cans and shouting at around 2:30 which woke me up.
But from the sounds of it the hosts roped them back in pretty quick. I managed to roll back over to sleep. However, I thought I might have heard a doorbell and someone say "police" but I might have been dreaming that part.
At any rate the party did seem to peter out by 2:45am.
All I can say, from things I've read over at UniversalHub, I am just excited they are not BU or BC students.
Thursday, November 08, 2007
Sounds as gross as it feels.
I am convinced that it is allergies. This same thing happened last year.
Or maybe I just get a wikked bad cold every 12 months.
Anyway, for three weeks I have been STUFFED UP. Every inhale is followed by an annoying whistling-flappery noise, and a dementia inducing sinus tickle.
My sleep has been fitful at best, and when I wake up in the morning my throat hurts and swallowing causes my eardrums to flex inward and press on my shriveled brain.
In my current vernacular it's "nod preddy".
I've taken enough Sudafed to technically stay awake and not operate heavy machinery for the next three months.
And one more Tylenol will put me into liver failure.
So when my co-worker suggested snorting up a faceful of Zicam Intense Sinus Relief, I said "oday". Never mind that the internet is awash with reports of Zicam users losing all sense of smell and scary stuff like that.
Preventing sinus pressure from building in my brain and likely making my eyeballs shoot out of my skull was worth losing my already crappy sense of smell.
She also warned me that the initial blast of Zicam was going to hurt like a major mutherclucker.
Well I blasted the dose up my "node" and nothing.
It turned out that the snot ball in my head was so big the spray went right into the booger and not onto the sensitive sinus tissue, preventing the crippling pain I'd been warned about.
And so for the first 45 minutes after that initial squirt - nothing.
And then all of a sudden I could fully sniff. I was SO excited I kept sniffing like a well trained drug beagle.
Which was immediately followed by a searing, burning pain across the front of my face.
But, hey, the pain is temporary.
And it is now about 8 hours after the first spray and I am still giddily sniffing through BOTH nostrils.
No more a-choo!
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
They're going to redo the Southeast Expressway.
Holy clusterf*ck batman, that's gonna SUCK.
According to the Globe article, the work will take place at night. They're going to resurface the road between Braintree and Savin Hill.
Which makes me curious as to why they aren't going to do anything to the road from Savin Hill up to Boston.
Ugh, like I said - it's going to suuuuuuuuuckkkkkkk.......
His plan is to live to be 100. He got a book, did the research, he is a man with a plan!
He lives on his own in a regular apartment building, dates more than I do, and instead of enjoying the Red Sox Rolling Rally the other day, he managed to somehow get a ride across Boylston Street in an ambulance.
Turns out that he was trying to cross Boylston Street some time before the Rally and the cops wouldn't let him. I guess they thought it was easier to hold back a 92 year old with a walker then to let him break the line and rush the players.
(Let me just also say that Grampy walks when the fancy strikes him since he gave up his car some years back)
Well a nice lady in the crowd started to make a fuss on his behalf and an ambulance driver stepped in, put Gramps, walker and all, into his "bus" and tried to cross Boylston.
But the cops wouldn't let the ambulance cross either. So on when the siren and the lights and the end result was that Gramps made it across.
I've left out some important details to this story to protect the helpful...
How he got home is a different story.
But my point is that the best thing about my darling Grandpa is that when we call him to ask him how his day went, this is the kind of story we get.
Not about how they served mushed peas again for lunch in the cafeteria.
Sunday, November 04, 2007
Pretty cool huh.
I am going to make it a law that Wednesday is legally Prince Spaghetti day (a mandatory office holiday) and that everyone is to be given ice cream sandwiches on Fridays. Oh and that it will be illegal to ban jeans in the workplace.
I will defer to my co-president Barack to take care of everything else.
Here are the results:
Hillary Clinton - 43 votes
Rudy Guiliani - 13 votes
John McCain - 6 votes
Barack Obama - 46 votes
Lily Von Schtoop - 46 votes
WAAAAHOOOOOO, NA NA NA NA, NA NA NA NA, HEY HEY HEY
Pats won, Colts lost.
Only a matter of time before Dungy wants to see the tape yo!
And the Sox won the World Series.
What the f*ck is going on around here.......
Friday, November 02, 2007
Thursday, November 01, 2007
Well, maybe not a facelift so much as a tummy tuck.
Did I say it was gonna be major? I mean may-ja!
The renovation is going to cost $75 million smackaroos.
And the assessment is due at the end of the month, in full.
$75 mill between 500 folks works out to about $150,000 per person - if you were going to lay it out like that. Of course it's not going to be evenly divided, but fo'shizz if someone came to me and told me I had to come up with $75,000 in thirty days, I would probably go cuckoo.
That's $2500 per day. Holy pit sweat Batman, I am stressing and I don't even live there!
Of course the trustees seem to think nothing of signing merrily on the dotted line. Hell, Walsh Bros is thrilled to be doing such a big job - not only are they right down the street, but heck if you are going to do it right, do it union! And that is easily worth about $35,000,000 right there.
I feel bad for the few people in the article who are saying "whoa nelly, you want HOW much to do WHAT exactly". From the sounds of the article, you'd have thought they were the ones who pooped in the punch bowl.
Heck, for $75K I could build an exact replica of my own house in my backyard!
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
It's muthaf*ckin' NaNoWriMo Time Yo!
Yep, it's 50,000 words or bust time again.
I've have attempted this challenge 3 years in a row now and I can only seem to get to 10,000 words before I get to the WHYAMIDOINGTHISSTUPIDCRAP stage.
Ugh what is with the swearing lately?!
Anyway, so when I post nothing funny on Shamrag this month, now you know why.
And dammit, don't forget to vote. Show me some love people!
Millions of strangers giving candy to kids...
But somehow that seems so, so wrong.
I still enjoy buying candy (the good kind - no crappy small boxes of raisins or shriveled up old apples here) and I still get a thrill when trick-or-treaters come to the door all dressed up in adorable costumes.
Especially the kids who really dress up in elaborate costumes, who still say "TRICK OR TREAT" and who say thank you. Those kids are the ones who can help themselves to as much candy as they want.
Happy Halloween pumpkins!
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
I've been swearing quite a bit these days (tired, cranky, allergy-ridden) but this video made me feel miles better about pretty much everything.
Famous people swearing - SO NOT APPROPRIATE FOR WORK!!!!
(the c-word is used a few times)
PS: The link above has a much better sound sync thing going on.....
Monday, October 29, 2007
Then drivers in Connecticut would be a bunch of Connectic*nts.
Driving through the little-yet-LONNNNNGGGGGGEST state last night I was amazed at the sheer as*holitude of CT drivers.
It was easier to count how many times I saw a blinker in use (twice!). Drivers use all lanes as passing/racing lanes, god help anyone getting onto the highway and into the path of a passer in the far right lane. Then there are those who will ride your bumper until they can nose their way into the tiniest gaps in traffic to get one car length ahead. Most seem to have no concept of the "zipper" theory when road construction forces lanes to merge....
I used to think it was a joke about the ferocity of the Connecticut State Police and how dogged they are in their pursuit of speeders, but now I realize that really they are just shooting
fish in a barrel.
And against the Redskins to boot.
I was down in DC this weekend and among other things, happened to be hanging out with our man Pedro who was valiantly wearing his Vrabel jersey through Redskin country.
A few times more than once I heard an anonymous "cheater!" float through the crowd. But clearly no fan was really ballsy enough to follow up on that.
Which does make me laugh in retrospect. I mean I get the whole taping scandal - but it's not steroids or betting.
And 52 to 7 is a wiiiiiiiiiiide ass margin. That's not cheating by taping, that's cheating by psychic.
Well I guess it would suck to be on the team that had to face Brady, then Cassel, and then the third string guy.....
It would have been classic if they had finally called up the quarterback from Foxboro High.
That I would have paid to see.
Ha, that's what those Redskins get for having a bunch of face touchers for fans.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Not only did I whinge about it here, but then I whinged about it on someone else's blog, thanks for letting me spew on your blog Suldog! And whinged about to the Department of Telecommunications and Cable, who basically gave me the low down on exactly what kind of a scam cable television really is.
So imagine my joy when I got home and found that the box is GONE!!!! They managed to convince another neighbor to have the box stuck onto his house, the dilapidated sh*tbox that it is, but I am happy it is gone and my business with Con-cast is OVER!
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
To give you an idea of how much that is, it's as if all of:
Boston (90 square miles)
Cape Cod (413 sq mi)
Martha's Vineyard (100 square miles)
Nantucket (60 square miles)
literally burned completely down to the ground. All of it together.
That is some amount of burning huh.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Back in March a young man was shot and killed in front of a local middle school at 4pm in the afternoon by two other young men in a car.
I am not going to into the specifics of the case, you can read about that yourself and make your own opinions.
However the narrative of the events broke my heart.
In condensed form, and in my own words, it went something like this:
On March 14th just prior to 4pm the two defendants were driving in a car leased by X. They were members of X gang and looking for members of Y gang.
The victim was standing on the curb in front of the Timilty School.
Defendant A was driving and told Defendant B "just bag" him and handed him a pair of black gloves, again saying "I don't care who you get, just bag 'em".
They then rolled up and fired on the victim, firing seven rounds that hit the victim in the neck, head, and chest.
The family of the victim was sitting in the court and his poor mother was listening to this.
However you look at this, whichever angle you choose, at the end of the day the visceral reaction is similar to watching a horror movie. Listening to the narrative unfold you really have to fight the urge to yell to the victim to RUN, RUN, GET AWAY, GO, RUN!!!!
Especially when you see his mom in the court hearing how bullets pierced the neck that once probably smelled like newborn to her, that bullets crashed through a skull that held so much potential, that his life was sadly snuffed out so dangerously arbitrarily.
And while I know that this story occurs all over, all the time, on many different levels and scales, this was just my own observations of a sad event in Boston.
I figured they'd read it, and probably my mom and my sister too - bringing my total readership level to about 12.
But I inserted a stat counter anyway. My ego made me dooit.
Sometimes those original 12 readers would get another reader and my readership would bump up to 24-30 readers.
And occasionally I get a reference on Universal Hub. Which boosts those stats to about 50-80 readers.
So imagine my surprise when I checked the old stat counter yesterday afternoon and saw that the 'rag had 300 hits.
I did a little checking and found that I had been referenced in an article on Slate.com. And then another reference on Boston.com.
Woah, well that would explain why today when I looked at the stat counter it was over 3000 hits.
That is some kind of pressure now.
Monday, October 22, 2007
So here you are, in no particular order, some oldies but goodies:
The Nacho Man:
My Hands Down Favorite Pick Up Line:
The Best Blankie Ever
How We Park in Boston
AND AS ALWAYS.....
Thank you dear reader for reading!
Sunday, October 21, 2007
But MOSTLY I am exhausted because my neighbors have been waking me up at 4:30AM for the last three mornings in a row.
It seems that one of them is a bartender who gets home with a pigpile of friends between 4 -4:3oAM.
One of whom is a giggly, shrill girl who likes to slam doors.
I get it, they're students, they have to work to pay tuition and crap, and they're so busy working and studying that they are owed some fun time.
But please please please, SHUT THE F*CK UP AT 4:30 IN THE MORNING!
So the one thing I never knew about the game was how much the coaches rub to each other. It's a secret language like pig latin.
Watching Terry "the Spittah" Francona: he rubs his cheek twice, then once down the forearm, a tug on the ear, and scratches his elbow. Or something like that.
To which some other coach on the field replies with: a tug on his cap, a swipe down the leg, two taps on the forearm, and a hand squeeze under the armpit. Or something like that.
And then the catcher taps twice on his balls and the pitcher knows to throw a fastball.
Which is a universal statement that means: If you don't pitch an out, I will punch you in the nuts.
And since every single member & player in Red Sox Nation is highly superstitious, I am posting this prayer again for them, so as not to disrupt the equilibrium.
Our Father, who art at Fenway...
Baseball be thy game.
Thy Kingdom come,
Playoffs need to be won,
On Earth, then on to the Cask 'n' Flagon.
Give us this day, a perfect Papi,
And forgive us our losses,
As we forgive those,
Like Eric Gagné.
And lead us not, into desperation,
But deliver us from any losses.
For thine is the Power,
And the Glory,
To beat the Indians,
Forever and ever....the Yankees still suck
(Thanks AGAIN to HollyLollyPop for this.
If the Sox go.....all.....the......way...... I will post it again during the World Series)
Friday, October 19, 2007
Thursday, October 18, 2007
He was born in California and raised in the People's Republic of Cambridge.
According to IMDB his real name is Benjamin Geza Affleck-Boldt.
My gawd! The horrah!
And let me tell you, everyone on THIS side of the rivah know just what exactly is in that watah oveh THEYAH.
But whatevah. I am still gonna go see Gone Baby Gone - represent yo!
Baseball be thy game.
Thy Kingdom come,
Playoffs need to be won,
On Earth, then on to the Cask 'n' Flagon.
Give us this day, a perfect Papi,
And forgive us our losses,
As we forgive those,
Like Eric Gagné.
And lead us not, into desperation,
But deliver us from any losses.
For thine is the Power,
And the Glory,
To beat the Indians,
Forever and ever....the Yankees still suck
(thanks to HollyLollyPop for forwarding this to me!)
love to love you bayyyyybeeee"
huh? Sounds familiar....
love to love you bayyyyybeeee"
Oh my god, AM disco. I have to say, Donna Summer is very popular in my neighborhood.
Probably because she is from here. Like why NKOTB is still popular in Dot.
Now I am going to have boogie in my step all day today....
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
And the sad part is I totally forgot that Manny Delcarmen was on the team!
Hey, at least I admit I am only a fan when they're winning in the post-season.
Monday, October 15, 2007
But I am not going to worry about that until they play the Colts in November.
The Pat's bye week isn't until the week after that game, so that is the only reason I am a little nervous. But probably it is only going to help them maintain their momentum.
Well, whatever, GO PATS!
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Friday: went to see Zanna, Don't! at the Speakeasy with Brucealicious and laughed more in an hour and forty-five minutes than I did all last week. Went for affogado after and then came home and started a batch of bread.
Saturday: Got up, had brekkie with the Evil Twin, went to the farmer's market with Julibanana and spent all my money. Went to the library for a book, then home to finish bread - which turned out completely crap and was promptly turned into bird food. I think I did something else, but I forget what. Oh yeah, I made granola and I made a batch of yogurt.
Sunday: Got up and then pretty much spaced out until the Evil Twin came to get me to go get Grandpy and we all went to Upstairs on the Square for Momma's birthday brunch. I had to say I preferred the Pudding to the Square - shoddy service (slow, inefficient), lots of flies, and ungenerous amounts of coffee were hardly hallmarks at the Pudding! However, the food was good and I ate plenty.
Then I came home and started to cook. I made farmer's market veg soup with orzo and I am trying to make a non-crap batch of bread. I also made some pizza dough.
The reason I am making all this food is because I am challenging myself to eat nothing commercial for one week.
Seriously, I eat way too much processed and chemically crap. It's doing my head in.
So far I have learned that the farmer's market is expensive but the veg is astonishingly different from supermarket veg.
I kind of knew that would be true, but honestly the taste of the farm carrot compared to the market carrot is as different as the taste between cheddar cheese and a rotten anchovy.
I've also learned that finding locally grown/made is not so easy. I mean really, Boston is home to the bean and the cod, the least I could hope to find are a few local beans!
And lastly I've learned that Whole Foods and Trader Joes are now similarly priced, and in some instances Whole Foods is cheaper. Which is sort of a bummer.
We'll see how long this experiment lasts. I predict that it will last until about coffee & munchkin break on Monday.
Sunday, October 07, 2007
You would never ever see that kind of wave at Castle Island.
No wonder a million Chinese people are evacuating.
Saturday, October 06, 2007
But now I dunno.... X-Box, PSP, Wii... these aren't even words to me. Just a bunch of vowels and consonants hanging out.
Are they even called video games any more?
However, I am in love with the Halo 3 ad. I think Halo 3 is a video game but whateve, the ad is really good.
It is an examination of a battlefield diorama set to Chopin's Prelude No. 15 in D-flat "Raindrop".
Check it out:
Friday, October 05, 2007
Don't say I never give yous anything!
To carry all your stuff around in, how about some burlap bags? You have to take 100 of them. That would be great for wrapping trees in for the winter. Or you could make them into wedding favors I guess...
If you want 'em: http://boston.craigslist.org/sob/zip/440672530.html
For the culinarily minded folk among us, how about some P-Town taffy?
Five pieces, free, garlic flavored. Did I mention it's free? Check it out: http://boston.craigslist.org/gbs/zip/439283929.html
If you are hip to all crap retro, this water bed from the menopausal woman in Duxbury is a must have. Specifically it must be filled with water from a hose. As opposed to spit from a dropper. But whateve, it available, go get it at: http://boston.craigslist.org/sob/zip/437229392.html
Huh, this person is offering free BBQ. Which I think means BBQ food. Because in my mind BBQ comes from a grill. I wonder if that is a regional thing... Well anyway, the ad doesn't really specify either. You be the judge here: http://boston.craigslist.org/bmw/zip/441154832.html
T-t-t-t-t-t-hat's all folks!
Good luck and happy free stuffin'!
Thursday, October 04, 2007
What makes me crazy is that there are people going on about how the "public" has the "right" to know if their firefighters are drunk or high. Puhleez!
Doctors abuse drugs & alcohol, as do EMT's, and police officers, and teachers, and airline pilots, and bus drivers, and these are people who guide us through our present daily lives.
For that matter, lots of people I encounter free admit to taking recreational drugs.
Not only that but about 90% of all the people I know have driven a car after having three or more drinks.
And it's always all fine until someone dies.
Like these two firefighters. Now people seem so determined to enjoy dragging the dead through the mud. Even if they are probably a little mud spattered themselves.
And finally, the real criminals here are the owners/operators of the restaurant as well as the city restaurant inspectors at ISD. Were the restaurant grease traps never cleaned? Did ISD ever tell them to clean it? That is a lot of grease, not just a thin coating.
For a grease fire to smolder in a ceiling for hours, while letting diners continue their meal, until it explodes and kills people, THAT'S criminal.
And how much do I hate Channel 7 news for jumping back on this story a day after they were ordered not to? A whole lot.
And how pathetic is Channel 7 for whining that they were the first with the news and they would have reported it FIRST only they were BLOCKED from breaking it by the courts and the union? Really f*cking pathetic.
It's sad that Channel 7's lead story is all about how they were SHAFTED on their scoop, especially when the breaking news should be about the 13 year-old boy who was shot and killed in Dorchester.
It would be great if lots of people stopped watching 7 news.
Ok, I am done.
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
But I am still not excited.
Because in truth I am really just a Pats fan.
Because it's only Game One. It's not like it's Game 7 of the World Series.
Ahhhhhh, but I do think Jason Varitek is hawwwwt.
Even if I wouldn't recognize him in person. Not even if he walked up to me and handed me a baseball that David Ortiz hit out of the park in the bottom of the tied up ninth in Game Seven of the World Series against the Yanks.
Or something like that....
It would be better than having to get some ding-dong reporters annoying opinion mixed up with fact.
Seriously, I am so sick of the bias, and the sensationalism, and the laziness, and the general "blergh-iness" of the news in general, I am thinking of just reading the AP wire headlines.
Like right now for example, all the major news channels are advertising the 11 o'clock news with lurid tales of the two firefighters recently killed in a restaurant fire. They are saying that one had alcohol in his system, while the other had cocaine.
What makes me so totally disgusted is that they are pretty much basing these reports on "anonymous" sources.
For crying out loud!
These are two DEAD firefighters. Killed at a fire from an smoldering, exploding ceiling. They left behind waves of family and friends and co-workers who are still trying to cope with this dreadful awful loss.
Leave them alone, have a little respect.
Just like this weekend when a young Revere police officer was fatally shot in the head. Newscasters could stop themselves from making dramatic and ultimately untruthful suggestions that perhaps the bullet came from another officer or that it was very suspect that they were hanging out after hours...
There is a reason that newscast audiences are tuning out and newspaper readers are dropping off - the quality of news is crap.
It's not news, it's an affront to everyone from 1st graders on up.
From a talk he gave in Pennsylvania:
"I delegate to good people. I always tell Condi Rice, `I want to remind you, Madam Secretary, who has the Ph.D. and who was the C student. And I want to remind you who the adviser is and who the president is."
I have worked for people like this, no - not the president, and believe me, anyone who says something like this is a really a**hole to work for.
The kind of person whose picture gets used as a dartboard target at happy hour.
Monday, October 01, 2007
They are in Cincy tonight, playing the Bengals.
And holy crap them Buckeyes sure are LOUD.
Two of my favorite people are Ohioans - SallyNaNa, and Karenanowrimo, so I sort of feel more generous than I normally would.
So GO PATS
And: Good Job Bengals!
Now they're in the playoffs..... *yaaaaaawn*
In a month or so it's going to be either:
Whoo hoo just like three years ago!!!
Gawd, it's just like fuckin' Bucknah all ovah again!
Personally I think Boston and Sox fans in general are happier when there is 86 years between pennants. It's not that Sawx fans like to suffah, but it's like how they deal with chicks - no one likes the ones that put out all the time.
Take it to the edge and then dash all hopes - it keeps 'em hanging on for more.
First there was Sun Starship from MIT who went to Logan with a LiteBrite tee-shirt and then instead of answering any questions from the Staties like "hey, what are those wires for?" she kept walking.
She's lucky she is still alive.
And then there is Ermiyas A. Asfaw from Washington DC who really had no clue about the complete lack of any sense of "hue-mah" (humor for those of you not from here) of every airport employee and State Troopah.
Seriously, if you express any tendency towards mirth, Massport will not allow you onto airport grounds.
It seems that Asfaw made an un-funny non-joke with the intent to antagonize an airline employee.
Honestly, would Al Qaeda announce themselves and their plans in English to some numbnut from Eastie?
Like Dean would say: I DOWDIT.
But you piss off that same numbnut he is going to call over the Staties. And then you're really f*cked because they've all had their humor glands surgically removed at State Troopah School.
And Asfew has no excuse - he is from Washington DC for crying out loud! I bet he would never said that at Dulles.
So it must be the fumes. Or the water.
Friday, September 28, 2007
(Plus their music scratches that spot in my cerebral cortex that makes me happy.)
Anyway, about the show...... IT F*CKING ROCKED.
With an excellent version of White Lightning and Wine, they also smashed through classics (Barracuda/Crazy on You), a couple of good covers (Immigrant Song/Love, Reign o'er Me), and two songs off of Ann's new album.
Ann Wilson was in rare form, her voice much better than their last visit to Boston.
And Nancy Wilson is awesome. Really, she is a rock goddess.
I want be Nancy Wilson for a day... *sigh*
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
There is this drink that I secretly really love. It is called a Lost in Space.
It is made with vodka, Tang, and I think a little smidge of crack.
Whatever - the crack makes it good, the Tang makes me want another one.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
A few items on the list include: running a marathon (see: Uta Pippig), play running back for the Patriots (I would be killed instantly and anyway #39 does a great job), drive a Formula One car around the track at Imola, make a cheese souffle for the Queen of England...
The most recent addition to that is: Enter a Food Eating Contest.
Don't get me wrong, I am fully capable of eating lots.
However when I over eat, all I want to do is have my stomach pumped, I wonder why Roman vomitoriums went out of style, and I lie in bed swearing to never eat again and to only have a little lemon juice and some lettuce for the rest of my days.
So when I read about people who are able to wolf down something ridiculous like 674 hotdogs in 48 minutes it makes my stomach go "blurp".
Not because of the amount the winner ate, but because of the amount that the runner up had to eat.
You'll notice in the picture there are four people huffing food. There can only be one winner.
It gives me a vicarious pain in my gut.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
I figure that I have probably eaten about two thousand fluffernutters in my short lifetime.
Not including the hundreds of mini-fluffernutters made on Ritz crackers.
I love Fluff (Marshmallow Fluff - NOT the Jet Puft Marshmellow Creme crap, THAT is NOT Fluff ok).
If I were twelve, you could probably get me to admit that I love Fluff so much, I would marry it.
So it's not a real shocker to hear that I will be going to the "What the Fluff" celebration of the stuff on Saturday, September 29 over in Somerville's Union Square, from 4-7pm.
I can't wait.
I think I am going to go make a fluffernutter right now.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
It can also be used in reference to the guy on "Deal or No Deal" who obeyed his wife's command and lost $1,000,000.
He was pretending to decide whether to take the "Deal" or not - at her behest he had already passed up a tailgating truck that came with Superbowl tickets, on field tickets, lunch with the team, sex with a cheerleader.... stuff like that, oh and $97,000 cash.
Yep, she made him turn that down.
Instead, when he had four cases left, plus his own, the banker offered him $197,000 down from a previous offer of $240,000.
And his wife says "take the money, honey" and looks totally pissed while he thinks about it. She tells him again to take the money, reminding him that he has debts to pay, squinting her eyes, and crossing her arms.
Then she shoots him a look that says: IF YOU DON'T TAKE THIS OFFER I SWEAR TO JESUS THAT I WILL NEVER LET YOU SEE ME NAKED EVER AGAIN AND I WILL ALSO REMIND YOU OF YOUR FAILURES AS A MAN FOR ALL THE REST OF OUR DAYS TOGETHER
Even I felt it. It was terrifying. I thought my tv would burst into flames.
And he immediately took the deal.
But then in the end, even though he was whipped, she looked like the a@@hole because it turned out that he had the $1,000,000 case.
At least he'll still get to see her nekkid!
Monday, September 17, 2007
But it's play group night. Every Monday night I go for two hours to a shelter for homeless women & children and play.
Yep - play.
Rolling on the floor, crayons, running in the yard, getting grubby, choochooo trains, the peanut butter song, juice and crackers kind of playing.
It's through a great organization, Horizons for Homeless Children, and now matter how totally sh*tty and awful my day has been, it all disappears when one of the kids says "c'mon let's play" or "sing me a song".
No one ever wants to hear me sing, except for these kids.
And at the end of the day it makes me take everything with a major chunk of salt.
We need more people to come and play. Sometimes I go on Wednesday's as well because we're short of people.
And we need a new playground out the back. Right now it's a dusty, dirty mess with lots of weird metal climbing-ish thingys that the kids just fall off. Plus all the boys want to play football or soccer and those dumb things just get in the way.
Anyone out there know anyone with a magic wand? Or a sack full of money?
But yeah so now I am home, covered in baby snot, peanut butter, dust, and a little crayon. And thinking, we need more volunteers.
It is fun. Dooooooooo it. You know you want tooooooooo..........
Sunday, September 16, 2007
In my dreams, when I am not marrying music moguls, I construct intricate dance routines like this:
I am sorry - I know that it is being played to DEATH on tv right now.
But seriously, in my dreams I a) look totally hot in an blue spangled pantsuit and b) can dance like that.
Go to YouTube and check out this other Feist video: My Man My Moon
It's my other fantasy dance sequence...
I am transfixed!
I love this song - it takes me back to about 1994-5 when the Evil Twin was at a Wikked Smaht Skoo down in DC and I would go down and visit her and listen to this song on my Walkman over and over again and pine over completely unrequited crushes.
And we'd talk about dumb boys and eat at Au Bon Pain and drink beers.
Thank god for Mazzy Starr.
And for Rita & Fred.
And for everyone who keeps writing about how Bill Belichick is an awful cheater who has ruined the Patriots, the game of football, and the integrity of ever single person in the entire Patriots organization, I say this:
Especially Margery Egan whose opinion piece in the Bawstin Hehrald today made her sound like a depressed menopausal woman without a sense of humor. (READ IT HERE)
Yeah, taping play calls for the other team is cheating. Just ask a number of other team coaches in the NFL. No one spends that much money on sports teams just to guess how the other team plays.
Belichick has to lose a first round draft pick, fork over $500K and some other stuff. And for this Margery Menopause Eagan thinks he ought to be burned at the stake, along with his baby-making man-whore QB Brady.
I wonder how she feels about Barry Bonds*? Or about the gambling NBA referee? Or about Chris Simon, the NHL player who called Mike Grier a certain racial slur beginning in "N" and then who intentionally bashed the face of another player.
I could go on, but then I'd sound like a depressed menopausal fun killer.