On Friday, I had my first Animal Behavior exam. I have to admit that I could've pushed myself to study harder, but I got complacent and a little bit cocky and thought I wouldn't need it, plus I was cleaning like a fiend for the impending arrival of Jammy Jam. So on Thursday night I gave my book the finger and snuggled under the covers around 1am.
I woke up on Friday at 6:30, pretty much the second I have to be out of the house. I rushed a shower, threw on clothes and ran out the door. I sped to the T and studied all the way to Davis. Somehow I had the tremendous luck of arriving in Davis Square at 7:55, which is nothing short of amazing considering how slow the T normally is. I waited for the bus for a bit, then had to brave the frozen sidewalks.
I took the test in sharpie (seriously idiotic) and then read on the exam directions that any text outside the answer boxes would not be graded. Great, I thought, about half my exam is outside the box, but it was too late. This made me a bit frustrated, that and the fact that my professor refused to let anyone leave the room until all exams had been handed in in order to limit "disturbance.'' Ugh. I left sufficiently irritated. I started to walk to the bus stop and of course, the Tufts shuttle isn't there. So I walk to the MBTA bus stop. I wait til 9:40 and no bus. Having waited nearly 40 minutes the day before for a bus, I decided to just walk to Davis. I made it maybe 1/4 of the way there when I realized I only had one glove. Dammit, I thought. I weighed getting to work on time against the importance of the glove for a few seconds and decided I would walk as far at the bus stop and if I didn't find it, I'd go to work and abandon the missing glove forever.
Just as I spun around and started back up the sidewalk, I see out of the corner of my eye a strange motion. Then, as if in slow motion, I see a taxi turn awkwardly, cross the double yellow line and whale a small black pick-up truck. There was no sound - no brakes screeching, no skidding, just the horrible sound of two large glass and metal objects hitting each other. I stood frozen to the sidewalk for a few seconds, my mouth hanging open, ipod blasting in my ears. Holy crap! Two students were right next to the scene when it happened, and I expected them to help. No. They shrugged and walked away. This was so horrifying to me! What if people were hurt!! No one passing by in cars pulled over either. This made me so angry. Not that I have any first aid experience beyond what I learned in lifeguard training, I do know what it's like to be in a car accident and be scared, so I figured at the very least I could call 911 and reassure the people that help was on the way. As I reached the scene, I noticed a spiderweb crack in the windshield in front of the driver. Sh*t, I thought, the driver hit his head. The driver leaped out of the seat and practically ran into traffic saying "he hit us!!" I approached him. "Sir?" I said "Did you hit your head just now?" "No!" he cried, feeling his head, "Am I bleeding, am I hurt??" "No," I said, trying to be as calm as possible, "but I am concerned about the crack in your windshield. Usually a crack like that means you hit your head on it." "Don't worry about me just help my wife!" Um, where would she be? I wondered. I approached the truck. Slumped over in the passenger's seat, eyes closed, was this man's wife. I swear to you, I sent three wishes to the heavens above when I saw her: please be conscious, breathing and NOT bleeding. "Ma'am, can you hear me?" I asked. "Yes" she answered fairly calmly. Score. Breathing and conscious, check. "What hurts?" "My ribs hurt so bad." "Are you bleeding?" "No." Score again. My mind races. Ribs - could be broken, could puncture a lung. Could also be her side hurting from a ruptured spleen. And a whole bunch of other crap that I have no idea about. Survey says: don't move, no matter what. "Ok, I'm gonna ask you to do me a huge favor," I say, "you absolutely can't move, unless you think that you can breathe better in a different position. You just need to hang on for a few minutes." "Ok" she says. Eeek. A woman driving by casually asks if she should call 911. OH MY GOD WHAT DO YOU THINK??? "Yes, please" I say. "Do you need an ambulance." Now I'm getting annoyed. "YES" I yell at her "A woman is HURT." Meanwhile her husband is saying to me "why'd he hit us, he just came out of nowhere. why did this happen, is she ok? why?" I am uselessly patting his wife's arm saying 'you're doing great, hang in, just a few more minutes' while simultaneously telling this man, who I'm sure has hit his head and is hurt a lot more than he realizes that I saw everything, that I'm staying with him until the police arrive and that his wife is doing great. I turned off his truck because it was running ragged and I'm sure the vibration wasn't too great for his wife. She eased her seat belt off too. "See?" I said to the husband "your wife had her seat belt on. That is the most important thing here, that is the best case scenario." I realized that I was slightly talking out of my ass, but hey, if he felt better, that's most important. Finally the Tufts Campus Police arrive. Hooray! I thought, someone with training! HA yeah right. The officer sticks his head in the car "Ma'am, where's it hurt?" "My ribs!" she says. "Yeah ok, um hang in there." He looks at me "stay with her, ok?" Um HI, you're a police officer (Tufts has bona fide police officers, not fake cops) don't leave me alone with injured woman. It turns out he had to deal with the taxi driver, who was of course, denying everything. Finally EMS arrived and started working on the crash lady, whose name was, of all things, Elvira. I gave the Tufts police my business card and patted husband on the back and told him his wife would be ok. "God bless you, thank you so much, oh God bless you, I love you" he said. Awwrr, poor guy. I walked on my way, back down the icy sidewalk to Davis.
Once at work I got back into platelet donation. It kicks the crap out of me when I do it, but I have a high platelet count, and so many of the patients I deal with need platelets. It's my way of helping them out, since I'm not a doctor or nurse directly involved in their care. I got to watch the Discovery Channel for almost 2 hours so it was worth it. Then because I was full of self-pity for the insane day I had had, I walked up to "Nail Spa by Time" (don't ask cause I don't get it either) where I had a much-needed pedicure. The girl who did my feet went all out because I waited for nearly 45 minutes and she felt bad. I tipped her well because I realized that I had been a jerk while waiting and had given people evil looks. Before I left she oiled my feet and wrapped them in plastic bags, then helped me put on my socks and sneakers. Awesome.
I called up Rachela and asked her if she wanted to meet for drinks cause Jam's bus was delayed. We agreed to meet in Copley, and after wandering for a few minutes, we decided to head to Stuart Street because there are several drinking options there. We settled on a Chinese food restaurant Jam and I had drinks in once before. It's a cozy little spot with a nice bar upstairs. A very swanky-looking crowd was finishing up dinner when we arrived, and I think my tipsy and loud voice kind of drove them out because I was getting the evil eye from one of the guys. OH WELL. After a round Rach and I were sufficiently warmed up, and then of course I pressured her into another round. By then, we were feeling really happy. We bundled up and took off, much to the sadness of the bartender, whom I think we were entertaining, about 5 minutes after Jam texted that he was in Boston - eek! We were hunched over like old ladies walking down Tremont to Park, laughing like hyenas the entire time. As we went up the escalator at South Station, our general noise and ridiculousness caught Jam's attention and he watched us, horrified, as we giggled up the escalator. We talked him into venturing out into the city for some food and ended up back at Stuart and Tremont for a quick bite at Bennigan's. I hadn't been there since about the 8th grade - good lord was it delicious. It's not anything THAT special, but it was perfect for us. After seeing Rachel off, Jam and I returned home and passed out. Lovely.
The rest of the weekend flew by. There was some excellent parallel parking practice. We visited Amy, who's house sitting a few towns away. Jam drove and did an excellent job of it. We made homemade pizzas, watched National Geographic's "In the Womb: Multiples" and "Ugly Betty" on TiVo, then headed out to catch "Norbit" which I found hilariously funny. "How YOU doin?" Heh. A sad attempt was made to watch "Diary of a Mad Black Woman" but I fell fast asleep. Sunday was quiet - we went to see "Babel" which I thought was freakin' brilliant, and Jamaal drove a lot once again. I told my coworkers that I made him drive me to Whole Foods, and Laura said that that was about the cruelest thing I could've done because the parking lot is INSANE. Tee hee, well he needs experience in all of life's situations, and he did well there :) My mother made a turkey dinner which was amazing, and I made dessert, and I will absolutely pat myself on the back for it, the apple crisp was delicious.
On Monday I had to bring Jam to the bus (sadness!!) but we managed to get him there early for a change, so I was glad that he wouldn't be rolling in at midnight or some other ungodly hour. I then went home and attempted to start sewing about 1, 582 times but was interrupted. At 4pm I started piecing a quilt for my friend's birthday (it's in 2 weeks. aaand I don't think she reads this blog. Ek, I hope not at least!!!) I finished all the blocks at 10 and was so pleased. I then laid them out and thought they were rather fugly. I'm stuck though. I'm not going to remake the quilt, I don't have time, as I have a Conservation Bio exam I have to dedicate the next 8 days to study-wise. See it's super fugly in pictures (to come, I promise) but maybe not so bad in person? I can only hope. ek.
Today I'm so tired and cranky. I admit it. Quilting last night f*cked up my wrist something awful, and now I have quilting class tonight. Errrr. Guess I'll just have to deal with it. I keep cracking it, which is probably bad, but it feels totally frozen. Damn sewing addiction!
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Bus-ing it
After a few expensive trips to New York City I quickly learned that, despite the cramped seats and jungle-like heat, Peter Pan Bus was the way to travel.
My father calls it traveling with "the great unwashed;" while he absolutely has a valid point, so valid that I have in fact, sat next to people who I believed had not washed in a while, I don't have the flair for traveling the expensive route for cheap like he does. He is the man who gets upgrades to first class for free, or has (through proper and legal and ethical routes) convinced the police helicopter to assist him in official state business avoiding hours long ferry rides. I have no such flair, but upon his urging, I tried alternate ways of traveling. First I tried the Acela. Sure, it was fairly luxurious and clean and quiet, but it was also $86 each way, and that was at an off peak and therefore inconvenient time, before the gas crisis and with my AAA discount. It cut nearly an hour off the trip to NYC, but the money was just excessive, especially given the fact that Jam and I were living high (not on drugs, people) in those first few months of courtship. Next I turned to the regular old Regional Service, still expensive, but around $100 round trip and slightly more manageable-feeling. The train was cramped and filled with people pretending to have money when really they didn't necessarily have money, they just didn't want to be seen on the bus. Seriously, the airfare on JetBlue is less than the peak ticket price of the Regional Service. I had bitchy women on laptops and cell phones city next to me. In the Quiet Car, which I tried once in an attempt to escape the dozens of collegiate beauty queens on their cell phones on their way to NYU and Columbia to visit their boyfriends, the businessmen reading their Times and Globes would glare at you over their newspapers every time you shifted, opened a food wrapper, or zipped your purse. I found the Regional Service equally as irritating as the few times I had braved the bus.
What finally turned me off hideous Amtrak were the DELAYS. Good sweet Jesus, the delays were unreal. Jam and I wasted many an hour or two or three sitting on the floor of Grand Central hoping that maybe, just maybe, the train would roll in a little early from DC, but no, it never happened. I actually can't remember ever leaving NYC for Boston on time. Even when we did, there always seemed to be an obstacle. One time as we were pulling into the 128 Station, where my sister was waiting, a huge lightning storm moved over the area and struck the station and tracks. Of course, the train lost power and was stranded on the tracks about 20 feet from the platform for nearly an hour. The final straw may have occurred last summer, when I stupidly thought it would be fun to spend some extra time with Jam and catch the 3:15AM Regional Service back home - I'd roll into Boston at 7:30am and still be on time for work. Getting out of bed was hideous, but not nearly as hideous as the garrulous man in front of me who had a comment for every single thing he saw outside the window. I really wanted to kill him when he said to his sons "BOYS. BOYS. LOOKIT. LOOKIT. Connecticut's right outside our window. Doesn't it look like a big green jungle??!!" "SHUTTUP DAD" they replied. After that he did shut up, but then he proceeded to snore. Hours later, I awoke to the melodious sound of a screaming conductor "GET UP GET UP GET UP!!!" She screamed, walking down the aisles and slamming the backs of the seats with her arms. "We're pulling into Providence. We're a commuter train now, all the seats will be FULL so GET UP!" Wow.
There were certain benefits to switching to the bus. For the most part, Peter Pan adheres to a reliable schedule, and if there is a back up or delays, another bus is sent to deal with the backlog of passengers. I've never been on a bus that's been seriously delayed due to weather. Granted I haven't exactly been on the bus in the midst of a blizzard, but I've travelled to NYC during a serious morning snowstorm in Boston, rain, thunder, lightning, hail and everything in between. Also, the bus generally takes just as long as the Regional Service, and sometimes it's even faster! I have sat on a bus for nearly 6 hours before, which is misery, but when you consider the hours I spent on the floor at Grand Central it's all equal.
What the bus does offer is confined space with 54 other passengers and an opportunity to overhear conversations. Most of them are incredibly dull and even stupid, but a few are real gems. Once I had an old lady tell me her entire life's history, and it was rather colorful. Then there was an entire family - I still don't know what nationality they were. Well, ok, they were Americans, but not all born here. There were 3 generations of them on their way to Georgia to visit family, a mother, her married daughter and her husband and their baby, and two grown sons. The baby fussed the entire way down and the grandmother narrated the crying "ooww mommy!!!" she'd cry "ohhh mommmmy give me some meeeeelk! Ohhhh I am soo hungry! Ohhh but you don't want me to get tooo fat, no???!! Ohhh but feeed me!" As if this wasn't enough her oldest son kept interjecting "lookit the pra-jects. Yeah. That's what NYC is all about, tha prah-jects. Yeah, look at them project boys on the cornah" I cringed. True we were in Harlem, true we were near projects, but seriously, is that necessary?? We go by a movie set. "oooohh maybe they are making a movie with someone famous!" says Granny. "Yeah, a prah-ject movie" says son. I turn to the boy next to me who had been fastidiously studying his LSAT book. He looks at me and shakes his head. "If I die and wake up in hell, I'll know I'll be there because I'll be on this bus. This is my hell" I say to him, but we both laughed.
One of the most special bus occurrences happened over New Year's Weekend. I left work early so I could spend the afternoon in Manhattan with Jamaal. In line I noticed a mother daughter pink duo. Both were dressed in head to toe pink, the one difference being that the mother actually had pink shoes, while the daughter was rocking some white Uggs. Daughter had bleached platinum hair with visible roots, a ton of makeup, including dark lip liner, a Tiffany's heart silver chain, a pink velvet bebe lounging suit, skin tight, and the aforementioned white Uggs. She looked like a beast. I mean, she was a pretty girl, but you would've had to strip about 8 layers of makeup off of her to see that. Her cell phone was literally glued to her ear, and remained there for almost the entire 4 hour trip. Just as we are approaching the Bronx and I am starting to feel the glimmer of hope that it's only a matter a hour or so before I get off the bus, the driver veers to the right to take the GW Bridge. This is a common Manhattan-evading tactic practiced by Peter Pan drivers and it annoys me no end. The GW is crossed, Manhattan is paralleled as we drive south down New Jersey, and then we cut back through the Lincoln Tunnel. I swear this saves absolutely no time. The GW and the tunnel are always crowded. The only nice thing is the pleasing view that you see when you are going into the Lincoln Tunnel - you look right across the river into Manhattan, and I think it's my favorite view of New York, much like my favorite view of Boston is actually from the harbor - everything is so sparkling and clean from there. Anyways, we start to cross the GW and I hear bebe lounge suit go "Oh my God. oh my God. Why are we going this way?? Um Hi? Hello? Can anyone help me?" Everyone just does what they've been doing for the whole trip - we ignore her. She dials her phone "Mom? MOOOMM?? It's me, yeah hi, why did I just go by a sign that says "Welcome to New Jersey?? No I don't know! No I asked but no one answered." She starts again "Excuuuuuse me? Driver? People? Hi Why are we in New Jersey?" I get irritated and whip around and say "this is the way we go. We cross the GW Bridge to avoid the Bronx and Manhattan. Then we parallel Manhattan as we cut through Jersey, then shoot back through the Lincoln Tunnel and we're literally right at Port Authority." I could tell I was moving to fast for her. "Um Ok. But do we stop and drop off people in New Jersey." "No" I say to her, staring at her vacant eyes. She gets back on the phone "So we're totally lost" she says. Ugh. When we finally get to the Lincoln Tunnel entrance, there's a ton of traffic, of course. We roll along the ramp and get high enough to see Manhattan. As I am enjoying the view, blondie dials her phone. "Brian" she shrieks "Oh My GOD I am so lost on the bus!! Yeah. I can see New York, yeah, but it's so far away. I dunno, like wicked wicked far. BRIAN! I am looking at New York from ACROSS THE OCEAN!!!!" Finally an older man turns around "Honey, that's the Hudson, we're about a mile as the crow flies from Manhattan and you'll be at Port Authority in about 8 minutes." "Oh my God," she says "I must be like, mildly retarded or something." Heh, you're telling me.
Last weekend I was pleased to board the bus in Boston and find it fairly empty. I even had a seat to myself. The bus driver was jolly and joked with the passengers. When the woman in front of me copped an attitude about us being 15 minutes late leaving the terminal he said "see if you got your little attitude going on when I get you to the city on time." She sniffed indignantly but didn't reply. Heh. We even took a pee break at McDonald's! After 50 pit stops at shady Roy Roger's I wanted to jump on the bus driver for taking us to McDonald's. He even talked to the kid who gave the McDonald's manager attitude. "You gotta chill, man" he said when we got back on the bus. I settled down happily with my Animal Behavior book and snack wrap and we made decent progress towards the city, free of traffic. We sped down 2nd Ave, a new view for me, and cut through the park. As we were making our way through the park the bus driver said "um I think something is wrong with the bus. I might have to stop." No biggie I thought, we're about 14 blocks from Port. "Get your coats on, just in case" he says. We make nearly to the end of the park when I notice that there is smoke coming from either side of the bus. Then there is that lovely burning smell, which I recognized from all the times the MBTA trains have caught on fire. The bus lurches onto 66th and the driver runs out with a fire extinguisher. Attitude in front of me catches my eye and shakes her head. "Wow" I said, "Not what I really wanted to see." "Get off the bus!" the bus driver shouts at us. "Get your stuff and get off this bus and stand on the sidewalk towards the front of the bus. Get away from the vehicle!!!!!" People are not frantic, which is good, but they're not exactly moving either. Then a woman in the very back pipes up "People, the bus is on fire and I'm in the back and there's a gas tank back here and if the fire is big enough and hot enough it could blow up and I'll be the first to die." Because I am evil I thought 'I'd prefer you being the first to go' then felt like a bad person. I wasn't too worried because 1. the driver thought he could handle the fire with an extinguisher and 2. if full out fire was imminent, we would've been bailing out the windows and 3. the gas tanks and engine aren't THAT close to each other. She kept complaining though and this hurried people along.
As soon as we were assembled on the sidewalk people started in on the bus driver: "where are we? how long will it be til we get to Port Authority? Can you give me my bag? What's happening?" The poor guy is on the phone with Port trying to figure out whether or not it's safe to get back on the bus or should people wait for a new bus or what. The a##hole kid who made such a big scene in McDonald's talks to two skinny blondes who were on the bus together: "the whole trip has been f*cking ridiculous, absof*ckinglutely ridiculous." I wanted to say "what has been ridiculous about it, exactly? The fact that someone sat next to you and that pissed you off? The fact that McDonald's didn't give you the right order because you ordered while talking on your cell phone? The fact that the bus driver told you to chill because you were an embarrassment to him and every other passenger on the bus when you made a scene at the rest stop? The fact that he told you you made too much noise on your phone, or the fact the bus caught on fire and the driver is trying to handle a situation, that's totally out of his control, in a manner that would most convenience you?" Of course I didn't, cause he was obviously a confrontational person who would just start freaking out at you if you dared say anything. So I just stood on the sidewalk listening to everyone bitch. Finally, the skinny blondes became so obnoxious about demanding their luggage that the bus driver whipped open the cargo holds and said "TAKE YOUR BAGGAGE AND LEAVE I DON'T EVEN CARE!!!!!!!" Heh. So everyone made like a vulture at a lion kill and swooped in to grab their luggage. The blondes and the ahole guy got their suitcases. I expected them to march towards the nearest subway station or hail a taxi. Instead, they stood helplessly on the street corner and said "so, um, like, where are we?" HA!
I called Jamaal and he said "the nearest subway stop is 66th and Broadway. Take the 1 to 34th." "Awesome." I think the three morons were probably still traipsing through the city when I arrived in the lobby of Jam's office not 15 minutes later. Sigh. Some people. They do make for a good story though, don't they??!
My father calls it traveling with "the great unwashed;" while he absolutely has a valid point, so valid that I have in fact, sat next to people who I believed had not washed in a while, I don't have the flair for traveling the expensive route for cheap like he does. He is the man who gets upgrades to first class for free, or has (through proper and legal and ethical routes) convinced the police helicopter to assist him in official state business avoiding hours long ferry rides. I have no such flair, but upon his urging, I tried alternate ways of traveling. First I tried the Acela. Sure, it was fairly luxurious and clean and quiet, but it was also $86 each way, and that was at an off peak and therefore inconvenient time, before the gas crisis and with my AAA discount. It cut nearly an hour off the trip to NYC, but the money was just excessive, especially given the fact that Jam and I were living high (not on drugs, people) in those first few months of courtship. Next I turned to the regular old Regional Service, still expensive, but around $100 round trip and slightly more manageable-feeling. The train was cramped and filled with people pretending to have money when really they didn't necessarily have money, they just didn't want to be seen on the bus. Seriously, the airfare on JetBlue is less than the peak ticket price of the Regional Service. I had bitchy women on laptops and cell phones city next to me. In the Quiet Car, which I tried once in an attempt to escape the dozens of collegiate beauty queens on their cell phones on their way to NYU and Columbia to visit their boyfriends, the businessmen reading their Times and Globes would glare at you over their newspapers every time you shifted, opened a food wrapper, or zipped your purse. I found the Regional Service equally as irritating as the few times I had braved the bus.
What finally turned me off hideous Amtrak were the DELAYS. Good sweet Jesus, the delays were unreal. Jam and I wasted many an hour or two or three sitting on the floor of Grand Central hoping that maybe, just maybe, the train would roll in a little early from DC, but no, it never happened. I actually can't remember ever leaving NYC for Boston on time. Even when we did, there always seemed to be an obstacle. One time as we were pulling into the 128 Station, where my sister was waiting, a huge lightning storm moved over the area and struck the station and tracks. Of course, the train lost power and was stranded on the tracks about 20 feet from the platform for nearly an hour. The final straw may have occurred last summer, when I stupidly thought it would be fun to spend some extra time with Jam and catch the 3:15AM Regional Service back home - I'd roll into Boston at 7:30am and still be on time for work. Getting out of bed was hideous, but not nearly as hideous as the garrulous man in front of me who had a comment for every single thing he saw outside the window. I really wanted to kill him when he said to his sons "BOYS. BOYS. LOOKIT. LOOKIT. Connecticut's right outside our window. Doesn't it look like a big green jungle??!!" "SHUTTUP DAD" they replied. After that he did shut up, but then he proceeded to snore. Hours later, I awoke to the melodious sound of a screaming conductor "GET UP GET UP GET UP!!!" She screamed, walking down the aisles and slamming the backs of the seats with her arms. "We're pulling into Providence. We're a commuter train now, all the seats will be FULL so GET UP!" Wow.
There were certain benefits to switching to the bus. For the most part, Peter Pan adheres to a reliable schedule, and if there is a back up or delays, another bus is sent to deal with the backlog of passengers. I've never been on a bus that's been seriously delayed due to weather. Granted I haven't exactly been on the bus in the midst of a blizzard, but I've travelled to NYC during a serious morning snowstorm in Boston, rain, thunder, lightning, hail and everything in between. Also, the bus generally takes just as long as the Regional Service, and sometimes it's even faster! I have sat on a bus for nearly 6 hours before, which is misery, but when you consider the hours I spent on the floor at Grand Central it's all equal.
What the bus does offer is confined space with 54 other passengers and an opportunity to overhear conversations. Most of them are incredibly dull and even stupid, but a few are real gems. Once I had an old lady tell me her entire life's history, and it was rather colorful. Then there was an entire family - I still don't know what nationality they were. Well, ok, they were Americans, but not all born here. There were 3 generations of them on their way to Georgia to visit family, a mother, her married daughter and her husband and their baby, and two grown sons. The baby fussed the entire way down and the grandmother narrated the crying "ooww mommy!!!" she'd cry "ohhh mommmmy give me some meeeeelk! Ohhhh I am soo hungry! Ohhh but you don't want me to get tooo fat, no???!! Ohhh but feeed me!" As if this wasn't enough her oldest son kept interjecting "lookit the pra-jects. Yeah. That's what NYC is all about, tha prah-jects. Yeah, look at them project boys on the cornah" I cringed. True we were in Harlem, true we were near projects, but seriously, is that necessary?? We go by a movie set. "oooohh maybe they are making a movie with someone famous!" says Granny. "Yeah, a prah-ject movie" says son. I turn to the boy next to me who had been fastidiously studying his LSAT book. He looks at me and shakes his head. "If I die and wake up in hell, I'll know I'll be there because I'll be on this bus. This is my hell" I say to him, but we both laughed.
One of the most special bus occurrences happened over New Year's Weekend. I left work early so I could spend the afternoon in Manhattan with Jamaal. In line I noticed a mother daughter pink duo. Both were dressed in head to toe pink, the one difference being that the mother actually had pink shoes, while the daughter was rocking some white Uggs. Daughter had bleached platinum hair with visible roots, a ton of makeup, including dark lip liner, a Tiffany's heart silver chain, a pink velvet bebe lounging suit, skin tight, and the aforementioned white Uggs. She looked like a beast. I mean, she was a pretty girl, but you would've had to strip about 8 layers of makeup off of her to see that. Her cell phone was literally glued to her ear, and remained there for almost the entire 4 hour trip. Just as we are approaching the Bronx and I am starting to feel the glimmer of hope that it's only a matter a hour or so before I get off the bus, the driver veers to the right to take the GW Bridge. This is a common Manhattan-evading tactic practiced by Peter Pan drivers and it annoys me no end. The GW is crossed, Manhattan is paralleled as we drive south down New Jersey, and then we cut back through the Lincoln Tunnel. I swear this saves absolutely no time. The GW and the tunnel are always crowded. The only nice thing is the pleasing view that you see when you are going into the Lincoln Tunnel - you look right across the river into Manhattan, and I think it's my favorite view of New York, much like my favorite view of Boston is actually from the harbor - everything is so sparkling and clean from there. Anyways, we start to cross the GW and I hear bebe lounge suit go "Oh my God. oh my God. Why are we going this way?? Um Hi? Hello? Can anyone help me?" Everyone just does what they've been doing for the whole trip - we ignore her. She dials her phone "Mom? MOOOMM?? It's me, yeah hi, why did I just go by a sign that says "Welcome to New Jersey?? No I don't know! No I asked but no one answered." She starts again "Excuuuuuse me? Driver? People? Hi Why are we in New Jersey?" I get irritated and whip around and say "this is the way we go. We cross the GW Bridge to avoid the Bronx and Manhattan. Then we parallel Manhattan as we cut through Jersey, then shoot back through the Lincoln Tunnel and we're literally right at Port Authority." I could tell I was moving to fast for her. "Um Ok. But do we stop and drop off people in New Jersey." "No" I say to her, staring at her vacant eyes. She gets back on the phone "So we're totally lost" she says. Ugh. When we finally get to the Lincoln Tunnel entrance, there's a ton of traffic, of course. We roll along the ramp and get high enough to see Manhattan. As I am enjoying the view, blondie dials her phone. "Brian" she shrieks "Oh My GOD I am so lost on the bus!! Yeah. I can see New York, yeah, but it's so far away. I dunno, like wicked wicked far. BRIAN! I am looking at New York from ACROSS THE OCEAN!!!!" Finally an older man turns around "Honey, that's the Hudson, we're about a mile as the crow flies from Manhattan and you'll be at Port Authority in about 8 minutes." "Oh my God," she says "I must be like, mildly retarded or something." Heh, you're telling me.
Last weekend I was pleased to board the bus in Boston and find it fairly empty. I even had a seat to myself. The bus driver was jolly and joked with the passengers. When the woman in front of me copped an attitude about us being 15 minutes late leaving the terminal he said "see if you got your little attitude going on when I get you to the city on time." She sniffed indignantly but didn't reply. Heh. We even took a pee break at McDonald's! After 50 pit stops at shady Roy Roger's I wanted to jump on the bus driver for taking us to McDonald's. He even talked to the kid who gave the McDonald's manager attitude. "You gotta chill, man" he said when we got back on the bus. I settled down happily with my Animal Behavior book and snack wrap and we made decent progress towards the city, free of traffic. We sped down 2nd Ave, a new view for me, and cut through the park. As we were making our way through the park the bus driver said "um I think something is wrong with the bus. I might have to stop." No biggie I thought, we're about 14 blocks from Port. "Get your coats on, just in case" he says. We make nearly to the end of the park when I notice that there is smoke coming from either side of the bus. Then there is that lovely burning smell, which I recognized from all the times the MBTA trains have caught on fire. The bus lurches onto 66th and the driver runs out with a fire extinguisher. Attitude in front of me catches my eye and shakes her head. "Wow" I said, "Not what I really wanted to see." "Get off the bus!" the bus driver shouts at us. "Get your stuff and get off this bus and stand on the sidewalk towards the front of the bus. Get away from the vehicle!!!!!" People are not frantic, which is good, but they're not exactly moving either. Then a woman in the very back pipes up "People, the bus is on fire and I'm in the back and there's a gas tank back here and if the fire is big enough and hot enough it could blow up and I'll be the first to die." Because I am evil I thought 'I'd prefer you being the first to go' then felt like a bad person. I wasn't too worried because 1. the driver thought he could handle the fire with an extinguisher and 2. if full out fire was imminent, we would've been bailing out the windows and 3. the gas tanks and engine aren't THAT close to each other. She kept complaining though and this hurried people along.
As soon as we were assembled on the sidewalk people started in on the bus driver: "where are we? how long will it be til we get to Port Authority? Can you give me my bag? What's happening?" The poor guy is on the phone with Port trying to figure out whether or not it's safe to get back on the bus or should people wait for a new bus or what. The a##hole kid who made such a big scene in McDonald's talks to two skinny blondes who were on the bus together: "the whole trip has been f*cking ridiculous, absof*ckinglutely ridiculous." I wanted to say "what has been ridiculous about it, exactly? The fact that someone sat next to you and that pissed you off? The fact that McDonald's didn't give you the right order because you ordered while talking on your cell phone? The fact that the bus driver told you to chill because you were an embarrassment to him and every other passenger on the bus when you made a scene at the rest stop? The fact that he told you you made too much noise on your phone, or the fact the bus caught on fire and the driver is trying to handle a situation, that's totally out of his control, in a manner that would most convenience you?" Of course I didn't, cause he was obviously a confrontational person who would just start freaking out at you if you dared say anything. So I just stood on the sidewalk listening to everyone bitch. Finally, the skinny blondes became so obnoxious about demanding their luggage that the bus driver whipped open the cargo holds and said "TAKE YOUR BAGGAGE AND LEAVE I DON'T EVEN CARE!!!!!!!" Heh. So everyone made like a vulture at a lion kill and swooped in to grab their luggage. The blondes and the ahole guy got their suitcases. I expected them to march towards the nearest subway station or hail a taxi. Instead, they stood helplessly on the street corner and said "so, um, like, where are we?" HA!
I called Jamaal and he said "the nearest subway stop is 66th and Broadway. Take the 1 to 34th." "Awesome." I think the three morons were probably still traipsing through the city when I arrived in the lobby of Jam's office not 15 minutes later. Sigh. Some people. They do make for a good story though, don't they??!
Monday, February 12, 2007
My Dearly Beloved
Boyfriend (excalibur) posted some questions he read in an article on his blog. While I think these are incredibly important questions to seriously consider before marriage, I can't help but to give my snarky first impulse response to them. Plus it will probably make him laugh instead of worry because we've actually talked about a lot of these more or less. Here we go:
Questions Couples Should Ask (Or Wish They Had) Before Marrying
Relationship experts report that too many couples fail to ask each other critical questions before marrying. Here are a few key ones that couples should consider asking:
1) Have we discussed whether or not to have children, and if the answer is yes, who is going to be the primary care giver?
As the woman, I plan to stay at home with the children and dedicate myself to the rigors of household duty with a strict daily schedule of laundry, dishes, ironing, sewing the children's wardrobes and disinfection of various "germ-ridden" areas of the house with clorox wipes. Our house will always be clean, and smell as if no children live there and no food is cooked there. Also, note I did not answer "whether or not to have children." I am a woman, it is my job, how can you even ask that?
2) Do we have a clear idea of each other’s financial obligations and goals, and do our ideas about spending and saving mesh?
When we marry, Jam will do the bills because a girl just doesn't have the head for finances. I expect he will give me a weekly allowance though.
3) Have we discussed our expectations for how the household will be maintained, and are we in agreement on who will manage the chores?
I will do the cooking and cleaning and yardwork, unless it is too physical, then we'll have to hire a nice young man from the neighborhood to help out. Jam will not lift a finger, not even to put on his slippers, which will be warmed by the fire every night for the exact 10 minutes before he gets home, even in July. He will call me from work if he requires any special dietary considerations for that night's dinner as well as whether or not he would like me to have the bathtub ready for a soak so he can wash away all that stress!
4) Have we fully disclosed our health histories, both physical and mental?
I am a sexy beast.
5) Is my partner affectionate to the degree that I expect?
Of course he is!
6) Can we comfortably and openly discuss our sexual needs, preferences and fears?
What ever you need dear, your wish is my command. I am afraid of grasshoppers though. There, I've said it.
7) Will there be a television in the bedroom?
How else will Jam be able to comfortably watch porn and the NFL?
8) Do we truly listen to each other and fairly consider one another’s ideas and complaints?
Of course. What'd you say?
9) Have we reached a clear understanding of each other’s spiritual beliefs and needs, and have we discussed when and how our children will be exposed to religious/moral education?
I am protestant. Our children will be raised as puritans, with church 6 hours a day on Sunday and they won't know about s-e-x until they go to some heathen college and drink beer and learn the secrets of boys/girls/both.
10) Do we like and respect each other’s friends?
Of course. Except for that funny looking one and that weird one and the one with the thing on the thing, coming off the thing.....and that other one, the one who got the sex change. Weird.
11) Do we value and respect each other’s parents, and is either of us concerned about whether the parents will interfere with the relationship?
Brenda gave me foot care products this weekend. But see, I don't see that as necessarily interfering. It's more like trying to help the helpless. Jam was probably like 'Mommy, Allison has nasty feet." And she bought me the foot care set as a way of saying "clean up your stank feet or you'll be looking for a new boyfriend." That's sweet. As for my parents - can parents who don't know the intimate details of your relationship interfere with it? N-O nooooo
12) What does my family do that annoys you?
It's the license plate-collecting, anal retentive car-washing, New England Patriots Boston Red Sox obsessing, organic food-eating thing, isn't it? Sniffle
13) Are there some things that you and I are NOT prepared to give up in the marriage?
The nasty dirty.........oh. No. I mean. Um. I still want to drink a coke zero a night, ok?
14) If one of us were to be offered a career opportunity in a location far from the other’s family, are we prepared to move?
Why would we do that, we live in my parent's basement for FREEEEEEEE
15) Does each of us feel fully confident in the other’s commitment to the marriage and believe that the bond can survive whatever challenges we may face?
If we can survive flaming buses, Peter Pan passengers from hell, lost bus drivers, Long Island highways, five hour rides to Maine, entertaining ourselves in rainy ass Vermont, and that whole crapload of miles between us, surely we could survive MARRIAGE!!
Seriously though, once again, these are really important questions that Jam and I should probably go over one day. Cause there are definitely things I assumed - I always imagined that I'd stay home with the kids if possible. I don't know why I just did - and I went to a women's college that beat the whole breaking the glass ceiling thing into you! But maybe it's Jam's lifelong dream to be a stay at home dad! I can't mess with that! There are also things I never even thought about: tv in the bedroom? I just never thought about it. True, bedrooms without tvs can be very relaxing and zen, that's true enough, plus it's very bad feng shui to have a tv in the bedroom, it is a black hole just waiting to suck up good energy. But honestly, I never really put too much thought into it? why? because let's put it this way: Jam and I both have tv's in our rooms. And when we're with each other, unless we're deliberately watching tv and sometimes not even then, the focus is not, NOT on the television. Case closed.
Oh dear, I've wasted precious study time to fill this out. Ah well, it's been fun nonetheless. Hope you laughed Jammy Jam. I love you madly.
Relationship experts report that too many couples fail to ask each other critical questions before marrying. Here are a few key ones that couples should consider asking:
1) Have we discussed whether or not to have children, and if the answer is yes, who is going to be the primary care giver?
As the woman, I plan to stay at home with the children and dedicate myself to the rigors of household duty with a strict daily schedule of laundry, dishes, ironing, sewing the children's wardrobes and disinfection of various "germ-ridden" areas of the house with clorox wipes. Our house will always be clean, and smell as if no children live there and no food is cooked there. Also, note I did not answer "whether or not to have children." I am a woman, it is my job, how can you even ask that?
2) Do we have a clear idea of each other’s financial obligations and goals, and do our ideas about spending and saving mesh?
When we marry, Jam will do the bills because a girl just doesn't have the head for finances. I expect he will give me a weekly allowance though.
3) Have we discussed our expectations for how the household will be maintained, and are we in agreement on who will manage the chores?
I will do the cooking and cleaning and yardwork, unless it is too physical, then we'll have to hire a nice young man from the neighborhood to help out. Jam will not lift a finger, not even to put on his slippers, which will be warmed by the fire every night for the exact 10 minutes before he gets home, even in July. He will call me from work if he requires any special dietary considerations for that night's dinner as well as whether or not he would like me to have the bathtub ready for a soak so he can wash away all that stress!
4) Have we fully disclosed our health histories, both physical and mental?
I am a sexy beast.
5) Is my partner affectionate to the degree that I expect?
Of course he is!
6) Can we comfortably and openly discuss our sexual needs, preferences and fears?
What ever you need dear, your wish is my command. I am afraid of grasshoppers though. There, I've said it.
7) Will there be a television in the bedroom?
How else will Jam be able to comfortably watch porn and the NFL?
8) Do we truly listen to each other and fairly consider one another’s ideas and complaints?
Of course. What'd you say?
9) Have we reached a clear understanding of each other’s spiritual beliefs and needs, and have we discussed when and how our children will be exposed to religious/moral education?
I am protestant. Our children will be raised as puritans, with church 6 hours a day on Sunday and they won't know about s-e-x until they go to some heathen college and drink beer and learn the secrets of boys/girls/both.
10) Do we like and respect each other’s friends?
Of course. Except for that funny looking one and that weird one and the one with the thing on the thing, coming off the thing.....and that other one, the one who got the sex change. Weird.
11) Do we value and respect each other’s parents, and is either of us concerned about whether the parents will interfere with the relationship?
Brenda gave me foot care products this weekend. But see, I don't see that as necessarily interfering. It's more like trying to help the helpless. Jam was probably like 'Mommy, Allison has nasty feet." And she bought me the foot care set as a way of saying "clean up your stank feet or you'll be looking for a new boyfriend." That's sweet. As for my parents - can parents who don't know the intimate details of your relationship interfere with it? N-O nooooo
12) What does my family do that annoys you?
It's the license plate-collecting, anal retentive car-washing, New England Patriots Boston Red Sox obsessing, organic food-eating thing, isn't it? Sniffle
13) Are there some things that you and I are NOT prepared to give up in the marriage?
The nasty dirty.........oh. No. I mean. Um. I still want to drink a coke zero a night, ok?
14) If one of us were to be offered a career opportunity in a location far from the other’s family, are we prepared to move?
Why would we do that, we live in my parent's basement for FREEEEEEEE
15) Does each of us feel fully confident in the other’s commitment to the marriage and believe that the bond can survive whatever challenges we may face?
If we can survive flaming buses, Peter Pan passengers from hell, lost bus drivers, Long Island highways, five hour rides to Maine, entertaining ourselves in rainy ass Vermont, and that whole crapload of miles between us, surely we could survive MARRIAGE!!
Seriously though, once again, these are really important questions that Jam and I should probably go over one day. Cause there are definitely things I assumed - I always imagined that I'd stay home with the kids if possible. I don't know why I just did - and I went to a women's college that beat the whole breaking the glass ceiling thing into you! But maybe it's Jam's lifelong dream to be a stay at home dad! I can't mess with that! There are also things I never even thought about: tv in the bedroom? I just never thought about it. True, bedrooms without tvs can be very relaxing and zen, that's true enough, plus it's very bad feng shui to have a tv in the bedroom, it is a black hole just waiting to suck up good energy. But honestly, I never really put too much thought into it? why? because let's put it this way: Jam and I both have tv's in our rooms. And when we're with each other, unless we're deliberately watching tv and sometimes not even then, the focus is not, NOT on the television. Case closed.
Oh dear, I've wasted precious study time to fill this out. Ah well, it's been fun nonetheless. Hope you laughed Jammy Jam. I love you madly.
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Brilliance
I just read an excerpt from Siri Agrell's book "Bad Bridesmaid" and all I have to say is: where do I get my copy? Clearly this woman has done her research. I was only half a bridesmaid, and by half I mean was asked, said yes, bought the dress, which was a glorified prom dress (the groom's sister said it had to be a two piece halter dress or else she wouldn't be in the wedding) a size too big for me because the bride wanted to be the skinniest and PERIWINKLE, only to have the bride cancel the wedding three months before launch date and be stuck with this hideous periwinkle monstrosity that did not even once come in contact with my body. I did eventually part with it and sent it to one of those prom charities that provide dresses for needy girls. That's what it was perfect for. When I was 16 I probably would've drooled over a $168 periwinkle pouf-skirt 2 piece with a beaded halter. 8 years later, not so much. Anyways, the quotation:
More than a wearable wedding accessory, the bridesmaid dress has developed into a modern tool of female ritual humiliation. One suspects that there is a global conspiracy afoot to persuade women to dress up like idiots and bound down an aisle-way to turn us against each other so we can never unite toward the goal of total world domination.
More than a wearable wedding accessory, the bridesmaid dress has developed into a modern tool of female ritual humiliation. One suspects that there is a global conspiracy afoot to persuade women to dress up like idiots and bound down an aisle-way to turn us against each other so we can never unite toward the goal of total world domination.
Monday, February 05, 2007
Sitemeter
I am home sick today (a cold this time. Can you even believe it??!!) and to pass the time before I drive myself to class I clicked on sitemeter (I am supposed to be doing my animal behavior reading but and finding it difficult to concentrate on chapter 1, a detailed and long chapter about the origins of animal behavior. blah!). Apparently, the visitors to this site hail from all over the place, which is a downright shock to me, I thought about 3 people visited this thing, plus or minus the few people who saw the blog name and were hoping that this was an anti-suffragist movement blog, hahahaha.
I just want to say "Karibu" - welcome, and sorry these last few posts have been less then exhilirating! It'll get better once life is better organized, which will be soon. I swear..........
In the meantime, entertain yourself with the daily pictures, I do actually update those. Almost every day.....
ALSO - enjoy the little bit I just added in the sidebar - flickr zeitgeist!
I just want to say "Karibu" - welcome, and sorry these last few posts have been less then exhilirating! It'll get better once life is better organized, which will be soon. I swear..........
In the meantime, entertain yourself with the daily pictures, I do actually update those. Almost every day.....
ALSO - enjoy the little bit I just added in the sidebar - flickr zeitgeist!
Thursday, February 01, 2007
I know I know, it's the third of the day but..
Ok so I know this is the third post of the day, but I just heard about the passing of Molly Ivins, a Smithie from the class of '66. For those of you who don't know who she is, here's a very sweet article about her.
I just wanted to say a little something about the woman. I know she was an author and an activist, but what I will remember about her was her sense of humor. When I saw her at Rally Day in 2001, I thought I was going to piss my pants. She was a woman who didn't hold anything back and you could tell she wasn't afraid to tell a person what she thought of them to their face. Some of her political views were a bit rabid to me, but c'mon, she's a Smithie, and honestly, to another Smithie that's the only thing that really matters.
My favorite Molly story was the one she told about her hometown: The KKK, the Ku Klux Klan, came to demonstrate in Austin just two weeks ago; they came on the Saturday before the Martin Luther King holiday to protest the fact that the state of Texas now recognizes the birthday of Martin Luther King. We don’t have very many Klansmen in Austin, so they had to bus them in from Waco. Forty of them got off wearing sheets and hoods and were met by 5,000 citizens of Austin who “mooned” them. It was really artistic. It was sort of like a wave on Congress Avenue. And that’s the kind of thing I mean about having a little fun fighting for freedom.
She made me proud to be a Smith woman: "It wasn't that Smith taught me that women can do anything," Ivins said. "Smith taught me to simply assume women can do anything! And as I went forth to conquer the world in 1966, I didn't yet realize what a great gift that [concept] was. It took me a long time -- and I'm still grateful for it."
RIP
I just wanted to say a little something about the woman. I know she was an author and an activist, but what I will remember about her was her sense of humor. When I saw her at Rally Day in 2001, I thought I was going to piss my pants. She was a woman who didn't hold anything back and you could tell she wasn't afraid to tell a person what she thought of them to their face. Some of her political views were a bit rabid to me, but c'mon, she's a Smithie, and honestly, to another Smithie that's the only thing that really matters.
My favorite Molly story was the one she told about her hometown: The KKK, the Ku Klux Klan, came to demonstrate in Austin just two weeks ago; they came on the Saturday before the Martin Luther King holiday to protest the fact that the state of Texas now recognizes the birthday of Martin Luther King. We don’t have very many Klansmen in Austin, so they had to bus them in from Waco. Forty of them got off wearing sheets and hoods and were met by 5,000 citizens of Austin who “mooned” them. It was really artistic. It was sort of like a wave on Congress Avenue. And that’s the kind of thing I mean about having a little fun fighting for freedom.
She made me proud to be a Smith woman: "It wasn't that Smith taught me that women can do anything," Ivins said. "Smith taught me to simply assume women can do anything! And as I went forth to conquer the world in 1966, I didn't yet realize what a great gift that [concept] was. It took me a long time -- and I'm still grateful for it."
RIP
Clearing the Air
Ok I feel the need to neutralize my post of slight rage, seen below :P
Enjoy Amy and Lily being cute:
Lily is obsessed with Amy. I mean, I know he loves me and I probably interact with him the most, but when Amy is in the room and Lily is out of his cage, it's all about Ame. He sits on her boobs and taps them with his beak (one of his character traits, tapping. we think he's testing different surfaces when he taps them). He also sings songs to her feet. Yup, he's a man with fetishes, hahahah.
Enjoy Amy and Lily being cute:
Lily is obsessed with Amy. I mean, I know he loves me and I probably interact with him the most, but when Amy is in the room and Lily is out of his cage, it's all about Ame. He sits on her boobs and taps them with his beak (one of his character traits, tapping. we think he's testing different surfaces when he taps them). He also sings songs to her feet. Yup, he's a man with fetishes, hahahah.
The Scare that wasn't that Scary
So some of my favorite bloggers are deriding the city of Boston to their reaction of the advertising devices left under bridges and highways as part of a marketing scheme for the Aqua Teen Hunger Force feature-length film coming out in March. The full story can be found here.
I wanted to leave a comment on some of these blogs, but I figured that it would be easier just to summarize here.
Some of the things I read had the following spin: "How could they not know that these weren't bombs" "how could the "Aqua Teen Hunger Force" the 'best cartoon ever' characters not be recognized" "why is the media being so accusatory of Turner Networks" "why are they such alarmists" "the Boston Police were ridiculous" "How could anyone think this marketing scheme was anything but brilliant" and the list goes on. Here's how I feel about the deal.
1. When you put anything not readily identifiable under a major roadway or under a bridge which enables a major subway line to cross a large river, it's not cool. I don't give a shit if it IS an effing lite brite. The point is, you didn't tell anyone what you're doing, and when you live in this day and age and in this region of the country, something that looks like a box with wires coming out of it attached to a battery pack is going to arouse suspicion.
2. How could the Boston, Transit, and State Police have responded in any other way besides cautious? Like I said, they had no idea what these things were, and even after they recovered them, they still didn't. Despite the fact that there are many folks out there who think that Aqua Teen Hunger Force is the "best cartoon ever" I would never recognize a character from it, and I can guarantee you that most police officers probably wouldn't either. I live with a state trooper, I know these things, trust me!
3. If these HAD been bombs, which I understand they weren't, but had they been, and had the police allowed traffic to cross bridges and drive under and over overpasses and allowed the trains to keep running over the Charles and god-forbid something happened, their asses would've been on a platter. This city has let things slide in the past - I hate to harp on 9/11 but two of the planes came right out of our airport. While we'll never really understand what it's like to have a plane take down two of our buildings and I hope we never experience that either, what we do understand is how it feels to know that your city's system failed and let a big part of 9/11 happen. Yeah, I think they would've done it anyways, but Logan Airport just made it all the easier. A lot of our people were on those planes and we haven't forgotten how we were walked all over- how could we, it's on security video and it's played all the time up here when anyone references the hijackings. So when there's any kind of scare, those memories have to come flooding back and the authorities get cautious and defensive. And while it may seem ridiculous to some, irritating to others, I will 10 out of 10 times vote for erring on the side of caution. You don't want me to take liquids on a plane? Fine, done. You want me to wait outside the station while you put the bomb dogs down there for a routine check? Go ahead, I have all the time and convenience in the world when it comes to my safety. I have rights, and one of those rights is the freedom from fear, to not have to think twice about boarding a train or a bus in the city in which I work, and if a little bit of time and effort is required on my part, it's ok. I know the CLU has very different feelings about this and I respect that, but this is how I feel.
4. I think the city handled this extremely well. Traffic was a bit of an issue for part of the day, as was public transportation, but did the city "shut down"? Absolutely not. I got to work and school fine yesterday, and had I been caught in the midst of everything (because I passed over the "advertising" locations several times yesterday) I still would've managed to get home at a reasonable hour. The media was indeed ridiculous, but aren't they always? I saw no one panicking because of anything they saw on CNN. Our police officers were calm and efficient and our public officials were pissed but perfectly rational. We took care of the issue and went about our daily lives. A lot of us, me included, weren't even on top of things enough to realize that the whole "bomb scare" was going on around us. I crossed the Longfellow Bridge right before the police shut it down, and the Park Street station had been closed when my train got there, yet I had no idea. Why? Because the police, mayor and governor weren't sure what they were dealing with, but they were sure that there was no need to panic. Those who they felt were threatened in anyway were dealt with appropriately, everyone else told to be vigilant. Nothing too heavy. I appreciate that, especially since I am a huge proponent of "let's not panic until we have something about which to panic" (except when it comes to natural disasters because I was panicking for the people of Louisiana and Mississippi 2 days before Katrina hit. Probably more than that a-hole governor and mayor were. Seriously, I sat in Virginia completely distressed at what I saw on the radar. So don't ever f*ck with natural disasters. Panic, pack up your sh*t, and leave, don't wait until elected officials tell you to panic, by then, I guarantee you it will be too late).
5. As for punishing those who did this - yes, I know we weren't the only city to have these things planted, yes I know they were planted several weeks ago and we're just seeing them now, but to set up these little lite brite devices and their battery pack and stuff under a bridge is just shady. What's even stranger is not telling anyone about it. Yeah it can be a whole nice surprise for everyone to see the little lightboards and crap you don't have to ruin the surprise by telling everyone, but couldn't you just drop a line to the police so they know how to respond when people talk about suspicious packages under bridges?? When you don't fess up to placing these items and when no one knows what they are and you bother 3 separate police forces, the coast guard, the governor, the mayor, the mbta and the interstates, that's when you get in big ass trouble. That's when people start talking lawsuits and money. You've cost us time, money, and patience. Not so cool. If someone had just said something to someone from the very beginning, all this could've been avoided, because trust me, the police probably felt pretty dumb when they found out that they had been detonating glorified lite brites all day, never mind the fact that they've completely wasted their time on some trivial sh*t that no one really cares about.
Well thank you for letting me rant. Don't hate on Boston for responding like this. We're a cool city, maybe not as well acquainted with "Aqua Teen Hunger Force" as other regions of the nation, but forgive us, for we have the Red Sox and the Patriots, so there's not huge amount of time we can dedicate to the Cartoon Network. We're pretty practical folk, the natives at least, stoic New Englanders who don't make a fuss about too much, just know for the city to go to great lengths it's because they had a valid concern. Hope that wherever you live that they would respect the safety of the residents enough to take whatever action they thought was necessary to ensure your protection.
I wanted to leave a comment on some of these blogs, but I figured that it would be easier just to summarize here.
Some of the things I read had the following spin: "How could they not know that these weren't bombs" "how could the "Aqua Teen Hunger Force" the 'best cartoon ever' characters not be recognized" "why is the media being so accusatory of Turner Networks" "why are they such alarmists" "the Boston Police were ridiculous" "How could anyone think this marketing scheme was anything but brilliant" and the list goes on. Here's how I feel about the deal.
1. When you put anything not readily identifiable under a major roadway or under a bridge which enables a major subway line to cross a large river, it's not cool. I don't give a shit if it IS an effing lite brite. The point is, you didn't tell anyone what you're doing, and when you live in this day and age and in this region of the country, something that looks like a box with wires coming out of it attached to a battery pack is going to arouse suspicion.
2. How could the Boston, Transit, and State Police have responded in any other way besides cautious? Like I said, they had no idea what these things were, and even after they recovered them, they still didn't. Despite the fact that there are many folks out there who think that Aqua Teen Hunger Force is the "best cartoon ever" I would never recognize a character from it, and I can guarantee you that most police officers probably wouldn't either. I live with a state trooper, I know these things, trust me!
3. If these HAD been bombs, which I understand they weren't, but had they been, and had the police allowed traffic to cross bridges and drive under and over overpasses and allowed the trains to keep running over the Charles and god-forbid something happened, their asses would've been on a platter. This city has let things slide in the past - I hate to harp on 9/11 but two of the planes came right out of our airport. While we'll never really understand what it's like to have a plane take down two of our buildings and I hope we never experience that either, what we do understand is how it feels to know that your city's system failed and let a big part of 9/11 happen. Yeah, I think they would've done it anyways, but Logan Airport just made it all the easier. A lot of our people were on those planes and we haven't forgotten how we were walked all over- how could we, it's on security video and it's played all the time up here when anyone references the hijackings. So when there's any kind of scare, those memories have to come flooding back and the authorities get cautious and defensive. And while it may seem ridiculous to some, irritating to others, I will 10 out of 10 times vote for erring on the side of caution. You don't want me to take liquids on a plane? Fine, done. You want me to wait outside the station while you put the bomb dogs down there for a routine check? Go ahead, I have all the time and convenience in the world when it comes to my safety. I have rights, and one of those rights is the freedom from fear, to not have to think twice about boarding a train or a bus in the city in which I work, and if a little bit of time and effort is required on my part, it's ok. I know the CLU has very different feelings about this and I respect that, but this is how I feel.
4. I think the city handled this extremely well. Traffic was a bit of an issue for part of the day, as was public transportation, but did the city "shut down"? Absolutely not. I got to work and school fine yesterday, and had I been caught in the midst of everything (because I passed over the "advertising" locations several times yesterday) I still would've managed to get home at a reasonable hour. The media was indeed ridiculous, but aren't they always? I saw no one panicking because of anything they saw on CNN. Our police officers were calm and efficient and our public officials were pissed but perfectly rational. We took care of the issue and went about our daily lives. A lot of us, me included, weren't even on top of things enough to realize that the whole "bomb scare" was going on around us. I crossed the Longfellow Bridge right before the police shut it down, and the Park Street station had been closed when my train got there, yet I had no idea. Why? Because the police, mayor and governor weren't sure what they were dealing with, but they were sure that there was no need to panic. Those who they felt were threatened in anyway were dealt with appropriately, everyone else told to be vigilant. Nothing too heavy. I appreciate that, especially since I am a huge proponent of "let's not panic until we have something about which to panic" (except when it comes to natural disasters because I was panicking for the people of Louisiana and Mississippi 2 days before Katrina hit. Probably more than that a-hole governor and mayor were. Seriously, I sat in Virginia completely distressed at what I saw on the radar. So don't ever f*ck with natural disasters. Panic, pack up your sh*t, and leave, don't wait until elected officials tell you to panic, by then, I guarantee you it will be too late).
5. As for punishing those who did this - yes, I know we weren't the only city to have these things planted, yes I know they were planted several weeks ago and we're just seeing them now, but to set up these little lite brite devices and their battery pack and stuff under a bridge is just shady. What's even stranger is not telling anyone about it. Yeah it can be a whole nice surprise for everyone to see the little lightboards and crap you don't have to ruin the surprise by telling everyone, but couldn't you just drop a line to the police so they know how to respond when people talk about suspicious packages under bridges?? When you don't fess up to placing these items and when no one knows what they are and you bother 3 separate police forces, the coast guard, the governor, the mayor, the mbta and the interstates, that's when you get in big ass trouble. That's when people start talking lawsuits and money. You've cost us time, money, and patience. Not so cool. If someone had just said something to someone from the very beginning, all this could've been avoided, because trust me, the police probably felt pretty dumb when they found out that they had been detonating glorified lite brites all day, never mind the fact that they've completely wasted their time on some trivial sh*t that no one really cares about.
Well thank you for letting me rant. Don't hate on Boston for responding like this. We're a cool city, maybe not as well acquainted with "Aqua Teen Hunger Force" as other regions of the nation, but forgive us, for we have the Red Sox and the Patriots, so there's not huge amount of time we can dedicate to the Cartoon Network. We're pretty practical folk, the natives at least, stoic New Englanders who don't make a fuss about too much, just know for the city to go to great lengths it's because they had a valid concern. Hope that wherever you live that they would respect the safety of the residents enough to take whatever action they thought was necessary to ensure your protection.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
'tis the season
the lambing season, that is!
I read this lady's fine blog because she's a stitcher and lives in the general vicinity of my alma mater, plus, she's married to a farmer and has great farm stories. I truly miss Western Mass from time to time - it is quiet and peaceful and the pace of life is a tad bit slower, yet you are still in Massachusetts and still have that common masshole bond, which I totally love.
Anyways, give it a read. It'll make you long to leave your job in the city, don some carhartts and head west (if you're in Mass that is) where life isn't necessarily simpler at all, but it seems so.
I read this lady's fine blog because she's a stitcher and lives in the general vicinity of my alma mater, plus, she's married to a farmer and has great farm stories. I truly miss Western Mass from time to time - it is quiet and peaceful and the pace of life is a tad bit slower, yet you are still in Massachusetts and still have that common masshole bond, which I totally love.
Anyways, give it a read. It'll make you long to leave your job in the city, don some carhartts and head west (if you're in Mass that is) where life isn't necessarily simpler at all, but it seems so.
rrriigghhttt
Yesterday I was sitting peacefully in my office with 4 of my other coworkers.
A woman bursts in the door.
I don't even look up because if a woman is bursting in the door it's either Laura, who wasn't at work yet, my boss, or Sarah, a girl who sort of oversees our databases. I think, not too sure what she does. I see this woman making a beeline for me so I think "Sh8t, my boss" and start to close out the email I'm composing to Jam.
As I turn to look at this person, I realize it's not my boss. It's a person without a hospital ID, carrying a file folder. She stops at my desk and says "I'm supposed to meet Dr. X and he's not in the room he said he'd be in and now I can't find him and I need you to help me." I look at her dumbfounded. 1. I barely know Dr. X. I know who he is, he's the pr!ck who walks through the halls with his nose in the air and does not acknowledge your existence unless you have a MD. He also helps himself to seconds and thirds at our weekly conferences when there's barely enough food to feed the people who show up firsts. Other than that, I know nothing about him. 2. This is a private office, we're not anyone's office assistants, this is NOT our job.
In trying to be nice, I say "I know where his office is, let me point it out to you." I take the woman down the hall a ways and say "it's up there on the right." She walks away without a "thank you."
I return to my office and close the door with a groan. Everyone talks at once "can you believe that" "seriously?" "oh my GOD!" I say "this is why we need to keep the door shut!" Actually, this is not the first time we've had people barge in making demands. We've had people open the door and say "I printed something to your printer" barge into our office and start rifling through documents on the printer. We've had people want to use our phones or email someone or page someone. Once a woman barged in because she needed a tissue. Another time someone wanted the code to the bathroom, other times people want to know where the bathroom is. We even had a woman bitch us out because we didn't know where Dr. G's office was. She pulled a nutty right in our office screaming "WELL DO YOU OR DON'T YOU KNOW??!!!" It's all because we're right next to the conference room and I guess people assume that because we work in an office that's one big open room and not personal and private that we're receptionists or something, I don't know what. It's annoying too because our building is not that big and a square. If you can get to the Smith building and get on the right floor, you'll find what you're looking for.
Just as we settle down, the door bursts open again. Guess who's back? That's right, it's CRAZY. Again, she comes right to the edge of my keyboard, all up in my biz. "Yeah he wasn't there, page him for me?" Behind Crazy, Rochelle's jaw drops. "Ummm ok" I say. I open the intranet and start looking at the home page because I have know earthly idea how to page someone. "I'm actually not quite sure how to page someone" I say. The woman shifts her weight from foot to foot and kind of whines "you don't." She sights. Luckily, other Allison jumps in and says "Here, I'll do it" and Crazy migrates to the edge of her keyboard. "Ok," Allison says, "you want to page Dr. X, alrighty, and what number would you like him to call back?" "Oh ha ha" laughs Crazy, "I don't have a phone here. He'll need to call one of your extensions." At that point, I've had enough "LOOK" I shout, "wouldn't this be something that the reception desk at the front should be handling?" "Yea.." starts Allison, but Crazy interrupts her "No, no now I want YOU to do it. I want him to call me HERE at this extension." Rochelle's jaw drops again. "FINE, " says Allison, paging Dr. X
Because Dr. X is a jerkstore he didn't call back for 10 minutes. For 10 whole minutes Crazy stands in our office, right in the middle, shifting from foot to foot, scrutinizing our pictures, our files, US, everything. Finally Allison's phone rings. The conversation sounds like this "Yeah, I have her here.....excuse me??.....dead silence dead silence foreverrrrrr....Fine, 3rd floor Fine." She says to Crazy "he wants you to go to the third floor, he'll meet you at the elevators there." "How do I get there?" she asks. We explain where the elevators are. "Ok Thanks!" she says.
We shut the door again and hope she doesn't come back. Allison then says that Dr. X wanted one of us to walk the lost soul to a different building a block away so she wouldn't get lost. 'That's why I was silent for so long. That' s not my job. I want to be helpful, but there's a limit, and that limit is getting my coat on and walking some woman two blocks to meet Dr. X when he was supposed to meet her here. We don't even work for him!!"
As if that wasn't enough, Dr. X calls back 5 minutes later demanding to know where Crazy is. "She's not HERE yet" he says. "Well," says Allison "I'm sure she'll make it." She slams the phone down.
I think we need to get a sign for our door that says "PRIVATE."
A woman bursts in the door.
I don't even look up because if a woman is bursting in the door it's either Laura, who wasn't at work yet, my boss, or Sarah, a girl who sort of oversees our databases. I think, not too sure what she does. I see this woman making a beeline for me so I think "Sh8t, my boss" and start to close out the email I'm composing to Jam.
As I turn to look at this person, I realize it's not my boss. It's a person without a hospital ID, carrying a file folder. She stops at my desk and says "I'm supposed to meet Dr. X and he's not in the room he said he'd be in and now I can't find him and I need you to help me." I look at her dumbfounded. 1. I barely know Dr. X. I know who he is, he's the pr!ck who walks through the halls with his nose in the air and does not acknowledge your existence unless you have a MD. He also helps himself to seconds and thirds at our weekly conferences when there's barely enough food to feed the people who show up firsts. Other than that, I know nothing about him. 2. This is a private office, we're not anyone's office assistants, this is NOT our job.
In trying to be nice, I say "I know where his office is, let me point it out to you." I take the woman down the hall a ways and say "it's up there on the right." She walks away without a "thank you."
I return to my office and close the door with a groan. Everyone talks at once "can you believe that" "seriously?" "oh my GOD!" I say "this is why we need to keep the door shut!" Actually, this is not the first time we've had people barge in making demands. We've had people open the door and say "I printed something to your printer" barge into our office and start rifling through documents on the printer. We've had people want to use our phones or email someone or page someone. Once a woman barged in because she needed a tissue. Another time someone wanted the code to the bathroom, other times people want to know where the bathroom is. We even had a woman bitch us out because we didn't know where Dr. G's office was. She pulled a nutty right in our office screaming "WELL DO YOU OR DON'T YOU KNOW??!!!" It's all because we're right next to the conference room and I guess people assume that because we work in an office that's one big open room and not personal and private that we're receptionists or something, I don't know what. It's annoying too because our building is not that big and a square. If you can get to the Smith building and get on the right floor, you'll find what you're looking for.
Just as we settle down, the door bursts open again. Guess who's back? That's right, it's CRAZY. Again, she comes right to the edge of my keyboard, all up in my biz. "Yeah he wasn't there, page him for me?" Behind Crazy, Rochelle's jaw drops. "Ummm ok" I say. I open the intranet and start looking at the home page because I have know earthly idea how to page someone. "I'm actually not quite sure how to page someone" I say. The woman shifts her weight from foot to foot and kind of whines "you don't." She sights. Luckily, other Allison jumps in and says "Here, I'll do it" and Crazy migrates to the edge of her keyboard. "Ok," Allison says, "you want to page Dr. X, alrighty, and what number would you like him to call back?" "Oh ha ha" laughs Crazy, "I don't have a phone here. He'll need to call one of your extensions." At that point, I've had enough "LOOK" I shout, "wouldn't this be something that the reception desk at the front should be handling?" "Yea.." starts Allison, but Crazy interrupts her "No, no now I want YOU to do it. I want him to call me HERE at this extension." Rochelle's jaw drops again. "FINE, " says Allison, paging Dr. X
Because Dr. X is a jerkstore he didn't call back for 10 minutes. For 10 whole minutes Crazy stands in our office, right in the middle, shifting from foot to foot, scrutinizing our pictures, our files, US, everything. Finally Allison's phone rings. The conversation sounds like this "Yeah, I have her here.....excuse me??.....dead silence dead silence foreverrrrrr....Fine, 3rd floor Fine." She says to Crazy "he wants you to go to the third floor, he'll meet you at the elevators there." "How do I get there?" she asks. We explain where the elevators are. "Ok Thanks!" she says.
We shut the door again and hope she doesn't come back. Allison then says that Dr. X wanted one of us to walk the lost soul to a different building a block away so she wouldn't get lost. 'That's why I was silent for so long. That' s not my job. I want to be helpful, but there's a limit, and that limit is getting my coat on and walking some woman two blocks to meet Dr. X when he was supposed to meet her here. We don't even work for him!!"
As if that wasn't enough, Dr. X calls back 5 minutes later demanding to know where Crazy is. "She's not HERE yet" he says. "Well," says Allison "I'm sure she'll make it." She slams the phone down.
I think we need to get a sign for our door that says "PRIVATE."
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Done
1. have started posting daily pictures (you must scroll to the bottom of the page to see them!)
2. ran 4.3 miles last week, walked unknown # I forget!
3. have walked 3 miles this week, 1 weight workout, 1 pilates workout
4. have accomplished NO WORK TODAY! grrr.
5. Made a 37 item to do list :)
More later :P
2. ran 4.3 miles last week, walked unknown # I forget!
3. have walked 3 miles this week, 1 weight workout, 1 pilates workout
4. have accomplished NO WORK TODAY! grrr.
5. Made a 37 item to do list :)
More later :P
Friday, January 26, 2007
Things I would like to
Take Part In:
100 miles by April 1st
I saw this on LiveJournal and on some of my favorite crafty blogs. You can swim, run, walk, job or bike 100 miles by April. I will have to figure out this week's mileage. I know I should be around 6 running miles plus more walking miles.
100 books in 2007
I believe I saw this one on LiveJournal. I've already read at least 1 book in '07, but I won't count it because it was one of my all-time favorites (Enemy Women by Paulette Jiles) and I was rereading it for at least the third time!
Put daily photos on the blog - especially since I have a digital camera!
Do:
Make my office a more pleasant place to work and live. This is what it looks like:
Ugh, oppressively boring!
More crafting for charities
So doing this one, already working on my squares.
Love this too, and it's close to home.
hmmm I'm sure I'll have more to post later. That's it for now!!
100 miles by April 1st
I saw this on LiveJournal and on some of my favorite crafty blogs. You can swim, run, walk, job or bike 100 miles by April. I will have to figure out this week's mileage. I know I should be around 6 running miles plus more walking miles.
100 books in 2007
I believe I saw this one on LiveJournal. I've already read at least 1 book in '07, but I won't count it because it was one of my all-time favorites (Enemy Women by Paulette Jiles) and I was rereading it for at least the third time!
Put daily photos on the blog - especially since I have a digital camera!
Do:
Make my office a more pleasant place to work and live. This is what it looks like:
Ugh, oppressively boring!
More crafting for charities
So doing this one, already working on my squares.
Love this too, and it's close to home.
hmmm I'm sure I'll have more to post later. That's it for now!!
6. Count Your Blessings
Ok, so I was going to do the blessing post yesterday, but I was feeling quite unblessed. I was going to go on and on about how it was really difficult to post because the following things have happened to me in the month of January:
death of great auntie
contraction of norovirus with vomiting and diarrhea
train derailment and missing of first day of classes
pet bird picking open fatty tumor on chest and bleeding everywhere; death seem iminent
spilling entire venti latte in school backpack
man at Subway shortchanging me $10
Patriots heartbreaking loss to Colts 38-34
getting bit by a parrot - a really bad bite (see pictures)
falling walking out of Tufts parking garage and cutting my knee and palms and ripping my favorite Ann Taylor Loft pants (see pictures)
All these things amongst other small tragedies. Then I started reading my favorite blogs and realized that January is a cruel month in general that's hard on a lot of people. In fact, some people have just had a crapass year. Some people are having struggles with their kids. For some, it's just so freakin' RAINY! Honestly, my problems seem so trivial. I should kn
ow better too, I KNOW that. A ton of really and truly crapass things could've happened to me - my car could've died or my house could've been destroyed. I could've caught a deadly disease. I do know that I am lucky and fortunate, etc, but seriously, you can only do so many bad things (spilling venti latte) or have so much bad luck before you start looking for un chico grande as my friend and I used to joke in high school: The big boy. That's why I've been walking more slowly. Looking both ways. Not tailgating. My luck is only borderline right now. The big unlucky thing could come and get me at any time, so I can't put myself in a risky situation.
I have two theories about my luck lately. Theory 1: I am being taught a lesson because I have been uncharitable/ungrateful for the things I do have. Minor bad things are happening to make me realize that suckage, true suckage, does not exist in any facet of my life. I have a great family, friends, a house to live in, a crapton of food. I have a job, I'm going to graduate school. I have my health, my limbs, all my teeth, and hell, I even have a car that works! Life is good and I am blessed.
Theory 2: My luck in the near future is going to be so INSANELY good, that I am being humbled before the luck hits, so I will be all the more grateful for it when it arrives. This makes me think that perhaps I should go out and buy lottery tickets. I really can't though, I spent way too much last night replacing my ripped pants with brand new Ann Taylor Loft pants. And jeans. And two shirts. Bless me.
Sunrise this morning just before 7am, from the MBTA Parking Garage.
My car thermometer said:
6 F. And that's without a windchill factor!
Stay warm, everyone.
death of great auntie
contraction of norovirus with vomiting and diarrhea
train derailment and missing of first day of classes
pet bird picking open fatty tumor on chest and bleeding everywhere; death seem iminent
spilling entire venti latte in school backpack
man at Subway shortchanging me $10
Patriots heartbreaking loss to Colts 38-34
getting bit by a parrot - a really bad bite (see pictures)
falling walking out of Tufts parking garage and cutting my knee and palms and ripping my favorite Ann Taylor Loft pants (see pictures)
All these things amongst other small tragedies. Then I started reading my favorite blogs and realized that January is a cruel month in general that's hard on a lot of people. In fact, some people have just had a crapass year. Some people are having struggles with their kids. For some, it's just so freakin' RAINY! Honestly, my problems seem so trivial. I should kn
ow better too, I KNOW that. A ton of really and truly crapass things could've happened to me - my car could've died or my house could've been destroyed. I could've caught a deadly disease. I do know that I am lucky and fortunate, etc, but seriously, you can only do so many bad things (spilling venti latte) or have so much bad luck before you start looking for un chico grande as my friend and I used to joke in high school: The big boy. That's why I've been walking more slowly. Looking both ways. Not tailgating. My luck is only borderline right now. The big unlucky thing could come and get me at any time, so I can't put myself in a risky situation.I have two theories about my luck lately. Theory 1: I am being taught a lesson because I have been uncharitable/ungrateful for the things I do have. Minor bad things are happening to make me realize that suckage, true suckage, does not exist in any facet of my life. I have a great family, friends, a house to live in, a crapton of food. I have a job, I'm going to graduate school. I have my health, my limbs, all my teeth, and hell, I even have a car that works! Life is good and I am blessed.
Theory 2: My luck in the near future is going to be so INSANELY good, that I am being humbled before the luck hits, so I will be all the more grateful for it when it arrives. This makes me think that perhaps I should go out and buy lottery tickets. I really can't though, I spent way too much last night replacing my ripped pants with brand new Ann Taylor Loft pants. And jeans. And two shirts. Bless me.
Sunrise this morning just before 7am, from the MBTA Parking Garage.
My car thermometer said:
6 F. And that's without a windchill factor!Stay warm, everyone.
Friday, January 19, 2007
The Saga of my absence from Blogland (with pictures)
So I've been posting here and there, but not with any regularity. I have a long explanation. Here it is:
Things sort of drifted along through the holidays. Christmas was lovely, and I went to NYC for New Year's and it was fabu. Then the downward spiral happened:
January 2nd: My great auntie who was suspected to be at least 92 years old is taken to the hospital my ambulance. She had been sick with the "flu" which we took to mean the head flu, the fever and congestion flu. She meant the stomach flu - the one she caught from spending Christmas with Maine relatives. She had refused all visitors until her neighbor found her collapsed in her house after making her promise to go to the doctors and had to call the ambulance. The ER determines that a portion of her colon is dead. Bad news. She refuses all medical intervention besides pain management.
January 3rd: I go to the hospital with flowers for a visit. Things look bad.
January 4th: My great auntie Elinore dies. We did find out in the course of things that she was really 95. Now a lot of people brush you off when you tell them that your 95 year
old auntie died; they say "oh she had a good life" or 'she was so old." You know what? that really doesn't help. I KNOW she was old, I KNOW she had a good life. But she was very fit and feisty and was living in her own house up until the end. This was unexpected. I know the woman wasn't immortal, but still, this is not what we expected at all. And it wasn't easy, we were all still sad, especially my father, as she was really his last close relative. She was a wonderful lady. Oh yeah, she could play favorites and drive you crazy, but she totally loved us, and she was amused by most everything we did, as you can see in this old snapshot (it's a smile on her face, I swear :) ):
January 5th-9th: Life goes by in a haze. We have to deal with nasty extended family throughout the funeral arrangements. We're not looking forward to the funeral.
January 10th: "The Funeral." My last remaining great aunt arranges to have a "family viewing" of the body before the wake begins. As far as I recall, Aunt Elinore never wanted anyone looking at her dead body. Creepy! My sister and I wait outside the room until the casket is shut, despite the glares of family (not immediate family, they were like "right on, do what you think is right.) The wake was a triumph for our family though, because it was clear that we, despite the black cloud that the extended family tries to send over our family, despite the fact that we don't carry as much weight as they do (in their opinion) and despite the fact that certain cousins call my father the "black sheep" of the family (HA!) were the ones who really KNEW our Aunt. The wake was held in two rooms where the dividing wall had been slid back. Half of the room was the extended Maine family, the other half was our entire family and many many friends who knew and loved Aunt Elinore. Not that it was a competition, but we were winning. On the was to Mass, we were escorted by four Massachusetts State Police motorcycles. Ooo-rah, as my dad would say. It was badass and I know A.E. was looking down from the heavens thinking the same thing, especially when we brought East Milton Square to a DEAD STOP. It makes me laugh just thinking about it. The mass was lovely, I was so pleased that it was after being to so many impersonal funerals, the priest really put a nice touch on it. The
re was still a lot of Catholic things that I feel weird about (no offense to anyone, seriously, it's just what you're used to) but all in all, a lovely mass. The burial was, you know, a burial. Straightforward and simple. We then returned to Aunt Elinore's house, which was kind of weird, but most practical. There was, to our surprise, plenty of food and well-organized. I caught up and met a lot of family members and had great conversations with them. THe executor of the estate (don't even get me STARTED) was fairly well behaved and informed my sister and I that we were inheriting jewelry. Uh, OK. It was a very long day, and much beer was consumed. When we got back home, these flower
s were waiting for us, plus a box containing my new digital camera. I shamelessly snap pictures of Lily for half the night because he is so damn cute.
January 11th - just chillaxin'
January 12th. THE DAY OF INFAMY. I wake up at 5 with my stomach burning. Stoooopid freakin' heartburn, I think, and roll over. Amy wakes me at 7. "How do you feel?" she asks. "Why?" "Because Dad is throwing up in the bathroom." I sit up and hear my father vomiting. He's never ever sick and he has a stomach made of steel and dragons. As soon as I sit up I realize I don't feel so good. "How are you?" I ask Amy. "Ummm. Ok I think, queasy, but not real bad." "I'm going to call Mom" I tell her. I call my mom's work number from my cell. It rings forever, no one picks up. Amy realizes that this means she's probably at home. We go into our parent's bedroom and my mom is in the fetal position. "Up since two, vomiting, diarrhea" she says. "The soup?" I ask, referring to what we
had for dinner last night. "No" she says, "this is Maine." In one horrible minute we realize that Aunt Elinore had been in Maine for Christmas, where the family was sick with"flu." Stomach flu. She came home and was sick - what if she was sick with a virus and THEN had a colon problem? What if her throwing up was really the stomach bug? And what if the cousins didn't CLEAN her house before having everyone over?? Phone calls confirmed it. Here's who got sick: all four of u
s, my grandparents, my aunt, my dad's best friend, his wife, his daughter, my dad's cousin from Connecticut, his wife, his daughter, my cousins from Florida, who actually stayed in Auntie's house. Here's who didn't get sick: Everyone from MAINE. Food poisoning? No. Norovirus? Yes.
14 hours later we emerge from the fog of vomiting, nausea and diarrhea. We're all dehydrated and weak. My dad brings us the elixir of life, ginger ale. I sleep like a rock for 12 hours.
January 12th. We're all on the mend. I still feel sick, but am improving, eating and drinking. I've broken all the blood vessels around both eyes, my sister has broken blood vessels in her cheeks - they're from the heaving, there was a lot of it. We take it slow, but we have to clean, we have to strip beds and bleach floors and do everything we can to eradicate the virus from our house.
January 13th-15th: Mad recovery time. We do nothing but laundry and watch football.
January 16th: HAIRCUT AT LIQUID. Love it. Love the guy who did it too, he made me tea and told me that 90's movies were full of bad hair. He rocks :)
January 18th: First day of second semester classes. I rise at 6am, get dressed and get out the door at 6:30. It's freezing cold, but there's hardly any traffic and I zip right to the subway station. Sunrise is beautiful, and there is nothing foreboding about this day. Somewhere betwee
n North Quincy and JFK, my train derails. Ha, no problem, it'll move in a few minutes right? Wrong. For an hour, I glance at my watch and wipe my sweaty palms on my pants. I don't make it to Tufts until 10 minutes after my class ends. Damn.
January 19th: I make it to Davis Square on time. I spend 10 minutes waiting for the Tufts shuttle. Nothing. I start to walk to school. Time starts running out. I start running. I get to class beet red, sweaty and winded. The class is full of catty girls, catty bio nerd girls, the worst kind of undergrad. I have the worst luck and I start to wonder what the heck I did to make karma take such a bite out of my ass.
The bonus? I have a digital camera to document almost all of it.
So things are back on track I think. I feel optimistic about next week. Maybe it's because January is nearly over! Maybe it's because I have faith in the team that's gonna win it big this week. Maybe it's because I'm just a hopeless optimist, I don't know! It's been a hectic three weeks though, and I just KNOW it's got to get better than this. That being said, I'm going to go home and run errands. It's pay day and I'm feeling rich. Maybe I'll even go to JoAnn's for fabric. Such a bad girl. Happy Weekend all!
Things sort of drifted along through the holidays. Christmas was lovely, and I went to NYC for New Year's and it was fabu. Then the downward spiral happened:
January 2nd: My great auntie who was suspected to be at least 92 years old is taken to the hospital my ambulance. She had been sick with the "flu" which we took to mean the head flu, the fever and congestion flu. She meant the stomach flu - the one she caught from spending Christmas with Maine relatives. She had refused all visitors until her neighbor found her collapsed in her house after making her promise to go to the doctors and had to call the ambulance. The ER determines that a portion of her colon is dead. Bad news. She refuses all medical intervention besides pain management.
January 3rd: I go to the hospital with flowers for a visit. Things look bad.
January 4th: My great auntie Elinore dies. We did find out in the course of things that she was really 95. Now a lot of people brush you off when you tell them that your 95 year
old auntie died; they say "oh she had a good life" or 'she was so old." You know what? that really doesn't help. I KNOW she was old, I KNOW she had a good life. But she was very fit and feisty and was living in her own house up until the end. This was unexpected. I know the woman wasn't immortal, but still, this is not what we expected at all. And it wasn't easy, we were all still sad, especially my father, as she was really his last close relative. She was a wonderful lady. Oh yeah, she could play favorites and drive you crazy, but she totally loved us, and she was amused by most everything we did, as you can see in this old snapshot (it's a smile on her face, I swear :) ):January 5th-9th: Life goes by in a haze. We have to deal with nasty extended family throughout the funeral arrangements. We're not looking forward to the funeral.
January 10th: "The Funeral." My last remaining great aunt arranges to have a "family viewing" of the body before the wake begins. As far as I recall, Aunt Elinore never wanted anyone looking at her dead body. Creepy! My sister and I wait outside the room until the casket is shut, despite the glares of family (not immediate family, they were like "right on, do what you think is right.) The wake was a triumph for our family though, because it was clear that we, despite the black cloud that the extended family tries to send over our family, despite the fact that we don't carry as much weight as they do (in their opinion) and despite the fact that certain cousins call my father the "black sheep" of the family (HA!) were the ones who really KNEW our Aunt. The wake was held in two rooms where the dividing wall had been slid back. Half of the room was the extended Maine family, the other half was our entire family and many many friends who knew and loved Aunt Elinore. Not that it was a competition, but we were winning. On the was to Mass, we were escorted by four Massachusetts State Police motorcycles. Ooo-rah, as my dad would say. It was badass and I know A.E. was looking down from the heavens thinking the same thing, especially when we brought East Milton Square to a DEAD STOP. It makes me laugh just thinking about it. The mass was lovely, I was so pleased that it was after being to so many impersonal funerals, the priest really put a nice touch on it. The
re was still a lot of Catholic things that I feel weird about (no offense to anyone, seriously, it's just what you're used to) but all in all, a lovely mass. The burial was, you know, a burial. Straightforward and simple. We then returned to Aunt Elinore's house, which was kind of weird, but most practical. There was, to our surprise, plenty of food and well-organized. I caught up and met a lot of family members and had great conversations with them. THe executor of the estate (don't even get me STARTED) was fairly well behaved and informed my sister and I that we were inheriting jewelry. Uh, OK. It was a very long day, and much beer was consumed. When we got back home, these flower
s were waiting for us, plus a box containing my new digital camera. I shamelessly snap pictures of Lily for half the night because he is so damn cute.January 11th - just chillaxin'
January 12th. THE DAY OF INFAMY. I wake up at 5 with my stomach burning. Stoooopid freakin' heartburn, I think, and roll over. Amy wakes me at 7. "How do you feel?" she asks. "Why?" "Because Dad is throwing up in the bathroom." I sit up and hear my father vomiting. He's never ever sick and he has a stomach made of steel and dragons. As soon as I sit up I realize I don't feel so good. "How are you?" I ask Amy. "Ummm. Ok I think, queasy, but not real bad." "I'm going to call Mom" I tell her. I call my mom's work number from my cell. It rings forever, no one picks up. Amy realizes that this means she's probably at home. We go into our parent's bedroom and my mom is in the fetal position. "Up since two, vomiting, diarrhea" she says. "The soup?" I ask, referring to what we
had for dinner last night. "No" she says, "this is Maine." In one horrible minute we realize that Aunt Elinore had been in Maine for Christmas, where the family was sick with"flu." Stomach flu. She came home and was sick - what if she was sick with a virus and THEN had a colon problem? What if her throwing up was really the stomach bug? And what if the cousins didn't CLEAN her house before having everyone over?? Phone calls confirmed it. Here's who got sick: all four of u
s, my grandparents, my aunt, my dad's best friend, his wife, his daughter, my dad's cousin from Connecticut, his wife, his daughter, my cousins from Florida, who actually stayed in Auntie's house. Here's who didn't get sick: Everyone from MAINE. Food poisoning? No. Norovirus? Yes.14 hours later we emerge from the fog of vomiting, nausea and diarrhea. We're all dehydrated and weak. My dad brings us the elixir of life, ginger ale. I sleep like a rock for 12 hours.
January 12th. We're all on the mend. I still feel sick, but am improving, eating and drinking. I've broken all the blood vessels around both eyes, my sister has broken blood vessels in her cheeks - they're from the heaving, there was a lot of it. We take it slow, but we have to clean, we have to strip beds and bleach floors and do everything we can to eradicate the virus from our house.
January 13th-15th: Mad recovery time. We do nothing but laundry and watch football.
January 16th: HAIRCUT AT LIQUID. Love it. Love the guy who did it too, he made me tea and told me that 90's movies were full of bad hair. He rocks :)
January 18th: First day of second semester classes. I rise at 6am, get dressed and get out the door at 6:30. It's freezing cold, but there's hardly any traffic and I zip right to the subway station. Sunrise is beautiful, and there is nothing foreboding about this day. Somewhere betwee
n North Quincy and JFK, my train derails. Ha, no problem, it'll move in a few minutes right? Wrong. For an hour, I glance at my watch and wipe my sweaty palms on my pants. I don't make it to Tufts until 10 minutes after my class ends. Damn.January 19th: I make it to Davis Square on time. I spend 10 minutes waiting for the Tufts shuttle. Nothing. I start to walk to school. Time starts running out. I start running. I get to class beet red, sweaty and winded. The class is full of catty girls, catty bio nerd girls, the worst kind of undergrad. I have the worst luck and I start to wonder what the heck I did to make karma take such a bite out of my ass.
The bonus? I have a digital camera to document almost all of it.
So things are back on track I think. I feel optimistic about next week. Maybe it's because January is nearly over! Maybe it's because I have faith in the team that's gonna win it big this week. Maybe it's because I'm just a hopeless optimist, I don't know! It's been a hectic three weeks though, and I just KNOW it's got to get better than this. That being said, I'm going to go home and run errands. It's pay day and I'm feeling rich. Maybe I'll even go to JoAnn's for fabric. Such a bad girl. Happy Weekend all!
Thursday, January 18, 2007
5. Be a Sage
Be a sage. Ha. I try not to give out advice to people. It keeps you out of trouble. That way if someone asks you for advice and you wave them away saying "oh no, ask someone else" you won't be blamed if something goes wrong. In my new little book I'm following, #5 is "Be a Sage" so here I go. I am going to give you advice on 3 things, even if they sound like stupid Cosmo column. They're three things we used say in Kenya "love life and the pursuit of happiness." My friend Kristie would play a mock news reporter and interview one of us, pretending that some nerdy scientific discovery we had made. "OK," she'd say, tossing her nonexistent flowing hair (she gave herself pixie-like buzz cut a few weeks intot he program. "Allison" she'd say in a fake cheery voice "everything you know about lovelifeandthepursuitofhappinessGO!!"
So.
Here it is.
Love
Don't be afraid of long distance relationships. Oh yeah, everyone tells you "don't do it." Everyone told me not to. My boss said to my face "those things never last." My coworker used to cry about how she was 45 minutes away from her boyfriend. I am a healthy 4 1/2 hours away from New York City and I am telling you to do it. Don't let distance stand in your way. It's hard, I won't lie to you. Sometimes it's so hard I can't even explain the way it'll hurt when you can't tell someone something the second you get home, or curl up in bed next to them or just see their face in person. As a pretty pratical person I myself have been shocked to find this flutter of loneliness in the weirdest places - I'm an indepedent woman, why is my heart sinking when I see a couple on the train sharing a newspaper? or after I watch a sad episode of Grey's Anatomy and I just want to climb in bed and have someone to snuggle up to? I'm in a relationship I shouldn't feel anything. But it gets you. Communication is hard. Yeah, there's the phone, there's email. And there are about a million ways to misinterpret what gets said on either one. Sometimes you just can't fix it either, what gets said - one of you might not even understand that something has gone badly and the other is left on the other end of the computer or the phone completely hurt and upset while you go about your life as normal laughing with coworkers, going to the soda machine or catching the 11 o'clock news. Then there's the not seeing each other for what seems like forever. And when you do see each other there's never enough time. All this and I'm telling you to go for the long distance thing? In truth, it's probably not really harder than having a relationship with someone down the street or even in your own house. They all take work, they take time and effort. The long distance thing is just a factor out of what could be many factors affecting any couple. And it's a factor worth dealing with when you've found the one.
Life
I've lived nearly a quarter of a century, which is no time at all, yet freaky when I phrase it that way. What have I learned? Love your old relatives. They might drive you crazy, but suddenly one day they'll be gone and so will your link to the past. Visit them and ask them questions and make them tell you their stories. Don't hold a grudge. I'm a bit Irish, I know the old adage "we Irish forget everything but the grudges." DON'T DO IT. It's so not worth it. If you have a grudge and don't want to have one anymore, may I recommend a friend named Captain Morgan. I got sh*tfaced on Captain and Cokes one night and resolved all the old grudges I had. And while those old friends aren't my friends anymore, we smoked the figurative peace pipe that night. Since then, I haven't had any grudges, not real ones. I'm not saying "don't get mad" because hell, I have a temper, a good one too (must be the damn Irish in me, though the Scots are stubborn) and sometimes you just need to get that anger out, but don't hold on to it. Not to sound like a cheesy email chain letter, but if you died tomorrow would you want people to come to your funeral? I would. I'd want a whole freakin' parade, I'd want the traffic to stop my funeral would be so big. Not gonna happen if you hold too many grudges. I truly believe that forgiveness is divine. Not to sound too, you know, hippie-ish or whatev. Take care of your body. I will pause so you can roll your eyes. Seriously, I work in a cancer hospital where people who've taken care of themselves their whole lives get sick. So why should you take care of yourself when you could live it up because you might get cancer anyways you ask? Because for every person who took care of themselves there are 5 who did not. They smoked too much, drank too much, didn't exercise, had a very very bad diet. They didn't go to the doctor when something felt funny, or they had a headache or a weird mole or a strange bump. Please, take care of your body, because it the end you can lose everything, but as long as you have your health, you've still got something. Don't be afraid to treat your body to a bonus once in a while either. A pedicure, even the cheap ones you find in the city can make you feel like a new person.
Pursuit of Happiness
Do something you love, or at least work towards whatever means it takes to do that thing. Don't languish in a thankless job for years only to become bitter and washed up. One of the best teachers I had in high school was a man who turned 38 and realized that he didn't want to sell office furniture anymore, he wanted to be a teacher. He cried when we, his first students, graduated. I think he knew then for sure that he had made the right choice and the going back to school for undergrad courses and slogging through the masters work at night was totally worth it. I bitch and moan about working where I do sometimes, and I complain about hauling my butt to grad school, but while I'm there I can't help but think "this is my way out." Find your way out, and go do something you love. Even if you have to go back to school, even if it will cost you money. Even if it's something small, like taking the train to work everyday instead of driving because it raises your blood pressure THAT MUCH. Do it. Your happiness will be worth every penny. Find something good to do for the world. It can be small. It can be picking up a piece of trash. It can be planting a tree. It can be giving a cold person your gloves or sharing an umbrella. These things make 2 people happy instead of 1. Maybe your small thing will turn into something big. Paying for my Kenyan friend's sister's school fees was one of the best things I ever took on. So many people have contributed to her schooling that I can't even name them all and enough people have heard about it that maybe, just maybe, they'll try something like that on their own. It makes me feel good to know I'm helping someone. Even going to Foster Parrots makes me feel good. There's a bird there now who is so lonely, and just needs to be loved. It is gratifying to be needed, even by a little bird who just wants you to put your hand under his wing and hold his little body close to yours so he can feel your warmth and your heartbeat and finally feel safe and wanted. Stand up for what you believe in and don't let people walk all over you, but also be willing to listen to the opinions of others. Be willing to change your mind. Be willing to change. Never stop being your own person.
I think my sagely work is now finished. Maybe you will laugh at my advice but maybe you won't. It's all I have to give to you really. Maybe it will get you to think or write your own bits of wisdom down to share with all of us.
So.
Here it is.
Love
Don't be afraid of long distance relationships. Oh yeah, everyone tells you "don't do it." Everyone told me not to. My boss said to my face "those things never last." My coworker used to cry about how she was 45 minutes away from her boyfriend. I am a healthy 4 1/2 hours away from New York City and I am telling you to do it. Don't let distance stand in your way. It's hard, I won't lie to you. Sometimes it's so hard I can't even explain the way it'll hurt when you can't tell someone something the second you get home, or curl up in bed next to them or just see their face in person. As a pretty pratical person I myself have been shocked to find this flutter of loneliness in the weirdest places - I'm an indepedent woman, why is my heart sinking when I see a couple on the train sharing a newspaper? or after I watch a sad episode of Grey's Anatomy and I just want to climb in bed and have someone to snuggle up to? I'm in a relationship I shouldn't feel anything. But it gets you. Communication is hard. Yeah, there's the phone, there's email. And there are about a million ways to misinterpret what gets said on either one. Sometimes you just can't fix it either, what gets said - one of you might not even understand that something has gone badly and the other is left on the other end of the computer or the phone completely hurt and upset while you go about your life as normal laughing with coworkers, going to the soda machine or catching the 11 o'clock news. Then there's the not seeing each other for what seems like forever. And when you do see each other there's never enough time. All this and I'm telling you to go for the long distance thing? In truth, it's probably not really harder than having a relationship with someone down the street or even in your own house. They all take work, they take time and effort. The long distance thing is just a factor out of what could be many factors affecting any couple. And it's a factor worth dealing with when you've found the one.
Life
I've lived nearly a quarter of a century, which is no time at all, yet freaky when I phrase it that way. What have I learned? Love your old relatives. They might drive you crazy, but suddenly one day they'll be gone and so will your link to the past. Visit them and ask them questions and make them tell you their stories. Don't hold a grudge. I'm a bit Irish, I know the old adage "we Irish forget everything but the grudges." DON'T DO IT. It's so not worth it. If you have a grudge and don't want to have one anymore, may I recommend a friend named Captain Morgan. I got sh*tfaced on Captain and Cokes one night and resolved all the old grudges I had. And while those old friends aren't my friends anymore, we smoked the figurative peace pipe that night. Since then, I haven't had any grudges, not real ones. I'm not saying "don't get mad" because hell, I have a temper, a good one too (must be the damn Irish in me, though the Scots are stubborn) and sometimes you just need to get that anger out, but don't hold on to it. Not to sound like a cheesy email chain letter, but if you died tomorrow would you want people to come to your funeral? I would. I'd want a whole freakin' parade, I'd want the traffic to stop my funeral would be so big. Not gonna happen if you hold too many grudges. I truly believe that forgiveness is divine. Not to sound too, you know, hippie-ish or whatev. Take care of your body. I will pause so you can roll your eyes. Seriously, I work in a cancer hospital where people who've taken care of themselves their whole lives get sick. So why should you take care of yourself when you could live it up because you might get cancer anyways you ask? Because for every person who took care of themselves there are 5 who did not. They smoked too much, drank too much, didn't exercise, had a very very bad diet. They didn't go to the doctor when something felt funny, or they had a headache or a weird mole or a strange bump. Please, take care of your body, because it the end you can lose everything, but as long as you have your health, you've still got something. Don't be afraid to treat your body to a bonus once in a while either. A pedicure, even the cheap ones you find in the city can make you feel like a new person.
Pursuit of Happiness
Do something you love, or at least work towards whatever means it takes to do that thing. Don't languish in a thankless job for years only to become bitter and washed up. One of the best teachers I had in high school was a man who turned 38 and realized that he didn't want to sell office furniture anymore, he wanted to be a teacher. He cried when we, his first students, graduated. I think he knew then for sure that he had made the right choice and the going back to school for undergrad courses and slogging through the masters work at night was totally worth it. I bitch and moan about working where I do sometimes, and I complain about hauling my butt to grad school, but while I'm there I can't help but think "this is my way out." Find your way out, and go do something you love. Even if you have to go back to school, even if it will cost you money. Even if it's something small, like taking the train to work everyday instead of driving because it raises your blood pressure THAT MUCH. Do it. Your happiness will be worth every penny. Find something good to do for the world. It can be small. It can be picking up a piece of trash. It can be planting a tree. It can be giving a cold person your gloves or sharing an umbrella. These things make 2 people happy instead of 1. Maybe your small thing will turn into something big. Paying for my Kenyan friend's sister's school fees was one of the best things I ever took on. So many people have contributed to her schooling that I can't even name them all and enough people have heard about it that maybe, just maybe, they'll try something like that on their own. It makes me feel good to know I'm helping someone. Even going to Foster Parrots makes me feel good. There's a bird there now who is so lonely, and just needs to be loved. It is gratifying to be needed, even by a little bird who just wants you to put your hand under his wing and hold his little body close to yours so he can feel your warmth and your heartbeat and finally feel safe and wanted. Stand up for what you believe in and don't let people walk all over you, but also be willing to listen to the opinions of others. Be willing to change your mind. Be willing to change. Never stop being your own person.
I think my sagely work is now finished. Maybe you will laugh at my advice but maybe you won't. It's all I have to give to you really. Maybe it will get you to think or write your own bits of wisdom down to share with all of us.
For Kristie because I've finally answered her "questions"
Thursday, January 11, 2007
4. Exploit the Youth
So today I am supposed to be posting about something a kid said to me and then using that for my blog. Honestly though, I'm so rarely around children these days I actually have nothing much to contribute. The last time I was around young children was when I visited Jam over New Year's. I did exploit them, however, in order to beat Jamaal at the game of "Sorry" so I could lord my board game superiority over him for one short day ;)
Anyways. I was hoping to have pictures to post, but I don't. In their infinite greatness BH got my camera to me OVERNIGHT. I paid $6 extra for 2-day shipping and they still manage to get it to me overnight. I love those guys! What's even nicer is that despite the fact that we were gone from our house for a total of 12 straight hours yesterday, no one touched the box on our porch. It's not like we live in a high-crime neighborhood or anything, but it's always nice to get your stuff unharmed. So yeah, I have no pictures because I brought all the camera stuff to work except for the CD that came with the camera, containing all of the important software you need to jive camera and computer. I mean maybe it's not absolutely necessary, but I'll be honest, I don't have the technological balls to plug my brand new camera into my computer without the software and go against everything the manual is telling me! I do have my camera with me though and I think I'll make a little felted case for it and carry it pretty much everywhere I go. You never know what you're going to see.....
In place of camera stuff, I've been contriving to-do lists in my head - sure there are the extraordinarily boring ones like: dust, vacuum everywhere and under everything, clean bird cages and fish tank, but I like the more exciting ones: make felted camera case, make 2 house warming presents, work on log cabin quilt for class. Or the even better ones: "Stuff I want to buy" New and bigger cage for Lily, camera tripod, fabric for St. Patrick's and Valentine's pajamas. Now that's the good stuff.
I'm going to cut this post off now. I'm so tired. Yesterday's funeral events were exhausting and like I mentioned, took us away from home for 12 hours. There's something about the whole process that is incredibly stressful, even though you really can't do anything. The person has died, the funeral home has pretty much taken over the burial process, the minister/priest/shaman does the funeral prayers, etc, and then someone else takes care of putting the casket in the ground and everything. So why am I so tired? I think it's the emotional aspect of it, plus meeting a crapton of cousins, trying to be fakely nice to so many people ( though I pat myself on the back for it. I may not like some of my extended family and I might not like what they did to people like my father and grandmother, but I'll be damned if they could ever go through life describing me as anything but "lovely" grrr!!) and then getting to fly solo to pick up everyone's dinner that just wiped me out for good. Of course, I have bookclub tonight :P I might go only for a while though. Grey's is on with a new episode!
Anyways. I was hoping to have pictures to post, but I don't. In their infinite greatness BH got my camera to me OVERNIGHT. I paid $6 extra for 2-day shipping and they still manage to get it to me overnight. I love those guys! What's even nicer is that despite the fact that we were gone from our house for a total of 12 straight hours yesterday, no one touched the box on our porch. It's not like we live in a high-crime neighborhood or anything, but it's always nice to get your stuff unharmed. So yeah, I have no pictures because I brought all the camera stuff to work except for the CD that came with the camera, containing all of the important software you need to jive camera and computer. I mean maybe it's not absolutely necessary, but I'll be honest, I don't have the technological balls to plug my brand new camera into my computer without the software and go against everything the manual is telling me! I do have my camera with me though and I think I'll make a little felted case for it and carry it pretty much everywhere I go. You never know what you're going to see.....
In place of camera stuff, I've been contriving to-do lists in my head - sure there are the extraordinarily boring ones like: dust, vacuum everywhere and under everything, clean bird cages and fish tank, but I like the more exciting ones: make felted camera case, make 2 house warming presents, work on log cabin quilt for class. Or the even better ones: "Stuff I want to buy" New and bigger cage for Lily, camera tripod, fabric for St. Patrick's and Valentine's pajamas. Now that's the good stuff.
I'm going to cut this post off now. I'm so tired. Yesterday's funeral events were exhausting and like I mentioned, took us away from home for 12 hours. There's something about the whole process that is incredibly stressful, even though you really can't do anything. The person has died, the funeral home has pretty much taken over the burial process, the minister/priest/shaman does the funeral prayers, etc, and then someone else takes care of putting the casket in the ground and everything. So why am I so tired? I think it's the emotional aspect of it, plus meeting a crapton of cousins, trying to be fakely nice to so many people ( though I pat myself on the back for it. I may not like some of my extended family and I might not like what they did to people like my father and grandmother, but I'll be damned if they could ever go through life describing me as anything but "lovely" grrr!!) and then getting to fly solo to pick up everyone's dinner that just wiped me out for good. Of course, I have bookclub tonight :P I might go only for a while though. Grey's is on with a new episode!
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
3. Give Us Something
This post is supposed to be about meaningful gifts.
I come from a family that believes that Christmas, Birthdays, Mother's Day, Father's Day all warrant gifts, and also anniversaries - though gift giving and receiving is limited to the couple whose anniversary is taking place. I say this because I was verbally assaulted at work when I said that I was shocked that some families didn't do any gifts. I just never thought about it, OK? You would've thought I said "I think Saddam Hussein was a good person" LOL.
Anyways, because my family is into gifts (not ridiculously into it, like "Honey I got your a Mercedes for your sweet 16) I've been blessed enough to receive many, many meaningful gifts throughout my 25 or so years. So many that I can't even list them. I would just go on and on. I think I will try and mention just 10 for now, sticking with the top ten list, but these are in absolutely no order whatsoever.
1. Books. I've received books since basically before I was born. My mom is a librarian, and started out as a children's librarian, and she is a children's book guru. She bought books starting maybe even before she married my father, and then handed them down to me and my sister. I have two bookcases full in my room, plus some stacked here and there, nevermind the rubbermaids I have in storage full of books. I am grateful for these gifts because I swear to God that that's what made me a good student and an imaginative person - reading and being read to from a very young age. I was given thick 100+ page books as soon as I could read, as was my sister. My mom and her librarian best friend were always feeding us books - my sister could read by the time she was 4 because of all the books in the house, as well as the fact that I was learning to read when she was 4 and she hijacked my mad skillzzzzz. Anyways, we both turned out to be fairly normal, imaginative and smart ladies. Thanks to my parents and the books they gave us.
2. Savings bonds. My great aunt Elinore gave us savings bond twice a year every year. When I was little, I didn't get it. Now that I am older, OH HOW I GET IT. They're maturing in the fireproof safe in my basement. For as long as they need to.
3. Cameras. I think I first got a camera for Christmas in 1990. Since then I've bought 2 and been given 3. See the thing is that I believe that I've observed so much by looking through the lens. I'm hyper by nature, and while I don't have ADD or anything, when I'm on vacation I want to take everything in. Photography slows me down. Some people complain that they miss the sights and sounds when they're responsible for the pictures, and resent the fact that they're the one carrying the camera. Not me. It gives me time to pause and observe. For nearly 3 months, my eye was pasted to the viewfinder of my dad's Canon AE-1 Program, while I traversed the Kenyan countryside. I saw things no one else did, I'm sure of it. I had a nice zoom on there, and I would zero in on something and just watch it. I took time to compose shots, sunsets, savannas. I got up early to go on birdwalks and game drives because I knew the light would be good. You wouldn't think that a hunk of metal and wind-bits could impact your life like that, but it has.
4. Sewing machine. I got it for Christmas this year. I'm ecstatic because this means I can make gifties for other people, it makes me so happy!
5. Quilt. A girl I went to school with made me a quilt for graduation. It was one of the single-most touching gifts I've ever received. The amount of time and effort she had put into it all the while maintaining her busy schedule at school AND keeping it all a secret amazed me. It is on my bed every single night.
6. Birds. My grandparents bought me 2 parakeets for my 17th birthday. I think it was my 17th. Those sweet little things brightened my day. Plus they were the pathway that led to us letting Lily infiltrate our household, led the way to volunteering at Foster Parrots, and brought Lucy and Charlie Brown, the handmaiden and butler to Satan into our blessed home, LOL.
7. Jewels. Oh yeah, Allison's gotten some jewelry in her life. My birthstone is a diamond, and I always thought that this was an inaccessible stone. Not at all. I've received some beautfiul things with tiny, perfect and tasteful diamonds on them. Some of my favorite jewelry is fake though: I treasure my grandma Kitty's pearls and pearl ring. Fake as hell, but they were hers and she loved them and that's why I love them. I also treasure the necklace my friend made for me. I was shocked when I opened it, it was so lovely, and then it was all the more special when she said that she had designed it and made it herself. My sister gave me a necklace of baltic amber for graduation. I love it. She also bought me a black pearl drop this Christmas. Jam's gifts of jewelry are always stunning. I consider myself especially lucky for his exquisite taste in jewelry - so many women complain of receiving a blender or dust buster for Christmas. Jam gives me jewelry, and nice jewelry too, unique and creative things, like black pears and tanzanite. Gorgeous.
8. My painted box. My friend Rachel surprised the hell out of me one birthday while we were in college with a painted box. On the top of it there is a scene of rolling hills and a giraffe striding across the plains. THEN SHE TOLD ME SHE PAINTED IT HERSELF. Where had she been hiding this hidden talent? I DON'T KNOW! I adore it though, it's always had a special place in my room, right near my computer where I can see it every day.
9. College. Ok, it's not a gift as in a gift you put under the tree, but my parents paid for a huge chunk of it. I don't even want to know what they could've done with the money instead - we'd probably have a vacation home and 3 new cars, but they made sacrifices and helped me out a crapton and never once said "You can't go to Smith because it's too expensive." That makes me smile.
10. The small things. People have given me any number of little things over the years that have touched me more than they know. My cousin Catherine gave me a small pendant shaped like a swallow - I adore it. During finals senior year, my neighbors Krystal and Kate made me an African animal mobile out of paper. My friend Melu hunted down some Nars "Chinatown" nail polish when we were at school and gave it to me for Christmas, no easy feat since the nearest place selling Nars was probably 50 miles away. My "big sister" in college gave me a mini music box that plays "when you wish upon a star" which I still wind and listen to once in a while. My sister brought me back a lacquered box from Spain which is one of my dearest treasures.
It doesn't take much to make me happy but my friends and family still put so much thought and kindness into their gifts. I'm so lucky :)
I'll post some pictures later I hope. With the present I bought myself today: a Fuji FinePix F20 digital camera. BOOYAH!
I come from a family that believes that Christmas, Birthdays, Mother's Day, Father's Day all warrant gifts, and also anniversaries - though gift giving and receiving is limited to the couple whose anniversary is taking place. I say this because I was verbally assaulted at work when I said that I was shocked that some families didn't do any gifts. I just never thought about it, OK? You would've thought I said "I think Saddam Hussein was a good person" LOL.
Anyways, because my family is into gifts (not ridiculously into it, like "Honey I got your a Mercedes for your sweet 16) I've been blessed enough to receive many, many meaningful gifts throughout my 25 or so years. So many that I can't even list them. I would just go on and on. I think I will try and mention just 10 for now, sticking with the top ten list, but these are in absolutely no order whatsoever.
1. Books. I've received books since basically before I was born. My mom is a librarian, and started out as a children's librarian, and she is a children's book guru. She bought books starting maybe even before she married my father, and then handed them down to me and my sister. I have two bookcases full in my room, plus some stacked here and there, nevermind the rubbermaids I have in storage full of books. I am grateful for these gifts because I swear to God that that's what made me a good student and an imaginative person - reading and being read to from a very young age. I was given thick 100+ page books as soon as I could read, as was my sister. My mom and her librarian best friend were always feeding us books - my sister could read by the time she was 4 because of all the books in the house, as well as the fact that I was learning to read when she was 4 and she hijacked my mad skillzzzzz. Anyways, we both turned out to be fairly normal, imaginative and smart ladies. Thanks to my parents and the books they gave us.
2. Savings bonds. My great aunt Elinore gave us savings bond twice a year every year. When I was little, I didn't get it. Now that I am older, OH HOW I GET IT. They're maturing in the fireproof safe in my basement. For as long as they need to.
3. Cameras. I think I first got a camera for Christmas in 1990. Since then I've bought 2 and been given 3. See the thing is that I believe that I've observed so much by looking through the lens. I'm hyper by nature, and while I don't have ADD or anything, when I'm on vacation I want to take everything in. Photography slows me down. Some people complain that they miss the sights and sounds when they're responsible for the pictures, and resent the fact that they're the one carrying the camera. Not me. It gives me time to pause and observe. For nearly 3 months, my eye was pasted to the viewfinder of my dad's Canon AE-1 Program, while I traversed the Kenyan countryside. I saw things no one else did, I'm sure of it. I had a nice zoom on there, and I would zero in on something and just watch it. I took time to compose shots, sunsets, savannas. I got up early to go on birdwalks and game drives because I knew the light would be good. You wouldn't think that a hunk of metal and wind-bits could impact your life like that, but it has.
4. Sewing machine. I got it for Christmas this year. I'm ecstatic because this means I can make gifties for other people, it makes me so happy!
5. Quilt. A girl I went to school with made me a quilt for graduation. It was one of the single-most touching gifts I've ever received. The amount of time and effort she had put into it all the while maintaining her busy schedule at school AND keeping it all a secret amazed me. It is on my bed every single night.
6. Birds. My grandparents bought me 2 parakeets for my 17th birthday. I think it was my 17th. Those sweet little things brightened my day. Plus they were the pathway that led to us letting Lily infiltrate our household, led the way to volunteering at Foster Parrots, and brought Lucy and Charlie Brown, the handmaiden and butler to Satan into our blessed home, LOL.
7. Jewels. Oh yeah, Allison's gotten some jewelry in her life. My birthstone is a diamond, and I always thought that this was an inaccessible stone. Not at all. I've received some beautfiul things with tiny, perfect and tasteful diamonds on them. Some of my favorite jewelry is fake though: I treasure my grandma Kitty's pearls and pearl ring. Fake as hell, but they were hers and she loved them and that's why I love them. I also treasure the necklace my friend made for me. I was shocked when I opened it, it was so lovely, and then it was all the more special when she said that she had designed it and made it herself. My sister gave me a necklace of baltic amber for graduation. I love it. She also bought me a black pearl drop this Christmas. Jam's gifts of jewelry are always stunning. I consider myself especially lucky for his exquisite taste in jewelry - so many women complain of receiving a blender or dust buster for Christmas. Jam gives me jewelry, and nice jewelry too, unique and creative things, like black pears and tanzanite. Gorgeous.
8. My painted box. My friend Rachel surprised the hell out of me one birthday while we were in college with a painted box. On the top of it there is a scene of rolling hills and a giraffe striding across the plains. THEN SHE TOLD ME SHE PAINTED IT HERSELF. Where had she been hiding this hidden talent? I DON'T KNOW! I adore it though, it's always had a special place in my room, right near my computer where I can see it every day.
9. College. Ok, it's not a gift as in a gift you put under the tree, but my parents paid for a huge chunk of it. I don't even want to know what they could've done with the money instead - we'd probably have a vacation home and 3 new cars, but they made sacrifices and helped me out a crapton and never once said "You can't go to Smith because it's too expensive." That makes me smile.
10. The small things. People have given me any number of little things over the years that have touched me more than they know. My cousin Catherine gave me a small pendant shaped like a swallow - I adore it. During finals senior year, my neighbors Krystal and Kate made me an African animal mobile out of paper. My friend Melu hunted down some Nars "Chinatown" nail polish when we were at school and gave it to me for Christmas, no easy feat since the nearest place selling Nars was probably 50 miles away. My "big sister" in college gave me a mini music box that plays "when you wish upon a star" which I still wind and listen to once in a while. My sister brought me back a lacquered box from Spain which is one of my dearest treasures.
It doesn't take much to make me happy but my friends and family still put so much thought and kindness into their gifts. I'm so lucky :)
I'll post some pictures later I hope. With the present I bought myself today: a Fuji FinePix F20 digital camera. BOOYAH!
Monday, January 08, 2007
2. Fess Up
Ahhh I took a long blogging break there. It's because my Great Aunt Elinore passed away. Or died because "passed away" is an annoying term. The person died. As in DEAD, DEATH. No need to pretty it up! Anyways, my auntie died and there was just not too much to say about it. I actually wanted to write a nice tribute to her, but I'm not ready yet (because I need a picture, which means I'll have to 1. find one of her, which will be hard 2. scan it, which is tricky because I am lazy). For now we'll leave at this: she was awesome - 95 years old and living in her own house. She was independent and feisty to the very end, and we'll miss her, but I'm glad my Grandma Kitty has someone to hang with again, as they were fairly inseparable when GK was alive.
Anyways, it's confession time according to my book.
Here are some confessions:
1. I crap in the work bathroom. Now that's not really anything scandalous, but few people would confess that they actually do it, kind of like peeing in the shower, which I have done before, but not with anywhere near the regularity with which I crap at work. I DO. I AM A WORK CRAPPER.
2. I pick my nose from time to time. Ok, this is so foul and germy, I totally understand. But I have allergies and the nostrils, they get clogged. Sometimes I have a nostril emergency and must evacuate. This is especially true in places with a lot of dirt - in Africa, we all picked our noses. They don't really have kleenex in pocket packs over there, snot rockets are a way of life, and when there's a lot of dirt up there, you do what you need to.
3. I tend to be a non-violent person. I don't kill bugs in my house if I can help it. I wouldn't hit a child unless they did something dangerous. As a rule, I hate hunting and guns make me nervouse. That being said, my father bought a 10 gauge automatic shotgun yesterday. He let me hold it and I raised it to my shoulder and looked down the barrel. I was overcome with a feeling of power and felt slightly god-like "the power of life and death lies in my hands." In that moment, I wanted to do something I thought I never would: learn how to shoot a gun and kill defenseless animals. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME!!!!
4. Sometimes I drive rudely on purpose simply to uphold the reputation that Massachusetts drivers are a**holes.
5. I farted in the middle of the transcendentalist exam in 10th grade. It was me. I confess. I also fart on the train and at work. Often. I'm sure this isn't a real confession cause people know I do it.
6. Sometimes after I go to the gym, I go to the store and buy a coke and a Snicker's bar, cause hey, I earned it! Luckily I stopped buying Drake's pies after I found out they contained 90% of your daily saturated fat. That's just gross.
7. I hit the garage with my car waaaaaay more times than I actually admitted.
8. I wear pants that say "dry clean only" nearly every day (not the same pair, many pairs that are dry clean only.) Truth is, unless I get something obvious on them, they're only dry-cleaned about twice a year. ewww!
9. While on the bus or train, I put my headphones in my ears and pretend to listen to my iPod while I really listen to other people's conversations. So far I have heard about: the entire mental history of several psych ward patients at a nearby hospital (thank you, ladies on peter pan bus) and who really robbed a local restaurant, in addition to countless diatribes against various people, ranging from the president right down to so and so's ex boyfriend.
10. I have voted Republican. It's true. I did it because I can't commit to either party - they're both evil.
There are my 10 confessions. No murders, no robberies, pretty mundane stuff. Maybe I'll go do something bad later to convince myself I lead a wild and crazy life, but probably not, hahahah.
Anyways, it's confession time according to my book.
Here are some confessions:
1. I crap in the work bathroom. Now that's not really anything scandalous, but few people would confess that they actually do it, kind of like peeing in the shower, which I have done before, but not with anywhere near the regularity with which I crap at work. I DO. I AM A WORK CRAPPER.
2. I pick my nose from time to time. Ok, this is so foul and germy, I totally understand. But I have allergies and the nostrils, they get clogged. Sometimes I have a nostril emergency and must evacuate. This is especially true in places with a lot of dirt - in Africa, we all picked our noses. They don't really have kleenex in pocket packs over there, snot rockets are a way of life, and when there's a lot of dirt up there, you do what you need to.
3. I tend to be a non-violent person. I don't kill bugs in my house if I can help it. I wouldn't hit a child unless they did something dangerous. As a rule, I hate hunting and guns make me nervouse. That being said, my father bought a 10 gauge automatic shotgun yesterday. He let me hold it and I raised it to my shoulder and looked down the barrel. I was overcome with a feeling of power and felt slightly god-like "the power of life and death lies in my hands." In that moment, I wanted to do something I thought I never would: learn how to shoot a gun and kill defenseless animals. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME!!!!
4. Sometimes I drive rudely on purpose simply to uphold the reputation that Massachusetts drivers are a**holes.
5. I farted in the middle of the transcendentalist exam in 10th grade. It was me. I confess. I also fart on the train and at work. Often. I'm sure this isn't a real confession cause people know I do it.
6. Sometimes after I go to the gym, I go to the store and buy a coke and a Snicker's bar, cause hey, I earned it! Luckily I stopped buying Drake's pies after I found out they contained 90% of your daily saturated fat. That's just gross.
7. I hit the garage with my car waaaaaay more times than I actually admitted.
8. I wear pants that say "dry clean only" nearly every day (not the same pair, many pairs that are dry clean only.) Truth is, unless I get something obvious on them, they're only dry-cleaned about twice a year. ewww!
9. While on the bus or train, I put my headphones in my ears and pretend to listen to my iPod while I really listen to other people's conversations. So far I have heard about: the entire mental history of several psych ward patients at a nearby hospital (thank you, ladies on peter pan bus) and who really robbed a local restaurant, in addition to countless diatribes against various people, ranging from the president right down to so and so's ex boyfriend.
10. I have voted Republican. It's true. I did it because I can't commit to either party - they're both evil.
There are my 10 confessions. No murders, no robberies, pretty mundane stuff. Maybe I'll go do something bad later to convince myself I lead a wild and crazy life, but probably not, hahahah.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Why I am a bad person
Because when I saw this, I cackled:
BIO 0041 GENERAL GENETICS F ( 1.0)*
Awesome, a F, a new academic low for me. I've never failed anything before. Aw, well, first time for everything I suppose! This is why I'm not crying about it, just for clarification:
BIO 0041 GENERAL GENETICS F ( 1.0)*
Awesome, a F, a new academic low for me. I've never failed anything before. Aw, well, first time for everything I suppose! This is why I'm not crying about it, just for clarification:
* COURSE NOT APPLIED TO CURRENT PROGRAMSo there it is, my beautiful and lovely F! Unfortunately I do not have my ecological modeling grade yet. I'll keep you posted!
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
1. Reign Supreme
Maggie Mason writes in "No One Cares What You Had For Lunch"
"All of us should just learn to tolerate stupid people. But what if we didn't have to? If you ruled the world, things would be better, at least in a few small ways."
Here are the Top 10:
1. Strollers would have a dedicated car on the subway, thus making all other cars stroller free.
2. Spike heels would be programmed to collapse when in contact with human flesh.
3. Bostonians would get over themselves and learn to use the Charlie Card and shut up about it.
4. People with SUV's would stop driving them. If not, they'd at least learn to park them without having to go back and forth 7 or 8 times to get into a parking space.
5. The counters in the women's bathroom would be heated so the excess water that's always hanging around on the counters in ladies' rooms would evaporate. That way if you made the mistake of leaning against the counter while washing your hands, you wouldn't have a water line across the front of your shirt.
6. Tampons would come in a box of 100 for 3.99. I am so damn sick of tampon boxes getting smaller and smaller while the price stays the same (4.79 for a box of 18? Are you sh*tting me?!)
7. There would be a gate at the end of the self-checkout line that would prevent the next person from encroaching the register before the person already there finishes their transactions. It would only open when the current purchaser takes their receipt.
8. People who leave their carts in the parking lot or take up handicapped spaces when they don't have handicapped tags and aren't handicapped would be flogged. Ok, not flogged, that's too violent. Maybe just shocked with an electrical current when they tried to get into the grocery store??
9. There would be a book drop that led to the local library in every home.
10. We'd have Mountain Day, just like Smith.
"All of us should just learn to tolerate stupid people. But what if we didn't have to? If you ruled the world, things would be better, at least in a few small ways."
Here are the Top 10:
1. Strollers would have a dedicated car on the subway, thus making all other cars stroller free.
2. Spike heels would be programmed to collapse when in contact with human flesh.
3. Bostonians would get over themselves and learn to use the Charlie Card and shut up about it.
4. People with SUV's would stop driving them. If not, they'd at least learn to park them without having to go back and forth 7 or 8 times to get into a parking space.
5. The counters in the women's bathroom would be heated so the excess water that's always hanging around on the counters in ladies' rooms would evaporate. That way if you made the mistake of leaning against the counter while washing your hands, you wouldn't have a water line across the front of your shirt.
6. Tampons would come in a box of 100 for 3.99. I am so damn sick of tampon boxes getting smaller and smaller while the price stays the same (4.79 for a box of 18? Are you sh*tting me?!)
7. There would be a gate at the end of the self-checkout line that would prevent the next person from encroaching the register before the person already there finishes their transactions. It would only open when the current purchaser takes their receipt.
8. People who leave their carts in the parking lot or take up handicapped spaces when they don't have handicapped tags and aren't handicapped would be flogged. Ok, not flogged, that's too violent. Maybe just shocked with an electrical current when they tried to get into the grocery store??
9. There would be a book drop that led to the local library in every home.
10. We'd have Mountain Day, just like Smith.
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