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.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
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.
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.
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.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
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:
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
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.
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.
Monday, March 2, 2009
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.
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.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
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.
When I make it big, I will have one, too. I have Tempurpedic envy.
Monday, February 23, 2009
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!
And a huge pile of meat.
You know you wish you moved here! But congrats on the new job!
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
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.
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?!?
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?!?
Monday, February 9, 2009
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.
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.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
*Addendum.
I would also just like to say that at least 15 people watched me dig my car out, and didn't offer to help. This would never, ever happen in Texas. If you get a flat on the side of the road in Texas, someone stops to fix it for you. If you're moving, someone offers to carry your mattress. If they see a girl in any sort of distress, they stop and help. They carry your luggage for you. They carry your groceries. They call a cab on their own cell phone for you, using their own precious minutes. If you're stuck in a ditch, they help you get out. They say, "Hello, how can I help?"
They don't avoid all eye contact, and snicker as they walk by. They don't watch you from the window, and laugh.
They bring you a cup of coffee, they come in droves with their own shovels, they call their neighbors, and they dig you out -- smiling the whole time.
Once I saw a kid get in a wreck on my street in Dallas. So many people stopped to help, one guy even ripped off his UT shirt, and wrapped it around the bleeding kid's head. Do you know how important UT shirts are to people in Texas? But this anonymous bleeding kid was more important than his most prized shirt. So yeah, they literally do give you the shirt off their backs in Texas.
If you wrecked here, they would just honk, and tell you to move...while you were unconscious and bleeding, they would be screaming profanities at you for blocking the road.
Totally different world here.
They don't avoid all eye contact, and snicker as they walk by. They don't watch you from the window, and laugh.
They bring you a cup of coffee, they come in droves with their own shovels, they call their neighbors, and they dig you out -- smiling the whole time.
Once I saw a kid get in a wreck on my street in Dallas. So many people stopped to help, one guy even ripped off his UT shirt, and wrapped it around the bleeding kid's head. Do you know how important UT shirts are to people in Texas? But this anonymous bleeding kid was more important than his most prized shirt. So yeah, they literally do give you the shirt off their backs in Texas.
If you wrecked here, they would just honk, and tell you to move...while you were unconscious and bleeding, they would be screaming profanities at you for blocking the road.
Totally different world here.
Go If You Seek Yourself.
Yes, ok, having an MX5 in Massachusetts is stupid. Yes, people warned me about this. But when I first moved here, they told me there was no way to get to the office on public transportation, so I had to bring it with me. Then, of course, I discovered we have drivers. And now I have this 2,000 pound dead weight in my life.
I paid to park in a private parking space, $100 a month. The space is owned by a Masshole. He digs out everyone else's cars, and piles the snow on my car. I guess he thinks it is amusing, as he loves to watch me dig it out from his window, with his hot coffee in hand.
Today it took me SIX HOURS to get the car out. Six. It involved spending six hours outside in 20 degree weather, $50, a tow truck driver, tears, calls to my mommy, frostbite, blood, and a pair of men's cargo shorts, but I am OUT.
You think I'm kidding? That is just one of my bloody blisters.
I was paid up through today, and I refuse to give this man any more of my money, so I had no choice but to spend all effing day digging.
AND when I called the tow truck driver, he didn't even help me get out, he just gave me a jump, chuckled, said good luck, and drove off.
Every bone in my body hurts, I have a migraine, and I hate the world. I hope that man's penis gets bitten off in a freak escaped panther incident.
OH, but I did help Karma along a little, and now all that snow, every last bit of it, is now resting in HIS parking space. He can't park today, so he will have a really nice shock when he tries. He will have to shovel it all out. And no, I don't feel bad. What I feel bad about is that he felt it was ok to pile it all on my car in the first place.
I am screaming. Right now. Screaming. You guys might be able to hear me there in Texas it is so loud.
And this is what Mogs did while I died inside:
So cute.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Train Tourists.
That's my train up there, the D line. Somehow I wasn't on it that day, imagine that. Every other possible thing has gone wrong on that line since I have been here.
So...I was on the green line trying to make my way home when I saw them all, all these people in their black and yellow jerseys. Bruins fans riding the train to the game, too cheap to cough up the money for parking at the arena, clogging my route, and making a mess of things.
Now, these people do not normally ride the train. They are train tourists.
I ride the train every single day.
I got to Government Center to switch from my out of service train to a Lechmere train. Don't ask me why my train goes out of service every day at Government Center. The train can't make it the final four stops? Are you serious? Yes, apparently they are.
But I digress, the point is, I knew the Lechmere trains would be packed. It was a sea of yellow and black, hockey fans everywhere, chomping at the bit to get to North Station. They're loud, rowdy, pushy, and mean.
Sure enough, the Lechmere train pulls up, and it is packed. Packed! The windows are fogging up from all the nasty hockey fan breath. I expected some people to get out, but no one did. There was room enough for maybe two people to squeeze in.
Now, you have to remember, I am already 1.5 hours into my nightmare commute home at this point. And the Lechmere train only comes about every 30 minutes. There was no way in hell I was going to let this train leave without me on it.
A very large hockey fan squeezed in before me, I squeezed in after him, and there was no more room, but a woman behind me was trying hard to get on. Not happening.
He had the NERVE to say to me, "You cut her off! Honey, she cut you off! That lady cut you off!"
No, sir, you need to get something straight here. You are a train tourist, this is my train.
Got that? MY TRAIN.
And if you had better believe that if it comes down to me, a daily commuter, 1.5 hours into her commute home, and your train tourist wife, it is going to be me.
I win. Always.
(And the next time someone in black and yellow, or solid green, asks me if the Lechmere train stops at North Station, I am going to smile, and say, "No, the Lechmere train runs express.")
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Birthday.
Today is Steve's 30th birthday! Last night we had an a really nice dinner to celebrate. We had a proper Southern meal -- sweet potato soup, collard greens cooked in bacon, corn fritters, a Vernor's glazed ham, and an amazing work of art, aka cake, done by Megs.
Aside from the cake, my favorite was corn fritters. I had never heard of such a thing, and I wish I had taken a photo, but you wouldn't have been able to tell from the photo that they tasted amazing!
This was the ham, you can see just a bit of the collard greens on the side. If you have never tried a Vernor's glazed ham, you really should! Here is the recipe, to give you an idea.
This is the perfect cake:
And this is what it looked like on the inside:
It was layers of cake, buttercream frosting, and chocolate ganache. Somehow there was espresso in there somewhere as well. I took some pieces home on the T, and everyone kept asking me if they could have some. No!
Random stranger, "Wow, that cake sure does look good!"
Me, "Yeah, doesn't it? See you later!"
Aside from the cake, my favorite was corn fritters. I had never heard of such a thing, and I wish I had taken a photo, but you wouldn't have been able to tell from the photo that they tasted amazing!
This was the ham, you can see just a bit of the collard greens on the side. If you have never tried a Vernor's glazed ham, you really should! Here is the recipe, to give you an idea.
This is the perfect cake:
And this is what it looked like on the inside:
It was layers of cake, buttercream frosting, and chocolate ganache. Somehow there was espresso in there somewhere as well. I took some pieces home on the T, and everyone kept asking me if they could have some. No!
Random stranger, "Wow, that cake sure does look good!"
Me, "Yeah, doesn't it? See you later!"
Monday, January 19, 2009
So, my work environment is kind of like junior high, and I am the new kid. I overheard two guys whispering and giggling about these free lint brushes we got from some provider, and how I really needed one, because of my apparent dog hair issue. It wasn't very nice, or mature, but it did get me thinking that I could really put a bit more effort into my work appearance.
Yesterday I washed all my work pants and cardigans. I took time to steam them, iron them, and hem them as needed. It took a really long time, and was really tedious. I even used two different types of lint brushes to ensure every single hair, feather, whatever was gone.
This morning I was looking pretty sharp, I thought. There was a lot of snow on the way to the bus stop that reached well up onto my pant legs, but I brushed it off, and all seemed fine and dandy.
I finally got to Riverside Station after many T delays. I noticed they had sanded instead of salted, and the platform and the stairs were a huge sloshy mess. I was very concerned with getting the muddiness on the hems of my freshly perfected pants, so I was walking very carefully to the stairs.
But then, you guessed it, I fell anyway. My feet went right out from under me, and I fell right on my ass, right down the stairs, in all the muddy messy puddles. I got the wet, sandy, dirt/snow mixture all the way from my rear end to my feet, and was soaked through all three pairs of pants I had on.
So today I am dog hair free, but covered in mud. My juvenile co-workers are not impressed.
Friday, January 16, 2009
"I think punching someone in the face over and over is all that would make me feel better." - Courtney
I completely agree with that statement. It was -2 at some point today, according to Weather.com. The wind chill was minus one million. ONE MILLION.
Did you know snot can freeze inside your nose? It can.
My suit of armor consists of:
Thick cotton knee-high socks, three pairs minimum
Cotton leggings, two pairs minimum
Work pants
Tank top, two minimum
Work shirt
Cardigan
Hoodie
Jacket
Gloves, two pairs minimum (Have you ever had to wear two pairs of gloves at once? Not fun.)
Winter boots
Hat
Ear band thing or ear muffs, might have to wear both at the same time tomorrow
Hat
That is what I wore today. All of it. At once.
At home, I wear two pairs of knee highs, one pair of leggings, flannel pj bottoms, tank top, long sleeved long john type shirt, flannel pj tops, and I am still freezing.
Why?
Because THIS is what my apartment feels like:
I have central heat. You can see in the photo the top shows that I have it set at 75 degrees. You can see at the bottom that despite the fact that I have it set at 75, it is only 56 degrees in here.
Note that I also have two space heaters on, plus a wall heater, plus a traveling portable heater (Mogwai).
What kind of madness is this?
Did you know snot can freeze inside your nose? It can.
My suit of armor consists of:
Thick cotton knee-high socks, three pairs minimum
Cotton leggings, two pairs minimum
Work pants
Tank top, two minimum
Work shirt
Cardigan
Hoodie
Jacket
Gloves, two pairs minimum (Have you ever had to wear two pairs of gloves at once? Not fun.)
Winter boots
Hat
Ear band thing or ear muffs, might have to wear both at the same time tomorrow
Hat
That is what I wore today. All of it. At once.
At home, I wear two pairs of knee highs, one pair of leggings, flannel pj bottoms, tank top, long sleeved long john type shirt, flannel pj tops, and I am still freezing.
Why?
Because THIS is what my apartment feels like:
I have central heat. You can see in the photo the top shows that I have it set at 75 degrees. You can see at the bottom that despite the fact that I have it set at 75, it is only 56 degrees in here.
Note that I also have two space heaters on, plus a wall heater, plus a traveling portable heater (Mogwai).
What kind of madness is this?
Blog Spam.
Meg taught me how to make macaroni and cheese. I can't decide if it was easy or difficult, but it tasted absolutely amazing. Even with onions.
I know what you're thinking, "Uhh...what? You ate that?!?" Yes, I did. Even smelly green sprouts taste good cooked in bacon!
This is where I really want to go. I don't know why, I just really like the sign, and the phrase, Bean Town.
I know what you're thinking, "Uhh...what? You ate that?!?" Yes, I did. Even smelly green sprouts taste good cooked in bacon!
This is where I really want to go. I don't know why, I just really like the sign, and the phrase, Bean Town.
Abortion Donuts.
Yay free donuts! Oh wait, they're abortion donuts!
Mmm...I love abortion donuts. Even better when they're free. Too bad there is no Krispy Kreme here.
Mmm...I love abortion donuts. Even better when they're free. Too bad there is no Krispy Kreme here.
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