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.)