Why my knees are covered in cat sh*t.

I have a problem in my house.

For some reason I am really really good at ignoring hissing.

Yep. When something starts to hiss, I tune it right out.

Which is a big NO-NO when you are a homeowner. When something in the house starts to hiss, and I am not talking about a radiator hissing noises here, it means something has either just broken, or is starting to break.

It's like when your kid suddenly goes quiet and you ask what they are doing and they say "nothing!" and really they are very quietly coloring in their little sibling with a Sharpie, from head to toe.

The first time I ignored the hiss, it was the day after some holiday - Christmas or Thanksgiving. Rather than check out what was causing the hiss ( I don't have radiators. There is nothing in my house that should hiss when it is functioning properly) I turned the TV up.

Now, mind you, if I heard anything OTHER than a hiss, I am all over it. When I first moved here and the crackhouse next door was still in operation, I kept a baseball bat beside my bed. I wanted to keep a big huge gun beside my bed, but that's not as aesthetically pleasing really. Besides, a baseball bat fits the inner city cliche SO much better...

Anyway, so there I am ignoring the hissing coming from the basement. Until I go to do laundry and it turns out that the hissing is coming from the washing machine water feed.

And there is about an inch of water on the basement floor.

So what is the first thing I do? I call Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad.
FYI - My Dad is Superman. He can fix anything AND he knows everything. It ties in well with my Mom's ability to predict the weather and make a 10 course meal with just a can of chickpeas and an onion. They make quite a pair.

Dad comes over, gives me a basic overview of how plumbing works, helps me vacuum up the water (you can vacuum up water!?! extraordinary!) and sets everything back to rights in that calm and methodical way of his.

After one flooded basement, you'd think I've learned my lesson. But no.

Today it was 60-something degrees in Boston and raining. It flooded my backyard and turned everything to mush.

So I stayed in and fiddled around in the house. And tried to block out that faint hissing noise I started hearing when the rain stopped.

hiiissssssss, hissssssssss

Hmmmmm. Hard to hear over the music, but very faintly there.

Until I go outside to dump my peelings on the compost heap. Then the hissing is not so faint. And there is a lake at the bottom of my porch stairs.

Just as EvenSteven predicted it would, the garden hose burst. Because I "forgot" to crawl under the deck and turn off the water in the fall.

Crawling under the deck is something I hate doing. It's where the cats go to sh*t and where the creepy-crawlers go to mate. Blech!

However, this time there was no one to bribe into crawling under the deck and switching off the water so I had to do it myself. And I had to do it really fast, like pulling off a Band-Aid.

Which is why my knees now have cat poop and creepy-crawly carcass ground in them. Yuck.

See, this is why I ignore the hissing.

Nevermind the weather - Boston is not so bad...

Considering that I could be living in Kosovo, if I had been born to different parents and all.

I happened to randomly know a few people from the area. One of whom stayed with my folks for a time. She's a lovely girl, quite humorless and anti-American when she first arrived, but considering what she'd been through it was kind of understandable.

She told us of how she and her family were forced from their home by Serbs and given only a few hours to get out. She had to leave behind all her personal mementos and take only her diplomas and identification. I can't even imagine that. I doubt that I would have the presence of mind to have that kind of forward thinking as my world was falling apart around me.

When they were finally able to go back, there was a Serbian family living in their house. Most appalling was the fact that they were using all her and her family's personal items, from their clothes to their toothpaste!

This is like something you read happening during World War II, not in the past ten years.

Another time, while she was living here, one parent fell gravely ill and she had to fly home on short notice. Well at the time, since Kosovo didn't really exist, she had to go through all these Byzantine procedures to get her visas and flights approved. And then getting a flight to Pristina was a whole other nightmare, because really - how do you book travel to a country that doesn't exist, especially when you are traveling on a NATO passport.

So today as I was reading about Kosovo declaring independence, I thought of her. On the one hand I am excited for her, for her people. On the other hand, it seems like something awful and violent is coming down the pike.

It is a situation that I can the many sides of, but which I cannot understand.

Which makes me exceptionally grateful for my simple, cushy American life where the big national news is whether or not Obama ripped off Deval!

Audrey Ryan doesn't do 10,000 Maniacs

I went to see Audrey Ryan on Friday night and let me tell you, she is good. Really, really good.

Her MySpace page includes a quote describing her as a cross between Joni Mitchell and Radiohead.

I love her song "Later Alligator" - one of the most accurate songs about the high school experience I think I've ever heard.

Luckily for me, she politely played it twice because I missed it the first time.

Probably also because the only other person making requests was completely wasted and totally desperate and kept requesting 10,000 Maniacs and the Grateful Dead while dry-humping some guy's leg and sucking down Cape Codders. *sigh*

Anyhow anyone who plays the accordion as prettily as she does ought to be famous. Check out her song "People" - it gets in your head.

Be my lovely Valentine

If we all spent more time making love then I really think that life would improve considerably on so many levels.

It should be Valentines Day everyday.

Did you know that Valentimes Day is Thursday?

Every year my Mom gives me a nice little Valentine gift, so for me, Valentine's Day means that my Mommy lurves me!

And I like to spread the joy, so this year I've been making sugar cookies designed like those NECCO conversation hearts to give to my friends and co-workers. Because if you get 1000 Valentine's or just the one, at least it's better than none.

I've kept the sayings pretty generic - "Be Mine", "U R Nice", "Text Me"....

But a little Cupid sent me the following photo. Totally inappropriate, completely NSFW, and oh yeah, it came from Europe, where the c-word is used like we 'Mericans use the word "b*tch!".

You've been warned!

Honking only makes it worse later

I am sometimes a driver and sometimes a pedestrian. And I always think that both groups are a bunch of f*ckwits.

Everyone knows that drivers aim for pedestrians, while pedestrians intentionally stroll s-l-o-w-e-r in crosswalks. Whatever, it's life.

But jerkiness always catches up with you.

Today for example.

I was on Huntington Street - which, as a driver and occasionally as a pedestrian I HATE. I try to avoid being on it as much as I can. It's bumpy, poorly marked, and badly signed. And once I was walking down the far end and narrowly missed a torrent of vomit from an upper floor window. Yeah, as much as I can, I stay away.

Except for today. I got stuck in the wrong lane and had to drive down Huntington instead of cutting up and over Heath Street like I often do.

One reason I hate driving down Huntington is the trolleys. I am just no good at sharing the road with trolleys. I don't know why and I don't really care - I just don't like it.

So I am behind two cars and the trolley comes to a stop at an intersection where it's green light.

Which means the first driver has to stop even though it's a green light - trolley's are like the school bus, there is a little stop sign that is attached to the trolley door so when it opens, the trolley lights flash and there is this stop sign.

Now, to me that means that even though the light is green, us drivers have to stop so that the passengers can walk from the stop to the trolley without getting mowed down.

However if you are a Masshole driver it means laying on your horn and yelling out the window to the car in front of you "to what the f*ck a**hole? MOVE!" because you are too much of a tardo to see the stop sign on the trolley.

This guy is literally leaning out the window, screaming at the driver of the first car. I of course had my window cracked to hear every sweet word of invective this moron was letting loose.

And then had a good chuckle because just ahead of the first car, just past the intersection, was a cop car. And as we all started moving again, guess who was getting pulled over?

Yep, the screaming loony toon with the vocabulary of a drunken French sailor!

Because I am pretty sure road rage is a no-no.

Ha! Bad boys, bad boys, whatchoo gonna do....

Bad boys! bad boys! Whatchoo gonna do?

Whatchoo gonna do when they come for you!

My pal EvenSteven sent me the link to www.hulu.com and now I am hooked.

(Quick back story - when I was a kid, my parents told me that the TV was broken and could only tune in Sesame Street, Electric Company, and Zoom. When they found out that the babysitter could magically fix the TV and tune in General Hospital and The Price is Right, they told us that TV would rot our brains. Well, they were right about the brain and the rotting - although I prefer to blame booze, internet, and too much candy.)

Anyway, given my TV deprived background, I have spent much of my adult life catching up on all that I missed (Rosebud!) and now I can watch lots of it on Hulu.

So what is the first thing I tune in? Cops! That's right - bad boys, bad boys! And I have just finished watching five episodes in a row. Bad boys! Bad boys!

There is not one person who doesn't know that theme music. All you have to say is "bad boys bad boys" and I guarantee you someone around you will pipe up with "whatchoo gonna do?"

And everyone always pretends that Cops is so pedestrian and low brow and that they would never ever watch it, but I think that the biggest reason people secretly really do watch it is because EVERYONE likes to know that there are dumber people than them out there.

Because who hasn't had that awkward civilian-policeman moment? I know I've had one or two. Like the time that I was pulled over and the nice policeman said:

"Miss, do you know why I pulled you over?"

To which I nearly replied:

"Because I was doing 50 in a 20 mile per hour zone?"

Thankfully he interrupted me before I could and very helpfully informed me that one tail-lamp was out.

If my answer had been:

"Because I have a trunk full of guns, ammo, and 48 pounds of coke"

I feel that I would have definitely made it onto Cops. *sigh*

Bad boys! Bad Boys!

If you live in Roxbury and voted....

Can someone please tell me which Ward Committee won the election yesterday?

I had the option to vote for Group 1, 2 , or 3.

What the f*ck is wrong with me that I can't find this information online?

It's probably because I can't stop surfing the Dorchester Atheneum website. Argghhhh.

Another Internet Sink Hole

I totally fell right in to this Internet sink hole early today.

I have been clicking through the photos on the Dorchester Atheneum web site since like 5:30 this evening.

I have a headache.... *sigh* *click*click*

I mean who knew there had been a home for consumptives back in the day. Are there homes for consumptives any more? What is consumption anyway? Is it really just tuberculosis?

Ailments were much better named back in Olden Days. Does anyone get diagnosed with cerebrasthenia any more? What about diphtheria? How about dropsy?

Anyway, yeah, a Home for Consumptives in good old Dorchester.


Who'da thunk it!

Operator Error! MBTA Part 2

Ok so yesterday's post on using the MBTA Trip Planner found its way to Universal Hub where a couple of people pointed out that I was not being exactly specific enough, and that I should have noticed that the Trip Finder was actually sending me to Comm Ave in NEWTON. Duh!

Yes, I should have noticed that, my bad.

I do think that it would have been helpful for there to be some way to pick the Comm Ave I was looking for. When I look up an address on Google maps it spits out a couple of offerings that alert me to being more specific.

When I originally typed in my address, I put in my number and street name, forgetting the zip code. At that point I did get a drop down box asking which street I wanted. But when I picked the Roxbury option, the Planner still mapped from Newton - telling me to walk 23 minutes to Boston College station.

However, when I typed in "969 Commonwealth Ave" in the second box the Planner just defaulted to Newton.

I think that having to make multiple attempts at getting the starting point correct, I sort of spaced out on the destination.

Hey and I am from here. I should have known there were two 969 Comm Aves.

Welcome to Whatthef*ckachusetts

I KNOW I am not the first person to comment on the complete buffoonery of the MBTA, but fo'shizz until it happens to you, you really can't believe it.

So tonight I am heading to see Rhett Miller at the Paradise.

*sighhh* Rhett Miller, he's so dreamy...

Anyway, since I want to have a few beverages of the alcoholic variety I am leaving the Shampagne Supernova home (drinking & driving is wrong and avoidable!).

I live in the 'bury so I figure I will take the T.

My experience tells me to take the #1 down Mass Ave and pick up the B Line at Hynes.

However, according to the boneheads at the MBTA, from my door to the Paradise at first spat out an itinerary that would take 181 minutes. That's THREE HOURS in minutes!

Something was clearly amiss.

I re-typed in my whole address with the zip code and everything and another itinerary was generated. This involved taking a bus to the Boston Common area, then hopping on a Newton Express bus, and then catching some other bus from Watertown Yard, shaving off about 100 minutes, bringing the total travel time to 80 minutes.

What? So I moved the starting point to the nearest major intersection for me: Mass Ave & Tremont Street, hoping that MBTA.com would finally agree with me that the #1 to the Green Line was the best option.

But no. This time I was instructed to take the #1 to Harvard Station, then take another bus to Watertown Yard, and then some other bus.

I lost track because all I could see was that it was going to take 87 minutes. That's one hour and twenty-seven minutes for those of you who are bad at math. Seven more minutes that the 2nd trip!

And what the F*CK is with Watertown Yard? Does every trip have to go through there?

Not only that, but every variation of the trip cost $4.50.

My version should theoretically only cost about $1.70. But um that remains to be seen...

(click on the picture to see the nasty details)

Go Pats!

I cannot help myself - I love the "F" word almost as much as I love coffee and donuts.

The problem is that using the word is like singing or comedy. Using it requires appropriate pitch, tone, timing, whatever fancy musical term you like. And mostly it is funny when little tiny kids say it as their first word. Even if you don't admit it, it's funny.

Anyway, as it is I am neither chanteuse nor comedienne and when I drop the "F-bomb" people are f*cking offended.

So you are probably wondering what this post has to do with the Pats.

Well, Paul "Fitzy" Fitzgerald is my dirty ugly little secret. His potty mouth and ability to sustain a buuuuurrrpp is totally hot. Behold my hidden shame...

And my addiction to his profanity-laden pre-game commentary fuc*ing KILLS me.

So here you go. And remember it is Not Suitable For Work.
Because he says "fuck" like a lot.

CLICK HERE FOR THE FITZY FORECAST

Legalese: Keeping us in check since the olden times!

Ok so my favorite thing about the language of the law is that it was mostly written in the olden days. Like the 1676 days of yore.

When being accused of being common was criminal!

Like being charged with being a Common and Notorious Thief.

Not only is it a bad thing to be, but it sounds like a bad thing to be.

Or a Common Nightwalker. Which sounds like someone taking a casual evening stroll around Castle Island, but which really means prostitute, or those windshield washers at the Roxbury Tollbooth.


And what I don't get is why we kept the language but got rid of the stocks.

I think that if they put the stocks back on Boston Common, it would do a lot toward reducing crime.

Why I woke up wondering why it was snowing out.

I had no clue that the hatches had to be battened because the Vrai Pain Grille and Monsieur Marmalade are on holiday in Florida.

Getting toasted I imagine.

Resolution 2: Date more

2008 - Year of the Date

Let me just say that for about a year or so I was on a self-imposed dating hiatus. After a series of unfortunate love tangles and terrible dates, I decided to take myself out of the mix and date myself for a bit. I know from experience that I am a terrific date and I always say yes when I ask myself out!

However the hiatus is now over and I am ready to date.

January's been good so far, as it has been for my fellow blogger and dear friend The Blonde Bombshell.

She has been much better about her resolutions this year than me, I should follow her lead a little more proactively. She's been resolutely wading through the dating pool and blogging about her adventures over on Date in 08.

However I personally am a little nervous about the whole Match/Chemistry/EHarmony thing.

Online dating seems a lot like online grocery shopping to me: "Hey that cantaloupe looks delish! Nice and firm and juicy looking!" But then when Peapod actually delivers it, it turns out to be sort of smooshy and rotty and pulpy inside.

I like to meet people in person, squeeze the cantaloupe for myself, if you will.

Which is why I have been saying yes to almost every invite. Because who knows, one of these days I am going to meet my lobster!

That was easy!

I am now officially a Burlesque Queen of Boston!

Yes, it's twue! It's twue! I stripped off, or rather in burlesque speak, I revealed myself all the way down to my bra, knickers and garter.

In front of 13 other people.

Mind you they were all also scantily clad women, so it was far less intimidating than I thought.

And it turns out that everyone else out there - no matter their height, weight, or gym predilection - has something that jiggles, wobbles, or dimples. Everyone. No one is exempt from a jiggle, wobble, or dimple.

We learned how to bump (slam the car door with your hip!), grind (yeah, that kind!), and strut like, well, strut (slink even!) like the burlesque queens of yore.

Which make everyone, everyone, look really hot, no matter how self-conscious they are of the jiggle, wobble, or dimple. You can't help it, thigh highs & garters make everyone look good. Throw in heels and a slinky walk and ay carumba mama!

And most impressively (totally worth the class cost alone) we learned how to twirl our pastie tassels like pros! You can make them twirl one direction, twirl the other direction, and even twirl one in one direction while the other twirls in the opposite direction. A very cool trick for the repertoire.

You leave with a routine suitable even for people with two left feet, music, and your own set of pasties.

And in my case, an insatiable urge to buy a few oversize ostrich feather fans. You know, for later, when I take the next class....

OH CRAP!

I totally forgot about posting on my own garndog blog!!!

I knew I've been forgetting to do something these past few days! I tell you, my brain is turning into pudding.

Anyway, well, hopefully there are a few lovely readers still out there...

So what have I been doing all this time? Well for one thing I have been trying to get through all my Resolutions. They seem to get more onerous the longer they take to do.

Here's a sort of quick recap:

Resolution 1: Take a New Years Day Plunge into the ocean
(Didn't happen. Spent day in bed. Much more fun! Maybe next year.)

Resolution 2: Date more
(This is the fun one! Wanna go out? Email me! )

Resolution 3: Delete .38 Special from playlist
(Couldn't do it. So I hid it in my Cheap Trick album for a funny surprise later.)

Resolution 4: Do one thing off the Cheap Thrills list each week
(The logistics of this involve adding more time into the continuum. Won't happen this year.)

Resolution 5: Walk more
(Easy. I either walk to work, or get up at 6am and walk 3 miles. I love this part of my day.)

Resolution 6: Make more food from scratch
(Easy. Except for the part where I made a vanilla cake with chocolate frosting. Of course now I have to eat it. Ha - I can eat my cake and have it too! Nice!)

Resolution 7: Go to one show a month
(Easy. I already have shows booked for February and March.)

Resolution 8: Keep Shampagne Supernova running!
(Errrrr, ummmm, I still need to sort out some Bondo....)

Resolution 9: Swim under water without plugging my nose
(Whoo hoo done! I can't wait to try this out at in the ocean!)

Resolution 10: Get rid of my junk
(I got rid of a big chunk of it, including the old Raleigh bike I had lounging in my hallway for two years. I traded it with a lovely person from old old Craigslist for a gift card which might translate into new sheets to help with Resolution 2!)


So yeah, I've been a little busy. But really that is no excuse.

Maybe we can go out and I can buy you a drink to make up for it!

When French Toast & Vrai Pain Grille Agree

The French Toast Weather Alert System from Universal Hub is set to HIGH, so naturally I called the only weather person I trust: La Maman.

"Mom, I am going to the market, do you need anything" I say.

"Are you going to batten down zee 'atches?" she says, and I know she is smirking a little.

"Um, well do I need to?" I ask.

"Yes, I sink so. I brought my work 'ome wiz me on Friday. I sink it will be bad. But your granfahzaire zayz it will juz be rain" is her response.

Which tells me two things.

1) She has known about this "weather event" since Friday and only now tells me! The nerve!

and

2) It is going to SUCK. Unless of course Grandpa is right (which he is surprisingly often), in which case you should run out right now and buy an umbrella. Because it is always fun to panic about the weather.

Favorite news item of the week

From the Noo Yawk Times:

Corpse Wheeled to Check-Cashing Store Leads to 2 Arrests

There is no way to read this article without thinking "Weekend at Bernies"! A reference the author helpfully also includes.

I can't help it, this story made me laugh.

It reminds me that no matter how sophisticated and swank people think they are, there is always going to be a couple of buddies out there wheeling the dead one to the check cashing place for a few extra party dollars.

Nobody puts Babydoll in the corner!

Ahhhhh Boston, home of the Bean and the Cod....




and Scollay Square burlesque!

I thought it would be interesting to explore this intriguing chapter in Boston's fine old history.

So I signed up for the Boston Babydolls Instant Burlesque Queen class.

Because I ask you - who wouldn't want to prance about on stage with feathers and pasties?

Resolution #9 DONE!

The best part about banging out New Year's Resolutions in January is that then they are DONE and you can go on about your life.

Resolution #9 - swim under water without plugging my nose. For some reason I have never in my entire life ever been able to do this. I've had hundreds of people tell me how to do it, but for some reason I never quite got the hang of it. Plus I HATE anything going up my nose.

However today was the day. I was talking to my swim buddy and was explaining how I was trying to learn how to swim under the water without holding my nose. He looked at me like I was a big imbecile and said "Huh? What are you talking about? Just do it. Just go under."

Hmmmmmm. Really?

And guess what? That did it. I just went under. And it was totally fine.

And I didn't drown. So whoo hoo!

Now if someone asks me how to swim under the water without holding their nose, I am going to say "Just do it. And also, keep your mouth shut."

I can't wait to go back to the pool!

New Year's Resolution #10 - almost done

In an effort to bang through some of my Resolutions, I spent most of yesterday and almost all of today getting rid of my CRAP.

George Carlin was right to describe a house as a shelter for crap. I have been sheltering an island of crap for years now.

Thank the stars I have my dear neighbor/friend EvenStephen to help me out. I call him EvenStephen because he is probably the calmest, evenest, person I have ever met.

I also have to thank the stars for my Fairy Godfather who answered the panicked call. He came right over and performed a little triage on the profusion of junk that has been clogging up my life.

Out into the garbage went three massive big bags and two broken telly's. Two! Shameful! Then we made two trips to Goodwill. Bye bye all you ill-fitting clothes and too small coats! Bye bye impulse-purchase handbags and shoes I will never really wear!

Then finally we packed up the truck with the rest of the stuff to be sold at a tag sale. Or given away if someone really wants it.

Now my closet is practically empty. So is the basement. I feel like I lost weight.

Let me know if you need anything. I probably have it. Heck, I might have two of it.

New Year's Resolution #7 - done

I went to see Blade Runner last night at the Brattle Theater.

A few observations:

* Vangelis should be scoring more movies than James Horner

* Sean Young was a good looking woman before James Woods made her crazy.

* Having a flask with you at the theater helps keep the chill off your feet.

* The Brattle shows awesome movies and will probably be the only reason that I keep Resolution 7.

* I am in the "Deckard is a Replicant" camp. And in the "Harrison Ford is hot!" camp.

Bundle UP

I went outside by accident this morning and yep, it is still f*cking COLD out.

On the Brass Ball Scale it is about 26 Brass Balls out, however the wind chill drops it down to about 48 Brass Balls.

That sh*t is COLD!

Thanks to AdamG for the Brass Balls link!

Cold enough to make pissicles out!

Oh my holy frozen moly - it is COLD out. When did this happen? How come there is not a French Toast warning system for really frickin' COLD????

My neighbor calls it "pissicle" cold. Which means that when he goes and he pees outside, it makes a sort of icicle.

Yep, I surely do live in the CLASSY part of town. Um, rather the KLASSY part of town.

Happy New Year!

It's 2008! Whoo hoo!

I have to just say that I still haven't sorted out my New Year's Resolutions so much. I did come up with a couple more though

7. Go to one show a month. I don't go to enough live music, movies, or theater performances as I would like. If I at least go to one a month, that's twelve a year and that's about nine more than last year!

8. Keep the Shampagne Supernova on the road for 2008. I have been sort of lackadaisical about putting any care into the 240 because quite frankly I paid $650 for it, it's taken a beating, and it sort of looks like a Coors beer can that was crushed and then uncrushed and then given four wheels and a transmission. So it's been a tough car to love, especially after the Blue Bomber and the Satanmobile. But now that it hasn't crapped out on me, it's time to return the love, get a can of Bondo, and sort out the trim, and the steering is a bit wobbly...

9. Learn how to swim underwater without plugging my nose. I really don't know how and considering how much I love to be in the pool or in the ocean it seems like something I ought to know how to do.

10. Get rid of all my junk. Not the junk in the trunk, but the junk everywhere else. I have an absurd amount of junk in my house. It's going to kill me. So I need to kill it first.

One thing I will NOT be doing in 2008 is have a baby. Having a baby just for the heck of it seems to have been the theme of 2007. It sort of seemed like suddenly everyone in Hollywood sprouted the "bump". Jessica Alba, Jamie Lynn Spears, Christina Aguilera, Jennifer Lopez, Halle Berry, Lily Allen all let the nickel drop. Quite frankly I am surprised that Tara Reid, Paris Hilton, and Anna Nicole Smith aren't preggo too.

Oh wait, Anna Nicole died in 2007. Nevermind. And I really thought that Tom Cruise would have figured out how to get his own self pregnant by now.

I think that I would really rather just have a fabulous designer handbag. Although I am trying not to have so much stuff. But then again a handbag isn't so much "stuff" as it is "a necessary component of living, like food and oxygen".

And unlike a baby, you can store your fabulous designer handbag in the closet when you are bored with it.

It's that time again, that Auld Lang Syne time!

So Resolution time is rolling around again and it is time to start fine tuning my Resolutions for 2008.

A quick recap of 2007's Resolutions:

1. Recycle
2. Compost

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.

The Christmas Mop Up

I am sorry but there is no way I am going to be able to post anything even remotely of any interest to anyone until at least the weekend.

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.

Scarred for life

Thursday was our office Secret Santa swap.

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.

Oy.

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".

Blurg.

Dudley Square - Winter Morning Walk

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?"

Grrrrrrrrrrrr and a cookie

Ok, so the noisy next door neighbors having partying like it's 1999 ever since exams ended.

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.

There's French Toast and There's French Toast

Faithful readers of the 'rag will know that my mom is the original French Toast weather alert system.

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.

HOLY CRAP!

That was my immediate reaction when I saw my house tonight.

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.

HOLY CRAP!

A cookie for YOU!

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.

The Curious Case of Me versus Comcast

As some of you may know I have had some "back and forth" with Comcast. Who I usually refer to as Concrap.

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.

New Poll

And the results of the Spirit polls......

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.

Keep your bad taste to yourself jerk!

So today I noticed that some ding-dong "tagged" my house.

Twice.

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.

Merry Christmas Mrs. T

My next door neighbor has had a tough year.

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.

Seven days into December without a post?!?!?

It's because some demented Christmas elf vomited all over my house.

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!

Nothing like a hostage sitch on a slow news day......

So a guy walks into a campaign office with a couple of flares strapped to him....

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.

"Three staffers, a volunteer, and a small child were in the office when Eisenberg entered. Eisenberg immediately let the mother and child leave. The mother notified police. Two of the other hostages were released; the third escaped, authorities said.... Booth said the hostages had been communicating with the police during the standoff....

"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.

Why it's hard to be annoyed with the Booyah! neighbors

You may have read here about my neighbor sitch in previous posts.

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.....

*sigh*

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.

Just kidding.....

I am NOT a cougar. Not after Thursday nights episode of 30 Rock. No way jose.

Could he BE any more ambitious?

Ladies and gentlemen, I present the first ever Twins Separated at Birth post:

I tell you, I sort of really wish Chandler Bing was running for mayah.

This would NEVER happen in Boston

Some weeks ago I was in DC for the Marine Corps Marathon.

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!

It's tough time for Bruins fans.

They never get a scoreboard.

Patriot fans only have to wait until after October.

How I know I am from Boston, home of the bean and the cod

Because instead of reveling in Patriot wins, I am living in fear of their inevitable loss.

Oh shutcher sweet potato pie hole!

Seriously, the way that people are complaining about Bob's Southern Bistro closing, you'd think there wasn't anywhere else to find decent soul or southern food in the entire city of Boston.

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.

More for The List

As regular readers may know, I keep a running list of things I would not do. It's not too long, so that means that there are lots of things I will do.

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.

Random things I am thankful for.

My big list of things I am thankful for, in stream of consciousness order:

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.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Happy Birthday Evil Twin!

Being alone on this adventure would SUCK!!!!

Happy birthday to you.
Happy birthday to yooouuu.
Happy birthday dearest Eeeeeeeevil Twi-in.
Happy birthday to yooooouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!

Not that I am stickler or anything, but......

Seriously, what is with the low standards in spelling lately?

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.

Diemand Farm - best damn turkey!

I love Diemand Farm.

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.

Thanksgiving Comes First!!!

No one is allowed to mention the "C" or "X" word until well after the Turkey hangover wears off.

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!)

Not at my table thanks!

What do you think a "vegatable" is?

Naughty Noo Yawk Times!

New Poll, Please Vote

Look to the top right corner-ish and take the easy poll!

Vote now.

Turkey Shoot Weekend Approaches

This weekend is IT, whoo hoo
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....

I am so tired, I am not even funny.

Yeah, I took waaaaaaay too much allergy medication yesterday and was up last night with a racing heartbeat.

You know the one, the kind that goes:

buhbump
buhbump
buhbump
buhbump
buhbumpbuhbumpbuhbump
buhbump
buhbump
buhbump
buhbumpbuhbumpbuhbumpbuhbump


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.

Blurg.

BOOOOOOYAHHHHHHH

As you dear & loyal readers know by now - I am an island in a sea of students.

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.

Solving the head full of snot problem

For the past three weeks I have been suffering from a head full of snot.

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.

Whoo! Hoo!

No more a-choo!

Since the Storrow Drive Tunnel project fizzled out...

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.......

I'm 92. How are you?

That is now my Grandpa's new official greeting as of October 29th.

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.

The tribe has spoken.....

It's Lily von Schtoop and Barack Obama for President!

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

We ARE the Evil Empire Now Beyotch!

GO PATS!!!!!!

WAAAAHOOOOOO, NA NA NA NA, NA NA NA NA, HEY HEY HEY

GOODBYE!!!!!!!

Pats won, Colts lost.

Only a matter of time before Dungy wants to see the tape yo!

Undefeated. Whoah.

And the Sox won the World Series.
What the f*ck is going on around here.......

Weather.com - Hard to Trust the Forecast

Click on the picture to enlarge the image.

But yeah, that's a "Who will win the World Series" poll next to the current doppler radar.

So maybe they're wrong about Hurricane Noel too.

Hmmmmm......

The Mother of All Renovations

According to an article in the Bawstin Glob, the Harbor Towers are undergoing a major facelift.

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!

Uh oh - It's almost November.

And you know what that means.....

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!

Trick or Treat!

Halloween is an interesting contradiction for me.

Millions of strangers giving candy to kids...

But somehow that seems so, so wrong.

Well whatever.

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!

It started in CT

Ok ok.

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)



NSFW

PS: The link above has a much better sound sync thing going on.....

Online Content Editor Position Open at CNN

All I can say is that if I were a cheerleader getting "creamed" at a game by players, I would NOT want it headlined on CNN.

Seriously, this is online news content at CNN? Really?

Anna Nicole was a low they never fully recovered from.