So Here's The Thing...

On Monday, a day that generally celebrates people who inspire was ruined by someone who thought it would be a good idea to set off two bombs at the finish line of the Boston Marathon.  Truly, if you’ve never gone to watch the race, you’re missing out.  It is amazing.  Seeing thousands of people running – some to accomplish a goal, many to raise money and awareness for diseases, gives you a feeling of community, of flat-out awe, and a pride in your town that cannot be described in words, but is easy to see on the faces of the participants, the crowd, everyone coming to encourage one another.  It’s not a gift-giving holiday, it’s not commercial, it’s just awesome.  And now it’s been compromised.  But I promise, it won’t be ruined.  And here is why: People from Boston are crazy.

Crazy, you say?  How can you say that?  That sounds disrespectful and rude, but that’s not how I mean it, and if you’re from here or if you’ve been here you know exactly what I’m talking about.  Here’s the thing: there is nothing Boston does better than a comeback.  There has been some really nutty stuff that has happened here over the past, well four hundred years, and no matter what, we’ve turned it around and we’ve kicked ass.  We turned the Salem Witch Trials into an adorable little tourist trap, because, well, bygones, right?  Redcoats?  Please.  A colonial version of the Pink Hats you see at Fenway (and even they are fierce in their commitment to the Red Sox, even though they have no idea what a pop fly is.  And no, I don’t either, but are you honestly going to mess with me right now?  I’m six months pregnant, sick as a dog and I’d soon as sock you in the jaw as listen to your crap.).  We were the first to okay gay marriage because we all understand that everyone, no matter what your gender, has the right to be unhappy.  Because we are.  We’re a bunch of miserable f*cks who wouldn’t have it any other way.  Trust me. 

Boston is full of adults who still live at home, smoke cigarettes, and hate their jobs.  It’s freezing even though it’s SUPPOSED to be nice in March.  Traffic sucks.  We’re looking for someone to take it out on.  So whoever they are, wherever they are, if I didn’t hate them so much I’d feel sorry for them.  Because not only do we love a comeback, we hold a grudge.  If we fly into a rage remembering the fistfight we got into with that elderly bitch who took our parking space seventeen years ago, they don’t stand a chance.

By now, we’ve seen the footage and we’ve heard about the amazing things that people from all over the world have done to show their support and to honor those killed and wounded, and it’s astounding.  The grace by which the populace at large has made us all realize that whatever low-rent animal(s) did this are in the tiniest minority and that goodness is the rule, not the exception.  But it doesn’t change the fact that we’re mad as hell and we’re going to protect and fight for our family – and by that I mean our Boston family – and nobody is going to be able to change that.  Ever.

Why I Haven't Left the House in Months. Or: why I had to delete Loving Leah on the Hallmark Channel from my DVR.

Absence, schmabsence.  Let me tell you, I have been HERE.

Well, not here writing because I leave every thought I have in whatever receptacle is handy at the moment, and it isn't pretty.

Preg again.  This time, with a boy. Now, with my girl I was the sickest on the planet.  Everyday, all day, for 34 straight weeks.  Now, 21 weeks in, I have been sick for 15 straight weeks and it is WORSE.  How?  Well, in addition to the constant nausea and vomiting, I have every single other symptom that has ever been recorded by a pregnant person.  I've done the Kate Middleton dehydration thing a few times, but it doesn't work OR give me nice hair.  Sidenote: she is TOTALLY having a girl.  You can tell from her face.  Kim Kardashian is having a boy, which you can tell because her face isn't getting bigger.  Anyway, I spend my life either in my bed or at my office.  It is the pits. 

So why would I think of logging on again?  Because I see no one, I talk to no one, I do nothing except feel guiilty about not being there for Bink, because I'm not, and watch the Hallmark Channel and it's getting sad-ish.  ISH!  Listen, the Hallmark Channel is good because it shows movies that COULD REALLY HAPPEN.  I mean, of course The Babysitter's Seduction on Lifetime is extremely plausible, because why wouldn't Felicity have an affair with the dad from Seventh Heaven?  Hubba, hubba.  I digress.  Hallmark Channel movies are extra, extra sappy and that's just where I am right now.  Case in point: Loving Leah.  WHO has seen this?  Probably nobody except my mom, who I forced to tape it, because for about three solid weeks, I watched it daily and sobbed.  Finally I had to delete it because it was interfering with my emotional health, but if you get the chance, watch it.  There are so many sage pieces of wisdom.  For example, when Leah's mother tells her "a mother is only as happy as her saddest child" I had to pause it and cry for 2 hours.  Because it's TRUE.  Also, Leah is played by that redheaded girl in "Can't Hardly Wait" and remember when that came out?  It was SO long ago! 

So let's see if we can get back into this.  Also, where can I buy many, many teeny sailor suits?

Obviously I am a copier...

Now that TB is back, I felt inspired to get back, too.  Isn't it funny how you can kind of forget about something for, like, ever, and then no big deal, just go back and nothing has changed?

Nothing has really changed.  Oh, except I'm watching Felicity now on Netflix, and it is both better and worse than what I remembered.  Like, sometimes I think she is so annoying, and everyone is stupid, and I know I didn't think that when watching it in the 90s, but like, seriously, Julie?  She is the WORST.  And Ben is SO hot.  I remember always being a Noel fan, but that was stupid. Ben is where it's at.  I'm in their junior year, and don't remember how it ends at all, but I assume it will be unsatisfying.  Nothing tops the finale of Dawson's Creek, everything else PALES in comparison.

Also, did they ever say what was in Meghan's box?  I don't think they did.

ALSO, there is a LOT of Felicity fanfiction out there.  Terrifying.  But completely hilarious.

Maybe my New Year's Resolution could be to get a life?  Hmm...

Halloween Hipsters

There are people in my office today wearing costumes pretending they hate to be wearing a costume.  Do you know what I mean?  Like, either wear a costume and own it, or don't wear one.  Obvi.

So tonight is my first night in a real house with real trick-or-treaters.  Do you think they will be mad that I am giving out Mary Jane's and Bullseyes?

KIDDING.  Those are the worst candies ever after Circus Peanuts.  Yuck.  I am giving out awesome candy, of course, with a non-chocolate option for the allergic kids.  It will be a little hectic, as Bink and I are flying solo (working Husband) so I am going to take her around and then hand out candy.  Ambitious, I know, but I was treasurer of the German Club in high school, so we should be good.

Also, during the Sandy storm, I watched the episode where Joey gives it up to Pacey three times in a row.  That is all.

I KNEW there was something else!

Two things.  Okay.  So this has been kind of a weird week.  Yesterday, to make myself feel better, I got a bagel at my favorite bagel place by my office.  Now, the bagel kid and I are good friends.  In "that" way.  Not really, I mean, we've never made out or anything, but he does give me extra pickles when I order sandwiches from there (they do breakfast AND lunch, heaven), so that is basically the same thing, or a further base.  So I order my bagel, and while he is toasting it, he flips on his beatbox, and BLASTS the song "Ass & Titties", from like 20 years ago.  This is a song that everyone knows and is obsessed with, but like, you don't ever hear it on the radio.  It's just something that gets passed along, like when Andrea and Steve went to exchange the egg on that 90210 episode where Emily Valentine drugs Brandon so they could do it?  Or he would dance?  I forget.  And don't care.

Anyway, he turns it up all the way, and I am dying laughing because it is so ridiculous, and the owner comes running out from the back and is like "TURN THAT DOWN!" because it is FILTHY, and the kid, not joking, says "I can't help that I'm a gangsta."  Like, there was no way he could have prevented the incident.  And he toasted my bagel extra dark, which is just how I like my bagels and men.  Um, what?  Anyway, it was the best thing ever and I wasn't sad anymore.

For your viewing pleasure.  I didn't watch this, so I really hope it isn't super dirty:

My Rhino-Trophy-Head brings all the boys to the yard...

I was going to take the plunge and buy it today - but it is sold out!!  I'm so sad.  I totally know one of you bought it - show yourself!  Or don't.  However, One King's Lane has "The Winter Lodge" sale today, which is of course rife with trophy heads.  Ideally, I'd like a real one (and nobody give me any of that "hunting is murder" crap, I'm guessing you've never done it, and if you truly did, you would know that it isn't like that), but I feel like a fakey will do fine in the interim.

Anyway, onto other important things.  Like how I made a total garbage salad today (everything fresh in the fridge went in here) and it's not pretty.  Actually, it stinks (not literally, it just doesn't taste good) and I almost want to call Husband to warn him to go get a good salad - or whatever he wants, because this one will ruin his day.  It has already ruined mine... dah duuuuuuh....

So, now that I've forgiven you for totally copying me and stealing my rhinocerous head (I would have named him Timothy, HOW could you have done that to Timothy??  Kidding.  I wouldn't have named him.  I would have let Bink do it, because she insists everything has a name, and it can't be a cop-out name, like "apple-y", it has to be a legit name and you have to remember what it is or else she will destroy you.), let's discuss important things.  Um... like...

I'll have to get back to you. :)

Decorating and Netflix

So now I am suburb-y, which means I am even lazier than I used to be, because I now only leave my town for work (dumb) - everything else is basically here.  I love suburbs!  I also love not living next door to a drug den, but that's another story.  Anyway, all I do is chase Bink around until she makes me go play in a different room (this happens at least once a day), decorate, and watch old Dawson's Creek episodes on Netflix.  If I had a cool phone or took nice pictures I would totally show you what we've got so far, but neither are happening so I will tell you that I just got this and it is extra cute:

I got it at a store in Portland, ME, but you can get it online, like, anywhere.

We have a playroom that we keep Bink's stuff and our decrepit couches in, which is fine because I don't care if they get destroyed, but I am trying to class it up a teeny bit.  But really, anywhere I am is the epitome of class.  Or something. 

Also, in our foyer, I forced my dad (what, he is good at it and I am NOT) to paint a card table that we had candy-apple red and I put down a black and white chevron rug with a sunburst mirror and it is bank.  Again, I have no pictures but this is the rug:

Cute and hides stains with its' busyness.  Busy-ness?

So decorating is super fun and my next purchase is going to be some sort of antler.  I married into a hunting family, so really, I'd like Husband to bag a deer (I think that is how fancy hunters say it, but probably not) and we could have a REAL head, but in the interim I'm looking for the fakies for our man-town living room.  



I like that this is a rhinoceros. That is all.

When I'm not doing this, I am watching season 3 of Dawson's Creek and holding out for when Pacey and Joey bone.  It is so, so good.  Like, as awesome as I remember it being in 1999.  And obviously I think I am Joey Potter.  Obviously.  Oh, Pacey... sigh...