Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Battle of the Bay? Not so much.
Last Saturday, Krissy, me, and eight other friends went to Game 2 of the weekend-long Giants/Athletics baseball game in San Francisco’s "AT&T Park." (By the way, did you guys know this is the third name this ballpark has had in its six-year tenure? Previous names include: "PacBell" and "SBC Park". That’s your trivia lesson for the day).
Anyway, I had suggested months earlier that we try to get tickets for the game because—at least in my mind—it was what I call, one of the "rivalries West". (You should all know there’s only one rivalry East and if I have to tell you what it is just stop reading right now because you don’t belong here. Go ahead. Run along. Git!).
So, Krissy totally delivers and gets 10 tickets in the bleachers. Great! Not only will I be there to experience another baseball rivalry, but I’ll get to do so from the cheap seats (which, at least in Fenway, is where all the true fans sit and thus, where all the fun is). We arrived a little after the game started, got some eats and settled into our seats. …
…actually, there’s a little side story here. I get to the front of the line at the concession stand with a $20 in hand, greet the lady with a smile and a hello, only to be told I can’t order anything because she doesn’t have any change to give me. I need exact change, she tells me. I was so stunned I didn’t quite know how to react. Some of Krissy’s friends were in line next to me and were equally stunned. It’s not that hard to get change from the register next to her, is it? So, what? I’m supposed to wait in one of the other two lines now? If it’s the quarters, lady, you can keep them. Shortly after freaking out at me, she got some change from the register next to her and took my order…and was able to give me change. Bizarre experience. Just bizarre…
We get to our seats (located behind right/center field) and I was psyched to see a healthy mix of Giants and Athletics sitting next to each other. Yes!! Let the taunting begin!! But there was no taunting. If there was, it was quickly erased with a pat on the back and a "I’m just messing with you, bud." Huh? What the hell is this? No trash talk? No hot-heads? One fight? One? You call this a rivalry? God, I found myself siding with the Oakland fans (even though, I’m a Raider-hater), cuz at least they were willing to dish it out. Giants fans just weren’t scooping it up. Geez, if San Francisco had been playing the Red Sox, I probably would have made someone cry.
There were some Giants fans trying to start trouble, namely this one kid in the row in front of us. He took aim at riling up the seemingly plastered old Oakland fan next to him, but it was wasted on what I am assuming was his bad hearing. Not a peep. All this guy did was stand up and start a very slow, "L-e-t’-s g-o O-a-k-l-a-n-d" chant and a contribute a random "yeah" every once in a while. He was in his own little world.
Up until the eighth inning, I really thought I might have to start checking pulses. But this was when the Giants started coming back from a once 7-2 deficit and closed the gap 7-5. So people started showing signs of life. Things got exciting in the ninth when the Giants put two on with one out. One batter later, the Giants won on a walk-off three-run homer to make it an 8-7 final. Even then, all the crowd could muster was a lukewarm, "yay" said Special Ed-style.
I guess being a diehard fan of a team involved in quite possibly the greatest rivalry in all of sports, this game was a little disappointing. I mean, we’re talking about a girl who didn’t want to get out of her car yesterday afternoon listening to the 12th inning of the Sox/Phillies game with Big Papi at the plate for fear she might miss something big within the 15 seconds it took to get from her car to her TV. Saw a few other people doing the same thing. And our waiting was not in vain because Mr. Clutch hit the game-winning, walk-off single and the Sox won their ninth straight. That, I couldn’t have missed. Next time San Francisco plays Oakland? That I can miss.
Ah, it’s good to be home.
Monday, June 26, 2006
Fly American: A "Special" airline.
Until recently, I’ve had the best luck when traveling. My flights always left on time, the rides were pleasant. No complaints, really. But lately, I’ve been having not so good luck on planes. My last trip to Vegas on America West was most disappointing, leaving very late from Boston. Both of my flights to and from San Francisco this past weekend left nearly an hour late. What gives?? It’s not going to stop me from flying, but I just hope the Gods of the air will help a sista out next time!!
Left for SF to visit my sister, Krissy, last Wednesday. Is it just me, or are people REALLY dumb when traveling? Case in point: The self check-in option. This was developed by airlines to make checking in a very quick and easy process. But for some of the people I ran into, you would have thought it was like having to solve one of the proofs on the chalkboard in the movie "Good Will Hunting" (like that obscure reference, Krissy?).
We’re all in line and people weren’t moving to the next available machine. Just standing there. I hate being the one to tell people what to do, but I felt compelled to make the line move so I mentioned to the guy in front of me—who was staring off into space, apparently—that there were two machines available. "Huh?", he replied. "Are you trying to check in? Because there’s some machines available." "Oh, thanks," he said. So with that, we both proceed to the open machines, which were fortunately right next to each other (picking up my sarcasm?). I quickly slide my credit card and seconds later, almost have my boarding pass in hand when I hear, "E-ticket number? I don’t have my E-ticket number!" Of course, it was the genius next to me. "Just slide your credit card," I said in an annoyed tone. "Oh," he once again wisely replied. By the time he’d gotten his card out of his wallet, I was already gone.
I get to the gate with time to spare only to board it 15 minutes later than expected. They call my group and I’m literally stopped with one foot inside the ramp. It then occurs to me that I must be on a "special" plane. My assumption was confirmed a few minutes later when I finally reached the aisle. There they were, people taking their precious time to load 50 shopping bags into the overhead bins, nonchalantly remove their jackets, fold them up, and lay them atop their bags, then slowly lift the pillow and blanket off their seats and finally sit down…20 minutes later, I sat down. 45 minutes later, we left. Rest of the flight was fine, thank God!!
…The way back, was a different story. Again, we left 45 minutes later than expected because of crappy weather in Boston. Why when we are 5 1/2 hours away from Boston do we have to wait 45 minutes in SF is beyond me. But I guess that’s why I don’t fly planes for a living.
Anyway, the best way to describe this flight is by describing the people sitting within the vicinity of me.
1) The Over-the-top helper guy.
2) The Father and his Idiot 8-year-old son.
3) The Alcoholic.
4) The Adorable baby and her very good Mom.
Over-the-top helper guy was sitting in the row next to me in the middle seat. At first, his willingness to help others makes you think he’s a nice guy. However, after a few minutes you see he’s really overdoing it. He's like that know it all kid in your elementary class that you just couldn't stand. Here’s a few examples:
Nice: Taking the coffee cup from the Mom with the adorable baby while she settled in. Over-the-top: Saying, "here, let me take her" while the Mom tries to sit down. (Yeah, like she’s really going to hand her baby over to a complete stranger. Obviously, she declined).
Nice: Pointing out to me that someone had left the overhead bin above me open. Over-the-top: Telling me I should shut it because of turbulence, then pointing out who left it open. (Wow, thanks dude!! You saved my life!! Three gold stars for you!!).
The Father and his Idiot 8-year-old son were sitting in the two seats next to me (Dad in the middle, Son in the window). As we’re leaving, the Dad tells his son as we’re taxing out of the gate backwards that this is also how we’re flying. The Idiot son believes him. "Dad, we’re going forward, we’re going forward," he says moments after we start making our way to the runway. I rolled my eyes but really want to say, "No shit, captain obvious!" (I guess you see now why I haven’t yet—nor never will—have a child. I don’t find stuff like this cute at all).
Then, when the flight attendants come by with the drink cart and ask what the kid wants. He wants orange soda, which they don’t have. The flight attendant then goes through the entire list and the kid decides he just wants water. Hours later when they do the second beverage service, another attendant asks what the kid wants to drink. He asks, "What do you have?" This lady goes through the entire list—the very same one he heard hours before—and decides he wants orange juice. Did he think he was going to hear orange soda this time? Did he think the flight attendants had some shuttled in mid-air, just for him? God, what an idiot! I'm sure there was more idiotic speak, but I must have missed it thanks to my I-Pod.
The Alcoholic was sitting diagonally across from me, two rows up on the aisle. Didn’t hurt anyone, wasn’t obnoxious at all, but I couldn’t help but notice he was drinking profusely. Waited for the first beverage service to start, but didn’t stop until we landed. Kept getting up to purchase Heineken cans from the flight attendants and complimented them by taking swigs out of a nip of Dewars in between sips. Strange, but nice guy. He did reach up and grab the very good Mom's laptop from the overhead bin without her even asking. I think over the top helper guy was jealous!
Adorable baby and her very good Mom were sitting diagonally across from me, one row up. In short, the baby was interacting with me the entire flight. She was the cutest little thing and was so good on the plane. When she fussed, her Mom would get up, take her to the back of the plane, calm her down and come back with the kid asleep in her arms. I was in awe, literally….still doesn’t make me want to have a kid, though.
Anyway, that’s all on the planes. Sorry I’m a little long-winded, but I had to give you the most accurate description possible in order for you to really get the gist of my experience. Next up: Tales from my Trip, some of which will include, My Karaoke experience, Why the ride to the beach was so fun, Drunken escapades and finding a cab afterwards, and The Rivalry West? Not so much. Stay tuned!!
Left for SF to visit my sister, Krissy, last Wednesday. Is it just me, or are people REALLY dumb when traveling? Case in point: The self check-in option. This was developed by airlines to make checking in a very quick and easy process. But for some of the people I ran into, you would have thought it was like having to solve one of the proofs on the chalkboard in the movie "Good Will Hunting" (like that obscure reference, Krissy?).
We’re all in line and people weren’t moving to the next available machine. Just standing there. I hate being the one to tell people what to do, but I felt compelled to make the line move so I mentioned to the guy in front of me—who was staring off into space, apparently—that there were two machines available. "Huh?", he replied. "Are you trying to check in? Because there’s some machines available." "Oh, thanks," he said. So with that, we both proceed to the open machines, which were fortunately right next to each other (picking up my sarcasm?). I quickly slide my credit card and seconds later, almost have my boarding pass in hand when I hear, "E-ticket number? I don’t have my E-ticket number!" Of course, it was the genius next to me. "Just slide your credit card," I said in an annoyed tone. "Oh," he once again wisely replied. By the time he’d gotten his card out of his wallet, I was already gone.
I get to the gate with time to spare only to board it 15 minutes later than expected. They call my group and I’m literally stopped with one foot inside the ramp. It then occurs to me that I must be on a "special" plane. My assumption was confirmed a few minutes later when I finally reached the aisle. There they were, people taking their precious time to load 50 shopping bags into the overhead bins, nonchalantly remove their jackets, fold them up, and lay them atop their bags, then slowly lift the pillow and blanket off their seats and finally sit down…20 minutes later, I sat down. 45 minutes later, we left. Rest of the flight was fine, thank God!!
…The way back, was a different story. Again, we left 45 minutes later than expected because of crappy weather in Boston. Why when we are 5 1/2 hours away from Boston do we have to wait 45 minutes in SF is beyond me. But I guess that’s why I don’t fly planes for a living.
Anyway, the best way to describe this flight is by describing the people sitting within the vicinity of me.
1) The Over-the-top helper guy.
2) The Father and his Idiot 8-year-old son.
3) The Alcoholic.
4) The Adorable baby and her very good Mom.
Over-the-top helper guy was sitting in the row next to me in the middle seat. At first, his willingness to help others makes you think he’s a nice guy. However, after a few minutes you see he’s really overdoing it. He's like that know it all kid in your elementary class that you just couldn't stand. Here’s a few examples:
Nice: Taking the coffee cup from the Mom with the adorable baby while she settled in. Over-the-top: Saying, "here, let me take her" while the Mom tries to sit down. (Yeah, like she’s really going to hand her baby over to a complete stranger. Obviously, she declined).
Nice: Pointing out to me that someone had left the overhead bin above me open. Over-the-top: Telling me I should shut it because of turbulence, then pointing out who left it open. (Wow, thanks dude!! You saved my life!! Three gold stars for you!!).
The Father and his Idiot 8-year-old son were sitting in the two seats next to me (Dad in the middle, Son in the window). As we’re leaving, the Dad tells his son as we’re taxing out of the gate backwards that this is also how we’re flying. The Idiot son believes him. "Dad, we’re going forward, we’re going forward," he says moments after we start making our way to the runway. I rolled my eyes but really want to say, "No shit, captain obvious!" (I guess you see now why I haven’t yet—nor never will—have a child. I don’t find stuff like this cute at all).
Then, when the flight attendants come by with the drink cart and ask what the kid wants. He wants orange soda, which they don’t have. The flight attendant then goes through the entire list and the kid decides he just wants water. Hours later when they do the second beverage service, another attendant asks what the kid wants to drink. He asks, "What do you have?" This lady goes through the entire list—the very same one he heard hours before—and decides he wants orange juice. Did he think he was going to hear orange soda this time? Did he think the flight attendants had some shuttled in mid-air, just for him? God, what an idiot! I'm sure there was more idiotic speak, but I must have missed it thanks to my I-Pod.
The Alcoholic was sitting diagonally across from me, two rows up on the aisle. Didn’t hurt anyone, wasn’t obnoxious at all, but I couldn’t help but notice he was drinking profusely. Waited for the first beverage service to start, but didn’t stop until we landed. Kept getting up to purchase Heineken cans from the flight attendants and complimented them by taking swigs out of a nip of Dewars in between sips. Strange, but nice guy. He did reach up and grab the very good Mom's laptop from the overhead bin without her even asking. I think over the top helper guy was jealous!
Adorable baby and her very good Mom were sitting diagonally across from me, one row up. In short, the baby was interacting with me the entire flight. She was the cutest little thing and was so good on the plane. When she fussed, her Mom would get up, take her to the back of the plane, calm her down and come back with the kid asleep in her arms. I was in awe, literally….still doesn’t make me want to have a kid, though.
Anyway, that’s all on the planes. Sorry I’m a little long-winded, but I had to give you the most accurate description possible in order for you to really get the gist of my experience. Next up: Tales from my Trip, some of which will include, My Karaoke experience, Why the ride to the beach was so fun, Drunken escapades and finding a cab afterwards, and The Rivalry West? Not so much. Stay tuned!!
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Left Coast Preview
In less than 24 hours, I’ll be on a plane headed for the left coast!! San Francisco here I come. For those of you who don’t know, I’m going to visit my sister Krissy, whom I haven’t seen—in person, that is—since Christmas!! (She is, however, nice enough to e-mail me photos from her drunken escapades quite frequently. So at least I still knows what she looks like).
Anyway, the last time I went out for a visit was roughly two years ago. Krissy had just moved to the city from Los Gatos, where she had stayed with my Aunt Ann and Uncle Tim upon moving out from Boston to the left coast. While it doesn’t take much for the two of us to have a good time, I’m thinking things are going to be a lot better on this visit. Before, she wasn’t really yet familiar with the city. Now, she’s a freakin professional!!
She’s planned a whole weekend of activities for us, which I couldn’t be happier about. Some of the plans include:
** Karaoke at "The Mint" (this is a legit karaoke bar people. Needless to say, I did a serious warm-up session at my usual place "The Junction" in order to prepare. Last Wednesday, I sang a whopping four songs!! I’m so ready)!!
** Day at the beach and cookout in Los Gatos with Aunt and Uncle.
** Giants/Oakland baseball game at SBC Park. (Krissy and I took a tour of this place the last time I was out, but we didn’t get to catch a game because the Giants were away. This particular series with Oakland represents "The Rivalry" West. Of course, nothing compares to the rivalry east—Sox/Yankees—but this one comes close).
Those are just some of the highlights to what I’m sure will be a fabulous weekend of drunken fun!! Can’t wait!! I’m sure I’ll have lots of stories for you when I get back. I know you’ll be waiting with baited breath!!
Anyway, the last time I went out for a visit was roughly two years ago. Krissy had just moved to the city from Los Gatos, where she had stayed with my Aunt Ann and Uncle Tim upon moving out from Boston to the left coast. While it doesn’t take much for the two of us to have a good time, I’m thinking things are going to be a lot better on this visit. Before, she wasn’t really yet familiar with the city. Now, she’s a freakin professional!!
She’s planned a whole weekend of activities for us, which I couldn’t be happier about. Some of the plans include:
** Karaoke at "The Mint" (this is a legit karaoke bar people. Needless to say, I did a serious warm-up session at my usual place "The Junction" in order to prepare. Last Wednesday, I sang a whopping four songs!! I’m so ready)!!
** Day at the beach and cookout in Los Gatos with Aunt and Uncle.
** Giants/Oakland baseball game at SBC Park. (Krissy and I took a tour of this place the last time I was out, but we didn’t get to catch a game because the Giants were away. This particular series with Oakland represents "The Rivalry" West. Of course, nothing compares to the rivalry east—Sox/Yankees—but this one comes close).
Those are just some of the highlights to what I’m sure will be a fabulous weekend of drunken fun!! Can’t wait!! I’m sure I’ll have lots of stories for you when I get back. I know you’ll be waiting with baited breath!!
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Now that's more like it.
Had a very fun weekend, which only featured two days of rain thank you very much. Really since Sunday, the weather here has been absolutely beautiful. Not sure I even believe it. Here’s a weekend recap:
Friday:
Sox game 11:
Yes, I’ve been to 11 Sox games. My friends pretty much hate me, but I’m not sure why. I only bought some of the tickets before the season started. Since then, I’ve purchased a few on StubHub and even through the Sox site. It’s not that hard to do, people!!
Anyway, worked the day shift on Friday and met up with Jacks, Mom, and her friend Dori to pre-game. Jacks and I went to the Cask, Mom and Dori to the Baseball Tavern. We each have our places. I’ve been nice enough to compromise, however. I like to pre-game at Cask and post at the Tavern and/or Copperfield’s. Why? Because the both have an activity (pool table at Tavern/hoop at Copperfield’s). I find that after a game, I need an activity to keep me busy and also keep me from over-boozing. Most of the time, it works.
Jacks and I were supposed to sit in the grandstands, an area of the park I haven’t been to in over a year. We went up to an usher named Donna and she asked where we were sitting. I told her and Jackie jokingly quipped, "unless you have something better." To our surprise, Donna said she did and led us to folding chairs behind the lower box seats!!! This is an area for people in wheelchairs, but I guess there were unoccupied for the evening. They were great. We had a whole platform of open space in front of us, an unheard of scenario in Fenway. Usually, my knees are in my chest and I can hardly cross my legs!! In short, it was great!!
Sat next to a nice mother/daughter, Donna and Kennan. Kennan was graduating from high school and was on a senior trip. The rest of her class was stuck up in the grandstands, but I guess they were smart enough to talk to my new favorite usher too!! We chatted with them the entire game, which was a Sox win over Texas. I’m now 9-2 in games attended.
Why I like to beat guys at sports:
Long story short, because when I went up to the hoop machine at Copperfield’s, the guy who had just shot and who’s score was flashing told me "You can play, but you have to beat my 63." I was enraged inside for a couple reasons: a) I don’t need your permission to play. b) you assume because I’m a girl, I won’t even come close to 63. Instead of giving him my whole "apparently, you don’t know who I am" spiel, I just said "Oh, okay. I’ll try."
84 points later, his ass was grass!! "I think I beat your 63. Did I beat your 63?," I asked as he hung his head and got it bad from his friends. I’ll tell you, sometimes I just love being me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Saturday:
Worked. Won’t bore you with that.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sunday:
Mom picked me up and we drove up to East Bumm New Hampshire for my cousin Bernadette and Mike’s 25th Wedding Anniversary. I was one of two flower girls in their wedding, so I pretty much had to go. I was tired from working the night before, but was glad we went when we got there. Their daughters put together a very nice party for the pair and a good time was had by all.
Helped Jill put the finishing paint touches on our new blue, Red Sox dining room. Walls are a light blue and Red Sox photos/plaques/glasses/signs adorn the walls. It’s tastefully done and looks absolutely fabulous!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That’s all for this week. I haven’t been very funny lately and for this, I apologize. Things slow down considerably at the newspaper during the summer, so I’ll have A LOT of time on my hands to keep up with my blog!! Until then, peace out!
Friday:
Sox game 11:
Yes, I’ve been to 11 Sox games. My friends pretty much hate me, but I’m not sure why. I only bought some of the tickets before the season started. Since then, I’ve purchased a few on StubHub and even through the Sox site. It’s not that hard to do, people!!
Anyway, worked the day shift on Friday and met up with Jacks, Mom, and her friend Dori to pre-game. Jacks and I went to the Cask, Mom and Dori to the Baseball Tavern. We each have our places. I’ve been nice enough to compromise, however. I like to pre-game at Cask and post at the Tavern and/or Copperfield’s. Why? Because the both have an activity (pool table at Tavern/hoop at Copperfield’s). I find that after a game, I need an activity to keep me busy and also keep me from over-boozing. Most of the time, it works.
Jacks and I were supposed to sit in the grandstands, an area of the park I haven’t been to in over a year. We went up to an usher named Donna and she asked where we were sitting. I told her and Jackie jokingly quipped, "unless you have something better." To our surprise, Donna said she did and led us to folding chairs behind the lower box seats!!! This is an area for people in wheelchairs, but I guess there were unoccupied for the evening. They were great. We had a whole platform of open space in front of us, an unheard of scenario in Fenway. Usually, my knees are in my chest and I can hardly cross my legs!! In short, it was great!!
Sat next to a nice mother/daughter, Donna and Kennan. Kennan was graduating from high school and was on a senior trip. The rest of her class was stuck up in the grandstands, but I guess they were smart enough to talk to my new favorite usher too!! We chatted with them the entire game, which was a Sox win over Texas. I’m now 9-2 in games attended.
Why I like to beat guys at sports:
Long story short, because when I went up to the hoop machine at Copperfield’s, the guy who had just shot and who’s score was flashing told me "You can play, but you have to beat my 63." I was enraged inside for a couple reasons: a) I don’t need your permission to play. b) you assume because I’m a girl, I won’t even come close to 63. Instead of giving him my whole "apparently, you don’t know who I am" spiel, I just said "Oh, okay. I’ll try."
84 points later, his ass was grass!! "I think I beat your 63. Did I beat your 63?," I asked as he hung his head and got it bad from his friends. I’ll tell you, sometimes I just love being me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Saturday:
Worked. Won’t bore you with that.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sunday:
Mom picked me up and we drove up to East Bumm New Hampshire for my cousin Bernadette and Mike’s 25th Wedding Anniversary. I was one of two flower girls in their wedding, so I pretty much had to go. I was tired from working the night before, but was glad we went when we got there. Their daughters put together a very nice party for the pair and a good time was had by all.
Helped Jill put the finishing paint touches on our new blue, Red Sox dining room. Walls are a light blue and Red Sox photos/plaques/glasses/signs adorn the walls. It’s tastefully done and looks absolutely fabulous!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That’s all for this week. I haven’t been very funny lately and for this, I apologize. Things slow down considerably at the newspaper during the summer, so I’ll have A LOT of time on my hands to keep up with my blog!! Until then, peace out!
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Why are the Gods so sad?
Okay. That's it. I've officially had it!! This rain is driving me mad.Simply mad!! Over the last month, I think I've seen the sun three times!!(This might be a slight exaggeration, but seriously, that's what it feelslike). What could possibly be making the Gods so sad that they feel the needto dump ridiculous amounts of rain on us...at least those of us inMassachusetts?
I don't care what it is, but get over it!! Now!! I can't stop thinking about that scene in the movie "Forrest Gump" whenForrest is describing all the different types of rain he experienced whileserving in Vietnam. Here's what I can remember:
* Big old fat rain. (This is the only one I remember for certain, but theothers were described similarly to the following):
* Sweeping rain.
* Pouring rain.
* Drizzling rain.
* Rain that rains upwards. (You know, the kind that splashes back up at youwhen you're strolling through the six-foot deep pond in your backyard).
* Spotty rain.
* Streaky rain.
* Purple rain. (Just kidding on this last one, but I am in dire need of alaugh. But seriously, how cool would that be? To look out the window one dayand actually see purple rain falling from the sky. I can hear Prince's songright now).
Honestly, we've experienced all of this and more over the last month. Iguess we kind of had to see it coming when in April we were experiencingunseasonably warm weather. April showers, as the saying goes, is supposed tobring May flowers. We've got flowers alright, but they're drowning!!
I've said it before, it's only water. But that's not what bothers me. It'sthe mood it puts me in that most irks me. Whoever coined that seasonal mood disorder thing had it right. Gray skys and cold, rainy conditions make mefeel absolutely miserable. I'm totally unmotivated, grouchy, and just aplain old brat when it's like this. So please Gods, I beg of you. Cut us some slack over here will ya? I have aSox game to go to on Friday and if it rains...so help me...you!!
I don't care what it is, but get over it!! Now!! I can't stop thinking about that scene in the movie "Forrest Gump" whenForrest is describing all the different types of rain he experienced whileserving in Vietnam. Here's what I can remember:
* Big old fat rain. (This is the only one I remember for certain, but theothers were described similarly to the following):
* Sweeping rain.
* Pouring rain.
* Drizzling rain.
* Rain that rains upwards. (You know, the kind that splashes back up at youwhen you're strolling through the six-foot deep pond in your backyard).
* Spotty rain.
* Streaky rain.
* Purple rain. (Just kidding on this last one, but I am in dire need of alaugh. But seriously, how cool would that be? To look out the window one dayand actually see purple rain falling from the sky. I can hear Prince's songright now).
Honestly, we've experienced all of this and more over the last month. Iguess we kind of had to see it coming when in April we were experiencingunseasonably warm weather. April showers, as the saying goes, is supposed tobring May flowers. We've got flowers alright, but they're drowning!!
I've said it before, it's only water. But that's not what bothers me. It'sthe mood it puts me in that most irks me. Whoever coined that seasonal mood disorder thing had it right. Gray skys and cold, rainy conditions make mefeel absolutely miserable. I'm totally unmotivated, grouchy, and just aplain old brat when it's like this. So please Gods, I beg of you. Cut us some slack over here will ya? I have aSox game to go to on Friday and if it rains...so help me...you!!
Monday, June 05, 2006
Argh!! Damn Blogger!!
Okay, I hope some of you got to read my last post because my patience was wearing thin with Blogger and I lost my cool. (Those of you who know me best shouldn't be surprised by this). Basically, I don't understand why my "about me" seciition always stays at the bottom of the page. I thought I was super smart and figured this problem out last week. Yup, for a whole five days, my "about me" section was up where it should be...
...Then I tried to write a post today. I published it and sure enough, "about me" section back down at the bottom of the page. I tried decreasing the number of posts on the front page (how I fixed it the first time), no dice. Now I can't get anything to post. What I'm writing right now, you probably won't even see!!
I love this blog page, but I didn't think I'd have to be so computer savy to have it!! If anyone in Blogger-ville knows how to help me, be a peach and please do!!
...Then I tried to write a post today. I published it and sure enough, "about me" section back down at the bottom of the page. I tried decreasing the number of posts on the front page (how I fixed it the first time), no dice. Now I can't get anything to post. What I'm writing right now, you probably won't even see!!
I love this blog page, but I didn't think I'd have to be so computer savy to have it!! If anyone in Blogger-ville knows how to help me, be a peach and please do!!
Weekend excerpts
Partied like a rockstar with Jacks and Katie on Friday night, although it was pretty pathetic how early we had to retire. Granted, we started pretty early. I work the dayshift on Fridays until 5 p.m., so we generally get going around 6 p.m.
Started at the Bell (where I work) and were pretty toasted when we left. Went down to The Tap for a couple more before finally heading over to Zuma’s Tex-Mex to get something solid in our stomachs!! Met who we thought was a nice gay man, Jose, at The Tap and invited him along. He was everything one would stereotypically expect in a gay man: Well-dressed, spoke with a lisp, and naturally adored us.
He didn’t eat and had only one margarita. Don’t really recall talking to him all that much at dinner. Was too busy stuffing my face, I guess. Jackie informed me, however, that Jose gave her exactly $7 for his margarita. Exact change?? Not a good thing to do when you go out with three bartenders, but we let it slide because he only had the one drink and no food.
Anyway, after dinner, we saunter over to the Ames Plow (a little dive where I used to work) and were thrilled to see Frank and Tara behind the bar. We ordered some shots and beers. Then Jose spotted a pair of sailors and ordered some shots for them. (They were clearly not gay, but he didn’t seem to care). Fearing he was a mooch, I asked Frank to put those shots on a separate tab for Jose. About 20 minutes later, we decided to leave and asked for our tab. When Frank put one in front of Jose, he freaked out. I reminded him that he had bought two shots for the sailors and that we weren’t going to pay for them. We just met him for Christ’s sake!!
Jose claims to have no money, but Frank tells him he can pay with a card. He pays, leaves a dollar, and we decided to go our separate ways. I love meeting new people — straight, gay, or otherwise — but it’s so disappointing when their first-impression turns out to be their best.
Now quite intoxicated, we headed over to the Cigar Bar in the North End (where Katie used to bartend). This is the only place in the city where you can smoke. Accordingly, it’s never a pleasant experience for those of us who don’t. It’s a shame too because it’s such a cool, lounge-y place and right up my alley. But the smell. Ugh, hideous!
There, we met up with two of Katie’s friends from the office, one of whom I’ve met before and is an avid reader of this blog, but has yet to leave a comment!! You know who you are!! I appropriately scorned him and basically threatened to never write again if he didn’t leave a comment. (Okay, that last part didn’t really happen, but he was indeed scorned). Seriously, now that you’ve been mentioned, you have to leave a comment!! There are rules, man!!
The night gets pretty fuzzy from here on in, but I do seem to recall Jacks ripping a cigarette from Katie’s hand at one point (Katie has not smoked for over a month and was about to have "just one" before Jacks intervened). There may have been some wrestling involved, but I can’t be certain.
Of course, I do clearly remember cheering like mad after watching Kevin Youkilis hit a homerun in the top of the ninth to give the Sox a 3-2 comeback win over Detroit. How could any self-respecting Sox fan forget that?
A very hammered Katie bailed shortly thereafter, but Jacks and I kept going. We stopped at the Bell for a couple before heading home to Southie and a brief stay at the Playwright. I think I was home in bed by 1 a.m. Didn’t wake up with a hangover, though, so retiring early was worth it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Worked with the she-beast on Saturday night!! Can’t really elaborate on this, but let’s just say I’ve never known a more money-hungry, spoiled-rotten, selfish girl in my life. She sucks and I hate her. That’s about all you need to know about that.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ran a bunch of errands on Sunday and went to visit Beth and baby Taylor. Can’t believe how quickly she’s growing…again, that’s Taylor, not her momma. She’s an absolute doll and was so alert and fun!! So proud to be an auntie!! One of these days I’ll figure out how to get a picture of her on this blog. Someday.
Started at the Bell (where I work) and were pretty toasted when we left. Went down to The Tap for a couple more before finally heading over to Zuma’s Tex-Mex to get something solid in our stomachs!! Met who we thought was a nice gay man, Jose, at The Tap and invited him along. He was everything one would stereotypically expect in a gay man: Well-dressed, spoke with a lisp, and naturally adored us.
He didn’t eat and had only one margarita. Don’t really recall talking to him all that much at dinner. Was too busy stuffing my face, I guess. Jackie informed me, however, that Jose gave her exactly $7 for his margarita. Exact change?? Not a good thing to do when you go out with three bartenders, but we let it slide because he only had the one drink and no food.
Anyway, after dinner, we saunter over to the Ames Plow (a little dive where I used to work) and were thrilled to see Frank and Tara behind the bar. We ordered some shots and beers. Then Jose spotted a pair of sailors and ordered some shots for them. (They were clearly not gay, but he didn’t seem to care). Fearing he was a mooch, I asked Frank to put those shots on a separate tab for Jose. About 20 minutes later, we decided to leave and asked for our tab. When Frank put one in front of Jose, he freaked out. I reminded him that he had bought two shots for the sailors and that we weren’t going to pay for them. We just met him for Christ’s sake!!
Jose claims to have no money, but Frank tells him he can pay with a card. He pays, leaves a dollar, and we decided to go our separate ways. I love meeting new people — straight, gay, or otherwise — but it’s so disappointing when their first-impression turns out to be their best.
Now quite intoxicated, we headed over to the Cigar Bar in the North End (where Katie used to bartend). This is the only place in the city where you can smoke. Accordingly, it’s never a pleasant experience for those of us who don’t. It’s a shame too because it’s such a cool, lounge-y place and right up my alley. But the smell. Ugh, hideous!
There, we met up with two of Katie’s friends from the office, one of whom I’ve met before and is an avid reader of this blog, but has yet to leave a comment!! You know who you are!! I appropriately scorned him and basically threatened to never write again if he didn’t leave a comment. (Okay, that last part didn’t really happen, but he was indeed scorned). Seriously, now that you’ve been mentioned, you have to leave a comment!! There are rules, man!!
The night gets pretty fuzzy from here on in, but I do seem to recall Jacks ripping a cigarette from Katie’s hand at one point (Katie has not smoked for over a month and was about to have "just one" before Jacks intervened). There may have been some wrestling involved, but I can’t be certain.
Of course, I do clearly remember cheering like mad after watching Kevin Youkilis hit a homerun in the top of the ninth to give the Sox a 3-2 comeback win over Detroit. How could any self-respecting Sox fan forget that?
A very hammered Katie bailed shortly thereafter, but Jacks and I kept going. We stopped at the Bell for a couple before heading home to Southie and a brief stay at the Playwright. I think I was home in bed by 1 a.m. Didn’t wake up with a hangover, though, so retiring early was worth it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Worked with the she-beast on Saturday night!! Can’t really elaborate on this, but let’s just say I’ve never known a more money-hungry, spoiled-rotten, selfish girl in my life. She sucks and I hate her. That’s about all you need to know about that.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ran a bunch of errands on Sunday and went to visit Beth and baby Taylor. Can’t believe how quickly she’s growing…again, that’s Taylor, not her momma. She’s an absolute doll and was so alert and fun!! So proud to be an auntie!! One of these days I’ll figure out how to get a picture of her on this blog. Someday.
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