Vachement Bien!

Yesterday was amazing. Meg took me to the South End to explore, and have fantastic food and fun.

The whole area is beautiful, old brownstone buildings with wrought iron banisters, old alley ways, and gorgeous trees just starting to turn pink with flowers.

Red door/blue door rivalry:



Trees in bloom everywhere:



An alley that looked to perfect not to take a photo:



We ate at The Butcher Shop, which is a restaurant owned by Barbara Lynch (home of the 16$ hot dog!). Food was amazing, salad, cheese plate, bread and honey. Bread and honey sounds simple, but this was perhaps one of the best things I have ever eaten. See the aftermath below:



Boston looks a lot like NYC when it gets warm -- people everywhere. Everywhere. Dogs, kids, bicycles, skateboards, just great energy all over the place:



More flowers in Brookline:



And two more....first, Marriott Copley. Need I say more?



Second, weiners.

Secret Photos.

There are two people that I want to get photos of, for all of you to see.

1. The Rascal. Need I say more?

2. Scratch off guy.

My house is the last on the street, the only thing closer to the corner is a little market. There is a very odd man who goes into the store, buys a bunch of scratch off tickets, and walks in front of my house to scratch them off. He huddles over the city garbage can, and scratches furiously. I am not talking about one ticket, I am talking about tens and tens and tens of tickets at a time.

It is really bizarre, because he is trying desperately to hide his scratching. When I walk by, he sort of perks his head up, and covers up the tickets, and tries to look around and act casual.

There isn't anything casual about a guy hanging out, staring into the garbage can.

He scratches and scratches, and goes back in for more. And hides behind the building at the trash can, and scratches more and more.

Sometimes I miss him, but I see the aftermath. He never puts the tickets into the trash can, he leaves them on the ledge. Why does he do that?

He tries to hide the act, so why not hide the evidence also?

I don't think he ever wins. I wonder if you can be addicted to scratch offs.

Or to a Rascal.

Thank you for dying, Jesus!

Because I got some tasty food out of it, and even better fun.

In case you haven't figured it out, Meg is an amazing cook. Look at this feast she prepared for us!

Green beans, mushrooms, and almonds. Turns out I love green beans.



Deviled eggs, that ladies aren't supposed to eat (but we did, and we loved every minute). One had smoked salmon, one all kinds of tasty herbs, both = happiness.



This was the sacrificial lamb, covered in the marinade before cooking. It was stuffed with chorizo stuffing. Somehow I missed the potatoes! Those were fantastic, smokey potatoes. I am sorry, poor potatoes.



This is what it looked like after being cooked and cut. You can see the stuffing in the middle


This is what it all looked like together, before entering my belly.



Isn't that beautiful?

And last but not least, the cake. 2nd best dessert I have ever had, the first, of course, being the bleu cheese souffle.



First Easter in Boston was amazing. Lots of wine, lots of laughs, food coma, and a bite of lamb for Mogwai. Life is good!

Voila! Chicken Parmesan!

Here is my finished chicken parmesan!



Oh wait, no, that's Meg's fantastic fabulous corned beef! She made this for St. Patrick's Day. It had potatoes, turnips, cabbage, carrots, and of course, the beef. The green on top is the mustard sauce she whipped up. It was absolutely perfect.

Trolleys and Chicken. Yum.

Today I had the best Market Basket trip ever. Why? Because now that the snow has melted, I could break out my new shopping trolley and buy proper, heavy-type groceries!



That is what it looks like. A little odd, but it made climbing that huge hill with 50lbs of groceries suddenly bearable.

Overstock has all different kinds, like these, these, and these.

It was full to the top when I was done shopping:



It is really deep, so you can fit a lot of everything, and it is insulated a bit since it is canvas, so your food won't thaw right away:



Everyone in Boston needs one. For a mere $26, you will save $1,000,000 on cab fare in the years you live here, and you will save an incalculable amount of sanity.

And yes, those are Swiss Cake Rolls, and I'm not ashamed. They taste SO good.

I bought everything to make chicken parmesan, but not the super fancy, super good Meg-type way. But it is better than the super lazy way (buying it from Mike's and bringing it home).

The problem is I don't have proper cookware. All I had were three teeny tiny frying pans that were discarded when Nana bought all her fancy stuff years ago.

Consequently, I had to cook one breast in each pan. Bizarre! But I needed enough food to last the whole week.



So that's what it looks like when *I* cook chicken parmesan!!! And yes, the stove is filthy. It was like that when I moved in. Anyone know how to properly clean a stove that hasn't been cleaned since approximately 1920?

And thanks to Nakes and Papa for the help with the chicken parmesan! I just wish I would have remembered to buy parmesan. Chicken parmesan sans parmesan. Oh well.

More Video

More video for your enjoyment:

St. Patrick's Day in Bean Town

First St. Patrick's Day in the most Irish city in the US...it was really fun. We went to the parade in Southie, and now you must look at the photos and tell me how sad you are that you didn't get to make it up here.

These are the police horses just hanging out:



Why was Star Wars in the parade? Who knows.





Guys in kilts...think they were firefighters.



Guys shooting guns. It was really loud, the kid next to me cried and had to go home, which was great for me, because he was blocking my sight.



Welcome to Miami:






For Bob, yet again:



Old police car that I wish I owned:



MIT solar car:



I really love tanks:





Tin man. This was the iron worker's union's float, such a great idea:



Oh crap!



Not him!



Bill O'Reilly, ruining the parade. Apparently he thinks gays and lesbians have no place in the parade because the parade is a religious sacrament. So wearing booty shorts and striped leggings is appropriate for the sacrament, but not gays and lesbians? This guy. Ugh.



Bagpipers, can't remember who they were specifically, but there were firefighters and police from all over the nation, and somehow there seem to be quite a few police and firefighters who are really good at the bagpipes.



They're mostly all playing the same song -- we thought it was the Irish National Anthem, but it is actually Scotland the Brave. Bizarre. Scotland does not equal Ireland.



These are all different bagpipers.



Gorgeous horses, the same kind Nana and I saw at the Boston Commons.



Tiny, funny fire trucks:



Marines:

Spring Sprang...for a Minute Anyway...

Can you believe this? The little tiny plant buds are trying to come out. We went from 15 degree days to 60 degree days in the span of a week. It has been so nice lately, minus the impromptu wintery mix yesterday.

These little buds give me so much hope!



Mogwai and I sat outside for an hour, it was so nice to soak up the vitamin D. That is me, and my house, basking in the sun.



This is what Mogwai loves best, and she got to do a lot of it! This one's for Papa! I guess you were right all that time!



The other day, this mess happened on my street. There were fire trucks from one end to the other, and you can see the cops parked sideways blocking off the whole street. It lasted about an hour. I couldn't smell anything, and was praying it wasn't my house on fire, because I don't have renter's insurance. I still don't know what it was, it didn't make the silly Somerville paper.

Un-freaking-believable.

Today, after spring had finally seemed to have broken, we had a nor'easter. Think hurricane, but snow instead of rain. I woke up and had to brush about eight inches of snow off my car. By the time I was done, it was already covered again.

Then I went to the bus stop, and the bus was very, very late. There is no shelter there, so this snow was literally suffocating me, despite the fact that I had on a hat, tucked my hair in, and wore a gaiter. It was whipping all around in all directions, going in my eyes, up my nose, and into my lungs. It was miserable. That is when I started getting angry.

Then I got to the train station, which is outside. There were no trains. It took forever, maybe another 15 - 20 minutes for a train to show up. Again, snow literally choking me, I was getting angrier by the second. Angry, and massively sad.

Why did I move to Boston? Dumbest thing ever. Why would anyone willingly put themselves through this misery? Why would anyone do this? Why is this state even open? Why isn't the whole place shut down? Who lives like this?

I was so mad at myself by the time I got to work, my pants were wet up to my knees, my hair soaking, I was fuming, mad at myself, mad at my city, mad at my life, wishing I had thought this through better. I had just had enough.

When I got to work I was nearly crying, I told everyone to leave me alone, tears nearly came about 10 times, I kept running downstairs for air and cigarettes, hoping no one would be there.

The absolute worst thought was my car. I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown trying to figure out what I was going to do with my car when I got home. I knew it would be plowed in, and I wasn't smart enough to buy a shovel when the weather was warmer. You all know how I have a tendency to obsess over things...well I did. I obsessed all day. I felt so helpless, had no idea what I was going to do, figured I would have to let my car get towed, but had no way at all to pay a towing bill.

I nearly cried in the cab, on the train, and when I got home and saw my car, I thought it was over. I was done.

Today was the first day I actually thought I was going to have to give it all up, and move back home.

I took Mogs out, and the caretaker guy was out there. I sort of gave him an earful of my woes (poor guy!!), how was I going to dig my car out, I don't even own a shovel, blah blah, and he did the most amazing thing.

He said, you know, I have my shovels out on my porch every day. You can use them whenever you want, just always make sure to bring them back.

WHAT?!? I was shocked! Absolutely floored. I could not believe he just said that.

He could see how upset I was, and said, you know, you should just go inside, get warm, get a good night's sleep, and worry about it tomorrow. But I knew tomorrow the snow would be ice, and it would be 10x worse. Everyone else was digging, so I knew it was probably best I just got out there and did it. And he said, yeah, I didn't really want to mention that, I figured you could use some rest.

The guy parked behind me was digging out his car. He asked me, "Are you going to dig your car out now?" And I said, "Well, yeah, I mean, I guess, but I just don't know. I have no idea, this is just so overwhelming."

And he said, "Well, I actually need your car to move in order for me to get out, so I will be willing to help you dig out if you will move your car."

WHAT?!? Double whammy? I absolutely could not freaking believe it. Yes it was kindness with a selfish motive, but it was KINDNESS all the same.

He helped me dig out, told me which roads were salted best, and how to get back to my street to park on the plowed side.

I could not believe it. I could not believe this horrible, hideous day, the day that brought me to the brink of my breaking point, turned out so amazing.

It was a miracle. It really was. I cannot believe it, I cannot believe the span of emotions one person can feel in a day.

I am happy with Boston again. Really happy. So happy that now I think I will finally cry, but it will be super happy tears of relief, joy, comfort, and restored faith in humanity.

Mogwai's Big Day.

Mogwai made it big. She got a Tempurpedic bed. Here she is, breaking it in.



When I make it big, I will have one, too. I have Tempurpedic envy.

Duuuuude...Bob's got a job!

Here's a Pork Slap for you!



And a huge pile of meat.



You know you wish you moved here! But congrats on the new job!

The Way to a Woman's Heart...

...is through Battery Mart.

I came home after a very, very hellish day to see from the corner there was yet ANOTHER note taped to my door! I'm sure you all remember the prior anonymous note fiasco. So from the corner to my door I was wracking my brain, "What did I do this time?!? Who could I have possibly offended?" I was furious.

As I got closer, I saw it was a delivery sticker. Then I got even MORE furious, because I had specifically told the shipper of said item to make 100% sure no signature was required.

Then I got up close, and saw this:



Such an amazing delivery person! He/she was clearly concerned about leaving it, as my porch is wide open, so he/she secretly hid it around the corner so no one would steal it! BEST DELIVERY DRIVER EVER! I wish I knew who it was, I would send him/her chocolate oranges, even if he/she did get my name wrong on the form. I am neither "Dias" nor "Russel." Oh well. There was no denying it, though, the package was mine! All mine!

Dun dun dun!!! Here is the package. I was so excited, I had to take a photo.



So excited!!! So close to happiness!!! Just moments away!



Who knew happiness was SO heavy? It took me forever to get the package undone. But here it is!!! In all its glory! My happiness, and it only cost $93 including shipping!



Isn't it gorgeous? Isn't it lovely? I cried a tear. I really did. This is going to change my life! Suck it MBTA!

*Side note, Battery Mart is amazing. Everyone should shop there. Not only did they call to verify my identity and that I wasn't using a stolen card, they were extremely nice and courteous about it. Some red flags had popped up with the move and all. Then they packed this battery so carefully, and it arrived within two days of when they sent it. Plus, it was the exact battery I needed. Auto Zone had one that wasn't the one I needed (not AGM, and if you trunk mount a non-AGM battery your car will explode), but they said it was (but wouldn't agree to pay damages if my car exploded), and it was well over $100. Thank you Battery Mart!!

Thankfully I had gone to the hardware store and got these items, in line with Bob's very clear instructions. Bob has been very, very instrumental in me achieving my happiness, and I thank him profusely:



The last items I need to complete my project. In just a day or so's time, I will have a working automobile, and can drive to work, and avoid the heartbreak of my daily train ride.

Only one thing is missing.



I need a mumu.

X Marks The Spot

Ok, everyone knows I am a smoker. It is no secret. What everyone doesn't know is that I was used to paying less than $5 a pack in Texas. Before the $1 tax increase of 2006 or 2007, I paid about $3.50 a pack. Cigarettes are between $7.50 and $8.00 here. No joke.

AND there is no carton discount. In Texas, you might have paid about $5 a pack, but if you bought a carton, it was only about $38. $3.80 a pack. Here, a carton is $75 - $80.

I have gone everywhere near my house trying to find a discount. Everywhere. No one has them. I popped into this random gas station near the green line, and saw they had their promotional cigarettes right on display, so I decided it was time to stop being a brand snob, and do what I had to do. Smoke other premium brands, and pay less money.

The first experiment led me to Camel Lights, which wasn't a huge difference from Camel Wide Lights. They were on special 2 for 1, which meant only about $4 a pack. Very excited. I went back to this same place to get more several times, but eventually the promotion ended.

It was replaced with a promotion for Parliament lights, 3 packs for $15. Ok, $5 a pack. I can do that. And I did, the promotion never ended, it went on forever, and I stocked up at this same place every time I could.

I went there again for my trusty Parliament lights yesterday, and they were gone. I was devastated. I shamelessly made the clerk go through all his promotional cigarette deals to find one I could live with. They were all menthols, except for this:



That's right, PINK cigarettes. Dumbest thing ever. I think there was some controversy a few years back when these came out, you know, encouraging people to be trendy and smoke by offering pink cigarettes. Dumb. But they weren't Olympic Gold or whatever the unpremium brand offerings were, so I had no choice. Two for one, pink cigarettes.

Did I mention they are pink?

Anyway, so the clerk tells me, "So, what, you're like 17 then?"

"No, I'm 30."

"What?!? I say you must be 17 and you say no, I'm 30. I don't believe it."

"Yes, believe it. I am 30. How much will that be?"

He seems to be taking his time...

"So, how come you look so young then? What keeps you young?"

And I said, "Smoking." He didn't even bat an eye.

Then he started getting personal, "You got any kids?"

"No."

"Me neither, but I got a cat. You got a cat?"

"No. How much will that be?"

I pay the man, he gives me my change.

"When will you have the Parliaments again? Is that deal over?"

"No, they'll be here Thursday. They come every Thursday."

"Ok thanks, have a good night," I say, inching towards the door.

"So, where do you live?"

"Uhh....in Somerville."

"Where in Somerville?"

"Uhh just Somerville, I am new, I don't really know where."

"Oh where are you from?"

"Texas, thanks, have a good night!"

"Oh so you like the cold?"

Jesus Christ!!!

"No, not really. But I am getting used to it."

By this time I finally have gotten close enough to have my hand on the door.

"So, when are you coming back to see me?"

Fuck. I can never, ever, ever go there again. Ever. My discount cigarette haven is now off limits. One small sentence has made a huge dent in my life.

No Dunkin Donuts, no cheap cigarettes, what is left for me in this city?!?

Fine Jewelry, Rare Coins, and The Beantown Pub

I finally got to go where I have always, always wanted to go. The Beantown Pub. See the sign? The flashing lights? It makes me so happy!

The atmosphere was not bad, food not bad, beer selection pretty bad, but I had fun, and will go back. I really like the laid back, not so posh places. This place is not a dive bar by any means, but not quite so polished as most of the places in Beantown.



And this is what I saw when I was outside.



Falling ice? Really? Apparently. That's me in the shadow...yep! A shadow. It was nice and sunny yesterday, a big change. I never realized my bag was so huge. I should look into that.

Also, I finally figured out why Bob is too scared to move here:



And here is Mogs, breathing. You KNOW you miss her breathing noises.