Working From Home on Thursday Morning...

...but I don't have to like it.

That was the email I sent out Wednesday at 7:30pm. Somehow I ended the year with 3.75 personal days to take and only 2 days in which to take them... which turned into less than 2 because I woke up to an hour of work and 3 calls from the office. And tomorrow I have to log in for at least a little bit--maybe an hour.

But that's the boring stuff. Since last I wrote, I've been to Indiana, Christmas happened, I came back to my lovely apartment with my fabulous roommate, and I managed to take some more time off. It will be very hard to go back to work on Tuesday--or maybe not. Maybe I'll have a new perspective with the new year. That's probably true, but maybe not the way everyone will think. We shall see.

Somehow I have little inspiration for this, so I will stop boring you and go to bed.

Wiretapping

On the Television: George Bush extolling the wiretapping practice used on suspected terrorists.

Olivia (6): Does that mean they can put video cameras in our house, mommy?

Mom: Well, they don't usually use video, but they can do things like listen to what you're saying on the telephone.

Amy (20, and a little surprised): Are you actually enjoying watching the news? (To Olivia)

Olivia: Well I hate it when they tell me George Bush is spying on me.

Clarification

The move was not bad. I was trying to be funny. Sometimes that doesn't come across in cyber talk.

Don't worry. I have lots of boys to help me and I am a princess. They know it. It helps. All I did was carry pillows and blankets and tell them what good job they were doing with the heavy stuff. And they liked it. Plus, I drove the truck.

Phew!

You know you're moving when...

1. You wake up at 6:30 on Friday and instead of making your bed (and some coffee) you disassemble your bed and make hot water with soymilk.
2. You have a ton of cargo an have left very little behind, but still can't find your purse.
3. Your friends start calling you "slave driver"
3a. Ok that didn't really happen, but Erik, Sam and Jeff really showed their mettle today and it was mighty, but not a hint of complaint.
4. You think that $40 for 2 pizzas and some soft drinks is reasonable because it was delivered.
5. You have a bruise the size of Texas developing in at least one part of your body.
6. You feel the urge to christen things.
7. You know exactly where the allen wrench is no matter what.
8. You get the feeling that U-Haul just might be out to get you.
9. You have to put a diaper on a truck to keep it from leaking on your futon (ok, maybe that's a stretch, but we have to get to 10, so bear with me)
10. The weather absolutely does NOT cooperate.

Sometimes Stalkers Aren't

Stalkers, that is. Sometimes they are people who for some unknown reason actually think you are interesting based largely on your pathetic blogging. Nice to have people like that around. Or at least within networking distance. Recently one of my "stalkers" was revealed to me, and you'll be happy to know that it wasn't Mr. Ramirez (you'll have to scour the comments from way back in the day to find the answer to that inside joke). In fact, wasn't even a Mr. It was a Ms. We had chorizo together once and her Spanish is WAY better than mine. This is not meant to discount her language skills, but rather to put my ability into perspective: most people's Spanish is way better than mine.

Question of the day:
Is it still an inside joke if you post it in a public place?

6 Random Babbles

1. The war on Christmas? Excuse me? Retailers responding to Jerry Falwell Christians?
2. "Christians" threatening not to buy stuff? Excuse me? Consumerism isn't what Christmas is about.
3. I saw Frodo shoveling snow today.
4. This morning when I walked outside, I was surprised to see 4 inches of snow on the ground.
5. 1point something million cards sent out by the Bush family? That's nearly 3 times what Clinton sent and he broke records.
6. Thank God it's Friday.

Move It!!

Ok, let's be honest. This post was created with the sole purpose of moving that terrible picture off the top of the page. This week has thus far been insane. It started with that picture (or the aftermath assumed therein) and hasn't really slowed down since. I somehow couldn't manage to finish my homework Sunday, so I ended up at the office doing it until 10pm on Tuesday. Tonight when I got home at 7:45, I realized I hadn't been home before 10 since the weekend. Luckily last night someone cooked me dinner and took care of me. But I lost an earring. I have some speculations about what might have happened to it, but so far none of those have turned up anything material. I need to decide what class to take next year. Or if I should take a class. One that has less homework would be pretty cool. My friend Erik is leaving me for Colorado. Pretty rad that he's decided to do it, but not for me. I just found out that one of the girls I went to Niger with is married and having a kid. Yes, she's my age. AND she's starting a church in her house. I grew up in a family full of ministers and weekly church goers and I still think that's weird. Another one is getting married in December to some dude. I am either out of touch (highly likely) or these people are really moving fast (also highly likely). Today at work was one annoyance after another and I am currently on a you-must-have-patience-young-grasshopper kick. I will be patient. I can do it. Most of the time I want to stuff cotton in my ears and sing la la la la I can't hear you la la la la . I have all these deliverables due like tomorrow. Only it's really "like". There's not a lot of pressure at my office unless you put it on yourself. And man do I lay it on. It's torture. Thank God I'm not someone's boss. Actually, I think I would be a reasonable boss. I like to talk to people about what they're doing and how they're doing it. I like teaching. I like learning. Positive feedback loops, you know. How do you like my stream of consciousness post. Par for the course?

Happy Birthday to Barrett

This is one of the things that happens when . . .


. . . this much champagne etc. is consumed.


We also found boxer shorts in every room including the kitchen, champagne bottles in the sauna, watches outside, towels strewn about, and that my socks had been left at the club. I would not be so self-centered about this post, but it happens to be one of the tamer stories and these people might not want to ruin their political careers on my blog... so I'll let them comment.

Forget about Insurgents

Now they’re to be called “Enemies of the Legitimate Iraqi Government”

Yuppie?

My friend Erik thinks I'm a yuppie. He hasn't met my lesbian parents.

Do yuppies drink 2-buck Chuck? Except for that, my maternal units are as yuppified as it gets. Except that it comes from Trader Joe's--that's definitely yuppie.

They just added a whole house onto the back of our old house. The new addition is generally tastefully done, but does have some yuppy charm in the flick-of-a-switch gas fireplace and certain other features.

Plus, my 6-year-old sister now eats Lean Cuisine more often than real food. She takes lunchables to school. Granted, I ate school lunches most of the time, but that was because they were cheaper.

I realize they're a little old (early 40s) to be called yuppies, but they do have a 6-year-old and they're becoming soccer moms. They're just a little different.

Bitchy Around the Edges

Sometimes people forget how to share. And then they get bitchy. We have to share time. We have to share space. We have to respect that people have different temperature thresholds. And when we fail to do this, things get ugly. So I just quit and move to the basement.

Now on to 2-proportion z-tests and figuring out the difference between that and 2-proportion Confidence Intervals. Thought I had it... then came along part (b.) of question 23. Crap.

One Lane at 4

Family time is always fun. How exactly are you supposed to plan for 13 people in every generation from age 6 through 69?

Duck Pin Bowling of course!

So you call. And it turns out every one else had the same idea. All they have is one lane at 4.

I guess we're not all going.

Onward! To Statistics Class!

On the T to Harvard Square, I was sitting next to an overweight 7-year-old who was busy stuffing his face with Pringles. He looked at me. I looked at him. He said something like "you stink". We decided not to make much of it.

Then I looked at the cute guy with the suitcases. We decided the kid was a little off.

We were entering Harvard Station and I stood up. The kid acted like he was going to hit me. I flinched and looked over at cute guy. We smiled. We decided not to take him too seriously.

Then he stood up. "I'm getting off here," said little man, "You're not getting off here."

"Well actually, I am getting out here," says the motley princess.

"You don't live around here," said little man.

"You're right. I don't"

"Where do you live?"

"Way over that way" (pointing toward Boston)

"Who's your boyfriend?"

"Jeff"

"Jeff the cab driver?"

"No. Jeff the rock climber."

And then we parted ways.

Grantikins

Just want to let you all know that the best roommate ever has joined the blogosphere. He's also known as the (Inconspicuous)Nomad. And he's a musician. And he's terrible beyond all belief. (He made me say that)

Shout it From the Rooftops!

My plan is to move to Cambridge, and dammit, this time I'm not flaking out. That's because this time I'm moving to live with the best roommate ever, Grant! He wants me to say bad things about him. In fact, he has just now required that if I use his name it has to be used in context of bad things. I told him I would therefore give away all his secrets and he told me that that only involves pancake recipes. I bet it involves some secret war tactics used in back yard mud battle fields. Just a guess though.

We found a beautiful top floor apartment with in-house laundry and a back yard. It also has a bonus room, which will be properly renamed once we move in. We're still in the insh'allah stage of this whole process as I just sent in the applications today. So don't expect anything yet. We still have to have our credit approved.

Ok, so pretty much all the rest is all either non-bloggable or boring material, so that's about all I can tell you.

Hey wait! Now Grant has to make me pancakes.

It's a good thing we're moving together because half of my stuff used to be his and that would be, well, awkward, if he moved to a studio. Fate.

And no, parents and other concerned parties, we're not sleeping together or getting married or any of that nonsense. It's a 2-bedroom.

Don't Mess With Me

GalaDress
Originally uploaded by MotleyPrincess.

I'm wearing Roses.

This was the before picture... I can assure you that the after-gala pictures are even less flattering.

Toe Head

What the freak?

Ok, I know I've heard this term before, but I have no idea what it really means. I've heard/read it twice this week in different contexts and now I'm thoroughly confused. It doesn't seem very nice to call someone a toehead. Maybe it's the little kids' version of butthead?

Or is it toWhead? Now we're on to something. So does that mean that the head is big enough to tug oil tankers through the Boston Harbor?

Unfortunately (for the purpose of continuing to feel ignorant), I just now decided to check the actual dictionary instead of WikiPedia, and it gave me an answer.

Towhead
1. A head of white-blond hair resembling tow.
2. A person with such hair.
Colloquial Version: An urchin who has soft, whitish hair.
3. A sandbar or low-lying alluvial island in a river, especially one with a stand of trees.

Excuse me? Tow is a noun? An alluvial island? Now I've got to know the etymology of this business.

Eureka!
"Tow" evidently refers to the fiber of flax, hemp, or jute, prepared for spinning which apparently is light in color and messy looking. "Head" refers to that heavy thing on top of your neck. The blonde headed person definition is a product of 19th century American language. Not sure about the alluvial island, but Huck Finn tied up to one, so I think it makes a little more sense than toEhead did at the beginning.
Source

Yes, I know it's obvious that I haven't been writing. It's just that I promised not to talk about those things and I have a temporary roomate which keeps me away from this dreadful machine.

Excitement Sandpaper

Remember how I thought Statistics was this amazing new part of my life? Well, the novelty is rubbing off and someone decided to use sandpaper for that task. It's damn near impossible to get me to move over to the table where my statistics work is sitting. It's begging me, but I am being a princess. Maybe I'll go out for a drink and come back to it. I really think champagne would help.

U-Turn

Awesome! I'm not sure if it was the spectacular views or the champagne or the company or the lake or the playlists or the dance party or the crampons or the herbal essence or the new boots or the fact that I wore a sports bra only for the first half of our hike in November or the sauna or the chocolate or the breakfast or the barbecue or the backpack or the snow or the fact that I wasn't in Boston or the margaritas or the middle of the back seat or the lack of sleep or the amazing bathtub or the fine mist or the possibly faux northern lights or the milky way or the color of the trees or simply the fact that I wasn't even thinking about work, but this weekend was awesome. I certainly didn't do any statistics which I might regret later, but right now I'm just aglow. On my way to rehearsal in about an hour, but then will probably pass out, wake up, go to work, come home, do stats, pass out, go to work, pick up long-lost-friend, take my midterm, come home, pass out, go to work, come home, say hello to friend and head off to yoga with him. Great 3 days, right? Uh, yeah. I want to go back to weekend land. Except for the friend thing. That's awesome.

Confidence Interval

As I get further and further into this statistics class, my confidence level diminishes. I swear everything was going just fine. I could do my homework in my sleep. And then last week I went to class and had no idea what the hell she was talking about. Then, I managed to skip my homework. Now we have a midterm next Tuesday and I'm struggling to complete last week's homework and will be away for the weekend. Granted, I'll be with someone, or a few someones, who could dance circles around me in stats, but I have a feeling that won't be on the top of the agenda. So, car sickness: here I come. Does anyone have any Dramamine?

Hallowhimper

I know. I never write anymore and the last post was blatant theft.

Things are insane: Scooter Libby and Harriet Miers

In my news world it's: "We only have $125,000 to go, and we'll make it, but only if you call in now...." So I did last Monday, hoping against hope that other people would get the hint and call in or pledge on the internet. It's not that hard people. A monthly extract from your credit card of $10 probably won't hurt that bad. So support public radio. Damn thing was s'posed to end last Friday and went until today.

Halloween is funny, but I feel kind of Halloweened out. I almost didn't dress up today. But I did. The Data Princess. And my office mates performed well. We had a very sketchy Pedro from Napoleon Dynamite, a Rodeo Clown, Johnny Appleseed, Kenny from South Park, the Pirate (oh yes, the American Girl pants came back out), little miss muffett, a hunter, and Analyst X. Maybe some others. We even had a contest.

You know what's cooler than a costume contest? A limbo contest. You know why? Because I can actually win a limbo contest. Can you believe it? I actually won something. And now I am in pain. No, the limbo contest was not at the office; it followed several visits to the ice luge.

Stats homework is calling my name. I think that the quality of my work is deteriorating... just in time for the midterm.

Le Roi David: Back Bay Chorale's First Concert of the Season

Friday November 18th, 8pm
Old South Church, Copley Square, Boston [directions]
Tickets: $20, $30, $40

20% discount for groups of 10+, so email me and I'll put you in a group somehow.

Le Roi David: Arthur HONEGGER (big headliner piece)
Octandre: Edgar VARÈSE
La Création du Monde: Darius MILHAUD
Attende Domine: Pierre VILLETTE

Claude Corbeil: narrator
Lynn Torgove: Witch of Endor

Stolen from Back Bay Chorale's website:

Originally written in 1921 for the theater, Honegger captures in music the drama of king David’s tumultuous life — slaying the giant, betrayed by his king, triumphant in battle, lusting for another’s wife, suffering his son’s death, offending his God, yet ultimately creating the legacy of the kingdom of Israel.

Performed in its original French, Le Roi David is enriched with imaginative staging and narration by one of North America’s leading French operatic baritones.

Please come if you can! It will be a truly unique experience with 1920's jazz-inspired music -- including a soprano saxophone for one piece.

Then you're already in Back Bay for your Friday night debauchery.

Chamois of Self in Normal Distribution

This is me.
This is me not doing my dishes.
This is me not sorting through papers.
This is me not taking my recycling downstairs.
This is me feeling bad about it but being distracted by baseball.
This is me not caring about the stupid Other Sox.
This is me going back to idea number two.
Yes, I'm pretty self absorbed.
Normal Distribution.
Look.

I Just Didn't Have it Yet!

Samantha,

O-Ren Ishii,

and Willy

Halloweenie

Generally for Halloween I like to take an abstract idea or inanimate object and attempt to personify it. For example, last year I was the blaster worm computer virus--it involved a lot of pink spandex. This year, I decided to take a different route and go for a movie character--a recent movie character--and go as Willy Wonka (the Johnny Depp version, thank you very much).

Thought process on choosing the costume about 2 months ago:
1. Motley Princess sees the poster for the new movie.
2. MP thinks "Who's that woman?"
3. MP realizes "It's Johnny Depp"
4. MP knows "I have to be that"

I was a freaking hot Willy Wonka; I was channeling Johnny Depp... Ok maybe not, but you can't say I didn't try. However, I was angry most of the evening because, you guessed it, someone else was also attempting Wonka. He looked more like Elton John, though. Freaking loser. Still, nothing worse than having the same costume as someone else.

The good news: that was the warm up party and I have next weekend to redeem myself. But with what?

Magnet Program

Laura has a new enviable blog which is here. I also changed the link in the sidebar.

While Laura was here we were on a mission to find SITC moments. First she had to get me on board by renting and watching several episodes of the HBO classic. It was pretty difficult to rope me into that one. Right.

Then we planned out an evening that took us to a fine art exhibit. A mingling event that showcased said art. A brand spanking new bar. (It might also be a brand new spanking bar, but we haven't gotten that familiar with the waitstaff yet). A party where we reminisced with long lost freshman year floor mates of mine whom I never thought I would see again. Then we went home.

What did we learn from this evening?

If it rains, bring a prophylactic device of some sort to prevent getting wet (or use your poor, sorry state to cajole someone into driving you around).

Bright colors, like in the wild, do attract the opposite sex (or the same sex if that's your thing). Although in my case, it was a gender flip, but I don't really believe in gender anyway, so whatever.

Short skirts definitely attract the opposite sex (or, like I said, the same sex).

Guys really do make cat calls. Especially black guys. (This is not racism, this is pure observation and not meant to have statistical accuracy.)

And last but not least (this is an ongoing realization): I am an old guy magnet. But that's ok because I don't really believe in age.

As the boys of OutKast say: "Age ain't nothin' but a number"

Halt Observation

I've been so obsessively busy lately that it's as if I have halted all of my observation skills. Or maybe I'm getting to the point in handing out this web address that I'm afraid to divulge personal details. That is definitely a problem. Plus, didn't I say that I was going to try to stop that anyway?

I haven't been listening to the news as much as usual because when I get up in the morning I basically just run out the door. Then I either get home after 10pm or I have to do homework. That is what I'm doing tonight. I made some chili too. Yummy vegan chili. Ok, I put cheese and sour cream on it, but it's mostly (90% plus) organic and perfectly safe for any vegan if you skip the toppings. I also made homemade cornbread.... I am clearly dedicated to my homework. Right. Well, except that I am. My first two assignments came back as check+, so I have to keep up appearances.

Speaking of obsessive, I just spent another half hour at work just now. There's this little problem that came up on Friday with some data that looked not quite right and I've been trying to discover the source of it all weekend. I'll intermittently have some sort of Eureka moment and I'll go back to work on the problem. I've still been somewhat unsuccessful, but I have been able to apply my new statistics skills, which is invaluable for my mastery of the subject. Go me! (I realize that I'm entirely pathetic.)

Missing Out

While I'm happy that my homework is finished and I'm not out in the cold making myself more sick, the party that I skipped is evidently pretty killer* and involves nudity and/or partial nudity. I'm aware that I can look at a naked person at home, but somehow it just isn't quite as fun. Laura's still there and doesn't plan on leaving any time soon. Too bad that bitch has my T Pass**.

Why is my neighbor (upstairs) ALWAYS awake? And dropping things?*

*Please note the time stamp. It is correct. Note also that it is Monday.
**Laura's not bitch. I just think it's funny that anyone would even try to call her that. So I did. I'm a complete failure.

Nostalgia

In the last week, one of my best friends has come to stay with me; another good old friend has told me he's going to come to maybe live here (and will stay with me first); I've reunited with people from freshman year (by accident at a party on Friday), touched base with an Anthro buddy, and revisited ultimate frisbee moments (by way of seeing the people and having them remind me of all the stories I tried to forget); plus I got an email from someone I met in Cancún. That's long enough ago to be nostalgic about it, right?

What's next? Will I meet up with Colin Stannard, my 4th grade crush?

Don't you have a party to attend?

Well, yes I do. As it turns out, some of my friends from college along with some highly qualified compatriots have just won a spot in the national championship of ultimate Frisbee. Ultimate Frisbee? Excuse me, did you say Frisbee and National Championship in the same sentence? Oh, yes, my friend, I did. And unlike when I was playing, it is not all about drinking beer. But still, can you imagine telling your boss what's up? I guess I can. He'd be proud.

I should be going to the celebration party because I was asked to attend through a tertiary invitation. But I'm not. It's happening right now and unlike some folks, I have work tomorrow. I am "doing homework". Ok, I'm procrastinating on my homework and passively watching the Angels game (and the Yanks, but who cares about them?). It's a pitcher's count Mariano Rivera vs. Vlad Guerrero. Now Rivera nearly hits Vlad. Tap foul. Grounder to Cano and it's back to Anaheim. Crap. I hate baseball.

Stats homework takes forever. (I bet you're wondering why...)

What Happened to the Motley Princess, Envy of the World?

I know. I've been angsty lately. Activistic, angsty, angry even.

Right now is good though because someone is sleeping with me. And by that I mean in the same room. On a different bed. Laura is in town and I couldn't be happier. Well, I'd be happier if she weren't leaving next Tuesday, but I take what I can get.

My sister seems to think I'm immune from depression, and to a large degree that's true, but a lack of sleep, general frustration in the work place, and best friends being far away are not good in combination. Thank God for Anna (except that she doesn't believe in God, but whatever). I also just found out that one of my people* is coming back to me. He's coming here for a while to see if he might stay. Bad ass, I say. Then someone will sleep with me again. In the same room. On a different bed.

Choir is going well. Class is going well. It goes even better (or more interestingly) if you have had zero to little food all day plus a glass of wine prior to said event. I know what a z-score is, baby. Top that.

It's been the week of the substitute, however. On Monday we had a substitute director - Dr. Jones - which made me happy because I haven't seen her since before I graduated and I think that she might have played a role in hanging the moon and/or setting the stars.

In class we had 2 TA's teaching. It's kind of funny to see someone who you know is really smart and quick get really slow due to the added stress of being in front of 100 people and a hi-res camera. But they got the point across.

*I don't have permission to disclose my mystery person, so I won't. I really don't think he'd mind if I told you individually, so email me if you're curious. cg [at] motleyprincess [dot] com.

Fox News

On Monday night (9/26/2005), I was quite disappointed by a segment on the Boston 10pm local news (Fox25).

The reporters interviewed several Boston-area drivers about President Bush’s statement regarding “non-essential” driving. One female driver was asked whether going to the gym was essential or non-essential driving. She answered “essential.” A male driver was asked whether going out for a pizza was essential or non-essential. He answered “Essential, well, no, that can be delivered.” I’m not sure if any one else noticed, but most restaurants that offer delivery in Boston deliver via automobile. Each person interviewed had more or less the same opinion about driving: it’s all essential. This was echoed by the anchors.

This is irresponsible reporting for a number of reasons:

1. It is not a balanced view of the Bostonian population and while I’m sure it was not meant to be statistically accurate, I think it is fair to say that it was extremely one-sided. I know for a fact that only 8 out of 30 of my colleagues drive even part way to work. Of those 8, 7 use their car for only part of the commute. This is not because we all live in the Back Bay. Even when you look at miles traveled, car travel only constitutes approximately 24% of my company’s total work-related travel on average. Twenty-two of the employees polled at my office (73%) never drive to work. If you ask me, getting to work is pretty essential, so if we’re not using cars for even that part of our lives, I think it’s safe to say that a lot of driving is considered non-essential by my colleagues in general and that a fair number of people in this city agree with that. In a city where public transportation is good, quite a few people view many trips as non-essential driving.


2. The broadcast portrayed Bush’s statement as the administration telling us what to do. No, the administration, for once, was doing the responsible thing and asking the American population to participate in a community effort to work on the fuel supply. With good reason and much evidence, the recent violent hurricanes have been attributed to global warming. Car emissions contribute to this. So, instead of relaxing laws over emissions standards, as Bush initially did in the wake of the Katrina disaster, he along with his administration, was finally taking a more measured step and asked American citizens to curb their consumption. This of course was in response to the more immediate need involving disabled and destroyed refineries, but it was still in the right direction toward a more sustainable relationship between humans and oil.


3. The broadcast also broke any tie the viewer might have to his or her community and encouraged a dog-eat-dog mentality. Perhaps Fox News does not agree that community is important, but encouraging people to take and consume over conserving for the good of the whole is, in my opinion, irresponsible.

Perhaps the report was tongue-in-cheek, but it did not appear to be so. Bush’s delivery of the idea was clumsily fumbled, so I can see the humor. The text of his speech to which this refers is below, as transcribed. Not only are half of the sentences grammatically incorrect, but it also doesn’t say much. It says “we can encourage employees” and “we can shift peak electricity” and “There’s [sic] ways for the federal government to lead”. It does not say “we will encourage”, “we will shift” or “These are the ways in which the federal government will lead.” So I can see why Fox News would make a joke about it. If that is the case, I think it could have been more clearly presented as a joke.

Thank you for considering my response.

Regards,

Motley Princess (I used my real name in the letter. I'm already non-anonymous enough on the internet. I don't need to use the name here.)

The text from President Bush’s speech on September 26th to which I refer is found here. http://www.whitehouse.gov/news/releases/2005/09/20050926.html “Two other points I want to make is, one, we can all pitch in by using -- by being better conservers of energy. I mean, people just need to recognize that the storms have caused disruption and that if they're able to maybe not drive when they -- on a trip that's not essential, that would helpful. The federal government can help, and I've directed the federal agencies nationwide -- and here's some ways we can help. We can curtail nonessential travel. If it makes sense for the citizen out there to curtail nonessential travel, it darn sure makes sense for federal employees. We can encourage employees to carpool or use mass transit. And we can shift peak electricity use to off-peak hours. There's ways for the federal government to lead when it comes to conservation.”

Standing Idly By

Tuesday Morning

4am: Alarm Rings
4:10: Arise from slumber and throw on clothes
4:25: Pack what remains including some snacks
4:30: Final check for important things
4:35: Leave apartment
4:55: Arrive at train station (Back Bay). Stop at ATM.
5am:
Notice some slow moving folks collecting news papers and other items, presumably to make more comfortable sleeping arrangements
5:01:
Notice cops standing about
Try to enter train station
Fail
Ask the Transit Police where the open door is
Police feign ignorance (not generally hard to believe)
More emphatically explain that I have a 5:20 train to catch and that it mustbe open
They tell me that "these people will see you go in and they'll want to go in."
Uh, ok, so maybe they're not wearing pin stripes (thinks she), but what gives? (A thought, not a statement)
"We don't want them here."
Oh right, that. All the homeless people giving you trouble at 5am (A look, not a statement)
"Just wait a minute, ma'am, the train station will open. We just need to clear these people out."
In a sleepy haze (2 hours of sleep at this point), I step casually out of sight behind a pillar.

And then I realize what I'm doing: Standing idly by.

5:05: Cops hold the door open for me.
5:20: Board train
7am: Wake up. Ask self: where was your protest? Draft letter to Fox News about their irresponsible report on Monday night regarding fuel conservation. Feel better about being idle.

I'll post the letter after I'm clear on whether they're going to use it. They won't broadcast these things if they're already published, and blogs count.

Acela and the Associated Press

I was on this train yesterday. The same route. The same time. Just one day earlier.

In case you don't like following links: it crashed. It ran into a car which it dragged for several hundred yards before finally crushing the car beneath the wheels. The grandmother and 8-year-old grandson died, and the 4-year-old granddaughter was critically injured. None of the 116 passengers or 4 crew were hurt.

This article, aside from the obviously alarming things (two people died; I was on it so recently; they don't know how it happened; a 4-year-old may be without a guardian), is alarming for another reason. In every iteration I've seen (all related to the Associated Press), this line appears "None of the 116 passengers or 4 crew was hurt." None is an indefinite pronoun with both singular and plural personalities. You can remember these with the acronym SAMAN: Some, Any, Most, All, None. When these appear before a preposition, the verb following it is either plural or singular depending on the object of the preposition. The preposition in this case is "of"; the object of "of" is "the 116 passengers or 4 crew". Last time I counted 116 + 4 added up to plural and "was" referred to singular things.

Perhaps they were confused with the pronoun "each" which is always singular. As in: to each her own. Or each of these pronouns has its own personality.

Reasons I'm a Democrat : #462

Tom DeLay

(I'm not as old as Matt. So haven't gathered as many reasons.)

Mom Rocks

My mom is the greatest. She is headed to Houston in her car right now. The original plan was to volunteer for three months to help Katrina evacuees find families to live with in Houston. Luckily, Houston wasn't hit as badly as predicted and this is still a possibility. I am so glad that someone from my family is doing the right thing and has the means to be income-free for 3 months. I think I should buy her an iPod. Isn't that a weird thought? Well, maybe not. She's going to be spending a lot of time in her car, needs to be mobile, and CDs weigh a TON! Plus, she's a Mac fiend, so it fits. I'll work on it. Craigslist, here I come.

This does make me feel like I'm doing very little, but I'm also sacrificing my mommy to the land of displaced, unhappy people. I just hope that she finds, well, hope amid all the suffering.

Talk Amongst Yourselves

This weekend was full of voices from my past. It's amazing to me that several of them live within a couple of miles of my house and I never see them. Reliving college memories isn't always the best idea, however, since we all make interesting mistakes in college. Let's just say I didn't feel good for most of today. I suppose it's nice to have time to stop thinking about the day-to-day whether that's work life or my non-stop NPR listening, but I feel a little brain dead.

In other news, this week is going to be crazy with deadlines, missing colleagues, choir rehearsal, watching my Statistics class online because I'll be in New York on Tuesday for another class (Presenting Data and Information with Edward Tufte), all-day choir retreat on Saturday, homework, singing in church choir, and Laura coming Monday. I'm looking forward to being busy, but it might be a little intense and might not result in a lot of blog posts. So talk amongst yourselves.

Non Sequitur

I saw a new part of the world this weekend--Craigville, MA.

You: So why were you there cg?
Me: I was at a church retreat.
You: But, wait, didn't I see you wearing a robe at a party last weekend?
Me: Maybe...

So anyway, I realize it seems like something no one would ever have guessed that I would do of my own accord--much less pay for. But I did. And it was great. They are a very aware group of people, very activistic, very into social justice. They are not bible beaters. They know how to translate their faith to daily, practical life without trying to convert people to their own belief system in the process (except maybe a vision of peace and justice). They are very respectful of difference. They are intellectual, talented, peacful, spiritual, accepting. It's refreshing. And they let me sing. It's great. How else would I ever get to perform Purcell?

Plus, I got to play in the rain, sing with an amazing song/worship/thought/conversation leader from the Iona Community (John Bell), get to know a variety of people from nearly every living generation, and be in a peaceful place with a beach and wildlife and marshes. Pretty hard to beat.

Mi Nombre

Why is it that other people who spell their name like mine simply can't spell? This blogsearch by Google is bringing it to my attention that there are a lot of posers out there (who can't spell anything, not to mention their own name). Look, people, it's mine. I can't help it if your parents aren't as great as mine. And you know what? Mine is actually a mod on a family name, so go back to spelling your name the boring way because I'm the real Slim Shady here, folks.

(I realize that I'm acting somewhat out of character by using the terms "poser" and "Slim Shady", but sometimes you have to break out of convention to make a point.)

Freedom of Fast Information

You might not be able to get an answer out of John Roberts, but damn it if Google isn't trying to fix that. Today Google launched a new Blog search. If you type in my first name, and just my first name, you will see that my blog comes up first. Pretty amazing. So now when I tell people to Google me, it's even easier than I thought.

So what does this all mean? Well for starters, if I want any privacy or anonymity, I need to take down this blog. But since I'm not really into that, I guess it's here to stay. However, it does make me think I should maybe censor myself a little bit because you never know who's watching. Granted, I have the hit counter, but I know for a fact that it thinks I'm visiting from Somerville. I live 2 towns away from Somerville. When Leslie visits the site from Nicaragua, it says she's in Guatemala. There's only this thing called Honduras between the two countries, but still.

Progress is cool. I'm a progressive (whatever that really means--it sounds a lot better than liberal). In any event, it makes this The Onion article look more and more like the truth.

Signer Thugs

The other day, I saw a mixed gender group of about 15 teenagers dressed all in red hanging out in the Downtown Crossing subway station. After about half a minute of watching these apparent gang members, I realized they weren't making a lot of noise like many large groups of kids their age. It was then that I noticed the thing that defines this group and it occured to me that I had seen them before: they were all speaking in sign language.

I'm Good Enough!

I'm smart enough! And gosh darn it, I have some connections that get me into places if I'm not. Today I found out that I am one of the newest members of the Back Bay Chorale. I found out about Saturday's audition on Thursday. Fretted about a song to sing for my requisite prepared piece on Friday. Found sheet music at the public library and bought an iTune recording of one of my favorite Purcell pieces on Saturday, and after listening to it on a loop for about an hour, trotted over to my audition where I was astonished to find out that they were really impressed with the uncommon arrangement I had chosen. Luckily the arrangement matched the recording I bought. I'm sure this made me seem really well-versed in music. Well, no. I just found the only copy the library had and used it.

I'm not sure if it was my own merit or my connection to Laura that got me in, but either way, I'm ok with it. If you're in the Boston area (or if you're not but you might come out just for fun), check out the concert schedule. Or you can become a BBC Insider to keep yourself informed of new developments and to receive pre-concert information and artistic notes. You can also win free tickets if you're an insider.

Cancún: I really did go

Click on the title to see the rest. No, I don't have a new camera. I bribed the boys at the photo shop with a tank of gas to make me a CD from my film images. Shot on Tri-X (400ISO)... not the best choice for the brightest sun ever, but that's what was in the camera and I didn't want to waste it.

What Do These Three Have in Common?

Michael Brown
John Bolton
Rafael Palmeiro

Think about it...

Education II

I ran into education man on the T again today. He had a box with him. I offered him my seat by vacating it. He declined. But someone else took it. So that was good.

What Now?

I was listening to Tom Ashbrook's show "On Point" on WBUR tonight; the story was about accountability regarding Katrina. Not surprisingly, they discussed Bush's flip flopping on the response being "unacceptable" and then the response ok, but the results unacceptable, and so on and so forth. They also talked about disaster response structure etc. His main guest was Robert Block, a WSJ journalist. Good story. But what do we do now? Wait for the investigation by Congress?

Like my buddy Laura, I want to write about something else. I want to hear something else on the radio. I want to read something else in the blogosphere. I want to see another picture on the cover of the Metro. At the same time, it's hard to want to take this off the front page. I don't want Bush/Rove et al to succeed in supressing this and filing it away into the notoriously poor collective U.S. memory. So what do we do?

Well, the poor evacuees don't want to come to Massachusetts. I think they probably saw the words "Nor'easter" and "Cape Cod" combined and decided it wasn't for them. They've already had enough of that, and they might as well have it where it's warm. Or maybe we're too bureaucratic. Or maybe they couldn't understand the accent. Or maybe we just don't have enough soul. Right. So what now? How do we keep the importance level high while not dwelling solely on this story?

I also hope that as much as we want to wipe out the stain George Bush has left on our country, we don't try to use this situation to do that. He may be culpable, but it's not likely that he will be held responsible enough to be impeached. We need to focus on root causes, rather than political issues. It makes for a much stronger argument than just saying I hate GWB over and over again.

We need to figure out how to deal with disasters better, like they do in Japan. Amazing that Typhoon 14, which was reportedly the same size as Katrina with slightly slower winds (something like 170mph), only leaves 18 dead and 9 missing. This is opposed to our "thousands" dead and countless missing. Should FEMA rejoin the cabinet-level organizations? How's Homeland Security? Maybe we could replace Mr. Brown with a nice Japanese ... woman.

How's Chertoff's "City of Louisiana" [sic]?

What do we do now? (I think it's pretty obvious by now that I do not know...yet)

Education

Last week, a man on the T was spouting off his opinion on "higher education." I initially agreed with his first comment: "Wouldn't Boston be nicer without the students?" Well, now that the students have returned to quite selfishly crowd the doors of the subway, yell outside my window all night, and cause certain sidewalks and subways stops to smell like vomit, I can agree that Boston is nicer without the students.

Then he decided to accuse the entire establishment of being a sham. "Do you know what professors are? They're people who have failed at life," he said. First of all, not all professors are life-long academics. Most if not all of them have done work outside of academia in many different countries and return to relay some of the knowledge they've gathered to share with the rest of us. Gracious of them really, as I'm sure some take pay cuts and make other concessions to do it. Mind you, he appeared to be addressing me (I have a hard time pretending not to hear), but there were several other people standing near me who appeared to be offended and perplexed by his comments.

As much as I might disagree with him, being a grad of this sham of an establishment, it does bring up the touchy issue of what a degree is worth. Is it just yet another sign of class used to separate the haves from the have-nots? Is it a four-year vacation for kids with no drive to do anything for themselves? How did an Anthropology degree prepare me for a job managing databases? How did I manage to spend four years in college and never take math? How do I have a job that is so potentially math-oriented without ever having taken math? Oh math.

Oh yeah, the guy on the train: he also brought up the propoganda issue. Yes, it is probably partially propoganda, but so is advertising by McDonald's. College provides a brand of propganda that encourages you to think for yourself--to reason. I have a hard time believing that the system is so tight and focused that it is driving us all in one direction. So I won't. Corporations like McD and Wal-Mart might be a little closer (or the Massachusetts Lottery which just told me, "Even if you don't win, you win. We all win.") to that level of organization. I think it's much better to be indoctrinated by a fight song and a feminist history teacher than an obesity-causing, human rights abusing, corporate America.

Classic Chrystina Optimism

So where's the good? It's been hard to find in the news, though there are stories of people finding people and re-uniting them with their families. The good I see is this: The disaster has (hopefully) awakened people to the frailty of our nation. It has also brought to the table a crisis that may have taken a lot longer to erupt if this hadn't happened: the energy crisis. The constant, but somewhat stable with inflation, rise in gas prices was not doing anything (or doing very little) to encourage people to use more efficient forms of transportation and/or energy. Did you notice that prices for other forms of energy are also increasing (the cost of wood, for example, has already gone up 15-25%). Maybe this sudden shock will alert people that we need to curb our dependence on oil and make use of more creative, sustainable energy sources. Crisis is the mother of a charismatic movement, necessity the mother of invention. Maybe the environmentalists will get some credit from this and not just for being bleeding heart liberals.

You know, I've kind of steered clear of the news on this blog and I feel a little cliche for only bringing it up now, but I simply can't think about anything else. Was this actually optimistic? I guess so. Maybe more like Eeyore optimism.

Surprise, surprise. Mr. Rove is covering up and redirecting blame for the missteps in dealing with Katrina.

SOLD! Red Sox Yankees Tickets Free

I saw the post below on craigslist. Good to see that people are able to help in creative ways. I did edit the post to convert it into coherent English for your reading pleasure. If you'd like to see the original, please click here, while it lasts, anyway. For those of you who don't live 0.43 miles from Fenway, Red Sox/Yankees tickets are like Willy Wonka's golden tickets.

If you want to contribute to the relief fund with your pocketbook, consider finding a matching donation program to double or triple your contribution. Your employer may also match donations.

Craigslist post (reply):
In the 15 minutes this has been posted, I have already received over 150 e-mails. As you see below I was going to give them away, but the generosity offered that I have seen in my e-mail is amazing. I just wanted everyone to know it is nice to see that there are still good people in this country. I will be e-mailing the person that offered the most money. The people of New Orleans need this more than I do for the $60 I paid for the tickets. Thank you all!

Original Post:
I have free Yankees / Red Sox tickets at Fenway. I will be in New Orleans working on the Katrina relief. If you wish to offer me money for the tickets, I will donate the money to the Red Cross.

The tickets are in the bleachers and are for the game 9/30. E-mail me if interested.

Villain

Before anyone starts thinking that I'm saying that this lawlessness in Louisiana is the fault of the poor black people who were stranded in New Orleans, let me clear something up. This morning's post was written in dismay and disgust and outrage and haste.

To quote a good friend ". . . i've got a big what the fuck for our government."

Also, let's not forget that yesterday, to exascerbate the problem (i.e. global warming which is pegged by science as the culprit), the administration is loosening "environmental regulations for gasoline and deisel for all 50 states through Sept. 15 because of a disruption in supplies caused by Hurricane Katrina. The waivers will allow gasoline with higher evaporation rates and diesel fuel with a higher sulfur content to be sold." (Boston Globe).

When I first realized that people had stayed in New Orleans after what I thought was declared a mandatory evacuation, I was perplexed. Then I heard men and women speaking from flooded houses saying things like "Well, I didn't really have anywhere to go." It wasn't just hard-headed irrationalism; it was the lack of means to get themselves to safety. Why was our government not there to assist these people then? If there's a mandatory evacuation, shouldn't officials be proactive and get people out? No, it's clearly more fun to go into the alligator-infested, polluted water of a flooded city to get them.

To quote Michael Moore in his open letter to GWB: "Any idea where all our helicopters are? . . . Also, any idea where all our national guard soldiers are? . . . I especially like how, the day after the hurricane, instead of flying to Louisiana, you flew to San Diego to party with your business peeps. "

All I'm trying to say is that my perspective isn't so naive. I was just absolutely taken aback this morning and after wiping back tears, I had to do something. So I wrote on my blog. Thanks for the responses, public and non-public.

Vulnerability

What does it take to convince people to see the consequences of their own actions? Hospitals in New Orleans are operating on limited electricity and NO plumbling. It's a filthy mess where corpses, unable to be refridgerated, are being kept in a stairwell and patients are being transported by personal watercraft. Why? Because the snipers on the roof scared away the national guard which was originally transporting the sick people in hospital gowns. WHAT THE FUCK!? The SNIPERS? Did anyone else lose it when they heard that? NPR reported that a 10-year-old girl was raped last night. Do these people just not have a conscience?

There's no communication system. There's not a body count because they haven't been able to get to all affected areas yet. Let's repeat this again: There's no running water in the hospital. Now that's sanitary. The national guard has been directed to shoot to kill to control the looters. Who can take advantage of such a vulnerable situation?

Please give these people patience.

How Many?

I'm not sure why, but when I first started it, the hit counter was a big secret. Well that's stupid. So, I've opened it up to the public and put it in a more visually accessible place. See the sidebar under Contributors if you're curious about who visits the site. Try clicking on the world map function in the left hand sidebar (when you're at sitemeter). That's pretty cool. It's even cooler if you look at Laura's sitemeter because there are more little dots in more little places.

So now you know: I'm stalking you too. At least I'm honest about it.

Balancing Act

Why do people always think it's weird when I tell them I want to meet a guy who turns off the lights when he leaves the room, doesn't use too much shampoo, and puts the recyclables in the recycling bin?

It's not "If Mr.X meets these criteria, then he's a contender." It's "If Mr.X doesn't meet these criteria, he's not a contender--or If he's going to be a contender, then he has to meet these criteria".

In symbolic logic: ~XMC-->~C or C-->XMC.

In other words: Being eco friendly is a necessary, but not a sufficient condition. I seriously should go to law school. I have issues.

It's a screen, not a mold. It's also not like I go around polling guys on how much shampoo they use.

Can you imagine? ..."So would you say that you use a dime size or a quarter size? How many ounces?"...

I just think I couldn't stand being with someone who did things that rub me the wrong way that badly. I also couldn't stand a guy who says things like "between you and I" or "where's your house at?"

Perfection is also scary ... so you know ... a balance.

New Google Tools

This post is sent to you from MS Word. What is this really? Google keeps coming up with new tools. It is really hard to try to keep up with all of this insanity. The baseball game continues as we crush Tampa Bay. Maybe I shouldn’t say crush. They appear to be coming back. 1 on 1 out in the 9th: Score 10-5, Sox. I moved furniture today. Big surprise. Right. I am sleepy.  

Burberry

By request, the Burberry story:

One day, when my Cancún platoon was swimming near the swim up bar, we saw a man getting into the pool with his 3-year-old daughter. He was the most enormous body-builder-type dude with 4-foot-wide shoulders and 1-foot wide hips. He looked like Mr. Incredible or some other cartoon body builder super hero. And he had chocolatey dark skin. We were so amazed by his build that we almost missed the teeny-weeny Burberry boxer-brief-style swim shorts.

The next day we saw him with the looser version of the shorts and his wife who had a matching Burberry suit. Quite the look.

The Stones

The Rolling Stones are playing at Fenway Park, which, as the crow flies, is 0.43 miles from my house. I can hear the concert bouncing off the apartment building across the street. It sounds like the music is coming from the wrong direction. Did I mention I'm glad I'm not moving? How many people get to live 0.43 miles from Fenway Park? How many people get to sleep to the soothing voice of Mic Jagger? Which one of you is going to come back to me with a smart answer telling me the population of the Fenway Neighborhood? Oh wait, my little once-wanted-to-be-an-urban-planner friend doesn't read this. Oh, but Mr. SEIU does. Maybe he'll know. Anyway, life is good and now I've officially turned this into a rambling post.

I think I have swimmer's ear again.

Burning Hot Death

Ok, I'm never travelling through Dallas again. I knew I was allergic to it, but I didn't know I was just unlucky in it too. Today I got out of customs and to my connecting flight without a hitch. I even found an ABP (Au Bon Pain). Then I got on my plane with the correct group number etc. Then it started to get hot. Then they told us the battery died on the plane which was why the A/C wasn't working. Then they told us that maintenance had flagged but not repaired the problem while it was in the hangar. Then they told us that they were pumping cool air into the plane but "for some reason" it wasn't making it to the vents. So we sat and roasted in the Dallas sun with the shades drawn to block out the heat. I tried to sleep. The man next to me was about 7 feet tall and completely hairless. As in he shaved his hair. Even from his knuckles and arms. It was growing back. I desperately wanted to ask why he was like that, but was afraid that he would look at me funny and I would suddenly be crushed by the idea of him not liking my question. So I didn't.

El Pequeño

Last night, after witnessing the wet body contest at a place called Dady [sic] Rock, I got on the bus to go back to the resort. It was fairly full, but this time not with drunken college students puking on my feet. It was actually pretty calm. Then El Pequeño worked his magic.

While I was at Dady Rock, on the outside patio, there was a 10-year-old boy with 3-D glasses and a striped blue T-Shirt sitting outside lipsynching what he thought were the words to popular American (English) songs. Pretty hilarous, but fairly disturbing that he was out there alone. I named him El Pequeño.

Back to the bus. El Pequeño was there to greet us. We get on the apparently calm bus and then it begins. BA BA BAMBA! El Pequeño started an entire bus of adults singing La Bamba and Tequila at 2:30 in the morning. Then he walked around and collected his payment. I gave him 8 pesos or so (80 cents). I probably shouldn't have encouraged this behavior since he's probably not in school because of it, but it was just so damn cute.

Battle of the Sexes, Cancún Style

I never expected to even leave the resort on the Cancún trip. It's not that I didn't want to, it's just that I didn't think that I would convince anyone else it was a good idea. I also thought that my group which consisted of 3 people under 15 and 3 over 40 plus me would be the youngest people there. And there would certainly not be many people my age. As it turns out, there weren't as many blue-haired wobblers as I expected and there were even a few folks within 5 years of my age. So by Tuesday I was in with the hip kids--or at least with the people my age who had been coming to Cancún for 20 years with their families. So, as a tradition (I gathered) we went to Fat Tuesday's on Tuesday.

As we arrived a Battle of the Sexes was just beginning. Six contestants --three men and three women--were involved in a game of musical chairs scavenger hunt. They were asked to find a lighter from someone in the audience... then boxers, a bra, a thong, and a tampon. Guys actually took their pants off to make this happen. They were all about 18 I think. Oh well. I danced all night and most of the morning. My favorite part was the MC's pronunciation of "gentlemen" which he repeated constantly through the night (most of this was conducted in English). He used a 'hard' g sound like the word 'guard'. Otherwise he sounded just like your usual, run-of-the-mill club-running, Estadounidense MC dude.

So what did I learn from this? I learned that the spring break crowd where a girl will flash her boobs to get a t-shirt that won't even fit her really does exist. And drunken 18-year-olds really don't know where they're going, where their friends are, or where their puke just went... like on my feet. Ok, close.

My Luxury Vacation in a Third World Country

It's not one swim-up bar: there were three--in the pools. There were also three beach bars which you can walk up to or the bartenders will walk (or sometimes run) out to you. The margaritas are a buck and a half during the 4-hour happy hour.

Yoga at 8am. Aqua Aerobics with the blue-haired wobblers at 11am. Beach Volleyball at 3pm. SpringBreak-esque nights until 3am. And not a single moment thinking about freaking spreadsheets.

I read The Kite Runner. Oh God it was good. I had to relinquish to my mother, however, so you can't borrow it until Thanksgiving.

Our maid's name was Eduardo and he was not a woman. A very friendly fellow, but he accidentally stole Olivia's baby blanket. It was returned.

I made guacamole with mango chunks in it. It rocked. I think I might go back and work as their guacamole maker/massage therapist. It's probably easier to get certified in Mexico, right?

I didn't see a whole lot of the evidence of Mexico being an underdeveloped country because I didn't leave the resort/American strip much. I did visit the Mayan ruins at Tulum, but that was as far off the beaten path as I got and let me tell you, that was pretty well beaten.

Next time, amigos, next time.

Time Lapse

Maybe I will be able to post from foreign land, but I'm going to doubt it. Despite all the other comforts, apparently high speed Internet is not among the amenities at the resort I'm visiting next week. Oh yes, I will be at a resort. A resort with a swim-up bar.

But for now, I am trapped in sports fan land. Soxfans are really funny to watch on the T. It's a bunch of suburban and often drunk, stoned, and generally unaware people riding a train for the first time. This would be fine except that baseball season is in the summer and drunk people are often also sweaty people.

So with the increased outside temperature, the influx of unaware people, the booze, the kids, and the general angst of all the rest of us, the T can become a place no one ever wants to be--a sardine can overstuffed with sweating, confused, foul-breathed masses. In fact, most daily commuters avoid the greenline like the plague if at all possible on game nights. I forgot to do that tonight.

It's really not surprising that it took me so long to catch on to baseball. First of all, I'm not sure I knew which one was 1st and which was 3rd a few years ago, and I always associated baseball games with a bunch of drunk drivers taking up my streets.

Oh but I love it now. It gives me a subject to discuss with people who have wicked thick Boston accents. That's not why I love it, but I do enjoy improving my Bostonian impression. Unfortunately, you can only do that by listening.

In case you haven't heard my shouting from the rooftop...

I'M NOT MOVING!!!!!! The thunderstorm sealed the deal and I made arrangements the very next day. I couldn't be happier, but I'm a little concerned about the fact that the girls I bailed on haven't gotten back to me. Maybe there's just a lot of hate. I can understand that.

Ottoman

Yesterday I took a half day and instead of getting blazed like I did last time with Leslie, I made an ottoman. Yes, an ottoman, like the empire. I stopped by the fabric store on the way home, got home, sat down at my sewing machine, and for three hours did nothing but sew. It was awesome. There's a big thanks in order for Laura here. The whole reason I now have an ottoman is because my Laura gave me/abandoned her feather bed when she left (abandonded me) for Japan. Until this weekend it was an eyesore, a giant blob of canvas and feathers. However, now it is the stuffing of my ottoman and I love it.

"Ottoman" count = 6

Then again, maybe not

Today I am doing everything I can to reverse the decision of yesterday. I am trying to stay at my current residence. I think I experienced my first sign.... Last night aroung 12:45 my building's fire alarm went off during a huge thunderstorm and there we all were in our jammies on the porch. It took the fire department a good hour and a half to arrive, so we got to bond... and then we bonded over cocktails. This was a pretty good sight for the firemen who showed up and must have thought we pulled the alarm. Even after the (healthy looking) firefighters left we stayed out on the porch with our drinks for another hour until 3am. It was then that I realized I really love my apartment and the people are great. Now I'm really determined to stay. It might be difficult to do now that my building's owner's son may be vying for my apartment, but I am going to try.

UPDATE: It appears that I am confirmed into my current place. I haven't yet signed a new lease, so keep your fingers crossed or knock on wood or whatever it is we need to do.

Brainstorming the Move

Reasons to leave current apartment:

1. The fact that I had several regularly-watched television programs last winter.
2. Switching trains on my commute.
3. The f***ing mouse.
4. Being the only one to take out the trash.
5. Paying for all the bills myself.
6. Paying more and more rent: the unpredictable nature of my rental agreement.
7. Distance from Cambridge.
8. Laziness as result of not having to clean up after self due to annoyance of roommates.
9. No built in buddies.
10. Getting stuck in my own ways and being intolerant to other lifestyles.


Reasons to stay in current apartment:

1. Friends down the street.
2. The Whole Foods (plus drug store, flower shop, hardware store, post office, radio shack, camera shop, ABP, Blockbuster, Indian Buffet, and yoga studio) next door or within 5 minutes.
3. Walk to Newbury/Fenway/MFA.
4. Friends in this neighborhood.
5. 25-foot brick wall.
6. Moving blows.
7. 5x5 closet
8. 450 square feet of my own.
9. No line for the shower.
10. Space and flexibility for guests at any time.


Reasons to move to new apartment:

1. Miracle of Science and Cuchi Cuchi next door.
2. Friends around the neighborhood.
3. Harvest Coop and Whole Foods, among other places to shop for food.
4. Ability to participate in Boston Organics or CSA veggies.
5. Sharing utilities.
6. Cheaper rent.
7. One train to the office.
8. One bus to Boston, back to the old stomping ground.
9. Summer festivals and other community events.
10. Not turning into a hyper-idiosyncratic monster.
11. It would be really bitchy to back out now.

Blahston to Lamebridge

Oh moving.... I was all excited and now I just think it is a bust. I have moved every single year since I moved to college. Moving is not fun even if it does include built in exercise. (I love multi-purpose events, especially when one of them is exercise.)

I have a stack of paper boxes in my office ready to pack. I hate packing. I want my mommy.

And who is going to help me move?

I want my mommy.

Oxymoronic T-Shirt

Today I saw a guy wearing a T-Shirt that said "Live Nude." Wouldn't that work better in body paint? Maybe the oxy was intentional.

Half Days Are Cool... Glug Glug

Today Leslie left me. That bitch. But not before liquoring me up at Parrish. Dear god save me if I ever hear the word "sparkling" again. Why did we follow the Russian's suggestion to have that last glass? We are not smart. At least we snuck into the 4 seasons servant's bathroom. Hell yeah. And we drank their lemonade. Then we had some Gatorade. There is not enough Gatorade in this world. I would like some more. We might have pissed off our friends due to lack of understanding in the phone communication business. They say they're not pissed. They might be anyway. Dear Jill, I love you.

I Love My Friends

They are sleeping at my house. It is great. Laura is not here though. Not so great. We talk about her and all think she is great, so that's great. Very good and great (to quote someone I no longer know). They are leaving me again soon on Wednesday and Thursday. Not very good or great.

Tie Thai Pants

It's not as easy as it might seem. Tieing Thai pants is actually quite an art, but as it turns out, you can learn how on the internet. Unfortunately, it doesn't tell you how to handle the inevitable: the embarassing moment when your tie fails you. For me it was in the sanctuary of a church this morning. I must be pretty lucky.

Anna is going to kill me.

First of all, I'm really sorry, Anna, but it was really fun.

Tonight I went contra dancing.

I've had plans to go with Anna for, well, ever since I've known her and that's at least a year and a half. Sad because she wasn't there tonight. We'll go, though, Anna, I swear. Anna describes contra as "the best parts of line dancing mixed with the best part of square dancing." Of course you're thinking, "an what in heaven's name would that be?" Well, it's pretty hiliarious. I was terrible, but did alright by the last dance three hours later. I think you have to see it to understand and appreciate. Let's just say lots of guys asked me to dance. Lots of really old sketchy guys.

Some of them are pretty good dancers, though.

Fortunate

We live in a country where the most degenerated looking homeless person can be seen reading the news paper. How is this possible? Places like Niger have 15% and lower literacy rates and our poorest of poor know how to read. If we can do this, why can't we figure out diplomacy? Why can't we solve bigger problems?

Thieves!!

Last night I went to the fridge to open the bottle of wine I brought from Boston. It wasn't there. No, I'm not just losing it. I know that I offered it to my friend (who declined) on Tuesday night and I was looking right at it then. And, no, I didn't drink it in a stupor on my own.

Do you know who I think stole it?

The neighbor.

The only mystery that remains was whether it was the Mom (37+), the Daughter (17), or the Son (14).

I'm pretty sure the mom already drank some of the open wine earlier in the week, but this is a new low. This is the same person who stranded me at the shipyard for 2 hours. I guess leaving the doors unlocked is not such a good idea when you have sneaky little meddling neighbors.

Needless to say, I am both pissed and utterly surprised that anyone would do such a thing.

Expenses incurred (thus far) on this housesitting excursion that I will not recover:

Bottle of wine
Tank of gas for an SUV
$40 parking ticket
Awful food from non-WholeFoods location (I am spoiled)

Skipper is Bad

Today I came home and he was inside. This was because he was so excited to see the neighbors that he bounded over the fence to see them, breaking it in the process. Since the neighbors were practicing their golf swing, they put him inside. So I took him for a walk to let out a little steam as soon as I arrived. Well, he wanted to let off more steam than I was comfortable with. We never walk with a leash in the park, so we didn't this time. Too bad he found a girl dog he liked. It was so embarrassing. He is the nicest dog, but he's ridiculously disobedient. I was yelling at him in the meanest tone I could muster, but he wouldn't stop trying to hump this poor dog. The owner asked if he was neutered and I said I didn't know... because I don't. He's very fluffy, so it's hard to tell. Then she kind of freaked out because this would not be a pretty baby. The girl dog was only about 35 lbs and had short brown and black hair. This is not a good mix with an 80 lb white Labradoodle.

We finally separated them and I dragged him by the collar out of there. He didn't leave my side the rest of the walk because he knew he was in trouble. When we got home he humped a pillow from the couch. Nasty feak-o. I made him stop. It was gross.

He's spent now. Passed out in the living room.

Skipper is Rad

Skipper is the dog I'm staying with while his family is away.

We went to Nantasket Beachtoday and cruised the boardwalk (ok sidewalk--no dogs allowed on beach). I was wearing a bikini and the dog was, well, nude. We were quite the pair. He's big and fluffy and weighs about 80 lbs. I get lots of "who's walking who?" comments. Whom, you idiots: who's walking whom. And, I think it's clear. His name is Skipper; he's the captain; I'm just the first mate.

Yesterday we did the Fens neighborhood and park. I think next weekend we'll be ready for Newbury street.

The drivers in Nantasket are jerks.

Adventures in Hingham

Things that have gone wrong:
1. The one night I got home at the late old hour of 9pm, the neighbor was IN my house feeding the dog (and I think drinking our wine).
2. Last night, driving home in flash flood conditions, I got lost for about half an hour or more on a road that would have taken me there anyway.
3. I parked today in a place that magically turns into resident only parking at 6pm. I knew this, but forgot momentarily and wasn't keeping track of time. I got a $40 ticket. Thanks Boston. That was one expensive dog walk and house cleaning. I should have just hired someone else to do it.
4. I couldn't for the life of me find the lids to any of the pots and pans until emailing the owner of the house.

Things that are awesome:
1. I really like this dog even though he smells a little bit bad.
2. I get to read the paper while drinking coffee that was served to me on a boat on the way to work.
3. I am the youngest person on that boat.
4. The boat is full (which means that many people are not driving into Boston further polluting the air etc.)

Things that are just plain strange:
1. I picked up poop at 6:30 on Thursday morning.
2. I almost vomited right there defeating the purpose of picking it up in the first place.
3. The dog has Lyme disease, so I have to give him pills. I tried the Vet method of opening his mouth, sticking the pill in the back, and forcing him to keep it closed until the pill is gone. But, well, we didn't really synch so well on that, so I resorted to the peanut butter on graham cracker method. He loves peanut butter.
4. Me driving a car. I've realized that I'm probably not the world's gift to driving. I'm pretty curteous and cautious, but not entirely comfortable with the whole thing. Pedestrians love me. People behind me hate me. I'm slow.

A Big Fat Juicy Post For Amy

It has been a whirlwind lately. A week of 12-hour days with a racing yacht trip in the middle. A week in Idaho. Another week of 12 hour days. Three days in Indiana, Kentucky, Ohio and a brief visit to Pennsylvania. And the launch of our new index. Somehow vacation hasn’t really been vacation. I mean, while I was there I was carefree, fat and sassy. But I came back to piles of work. That’s what I get for having a vacation scheduled for June when we reconstitute our indices. (You don’t want to know).

Currently I am sitting on the biggest pontoon boat I have ever seen. It is called the Queen Vittoria and it is taking me to Hingham Shipyard. They serve beer but I have no cash. What a freaking pity. We’ll fix that next time. My muscles from the waist up are screaming in pain from being dragged behind a boat for hours 2 days in a row. As dramatic as it sounds, it did involve skis and inner tubes. It also involved bouncing around and knocking heads with my cousins. So I have a few bruises… and nylon burns.

I’m not sure if some of you coastal people are aware of this, but the pounds per capita ratio in the Midwest is MUCH higher than that of the coasts. There are more overweight people and I’m sure what constitutes “fat” is way bigger than it is here. The people are HUGE. Why do we think this is? Is it environmental? As in, there’s not the threat of a beach, so they just don’t worry? Is it just too freaking muggy? Is it cultural? Being heavier is considered more attractive? Is it socio-economic? Do they not have money for healthy food and gym memberships? Combination of cultural/socio-economic? Being fat means you’re wealthier because you have more food?

The last argument is the one I would use for the obesity in West Africa considering the severe lack of food in many families, and from my experience, the richer people are fatter—unless they are slightly more progressive and have taken a more Western approach to what is healthy. I do not think this argument works here, however. Maybe it once did, but now it’s just disgusting. People don’t just have nice juicy butts, they have nice juicy everything. Many look like they’re barely able to walk. The boat I’m on has about 30 people in the room where I’m sitting. One or two might qualify for overweight, and none for obese. I can guarantee that the statistic in the Cincinnati airport was quite different—the Cincinnati airport being a giant bus station with wings like Midway used to be.

This brings me to my next subject: The Cincinnati airport. It was so funny, I was in a terminal that had about 8 foot ceilings and ground-level doors. All planes were boarded from the tarmac. On the ride to Philadelphia (the notoriously inefficient Philadelphia), the pilot told us to look out the window. So I did, and I saw not only the 15 or so fireworks shows going on in Philly, but also the shows in “our nation’s capital, Washington, DC”. The big ones in Philly were the best because we were a little closer to them at that point. Just before we were allowed to remove our seat restraints (I mean, belts), we were told to have a great fourth of July and were wished to live all the days following in freedom. How nice. Freedom from those filthy gay people and baby killers, right? Yeah, that’s what I thought.

Have you all seen the cartoon that has Bush in front of the “MISSION ACCOMPLISHED” banner where the second frame has a few missing letters so that it says “____I__ ______LI__ED”? It’s pretty good.

Coming back to obesity: I think it’s the cars. Yep, the only reason I exercise is because I have to in order to get anywhere. I’m sure the fact that people can drive through their McDonalds (and now Starbucks) rather than walk to it has something to do with the obesity problem in the less densely populated cities which constitutes most of the Midwest. I noticed that the restaurant in Hingham (where I was stranded for nearly 2 hours) had a few overweight smoker types--this is a place with cars and cigarettes. That’s the other thing. People smoke more in the Midwest. I’m sure there’s a series of questions and answers that could be played in that game, but since you’re already bored, I’ll refrain.

P.S. Almost all of my people are back in the USA. Happy 4^th of July to me! (Now if Laura would just come and live with me I would be complete. Too bad Leslie's planning on leaving me again for Nicaragua, Amy's not back 'til Thursday, and Jill is moving to Kentucky.)

ROCKSTAR!!!

I went to the Brazilian Girls concert last night and it was freaking delicious. The opening band, Tortured Soul (from Brooklyn, New York), was also good. I went with the most lushious of my coworkers and we had a smashing time. Who knew you could have so much fun with work people. I don't think we spoke one sentence about work. It was great. Probably helped by the fact that we decided to do shots before getting on the T, where we did pull ups. Then we tried to juggle in a convenience store and someone tried to teach us. Unsuccessfully.

The concert was a big sweaty sex pit. Sort of. A german guy tried to dance with me which was ok, but then he put his mouth on my face which was gross. Some people would call this a kiss, but I called it a slobbery mouth on my face. Yuck. Sabina, the lead singer, and her boys are all about as hot as they can be. Go see these babies in concert.

I am for real:

I know what you're going to say: The white knuckle grip and the wind in my eyes make me look dead sexy... I know. Well, at least it's a record that I really did drive a really big ship.

Reality Check

You know you're old when all of the draft picks of the Boston Red Sox were born after you. Isn't life scary?

So What Happened?

We went grocery shopping. No, really, it was an experience. It was like a clearance sale. Even in the boonies (McCall is population 5,000) everything is super cheap--especially when someone else decides he is going to pay for it and not going to take no for an answer (thanks Ryan).

We went on a hike through the woods behind the cabin. We almost killed a baby bird and I lost my sweatshirt. Then we found it thanks to the photo record. We learned that piles of sticks are bouncy and that you shouldn't walk on wet logs. But doing balancing yoga postures on them is fun--albeit dangerous.

We had some friends up for the weekend and cooked steak and asparagus on the grill. There is only one way to cook asparagus: On the Grill. I can't wait to have a grill. We also had some kick ass mashed potatoes.

The next day we went out to go mountain biking. After getting lost for about an hour on a beautiful ridge in the car, we found our trail. We reassembled all of our wheels and headed up the mountain. Then one of the handle bars came loose. We discovered that one of our cohort lost his allen wrench on the last trip out. So, we packed up the bikes and trekked up the hill by foot with the dog. Fine by me. I was scared of all the cliffs and rocks and slippery roots anyway. We hiked about 12 miles in total. It was on and off perfect sun and downpours of hail and rain. On the way back, the temperature dropped about 10 degrees in 10 minutes and just dumped hail on us. Thank goodness for the rain jacket.

We went back home after thoroughly wearing out the laborador and built a fire. Then we heated up the grill and made some chicken and corn on the cob. Plus a few potatoes. And a few beers. I know food maybe isn't the most exciting thing to some of you, but the whole food cooked on a grill thing is pretty foreign to City Girl McGee I realized I've become.

Next day was water skiing and wake boarding. I got up on a slalom ski on the first try. That might have had something to do with the impossibly cold water. (Elevation 5000+ feet). Luckily, there was a wetsuit that "fit" me at the cabin. It was a child's size 12. As it turns out, 12 year olds don't have hips... and perhaps a few fewer vertebrae.

I'll continue later. One step at a time. So we're up to Sunday.

Bringing Back the Goods

This will be quick because I have a million things to do. I just hopped off the plane from Boise. I wish I could hop back on. The Idaho trip was a blast. The ride there was painfully long and included a little jaunt through the mini terminal in an island in the middle of the San Fransisco tarmac that was frequented by mini planes that go to places like Chino. It was cute but stuffy. I got on the plane (and so did someone who was trying to go to Albuquerque... fitting) and sat next to someone who had just married a woman named Wy Lin (spelling is likely off). She sort of speaks English and he speaks "some" Mandarin. I wonder how meaningful that relationship is... There was also a couple who had brought back a baby girl (very cute). Turns out China is supplying the U.S. with its population. Fine by me, but funny.

On the way back I luckily only had to stop in Chicago, which unlike San Fran is actually on the way. Almost missed the flight though since my first one was very non-chalantly 30 minutes late which gave me about 20 minutes to make the final boarding call and O'Hare is mammoth.

There are lots of things to say about the actual trip, but for now you get the there and back again stories. Yes, I quoted and referenced the Lord of the Rings too much. I tried not to, but it just fits so well into everyday life that I really couldn't avoid it.

20 Answers

1. I spent almost 12 hours in the office today. No matter how important you are, this should not be done. Yet, I feel strangely not too tired.
2. I still didn't get everything done.
3. There were far too many crises this morning.
4. I am wearing a floppy sun hat and I just noticed that my heartbeat is being echoed in the vibration of the hat.
5. Yes, it is 10pm.
6. No, I haven't packed.
7. I'm going to Idaho.
8. Yes, it will be fun.
9. I'm also going to the Brazilian Girls concert with 4 other people.
10. That will definitely be fun.
11. I had to give up on getting them in person and went ahead and paid The Man.
12. I hate paying The Man. I'd rather pay The Girls.
13. The Red Sox are winning.
14. How could that be Blahston?
15. Ok, there are certainly down sides to having an MLB team in your back yard, but I could think of worse things.
16. Like a bad mariachi band.
17. My head is 2 inches smaller than my waist.
18. I measured.
19. There is definitely something wrong with me.
20. It is cold.

Will Curiosity Kill the Visits?

I hope not, because I am curious and I can't help it. I've been trying to fight the urge to ask this, but I'm caving. If you are visiting from a Harvard computer, please tell me who you are. You've been visiting my site lately, and the mystery is starting to get to me. I manage information. I need it to survive. Give me data. No really. I have a feeling this will end up being less exciting than I am hoping, but anyway, send me an email. Address is in the sidebar. It's not fair that you get to keep tabs on me but I don't know who you are. I understand that life isn't fair and I did this to myself, but I reserve the right to ask about my visitors. Maybe you will like me and not make me feel like an object like some other people I know. One can hope. Secret pent up anger? Me? Never.

Why did I do this? Oh God. I've lost my mind. I'm stalking my stalker. There's just something not quite right about that.

The Littlest

Yet again, I was the littlest. I've been the Littlest Christmas Tree, the littlest employee, and now the littlest member of the yachting team. Ok, I wasn't really on a yachting team, but I got to pretend for a minute. Yesterday for "work" I went on a racing yacht that has traveled around the world. The boat is a 72 foot boat identical to its peers in the race. The teams are comprised of one professional skipper and 17 amateur sailors--from novice to lived-life-on-a-boat. The average age is approximately 35 partially because it costs $60,000 to go, despite heavy corporate sponsorship. The race lasts 9 months and travels from Portsmouth, UK to Buenos Aires, New Zealand, Australia, Cape Town, Boston, La Rochelle in France, and back to Portsmouth. I got to go out on the boat and while it was my turn to steer I got to drive us under the Tobin Bridge, which I thought we were definitely going to hit with our 100' mast. We didn't. Then we turned around and went South. On the trip, I discovered my camera battery had all but died, I had wine spilled on my pants--my new pants, I might add, and I burned my nose to a crisp because I refused to wear the goofy hat. Should have done that because now I look like Rudolph. Oh yeah, how was I the littlest? Well, all of my other corporate sailors (we were all invited by Factiva, the news service we use at the office, to take part in the event) were older than my parents. It was pretty funny. I bet most of them thought that I must be older than I look. Everyone seems to think I'm really young these days. Except one person who thought I was approximately 28--but that's another story.

And Here's Proof

Click the link above to see that I actually was in the race. Unfortunately, it's a pic of the beginning, but I promise I finished. Oh yeah, I'm in light blue shirt with matching headband toward the top right corner. Looking very serious with my sunglasses...


I RAN 3.5 MILES

No, I really did. I stopped for water twice without much luck and got stuck in traffic a couple of times, but made it in 42 minutes. Now you're thinking "damn, she's slow", but you have to understand that I don't do aerobic exercise. Yoga is all done in a 2' x 6' space with no equipment. I didn't even think about training for this, so 12 minute miles is not bad if you ask me. Then I drank a beer and a half. My teammates ate pizza, but the overloaded with Feta greek salad was what appealed to me. Not that you care. Not that I care.

Anyhow, let's just say the shower I just now finally took was desperately needed.

I might not feel so hot in the morning. Then again, considering it's 90 degrees right now, I might.

Syndication

Syndication just means getting a news feed when the blog is updated. You can get this in several ways. There are news readers out there that you can download and then subscribe to different RSS feeds (i.e. if you have a news page, friend's blog, other freq. updated sites) you like to visit, you can add them and get updates without having to check the site. I am not actually familiar with any of these programs so I can't help you.

You can also set up a home page like my.yahoo.com to read it for you. In my yahoo, if you go to Add Content there is a little link beside the Search button that says "add RSS by URL". Click on this, then add the feed's site. In my case (and for most blogger accounts) this is http://touristabostonia.blogspot.com/atom.xml

If you have Firefox, you can get the site's feed as a bookmark, so instead of showing up as a link button, it looks more like a folder that lists recent posts. It's pretty cool (and it updates faster than my yahoo). To do this, go to the site you want to track and look at the bottom right corner of you browser window. If there is a little orange icon there, click on it and choose to subscribe to the site. It will ask you where you want to put it. I'll leave that up to you. I created a folder of blogs on my bookmark bar where I can check them all and I'm pretty pleased with that.

Sweaty Goodness

I'm sure that it will get a bit old after a while, but right now I couldn't be happier about the fact that my yoga shirt feels like my wet t-shirt contest shirt. It's thoroughly drenched, and I wasn't even in an intentionally hot yoga class. You know you're ridding yourself of toxins when your calves bead up with sweat.

The sun has finally made an appearance and has drawn out all the strapless tops. I never in my wildest dreams thought that a strapless top would be possible without goosebumps. There were literally times this winter/spring that I couldn't remember what it felt like to leave the house without a jacket. My friends who come over frequently came over last night for an impromptu dinner party and when they left I genuinely thought they had forgotten something since it's always such an operation at the door with layers and boots and all. As it turns out, all they needed was a pair of sandals. How freaking weird?

On the other hand, it's 10 degrees warmer than Long Beach, CA and I can almost guarantee it's more humid too. I'll take it, however, to a nor'easter.