The Albatross calls

Sometimes I love writing this blog.

Other times it is my albatross.

I really have absolutely nothing at all of interest to write about. Well, that's not true exactly.

But I have been out of sorts this weekend. I didn't get anything done on my to do list. No laundry, no house cleaning, no nothing. I did go to the gym which felt terrific, and I managed to do a little food shopping, which was necessary.

I also signed up for OkCupid because after a short & sweet distraction I am trying to figure out how to get my dating feet wet again. And I have to start somewhere.

Unbelievably enough I do not have stacks of date requests piling up at my feet. Not because I am not awesome! But more because I really haven't been very genuine about putting that vibe out there. When a guy flirts with me I get sort of panicky and sweaty and usually blurt out something completely inappropriate like "I love lamp" or "Snafghhrty".

Sad but true. I am working on it, I swear. So please, don't be shy - feel totally free to ask me out (uh, that is if you are male, single, & available). I promise that I will recover my entire vocabulary in time.

So yeah.

Oh wait no, I did go out last night with my pal Jo-Jo-Joann. If I was Asian I am pretty sure we'd be Dopplegangers. We go through pretty much the same sh*t, only she dates women and I date men. But we have some pretty similar emotional reactions to stuff. Sometimes it is just nice to talk to your Furby.

And I slept in really late today, which I never do. But that makes me tired all day.

Plus it was a cloudy, cool day and that makes me even more lethargic. So lethargic that I can't really imagine going to work tomorrow.

Which might also be due in part to the fact that I really ought to get a new job. Don't get me wrong - I love where I work. However I am not loving the paycheck. It's too small and living from paycheck to paycheck is getting to be less Bohemian and more boring.

*sigh*

I think that I just need a hot toddy and my bed. Everything will be back to rights tomorrow.

Let Me Explain One More Time: NO

I've said it before, and I will say it again: I will never, ever run a marathon.

And I am perfectly aware that when statements like that are made, the opposite quite often happens. Like how I said I would never ever quit smoking (I did) and that how I would never ever join a gym (I have), or how I would never learn to swim underwater without plugging my nose (I can).

But I will never, ever run a marathon.

That kind of long distance running makes scrambled eggs out of the brain and a ropey mess out of everything else.

Who else in their right mind would sh*t themselves simply to make a better time?
(It happens WAAAAY more often that just than that one time with Utta Pippig. Gross then, gross now.)

And honestly when I see some of those runners taking these weird rubber legged half run-half walk steps across the finish line I am tempted to immediately call them an ambulance.

Because if it wasn't Patriots Day and they weren't crossing a finish line and they were doing that - I would immediately dial 9-1-1.

More Real Estate Crap I Hate

You might remember my post earlier on certain overused real estate terms that make me bonkers... you can re-read all about it HERE.

Well today I came across THIS real estate listing.
(click on it to make it bigger)


I don't even know where to start about all the things about this ad that grate on my eyes/ears/brain.

From the use of the word "intriguing" in the headline to describe the penthouse, to the "essentially new construction", to the jacuzzi in the bedroom....

It all just hurts so very very much.

Let me let the ad do the "talking" so to speak:

"original gumwood ballusters evoke the history of the history of Cambridge and the house that once was" (Huh? The only part of that sentence that makes sense are the first two words. It's 'balusters' by the way.)

"luxorious cabinetry" (wrong!)

"Essentially new construction with an incredible location" (so the location comes with the unit? how convenient.)

"A 100 year make-over with brand new everything" (It took a 100 years to make over? Well that would explain the 'essentially new' part)

Ugh, I could go on. Oh wait! I will!

A fricking Jacuzzi IN THE BEDROOM.

With "with fireplace views from Jacuzzi tub!"

I have never understood the Jacuzzi in the bedroom. Tub, toilets, sinks, all that crap belongs in the BATHROOM. It used to be that if you had those things in the bedroom it meant you were living in a flophouse. A fancy flophouse.

No wonder housing sales are slumping. They are slouching towards idiocy.

Just don't get me started on the ad that touted a "coy pond" as a garden feature.

Perfect work insult

The other day I told my lovely co-worker to please stop poking me in the turkey wing. She was standing behind me poking at me in the part of my shoulder that is basically too close to my armpit for poking comfortability.

I told her to "quiddaat*!!!!". We joke a lot. She is frickin' funny.

Anyway, her response to my "quiddaat" was to say "Oh yeah? Well, next time I'm gonna slap you in the burger!"

SAY WHAT?

That sounds SO inappropriate, but only because I am gutter-minded.

And anyway, she is so skinny and scrawny she doesn't even have a burger to slap. She's more the chicken nugget sort.

So today when I was venting to the Evil Twin about how a different, not so nice, co-worker was "slapping my burger" and how it was not right because Wednesdays are burger-slapping days, the Evil Twin sent me this response:

Uh, no, since it's a long weekend and you work for the county the code reads:

"Wednesday, from here on out will be and henceforth known as, burger slapping day unless heretofore a Friday before a State mandated holiday made up to accommodate tall thin people aimlessly running around which will therefore become another burger slapping day."

So there you go, the exception to Burger Slapping Wednesday rule. And don't you forget it.

Or I might have to slap you in the corndog.


* "quiddaat" is how we say "quit it" in our house.

Why I am so tired this week.

A piano is sucking the life out of me. An oboe AND a piano.

Namely the piano that starts the Cheers theme.
"making your way in the world today takes everything you got!"

Channel 38 now runs an episode of Cheers at 11pm. There is something about the cornball opening theme that sort of hypnotizes me and lulls me into watching the whole episode.

And by the time the credits and ending theme roll at 11:30, and that oboe music starts up, I am completely in a deep trance.

At least I think it is an oboe. Quite frankly I don't know diddley-poo-poo about musical instruments. It could be a flute. Or a pan pipe for all I know.

What I do know is that I cannot resist the Cheers re-run. And it's sucking the life out of me.

Especially since I am also getting up these days at 6:30 in the morning to do writing exercises.

Ugh. I expect that I will only last until about next Wednesday.

Hey, look what I found!!!

It was peeking out at me from behind some trees!

Here's a closer look:



I think it is sad to be so far away from Downtown.

T'was a dark and stormy evening....

Why you want to watch this video

My favorite celeb blog is The Superficial which sadly is not updated on the weekend.

So instead I catch up on the late shows over on People.com because they conveniently clip together the funny bits of all the shows into a few minute segment.

This one you have to watch, if only to hear sweet little Betty White call Craig Ferguson an illegal immigrant. Although Stephen Colbert dry-heaving is funny too.

Click HERE to watch.

Updated Nada Surf Review

Today, Saturday, is turning out to be a F*CKING wonderful day.

It's NOT raining out. I am NOT going to work. Things are starting to turn green in my backyard. The birds are chirping away. I have Nada Surf blaring on the radio.

I once read an article somewhere that said that everyone has a certain spot on their cerebral cortex that is scratched by certain sounds. Which apparently is why music makes people happy.

I believe that 100%. Right now I am listening to the Lucky album. Particularly to track 6 Are You Lightning? which has a chorus of "oohh ooh oohhh" or something like that and I can't help but want to sing along.

Which is how it was it was at their show on Thursday night. Pretty much I just sang along to every song. Which is I think what the lead singer, the wonderful Matthew Caws, kind of wanted. Because who wouldn't be excited about a packed venue singing along to songs you wrote. And singing along to Blizzard of '77 was the highlight for me, since I usually listen to that when I walk home and have to fight the urge to sing out loud and scare people.

Although it was very very cool when the crowd took over on Fruit Fly. And then again on Weightless. Gives me goosebumps just thinking about it.

What I like about their music is that the lyrics are sometimes both happy and a little sad at the same time, and the actual sound of all the instruments together does that cerebral cortex thing to me. If I were a dog, my leg would be twitching right now.

Oh, and the sound at the Paradise here in Boston is really good, unlike almost every other venue I have ever heard music at, I didn't leave completely deaf, and I could hear the band perfectly. I hope the new management doesn't f*ck it up.

The other thing to love seeing shows at smaller venues is that you can meet the band afterward.

That's how I got to meet Aqualung with FabAmy (and no, they are not a Jethro Tull cover band), and how I got my picture taken (sort of) with Rhett Miller, and how I got to meet Matthew Caws, who is a very sweet and very personable performer. I am in love with him now - well not the actual person, but rather the musician character. Sorry Rhett.

Ah, yeah, today is turning out to be a great day.

I *heart* Nada Surf

Yes, it is true, I am in love with a band.

*sigh*

Not since Duran Duran have I felt this gooey! The show last night at the Paradise FRICKING ROCKED.

I went with CheapThrills Rob and I am really counting on him to post a more level-headed review of the show.

Right now I am sitting at my desk trying to figure out how on earth I am going to be able to get through the day today. If I don't die, I will post more about the show later.

Sometimes I feel like I am an alien, like from outer space

All afternoon people around the office having been saying:

"Hey, what's the score? Anyone know the score?"

And all afternoon I have been like:

"What game? What are you people talking about???"

Oh right. The Red Sox home opener. Duh.


In other news, I correctly guessed (or rather cribbed from the Evil Twin's sheet) that Kansas would win the basketball bracket thingy and I won the office pool. Whoo hoo!

I should be so lucky in guessing winning lottery numbers right.

Because at heart I like to quantify sh*t...

Or contextualize... whatever.

Anyway did you see this headline?

185 Pounds of Cocaine Seized in Lynn Bust

Well, it got me thinking - what exactly is 185lbs of cocaine ?

Hmmm.

Cocaine is typically sold in grams so, according to a random online converter, 185 pounds is about 83,915 grams.

According to the White House Drug Policy website, the 2007 cost of pure cocaine was about $119.00 per gram, although at that time they also indicated that there was a cocaine shortage in New England.

Furthermore they estimated the street cost of powdered cocaine (cut, not pure) was selling for between $20 to $30 per gram in New York City, while in Bangor, ME a gram was selling for about $100.

The bust in Lynn netted 185 lbs/83,915g of coke, which officials claim is worth $8,400,000.00 - which works out to about $100 per gram.

Which means two things.

1. It was not pure cocaine, in case you're curious.

and

2. At that price, we are definitely in a recession.

NKOTB or Not

My inner teenager is secretly wikked excited to see Joey, Jonathon, Donnie, Jordan, and Danny hit the stage at the Tweetah Centah this summah. Especially if Tiff-ney opens for them.

Already I am sort of breathing a little funny. Is it hot in here?

Also let me explain that my inner teenager is a split personality.

I spent half my time as a teenager being misunderstood with my gay friends at Rudi's cafe on Newbury Street who drank iced coffee and did weird drugs in the bathroom and who lived in grody basement apartments in the South End. Yes, I am that old. *sigh* With them I listened to Depeche Mode, Bronski Beat, Madonna.

The other half of those teenage years were misspent hanging out with my big-haired girlfriend from Dot who drove the bitchinest Camaro EVAH and who taught me how to cuss with gusto and how to drive like a Masshole. She introduced me to wine coolers and to boys who wore Dakkar Noir and who wore turtlenecks, Champion sweatshirts, and Pumas - or maybe they were Adidas... And we listened to Guns n Roses, Poison, and I secretly fell in love with NKOTB.

When your favorite boy band is FROM where you live you start to figure that at some point you are going to meet one of them. In fact I was pretty sure that me and Donnie were going to be making out at Castle Island at some stage.

Heck I would STILL make out with Donnie at Castle Island.

Which is why I used to go to the New Store on the Block, you know, to be closer to the boys.

Thank god for growing up. I think.

And uh, I will totally go with you if you get the tickets...

Oh oh oh oh oh, the RIGHT STUFF!