Saturday, September 29, 2007


So, my mom is getting married today. Last night was spent doing the old "dry run" also known as the "wedding rehearsal." The evening was pretty much consumed with wedding talk. etc. Of course I knew that the Red Sox had an opportunity to clinch last night, so I did my part by preoccupying myself with other things. It worked. I recieved a call from Jere just before the O's won their game. We tuned in. We cried. We swooned. It was a glorious night. Congratulations, Red Sox!

Jere's mom suspects that my mother and her fiance had something to do with this. Perhaps they greased a few palms to ensure that no one at the wedding would be wondering about the outcome of today's games. You might be on to something, Mary-Ann.

As of 5 PM, I will be forfeiting my only child status, a badge proudly worn for nearly 36 years. I will suddenly have a step-brother and 3 step-sisters. And a really sweet step-dad. By the way, what does the "step" refer to?



Friday, September 28, 2007

Even with yesterday's loss ...

... the Red Sox still only need two wins to clinch. Still, what a crappy way to end the game. Youk strikes out with bases loaded.

Switching gears.

I saw the lion's share of the Democratic debates the other night. And I find myself really leaning toward Hillary. Of all the folks running, she seems the most prepared. We might actually see universal healthcare in my lifetime. I grant you, her first attempt failed, but she's got the whole "lessons learned" thing under her belt. On the other hand, I've heard that her 2nd proposal isn't much different from her first. In fact, the Green Party calls Sen. Clinton's health care mandate proposal a 'fraudulent, cynical, cruel' affront to Americans who need coverage (headline taken directly from article). I haven't read it, so I haven't got an opinion.

Obama, though very confident, and also strong in bringing people together (the need for bipartisanship is at an all-time high) just isn't as experienced as Clinton and it shows. I hope he runs again after he's had some time in the Senate.

Chris Dodd is a candidate worthy of watching, too. Both he and Biden had some interesting responses. Edwards looked shaky and frightened. He seems like a really genuine guy, but he doesn't have enough gas in the tank, you know? Richardson used too much rhetoric-y talkie for my taste. Gravel is a total pistol. There's always that one candidate who isn't afraid to be blunt. But you just know that he's off his rocker a little. And Kucinich seemed like one of these "I'll say whatever you want me to say" type guys. Like he doesn't want people to dislike him or something.

Part of me wishes a real "take no prisoners" style left winger got in, but I think, ultimately, that we've had enough with the browbeating. We need people working together to extricate ourselves from Iraq in the smartest possible way. I don't think I will ever get over my anger toward George Bush for putting us in this position and taking hundreds of human lives needlessly.

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Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Three Is the Magic Number

Oh yes it is. It's the magic number.

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

The Price is Fright

I am a life-long fan of Vincent Price. I remember watching his movies on Saturday and Sunday afternoons when I was a kid. I saw House of Wax several times and, similar to my responses to Gene Simmons, I was both fascinated and terrified by him. While in New York City this past weekend, I bought three of Price's movies - including House of Wax (other two: The House of Usher and The Pit and the Pendulum). I watched it again for the first time since grade school and it was just as good as I remember. In fact, it's even better now because I am a lot more in tune with the camp factor. My uncle once told me that he met Vincent Price on the (then) SMU campus in North Dartmouth. He couldn't believe how tall he was. I was always very jealous of that.

When I was young, my big aspiration was to become a horror movie make up artist. I even remember borrowing books from the library on the subject. When I was in high school, I made a life-sized Freddy Krueger from the ground up and I created a lot of props for a Halloween party I had recently, but, sadly, these are the only times in which I dabbled in it. Not a lot of opportunities these days, you know? I hesitate to make stuff without a purpose for fear that, if I am ever wrongfully accused of murder, all of my macabre handiwork could be used as evidence against me. That and all the horror movie soundtracks I've downloaded from iTunes. I've also got Skinny Puppy, Dead Can Dance and some other scary sounding shit. Making latex body parts and vampire heads could really tip the waiter. Being in the wrong place at the wrong time, particularly if the result is being accused of a crime I didn't commit, is one of my greatest fears. I also fear walking over some bridges. And being pushed into subway tracks.

Glad the Yankees lost yesterday. Thank you, Blue Jays. Wait, it's just "Jays" now, right?

Burma has been on my mind quite some these days. First of all, we were supposed to go see Mission of Burma at the new ICA (built in the general area of the old Channel) on Sunday evening. I don't think that Jere really cared, but it would have been a treat for me. I've never seen them live. We missed the show because, at the last minute, I really needed to eat a clam roll at this place near his parents' place in East Haven, CT. The plan was to shoot over to the ICA after getting back to Mass. Who knew it would take so long to fry up a few clams? It was a damn good clam roll, so I am not complaining.

Anyway, and more importantly, there is a lot of stuff going on in Burma (now known as Myanmar). As f'd up as things can get living in the United States, imagine living in a place where dissent is strictly prohibited. Not even peaceful marching is allowed. Or fraternizing with protesters, Horrible.

Thursday, September 20, 2007

We went to see Weird Al tonight in New Bedford. Great show, but it was a little odd to see him perform in the same theater I watched a bunch of local hair bands play in back in 1988. It was a benefit to "Save the Zeiterion," as the venue was in pretty rough shape back then. It seems that the landmark found a way to renovate itself in the last 20 years because it looked pretty good last night. Not mind blowing or anything, but nice. Weird Al and his band were really entertaining. It was a whole multimedia deal with a million costume changes and awesome lighting.

The Red Sox are currently 1.5 games up. I can't even talk about it.

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Tuesday, September 18, 2007

This one is on you, Frenchie

Dear Red Sox,

I hope you're proud of yourselves. What the hell was that? I'll tell you what it was. A little example of how this season is going to play out.

1. Hang on to the lead in the division almost until the end.
2. Then, lose it to the Yankees.
3. Just sit back like speechless, clumsy idiots while they take the division title and you literally scrap and scrap at the last minute, just barely squeezing into the playoffs. Way. To. Go.

Thank goodness I made brownies tonight. Literally, my only saving grace.

Sincerely (pissed),

P.S. Yanks won 12 to something minuscule. Sweet.

Monday, September 17, 2007

Send In the Clowns

I wrote this exactly two years ago. I submitted it to NPR, thinking maybe they would consider it for a short listener commentary. I guess it isn't that good because it was never selected. My cousin and I recently had an exchange on the topic, and this caused me to briefly reconnect with the piece.

When my husband and I first separated, my stomach sank every time a sappy love song came on the radio. Songs that I used to think were really lame were suddenly pulling at my heartstrings every time I got in the car. What was once a song in the background at the pharmacy was now reducing me to hot, steamy tears. I thought it was a cruel joke that the universe was playing on me. It seemed that all these songs were being played on purpose to trigger guilty feelings within me. To punish me for letting go of my marriage. To remind me that I was a bad, selfish, horrible person who had no business enjoying a car ride free of sadness. I started listening to a lot more classical music. It helped. At least until I gained some perspective.

I had a revelation one day. I was walking down the street when suddenly a sappy love song started pouring out of some car and I thought: Wow, I feel truly bad for that songwriter. For a person to be that dependent, that desperate, that unable or unwilling to help him or herself up and begin a search for happiness - is pathetic. The people who write and perform these songs must live in a perpetual state of emotional paralysis. Who wants to feel this bad all the time? These songs suggest that the person is inconsolable for all eternity and this gets projected onto the listener, resulting in feelings of hopelessness and despair. Elliot Smith, though an excellent songwriter, presented perfect examples of this with his, "Everything Reminds Me of Her" and "Everything Means Nothing." When you part ways with someone who was a significant part of your life, the healing process must begin. And while mourning is a huge part of it, it isn’t healthy to repeatedly open your raw soul up to this difficult and sad music since it suggests that things are bad, the good times are gone and your life is ruined.

Carol King wrote a lovely song about love and loss. A mature piece called, "It's Too Late." In it, she claims that she's grateful for the love that she once shared with this person, but, hey, it's time to move on. I think it's a terrific alternative to all these forlorn tunes. You need to be uplifted. The burden on your soul needs to be lightened. You need to know that there is hope.

Maybe the reason there are so few songs like King's is that they are not easy songs to write. It takes a really secure and grounded individual to acknowledge the misery while opening one’s eyes to possibilities of the future.

Sunday, September 16, 2007

Kick Ass Is Finally Here!

Kick*ss Cupcakes opened in Somerville!

I think we are going to stop in for a treat before the weekend is over.

Check out some of their upcoming events:

Cupcake Happy Hours
Cupcake Pajama Brunches
Cupcake Tastings

They make pupcakes and kittycakes - cupcakes for your pets. So, yeah, I know this is a little cutsie, but I am always looking for ways to bribe my cats.

Game 2 | 9.15

Now, that's more like it.

Jere and I sat in his usual section 43 bleacher seats and I forgot my stupid binoculars. There were a group of guys from New York in back of us - really obnoxious, older type Yankee fans. They started cheering for the Yanks normal-style, initially. Then, as the Sox started heating up, their shouts became nasty. Stuff I won't repeat. You know, if I went to Yankee Stadium and started making similar remarks against the Yanks, my arms would be sliced off. And the security guards would just nod and wink at the people holding the chainsaw. They got all upset when the "Yankees Suck" chant began after Wang hit Youk. Even I joined in on that one. They thought we were a bunch of "big babies," etc. I didn't look back and say anything to them. I waited. I waited until the 3rd out was recorded and Beckett took the mound again. Jeter was up. I dared Josh to bean him - very loudly, I might add. It would have been perfect. Instead, Josh hit Giambi, my #2 pick. You can always count on Josh to retaliate. I wish it were Jeter, but I will consider it even with the fat, sweaty, steroid-infested reptile. Not to state the painfully obvious, but I hate the Yankees and I hate Yankee fans. I really wanted to bang all of their heads together ala The Three Stooges. Jerks.

The Sox played marvelously and though I was sad to see Youk leave the game, I was excited that Tito had the where-with-all to put Ellsbury in by moving Hinske (who was terrific, by the way) to 1st. Ellsbury is crazy hot right now and if I were the skipper, I would be carving out ways to play the kid every day.

Very glad that we took the momentum back. Very glad indeed. Tonight's match-up ought to be a fun one to watch. If a fight breaks out, it will happen tonight.

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Saturday, September 15, 2007

Game 1 | 9.14

Well, that sucked. I guess Tito did all the right things. When your bullpen doesn't have it, they don't have it. All you can do is move on. Just wish it didn't happen against them. At least Drew was more productive than usual and they found a way to use Ellsbury. I just can't believe we couldn't get the win. Pettitte was so incredibly hittable. Alright, this is me letting it go.

We will be attending this afternoon's game. The rain is supposed to clear. Beckett has a slightly lower ERA than Wang. Not that it matters much during these match ups. Anything can happen.

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Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Wednesday Stuff

There were 2 moments yesterday at which I forgot that it was September 11th. I feel pretty rotten about that. In one case, I was in the kitchen making pizza and I heard the word "firefighters" come from the television during last night's pre-game ceremony. I walked into the living room and asked if they were honoring the 2 firemen who died in a recent West Roxbury fire. Jere looked at me and said, "Uh, no. It's September 11th." Yikes. This would never have happened if they did what I said and made 9/11 a federal holiday. I'd be willing to swap out Columbus Day or President's Day for it. Wouldn't you?

Moving on.

Though Wake wasn't proverbially "on" last night, the Sox offense was able to take the Devil Rays all the way down town. I am glad that Drew made some decent contact (finally). The kids just keep on hitting. They are so much fun to watch. Coco's been pretty consistent since late July. Funny how no one sings that guy's praises, but they can't wait to complain about him when his game isn't so hot. I hate Boston fans, man.

On Sunday night, we checked out Pleaseeasaur and Neil Hamburger at the Middle East - Upstairs. I saw Hamburger at the same venue last year (probably right around this time, too). Check out Jere's review of the show. I would only add that I haven't seen anything as hysterical as Pleaseeasaur in a very long time. It's rare that I wind up crying from laughing so hard. They perform a song called "I Hate Dog Shit" that's seems like a public service announcement of some kind, but it just gets weirder and weirder as the song goes on. The lyrics are pretty funny, but it's the execution and brilliant performance by Pleaseeasaur that totally got me. The one liners, the mullet wig, the abominable snow man costume, the bad hair news anchor get up - all priceless. Do yourself a favor and check our their stuff.

So, get this. The woman who tried to create the Willy Wonka Smellovision experience is trying to get this out to a wider audience. Okay, as I said, this was a very gallant effort on her part and I totally respect her hard work and dedication to the cause, but I hope she changes up her strategy, because, as I pointed out after we attended one of her experimental presentations, all we ended up smelling was mustard and cigarettes. There was just no way the smells were going to reach people in an outdoor setting when there are mere dabs of stuff on poster board sheets being waved around. Don't be afraid of the smells, lady! Really douse those things before you wave them around. Unless she was going for mustard and cigarettes. In which case, I take it all back.

How about those Patriots, huh? I never thought that crew would sink to that level. I am not a huge fan of football (there's only room for 1 professional sport in my life, though I've been trying to squeeze basketball in these last few seasons), but I've lost a lot of respect for the Pats. You know that non-Patriot fans across the country are totally stoked.

In softball news, we play game 6 tonight in Newton. I think I am well enough to play. I am about to hydrate myself to the gills.

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Sunday, September 9, 2007

The Petraeus Report

A lot of people are highly anticipating General Petraeus' progress report this week in front of Congress. This is interesting because though Petraeus staunchly supports the war and is dedicated to it's "success" (still not sure what exactly defines success here), he is known for his candid delivery. This is a double edged sword for the Republicans. On the one hand, public outing of the lack of progress surrounding the surge will expose the president and the administration. Especially after he's been trying to convince us that it is working. However, they need Petraeus to come clean because even the Republicans in this country are getting tired of the lies. It's good news for the Democrats, too, because it will give them more to exploit.

Evidently, this isn't enough for Senator Dick Durbin (from

Days before Petraeus is scheduled to testify on the progress of the troop surge, the Senate's No. 2 Democrat is accusing the administration of manipulating information in its highly anticipated Iraq report.

"By carefully manipulating the statistics, the Bush-Petraeus report will try to persuade us that violence in Iraq is decreasing and thus the surge is working," Sen. Dick Durbin of Illinois told a Washington think tank.

Durbin, a war critic, said for a long period of time, he has e-mailed civilian employees who were gathering data for the report and writing draft portions of the findings.

"Some of them I correspond with almost on a daily basis. And when they sent a discouraging report about things that were happening in Baghdad, they were reminded by their superiors that's unacceptable, we need a positive report. They were sent back for editing changes. Now that's a fact," Durbin said.

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The Sick Legend of Castle Neck Mike

One evening, back in 1995, I was watching the tabloid "news" show Hard Copy from my living room in Waltham, MA. I tuned in just in time to see a report about a young woman named Kristen Lardner who died in 1992 at the hands of an obvious sociopath named Michael Cartier, or as the Boston locals used to refer to him: Castle Neck Mike. Mike had a full neck tattoo (depicting a castle) in the early 90's before getting a tattoo on one's neck became a common bad-assy type thing to do. He was a really sick individual with a history of drug abuse, extreme physical and mental abuse toward women and general violence. The thing that really weirded me out about the Kristen Lardner murder was that she and I traveled on the same footpaths every day.

She was a student at the Museum of Fine Arts school while I attended Massachusetts College of Art. Both less than a block from one another. She met Mike at AXIS, a club that used to be cool. My friends and I frequented that club often between the years 1990 and 1998. She worked at Marty's Liquors in Allston, not 3 blocks from where my college boyfriend lived. Watching the report on television was a surreal experience. It was also very sad, as Kristen Lardner seemed like a wonderful, caring, and promising young woman. She was perfect prey for a psycho like Cartier. After his abuse and manipulation came the stalking. He violated her restraining order, then gunned her down outside Marty's, right there on Comm Ave. He sped back to his apartment building where he shot himself.

I have since read this. It made me sick to my stomach. And really f'n angry.

I lived right in the center of all of this and don't remember hearing about it. I didn't keep up with the news much then, but geez, you'd think this sort of thing would be all over the place. In May of 1992, when the shooting occurred, I was finishing up my junior year. We were on the summer's threshold. I was about to have a mild stroke which would put me in the hospital for a couple of weeks. Still, I can't believe that I hadn't heard a shred of the story until 1995, on Hard Copy.

An old friend of mine, who briefly cohabitated with Mr. Butch, knew and feared Mike. He and his friends were a few years younger. One of his buddies had the fortune of getting one of Mike's combat boots thrown in his general direction.

In 1990, I had a brief encounter with a young man. My friend Kara and I had just moved into our first apartment on Queensberry Street in the Back Bay. It was still warm out, the semester was days away from starting. We met a couple of kids on the street and I remember thinking one of them was sort of cute. We naively invited them up to our wee studio apartment. They weren't there for long before Kara and I started feeling uneasy about the situation. I forget how they left, maybe we made something up. The next day, one of them, the less stable of the two, stood outside our building, shouted my name, and threw rocks at the windows. He eventually left and I never saw him again. I barely remember his face.


Friday, September 7, 2007

Here's a question ...

does J.D. Drew even want to win? What an enormous let down that guy has been this year.

Major star of last night's name: COCO CRISP. 3-run homer! Amazing back-handed catch! Crazy hair!

Huge contributor: Buchholz. I still can't believe how slight he is. Casey Fossum style.

Way to keep things glued after Wake left the game, fellas!

P.S. I am not even missing Manny at this point.


Thursday, September 6, 2007


Some friends and I went out for breakfast (Percy's on Route 6) last weekend and our lovely time was interrupted by a child with the painfully high pitched scream. He was seated with his parents in the booth to our left. His shout was the kind that hits the most tender part of one's eardrum. Even his laughter was intolerable. To our dismay, his father began encouraging the boy's shouting. It was as though he forgot that they were no longer at home. That they were in a public establishment where manners are kind of a necessity. My friends and I had two choices: Stay and finish our breakfast or leave and give our ears a rest. We split.

Luckily, the family's booth had a window looking out into the parking lot. Our car was parked right in front of said window. The boy was pressed against the window, watching us getting into the car. We used this as an opportunity to get revenge. All three of us, while looking at the child, began screaming our heads off and waving our arms around. This created exactly the reaction we were hoping for. The kid started screaming back (we assume, he looked as though he were screaming. I doubt he was faking it.) and jumping up and down in his seat. The more he jumped and screamed, the more we jumped and screamed. We laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed.

I mean, really. Most times, when a child is acting up in public, the parents tell he or she to stop it. Many explain that it's rude to behave this way. Isn't it normal? I understand that a parent can become desensitized to the decibels at which their kids are capable of reaching, but the parents I know would not allow it in public.

Wow, I've been doing a lot of complaining lately.


So Long, Tenor

I wanted to briefly ackowledge the death of Pavarotti. I was never into opera, but I've got nothing but solid props for the guy and his amazing pipes.

I didn't realize, until this morning, that he recording a song with the Spice Girls. Weird.

It's the cream of the fight

You know what impresses me? Jacoby Ellsbury has perfectly shaped eyebrows.


Wednesday, September 5, 2007

Still D & C Free

Just wanted to let you know that I have made it almost the entire regular season without listening to D & C in the morning on WEEI. I made this pledge back in April or May and I've stood by it. I am a happier person when I waltz into work in the morning. Besides, NPR is a lot more informative.

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Hump Day Catch Up

I see no reason NOT to put Ellsbury in over J.D. Drew if the following things happen:

1. Drew continues to play flatly.
2. The Red Sox advance to the playoffs.

Jacoby made hitting off of Halladay look like a walk in the park. He owned the bases. He was a super stud last night. Can he play right field? Well, they didn't seem to care whether or not Wily Mo could play any old fielding position, right? As long as he was squeezed into the line up. Why would this logic not apply to Ellsbury, who is red hot right now? We want to win, don't we?

All I know is, if management goes against working Jacoby into the line up, and we get eliminated in the playoffs because of some shitty ground out or fly out off of Drew's bat, I will be really pissed. REALLY pissed. I know they won't go with the kid, though. Why? Because it's something that seems logical and clear to me. And my instincts regarding Red Sox decisions are always the opposite of what management does. It's like dealing with my ex-husband.

I was celebrating my friend's birthday during the no hitter. I missed it in real time, but I saw a few key moment's at Jere's parent's place the next day. Glorious.

In office news ... one of my coworkers has been planning her wedding now for what seems like an eternity. Every day, for like the past three years, she can be seen in the hall, on her cell, having a conversation about catering, cakes, floral arrangements or seating charts. She carries a little wedding planner around all the time. Yet, she never leaves the office to get married. She's recently asked us all to donate our used wine corks for some crafty thing she's doing for the reception. I haven't asked her when the big day is. I am afraid to.

Looks like I am going to miss this week's softball game. I think I may have strained a quad muscle or two in my right leg. Oh, Trot Nixon, I literally feel your pain. Every time I think I have a handle on it, I'll get out of my car the wrong way or I'll sprint to cross the street and BAM. It comes right back.

Lastly, I've not made any comment on Michael Vick. Here's the only thing I am going to say: I don't care how *common* dogfighting is where he is from - that is no excuse. It's like saying, "Well, where I come from, tearing the heads off little cats and shoving cat litter down their tiny necks is a weekend activity. With prizes and everything!" Sorry, but inhumanity is inhumanity. I also think that Wonderland is an evil place. I hear that they might be forced into ceasing dog racing activities soon. Thank heavens! Seriously, I have no beef with betting on sports. I don't understand the whole gambling mentality, but I am not against it. It's the cruelty that I have serious objections to.

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