Archive Page 2

2007 (But Really This Time)

1. What did you do in 2007 that you’d never done before?
I remember a bat in my guest room, and then a bat condo (i.e. Sam Adams box) on my patio because my stupid kindhearted cousin Andrew thought it would be cruel to not provide it with an alternate home. WHAT? Yeah, I think that was in January, and everything that happened after that is pretty much a blur.

2. Did you keep your New Year’s resolutions?
I think this was a “screw resolutions, just drink” kind of year.

3. What countries did you visit?
Just this one. Boo. I’m patriotic.

4. What would you like to have in 2008 that you lacked in 2007?
Motivation. Which is the same thing I said a year ago…

5. What dates from 2007 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
October 28, when the Sox won the world series. Again, bitches!

6. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Winning the Nobel prize.

7. What was your biggest failure?
Misplacing it.

8. Did you suffer illness or injury?
I had strep throat, which was surprisingly sucktastic and laid me up for a few days. I also had a pre-schooler accidentally spill hot tea on my business… my lady business.

9. What was the best thing you bought?
Umm… apparently I didn’t buy anything this year.

10. Whose behavior merited celebration?
I don’t know. Let’s get some fuckin’ French toast.

11. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
People who don’t get the snow off the roofs of their cars and then it turns to ice and flies off at other motorists (i.e. me) in jagged chunks of death.

12. Where did most of your money go?
Condo fee, bills, Fresh City, savings, CVS. Seriously, since this really awesome one opened right near me, somehow I’m there like every day. It’s just so PRETTY. Maybe I should go to more museums or something.

13. What song will always remind you of 2007?
The one about how she dug her keys into the side of his pretty little souped up four wheel drive. Gah, point taken: I will never, ever cheat on Carrie Underwood.

14. Compared to this time last year, are you:
a) Happier or sadder? Sadder, but working on it.
b) Thinner or fatter? About the same.
c) Richer or poorer? Richer.

15. What do you wish you’d done more of?
Exercise.

16. What do you wish you’d done less of?
Worrying.

17. How did you spend Christmas?
I was with my family.

18. Did you fall in love in 2007?
Yeah.

19. How many one-night stands?
Oh, you know me.

20. What was your favorite TV program?
How about the ones I don’t like? I don’t like anything scary or violent, so basically all the shows that just have letters as titles, which always surprises people because I guess I don’t seem like a delicate buttercup, but I AM. I own my lame TV taste… I mean, I still miss Felicity and Providence. And Sisters! Okay, so I really like The Office, How I Met Your Mother and The Hills. I never think to watch any of the HBO shows and even though everyone and their brother told me to watch Arrested Development, I still haven’t. I don’t know, I never keep up with a show every week, I always end up watching some crap on VH1 reading the works of Stephen Hawking.

21. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
No.

22. What was the best book you read?
Eat Pray Love.

23. What was your greatest musical discovery?
I like Coconut Records. And Hannah Montana! Come on, she’s spunky and adorable and that music is catchy. I also like that she’s 15 and doesn’t try to look 21, but she’ll probably be anorexic and humping John Mayer by this time next year. Anyway, I also liked both volumes of the Elizabethtown soundtrack. It didn’t come out this year but I “discovered” it this year. Cameron Crowe and his wife, What About Love Don’t You Want Someone To Care About You, have great taste.

24. What did you want and get?
A new digital camera.

25. What did you want and not get?
Mr. Red.

26. What was your favorite film of this year?
I loved Superbad.

27. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I turned 30! I went out with friends and family.

28. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
Traveling. I really have no excuse.

29. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2007?
Ponytails and t-shirts in the summer and ponytails and sweaters in the winter.

30. What kept you sane?
My friends quite literally kept me sane this year.

31. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Jason Varitek and Seth Rogen.

32. What political issue stirred you the most?
Trying to make sure I say Osama instead of Obama at work because I have a student named Osama, and trying to make sure I say Obama instead of Osama everywhere else, because, well… you know what, this is a very politically incorrect conversation. You should be embarrassed.

33. Who did you miss?
I miss Elusive Jen, who moved away to New York.

34. Who is the best new person you met?
I don’t know. Who did I meet this year? That person at your wedding was nice. I have no idea.

35. Tell us some valuable life lessons you learned in 2007.
Not to let stupid crap ruin a friendship. Not to hate on people who have gerbils even though they are wiggly balls of disgustingness. Not to use phrases like “hate on” because shut up trendypants. Oh, and also, that I can be totally full of shit. I’d always been really exasperated by friends who dated guys who didn’t deserve them… not exasperated by my friends, but by the idea of anyone I loved wasting any amount of time analyzing the whims of a guy who didn’t measure up. And then I fell for a ginormous loser and it’s taken me months to deal with it rationally… and I’m still not, entirely. So I’m humbled and will no longer be dispensing completely logical advice* and then wondering why it’s so hard to follow. I get it now.

*I never dispensed completely logical advice anyway, so it’s not a huge leap.

36. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.
Soulja boy off in this hoe
Watch me lean and watch me rock
Super man that hoe
Then watch me crank that Robocop
Super fresh, now watch me jock
Jocking on them haters man
When I do that soulja boy
I lean to the left and crank that thang

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I Want To Know What Love Is, But I’m Pretty Sure Not With You

My current soft rock obsession is songs that try to poetically say “I’m not interested in you.” Who writes songs for people they don’t like? Could we bring back this trend? Because it’s hilarious. They’re all like, “I don’t have the heart to love you” or “I’m not so sure where I stand.” Listen, the protocol for not wanting to date someone is typically the cell phone delete or the awkward “Yeah, I know, I’ve just been SO busy at work,” not a tribute song.

My cousin and I amused ourselves over the holiday coming up with an album that will pay tender homage to this dilemma, tentatively titled “I’m Thinking No.” The first single will be “I Don’t Want (To Put My Dick In You),” to the tune of “All I Need (Is Just A Little More Time)” by Jack Wagner. Check it out below and put the lyrics in for yourself. It’s very catchy.

Also, wasn’t this guy on a fucking soap opera or something?

That’s The Power Of Love. Can You Feel It?

(My cousin) Andrew: Okay, what are your coping strategies [for being with my family over the holiday]?
Me: Before I respond to any character attacks, I’m going to wait the amount of time that it takes to mentally review the lyrics to The Power Of Love by Huey Lewis in order to give me time to calm down and formulate a reasonable response.
Andrew: And what’s your response to, “I gave birth to you and you never loved me!”
Me: “Well, not NEVER.”
Andrew: Oh, I’m sorry. You just lost your inheritance. Now it goes to me.
Me: Shit, wait. Okay. “AHHHHHH…the power of love…is a curious thing…make-a one man weep, make another man sing…” I’m sorry you feel that way, mom. It works!
Andrew: Of course it does. I do it all the time. Not with stupid songs, though.
Me: What are you talking about? You don’t need no credit card to ride this train.

Merry Christmas, everyone! I mean happy holidays blahbittyblah.

Money To Burn

I should be wrapping presents or doing laundry or God forbid CLEANING MY OFFICE, but, whee, it’s a snow day! Or, really, an ice day.

If you won millions and millions of dollars in the lottery tomorrow, what would you buy?

Not just millions… millions and millions! Now we’re talking. I love this question. I was having lunch the other day with some work people and Supergirl was saying that she and her husband got their ginormous flatscreen HD TV because his old roommate bought it and then turned Buddhist and sold it to them for $500. Why can’t any of my friends turn Buddhist? Because I’ll support your new religious convictions and I will love the crap out of your old stuff.

Okay, first I’d put some in a mutual fund blah blah so that someday my kids can be worthless, lazy and spoiled and end up in rehab before they’re 19. Just kidding! I’d give all the money to my favorite one and tell the rest that Santa Claus isn’t real. And that Daddy drinks because you cry.

Then I’d buy a house. I’m not sure where; someplace suburban with easy access to Boston. All new fixtures, granite, girl cave. I like the idea of having a Sephora in the basement but I’d probably forget to feed the employees periodically, so instead let’s do a sports bar. Well, maybe a step up from a sports bar, because I don’t want a Golden Tee anywhere. Fireplace, big screen TV, stocked bar, and pool table. And a dance floor! Because even if no one else uses it, I know I will. Also, my Star Trek pinball machine from 1986 which is now vintage by default. It’s in pieces in the basement of my parents’ condo because I’ve never had room for it. It gets me lots of geek cred but my dad picked it out; I never actually liked the show.

I’d have a library room, but a hardcore library, like the one that the Beast makes for Belle in Beauty and the Beast. I’m not sure that the word “hardcore” was ever used in that movie.

Then I’d buy a king size bed. When it comes to king size beds, I’m pressed up against the glass at the candy store. I’ve heard about them, and occasionally enjoyed them in hotels, but they remain a creature of mystery to me. When I’ve been in relationships, my favorite thing about them is that I can stretch out my arms and legs and I CAN’T EVEN TELL THAT YOU’RE THERE, THIS IS SO AWESOME! Is that bad? I loved you all, though, I swear.

It’s actually a good thing that I don’t have unlimited money, because it would be like that episode of Friends where Rachel buys everything at Pottery Barn and Phoebe sees the display window and says, “This is our exact living room.” You’d walk into my living room and say, “Is this West Elm?” and then my kitchen and say, “Is this Crate and Barrel?” and then you’d turn to me and say, “For the love of God, Red, your home is a fucking MALL.” And then I’d be sad. And I’d comfort myself by turning my bedroom into Restoration Hardware.

I’d buy a new cell phone that actually WORKS in my home. I’d get one of the ones where you can put pictures of people as the caller ID and when they call it plays a song that reminds you of them. And when a person called who wasn’t in my phone it would play, “Whooooo are you? Who, who?” Actually, maybe I could do all this with my current phone. Never mind about the phone, instead let’s go with season tickets to the Red Sox.

Then I’d quit my job for awhile and travel everywhere: Italy, Ireland, Spain, New Zealand, Albuquerque. And with the domain name that I finally sprung for, I’d blog about all of it, while accompanied on my journey by Jason Varitek, whom I purchased.

Saturday, 8:14 PM

Elusive Jen: Where are you?
Me: I’m at this really awesome place downtown called Grocery Store. Maybe you’ve heard of it.
EJ: I have! And I’m actually at a really cool place too. It’s called Couch.

Thursday, or Why I Spent The Night In A Best Freakin’ Western

I hope that The People Who Run Boston are more embarrassed than the time they mistook a neon blinking sign promoting a show on the Cartoon Network for a bomb. A few friends in neighboring states assumed it had to be a blizzard causing all the commotion on Thursday: “Heard about the snow! You guys okay?” Yeah, fine, cough, thanks. But, um, it wasn’t a blizzard. We got something like, what, 8 inches? It was sheer stupidity. When the governor tells everyone in the state to leave work at the exact same time, ridiculousness ensues.

When I first got on 128 I sucked it up, inching along, texting friends and assuming the traffic would break at some point because it always does. Then people started calling into radio shows with their horror stories (two hours to drive a mile! ran out of gas! windshield wipers broke!) and it became clear that nobody was going anywhere. Ever, it appeared. Seriously, I almost put a down payment on the ramp for exit 31B. Come visit anytime, you can’t miss it.

It took me three hours to drive seven miles, and a lot of other people had it much worse than me. Even at that point, though, I wasn’t even close to halfway home. I was also thoroughly rattled, especially when it got dark, and that’s probably saying something considering I’ve been a New England driver my whole life (the second half of it, anyway). The visibility was beyond shit (that’s one step below “poor”) and no one was in any particular lane because you couldn’t really tell where the lanes were. Cars were randomly abandoned all over the highway (did you ever fathom a time that you’d stop your car and GET OUT on 128?) and you couldn’t see them until you were practically on top of them. And when you tried to go around them, there was still THAT GUY behind you who tried to take it as an opportunity to pass you. I’ve flipped that guy off many a time but never had the reaction of just wanting to cry into my mittens out of frustration.

It was around that time, with a quarter tank of gas and a bladder that wanted to know when and for what reason I had turned on it, that I decided to get off the fucking highway. I had to put on my hazards and hope that the good people coming up behind me on the right would just assume I was about to break down and let me go, because I couldn’t even see whether or not they were giving me room or riding my ass.

When I got out of the Papa Gino’s ladies room, which I will now always think of as a tiny piece of nirvana in the town of Bedford, I got word that they had closed the portion of 128 that I needed to be on because a tractor trailer had jackknifed. Okay then. I looked up and saw…the Christmas star. Actually, a Best Western. And that’s where I spent the night. They had available rooms, food, and underground parking, and that was all I needed to know.

Once I checked in, I went to the bar before I went to my room, if that’s telling you anything. The general manager was filling in as bartender because the regular guy couldn’t make it there, and pretty soon the place was filled with people, all locals like me in the exact same boat. We made a group trip to the convenience store across the street to buy toothbrushes, then went back to the hotel, got drunk and watched the SNL Christmas special. What else could you do? Ultimately I was glad I got off the road; my cousin has a similar commute as mine and it took him six hours. I mean, if I had to do it over again I’d have called in sick that day stayed at work until late, but given the circumstances, my somewhat seedy and utterly surreal detour was a small price to pay for relative sanity. ($99, not including tax, to be exact.)

I went to work on Friday wearing the same clothes that I wore on Thursday, and no makeup, but then made matters worse by telling everyone exactly that when they asked about my journey, wide-eyed like I was Moses; most of them live within a mile or two of the school. And although I felt like a homeless person, everyone told me they’d never know the difference. Hmmm. Either they were being kind or I’m putting too much effort for naught into my regular morning routine.

P.S. Supergirl left work early and made it home before any snow had fallen. Of course she did. Granted, she’s seven months pregnant, so I can’t exactly begrudge her not wanting to mess around with inclement weather. But I mean, of course the only person more efficient than Supergirl is Superbaby.

Santa Claus Is Coming To Town, However Unconventionally

I thought my most amusing festive anecdote would be the fact that we can’t have any Christmas songs in the holiday program at school, so instead the third graders are singing Ain’t No Mountain High Enough. But today topped that.

My mom, who can be a bit of a mental terrorist with her immediate family, somewhat ironically runs a little organization in her town that helps out families that are going through difficult times by bringing over meals, giving rides, that kind of thing. She decided it’d be fun to have Santa drive around town this year waving to the kids, so she got a company to loan her a pick-up truck, and then found a costume and a guy to wear it. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to be involved; I had agreed to go over in the morning to help stuff gift bags and prepare mini candy canes to be thrown off the truck, and after that I was holed up with my dad watching 61, a movie about Roger Maris. But of course then their doorbell started ringing and I got roped in to the surreal festivities.

Santa was Jewish and one hell of a good sport. He brought along his daughter and an exchange student from Zimbabwe, both of whom were dressed as elves. When you’re leading the processional and Santa is balanced precariously on a lawn chair on the flatbed, you have to drive pretty slowly, and eventually I had to take over at the helm because my mom kept screaming “Jesus Christ! Damn it! Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” at oncoming traffic.

You know it’s Christmas when you hear yourself saying, “Mom, please stop swearing at cars. You’re scaring the African kid.”