I've Been Tagged!

Juanita Sanchez was kind enough to "tag" me this afternoon on her blog. Apparently I'm supposed t answer the same questions that were put to her by another blogger, and then "tag" three other bloggers. I was a little hesitant, at first, because I don't want this to turn into a "chain letter" type of thing. But these questions are fun, so why not?

Name Four Movies You could Watch Over and Over again.



1. Quiz Show, starring the GORGEOUS Ralph Feinnes
2. Lost in Translation
3. Pretty in Pink
4. Rocky III (I love the fight scene in the beginning and the blend into the Rocky Fanfare song. Freakin' brilliant!!)

Name 4 Jobs I've Had:

I don't have a picture for this one, because it isn't very interesting.

1. Teacher
2. Library Assistant in college (I used to park the cart, snooze on a couch in the corner, completely blow off the shelving, and then collect a pay check)
3. Art department jerk at the Coop in Harvard Square
4. Substitute Teacher (when I was in college)

Name Four Places Where You've Lived



1. Lewiston, Maine (Bates College, seen above.)
2. Middlebury, Vermont (Middlebury College
3. Avignon, France
4. Hannover, Germany

Name Four Places You'd Rather Be.



1. Fiji
2. Arizona
3. Southern France
4. Dubai

Name Four TV Shows You Watch


1. The Apprentice (which, if you follow my lead, you will join me in simply calling, "The Donald Trump Show.")
2. ER (somebody still has to watch it)
3. Seinfeld
4. Pimp My Ride

Name Four Places Where You've Vacationed



1. Hallstadt, Austria
2. Dubrovnik, Croatia
3. Santorini, Greece
4. Amsterdan, Netherlands

OK...Reesie, California Mo and Liz Fwiz...consider yourselves tagged!

All in a Name

As most of my faithful readers know, I am anxiously awaiting the upcoming premier of season 5 of NBC's The Apprentice

For some reason, which I still can't put my finger on, I freakin' love this show! I am not quite sure whether I started watching it straight away at the beginning of the first season, or whether I just caught it one night during a random TV watching fest.

In any event, it quickly became my favorite show and is the only show that I really have to see each week.

My awesome cousin, Reesie, is now "hosting" an online Yahoo Apprentice game which promises to be pretty fun.

Anyway, Reesie told us that we could commence with the round of questions for the first week. At first I thought I was not able to view video clips from NBC on my Mac, so I went in and blindly made my decisions and predictions. If you read my following post, you will see that I have discovered a way to view the clips, and so I did go and edit a few answers based on what I saw.

The funny thing is, though (and here comes the significance of the title of today's post), when I first looked at the names of the list of contestants, my stomach lurched when I saw that there were players by the names of Brent and Bryce vying for the Apprentice position.

I immediately went to Reesie's blog and posted a comment in which I stated for an absolute fact, in spite of never having met this Bryce character, or in spite of not even having seen his video, that this guy would be a 100% certifiable ASSHOLE!

How did I know? Come on folks...

Anybody named Bryce is a total jerk. There are certain names that carry attributes with them, but in some cases, a person with that particular name will manage to avoid those attributes. Bryce, however, is like dye permanently cast. The moment you name your child Bryce, you have stamped him forever with the following attributes:
egotism, arrogance, self-righteousness, harsh critical view of everybody around him, superiority complex, inflated sense of self, meanness and just straight up nastiness.

There's no way around it.

As for the Brent guy, I was willing to admit that he might be a nice guy, but that 9 out of 10 Brents are like Mini-Bryces. Meaning, of course, that they are possessed of many of the same character flaws as our Bryce friends, but to a somewhat lesser extent.

Now, getting back to my newly discovered ability to watch the audition clips of the contestants...

The first thing I did was click into Bryce's audition. I was going to really have to eat crow if I was wrong.

There will be no crow served up for dinner in the Jovifan household tonight, my friends.

This guy Bryce is a complete arrogant asshole. In his interview he asks the questions, "Am I spoiled? Hell yes!" (I hate when people communicate by asking themselves questions and answering them!! More and more people seem to be electing this communication style these days and it has to stop, people!) He proceeds to tell us how he had a 40,000 dollar car for high school graduation and some Mercedes for college graduation. He then goes on to explain that he lived in a $200,000 home in college to establish in-state residency. I smell a rat here. If a kid tries to establish in state residency,it is usually because the university is expensive and in state tuition is cheaper. If he was swimming in the money like that, what's up with the in state residency farce? I'd be all over him with that one.
This guy is going to be a major DICKHEAD. And I hate that word. But there you have it. I can tell he'll be around for a few weeks because he'll totally piss people off and it will be great for the ratings.

We can't expect the Donald's toupee to do all the ratings-gaining work! Somebody has to help the brother's piece out. It can't always be center stage!

But I'll tell ya, the accuracy with which I was able to peg this guy's personality even before I heard him open up and spill forth his verbal diarrhea, based on his name alone, is pretty tell-tale of the fact that a name can say so much!

Here are a few thoughts on the candidates as I've judged them based upon their initial interview clips.

1. Sunny: The funny thing about the women is that in each one of their interviews, they were asked to rate themselves in terms of looks, sexuality or both. I don't recall the men having to comment upon this topic. Anyway, this Sunny chick is a restaurant owner who states proudly that she loves her own body. She seems OK, I guess, but I couldn't really figure out what substance they got from her except that she loves her body and looks good in a bikini. What that has to do with her business ventures remains to be seen.

Tammy: Tammy is another one of these people who asks herself a question and then answers it. I hate that! She has the fake raspy voice, like Sarah Vancouver in The Bachelor. Also, she has some pretty extreme freakin eyebrows! They look great, but they are not simply shaped, they are freakin' sculpted with crowbars and shit.

Allie: I know this will bum Lauren out, but this girl is an annoying, mousy, "I-rely-on-my-looks-to-flirt-my-way-into-or-out-of-any-situation" bimbo. Sure, I get the whole Harvard MBA thing, but I don't see it. I hope she is one of the first ones to go, for if I have to listen to that valley girl drone for an entire season of the Donald Trump show, I'll surely go more insane than I already am!

Andrea She seems annoying. She sells stickers and t-shirt.

Bryce: Loud, obnoxious and really disgustingly slovenly looking. Again, all in a name!

Charmain I guess she seems ok, but she was another one rambling on about how her looks have helped her out in the business world. Actually, of all the women, I think I might have liked her the best. That's not saying much, Charmain, so if you're reading this, don't be that flattered!

Dan: Just like his name, totally unexceptional and unmemorable.

Lee: No recollection

Lenny: A self-made, pulled-himself-up-by-his-bootstraps Russian immigrant who made it big. I think the Donald has a weakness for the eastern block women. Let's see if it applies to Sylvester Stallone look-alike Russians.

Tareck: At first he annoyed me, but I quickly realized that he seems to have a sense of humor about himself. He seems ok.

Theresa: Totally class-less slutty stereotypical psycho-therapist. They show her sitting there, hair pulled into a tight bun, black horn rimmed glasses sitting at the edge of her nose as she seductively takes notes on her patient (probably an 80 year old male whose having a heart attack as she leans over him, reavealing her boobies!) She seems like a totally arrogant jerk and I can't wait for her to get canned!

Roxanne: She is my pick for the season. She actually seems smart and unlike all the other women, she did not talk about her sexuality. She seems to have a little more self respect than the other women.

One of the guys has a British accent. He seems really arrogant, but just like the kind of guy who might make it in this thing. I can't wait!

Bring it on BRYCE!!!

Crap, my spell checker isn't working!

Am I FIRED??

Way Cool!

Wow! A few months back, when I was trying to shop at Gap online, I was confused as to why I could not open the Gap page on my computer. After conducting a little research, I found that the Gap site does not support the Safari Mac browser. I therefore downloaded a little browser called "Firefox" which I used to open the Gap page. I then closed out of Firefox and have not given it another thought.

In reading Reesie's blog, I learned that the voting has indeed begun for week 1 of the new Donald Trump show series. Reesie sagely encouraged me to go to the Apprentice site to watch the videos so that, to use her words, I wouldn't have to "go into it blind."

I was annoyed to see that these video clips would not play on my Mac. Having resigned myself to the fact that I'd be on the horn with the Apple guy for three hours, trying to figure out which media player I needed to install, I picked up my phone, settled in comfortably at the computer, and prepared myself for the never-ending process of executing 2,009 downloads.

The Apple guy asked me, "Before we get started, do you happen to have Firefox." I said yes and the Apple Guy encouraged me to try viewing the clips with the Firefox browser instead of Safari. Sure enough, I was able to view them. Way cool! Of course, they took a little longer to see and cue up,but I don't care. As long as I get to see them in order to make some educated guesses!

Then I had another brillian idea! If Firefox could allow me to see the Donald Trump clips, perhaps it would also help me get the full menu on the blogger site.

Sure enough It worked!!!

I can publish in italics or in bold!

How great is this? Reesie, I'm sure I can now add the sidebar stuff. You'll have to tell me what to do again!

Pommegranate Martinis and Scientology Conspiracies

Last night I went out for dinner at The West Side Lounge in Cambridge with the fabulous Faye, the fantastic Becky and Becky's magnificent friend, Sharon, who was here for a visit. Faye has just recently returned from a 2-week trip to Kenya and we were all anxiously awaiting the opportunity to get together to hear her tales of woe. You'd have to know Faye to know that if she's involved, there will, inevitably, be tales of woe to recount.

The West Side Lounge is a little on the "de-trop" side for me (I'm a pub kind of girl), but the occasional foray into a hip spot never hurt a girl, did it? Besides which, Faye and Becky are not necessarily pub kinds of gals.

Anyway, Faye did not disappoint, and we spent much of the earlier part of the evening discussing her trip. She told us about the amazing safaris she took, the gorgeous animals she saw (she even had a picture of herself petting a cheetah while the thing was gnawing away on some nasty ass ham hock), the beautiful seaside villa she stayed in for several days and the guy who caught fish in the ocean moments before knocking on their door to see if they wanted to buy any. She told us of her bargaining prowess at the outdoor markets and brought us all back really beautiful little souvenirs. (She gave me a lovely little bowl with a carving of a giraffe inside...really gorgeous!) Her trip sounded beautiful and I was about to hop on a plane to Kenya myself. The only thing keeping me anchored to the table at that point was my glass of overpriced Sauvignon Blanc.

Anyway, the appetizers were consumed and as a second round of drinks made its way to our table, Faye did begin to talk a little about the unavoidable issue of poverty in Africa. She never really got to tell us too much of what she saw because, somehow, the topic of famous people who do charitable work entered the discussion.

We stayed with that theme for a while. We all agreed that people like Oprah, Bono, and Angelina Jolie do wonderful things for people, and that we are annoyed by people who criticize them and accuse them of doing the work they do for publicity. We pretty much reached the consensus that if these people are public in the charity work they do, it is only because they want to call attention to issues they clearly care about. At least that's how we feel.

From there, the discussion quickly descended into the seedy gossip stuff surrounding celebrities. I was shocked to find out that Faye is obsessed, I mean OBSESSED with Caleb gossip.



It turns out, she loves all this crap. The funny thing is that Faye is just so hilarious that she can make this gossip stuff, in which I have otherwise absolutely no interest, the most entertaining thing in the world. I was in fits of laughter all night long. For not only does Faye report back on the gossip she hears and reads, but then she goes a step further by formulating "theories" about these people. She will also inform you not to trust anything you read unless it comes from the AP. Otherwise, she says, you're being duped!

More on the theories in due time.

I made the fatal mistake of saying that I felt kind of badly for Jennifer Aniston in her split with Brad Pitt. Faye immediately put me straight by telling me, "Giiiiiirl.....Jennifer Aniston is over Brad Pitt's ass and has been for months. She's playing the 'poor me' sympathy card for the press."

Enter her first theory....

The reason Jennifer Aniston's movies have been met with lukewarm enthusiasm at best is because she's worn out her welcome with the public by whining and telling her "woe is me" tales.

Faye assured me that Jennifer is fine and not to worry about her. Not that I really worried about her. I'm actually not a fan of Jennifer, Brad or Angelina. That said, I don't particularly dislike any of them, either.




Onto Katie Holmes and Tom Cruise. According to Faye, these two most definitely are together as a publicity stunt. She claims that the timing was right for his "War of the Worlds" movie and whatever movie she was in. I know this is hardly a new theory, but I'm just saying that Faye believes in it wholeheartedly. And to hear the authority with which she speaks on the subject, I have little choice but to see her logic.

She claims Katie and Tom are pissed that Angelina and Brad are about to have a baby because it is stealing their thunder. This brought us to the next mysterious topic. Katie Holmes announced her pregnancy to the world about 4 years ago and yet she is still pregnant. Angelina announced her pregnancy 30 seconds ago and looks ready to pop at any seconds.

Faye claims Katie is waiting for Tom's "Mission Impossible 3" to come out before having the kid. I didn't even know a MI 3 was coming out. When is that going to happen? 2020? At this rate of gestation, Katie might just be ready to have the kid at that time.

As for the whole Katie and Tom divorce thing. Faye claims this is another publicity stunt. She claims that since the world is so focused on Brad and Angie, they are creating this rumor of a divorce to get the attention back on themselves.

This is so pathetic.

But these are the theories that really made me laugh..

1. Katie and Tom are in a totally fake relationship

2. Katie isn't really even pregnant (Faye sites this "pregnancy progression chart" that she saw online in which Katie is larger in "3 month" photos than she is in "7 month" photos. When I asked if this could be the fault of the person assembling the collage, Faye dismissed my question as absurd!)

3. Katie is pregnant, but she has not been impregnated by Tom. Rather, she has been impregnated artificially with the sperm of L. Ron Hubbard. Of course, it was at this moment when the otherwise loud restaurant had one of those lulls in volume. Faye didn't care though. To her, this is important stuff!



We moved our party over to Starbucks for an after-dinner coffee. We were disappointed to find it rather crowded. We could not find a place to sit so we were about to leave. But Faye urged us to stay for a few more minutes so she could share the earth shattering news she'd just heard about Jessica Simpson.

We positioned ourselves rather awkwardly and inconveniently (for other customers) in between the two milk/sugar counters. Normally, customers would stand in that space to prepare their coffee and then leave. But with the way we were standing there, they had to perform Cirque De Soleil movements around us to get at the cream and sugar.

Anyway, Faye proceeded to tell us the story of how it was pretty much proven that Jessica Simpson was no virgin when she got married and that how some guy on a movie set claimed to have had, well, an alternative form of sex with her. Faye was totally unphased by the fact that these Cambridge women were horrified by the discussion as they put honey in their herbal tea. One young guy was trying to conceal his laughter as he put milk in his coffee. Other people just seemed to want to get the hell out of there as quickly as possible.

it really was funny.

Before I close out of this topic, let me just say that hands down and without reservation, I would put Faye up there in the top 5 most intelligent people I know. Book smarts. Street smarts. Work Smarts. People smarts. She has it all. I find it so refreshing and funny when somebody that smart can be so unabashedly addiced to something like celebrity gossip!

You go girl!



In a totally unrelated matter, I went to Marshalls to return some stuff today. I had to get a store credit since I'd bought the items in like 1934 and obviously went past the 30 day return time. Anyway, in looking around for something to buy, I stumbled upon these great Merrell Snow Moccasins. I know they aren't much to look at, but when you can land a 90 dollar pair of Merrells for 30, you run to the register and don't look back!!

It sucks that it is snowing out now, but I'm happy to have my Merrells!

Santa Will Bring it....in just 10 short months!

I know, I know. More talk about Allie. She is just way too cute to resist. I sometimes find myself just thinking about her and what a sweetie she is.

Lauren and I took her to Target early this week (big shock) just to kick around and do a little shopping. We didn't need anything in particular, but it was just an opportunity to hang out for a while.

When we arrive at Target, Allie inevitably decides that she cannot leave my side. Nor can she let Lauren and Caroline out of her sight. She just loves being with everybody so much that it really is difficult for her to decide which of us to join in the event that we have to split up to find separate things. If Lauren heads one way and I set out in the opposite direction, Allie keeps pleading, "Come on. Come on, Auntie." Eventually, I have to abandon my plans to go in the opposite direction because it would just be way too traumatic for the poor little soul to have to decide which of us she wants to accompany.

Normally, though, if pressed, she'll decide to come with me. I think this is just for a change of scenery. She sees me less frequently than she sees Lauren, so she soaks up all the Auntie time she can when I'm around.

It could also have something to do with the fact that she knows I'll buy her something.

Actually, though, Allie isn't like that. She's just really sweet and I think she would rather spend time with people than have new toys or whatever.

That said, I did buy her some princess story anthology. It was a lovely, hard covered book with all the Disney stories about princesses. It was surprisingly marked only 7.99. When I brought it to the register, it rang up at around 20 bucks. I told the woman I would not take it for that price. I really didn't even care, but I mentioned to the cashier that she might want to have somebody in books check it out; there were, after all, about ten of the same books mismarked on the shelf. She revealed that Target has a policy that if the price discrepancy is less than 20 dollars, the cashier can just change it. So, I bought Allie the book and she was very happy. But even when she thought I might not buy it, she didn't even care.




The cutest thing ever, though, involves Allie's totally calm acceptance of the fact that she has to leave most of the things she wants in Target and can't take them home. I take the wimpy approach and allow her to stick M&Ms and chips into the carriage only to remove them later when she's not looking. She forgets before we get to the register.

Lauren, on the other hand, is very straight-up with her and just tells her that she can't have everything she wants. And she just smiles, puts the desired item back on the shelf, and moves onto the next item.

Now she is into this thing where she'll go to a shelf, pick something up and ask, "Auntie, do you like chips?" When I tell her that indeed, I do like chips, she suggets, as if to make my life more pleasant, "We bring chips home?" Again, the purchase of the chips is presented as an act that will dramatically improve the quality of MY life.

I was a little worried that she would get upset if I told her no, but I was only carrying a little handbasket and I didn't have the room to carry around the bag of chips (even on a temporary basis), so I suggested that the chips might stay in Target. To this Allie replied, "I ask Santa to bring them???" I assured her that this was a "great idea!" She smiled triumphantly, as if pleased with her own clever idea and simply walked away from the chips.

Lauren, unphased by the whole exchange, explained that Allie has been doing this ever since Christmas, this being the first time she really understood the concept of Santa. I just think this is so damn cute! She completely accepts that Santa will bring her the chips or the dolls or the M&Ms and never insists that she wants it now. She never demands to have it now. She doesn't cry. She doesn't have a tantrum. She just smiles happily at the thought of Santa coming to bring her those Easter M&Ms and enjoys the rest of the shopping spree in Target.

Man, this is just one adorable, sweet, good natured kid. I don't have children, but if I do, I sure hope they're just like my little Allie Cat!

Another Taxi Tale of Woe

Anybody who knows me knows that I cannot simply get in a taxi cab and expect to get a pleasant, uneventful ride home. Normally, any taxi that I take is being driven by a mental hospital escapee, a con artist who thinks that I won't notice if he drives from Cambridge to Quebec and back before depositing me in front of my Somerville apartment with a fare resembling the GDP of a developing nation, or an otherwise "OK" but extremely talkative chatterbox.

Here are a few of my more famous taxi cab stories. These tales have entertained friends for years, and I hope you can enjoy them, too.

1. The most famous cab driver was a 3 foot-tall Hispanic man who picked me up in Boston one New Year's Eve. He claimed to have been in Maine earlier in the day. In fact, he claimed to have been "partying like an animal" in Maine for the previous two days. It was well past 3 AM and he was proudly advertising the fact that he hadn't slept in days because of his extreme "partying." Every time he said the word, "partying" he made sure to shoot me a knowing and conspiratorial look in the rear view mirror.

I made the mistake of asking him where in Maine he had been. I figured, if anything, as long as I could keep the conversation giong, the guy might be able to stay awake long enough to get me home in one piece.

He replied that he had been in Portland, hanging out with his girlfriend, Kitty, the stripper. He continued to regale me with the tale of his New Year's Eve celebration cut short by his obligation to drive the taxi in Boston later in the evening. He told me that he had used his cab to transport Kitty and her colleagues, "all scantily clad strippers" to use his words, to their "gig." He also picked them up after the show. Apparently, their various dance routines were met with rousing enthusiasm from the patrons of the bar because, according to my driver, "the girls was all in the back, shakin' and jigglin', all scantily clad and rollin' around in 5 and 10 dollar bills." There was the use of the expression "scantily clad" again.

He went back to the girls' apartment for a "couple drinks" and came out at around 9, preparing for the 3 hour trip to Boston. He was livid to find that his car had been sideswiped by the snow plow, which, incidentally, also left him completely blocked in.

The story went on and on like this and I was treated to a full account of the trials and tribulations faced by this man in his efforts to return to Boston.

Upon my safe return home, I almost called the police. I was pretty convinced this "party animal" was in no shape to drive.

2. About 4 years ago, my German friend, Julia, came to visit. We took a cab home after a night out on the town. The taxi driver asked me if I had been told I looked like anybody famous. Before I had the chance to answer, "no," he shusshed me, saying, "No. No. Don't tell me. Let me figure it out." Again, I was locked in the gaze of the driver through the rear view mirror. At one point, I ventured to say, "Wow, if you paid as much attention to the road as you did to my face, you might even manage to NOT wrap your taxi around a telephone pole." The guy didn't even flinch. He just continued staring at me and pointedly ignoring the road stating, "Not to worry. This isn't my taxi. If I crash it doesn't matter."

Ahh.....??

Anyway, he continued to badger me about this for the next 15 minutes. At some point, he relented his mental exercise of trying to "place" me and said, "OK, sister, tell me. Who do you look like?"

I don't know why I said what I said, but I replied, "Dennis Rodman. Everybody tells me I am a dead ringer for Dennis Rodman. I have fans asking for pictures and autographs and when I try to tell them I'm not Dennis Rodman, they don't believe me. So, inevitably, I end up in photographs of every tourist and sports fan."

Once again, the guy really didn't even react. He stared a little more deeply at me through his mirror and said, "No. I don't see Dennis Rodman. Larry Bird I could definitely see. But not Rodman. No. I'm just not getting Rodman."

Hello!!!???

So, apparently although I could not stand in as a stunt double for Dennis Rodman, I could be easily mistaken for Larry Bird, one of the most unattractive sports legends I can think of.

I guess I brought that one on myself.

There are countless others that go on like this.

3. The third and final incident happened tonight. I was out and I met up with a friend of mine who is a Doctor. We ended up sharing a cab home, and we were having a few laughs in the back seat. The cab driver said something rather witty, and somehow, my reply of, "Well, thank goodness we have a doctor in the house" seemed appropriate.

The guy asked which of us was the doctor and we indicated that my friend is. The taxi driver was friendly enough and hearing my friend's accent, asked where he came from. My friend informed the driver that he is from Italy and the driver celebrated their shared Italian background. Some discussion of gnocci and pesto sauce ensued.

Eventually the conversation fell to how both my friend and I, at different points in our lives, have lived in Germany. The cab driver asked if we spoke German and we both said we did. He further pumped my friend for information about his work and my friend said that although he is a fully qualified practitioner, he prefers to do research in oncology and indeed does so at MIT in the prestigious Whitehead laboratories.

With this, the cab driver reached my friend's house and after dropping him off, we continued on to my place.

The driver pronounced his admiration of my friend's obvious intellectual capabilities and his admiration of his obvious down-to-earth personality. I agreed with all of his praises and even proffered more information to further his argument that my friend is of extraordinary cerebral capacity.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, this grandfatherly taxi driver stated, "Yeah, that's why the white race is running the world." He further went on to say that whites constitute only 10 percent of the world's population, and yet whites dominate every aspect of humanity and learning.

I was just a few blocks from my home at that point. Without arguing, because really, what's the point? I told the driver that the spot we were in was perfect and I could be dropped there.

Yes, I was wearing uncomfortable shoes and it was cold outside. It would have been nice to sit in the cab and ignore the idiot for a few more blocks, but I just really couldn't do it. I reasoned that I could not give money to this idiot. Or at least any more than was already recorded on the meter.

I had to get out of the cab, on principle alone!

I am a teacher of civics and of course my entire month of February is devoted to black history month. How could I be up there in front of the room teaching this stuff and then sit in the cab, saying nothing, and putting food on this jerk's table?

The thing that gets me crazy about people like this is that they shoot their mouths off without the slightest bit of forethought or consideration for anybody around them. What if I were married to a non white man? What if I had non white children or other relatives? What if I, myself, were not white? Sometimes you can't know what a person's "makeup" is just by looking at them.

This stuff really pisses me off.

But here's the thing. I wasn't going to argue and I wasn't going to demand my money back. He had rendered a service and I was prepared to pay, but I was not prepared to further his ability to render service and pocket more of my money, the money I earn by trying to teach people how to be decent human beings. So, in my own quiet way, I sent my own quiet message that I wasn't tolerating his hate speech. He did ask me, "I thought you needed to go to XXXX St." To which I simply replied, "No thanks. I'll walk the rest of the way. Here is fine." I conducted the remainder of my business with him calmly and politely. But maybe he'll get the message.

Probaby not, but I don't have to further contribute to it.





Let's remember this stuff and try not to go back to these days.

Actually, as I sit here looking at this picture, I have to laugh because this taxi driver, who was hard pressed to construct a grammatically correct sentence, was prepared to seriously pit his intelligence agains that of people of other ethnic backgrounds. OK, let me just say now that I want to be there, front and center, when this clown is entering into a contest of intellect with Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Even 30 years deceased, Dr. King would run circles around this fool or anybody like him.

Pathetic.

Ok, that's my pontification for the day. More frivolity tomorrow. I promise.

A Monday Night Well Spent in Front of the Boob Tube

So last night, looking forward to my week off from school and realizing that I could stay up late and watch as much crappy TV as I wanted, I settled right down in front of the boob tube to do exactly that. (Hey, cut me some slack, I had already gone to the gym where I did my strength training class and my aerobics class!).

First up was a show called, "Wife Swap." It appeared that, as luck would have it, this was not a new episode of the show, but rather a 2-hour rehash of past episodes, with a review of what happened when the wives were "swapped" and how the families are faring these days. Seemed mildly amusing, if not interesting.

It is all really predictable, if you ask me. I mean, if you settle in to watch an episode of this show and can't predict that there will be major conflict, tears and confrontation, you're either brain dead or asleep. Maybe both. I mean, gee, let's see if I can remember some of the scenarios. In one swap, a wife from a strictly-regimented, almost military style household, where all the family members are assigned list upon list of daily chores, the children call the parents ma'am and sir, and all meals strictly adhere to a lo-cal, low-fat, low-sodium vegetarian diet, goes to a family where the people are absolutely enormously obese, the kids do nothing but lounge around the house all day long, and eat nothing but high-fat fast foods. In another swap, a germ-phobe goes to a home where the last thorough cleaning took place sometime during the Nixon administration and where 25 pets of all species, including (no joke) a kangaroo have their run of the place. In still another wife swap, a woman who lives in a multi-million dollar Park Avenue pent house goes to live in rural Virginia where she is expected to do her part to help out with wood-splitting chores.

I mean, really. As I said, if you don't see the conflict coming, you must literally be brain dead.

Anyway, onto the real piece de resistance for the evening.

The Bachelor Paris: The women tell all. This episode is a standard in every season of The Bachelor. In the episode just prior to the season finale, in which the bachelor will make his ultimate decision, there is an episode in which all the shunned women from throughout the season convene to criticize each other, talk about what a terrible mistake the bachelor made in letting them go, and "confront" the bachelor. Usually the advertisements for the show build up the event to make it appear much more dramatic than it actually ends up being. This particular episode was no exception.

For example, throughout the evening, they kept running commercials about the certifiably insane Allie G.



Ahhh, yes. I think we all remember good old Allie G. This is a still of her standing through the first rose ceremony. Remember, she had, just moments before, confided in Travis that she was planning on "entering the reproductive phase" of her life. I think we all saw the handwriting on the wall throughout this rose ceremony. Travis was obviously NOT going to give this mental case a rose. I think this picture must have been taken very close to the end of the ceremony, when Travis was down to his last couple of roses and she was becoming increasingly agitated. You can already see that this woman is an emotional force to be reckoned with. Obviously, Travis decided he was not going to be the one doing the reckoning.

We all know the end; Allie went nuts, confronting Travis and accusing him of being a player and not liking her because she was too short or her breasts were too small.

Anyway, back to the pre "Women Tell All" commercials. Numerous references to Allie G were made and in the end, it turns out she wasn't even there. She declined the invitation to appear on the show. Gee, wonder why.

In an ultimate "class act" when the host of the show asked Travis how he reacted to Allie G, Travis refused to deign to criticize Allie. He simply said, "Come on, Man. Let her move on with her life."

What? I expected some serious criticism. Why the hell else would I be watching? Whatever.



The woman pictured above, Jennifer, really surprised me on this "Women Tell All" show. That's for sure. On the season, she always seemed pretty nice, but in this show, she was just a resentful, angry, bitter, scornful, derisive bitch. She spent a significant amount of time attacking "scratchy voice" Sarah, who otherwise drove me nuts. But, when Jennifer turned out to be such a jerk, making faces at every woman who spoke, speaking in a really condescending sarcastic tone to every single person there, and just making herself look like a piece of garbage, all I could think of was how I was glad that Sarah had beat her out on the camping date. Jennifer revealed herself to be a jerk.

In one other moment on the show, when Susan, the most recently rejected bachelorette, was defending herself and saying that she really did want to be on the show for Travis and that she wasn't there to be discovered as an actress (which, by the way, I don't believe), Jennifer kept attacking her. Some other woman, who had been rejected in the very first episode, and whom nobody really had any recollection of, very kindly and articulately stepped in to speak in Susan's defense. She said, "Why can't she want to be an actress AND want to appear on the Bachelor? Why does the fact that she wants to be an actress automatically mean that she is incapable of being sincere?" To this, Jennifer replied, "What? Look, I lived in the house longer with Susan than you did. You were rejected on the first night. Nobody even knows your name, honey, including me!"

I thought this was COMPLETELY uncalled for. It was funny, though, because I just enjoyed sitting back and watching Jennifer self destruct. What a be-otch!



And here is good old Moana pictured above. I think, and I always have thought, that she is the prettiest bachelorette on the show. It was sickening to hear all the rejected women, who spent so much of their time tearing Moana apart and making every attempt to ostracize her, all saying that they loved her and that she had such a soft, loving side.

These women are all such arrogant, self-loving bitches that I'm convinced they spend every single Monday night watching themselves on TV with the rest of us. Don't they see that all they did was knock Moana throughout the entire filming of the show. Now they can sit there, straight-faced, and say that they love her?

They have got to be kidding.

OK, so here's my prediction for next week.

They show Travis, just having sent a woman home in the limo, tearing himself up for having hurt somebody. He wistfully says, "I hope she'll be OK, but the problem is that I'll never be able to find out."

Throughout the show, he's been very concerned by Moana's seemingly fragile emotional state and pretty convinced that Sarah from TN is pretty resilient and fun and stable. I'm thinking that, based on his obvious concern that he may have sent somebody over the deep end, perhaps Moana is the one to go.

Of course, they probably just showed that moment for that very purpose.

I'm usually wrong in my predictions. But I'm picking Sarah from TN as the "keeper'.

I DID IT!!!!

Dee is my favorite step aerobics instructor at my gym. If I know she is teaching a class, I know I am guaranteed a butt-kicking, fabulous workout. I will get up out of a warm bed on a Saturday morning to make her 8:00 AM class, and I will make sure that I'm there for her "Super Step" class on Friday evening at 5:30 before officially kicking off my weekend.

There are several things that amaze me about this woman. First, in a recent conversation with her, she revealed that her boyfriend was several years younger than she. Hardly a revolutionary concept. I didn't even think anything of it until she said that her boyfriend was 43 years old. Thinking that she had misspoken, I pointed out that she said her boyfriend was "43." After taking at least 3 aerobics classes weekly with this woman for the past 3 years, I was under the impression that she was within a year or two of my own age, 32. When I "corrected" her, she stood flummoxed for a moment. I thought she must have meant to say that he was 33. How in the name of God could somebody aged 43 be several years younger than Dee?

Lo and behold, she revealed to me that she is, indeed 46 years old. Now look, I know that 46 is young, but to be 46 and look not a day over 32 is pretty incredible. I guess that is the benefit of exercise, right?

The second thing that amazes me about this woman is that she is absolutely TINY, yet when she is teaching a strength training class, she is invariably up there lifting at least twice what I am lifting, and I am at least TWICE her size. She is as strong as an ox. Another testimonial to exercise, I guess.

And the third thing that I find amazing about this woman is her endurance. She will teach up to 4 classes in a row. And when she teaches, she really gets up there and does everything right along with the class. None of this standing around up there eating a meat lovers' Dominos pizza while she calls out to us what to do. No siree, Bob. She's up there, doing the full fledged workout and calling all the moves, never out of breath and never even breaking a freakin' sweat. She's unreal. Most of the times, when she teaches several classes in a row, she'll do some muscle class, followed by a cardio class, etc. But on Friday nights, it blows me away that she teaches two sessions of full-out step aerobics in a row. That's two full hours back to back. I always wondered how the hell she does it. I mean, after just one hour, I'm beat.

So, last Saturday, I'm at the gym working out, and she comes in to exercise. Not to teach, just to work out. So, in chatting with her, I asked her how the hell she manages to do both step classes, back to back. She surprised me by saying that sometimes, the second one actually gets easier than the first one. Hogwash, I thought!

I dismissed it as an obvious sign of psychosis on this otherwise totally normal woman's behalf.

Then, my cousin, California Mo, called, and we were talking about the gym and exercising, etc. CA Mo told me that at times, she has indeed gone to the gym twice in one day to take two step classes. She goes in the morning, and then again in the afternoon/evening. Like my step instructor, CA Mo has been an exercise addict for years. This whole fitness thing is relatively new to me within the past few years.

But there it was. All week, this whole idea of doing a two hour aerobics challenge was like a call to arms. I had to do it. I trained all week, taking one or more classes each day, or taking a class and then doing some treadmill work. But never two step classes in a row.

Last night, I walked in there, prepared to do what I dubbed the "Dee-athon" (named in honor of Dee, the instructor), but I was prepared to give myself and out and leave at any point during the second class if things got too intense.

I made it through the first class no problem, but I was already dreading the second.

As soon as the second class started up, I started feeling pretty good. I looked up at the clock after what I thought was just a few minutes and discovered that in fact a half hour had already passed. The next ten minutes, for some reason, were rough. But I perservered. The last 20 minutes were great, but my feet started getting very hot..blistery hot. But still, I did not falter.

I was so proud of myself upon completin of these two classes! What a great way to start my weekend and, more importantly, my full week off for "February vacation!"

I look forward to doing it again next weekend and getting conditioned to do it on a regular basis.

I owe a big shout out thanks to my girls Dee and California Mo! Thanks to you, I was able to achieve something of which I'm very proud. Also, as is evidenced by the photograph below, I was able to properly send the weekend and school vacation into full "blast-off!"




peace out!

Current Events..What's Important in My World and Yours...

Like most folks, I spend a bit of time here and there glued to the boob tube. Sometimes I feel guilty and lazy because of it, but then I remind myself that a girl has to watch the news and keep current in order to be a proper, informed lady of society. Then I am able to justify my television viewing and relax, chalking the experience up as my doing my part to remain a productive, informed, contributing member of society.

One of the most important broadcasts in my week and yours (I'm sure) is "The Bachelor Paris." Would it be so wrong to admit that I have actually begun to care about Travis? I just want him to find a little happiness and I feel that if I watch the show and root for a positive outcome, I am doing my part to ensure that this lovely young man (see hot young stud muffin doctor) has a chance to live happily ever after.

Here's the most recently dumped woman, Susan.



Jesus, I was glad to see Travis give this phoney baloney her walking papers. There were a couple of things annoying me and the rest of the known universe about this chick.

1. She was so wrapped up in herself. She was pretty, sure. But I don't think even she thought she was worth more than her pretty face.

2. She was obviously looking to further her already fledgling acting career by being on the show. Oh sure, I think most of the men and women who come on these reality shows are appearing on them with the underlying motive of getting "discovered," but this broad was barely making any efforts to hide it. She even told her dad on the idiotic "hometown" date, that she hoped not to "get cut" this week. Gee, kids, the last time anybody mistook me for Stephen Spielberg was...ahhh...let me thing...NEVER. But even I know some of this Hollywood lingo and "getting cut" is more likely to be used in a casting call setting than in a romantic relationship. Most people in the context of the Bachelor might talk about getting dumped or breaking up, but not this woman. Everything she said was imbued with some acting undertones or ambitions. So transparent.

3. In her last date with Travis, when he told her that his plan was to climb some mountain, she was Waaaaaaayyyyyy to quick to enthusiastically squeal, "Yippie! Are you serious! I can't wait. I love climbing." You know the only thing this jerk ever climbed into was her luxury SUV, arms bogged down with Starbucks lattes, cell phones, Luis Vuitton bags and tiny Chiuaua named "Muffy" or some shit like that. She had the grace of a bull in a china shop up there on the side of that mountain. Sad. Just sad.

4. Later on in the date, when Travis told Susie that he really likes women who are brave enough to disagree with him from time to time, she AGREED that this was a great thing in a relationship. Then he told her that he worries that sometimes she just seems to be saying things that she thinks he wants to hear. At that point, of course, she had to assert that she was an independent thinker who spoke her mind all the time. Hmmm...isn't that what Travis wanted to hear?

Obviously with this airhead, the lights were on (and very pretty), but nobody was home.

Travis had the presence of mind to cut this dead weight during the rose ceremony. Too bad he didn't bother to cut her loose while they were climbing the rock. Ha ha. No just kidding. That was kind of mean!

Here are the two women Travis has left...



My cousin, California Mo, and I are both fans of Tennessee Sarah. (They have to identify her by her home state because, invariably in every season of the show, there are 678 contestants named Sarah.) Tennessee Sarah is the woman in the purple dress. She is lovely. She's smart, funny, charming, down to earth and for the first time in this show's history (and I am an expert), she seems to be completely normal. Of course this means that Travis will probably make haste to dump her. He keeps going on and on about how he worries that they seem to be friends and have not truly forged that romantic spark. Christ, he's known her for like three seconds. What does he expect?

The other woman, Moana (of the dark hair) also seems OK, but a little emotionally unstable. There always has to be one!

I'll be watching the next couple of episodes, and I know that California Mo will be right there with me, albeit 3 time zones behind. I have the power, Mo, because I'll know, three hours before you, who, if anybody, will be the future Mrs. Doctor Travis. I'm just a phone call away if you can't take the suspense..or if you just get too damn tired to wait up!

I commented upon this at length because I'm sure that you're all as enraptured by it as I am.



Of course I'm also following the Olympics with interest. Talk about reality TV! I was really sad to see that Michelle Kwan had to pull out of competition. She claims a pulled groin muscle is forcing her to withdraw from competition. For you or I, a pulled groin muscle might be a painful little inconvenience. For Michelle Kwan, whose normal daily routine involves adopting the pose pictured here, the groin pull is obviously much more of a hindrance. Reminder to self...stop walking around the streets of Somerville in this pose as I normally do every day. Could lead to pulled groin muscle!

I have to wonder if Kwan's withdrawal has anything to do with the new scoring system, which reportedly is much more brutal, demanding more technical difficulty, jumps and footwork. Perhaps Kwan wants to go out with all the current glory she currently enjoys, rather than fall victim to some scoring system that clearly does not favor her style.



The other big news, of course, is the failure of Bode Miller to earn a medal in the men's downhill skiing competition. He was DQ'd for "straddling the pole" whatever the hell that means. He was criticized for talk of skiing while tanked. I don't know, but if you ask me, I would say that "straddling a pole" sounds much more questionable than having a couple of Pabst Blue Ribbons and then skiing down a Quadruple black diamond complete with moguls, sharp turns and rogue trees popping up at every unexpected turn.

But still, I have no sympathy for Miller as I do for Kwan. Kwan has always been a class act. Miller has proven himself to be little more than a petulant, spoiled, arrogant child. If anybody is looking for Bode now, check the bar of the apres-ski lodge. I'm sure that's where he'll be!



And what the hell is this crap with Dick Cheney shooting his buddy while hunting? And without proper permits? What the hell is this, a throwback to the days of freakin' Aaron Burr? So, let me get this straight...

The guy..

1. is ugly

2. shoots his friends while hunting for quail (did he think is was "quail?")

3. is ugly

4. Uses profanity when speaking to members of Congress

5. is ugly

6 is ugly

7. is ugly

8. is ugly

9 is ugly

10 is ugly

Hmm.....

Is it 2008 yet?

Happy V-Day!

These are the flowers begifted to me by my one and only Cutie Pie. They came from my absolute favorite florist in Harvard Square. Shout out to Brattle Florist!

Happy Valentine's Day to all y'all!

So, here I am on Valentine's Day Eve.

Valentine's Day has kind of snuck up on me this year. I was caught completely by surprise today as I realized that it is, indeed, February 13.

I have to admit, I was doing a littel bit of scrambling to figure out what to get my sweetheart for Valentine's day. I did settle on a gift, but I had better not reveal the secret on my blog, in the event that Stephen decides to take a peek at my blog tonight. I actually think he looks at it very infrequently, but this would be the one time he'd venture onto it to take a look.

Anyway, suffice it to say that my shopping trip involved a stop at Target. I hadn't actually planned on going to Target, but Lauren called and said she was in the car with the kids and they were headed there themselves. So, I decided to join them in their Target run.

The usual Target protocol involves "Auntie" (me) carrying around a shopping basket that Allie and I "share". I use quotations there because Auntie does all the carrying while Allie does lots of tossing completely decadent and unnecessary items into the thing, which I dispose of throughout our meanderings through the store. I feel bad for the poor guy who has to tidy up the store following our visits. It goes a little something like this..Al stuffs something like a 9 pound box of M&Ms into the basket in the candy aisle. I usually dispose of it somewhere in Health and Beauty or Pharmacy. Later, she finds some kind of Barbie Condominium or Life-Size stuffed pony, which I gladly let her put in the basket. I usually end up disposing of that somewhere around Books or Movies/Music.

I'm usually good at getting rid of all of Allie's "purchases" by the time I reach the register. But today, in looking through my Target bags upon returning home, I realized that a bag of Valentine's Hershey's minis got past me. I am sitting here eating a "special dark" right now. Ok, I will come clean..I've eaten 3 of them.

But I'm done now. I swear.




I did go to the gym today, though, so I guess I can't punish myself too much for the candy. Although, I don't want to get into the cycle of going to the gym just to enable myself to eat special darks. I want to go to the gym to get results!

I worked on the treadmill for an hour while watching a pretty incredible documentary called, "Murderball." It is about paraplegics who play rugby. Pretty interesting.

I also took, just for shits and giggles, a weight lifting class called, "Strong Women." This thing is notoriously billed as a class for more senior members of the gym. I figured it would be a waste of time, a cake walk. But nooooooo way! I was exhausted at the end of this thing. The arm work was really awesome!

Ok, enough messing around. I have to drag myself away from you, my faithful readers, in order to watch the Bachelor Paris. yeah, yeah, I do watch it!

Deal with it!!

Walkin' in a Winter Wonderland

As predicted by the meteorologists, Boston awoke to many inches of snow on the ground. Lots more was falling with no end in sight.

Luckily I have Stephen in my life; he keeps me active and motivates me to get outsides on days like today. We took an early morning walk to get a coffee. We didn't just head to one of the many coffee joints very close to his place. Instead, we ventured all the way to Coolidge Corner, several miles from his place. The snow was beautiful and there wasn't a sould out and about. The wind, however, was punishing and I felt as if my face was about to freeze off at any minute. When the wind was calm, the walking was actually pleasant. That was actually the case for most of the walk.

At any rate, here are some pictures of the winter wonderland. I thought it might be nice to post a few shots. The temperatures are supposedly going to be on the rise toward the end of the week, so hopefully some of the snow will melt away.

On a positive note, I have no school tomorrow!

Strange, Pre-Snow Storm Day

We are going to have a massive snow storm tonight here in New England. Boston is going to be hit pretty hard; meteorologists are predicting a foot or more of snow.

As is always the case with these things, people are getting themselves in a complete frenzy to try to batten down the hatches and secure the provisions necessary for what will basically amount to a two-day-lockdown in their homes.

Porter Square, where my gym is located, has one of the most poorly designed parking lots I've ever seen. The spaces are tight, there is barely enough room in the rows between the spaces for regular compact cars to turn and navigate in and out of the lot, and there are no real safe walkways for pedestrians. Recently, as I almost got run down by a motorist in the parking lot, under the watchful gaze of a Cambridge police officer who stood and nodded in disbelief at the aggressive nature of the driver, even the cop said, "In Porter Square parking lot, either on foot or behind the wheel, you're taking your life into your own hands."

Anyway, because this parking lot services a gym, a pharmacy, a huge supermarket, a Dunkin Donuts, a liquor store and a dry cleaner, among other businesses, and because it was a Saturday morning, and because we are expecting a huge storm, you can probably imagine the state of the place this morning.

I took the T to Porter and when I emerged above ground, I decided to walk first to the Dunkins to pick up a coffee. When I walked into the parking lot, something looked odd. I saw a big white van, hatchback fully open, sitting there on the pedestrian walkway in front of one of the businesses in the strip of stores. There was no fanfare surrounding the vehicle. I thought it was one of those radio station vans, parked there to do a promotion. This is commonplace in Porter Square in the summer, but I could not figure out why it would be going on in the winter. It is freezing outside today and I could not imagine some poor radio station intern chump being forced to stand there distributing keychains or free Power Bar samples.

Within seconds of spotting the van, I heard sirenes whaling from all directions, descending quickly upon Porter Square. Then it struck me; this was not a promotional vehicle, this was a van that somebody had driven right up on to the freakin walkway in front of the shops. I moved closer to the scene, hoping that the van had gone through the unoccupied (former video) store that had gone out of business several weeks before.

No such luck.

The van actually went through the window of the store pictured at the top of my blog entry. It took me another second to remember the very newly installed coffee shop/cafe area right at the front of the store. What makes this such a shocking memory is that the main seating area was a counter mounted RIGHT IN THE WINDOW OVERLOOKING THE WALWAY AND PARKING LOT!

Obviously, being a Saturday morning, and given the crowded nature of this coffee shop on weekend mornings, there were bound to be several people sitting in that window. And I am not saying this for dramatic emphasis. When you sit at that counter, as I, myself, have done on several occasions, you are literally seated right in the window, on a stool, facing the parking lot. You can't sit across from somebody, because the window is right in your face. You can only sit beside somebody at the same counter.

As you view the picture above, not that there are two big windows, one on either side of the doorway. The window on your left as you view the picture is the one that the van plowed into.

There were at least 5 ambulances on scene. I saw 4 people pried from the wreckage and brought out of the store on headboard stretchers. I also hear that one woman, while apparently fully conscious and not in any apparent immediate danger of dying (thank god), had two completely mangled legs. She must have been sitting right there.

I was also freaked out because the owners of the shop, in an attempt to create a family atmosphere, had a small round table right there near the counter with books and toys to keep little kids entertained while mom and dad have a coffee or whatever. I did not see any children victims being carried out of the store.

There was literally a sea of emergency response vehicles in the parking lot. There were 10 different kids of fire vehicles..cars, trucks, one ladder, SUV's, etc.

The store as it is shown above no longer looks like you see in the photo. The entire left side (as you look at the picture) is smashed out.

Apparently the woman driving this massive van was in her 70s.

No wonder.

I eventually coaxed myself away from the scene. It seemed a little perverse to me to stand there staring into other peoples' sufferings, so I took myself into the gym.

When I came out just about two hours later, the van was still in the window and it was being extensively photographed by police.

Shockingly enough, no media were on the scene.

After the gym, I went to a supermarket. I have to stock up too!

The people there were out of control. People were ramming their carts into one another. Fights about position in line were busting out at every register. People were breaking bottles all over the floors and making no effort to clean up after themselves.

I swear, tell people in this part of the world that there will snow and the behavior is apocalyptic!

Saturday Night Beer Picture...for my girl, Juanita Sanchez!

How right you are, Juanita. I owe my adoring fans their weekly picture of my weekly beer photo. Usually the pictures come on Friday nights, but this weekend, well, I'll shake things up a bit and keep you anxiously awaiting my beer pic until Saturday.

I picked up some beer last night on my way over to my boyfriend's place. I stopped into Jerry's, this local packie where, although the size of the store would suggest a meager selection, the owner manages to have quite the broad variety of beers in stock. He always has quite a few Eastern European, German, Asian or South American lagers and pilsners. Those are my kinds of beers. Light, Fresh, crisp. I hate those heavy ass microbrews and stouts. That stuff just is not for me.

I flirted with the idea of picking up a Thai beer I hadn't tried before. And there were a few of the Polish beers I've enjoyed in the past, as well. However, after much contemplation, I decided to get a six pack of Paulaner Munich Lager.

Let me go back a little here...

When we were in Munich this summer, we were, of course, overwhelmed by the selection of amazing beers available to us. Among them were Spaten, Hacker-Pschorr (which ended up being my favorite), Paulaner, Augistener (a favorite of many Muncheners, but not all that adored by Stephen and me), Fransizkaner, Haufbrau Haus, and many more.

Prior to going over there this past summer, Spaten probably ranked right up there at #1 German beer for us. And it remained a big favorite throughout our time there. But, here's the thing...

It rained every fucking one of the 15 days we spent in Germany/Austria this summer. And it was absolutely freezing the entire time. We will never do another summer vacation in Germany again. Beautiful country, one of both of our favorites, both of our former homes, but the weather situation is just too risky! We are both massive sun and warm people. The whole freezing rain thing just didn't work out for us.

Anyway, one day, while we were trudging through Munich in the pouring rain, we decided a beer break was in order. It was probably our tenth of the day. We were in Munich, for chrissakes, what do you expect??

We were in the vicinity of the Paulaner Haus, so we decided to stop in there. The atmosphere in this place was perfect for a cold, rainy day. The room was really warm and decorated with solid, light brown wood furniture, and the fireplace was in full throttle. Waitresses with massive boobs served even more massive steins of beer. Instead of the typical American basket of bread, a basket full of warm pretzels and hot mustard was brought to the table. At that point, the Paulaner was like a sweet nectar of the gods. It has been a big favorite of ours ever since.

So, the choice to buy Paulaner was actually pretty easy.

I also had a little craving for some chips and salsa, so I stopped at the convenience store and picked up some lime chips and salsa.

Oddly enough, when I arrived at Stephen's, I discovered that he too had bought Paulaner, lime chips and salsa.

Evidently, great minds think alike.

Oh, and in the event that you see Paulnaer at your local packie, make sure you get the regular Munich lager. No screwing around with the Oktober beer.

The picture shown in this entry is of the outside of the Paulaner tent at Oktoberfest in Munich.

Been there. Drank that!

Why....Just, why?

Today was a typical day in the life. I got up early, went to school, spent more than a healthy dose of time with teenagers, did some planning after school, took the bus to the gym, worked out, went to the supermarket, and took the bus home.

A lot of times, I just sort of go through these motions as a matter of routine, without a lot of spinning of the old cerebral wheels, if you know what I mean!

Today, however, I was in a very contemplative mood, and I got to thinking about some stuff. I am not about to promise you that any of these issues are earth-shattering or life-altering. They are just little things that crossed my mind throughout the course of the day.

So, here are my issues (I'm in a list mood today..)

1. WHY do people who get tongue rings always have to play around with the rings so as to let everybody on the face of the earth know that the piercing is in place? Why does the tongue ring wearer constantly have to stick the tongue out and run the ring over the teeth, making all kinds of god forsaked noise and bruhaha? And this only leads me to the issue of the teeth. Why is it that people who have tongue piercings also have horrific teeth? I mean, Christ. These people invariably have green, fuzzy (yes, I said FUZZY) teeth! Maybe the correlation here is that tongue piercing is decidedly white trash and white trash people are likely not making routine visits to the dentist's office. Could this be the connection? Oh well, I'm at a loss. But I simply have to point out the thing with the constant playing with the tongue ring and the scuzzy teeth ring accoutrement and I have to ask WHY?

2. WHY is it that when I went online to investigate "Time Magazine for Kids" for my class, I could not get a price quoted? They got me to enter in my name, school address and how many copies of the magazine I wanted. I thought that, like with most online retailers, they would tally up the final price and give me a chance to accept or decline the final order before they went ahead and confirmed it. However, after I entered in the information about how many copies I'd like to order, I got a "Thanks for your order!" message, and a promise that my first issue would arrive within 4 weeks. I had to call up Time Magazine and cancel the order. Do you know that this transaction took over 20 minutes, while the customer service agent had to get authorization to cancel the thing. And I'm not joking when I say that I called within minutes of going online.

3. WHY is it that I ordered a self-install high-speed internet kid from Comcast in September, and it just arrived yesterday (February 7), even AFTER a technician came to my house and installed the kit himself when two weeks had passed from the order date. Is that awkwardly worded? Most likely. In other words, I ordered this thing, was promised its arrival within 5 days, and then had to complain when two weeks passed without any sign of the thing. They send a technician to install it (and claimed it would be free, but then billed me for it, forcing me to call and wait on hold for hours to dispute the charge...I won!) but then still send me the self-install kit SEVEN months after the order. Now, they are claiming that it is incumbent upon me to return the equipment to them. They want me to go to their offices and return it, and are threatening to charge me 150 dollars if I do not. Add to the fact that these boobs were billing me for a digital cable box for seven months after I got rid of it, and you can see what I'm dealing with here!!

4. WHY has David Lee Roth been given Howard Stern's former talk show time slot on the radio? I don't listen to the show. I never really listened to Howard, either. I liked Howard, but I don't have the time to listen to this stuff in the morning. Also, even if I did have a radio in my classroom, I could hardly listen to Howard Stern in the presence of my 7th graders. Not that they wouldn't know exactly what he was talking about, mind you. Half of them could be writers for his show. It goes back to that whole "appropriate thing." Anyway, David Lee Roth's mugg is now plastered on the side of every single MBTA bus in the greater Boston area, and frankly, the whole "eyes-follow-you-around-the-room" photograph of a now much older and more washed up looking Roth are disturbing.

5. WHY do I manage to lose every single pair of gloves and every hat I've ever owned? I was so bummed at the beginning of winter to not be able to locate this great black hat I bought last year. It was the perfect hat. I protected it with my life! I was devastated this year and thought that I must have lost it last year. But I could not remember losing it, which seemed strange because I know I would have been bummed. Anyway, I resigned myself to the fact that the hat was MIA. In a strange twist of fate, I was going through some summer items a few weeks ago and there, stashed between some shorts and t-shirts, was my fabulous hat!! I celebrated its recovery and was thrilled to have it back among the living. But fuck me if I didn't lose it on the bus two days after finding it! I'm so bummed out about that! I think that because I walk so much and take so many damn busses, the opportunity to lose stuff is so much greater. Whereas most people would forget to take their gloves from the car, or drop them in the car, if I drop my gloves on the bus, I'm screwed. Anyway, a strange peace about the hat has washed over me. When I thought it was missing but could not remember losing it, I always had that nagging feeling about it being somewhere in my place. Now, however, I know it is gone and I can let it go.

6. WHY is new years synonomous with get fit resolutions? Why is my gym so impossibly crowded at this point in time? Why are there obnoxious sign-up sheets for the cardio equipment and why do the powers that be attempt to limit me to 30 minutes on the cardio machines, even as I pay a whopping 93 dollars a month to belong to this gym? I get around it by signing my name for a 30 minute slot, and then signing a fake name for the next 30 minutes immediately following. I have gotten away with that pretty successfully. Today, my workout time was scheduled to end at 5:15. In all fairness, at 5:15, I still had 1 minute and 9 seconds on my workout clock, so I was overstepping somebody else's time slot. The woman whose time it was appeared in front of my treadmill and was really pissed off with her arms crossed over her chest. (Think of a petulant 3 year-old and you'll have a good mental image of this woman), and she screamed loudly (I head my headphones on), "You know, I am signed up for this treadmill at 5:15." To this I replied "I'm so sorry. My clock is down to 50 seconds." (Time was running out even as she had her temper tantrum, you see." She started going on about how this was "unacceptable" that she was going to "get the manager." I immediately pressed the stop button on the machine. It was not worth arguing, and, no matter how you slice it or dice it, I HAD gone over my time limit. But, as I was stepping down from the treadmill, I did feel the need to point out to the woman that it would have taken her more than the 50 seconds in qustion to find and drag the manager over to the scene of the "crime." Why are Cambridge people like this? Why oh why?

7. Why was a woman out today all bundeled up in the heaviest of winter gear, while her 2 year-old daughter wore only what my mother would call a "skiff" (a flimsy nylon jacket clearly intended for a warm spring day), and not a trace of a hat, mittens, scarf, etc?

8. Why do I live in Boston? Why does anybody live here? Humans are basically tropical animals. The first humans appeared in Equatorial Africa, thus pointing to the fact that this is the climate in which we were intended to live. We do not spout thick layers of wool or hair. We do not have a natural temperature adjustment system. We are cearly not meant to live like this.
Winter sucks!!

9. Why do I have sooooo much work to do to prepare for an absence from school? I wish I had the kind of job that waited for me when I was out sick. But, teaching is not like this. I have to leave a ton of stuff behind when I won't be there and it stinks!

The older the fiddler, the sweeter the tune

This is an old English proverb meant to make us feel better about our fleeting youth. Ah....I don't think its working.

I don't actually think about aging all that often. I have been thinking it over for the past day or two thanks to Lauren, who called me a couple of days ago to tell me that she and John had pretty much made up their collective mind to get a mini-van. She was lamenting her youth, having resigned herself to what she considered to be the "fact" that driving a mini-van = real parenthood = getting older. While I don't necessarily agree with her that driving a mini-van somehow pushes one over the paper thin line between youth and "maturity", I have to respect her perception. If, in her mind, mini-van driving ushers in the dreaded adulthood and demise of youth, then so be it.

This is a very personal thing.

Working with teenagers provides me with an almost constant reminder of the fact that I am getting older.

Just a few examples of the cruel and persistant reminders...



1. Music: When I was a kid, I used to always think adults were such losers for not having any clue as to what was cool and current in music. I promised myself that as I got older, I would always keep my finger on the pulse of new music and never be so close-minded and ignorant about what was new and hip (or, as Paris Hilton would say, "hot."). I have failed miserably in this effort. Actually, I never really even put an effort into it, so I really managed to drop the ball there.

I remember when I was a freshman in college and Bill Clinton was running for President. I loved the guy, so I was going to vote for him not matter what, but I remember being really concerned about Tipper Gore's efforts to place "warning" labels on CDs to let parents know of objectionable lyrical content. I thought Tipper Gore must assuredly be some right wing Republican in disguise. I mean, come on...censorship? What about the first amendment, man?

I have to say, however, that I now recoil at some of the lyrics in songs I hear the kids listening to. Sex acts, violent escapades and episodes of binge drinking and drugging are described in explicit detail and the kids sing right along. And they're not singing the lyrics with an empty, confused look on their faces; they understand this crap!

I am still a major proponant of the first amendment, and I would never favor government censorship of a music group, but I feel like I want to ask Eminem and Kanye West and who ever the hell else these people are if they would not mind just being "nice young men and women" and leaving the cursing out of their lyrics. I remember my teachers telling me that a person who swears might as well just announce to the world that he/she is not bright enough to think of an alternative way to express him/herself. I thought they were total dorks, but now I can see their point.

That total overrated nobody, Jamie Foxx, was on Oprah a few weeks ago. I watched the show, in spite of the fact that I HATE when Oprah has celebs. on her show. I was at the gym and I didn't have my iPod with me, so I had little choice. Anyway, Foxx starts singing some cheesy ass song about how his daughter is some heaven-sent angel or some crap. Whatever. Although the song made me want to vomit, there was nothing offensive about it. Later, however, Foxx "treated" us to anoter of his new songs, but this time he started boasting about his sexual abilities and the fact that he would never lower himself to missionary position during a bout of lovemaking.

Did I really need to know this? Is this supposed to get me all hot and bothered? Well, the bothered part was definitely achieved, but the hot part..well, if I had not been sweating up a storm because of a hard session of cardio on the treadmill, the hot element would have fallen seriously short.

2. In a continuation of this theme, I can't believe the crap kids are watching on TV. They can't do their homework, but they can stay up and watch Law and Order SVU, and these shows about crime scene investigation. They all watch the HBO show "OZ" and then report to school the next day to advise me of the most essential elements of prison survival tactics. Do I look like I need to know that if I "snitch" my fellow inmates will slice my face open from my mouth to my ear, leaving me with a telltale scar that will forever identify me as a "snitch?"

I want to tell the kids to go do their civics homework, that those skills are going to be more important in their adulthood than prison survival tactics. But then I consider whom I'm talking with and I can't be so sure that this is sound advice. Maybe some of these kids need some "streed cred" advice before their inevitable stints in the clink. Far be it from me to detain them from learning the skills that will really help them get ahead in life.

Back to my point..I am obviously getting old. I'm regularly expressing shock about those "inappropriate" shows and songs.

3. When my students slip up and call me "Mom," I just answer. I used to be horrified by the thought of a teenager mistaking me with somebody old enough to be their mother. Now, however, I don't even blink an eye when they call me "Mom." I just answer. Clearly a sign of aging.

4. I wear my big bulky fleece vest in my freezing cold school. No vanity. No worries that I look to be the size of the side of a barn when I have this thing on. I don't care that is is purple and matches almost none of the clothing I own. I think part of getting older is not caring what the hell you look like. That is going on here for sure!

5. In preparing to leave my apartment this morning, I realized that the patch of floor underneath my plant stands was really dusty and needed a sweeping. I was so bugged by it that I almost went and got the broom to sweep the area right then and there. But I had to refrain from doing so because that would have required my moving all the plants, and the plant stands and running later than I already was. So, I ignored the problem and walked out the door. I swear to you, I thought all day long about getting my hands on that damn broom. I thought about it all day in school, all through my workout at the gym, and all the way home. When I finally did get home, I got right on the broom before even removing my jacket. Also, I was desperate to use the bathroom, but I still swept before even going to the can.

This has to be a sign of old age. What carefree young thing would even let herself be slightly bothered by a little dust on the floor? A carefree young thing would be thinking about making plans to see friends after the gym. This old hag was dreaming about sweeping, taking a hot shower, putting my washed dishes away, getting into my pajamas, watching some boob tube and getting some sleep!

6. I went into the Whole Foods shop a few days ago to hit the salad bar because I was craving, get this...Brussels Sprouts. If that isn't about the furthest thing removed from being young, what the hell is? Brussels sprouts???? An extra trip the store to get Brussels sprouts???? OK, I'm definitely going to get some brochures to geriatric assisted living facilities tomorrow.

7. I watch PBS and listen to NPR fanatically. When I was young, I used to think people who listened to public radio and watched public TV were total dorks. And yet, here I am, regularly checking out the PBS program schedule and listening to NPR every night when I go to bed. I also often download NPR shows to listen to while I'm working on my computer. Now being no excpetion!

I guess what I'm really getting at here is that I ain't getting any younger. Although I like my career, teaching does bring with it that inevitable drawback that my own aging process is painfully evident. Every September, things start over. The kids keep coming, but they are always 13. I am always one more year further away from 13. When I first started teaching, I was 8 years older than these 13 year-olds. Now, I am 18 years older than them.

The one thing that is positive about my age is that is allows me to pull rank. When I was in my 20s, the kids thought of that as young. There is something magical about the 30's, though. Kids think of people in their 30s as being "old." When the kids act like total jerks and start mouthing off to me, I launch into this approximate conversation with them..

Me: Is this how you speak to your friends?

Kid: (defensively) Yeah!

Me: How old are you?

Kid: 13!

Me: Yeah, well, I'm 32 and the last thing I need in my life is a 13 year-old friend, so if that's how you speak to your friends, realize very quickly that I'm not your friend and speak to me like I'm a teacher!"

For some reason, this really shuts them up and usually I never have to have that conversation with that particular offender again!

A woman at the gym the other night told me, "Wow! You look wicked young for 32!" She was in her early 20s. I asked her, "I thought 32 WAS wicked young." She just kind of looked at me, head cocked to one side in an expression of bemusement. Then, realizing what was going on, she said, "Oh yeah. Sure. Yeah, 32 is really young."

Then she bounded off on her not-sore knees. I'm sure she was feeling like her good deed for the day was done in stroking the ego of her elder.

(I just realized my spell check isn't working. Sorry!)

The Little Things

I decided to be an assistant in adult ESL classes in my school district. I could have been a lead teacher, but that would require a lot of prep time and lesson planning, so I decided that being an assistant was the way to go. Sure, if I were a lead teacher, I would be paid, and as an assistant, I am not paid. However, as an assistant, I can receive in-school credits, and these can ultimately lead to my getting into a higher pay lane in my job.

So, once I figured out that being an assistand meant no lesson planning and extra credits, I decided to go for it.

I received an email yesterday, telling me that my class would meet tonight from 5:00-7:00. The class meets in the school that is located literally across the street from mine, so I can't beat the convenience. I was a little bummed out at the thought of such a long day, but if you read my recent work related blog, you'll understand that I more than have my work cut out for me. So, I decided to hang out in school until 5 and then head ove to the ESL class.

The classes are being offered for free to parents of our students. These are folks who would probably love to come to parent teacher conferences, but who can't because they are not able to speak English. I give them a lot of credit for wanting to learn English and for taking the time to come to evening classes.

I reported for duty at 5 as scheduled. I had envisioned "assisting" as being the idiot to run up to the photocopy machine or handle the coffee runs, but this was not what my lead teacher had in mind. She asked me, as soon as I entered the room, if I would be willing to split the group in half and take a small group of my own for instruction. Being a language person (BA and MA in French, and a German speaker), I know that small-group instruction works best. So, although I was not ready to take a small branch of students at that particular second, I went along with it.

I had five women in my group, four Brazilians and one Salvadorian. These women were lovely. I really enjoyed meeting them and felt really privileged to be involved with their lives. I know it sounds corny, but there you have it. At first, they were really timid and quiet. There was one woman, Helia from Brazil, who obviously felt very proud of herself for being somewhat more advanced than the complete and total beginners in our small group. I saw a lot of myself in her because I used to feel really good about myself for being slightly more advanced than my colleagues in my German classes when I lived in Germany. I always really enjoyed that feeling of being just that far ahead and being able to understand the teacher and help my classmates.

I know, I know...class nerd!

Katja from Brazil was extremely shy and timid and didn't want to say anything at first. Then Helia told me that Katja lived in the apartment above her and I somehow managed to convey a teasing to her about having loud parties all night and keeping Helia awake. Once Katja realized what I was talking about, she loosened up and started to have fun. Brazilian women are, in general, extremely personable with a great sense of humor. I just had to find a way to get Katja laughing. Then she was eating out of the palm of my hand.

Selma, also from Brazil, was adorable. She was so focused and precise. You could tell she was probably an excellent student in Brazil.

Poor Selina from El Salvador was completely lost. I think she might even be illiterate in Spanish because even though we have the same alphabet as the Spanish language, she was completely unable to sound out even the simplest of words. This would not be surprising; El Salvador is a really poor country where lots of people lack even elementary education. I felt badly for Selina because the other women were trying to help her along and didn't seem to be able to figure out why she was having such a hard time. Selina's 7 year-old daughter was there in the class, and she was helping her mom figure stuff out. It was very cute and sweet and sad and nice at the same time.

I really enjoyed working with these woman and look forward to seeing them again next week. Helia begged me to come for the Wednesday lessons. "We like you very much," she said. I would like, in theory, to go and be with them again on Wednesdays, but I think I will only do Mondays. I have to be able to have some time to myself and get to the gym in the evenings, etc.

It was just a really nice experience to work with people who actually want to learn and who appreciate what I am doing with them.

I also really appreciate what they are doing to be there. There was a little worksheet about morning and evening routines. I asked Selma if she takes a shower in the morning. I, of course, expected the answer to be "yes I do." But, of course, she painstakingly told me that she works very early mornings in Dunkin Donuts and is home at a strange time and she has to take a shower in the evening. When she told me she worked at DD's, a couple of the other women told me that they worked in McDonalds or Burger King and as maids and cleaning ladies.

I really respect these women, the sacrifices they've made to be here, and the shitty jobs they are happy to get up and perform day after day in order to have a better life for themselves and their kids.

They rule!!