Just a break from the regularly scheduled program to urge everyone to take a quick click over and VOTE FOR TRACEY to be a 2010 Ennies Judge.
I won't claim to totally (or, um, hardly at all really) understand this whole "tabletop roleplaying gaming" thing, BUT do I know that they are pretty high on the Geek Hierarchy, so you better just shake a tail feather over there and vote....FOR TRACEY.
Ok, ok, you "due process" people out there might want to read her credentials, but I can basically assure you that she (that would be TRACEY) is the most rockin' nominee. "The election uses a Single Transferable Vote system, which means you must numerically rank the candidates" -- so you should PUT TRACEY AT #1! Then throw some extra lovin' at whomever you want. However, a little birdie told me, that Megan Robertson, Kennon Bauman, Jeramy Ware, Kennon Bauman, and C.W. Richeson are all solid picks (after TRACEY, of course!)
Completely non-subliminally, though, if you haven't gotten my point here yet, it's that you should most definitely VOTE FOR TRACEY!
A throwback to earlier days at The Biscuit, formerly Toscanini, formerly Panini (or where ChoBo and I used to do our weekend post-game.) Things are a little different now, but I think our three newbies -- one husband and two kids -- only make weekend coffee all the better. Well, that and not hangover vomming beforehand in the back dumpster. Tee hee?
Cho + Bobby held their *9TH* annual Vinterfest Scandinavian-themed winter party tonight. The food and company was, as always, amazing. This year, an addition to the dessert spread -- waffles!
In case anyone remembers the almond/rice pudding tradition, yes, we all ate TWO BOWLS of rice pudding before Jeffé revealed that he got the lucky nut...for the third time (le sigh.)
“A little House well fill'd, a little Field well till'd, and a little Wife well will'd, are great Riches”
– Benjamin Franklin
C O N G R AT S to Jeffé and Claire Voyant on taking advantage of that 2009 tax credit and BUYING A HOUSE! I've been lucky enough to see the new manor and it is a very charming place indeed, with lots of nooks and crannies, quirky historical details, and a big yard with almost any kind of plant imaginable, including strawberries. YUM.
(Here is the nested couple with the letter "O" that Sarah won at the BoNE Show Opening. She said that the piece will hang in the office, like "O for Office.")
The idea that two of my favorite Ohioans, The Polish Princess and Mad Hungarian, have already come and gone -- plus a week -- stuns me! I also cannot believe that Amy and I haven't seen each other in person for two long years of weekly phone dates. Plus, now the Heir is in the picture (literally -- see below) so I can't help but feel like a third party was hanging out as well for our Northeastern weekend.
We had a great visit -- lots of beer for "the Marks," wine for Blogorelli, and spritzers for the PP. Took PP and MH to all our favorite local haunts, and even a not-so-local one -- Salem. There's something about seeing truly "ode" friends that makes a gal remember the now-distant days when she was table dancing to the Go-Gos in Cincinnati like yesterday. Le sigh.
A grey day near the sea in Salem -- but I love our Spring-y citrus bursts of color (purse and scarf.)
Me: Sorry that I bitched at you about parking.
Murf: It's ok, just don't push me into the harbor...Harpy.
We learned this gesture from Asian tourists in Europe eight years ago...and have yet to let it go. Aaargh!
Eastern European triumvirate, brunch version
Bump! Buuuuuump! B U M P !!!!!!
BIG NEWS came yesterday morning:
P Natty proposed to Lil' Kim this past Saturday and she accepted! Yipppppeeeeeeeee!!!!!!
I (and many others, of course) feel completely and utterly thrilled for fiancé and fianceé! Now, there are officially three couples in The Gang who are engaged (Patrick/Kim, Me/Prof, The Nachos). I sense an excuse for a get together with many champagne toasts.
Best wishes and Congratulations to the happy couple...we've all had so many adventures together over the past six (!) years, and this may be the biggest one of all!
Lots of lovies,
The past looong weekend seemed to hold so much time that I managed to cram in a ton of fun and productive activities...
On Friday night, The Prof and I bid a fond adieu to his friend Beth as she prepared to begin her adventure in the Princeton Libraries (starting today!) As a tribute to 'DaVille, we brought Dial-a-Pizza; the pie was a hit -- and gone before I could snag a slice. Beth had a bookshelf of "free" items that partygoers could take (great idea to shed belongings pre-move,) and we got a vegetarian one pot recipe book, which I'm excited to try come fall.
Saturday morning, I headed to Sofra in Cambridge solo to meet up with Half Pint, Mr. Car, and baby Will P. Unfortunately, the bakery was mobbed and didn't have any tables, just benches along the windows (not so baby friendly;) we met at Vicki Lee's instead for some breakfast goodies. Will Parker slept the entire time <le sigh> but I was happy to visit with the slightly tired parents and see their new VW Jetta sports wagon, which I now covet after Mr. Car showed off the massive amount of cargo space.
The bright Sunday morning offered the perfect day to head out to Walden Pond with the Dairy Queen/Skydiving in Stilettos. We hung out, swam (her,) read wedding planning books (me,) and just enjoyed the uniquely New England-ness of our surroundings. The evening brought a cookout at The Prof's friend NPY's apartment, where we finally got to play Wii! After a little drumming in Rock Band and a few sets of tennis, I declared that if The Prof registers at Home Depot, then I'm making my wild card location Best Buy. The only things on my registry will be a Wii and Wii accessories.
When I woke up on Monday, Friday seemed about 100 years ago -- not a bad thing. The Prof and I suited up and went to meet Cho and the BBK for a little adventure at Good Harbor Beach in Gloucester. The weather cooperated perfectly again, and watching the BBK manically run into the waves and back onto shore in concentric circles, stopping only to bring little handfuls of saltwater to his mouth and take a hearty lick (how much do I love this kid?), I had to admit the weekend worked New England's trifecta on me: great weather, beautiful scenery, fun activities. I don't often admit the thought, but sometimes I simply love living in Boston. There, I typed the words, put it in your pocket for the next six months (during which time I'll be bitterly hating the winter weather. Harumph.)
The day ended with hot dogs in Rockport, car washing at home, beers on the porch, planting some mums for fall, and a delicious dinner while watching Season 3 of Lost. What a life, sometimes...what a life.
Peg Leg Inn or Motel Peg Leg? Guess that choice depends on preference and means.
Today is Cho's birthday -- yea! As a preamble, last night I planned a surprise girls' night out. First, we went to Inman Oasis for an hour soak in the Japanese wooden tub. Though no 10,000 Waves or Shoji Retreat, the facilities were clean and our time there relaxing. We then proceeded to the bar at Oleana to wait for our table outside.
There's more to this story...but I'll have to wait until I get home tonight to tell because lunch hour is over.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CHO -- Glasses Up to You!!!
How much do I love feeling inspired by my friends' accomplishments?
A big and proud shout-out to The Dairy Queen, who not only finished the New York Road Runners' Half-Marathon last weekend, but logged in her best time yet!
She's working towards running a full marathon in the fall. Me? I'm working towards running, period.
The words "Elizabethan," "collar," and "midnight" usually evoke a different meaning to most people than this:
The Dairy Queen's poor cat Midnight! She has an ear isssue and has to wear this horrible-yet-amusing-looking plastic funnel when her owner is out. I gotta say, though...besides pets in outfits, nothing raises my mood more than a good old Elizabethan (pet) collar photograph.
For 28 years, I've called exactly three woman on Mother's Day: my own dear Mam, my Italian Nona, and my Hungarian Gammy. This year my call volume just skyrocketed, I mean, it was absolutely obscene, basically doubling. I guess it's a change of life...like, the one before you are 'flashing' hot and not growing leg hair any more.
Speaking of little ones, The Professor and I babysat for his niece last weekend so that his sis and her hub could catch an afternoon movie:
The Prof and Niamh bond through Dr. Seuss:
I've always been a bit 'different' in relating with, well, everyone. ARGH! :
by The Polish Princess
"Everyone who knows me, knows that I secretly <3 pop music. It's shameless. I absolutely delight in purchasing $.99 singles of the current "Pop Hit DuJour". Somehow, I think my father forbidding me to purchase cassette singles back in the day lead to this obession. I've always justified these purchases by balancing them out with indie selections. This makes me feel like the combination of my great taste and "bad" taste somehow make me "even" in the end.
I'm 28 years old, I've love bubble gum pop, and it's helping me become popular with the 17 year-olds at work. So it's all good. And with the confession complete, I present my list of current Top 40 "must haves". Feel free to secretly download them...and enjoy. };)
1. Lost Without U, Robin Thicke : This song is an unbelievably catchy R&B *groooove*. What makes it sweeter is that Robin wrote the song for his wife while he was going through a difficult time (namely, poor record sales on his Grammy award-winning debut album). His gorgeous wife appears in the video with him. Also interesting to note: his father is everyone's favorite TV dad, Alan Thicke. (BLOGORELLI NOTE: I was wondering about that last name!)
2. U + Ur Hand, Pink : Pink just kicks ass and this song is no exception. It's particularly good if you feel yourself starting to slack on the treadmill. Put this song on, and you'll be back on top in no time.
3. Glamorous, Fergie : I know, I know...Fergie??? Seriously? Admittedly, I'm not a big fan of "The Dutchess". In fact, I find her pretty obnoxious and didn't realize this song was hers until after I was already hooked. But my Top 40 rule is this: love the song regardless of the artist. When it comes to pop music, there are often songwriters and producers who do a lot of the leg work. Case in point: "Since you've been gone". This track would have been great, regardless of who recorded it.
Here's one more sort of 'indie' pick...to balance out all that pop
4. Don't Feel like Dancin', Scissor Sisters : Quite simply if you don't feel like dancin' when you hear this song, then something is seriously wrong."
(BLOGORELLI NOTE: I have a little 'confession' on my own...that I lifted the boombox graphic in the header from Fred Flare's pocast, which everyone should definitely check out to rock out!)
This guy just can't stay away from wood...
from the Salem News :
Firewood sculpture ignites conversation in North Beverly
By Martina Brendel , Staff writer
"For Andy Warhol, it was a Campbell's soup can.
For Marcel Duchamp, a urinal.
For the landscape design team at... an upscale North Beverly design firm, a single cord of firewood was its muse.
Last month, [Employee X, Employee Y and Bobby Crocker] spent a day arranging $300 worth of firewood in cascading piles on either side of the entrance to the firm's office building...They dubbed their creation 'The Firewall.'
'There was a lot of traffic when we put it up,' said [Employee X,] an associate architect. 'People were slowing down, asking what it was. Some said, 'Light it up!' There was a lot of commentary.'
The wood piles are actually the firm's holiday decorations, [Employee X] said. Every year around Halloween, the staff brainstorms a new way to decorate their iconic purple building for the holidays.
...'A lot of people get wood to stack out front in the winter,' Employee X said. 'This was our mimicking that and asking, 'How can you do it differently?'
Their original design featured a series of 'cairns,' or rock piles, made of wood. They had to abandon it, however, because the piles kept falling over. Their next idea was to build a wall of interlocking horizontal and vertical logs. That, too, failed.
'After many attempts, we decided just stacking it was the best way,' Employee X said.
They settled on two cascading semicircles of wood flanking the building's walkway...the shape is abstract and not meant to represent anything, though some have likened it to a handlebar moustache.
The sculpture will be up until the spring, then four lucky employees get to take the firewood home."
Everyone gets their 15 minutes...for me, it was Britney's Spear's marital prognosis, for Bobby Crocker, firewood. Fifteen minutes for all, but unfortunately, no choice as to why.
Once again, the magical "day after Thanksgiving" is here, signaling the true start of yuletide insanity around the country. Tonight, the news will report tramplings at Walmarts, facial burns at Dunkin' Donuts, and the countdown to December 25th.
Someone is starting earlier than usual this year. Bobby Crocker, you're such a sneaky elf!
Date: Mon, 10 Jul 2006 09:03:56 EST)
a few things:
- how was lake pushaw/fishing?
- vinz is due wed, but no "movement" on that front yet. pretty sure he'll be late. i got confused by your text yesterday bc Vinny is in the shop and that's been on my mind. so that's why i said the baby was "in the shop." he is, in fact, still contained within Cho's stomach
- GO ITALIA!
Date: Mon, 10 Jul 2006 09:11:56 EST)
yes, ha!, I realized after a while that you probably got that confused but I thought "in the shop" meant still in the belly.
- - - - - - - -
There's it is, the proof of my complete oblivion to the situation at hand, and recorded by my beloved technology even! As of today (one day prior to the due date)…bebe is still "in the shop." Vinny, though, is due home from the garage tonight. Bubba ChoBo looks to be staying in a bit longer. He maybe needs a few final tweaks...perhaps a spoiler, possibly some hot pin-stripes and a surround-sound scream system install before he pulls out and burns some
(Below: One might be appalled at how many photos come up on Google when the search terms are "driving a car" and "baby." Really, parents...you should be ashamed!)
According to my spies, Bobby (and, by association, Cho) got some Dance 360 action going at the wedding reception they recently attended in San Francisco.
What began as a little harmless Tag Your Man* quickly escalated into a feverish Head To Head** when Bobby noticed another lithe male guest slickly breaking out moves described as "all bendy-like." Fueled by alcohol and the sheer competitive spirit seen only when a man tries to best another while consciously showing no acknowledgement of the second male's existence, Elast-o Man and Bobby continued to party like it was 1999...for four hours straight.
Cho, stone cold sober and observing most of the evening from her chair, said she'll never forget the sight. And apparently neither will her family, who were in attendance and had never seen Bobby bust moves at a wedding reception (or otherwise.) They talked about his fancy-free footwork for the rest of the weekend...
"Look!" Cho's mother cheerily joked in her French accent when a television show came on with people doing crazy dances, "Eetz Bobby!"
(SIDENOTE: I've only been in one dance battle myself, when my brother's ex-girlfriend and I had a Dance Dance Revolution face-off at Dave & Buster's in Pittsburgh. Though many of my most embarrassing pitfalls have been documented on this blog and by family members/friends in a format most historians would call "verbal folk tales," I can say with certainty that DDR made me feel my most clumsy in years. Why, my own mother was laughing so hard watching that she actually cried. As one cousin said after hearing that I broke my arm on the Park City snowboarding trip, "Well, we always knew that you weren't exactly graceful on your feet.")
The San Fran "Duel of Dance" ended in a draw, which was fortunate for Bobby's opponent. Bobby himself told me that defeat meant Rubber Man was "gettin' cut." Ok...he didn't actually use those exact words...but wouldn't this ending be absolutely brilliant had he?
Bobby, I only provide photographic evidence because I care. And...c'mon — these are TOO good not to show the entire inter-net!
Hmm...where have I seen these two = trouble before?
Holla! Cho and the Bump join in to take no prisoners.
Never content to merely prey on the forty-somethings doing the "sway dance," he goes straight to the source — Tracie, the bride!
My recently healed arm is scared of that lip bite...which is sure to make an encore appearance at Half Pint + Mr. Car's nuptials at the end of this month. DAMN!
* to tag in the next D360 dancer
** a dance-off between two D360 contestants
We all know that complete and utter idiots exist in our world...and are just waiting, every day, to unload the frustrations of their pathetic existence upon us normaltons. Anyone in New England *also* knows that the overwhelming and caffeine-fueled minions of the Dunkin' Donuts empire are just waiting, on every corner, to declare total coffee domination.
This story merges those two strong and annoying truths.
On the way up to Montréal a few weekends ago, we were driving down a commercial road, looking for someplace "fast" to eat. Our version of "fast" has many limitations:
- Wendy's, no, faux finger
- McDonalds, no, new "Fruit & Walnut Salad" commercials annoy me
- Burgers, no after Cho read a string of books coincidentally about the many gross details of the beef industry
- Taco Bell, no, 85% chance of diarrhea
- Any place with servers wear suspenders, no, obvious reasons.
As such, one of the only choices left was a psuedo-mexican chain restaurant called Harry's.
We pulled up to the traffic light before realizing that, to get to Harry's (or whatever,) we would really need to be in the right lane immediately after the light. Being the 4 whitest whities in existence at that moment (two of us had many freckles, one is retina-burning "Irish white" and I drive a Volvo family sedan,) of course we thought it a great idea to roll down the window and ask the guy in the right lane if we could merge over in front of him when the light turned green. We were outside of Manchester, NH, or as I like to refer to it "The Ghetto of the East."
All heads turned to the car next to us. The combination of what it was and who it was shocked and appalled us. The car, an early 90s model of the white-trashy Cutlas Sierra, contained a man in his late twenties who looked much like the director Kevin Smith, but fatter and more disgruntled. He was reclined in his seat, wearing grey sweatpants and a worn black t-shirt. His hair, long and pretty greasy seeming, was long and pulled back in a ponytail. Over the 'do he wore a black ball cap backwards. In his hand was a gigantic Dunkin Donuts berry Coolatta. The straw was in his mouth and he was sucking hard.
Natty rolled down the window and flashed a winning smile.
"Excuse me, do you think we could get over when the light turns? We're going to Harry's."
The man turned his head and stared, sucking the chub juice, straw never leaving his mouth.
He curled his lip and slowly, silenting, nodded his head no.
Natty tried again.
Once again, straw never moving, the man regarded us.
"You should be in this lane if you need to be in this lane."
What a linguistic genius.
Slowly a pink started to creep up. Not in the man's straw, but in Natty's neck, then his cheeks. He leaned a bit out the window and grinned in a scarily wicked way.
"Ok, then...why don't you just keep sucking on that drink and getting fatter?"
Stunned silence from both cars. My mouth popped open in surprise. If we listened, we probably would have been able to hear the guy getting portlier as he continued to suck on the massive Coolatta.
I rolled up Natty's windows from my side console.
The light changed.
We ended up going to Pizaa Hut.
On Sunday, I cleaned my apartment for about 7 hours straight. Carrying on that theme, Monday morning saw me weeding through my entire work email Archive box. While reading emails from the past 2 years (see why I need to take advantage of the "cleaning momentum"?) I found some little gems from The Gang that I had saved for God-knows-what reasons. And then I realized...what would I do without their silly, insane and inane daily electronic drop-ins?
A random sampling:
FROM: Bobby Crocker
"hi machine gun,
How's your day? Last night was fun, although I felt a little iffers this am.
Just a friendly caution: beware of Mr. X [name changed to protect the innocent.] See picture #32 in Snapfish photo album. He's emotionally stunted. He's recently broken up with his girlfriend. He's looking at you like he's going to bite you. I think the attraction is there between you two, (noticed lots of touching last night), but is it really a good idea? I think not.
Guard your carnal treasure.
SUBJECT: Say This Out Loud 5 Times Fast
the bold wolves got ahold of the moldy fools gold."
FROM: P Natty
SUBJECT: Pimpify Yo Self
"This pimp saw right into my soul. Next time we're bumpin' in the hooptie, hollar back: Professor Truth Nash Ice OR Fine Ass Nash Rock"
(Regarding this site)
TO: Cho Cho
SUBJECT: So This One Time I Was Fishing...
(written immdediately after coming back from a long weekend in Lake Pushaw, Maine, during which the guys all left us for almost 3 complete days in a cabin with no electricity or radio to go fishing in a boat that wasn't big enough for us.)
"ps. remember this weekend when we were fishing and i was using that spoonie bait and reeled in that 25-incher? eh? member that?"
FROM: Cho Cho
SUBJECT: So This One Time I Was Fishing...
"ONE time fishing? I remember, like these 50 times we were fishing and totally reeling in AWESOME fish and that one almost pulled me out of the boat and then I had to wrestle it with my bare hands and it took off a finger with its GIANT teeth!
that was cool! hee hee"
(Note: Swiss Miss's emails excluded for spicy content, like in a SITC way...except one about an Avon cellulite cream, which I would just rather not delve into...)
All posts will now be deemed structurally sound by Bobby Crocker, who was promoted last week to Staff Architect at his place of employment. I think they should have just gone with "Head Boy"...but I guess some semblance of professionalism must be observed.
From: The Polish Princess
Date: Thu, 21 Apr 2005 11:05:55 -0400
How could Claire Danes break up with Ben Lee?
If someone wrote me a song as beautiful as that "Birthday Song" I would never let him go!!!
In a town that now has both a baseball and football "legacy," The Gang has its own honorary mantle to pass around: our drinking 'n disaster title of THE VOM.
The origins of the title are fuzzy at best (heh heh,) but I think the Queen of the Vom was Cho, who managed to hurl on the entire passenger side of her car on the ride home from a cocktail party to warm one of my apartments. Apparently, the episode was bookended by Cho declaring her love for Bobby many, many times loudly (before) and then "marking" every room of their apartment with more vom (after.)
Following that magical night, we all started callling her THE VOM. And being such an overachiever, she just HAD to keep getting crazy drunk and, well, vomming after many social gatherings that involved drinking. But one person's liver cannot bear the weight of binge drinking alone. As such, the rest of us had to step up and take our turns strapping on THE VOM Championship Belt.
I've had it a few times, once when I "got a little sick" immediately after a date kissed me for the first time (I don't think it was him, really.) During another incidence, I regained the title by being creative in the dumpster behind our favorite coffee shop. Luckily, it was already the next morning, so I could see and didn't chip any front teeth on the sharp metal edges of the receptacle.
Jeffé is pretty good at avoiding the title, and has only taken the belt once, when he possibly killed some shrubbery on the side of a kosher deli near his apt late one night with "the stuff."
P Natty is the most recent champion...cinching the belt tightly on after Vinterfest, when he singlehandedly started the dance party, and then finished it by ripping of his shirt.
But on Saturday night, at his 29th birthday celebration, Bobby Crocker jumped the ropes, grabbed the leather and metal, and lifted it high by not only ingesting more bourbon than I thought humanly possible, but then soiling a subway car and the six blocks home to his apartment before passing out so soundly in the bathroom that Cho had to leave him there on the floor for most of the night.
I don't know about any other Gang members, but I feel as though I've been hit by a metal folding chair.
How can anyone possible wrench the belt out of his tight, stubborn grip now? What happens next year when he turns 30? Only alcohol poisoning follwed by hospitalization could possibly top what we (and anyone unlucky enough to be traveling on a certain MBTA train car) saw on Saturday night.
So cheers to you, THE (new) VOM
It started one Friday afternoon:
Jeffé sent this link via email.
FRANKIE NACHO: SWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
BOBBY: Surely you jest. The preview looks mediocre, at best.
JEFFé: Everybody panic. [Bobby's real name] is being condescending.
BOBBY: I just think everyone needs to maintain perspective. Contrary to Jeffé and Frank's assumptions, just because Tim Burton is involved with a project doesn't guarantee quality. QED
(BLOGORELLI wonders: what is QED?)
P NATTY: But wait, don't forget Johnny Depp is in it. And he is soooooo dreamy. I'm with Mr. Everything-Sucks-And-I-Will-Tell-You-Why.
BOBBY: Am I Mr. Everything-Sucks-And-I-Will-Tell-You-Why? Are you agreeing with me or not, Patty?
JEFFé: Burton's Previous Films w/ Stop Motion = A. Bobby's Previous Email = D+
BLOGORELLI: Bobby, have you been listening to that freaky NPR for the last 5.5 hours? Don't lie. Step away from the speaker...awaaaay. And, Sirs "That's Crap" 1 & 2: Let's just wait for the evidence. Then we can all debate the movie afterwards and maybe, just maybe, one of you can make me cry.
[BLOGORELLI NOTE: bobby and p natty have both made me cry during debates, once about my deceased cat Sam and another time about the death penalty. There was alcohol involve in both episodes)
Besides, i can only watch the preview with the stupid sound turned off in the office, so i abstain judgement for now)
BOBBY: No. And although I have been listening to NPR for the last 5-1/2 hours, it is in no way freaky. Currently, there is a discussion on Talk of the Nation's Science Friday about whether Science precludes Religion. All the guests are being very childish about it.
JEFFé: Blogorelli abstains, Frankie is being logical, and the Bosom Buddies agree. This is eerie...
FRANKIE NACHO: I just thought it was sort of funny that Bobby didn't realize he was "Mr. Everything-Sucks-And-I-Will-Tell-You-Why".
CHO: maybe you should call in and 'take them all down'. That seems right up your alley! Are you ready to graduate to one of the actual crazies who calls into the radio shows?
BOBBY: I have never called in, and I feel no compunction now to do so. I did desire to call yesterday when, during coverage of the inauguration, someone called in and started talking about how "we've tried to show those selfish liberals what good moral values are, but if they won't work with us, then we won't work with them." Thankfully I had too much work.
(BLOGORELLI thinks: We are definitely all thankful for that)
JEFFé: Bobby calls often and don't let him tell you different. He confided in me some time ago.
BLOGORELLI: Bobby, what are we going to do with you? NEVER EVEN SLIGHTLY ADMIT THAT YOU *EVER EVER EVER* THOUGHT ABOUT CALLING IN TO TALK RADIO! never. nevah. geesh. you are dead to me.
BOBBY: Whatever, Miss My-New-Favorite-Food-is-Cow-Brain-and-Lard-Cakes. You are what you eat. Also, NPR is not talk radio. So get bent, Ohio-lover.
PATTY: Holy shit I am laughing out loud, falling out of my chair!! "Miss My-New-Favorite-Food-is-Cow-Brain-and-Lard-Cakes." ?!?!? "you are what you eat"?!?!? Forget "Machine Gun" now it's just the endearing Lard Cakes!
BLOGORELLI: NOoooooooo! or perhaps i should just go with this and get a pig tattooed on my upper arm? hmm
CHO: it might look as good as P Natty's new tatoo...
(in reference to a henna tattoo P Natty got on vacation in the Dominican Republic, of a panther, on his upper pec...which he had an allergic reaction to and, as a result, turned into a rash shaped like a panther on his upper pec)
BLOGORELLI: Well, as long as no one "gets bent" over it
Although this sounds like something that might break my New Year's Resolution #1 (Be More Respectful to Myself Regarding Men,) Go Vertical Boston is actually a stair climb up the Hancock Tower to support the Damon Runyon Cancer Research Foundation.
On Sunday, February 6th, Swiss Miss will participate in first annual climb, attempting to tackle 62 floors and 790 feet.
Help her (and cancer victims and survivors) by donating. As someone who has been touched by the reality of cancer diagnosis in both a family member (my grandfather and mother) and a friend (Frankie Nacho,) this is a great cause.
She's such an over-achiever.
"Premium quality material and printing process. Heavy gauge .030 mil magnetic vinyl. Flexible material that attaches to all metallic curved surfaces. UV protected, so it will not fade in the sun."
my backside was going to suggest that we all "God Bless America," unfortunately (?) I ran out of ambition, time, and styrofoam board. note: DO NOT try and use those stupid magnetic ribbons as earrings...they are way too heavy for that tom foolery.
more photos in the album
plus MANY congratulations to Bobby Crocker, on his new, long-deserved
and much more illustrious job as a Draftsman at a high-end
residential architecture firm. If anyone has ever heard his "tub full
of vomit" or "litterbox room" stories, you will agree that he has
long suffered for such a wonderful new beginning.
WE'RE PROUD OF YA', BOBBY!
Tomorrow, we gather at the lakehouse to celebrate thirty years of the firecracker we call P Natty's existence. There will be martinis, there will be music, and there will be a 60-lb pig, roasted in a special box that the Natty ordered from Florida.
Because such an enigma as P. cannot be defined in my mere words alone, I humbly present a list, culled from the favorite memories of those who have the priviledge of knowing him well.
30 REASONS WHY P NATTY RULES
30. Knows the yoga pose called “Crotch Candy”
29. Gets creepily yet adorably excited about anything to do with fishing
28. Three words: Harvard Law School
27. Yes, he manscapes, ladies
26. Likes the hot tub AND the cold plunge
25. Up for anything: has traveled to exotic locations such as Nicaragua, China and Thailand
24. Tucks his shirts into his Lucky jeans
23. Sees "13 Going on 30" in the theater - and then preaches its virtues
22. Does a mean par cucha
21. Tells those obnoxiously loud people at the movies to shut up
20. He will MAKE YOU love the green chili
19. Has hiked the Appalachian Trail
18. A voracious supporter of the Dance Party
17. Can debate about any topic until opponent either cries or has blood coming out of his/her ears
16. Loves Loves Loves lotion, lotion, lotion
15. Taught us all that, if arrested, say “I want a lawyer. I’m not answering any questions until I have my lawyer here”...then call him
14. Makes a mean mojito slushy (summer) or a smooth martini (winter)
13. Used to have a long, flowing mane of curly red hair
12. Bad-Ass: Once drank a whole bottle of Bombay Saphire gin over the course of a few hours
11. Knows all the words to entire score of “Once More, with Feeling” (the Buffy muscial episode) and will sing it out loud on request
10. HAVE YOU SEEN HIS ABS?!?!
9. Only minimally mentions the time Blogorelli fell on his face when he was trying to help her down during rock climbing in New Mexico
8. Possibly the only person proud to be driving a teal Geo Metro and going 85mph to prove it
7. Such a hard-core Mainer that, as a child, he once forced himself to sit overnight in the woods just so that he wasn’t afraid of them/the dark anymore.
6. Loves the Indigo Girls
5. Generous and loyal: will loan you money without judgement if, say, you didn’t budget exactly right that month and are a little short on rent
4. Disbelieves in God but believes in psychics
3. Loves shooting guns yet has keen appreciation for classic philosophical literature
2. Got Orbitz customer service representative to hang up on him by screaming “SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH, JERRY!”
1. Style *and* Substance
**Honorable Mention: Lil Kim wanted me to note that, for her,"of course, his cute ass and generally hottiness" are also factors why he totally rules
Happy 30th, Patrick
Like many things in life, you are sure to only get better with age!
"The pretty young woman living alone, must literally follow Cinderella’s habits. The magpie never leaves her window sill and the jackal sits on the doormat, and the news of her every going out and coming in, of every one whom she receives, when they come, how long they stay and at what hour they go, is spread broadcast."
-Emily Post, 'Etiquette in Society, in Business, in Politics and at Home'
THANK YOU to my wonderful friends who made the International Cocktail party such an event...you all have a special place in my jet-setting heart.
Photos/Details TBP (to-be-posted) Monday p.m.
back to the blogorelli collegiate stomping grounds of cincinnati, OH...this very afternoon!
no posty has been the result of 1) extremely hectic work schedule 2) fitness class time/day switches 3) personal prep for today's trip. i will be back in full force come monday!
the catalyst for my first trip back to the farmland since graduation 3 years ago are the nuptials of my design studio-mate and friend Kimmie-O. she's marrying nate...and i approve, because he's kind of like the hard drinking, slightly ruffian older brother that i never had. you know, the kind who will get you a glass of rosé wine because, you know, "it's what you should have", and then promptly defend you in a fist fight should need be.
K-O and i met one fateful day in drawing studio. i was with my (only) design school sidekick at the time, The Junglecat. the studio was too small for our whole class, and 3 people had to move to a different studio...so that's how K-O, The Junglecat and I (The Machine Gun) found ourselves spending 6 hours together every week. we learned things about each other. i couldn't draw anything square OR rectangular in perspective. The Junglecat wore little boy underpants because they were cheaper than men's and his butt was small enough to fit into them. Kim had a fake eye. in fact, she was the only person ever born with whatever caused her to have a fake eye that had any vision at all. so she's not only a slick dresser, but also a miracle of science. A MIRACLE OF SCIENCE!
for 10 weeks, The Junglecat begged K-O to pop out her eye and show us. she refused. we all went home for break and forgot about the whole thing. but many quarters later, after we had become close friends, she DID pop her eye out. FOR ME! while we were watching the Survivor finale at her house. and, oh, it was cool.
while back in the 'nati, i will also be eating Skyline Chili, checking out the new Contemporary Arts building downtown, getting intoxicated and singing karaoke with the old gang, and going to MY FAVORITE thrift store e-v-e-r! i shiver in anticipation.
stay outta trouble. see ya on monday.
As I continue to unpack and search for an extremely padded bra to fill out my bridesmaid's dress for this upcoming weekend's festivities, I offer you the second illustrious guest star on Blogorelli: Bobby Crocker!
"Like most people, with the exception of my wife, I don't like my job. This occurred to me as I was entering another cat-pee scented East Boston apartment preparing to assist the dirty, half-dressed, smoking homeowner in making door color choices.
"Do you like the Colony White or the Golden Pecan?" they ask me.
"Who cares?" I want to say, "You are an animal wallowing in its own filth."
As I struggled to explain that they could choose one finish for the interior of the door and "a whole nother" for the exterior, my mind wandered. Have I ever had what a rational person would consider a "good" job‚? I don't think so, and submit the following resume as evidence:
- The first job I remember clearly was a summer volunteer position at the Manchester Skill Center. I'm not sure what "skills" the burgeoning criminals imprisoned there learned, besides perhaps how to fight with a weedwacker or start fires. They were older than I, and I was scared that at any moment I would be the victim of creative belt sanding. I stayed in the computer lab playing Karateka.
- The Elliot Hospital. I was fourteen. My father paid me to "volunteer;" health care makes me queasy. I worked in the stock room in the basement, loading carts full of medical supplies. The saline solutions were cold and jiggled, and could be stacked precariously high on the cart. When there was no stocking to do, I hung out in the laundry room with the laundry guy and listened to Styx.
- Dishwasher, Blake's Family Restaurant, also in Manchester. Since we made our own whipped cream, all the dishwashers did whip-its from the five foot tall tank of nitrous oxide in the dishroom. Everything went smoothly until one of the dishwashers was found by Butch, the manager, passed out head first in the bin of garbage and half chewed food. Butch moved the tank to the kitchen.
- Short Order Cook, Blake's Family Restaurant. After a year, I followed the nitrous tank to the kitchen. I worked with Dave, a balding black man with cooking burn scars all over his forearms. We didn't really talk, just cooked, and listened to Rock 101 WGIR FM, Manchester‚s rock and roll station. One time I changed the station in the middle of "Against the Wind". "Hey!" shouted Dave, waving his giant knife at me with his left hand and flipping the radio back with his right, "NEVER change the radio when they're playing Bob Seger."
- Laborer, Clough (pronounced cluff‚) State Park, Goffstown. My supervisor's name was Charlie, a 65-year-old high school teacher. We patrolled the park in a public service orange Ford F150 listening to Rock 101. Charlie smoked a pipe and made fun of the park visitors. "You see that guy?" he'd ask, pointing to a man surreptitiously peeing on his barbecue pit to put out the coals, "summa cum laude from the Sorbonne." One day, Charlie came out of the men's room. "You better go get the cleaning stuff," he said. "Why?" I asked. "Why don't you go in and see?" he responded. I went in the bathroom to be greeted by one of the largest, smelliest dumps I have had the misfortune to meet. It was huge. It was foul. It was in the sink. Who poops in the sink?
- Studio Assistant, Santa Fe. George the sculptor was a 6'-5", 300 pound gay man from Mississippi, the part just north of New Orleans. George didn't visit home much. I rolled clay on the slab roller and helped George mold it into his Majolica inspired art pieces. George was on a diet, which meant that he constantly ate Diet Hydrox cookies and drank Diet Dr. Thunder, which is Sam's Club's version of Dr. Pepper. Sometimes George gave me friendly backrubs while I worked. His hands were huge, and felt like coarse sand paper. George liked to play $10 slot machines. Pull, $10 gone, pull, $10 gone.
- Student Leader, Young Life, Santa Fe. We had great contests for the kids, like Milk Night. On Milk Night, anyone who could drink a gallon of Vitamin D whole milk in an hour, without getting sick, won a prize. There are approximately 3000 calories in a gallon of whole milk. The kids all barfed; it was great. Two years before my time, one of the local football players not only finished the milk, he went out for pancakes after. Another time we had a Caramel Apple eating contest. Three kids stood up and had to race to finish a caramel covered apple. Except we gave one of the kids a caramel covered onion. He won the race.
- Assistant English Teacher, Maebashi, Japan. I spent a year asking "What is your favorite color?" and dodging elementary school children trying to grab my genitals. Children, they're just so curious! Once, I got to one of my elementary schools early, and no one was in the teacher's room. I looked out the window, only to see the entire school, teachers and principal included, out on the playground. They were in their blue school sweatsuits, doing their morning calisthenics to "Let's Get Physical" by Olivia Newton John. It was awesome.
- Marketing Specialist, New Deal Software, Somerville. The fact that this company put me in charge of marketing one of their businesses probably should have made me nervous, but it seemed okay at the time. We were going to corner the market in Africa before Microsoft got there, while simultaneously refurbishing old computers and selling them in the States with our operating system bundled on them, old computers we got as part of our technology disposition solutions plan. Three months after they hired me, the company folded under mysterious circumstances. Up until the last minute, the president claimed that the funding check was in the mail. It wasn't.
Now I am a draftsman at an architecture firm in Cambridge.
So I guess I've come a long way. Tomorrow I get to visit the fat, long black haired homeowner who, each of the three times I have met with him, has answered the door soaking wet and naked to the waist.
I can't wait."
this year i've decided to offer up a "trick" that others will actually enjoy: the first-ever guest appearance on Blogorelli! Cho Cho's story has intrigue, vintage machinery, danger, dentistry, and the weirdness of a david lynch movie -- and it's true to boot! it all started when...
"I went to the dentist this morning.
To those of you who don't know me, this may seem like a mundane, twice-yearly affair of relatively little consequence, except a chance to take half a personal day and find out if teeth-whitening is covered by your insurance plan yet. But for me, going to the dentist is right up there with taking the SAT and flying. Except I don't get to down rum and cokes with abandon and have hysterics about "at least dying in a catastrophic headline-type fashion". And I don't end up in California, or London, or even college. This is why I haven't actually been to the dentist in 7 years. That's right, SEVEN. This is usually under the guise of not having health insurance, although there may have been a couple years thrown in there when I was just BUSY. Every day, all year...
I just hate paying someone to fastidiously pick at me. Its why I've never had a facial, or a massage, or even a haircut more than twice a year. And an eyebrow wax; are you out of your mind? That may lead you to believe that I am a ferociously unkempt individual, but you are only partly right. I swear--see I'm going to the dentist! My husband convinced me that dentists have changed with the times; Everything is calming and ergonomic and the chair feels like one of those massagers at Brookstone.
Okay so anyway, I rocked up to my dentist apointment at 9:07. That's right, a full 7 minutes late. It took me a little while to find it because I had a hard time believing that the office was located on the first floor of a Somerville residential tripledecker with more vinyl siding than would be found in my entire hometown of San Francisco and a big, faded print out of an American flag with "these colors don't run" fading away at the bottom. I went in and was greeted by the waiting room, empty, circa completely 1971. I think there may have even been a taxidermied animal of some type next to the black velvet couch and matching set of chairs. Now at this point, I'm thinking 'cool, this is totally old-school Somerville, what it was like be for the annoying hipsters (like me) came and stripped it of its "charactah". After filling out my form and wondering why, exactly, my dentist needs to know if I ever have had an allergic reaction to shellfish, I am ushered down the hallway and into the examination room.
And there is the room. And the chair. MY GOD THE CHAIR, how cool, I thought, for a second. The chair and corresponding light and tool contraption are 50-s jadite green enamel and I would like to photograph them. But wait a minute, this isn't the dentist chair that I saw IN A MUSEUM a few years ago, from the old days when they didn't really use novacaine and everyone had British teeth rather than undergo dental 'care'. This is my dentist chair where I will be examined and its not at all ergonomic or probably even sanitized because it actually is FROM THE 50s. Just like a horror movie.
My own special horror movie.
My doctor came in.
"You are late." he said. That's it. I said:
"I'm sorry, I had a little trouble finding the place"
He said: "I have a schedule to keep and now I'm starting off not on schedule. I am a busy man, you know, young lady. Please make an effort to be on time. Sit down."
He then proceeded to pull various creaky things down from the top of the chair/torture device (see photo) and pick at/clean my virgin teeth. Once, he tried to make conversation about my lack of dentist frequenting, but when I tried to make a joke about being afraid of the dentist he pulled the surgical tools out of my tonsils and looked at me and said in the voice my father used when he found out in 8th grade I had sneaked out of the house and drunk a whole bottle of Kahlua with a now convicted fellon in an abandoned school parking lot, "You are not a child now. You are a grown up woman and you need to get over your childish fears and act like an adult about your dental hygiene." I just nodded, at this point, and began practicing my 'relaxation technique' which usually involved thinking about exactly what kind of reward I am going to give my self for this kind of penance -- How many beers does this translate to? How many if I find out I have to have a cavity filled? Do I get to throw myself a party?
Then, after forever, it was over. I was out of the chair, the drool down my chin was drying to my face and incredulously, He informed me while unscrewing some kind of 'device' for sucking water out of my mouth that resembled an unleaded fuel pump that I actually have NO cavities. AND, get this - HEALTHY GUMS. Take that all of you who say avoidance doesn't work wonders in the field of personal hygiene, I thought to myself. And my husband will definitely pay (probably with flowers and dinner) for that talk of the wonderous field of advanced dentistry. As for the rest of this morning, I'm going to by my next set of airplane tickets to London now, since I think I just managed to fill my quota on "catastrophic headline-type" horror movie experiences without even leaving my neighborhood.
Have I mentioned I don't floss?"
i have survived my first snowboarding experience!
yesterday i hit the slopes at Stowe, Vermont, with my compatriots in riding Cho, Bobby, P-Natty and 'Lil Kim...and it was *FUN!* we left at 6am and i was strapped to the board by 10.
Issue #1: i have never ridden a ski lift
this fact made me nearly hysterical from the get-go. after a brief lesson on how to just simply drag the board behind me with one foot clipped in, i was informed that to continue my learning i would have to take the lift up the mountain. at this point the kiddie learning area was looking pretty sweet, but apparently my teachers had higher expectations. the entire 10 minute ride consisted of Cho reassuring me that the worst thing possible would be falling off at the unloading area. even this was ok, so long as i managed to drag myself to the side so that the people behind us didn't ski over me. i saw the top. i almost cried. i slid off...and promptly fell. thankfully, Bobby pulled me out of the way, and i was -really- reading to start learning!
Issue #2: i confuse the terms "forward" and "backward"
the good thing about having both of your feet strapped to one large tongue depresser is that when you fall, it's much less messy than skis&poles. the bad thing is that you have to know about "the edge." not merely an emotional measuring point, this term refers to how you balance and steer. Bobby kept telling me to lean forward. he actually meant sideways, but was refering to the board's forward, not mine. duh. i leaned to the right. i fell. i leaned back, i fell. i leaned to the left, i fell. any way that i leaned, i fell. after about 30 minutes, i got the hang of it and managed to move 10 full feet.
Issue #3: extreme sports cannot conceal my obsessive personality
ok, so i'm a bit persnickety. every time that i fell, i had to take off my gloves, pull down my hat, adjust my googles (note: i hate wearing goggles), and fish a tissue out to blow my nose. my teachers were getting annoyed i suspect. afterwards, everyone admitted that my little OCD routine was quite funny. oh, ha ha.
note to self: Cho is a veeeery patient teacher, thank god.
Issue #4: i slide into the trees
finally arriving at the bottom, i face another obstacle: the flat area that leads back to the lift. skiers really have the advantage here because they can push themselves with their poles. i try hopping toward the others, waiting near the lift. no dice. finally i decide to sit down at the edge, unclip, and use the "dragging" move that i learned earlier. however, i don't realize that the edge is slightly sloped, leading to a steeper slope, which leads into the woods. i start sliding down into the woods. AHHH! luckily (ha!) a tree stops me. i wait patiently, stuck with the board vertically wedged in a fork of the tree, until Bobby comes to pull me out.
note to self: Bobby is a human forklift.
Issue #5: i am a speed demon
some teachers will say that if you aren't sore at the end of the first day, it means that you weren't pushing yourself hard enough (thus not falling much.) this was not my problem. my hurdle was controlling the speed once i started plowing down the slope. what can i say? i just got addicted to aiming the board straight down the hill and going as fast as possible. it's the most bad-assed i've felt in years. but i didn't have a plan for slowing down or stopping. i got the hang of it eventually, but not until after a particularly harsh "face plant", during which i actually flew forward with such force that i was airborne. hee hee
all in all, the day was a success. i got the hang of it, and was even going down intermediate trails and making graceful serpentine turns by the end of the day. i also had a horrible migraine from smashing my head against the ground so many times and i felt fairly nauseous...but that's nothing that a nice apres ski beer and some mexican food couldn't fix. today, i my knees are bruised almost black, but so is my ass, so at least i'm coordinated!
i mentioned in a previous post that my friend frankie is undergoing chemo.
not a cheerful topic of conversation obviously.
a much more humorous aspect is the fact that whilst having treatments, he is wearing an eye patch.
so, in his honor, I proudly present
"Top 5 Reasons to Wear an Eye Patch"
(referring, L-R, to photos below)
*1* AARGH! nearly in time for "Talk Like a Pirate" day...another freakin' theme bear.
*2* c'mon, the duke even wore one...THE D U K E!
*3* get one embroidered to support your fave band.
now all your friends will know that you're a total tool...who likes tool
*4* endorsed by lemurs everywhere
*5* remember Patch on Days of Our Lives?
doesn't everyone who stayed home sick from school in the early 1990s?
you can work that same "dangerous, unattainable, cool guy" vibe just by adding a simple eye patch!