Buggin'

I just got back from a wonderful evening with Adam & Jessie. We went to PacRim for sushi. Along the way, the two informed me on why they don't eat an Lili's Noodle House anymore because they saw cockroaches on the tables. I ate there once about 2 1/2 years ago and it made my stomach hurt. It's gross all together.

We sit down and halfway through dinner Adam starts going nuts thinking that there are bugs crawling up his legs. I dismissed this as paranoia until he sat next to me and started to freak out again. The waitress came over and asked if he was OK. He told here he thought it was a fly. After she left, he pointed over my head to two flies on the wall. I killed both of them to defend his honor and he was relieved.

As Adam was buying a whole chicken at the Gristede's downstairs in his building, Jessie and I were upstairs catching up on girl talk. All of a sudden BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ in my fucking ear. I jumped and started swatting and ewwing. Then Jessie started screaming. I'm thinking I have a roach in my hair and she's flipping out cause the mystery fly buzzed her ear too. It happened 5 minutes later too. Karma got back at us for laughing at poor Adam.

Non-Stop

I wonder how many people read this on the reg. To those who do and look forward to my musings to distract them from their lame workdays, I'll make my most valiant effort. Between work, meetings and parties, I'm jammed til I get home. Then I'm leaving less than 24 hours later to go to Maine with Mike, Josh and their friend Benny for their friends' wedding. Hopefully I'll have a camera and can post pictures of moose rather than ranting about violence or rappers.

Man, I can't wait to take a nap.

Pistol Cherry Pop

No this is not some obscure hipster band but it would be a great name. I got my pistol cherry popped today. I was driving down Centre St in JP on my way home from pilates. I was right over by the Stop N Shop, sitting in traffic. School must've just gotten out because I kept thinking about how much high school kids scare the pants off me. For serious.

There were these dudes, one was kinda "pretty", fooling around in front of some bodega across from the SNS. Right before I pulled away, one kid puts the pretty one in a headlock and stickes a pistol against his neck. It took a second to register what the fuck that was and I knew they were just playing but really, you don't fuck around like that. I've never seen something so ignorant and careless.

I don't get it. I mean, if you could actually hold your own in a fight you wouldn't need a stupid gun. A real man would be able to squash conflict without even resorting to violence (like the time at the Ghostface show in Providence when some fat white guy told Mike to move, got his XXXXL panties in a bunch when Mike refused and Braun handled the situation calmly with words, somehow resulting in me crying because I was afraid the fat fuck would rape me).

I've seen plenty of fist fights and knife fights in NY. I try to take pictures of them when I see one because I think it's funny. There was even a gang war outside my door in Chinatown and some restaurant's windows got shot in over competing bus lines (Fung Wah baby!). You don't fuck with triads. But stupid kids whipping out pistols when joking around with their friends has just brought my tolerance (or lack of) to a whole other level for me.

Sorry for the PSA. I still think JP is a lovely neighborhood beyond that weird rotary on Centre St. Hey Patty, do you live on Gayhead St?

Sometimes I just can't help myself.

Long Drive Ahead

I'm in the process of finding a real job because I'm not getting enough work freelancing. This all started with a scheduling conflict between a great job up here and a business opportunity in NYC. Of course NYC is the choice.

Anyway, I got a wonderful phone call today and will be working for two days in NYC before this meeting I have to hit up at Columbia. I love New York because you can charge more than $200 to steam things and stand there all day. A serious dream come true in a moment of neediness. At least I won't feel like I'm slacking or spending more money by being down there.

Err, that means I have to leave in an hour for the lovely 3 1/2 hour drive (plus parking, pray to the parking gods for me please). Someone really needs to get started on teleportation. Whoever perfects that shit is going to be RICH$$$!

HUGE props to miss Sarah Shirley for providing me her residence while she's off surfing in Costa Rica. I'll be her Official Ass Finder or OAF while she's away. In this case, it's B school ass that I'll be finding to do our bidding.

Looking forward to bombarding Adam & Jessie tomorrow after work (consider yourselves warned) and reconnecting with everyone else Wednesday night.

Call me bitches!

NYC Travel Alert

Dear Friends of Mine Living in NYC,

I will be in town either this Tuesday or Wednesday. I have some business to attend to on Wednesday night and need to leave some time on Thursday so I can make it to pilates. Please call me or email me and find me. I'll be staying at Sarah's downtown. This means that I'll be a stone's throw away from two of my most favorite people that I haven't seen all summer.

I hope to see as many of you as possible.

With Love.

Meet the Manimals

::My further scientific study of blogging has produced a photo that didn't take 20 minutes to upload. Now that I see how painless it is, expect more fun things to look at, especially these little devils::

I've been pretty lonely in Boston and these two boys have helped me get through it. The dog you may know as Hugo. He's the love of my life and my little ray of sunshine. He is bionic. The cat is a relatively new addition to our family, his name is Grissom. Yes, like the guy from CSI. Mike got him in Texas to keep the dog company and we didn't talk for over a month because of this (I am very allergic to him but receive monthly chemical injections that build my immunity).

Enjoy these creatures because they'll be frequent quests of this blog because I'm fucking lame.

Happy Birthday Braun Duggan

Not only am I the whitest girl in most situations but I'm the only girl. OK, there were other girls, but I'm the only one who can hang.

Fun times last night at the lamest cool bar in college town. We worked the bottle service system real hard even though our poor lovely waitress Emily from MassArt wouldn't sneak a glass of Vueve we bought specifically for her that I ended up drinking. Once again I tried to have a danceoff with Shaka and was denied (he's scared) and I blew everyone's minds with my example of how people dance like chickens in NJ to eurotrash house music. I think I may have embarassed Mike.

So celebrate on this day and listen to something produced by the Beyonder, because today he is a day older and an XBox 360 richer.

"Old men smell like piss" - Method Man

As Mike and I were sitting in traffic on our way to his aunt and uncle's ridiculous new house, we were flipping through XM to ease our traffic headache. We flipped to Method Man being interviewed on one of the hip hop stations and of course we stopped to represent the Wu. Poor Meth, he used to be my favorite (Ghostface is #1 these days). Really, what level do you take it to after you make deodorant commercials?

In between playing new shit off his album (which I'm told is weak) I have ZERO clue what got him talking about some of the stuff he was talking about. Here's my rendition of the conversation I heard:

Hostess: So Meth, who do you get down to these days?
MM: You know, I got sumthin' to say. Old men be smellin' like piss. They smell like they just to lazy to get up and take care of bidniz. And old ladies, old ladies smell like cats. Or whatever they be cookin'. Old white people smell like that too, but wid mothballs.
Hostess: (speechless) So how 'bout 50? Do you get down with 50?

And they call GZA the genius? This was truly a classic moment in Wu Tang history, up there with the time ODB took a limo to pick up his welfare check and listed how many times he's been burnt by gonnerhea. Much love to Meth though, I hear his wife is really sick.

Wu Tang is for the children.

Happy New Year to Jew

Happy New Year 5767. At sundown tonight I will be celebrating my first official Rosh Hoshanah. Maybe not official since I've yet to convert but I've been playing the High Holiday card for years now. This time I'll get to spend the next two evenings with Mike and his family (who I love) and extended friends and associates. If I still lived in NYC I'd celebrate by not moving my car for alternate side of the street parking (one of my most favorite hobbies).

Hopefully I won't be the only shikza princess. At Passover, Mike's 3rd cousin Mike brought his equally non-Jewish girlfriend. While I got made fun of for slurring during my reading of the Passover handbook, she spilled red wine down the front of her.

Can You Kazoo?

Thanks to everyone who came by for the bbq last night (and to those who called to send birthday love). A big shout to Colin for the real kazoo that he brought me.

I quickly called Sarah with Patty and Tine and played her my new instrument. I think she's so impressed she's going to call Pharell and see if he wants me to guest on the next track he lays down. Wow, I really hope it's for Luda. Or Rick Ross. Hook it up Sarah. And sorry for all the phone calls.

I still think Pharell would feel like velvet.

Also, someone broke our dishwasher. I don't believe it was me.

Aw Schucks

I got schooled by an 11 year old Latin girl today. While buying produce for this evening's bday BBQ, I grabbed some sweet corn at the Super Stop & Shop in Dorchester. This place makes me hyper-aware of my honkiness. I was about to walk away when this smart little girl comes up and starts to schuck the corn for her mom. Why didn't I think of that?

She kept watching me until I decide coolly to go grab another bag for whatever reason. I proceed to schuck with the girl and her mother. They were laughing at me in Spanish and I knew it. I'm OK with it. I never bought corn before. At least on my own. Besides, who buys groceries in New York. Boston is a whole new beast.

Roid Rage

For years now I've referred to my father as Sonny Bono with twins when describing him. Now I think Danny Bonaduce can describe his demeanor. Good ol' Rusty Pete has been diagnosed with severe rhuematoid arthritis. His doctors put him on a low-dose chemotherapy drug for the rest of his life to control the RA but it doesn't immediately ease the aches, pains and swelling that cripples him every now and again.

Now they have him on steroids. It's been about a week I guess and the side effects are coming out. Besides feeling "speedy", my already short tempered father is losing his shit without realizing it. I love my dad (even moreso since he put down the can of Coors Light) but god bless my mother and anyone who wrongfully crosses his path. I have yet to be victim to the dark side and will continue to make fun of my father's roid rage for another month until he's off the juice.

Like Jelly

::I'm attempting my own personal version of science here and trying to post direct links. Cross your fingers::

I was at the gym at 7:45 this morning. I don't think I've ever been to the gym so early. What got me through was the promise of a relaxing 80-minute massage at G2O Spa thanks to my wonderful parents. Amazing. It didn't rid me of all my pilates kinks but wow. I feel mushy and good. I just hope that I don't get sick because the massuese kept sniffling and sneezing.

The Whitest Girl You Know

Remember in the late 80s/early 90s when bands used their name as song titles? Classics like "Wang Chung Tonight" by Wang Chung or "The New Kids on the Block" by NKOTB? You just don't get that anymore. I think Wu Tang might even have a title track on 36 Chambers.

Anyway, I don't want any random folks to get mislead by this name so I'm going to break it down as simply as I can. Besides the fact that I'm in desperate need of a tan all year long thanks to my predominately Irish and German heritage, since leaving my extremely whitebread childhood in NJ, I've ended up being the whitest girl in the room. OK, well, after Caroline but she's a viking and you don't fuck with vikings (more on that another time).

I lived in Manhattan for six years prior to moving to Boston in January. Naturally, I picked up a diverse group of friends over the years. It dawned upon me sometime in 2002 when I was living deep in the heart of Chinatown that I really was the whitest girl wherever I went. So this blog is NOT to be taken as racial, although race and ethnicity will come up because I'm fascinated with it. This will also not be a fashion blog, a gossip blog, a political blog (the least likely of topics), or even a professionally written blog. I don't know what it'll end up being or what I'll bring up. All of it, some of it, none of it. I don't even know how to post links or pictures yet.

Bear with me. I can be funny.

Happy Birthday me

Since it is officially my birthday, I've given myself a blog. I also gave myself a pair of brown suede Prada slingback platforms. Needless to say, the blog was cheaper.

For a while now, I've been asked by many people why I haven't started a blog and I usually make up a lame excuse such as "I don't have time" or "Everyone else is doing it". I'm currently on a whole kick about doing rather than thinking about doing in an effort to cut procrastination out of my life. Procrastination has resulted in nothing but missed opportunities and a jiggly ass. I've been proactive about going to the gym and doing the dishes and laundry, so why not give blogging a shot. Besides, when it starts to get cold and my motivation wears thin, this will be a perfect excuse for not doing anything I need to.