I feel like I've been neglecting poor old Shamrag. I can't seem to help it though, it's been one of those stretches where I've been feeling like my life has been fitting like an old pair of jeans that are still just a bit of a tight squeeze.
I keep having to suck it in, and the muffintop... As a result, nothing funny has been coming out.
It all sort of came to a head this weekend, starting with Friday night when I went to play trivia at Trident and did nothing but abuse my dear and patient trivia partner. Well, not so much abuse him, but I definitely crabbed his ear off.
Whoops!
So I stayed pretty much to myself this weekend. I guess I needed it. I guess I am not quite back comfortably in the life pants just yet.
Well at least now Mercury is out of retrograde. That should make a difference.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
The house began to twitch...
This day started off sunny and gorgeous!
Look at my overgrown garden! But I have to take pictures so I know what not to pull out in the spring thinking it's a weed...
And then the clouds rolled in. Yes, these pictures look a lot like pictures I've taken before but these are from today - note the leafy green difference.
You know, with all this damp weather around here it's probably a good idea to start checking behind your ears for little mushrooms.
Oh hot sunny day, I hardly knew ye.
Look at my overgrown garden! But I have to take pictures so I know what not to pull out in the spring thinking it's a weed...And then the clouds rolled in. Yes, these pictures look a lot like pictures I've taken before but these are from today - note the leafy green difference.
You know, with all this damp weather around here it's probably a good idea to start checking behind your ears for little mushrooms.
Oh hot sunny day, I hardly knew ye.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
You remind me of the babe...
Oh yeahhhhh I was at the Labyrinth sing & quote-a-long last night at the Coolidge Corner Theater. There were props and everything! And let me tell you, having a full theater sing along with you to "it's ohhhhnnly forever, not long aaaaaaat alllllllll" is really quite a thrill.
As my friend A-Banana said "Wow, that sure is some amount of make up he is wearing" (something like that anyway). But I don't care. David Bowie was my first real celebrity crush and I am still not over it yet.
Frankly, I may never get over it.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
I would say that more than alcohol was involved.
From Boston.com:
Boat flies out of Maine pond, lands in trees
May 24, 2009
SHAPLEIGH, Maine—Authorities say someone from Massachusetts suffered life-threatening injuries when a boat flew out of a Maine pond and landed eight feet off the ground in some trees.
The Maine Warden Service says four people, all from Massachusetts, were aboard the boat in Square Pond in Shapleigh when it crashed around 1:30 a.m. Sunday. Two of them were injured.
Sgt. Tim Place says alcohol was probably involved.
I am no physicist but I would guess that something more considerable than just alcohol was definitely involved.
And in other, sicker, news I am secretly impressed that a fellow Masshole managed to wing a boat out of a lake and into a tree.
Boat flies out of Maine pond, lands in trees
May 24, 2009
SHAPLEIGH, Maine—Authorities say someone from Massachusetts suffered life-threatening injuries when a boat flew out of a Maine pond and landed eight feet off the ground in some trees.
The Maine Warden Service says four people, all from Massachusetts, were aboard the boat in Square Pond in Shapleigh when it crashed around 1:30 a.m. Sunday. Two of them were injured.
Sgt. Tim Place says alcohol was probably involved.
I am no physicist but I would guess that something more considerable than just alcohol was definitely involved.
And in other, sicker, news I am secretly impressed that a fellow Masshole managed to wing a boat out of a lake and into a tree.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
How to remove a day from your life.
6:18am: The phone rings.
Never.A.Good.Sign.
Me: ughshufnsl$9@*@&4?
Mom: Your grandfather fell and you need to take him to the hospital and I can't take him because I have a meeting at 8 and can you take him because he fell last night and now he can't feel his leg or something.
Me: Huh?
6:19am: My day fall completely off this dimension.
So here is the long version. Make some popcorn, get a beer.
Mom calls me, I call Grandpa, Sister calls me, I call Dad, Mom calls Sister, and I end up zipping over to Grandpa's apartment because as it turns out he did indeed fall and now cannot move off of his bed.
I am at his house by about 6:40am. The maintenance man lets me in and lo and behold Grandpa is in fact lying in his bed, wrapped in a sheet like a mummy.
Curious.
Our conversation goes a little like this:
"So uh Gramps, what happened here?"
"Welllllllll I was going to sit down to put in my eye drops and I lost my balance and ended up on the floor. And when the police came, the EMT's looked me over and well I figured I was ok because I was able to stand up and then they put me back in bed like this and said to call in the morning if I didn't feel good and now I can't feel my leg too much and I have to pee. Owwwww!"
*sigh*
I hope that there is no part of me that decides to tough out pain when I am 93.
Grandpa tells me that he does not want me to call 9-1-1 for an ambulance. He wants me to call his own doctor and ask him to send an ambulance over. This is a ridiculous idea to me, because Dr. JTK is going to just tell me to call 9-1-1 and then he is going to think "What kind of a sh*tty granddaughter waits to call 9-1-1 while dear old Grandpa lies about with a possibly smashed-up hip anyway?"
But there really isn't any point to argue with Grandpa so I page Dr. JTK and I am on the phone with him by 7am.
PS: I love Dr. JTK. Everyone loves him. He could charms the birds from the sky he is that kind of awesome.
Of course he tells me to call the ambulance. AND I know what HE'S thinking. (see above)
The ambulance comes and by 8am or so we are on our way to the hospital. I ride in the back with Grandpa and Benny. I could, for lots of reasons, never be a paramedic but mainly because I get horribly carsick and would barf all over the patients.
Also for the record we totally lucked out today as far as medical professionals go.
Benny and Stan take us over to the hospital. They were great, very calming and reassuring, and just really restored my faith in people who do their job well for such little recognition.
Oh but importantly, let me just say that once we arrived at the Emergency Room the space-time continuum collapsed on me completely. I know that x-rays were taken and that tests were administered and that I sent about 700 text messages and talked to about 47 different staff and other traumas swirled in and out, but really from about 8:30am until about 2:45pm when my sister arrived, I have no clue how the time passed.
But it was definitely not in a blur because I can tell you all the weird little details, like how I saw evidence of two very bloody traumas come in and out - presumably out to operating rooms. And how when Grandpa is asked if can feed himself, he tells the WHOLE story of how one of my aunts comes up periodically and fills his freezer with homemade chicken pot pies, not just yeah he feeds himself. And that Melissa, the fantastic nurse who tended to Grandpa, had no problem giving him half an Oxycodone for the pain because even though he wanted to "tough it out" she was like "please, spare me". And that also my Sister and I took goofy photos of Grandpa and us in dumbass poses, much to our hysterical amusement.
When I finally looked at the clock, Sister and I were sitting in the Observation area, where they move you before moving you on, and it was 4pm.
How the f*ck did that happen? One minute I am in my comfy bed, minding my own business, and the next I am sitting in the Observation area wait for the transport to the rehab center.
Whoa!
I shoulda gotten the other half of that Oxy is what.
Oh and as it turns out, THANKFULLY, Grandpa did not break anything. Well, he is sure he broke his skinny ol'behind, but I say he was born with that crack in it...
We finally get to the rehab center. He looks like crap. I look like crap. We both sort of feel like crap, but he is on that Oxy high so I win the feel like crap contest.
But since he is the patient he gets cleaned up and tucked in by nurse Diane who we both now love completely because she is unbelievably nice and no bullsh*t. Not only that, but Gramps gets dinner delivered to his bed - a chicken sandwich, sherbert, puddings (two!), nasty soup, and some sort of protein in a can. I steal the peanut butter & jelly sandwich he doesn't want because frankly neither of us has eaten much and we are both famished.
By 7:45 I am DONE. But first Sister comes to get me and we both go back to Grandpa's apartment to get him some clothing and shoes and a book, oh and his Walkman. Because it turns out he can't do his physical therapy nekkid and shoeless. Rules, rules, rules! Geez, time to break a few if you ask me. We then schlepp the bag BACK to rehab before finally saying an official goodbye, so long sucka, to Gramps.
At this point I have this peculiar zombie like feeling and a certain sneaking feeling that this day did not in fact happen. Totally bizarro. Hospital-land time and regular-land time don't seem to be in sync at all. It was like being in a Seinfeld episode. I was up, I did stuff, things occurred, people talked, BUT NOTHING REALLY HAPPENED.
Weird!
I finally rolled in at 9pm and stole my housemates last Vanilla Coke Zero. I know she won't mind, but since this day didn't really even happen for me, maybe she'll never even know!
Oh and I would like to thank the following people for being so awesome and not letting this day suck: EMT's Benny and Stan, BWH nurse Melissa, Dr.'s Perkins, Wall, Katz, & Tan, Cataldo transport, SRH nurses Jamie and Diana, and mostly my Sister who knows EXACTLY what I mean when I say "ok, who flipped the turtle?", and Mom and Dad and Betsy. And also Anna and Brandon for being like "don't worry about it, we got it" because they totally do.
Never.A.Good.Sign.
Me: ughshufnsl$9@*@&4?
Mom: Your grandfather fell and you need to take him to the hospital and I can't take him because I have a meeting at 8 and can you take him because he fell last night and now he can't feel his leg or something.
Me: Huh?
6:19am: My day fall completely off this dimension.
So here is the long version. Make some popcorn, get a beer.
Mom calls me, I call Grandpa, Sister calls me, I call Dad, Mom calls Sister, and I end up zipping over to Grandpa's apartment because as it turns out he did indeed fall and now cannot move off of his bed.
I am at his house by about 6:40am. The maintenance man lets me in and lo and behold Grandpa is in fact lying in his bed, wrapped in a sheet like a mummy.
Curious.
Our conversation goes a little like this:
"So uh Gramps, what happened here?"
"Welllllllll I was going to sit down to put in my eye drops and I lost my balance and ended up on the floor. And when the police came, the EMT's looked me over and well I figured I was ok because I was able to stand up and then they put me back in bed like this and said to call in the morning if I didn't feel good and now I can't feel my leg too much and I have to pee. Owwwww!"
*sigh*
I hope that there is no part of me that decides to tough out pain when I am 93.
Grandpa tells me that he does not want me to call 9-1-1 for an ambulance. He wants me to call his own doctor and ask him to send an ambulance over. This is a ridiculous idea to me, because Dr. JTK is going to just tell me to call 9-1-1 and then he is going to think "What kind of a sh*tty granddaughter waits to call 9-1-1 while dear old Grandpa lies about with a possibly smashed-up hip anyway?"
But there really isn't any point to argue with Grandpa so I page Dr. JTK and I am on the phone with him by 7am.
PS: I love Dr. JTK. Everyone loves him. He could charms the birds from the sky he is that kind of awesome.
Of course he tells me to call the ambulance. AND I know what HE'S thinking. (see above)
The ambulance comes and by 8am or so we are on our way to the hospital. I ride in the back with Grandpa and Benny. I could, for lots of reasons, never be a paramedic but mainly because I get horribly carsick and would barf all over the patients.
Also for the record we totally lucked out today as far as medical professionals go.
Benny and Stan take us over to the hospital. They were great, very calming and reassuring, and just really restored my faith in people who do their job well for such little recognition.
Oh but importantly, let me just say that once we arrived at the Emergency Room the space-time continuum collapsed on me completely. I know that x-rays were taken and that tests were administered and that I sent about 700 text messages and talked to about 47 different staff and other traumas swirled in and out, but really from about 8:30am until about 2:45pm when my sister arrived, I have no clue how the time passed.
But it was definitely not in a blur because I can tell you all the weird little details, like how I saw evidence of two very bloody traumas come in and out - presumably out to operating rooms. And how when Grandpa is asked if can feed himself, he tells the WHOLE story of how one of my aunts comes up periodically and fills his freezer with homemade chicken pot pies, not just yeah he feeds himself. And that Melissa, the fantastic nurse who tended to Grandpa, had no problem giving him half an Oxycodone for the pain because even though he wanted to "tough it out" she was like "please, spare me". And that also my Sister and I took goofy photos of Grandpa and us in dumbass poses, much to our hysterical amusement.
When I finally looked at the clock, Sister and I were sitting in the Observation area, where they move you before moving you on, and it was 4pm.
How the f*ck did that happen? One minute I am in my comfy bed, minding my own business, and the next I am sitting in the Observation area wait for the transport to the rehab center.
Whoa!
I shoulda gotten the other half of that Oxy is what.
Oh and as it turns out, THANKFULLY, Grandpa did not break anything. Well, he is sure he broke his skinny ol'behind, but I say he was born with that crack in it...
We finally get to the rehab center. He looks like crap. I look like crap. We both sort of feel like crap, but he is on that Oxy high so I win the feel like crap contest.
But since he is the patient he gets cleaned up and tucked in by nurse Diane who we both now love completely because she is unbelievably nice and no bullsh*t. Not only that, but Gramps gets dinner delivered to his bed - a chicken sandwich, sherbert, puddings (two!), nasty soup, and some sort of protein in a can. I steal the peanut butter & jelly sandwich he doesn't want because frankly neither of us has eaten much and we are both famished.
By 7:45 I am DONE. But first Sister comes to get me and we both go back to Grandpa's apartment to get him some clothing and shoes and a book, oh and his Walkman. Because it turns out he can't do his physical therapy nekkid and shoeless. Rules, rules, rules! Geez, time to break a few if you ask me. We then schlepp the bag BACK to rehab before finally saying an official goodbye, so long sucka, to Gramps.
At this point I have this peculiar zombie like feeling and a certain sneaking feeling that this day did not in fact happen. Totally bizarro. Hospital-land time and regular-land time don't seem to be in sync at all. It was like being in a Seinfeld episode. I was up, I did stuff, things occurred, people talked, BUT NOTHING REALLY HAPPENED.
Weird!
I finally rolled in at 9pm and stole my housemates last Vanilla Coke Zero. I know she won't mind, but since this day didn't really even happen for me, maybe she'll never even know!
Oh and I would like to thank the following people for being so awesome and not letting this day suck: EMT's Benny and Stan, BWH nurse Melissa, Dr.'s Perkins, Wall, Katz, & Tan, Cataldo transport, SRH nurses Jamie and Diana, and mostly my Sister who knows EXACTLY what I mean when I say "ok, who flipped the turtle?", and Mom and Dad and Betsy. And also Anna and Brandon for being like "don't worry about it, we got it" because they totally do.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Locally made VW
I got this from the Evil Twin who was stuck behind them in traffic.
I don't know what it is, but I don't like bumperstickers anyway. They are rarely funny after the first laugh, and anyway most of the time they are sanctimonious bits of crap. Or worse, they are taped on. People who tape bumperstickers to their bumper with tape ought to have their car taken away from them for two weeks.
But I am willing to give them the benefit of the doubt that the above referenced vehicle was purchased secondhand. At least it wasn't a Prius.
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
Happy Early Mother's Day
Mom, if you are reading this, STOP reading right now. There is nothing here that you need to read.
Ok, so for Mother's Day I was hemming and hawing about what to get my mom. The woman has everything she needs in life and moah. And even though she loves to eat, there is no point to take her out because her favorite meal is homemade, at home, with the people she loves around her.
Hmmm, ok, she has everything and likes food and is generous and wants everyone to be happy.... what would be THE perfect gift?
A Kiva micro loan natch!
Yep, for $25 I made a micro loan to a woman named Ingrid who lives in South America on my mom's behalf. Ingrid has a restaurant and my Mom works for a restaurant, so I figured it was fate. Ingrid requested a loan from Kiva in order to purchase new tables, chair, and equipment to update her restaurant and had already paid back one Kiva loan to start her restaurant, plus she had a nice photo with a decent write-up.
Not only that, but Ingrid plans to repay the loan within the next 11 months, just in time for Mothers Day 2o10! The gift that keeps on coming back to be given again! Sweet!
If you are stuck on what to give YOUR mom this year, I highly recommend a micro-loan from Kiva. And be sure to pick the loan that gets repaid in time for next year's regifting. Er, I mean re-lending!
(Please note that I am not a financial planner of any kind whatsoever, and that as with any financial lending, risk is involved. So read the dang fine print please!)
Ok, so for Mother's Day I was hemming and hawing about what to get my mom. The woman has everything she needs in life and moah. And even though she loves to eat, there is no point to take her out because her favorite meal is homemade, at home, with the people she loves around her.
Hmmm, ok, she has everything and likes food and is generous and wants everyone to be happy.... what would be THE perfect gift?
A Kiva micro loan natch!
Yep, for $25 I made a micro loan to a woman named Ingrid who lives in South America on my mom's behalf. Ingrid has a restaurant and my Mom works for a restaurant, so I figured it was fate. Ingrid requested a loan from Kiva in order to purchase new tables, chair, and equipment to update her restaurant and had already paid back one Kiva loan to start her restaurant, plus she had a nice photo with a decent write-up.
Not only that, but Ingrid plans to repay the loan within the next 11 months, just in time for Mothers Day 2o10! The gift that keeps on coming back to be given again! Sweet!
If you are stuck on what to give YOUR mom this year, I highly recommend a micro-loan from Kiva. And be sure to pick the loan that gets repaid in time for next year's regifting. Er, I mean re-lending!
(Please note that I am not a financial planner of any kind whatsoever, and that as with any financial lending, risk is involved. So read the dang fine print please!)
Sunday, May 03, 2009
Wow, times ARE tough.
Because apparently this recession isn't just financial.
I heard three different radio ads this afternoon for supplements that are supposed to make dicks bigger. By the third one I was just plain laughing out loud. From the sounds of it there are thousands of teeny weenys out there clamouring for these supplements. So much so that they are rushing these supplements out the door to cover millions of advance orders. This is the claim anyway from the same guy who claimed that the reason he developed this amazing product was because he had lived with four women in college and all they ever talked about was how size matters.
Yeah, right, that's what women sit around talking about. Massive ginormous penises.
In pornos maybe.
Hmmmm although.... if they invent a supplement that could get a weiner to do laundry or windows, I would totally invest in that.
I heard three different radio ads this afternoon for supplements that are supposed to make dicks bigger. By the third one I was just plain laughing out loud. From the sounds of it there are thousands of teeny weenys out there clamouring for these supplements. So much so that they are rushing these supplements out the door to cover millions of advance orders. This is the claim anyway from the same guy who claimed that the reason he developed this amazing product was because he had lived with four women in college and all they ever talked about was how size matters.
Yeah, right, that's what women sit around talking about. Massive ginormous penises.
In pornos maybe.
Hmmmm although.... if they invent a supplement that could get a weiner to do laundry or windows, I would totally invest in that.
Saturday, May 02, 2009
If you can't say anything nice, then don't.
I don't want to talk about it but let me just say that the Commonwealth of Massachusetts needs to make sure that the highway engineers that they hire must be born and raised in Massachusetts, and like at least 2nd generation Masshole at that.
Engineers who are not from here think that somehow Mass drivers are going to magically change if given the chance to drive on an improved design.
That is not the case.
Once a Masshole, always a Masshole. Can't be helped.
Perfect example is the on-ramp to the Expressway at Neponset. A total clusterf*ck no matter when you try to get on it because somehow the lane is slightly wider than a single car.
Theoretically this should allow for a smooth, zipper-like, entry onto the highway. But no, in Massachusetts this is just enough of an opening for the Masshole driver to scoot around the car in front. Basically turning the lane into two lanes that are then trying to merge into one lane. Which makes for a massive clusterf*ck knot of traffic that usually backs up to the Granite Ave exit, sometimes down to practically East Milton Square even.
It's like this at the Mass Ave entrance to the Expressway also.
I get it that highway designers and engineers want to credit the drivers of Massachusetts with the abilty to evolve and improve on their driving skills, but it won't happen. Massholes never change, they just graduate to Lincoln Town Cars.
But, like I said, I don't want to talk about it.
Engineers who are not from here think that somehow Mass drivers are going to magically change if given the chance to drive on an improved design.
That is not the case.
Once a Masshole, always a Masshole. Can't be helped.
Perfect example is the on-ramp to the Expressway at Neponset. A total clusterf*ck no matter when you try to get on it because somehow the lane is slightly wider than a single car.
Theoretically this should allow for a smooth, zipper-like, entry onto the highway. But no, in Massachusetts this is just enough of an opening for the Masshole driver to scoot around the car in front. Basically turning the lane into two lanes that are then trying to merge into one lane. Which makes for a massive clusterf*ck knot of traffic that usually backs up to the Granite Ave exit, sometimes down to practically East Milton Square even.
It's like this at the Mass Ave entrance to the Expressway also.
I get it that highway designers and engineers want to credit the drivers of Massachusetts with the abilty to evolve and improve on their driving skills, but it won't happen. Massholes never change, they just graduate to Lincoln Town Cars.
But, like I said, I don't want to talk about it.
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