Kirk Cameron does not want you to burn in Hell

and neither do I!

So check out his site and, like me, by sure to check off "Christian" and then "Nonchristian" to hedge your bets. Just be sure that the non-Christian Communists aren't getting better Hell-avoidance advice than someone who endured 7 years of CCD.

Thanks Mom! After all of that, I am going to Hell anyway. Well, I would be if it wasn't for Kirk and The Master. You guys Rock!

This kills me!

Are they for real? I don't now whether to laugh or cry. OK, I am laughing.

Courtesy of Tale of Two Cities:

You'll be smiling just like the dude in that ad when you blow the legs off some towelhead while rocking out to the Polyphonic Spree. Or maybe you'll be grooving to the white-hot, up-and-coming sounds of TV on the Radio as you attach electrical wiring to a POW's genitals. U-S-A! U-S-A!

I am not going to lie to you. I have been second guessing my decision to blow off the Foreign Service Exam because I do feel strongly about furthering US diplomatic efforts (the current administration does not engage in any such endeavor but the next one will) and want to do my part to garner support for the United States..

When I see something like this , I think, "What is the point?" It isn't enough to imprison these "soldiers" without the due process a prisoner of war is entitled to but to flaunt the Geneva Convention at every turn and get away with it makes me sick.

This quote offers one explanation for the actions of the US soldiers: At the same time, the fact that US soldiers are employing methods similar to those used by the Nazis in World War II is indicative of a deep-seated state of demoralization and degradation that the occupation has bred within the US military. Finding themselves in a hostile environment with the vast majority of Iraqis opposing the occupation, many American soldiers have come to see the country’s entire population as the enemy.

I want to see all of the pictures of the US soldiers engaged in these activities splashed across the internet for all to see. If your idea of a good time is to force naked men perform sex acts on each other (I am SURE that they were forced to give US soldiers blow jobs because, why stop there?) and dance around for you, your wife, kids and neighbors need to know about it. Sick pigs.

C'est Amusee

MoreBush v. Kerry commentary courtesy of Howard Stern.

The Red Flags Of An Online Relationship

Manhattan Transfer offers an alternative guide to on-line dating that will put Match.com out of business. Not a moment too soon, if you ask me.

My chemicals are better than your chemicals

One of the perks of this place is the unlimited supply of free beverages the company springs for. Unfortunately, we only have a dorm-size refrigerator which has to accommodate not only the beverages but everyone's lunches and a seemingly excessive amount of yogurt (there can't be a yeast infection in the place with all of the Dannon's consumed around here).

Number one beverage of choice? Tie between Diet Coke and Poland Springs carbonated water. So, even though we have about 6 varieties of drinks, those usually are put in the fridge by the staff so that they are nice and chilled when one is ready to partake. Lately, there has been a disturbing trend: two six packs of Sierra Mist a day is put in the fridge in place of Diet Coke. WTF? That crap is like Type 2 Diabetes in a can and it is taking up valuable Diet Coke space.

I just might take some action. We only have a few heavy people in the office and therefore a limited number of suspects. All of these people (like most around here) are cool and I don't want to hurt anyone's feeling by putting an article about obesity and sugary drinks up near the fridge (which would be my first course of action if dealing with a bunch of jerks).

Maybe I should just lay off the Diet Coke altogether. I am afraid that being a vegetarian who doesn't drink diet soda will put me that much closer to that bunch of freaks that lead chemical-free lives. I secretly admire those people but they are without exception the biggest pains in the ass. Ask any flight attendant.

Speaking of obesity, one of the chemists I met last night told me that they ate at the Outback Steakhouse in Iraq all the time. I thought that she was having me on but she went on the say that obesity was becoming an issue over there right before we invaded due to the availability of "western food". Another perk of this invasion is that we can majorly accelerate the growth (ha!) of obesity in Iraq and then they'll have both Democracy and the requisite health epidemics that go hand in hand with "westernization". Now if we can just get them some Sierra Mist, they'd really experience what Freedom is all about.

I knew it was going to be a good day when...

I hit the Turnpike this morning and "Sweet Child O' Mine" by Guns & Roses came on the radio. I don't care who you are, that is one of the best driving tunes of all time and I just hit the accelerator when I hear it because it demands to be listened to at high speeds.

Loved the opera last night and actually ran into a colleague of mine. Turns out she is an accomplished classical organist in addition to being an international paralegal. Of course, she was right down in the "Dress Circle" while I sat up in "Steerage" but I got props from her for being an opera fan. She sees me in a whole new light now and stopped by my office this morning to ask me which of the two sopranos I thought was the "lead" soprano. I gave her my uninformed analysis and didn't have the heart to tell her that I only went because I met some hot guy on the street who was in the chorus.

On the cab ride home, my phone rang. Well, I didn't think it was my phone at first and ignored it until my friend said, "Isn't that your phone?" The ring was not my usual ring but when I took it out of my bag, sure enough, it was ringing. A LONG time ago I assigned a special ring tone to a friend of mine that I thought might turn out to be more than a friend someday. Well, he didn't and I haven't heard from him in so long that I didn't even recognize my own phone.

It brought back memories from last summer when I heard from him all the time and knew it was him before I even dug my phone out of my briefcase. Anyway, I answered it and kept it short but it got me to thinking about this summer. What if I don't meet anyone to share the good times with: Sailing, eating on outdoor patios on Boylston Street, etc? My phone has a lot of ring tones just waiting to be assigned to some cool guy. It's a sad commentary that I had so many dates this winter and didn't seen fit to give one guy his own tone.

Oh, I met a couple of 24 year olds last night who just got back from Iraq. A guy and his fiancee (got engaged three weeks ago) who are with the Air Force and are both, get this: bio-nuclear chemists. They were super nice and she was going on and on about how she wants to be an international lawyer and further the diplomatic efforts of the United States. She was so full of optimism and energy that when I told her how I blew off the Foreign Service exam, I felt like a slug. Maybe I'll take it next Fall. Who the hell knows? Maybe I'll pass it.

I am just loving this quote

If you want to play the part of John Wayne, it is not enough just to walk with a swagger; you need to make sure that your gun is loaded and that you have sized up your opponent correctly.

Time to earn my paycheck

Today's agenda includes a few back-to-back meetings, one conference call and then a flat-out grind to finish drafting a document that has sat in my "denial pile" far too long.


A few random thoughts on the past few days
I had lunch at TJX (you know, TJMaxx, Homegoods and other stores my mom refuses to shop in because she hates crowds and having to "dig around for things") with my pal who works there. We ate in the caf and I noticed a few things. First, the majority of people I saw were women in their 20's and 30's and boy, were they serious. I mean, they were all thin and kind of stern. As if they had a lot on their minds; hustling through the salad bar, taking their lunch to go and then power walking back to their desks to get back to the serious business of retail. Geez, does coming up with slogans like, "Don't you just love a bargain?" (or is that the Christmastree Shop?) require this kind of gravamen?

Most of the jobs I have had as a lawyer have dealt with other people's lives; whether or not one went to jail or one was compensated for some wrong that had been done to them. If I approached each day as if I were playing chess with Death, I never would've made it. I got a kick out of that show "The Practice" (with the old cast) because I don't think a show went by when some attorney didn't bang his/her fist on a desk/table/wall and say something like: "Because that isn't Justice dammit!". I have never seen anyone act like that. If anything, it is more important to take a Derek Jeter-like stance where things could be going to hell-in-a-handbasket but one has the same facial expression and demeanor: winning or losing. Never let 'em see you sweat. Losing it in front of a client or your boss doesn't exactly engender confidence in one's ability to get the job done.

So today I am just going to stress out behind closed doors and long for tomorrow when I can once again make some personal calls and read the on-line newspapers. Till then.

Post script: Another rain out at Fenway last night. On my way back from the gym I was jostled by the throngs of disppointed and wet fans, making their way back to their $30 parking spaces. It's too bad. I love having the game on TV and my windows open so that, as I putter around the apartment, I can hear the crowd cheer which is my cue to run to the TV to see what happened. Better luck tonight guys.

Cosi Fan Tutti - and so am I

So I have big plans tomorrow night to see my first opera ever. I still regret skipping the Jerry Springer Opera when I was over in London a few weeks ago. At the time I thought: Why in God's name would I pay $85 to see Jerry Springer as an opera when I couldn't stand the TV version for more than 30 seconds? Well, as it turned out, my friends who DID shell out (while I was trapped for 2 hours with the biggest whiner on the trip who, unfortunately, also declined to attend the opera) the cash loved it and quoted from it the rest of the trip. Apparently it is so offensive (but hysterical) and off-color that it will never make it to Boston which of course makes me want to see it even more as you know I can't stand the government telling me what is "offensive".

But I digress. Last Friday I was walking down the street to the Fung Wah for NYC when I heard some man say, "Miss? Miss". I turned and he WAS talking to me and immediately got points for not saying "Ma'am". I thought that maybe I had dropped something but, no, he held out his hand, introduced himself and said: "I see you working out at the gym." My first thought was: "I work out! I work out enough for someone to actually see me often enough to recognize me on the street in makeup and street clothes. Yeah Me!".

Anywho, turns out he was on his way to practice for the Boston Lyric Opera as he is in the chorus for the Mozart opera which opens tomorrow night. I told him I would go see him and that is how it happens that I could potentially be an opera-aficionado. If so, the first thing I am going to do is buy a pair of those super-cool lunettes in order to get a better view of the teleprompter which has the English translation of the opera. As some may recall from my trip to Rome last year, my Italian is shaky and my attempts to speak and understand it led to a series of events that I cannot get into because someone may know who I am and who the hell needs that aggravation?

Thanks Maccers

for blogging about this and getting me all riled up.

This fucker is a woman-hater with a tiny dick. How can I tell this? Well, I don't have a degree is psychology but you be the judge. Here is an exceprt from his "movie review" in which he reveals that his own mother hated him too.

Women, on the other hand, wake up to something awful by the age of 30. In 13 Going On 30, the heroine cups her great perky breasts and boasts about her "incredible boobs." For 99 percent of over-30 women in America, boobs are not perky and "incredible"; they're a source of saggy shame, a disfigurement requiring corrective surgery. Their asses have widened into a ripple of elephant flesh, midriffs spilling over low-cut jeans, pelvic bones cracked and stretched.
The American woman is told to be beautiful and thin, yet to pay no mind to conventional concepts of "beauty." She's on Paxil, Xanax, slathering creams over every square inch of her hide just to arrest the decay, desperately bouncing from diet to diet, trying to remain bouncy as she trades her expectations ever-downward for the kind of career she expected to attain through sheer hard work, and the kind of man she would wind up with.
By the age of 30, woman is a horrible mess, a victim tossed overboard by God and life. That's if she's lucky. She could be married and have squatted out a kid or two

Oh, and I also suspect that he lives in a little hovel (he also hates career girls because we have better apartments than he does even after upteen years slaving away as a press journalist), surrounded by empty pizza boxes, newspapers and magazines. Just a guess.

3-2

Yankee Stadium, Red Sox/Yankees, 68 degrees, not a cloud in the sky, 12 innings, five drunk Yankees fans, in my section alone, ejected by the cops and the Sox win. Not only a great day to be a Sox fan, it was a great day to be an American.

Had an amazing time in the Big Apple. I stayed at a friends on the Upper West Side and it is a whole new world compared to the Upper East Side. We closed P.J. Carney's on Friday and I'd like to give a big shout out to George from Queens. Not only did he buy all of my drinks, he provided me with a New York moment that, to date, I had yet to experience. When he introduced himself, he said completely straight-faced: "How YOU doin?" For real.

So, after the Yankee game, it was off to Pablos for dinner and the we walked 28 blocks down to Murphy's at 52nd. Good time had by all and then I went to the Met, solo, on Sunday. Now I am back at the office and very much looking forward to my appointment at Vidal on Wednesday. Some highlights and a trim and I'll be good to go! I didn't even think about how much I hate George Bush once this weekend. Just need to keep the positive karma flowing and it's all good.

Hey Yankees

Perhaps you should worry less about men's fashion and more about winning the game.

I have a 7 p.m. date with the Fung Wah tonight and a ticket to tomorrow's game at Yankee Stadium. GO SOX!

8 Days a Week

I'd blog about what a good time I had last night at the Cactus Club and Sonsie but my head hurts when I think about how much I had to drink. What is with me this week? It is like that old TGI Fridays commercial where every day of the week is "Friday!"
Tuesday night was the best though. One of my neighbors was burglarized (broad daylight, she took her dog for a 40 minute walk and came back to find the apartment ransacked) so a bunch of us went over to the Victim's place to console her and get really drunk. Turns out I have the coolest neighbors; some of whom I didn't even know before this happened. Everyone brought bottles of wine and we'd run back to our condos once in a while to get more wine, food or cigarettes, whatever we had just run out of. At first, she was scared to be alone and wanted everyone to stick around and then at like, 12:30 she finally just yelled, "Everybody get out!".

Tonight's agenda includes the gym and then the John Kerry fundraiser at Fire & Ice. Teresa Heinz's son Chris is guest bartender and I am curious to see what he looks like and if he is married. Mark Walberg's lesser-known brother Robert is also bartending so I'll be getting a lot of drinks tonight as well. (Do not get drunk, do not get drunk...)

I just checked the blog stats and the last search terms on Google that flagged this site were: "topless calendar" vote politics. ???

A Must-read for the Young Iraqi On-The-Go

Now the citizens of the newly freed Iraq can log on to keep abreast of both the mission and the latest developments of their latest occupiers. This is a big change from those backwards conquerers of Mesopotamia who never had the good graces to let the People know what their long term plan was exactly.

Now, as soon as they get the electricity up and running, the accurate, informative press releases of the CPA will be just a few clicks away! Oh, to be there and enjoy the Freedom! Lucky ducks...

"Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road..."

A weight has been lifted off of my sculpted shoulders. I just decided not to take the Foreign Service exam on Saturday. The complex reality of the situation is that I do not give a shit about being part of the US diplomatic effort because as far as I can see, all that gets you is kidnapped, lit on fire and sent home in a bag. Perhaps the world will someday again view us as an ally and appreciate US efforts to do business in their god-forsaken country or offer humanitarian aid to their helpless underclass. At the moment, we are viewed with suspicion and hostility. Hell, I can get a job right here in Boston as a member of the Turnpike Authority if I want that kind of work environment. The potential for physical harm may only be slightly less but I’d be making an exorbitant salary at the expense of the suckers who have to pay to drive on it everyday so who cares?

Other factors contributing to my decision are: the salary range for State Department Foreign Service jobs caps out at only $80,000 (if my private sector pay is any indication of where I’d fall on this scale, I wouldn’t see $80,000 for 16 years), I like making a lot of money and my friend called to say she has a ticket for me to see the Red Sox / Yankees game at Yankee Stadium this Saturday. GO SOX!!!!!!!!!!

Another beautiful day in the Hub- in so many ways

I just made plans to meet some former colleagues for a drink and I am already dreading the first bit of business that will need to be dispensed with. During my time at that particular company, I got fat. I am only 5’3” and I gained about 30 pounds which is like, a toddler. Since leaving that god-awful place, I have lost all of the weight and actually can wear clothes I have had since law school.

What I hate about this is: a few of these people only know me as a fat person so they’ll think this is some major change and how-did-I-do-it. That period is just something I want to put behind me and having to meet with people from the past just drags it all up. It’s funny because I never saw a fat person when I looked in the mirror. All of my life, I had been, well, almost small and, in my head, I was still that person. But boy was I treated differently. I could go on and on about how rude store clerks were, how I think I was perceived by my employer after losing my looks to fat but the point is: it’s over.

Except that I will have to talk about it for a few minutes before I can relax and enjoy being out with some cool people. Of course, I am going to starve myself the day before we meet so that I am at my fighting weight. Hey, I never claimed to not be obsessed with my eating habits. Not disorder, habits.

Is this what it is going to take?

Join us for the first New Hampshire canvass of 2004 on Saturday, April 24th. An army of Kerry volunteers from Massachusetts will join volunteers from New Hampshire to take John Kerry's message to people's doorsteps. Car pools will be leaving from our Kerry Boston HQ (60 Canal Street) at 9:00 AM. We'll be meeting our fellow New Hampshire canvassers at 10:30 AM at Manchester City Democrats HQ (87 Hanover Street, 2nd Floor, Manchester).

Coffee, donuts and lunch will be provided. To sign up, please click here:

http://www.johnkerry.com/events/042404_manchester_form.php

God, I want Kerry to win but do I really have to go door-to-door to help make this happen? I always felt badly for those Jehovah's Witness kids whose parents had them knock on people's doors. NOBODY wants to bothered when they are home sitting around and getting fat. Thankfully, I have to take the Foreign Service Exam this Saturday so I have an excuse. However, I encourage anyone who can make it to help out. Free coffee and donuts! Law enforcement's "meal" of choice is not just for cops anymore!

As an aside, a lot of the marathoners being interviewed this morning had on "Kerry for President" stickers. When the commentator said to one, "You're Canadian so why do you care if Kerry wins?" and the guy responded, "Bush doesn't like us." I loved it. I did not see one "Bush/Cheney" sticker but although watching TV for 9 minutes is hardly a scientific sampling of 22,000 runners, it gave me a great idea for a commercial. How about showing lithe marathon runners "running for Kerry" and then flash over to some obese people having a "BBQ for Bush" party? Ha! Then the GOP will fire back by saying that anyone who doesn't BBQ is unpatriotic and the French don't BBQ and Kerry speaks French so who do you want as the Leader of the Free World? It'll be great!

This makes it a little easier to get through the day

I like my new job but having to work on Marathon Monday is definitely one of the drawbacks. I worked at a firm downtown for years and we always had the day off because it is, uh, Patriots Day, I think. Not sure what the official name of the "holiday" is but to me it had always meant the start of summer. In past years, I'd sleep late, meet friends for brunch near the finish line then stake out a good outdoor table (Vox Populi is the old standby) to eat, drink heavily and watch the runners (on TV of course because you can't see a thing because of the crowd) and then go home around 7 o'clock with that weird, "hammered-yet-the-sun-is-still-shining-can-I-go-to-bed-yet" thing going on.

I have been torturing myself with thought of sailing on the Charles right now but the fact that no one is else is makes me feel better. There are 15 mph winds right now out there so, screw that!

Say It Ain't So Kevin

I just came across this item about poor Kevin Spacey being beaten and mugged in London.

Kevin Spacey's arrogant and condescending demeanor is his hallmark and I just can't reconcile it with a beating victim. Anyway, what is with this story? Walking his dog at 4:40 a.m. in South London? This just screams "hate crime" but, for obvious reasons, he can't tell the truth about what happened. It's too bad. I like the guy.

This "just walking through the park" story reminds of the guy who was, sadly, killed while crossing against the light near Boston Common at 2:45 a.m When his family was asked why he was in the park (he lived outside of the city) at that time, they explained that he loved the beauty of the gardens and often went there to reflect and find peace, or some such bullshit. The guy had never held a job, lived with his sister's family and was here illegally. Something tells me he often "cleared his head" by mugging drunks leaving the clubs but, hey, what do I know...

An open letter to the Hot Guy at Tequila Rain

Maybe you were trying to get my attention last night by staring at me (trying to catch my eye?), breaking off from your friends to stand behind us and then, when the opportunity presented itself, actually taking the bar stool next to mine five minutes before I stood up and left the bar.

I saw all of this but deliberately avoided making eye contact. You see, I did think that you were attractive but the time to engage me in conversation was when I tried to strike one up with you while standing behind you in line, alone, for 6 minutes. I know that you were with your friends but I didn’t see any reason why we couldn’t have chatted then.

It is possible that I missed a chance to meet a cool guy by deliberately ignoring you but I just wasn’t going to risk another brush off. Perhaps you were just trying to get a better view of the TV screen (although the screens are pretty large there) but I got the feeling that you wanted to talk. Some other time then; I’ll keep an eye out for you.

Better her than me

Just in case you thought you were having a bad day: check this out. Yes, she brought in on herself but this is so, ewwwww and embarrassing, I feel for her.

[Note to Emily: today could be worse. At least you didn't puke on yourself at the office. Feel better?]

Damn Yankees!

I missed this during my commute home last night. Probably due to the fact that I left the office at 4 in order to beat the Red Sox traffic and the article says the banner was displayed during "rush hour".

So, I missed The Apprentice finale (which I very much wanted to catch) in favor of going to Tequila Rain on Ipswich to watch the Sox game and keep tabs on the Bruins. For anyone who hasn't watched a home game from Tequila Rain: I recommend it if you have the means. Sitting at the bar, watch the game on the big screen and actually hearing the crowd at the park which is right across the street is the closet one can get to being at the game without a ticket.

Tricia was so funny; after a few vodka cranberries, she insisted that we head over the to Baseball Tavern where all of the Fenway workers go after the 7th inning. She wanted to hit them up for a job at the beer counter because, "it's easy money and you get to go to all of the games!". She has an MBA in Finance and works for a Fortune 500 company but is dying to get a job wearing one of those ugly Aramark uniforms (and she went to Parson's undergrad!).

The story behind the story, as we discovered, is that one has to start off at the bottom (hawking Cracker Jacks in the stands) at Fenway to get to the top (beer stand). One guy said some of the girls in the beer stands were there for 15 years before they got the plum assignment. Tricia was not the least bit daunted by this and says she is going over to the Park tonight to talk to some woman, "Anne", about getting her Fenway career started. I am curious to know how that plan will hold up in the light of day, sans alcohol.

Because I am a little fuzzy today, I am going to have to keep it clean and lay low tonight. I have plans to meet up with C (who, yes, I met on-line after I swore off of on-line dating) and I am going to suggest that, after dinner, we just walk around Kenmore / Brookline Avenue and take in the sights. Walking around the neighborhood during a Red Sox/Yankees game, checking out the crowds, listening to the game and feeling that buzz, is the coolest thing to do and it doesn't cost a cent.

Local Woman Not "Heavy Social Drinker" As Previously Reported

At first, I cringed when I saw that I had brain damage. "If I really am wasting away on a neuro-molecular level, how is that I look and feel so good?", I asked myself.

Well, let me tell you how relieved I was to see that a "heavy social drinker" consumes an excess of 100 drinks a month. The result of some quick calculations (see, how brain-damaged can I be?) revealed that I drink an average of only 48 drinks in a given four week period (12 drinks a week x's 4). Of course, for the most accurate "average" result, I left out the anomalies like my vacation week, the Superbowl, and the entire time frame between Thanksgiving and New Years Day. If you think this is evidence of flawed reasoning and proof of brain damage, I refer you to this scientific article on Yahoo which proves beyond a doubt that only my liver and heart have been damaged by my social life.

I am a bad person

And I know this because I am completely annoyed right now. Let me back up: one of the admins here has brought in her new bundle of joy for the office to admire. The bundle's two year old brother is here too.

A few years ago, I had no use for kids whatsoever and, when things like this happened, I would venture out of my office, feign interest in the kid, move my mouth muscles to make it seem as if I was smiling and then slink away as soon as I could when I thought no one was looking.

But all of that has changed. Now, I sometimes think: "Hey! That baby's cute." and I do not feel the least bit fake when I tell the Mom/Dad what a great baby it is. Sometimes, I can even muster up some enthusiasm and inquire about the baby's sleeping habits, etc. I am sincerely interested in the answers. Some of this newfound tolerance can be explained by the fact that some of my friends have had babies and I really love my friends so by extension, I love their kids. I think that is it anyway.

Today though, is another story. I was just on speakerphone with my door open and, as I have tuned out the ruckus the visitors are causing, it wasn't until the person on the phone said: "Is that a baby?" that I closed it. I felt badly closing it and did so softly so I am not THAT awful. It is just that, in addition to the disruption, I feel a little manipulated and obligated to go out there and look at this baby and say a few things about it. I just don't give a shit at the moment and am busy trying to figure out how I can get to the water cooler without having to pass the baby-fest....I'm parched.

More Press Conference Post Mortem

Maccers blogged about this on-live live chat with the Washington Post's Robert Kaiser (yes, she's sassy, drinks like a sailor and reads on-line live political discussions!). Here is a little clip that I found interesting but the whole thing should be read start to finish. I like this guy.

New York, N.Y.: From my own observations, and from reporting I have heard, it seems that the Bush administration is one of the most evasive and tight-lipped administrations when it comes to their relationship with the press.
In your experience, do you feel that the Bush administration provides less information to and less opportunity for the press to interact and question his administration? Do they essentially shut down the press more than previous administrations?
Robert G. Kaiser : This is the most closed, most secretive administration I have seen as a Post reporter, and I have been one since JFK was in the White House.

Who Needs the First Amendment?

This is a valid question when one considers the appalling lack of journalistic acumen of the White House Press Corps. I had a lot to say on this issue but I'd just be paraphrasing the New York Press so, here is the post-mortem.

It is ironic that, just days ago Justice Scalia apologized for agents taking the tapes of two journalists who recorded his speech at public appearance and now, with this scripted "press conference" we are treated to a national display of journalistic capitulation. The press is just throwing away all of those hard fought battles that make for diffcult questions on the bar exam.

Asking about how his "faith is guiding him"? WTF??! I could go on but I, like the rest of the nation, need to move on and heal.

I hope that the Sox are rained out again tonight

Does that make me a bad person? I have real legitimate, selfish reasons for this anti_American statement. Game traffic would just force me to sit in my car longer than I usually do and the last thing I need at this point is to be alone with my thoughts.

I am not sure if it is the weather (non-stop drizzle), my $463.00 car repair bill, my recent weight gain (4 lbs) or the fact that I miss my vacation but I am in a little bit of a funk today. Today I am wearing a black turtleneck with my wool pantsuit. When in God's name is it going to be spring here? Ok, Ok. It is 59 degrees but it is raining. So the temperature doesn't count.

All of this whining has made me feel slightly better. Tomorrow is another day - even though the weather tomorrow will be suspiciously similar to today's, I can guarantee that I will not get another car repair bill after work. No Siree!

Fellow Blogspotter-in-Arms

If you're interested in an unfiltered account of life in Iraq at the moment, this dentist's blog is a good read. Not exactly a thigh-slapper but I thought I'd pass it on.
Now if we could just find an annonymous WhiteHouse blogger so we'd know what the hell is really going on behind the scenes there. Wonkette seems to have her own theories about the true nature of Bush's anti-swish stance. NB: This one IS a thigh slapper.

A Little Levity for the Apocalypse

I am loving this little vignette. But if you don't have sound on your computer, you can skip it because it won't make "le sense".

Brake Job - Part Deux

It should've been easy.
My rear brakes have been making a horrible screeching sound whether I am hitting them or not. I knew it was bad when I could hear the god-awful grinding metal sounds even when the radio was on and windows were up.

I let it go for a while but the kicker came when I was navigating my car through throngs of Fenway fans on their way to the ball park Saturday and EVERYONE was looking at my car to see where the cacophony of sound was coming from. I just stared straight ahead and looked at the Jetta in front of me like: "Why doesn't this guy get his brakes fixed? That could be dangerous!".

Every morning I drive by a Getty Station on Route 30 whose sign reads: Brakes $79.99 - Specializing in Foreign Cars. Yesterday, I finally pulled in to talk to about getting an appointment to get rid of whatever was making my car an embarrassment. I should've suspected something was amiss when the guy said he could do it that day. In retrospect, it is like calling a hairdresser who says you can come by anytime without an appointment. Not good.

Anyway, as the guy is driving me to work, I show him the paperwork from the last time the dealer checked the brake wear and said that the front brakes were fine but the back ones would need rotors and pads. Maybe you can see where this is going. He called about an hour later to tell me that I need a complete brake job, front and rear, pads, rotors and calipers. Bullshit. Even I know that calipers are like, 100,000 mile items, minimum and they could last a lot longer than that. My car has 28,000 miles on it. Bastard.

I called the dealer who said it sounded suspicious and I should bring the car in the next day which I did. So the car is at the dealers as we speak which is where I should have gone in the first place. My question to the shifty-eyed mechanic is: What was it about me that said "Sucker"? If anything, I usually get treated as if I am smarter than I actually am. Something about the suit, rolex, and when I wore little Ralph Lauren glasses (prior to my laser surgery), fugetaboudit. I looked wicked smaht.

So, little mechanic man. Just so you know, I have 3,100 colleagues right up the street from you and I'll be getting the word out about what a shyster you are. The fact that you could take me at the drop of a hat when I drove in on a Monday suggests to me that many of them may already be aware of the fact.

Not again...

Oh man. Lisa wants to go out for "a few drinks" tonight to see my vacation pictures and smoke behind her husband's back. Tonight was supposed to be the first night of good health and citizenship since I left almost two weeks ago. My agenda items were: CVS, yoga, cooking the stuffed salmon Dad gave me, laundry, bill paying and studying for the Foreign Service Exam.

Now, it looks as though Lisa and I are going to meet at Sonsie and drink until we find the people on either side of us interesting enough to talk to. Porquoi Moi?

Shouldn't this have been last week's horoscope?

Leo Horoscope for week of April 8, 2004

I never take drugs. If I were a Leo, however, I might travel to Britain this week and smoke some pot. (Possession of the stuff in small amounts is no longer illegal there.) If that's impossible for you, find other ways to gently blow your mind. Go on a three-day meditation retreat, make love for six consecutive hours, and read the poetry of Mary Oliver while swinging on a swing. Or make atonement to a person you once wronged, assume that everything you think you know is only half-right, and give away money to someone in need. Or all of the above.


Well, the above horoscope, courtesy of FreewillAstrology, describes my vacation to a T. Well, with the exception of the drugs (unless alcohol and cigarettes are drugs), sex, and poetry parts. If it included tolerating a gay friend with Oedipal issues mistaking you for his domineering mother (Dear, if you are reading this and this sounds familiar, it is you and, despite what I promised, I will never vacation with you again. I was lying.), this would be uncannily accurate.

Just a quick rant: Will the sexist media please stop complimenting Condi Rice on her "poise"? Journalists should not be covering her testimony as if he or she is writing a Miss Porter's School report card. I know that the media is sexist; point taken. Just stop it. When you start calling Richard Clark "confident, poised and calm" and describing his suits as "well-tailored", this won't get on my nerves as much but, at this point, it just pisses me off.

Dear God I do not want to work today

A few things on my mind in place of actual work-related thoughts:

How is it that, in Paris, although I had about a loaf of bread a day, ate cheese every 8 hours, drank about a half a bottle of red wine a day, did not consume any food that was, if not covered in a cream sauce, had at least two tablespoons of butter in it and I did not gain a pound?

I did feel a little puffy in London so I skipped breakfast and ate salad for every meal. Result? Maintenance. After five days in France however, I weighed two pounds less than I did when I left the US. WHY?! I must know. We did walk everywhere and Paris is a huge city but I go to the gym pretty regularly and walk around Boston.

We kept a pretty hectic pace though: dinner at Hotel Costes (2x's!), the Orsay, the Marais, Monmarte (where I had my friend take my picture in front of Les Deux Moulins-the cafe in the movie Amelie), Notre Dame, the Louvre, Les Who's Bar chaque nuit, Samaritaine, Kenzo, Monoprix (sentimental favorite - from the days I traveled with only $300 in my pocket) and took long walks along the river. If the answer to staying thin while eating like a bulimic is to go on permanent vacation, sign me up! All I know is, I had a piece of bread with my salad at lunch today and I feel as if I have swallowed a brick. If only my abs were as hard as a brick, I wouldn't mind but , at the moment, I just feel like sticking my finger down my throat.

A "Culture Czar" for Boston? How about a civil engineer?

I had to fight the urge to come back to Boston and complain about:

-how dirty the city is;

-how the T stations (especially the one at the airport - the first impression we give to international visitors. Has anyone seen this recently? An embarrassment.) are NYC circa 1977;

-how needlessly expensive the hotels are (case in point: the Howard Johnson's on Boylslton Street is $168 a night for a mildewed, stuffy room and my beautiful hotel room in Paris, complete with a view of Notre Dame, was $108 a night);

-how ineffective and invisible the police in this city are (hello! We are a terrorist target and every other terrorist-target city has beat cops walking around on constant patrol). Even drunk college students give the cops a run for their money in this town.;

-the drivers and pedestrians alike who see signals as only advisory and run red lights and walk into traffic like Jeff Bridges in "Fearless" (For those who believe that the law states the pedestrians always have the right of way: why do "Walk/Don't Walk" signals exist? Think about it.)

-How there should be cops at every T station 24 hours a day because, although it would prevent some kids from stabbing their friends (a favorite before-and-after school activity of some of our youth here in Boston) more importantly, it might thwart some terrorist activity (there are known terrorist cells here in Boston, remember?). The train line I took yesterday in France was closed down 7 hours after I rode on it following a CIA tip of a threat. I knew there was always a chance of being blown up on a train in London or Paris but the sight of men in military attire and machine guns made me feel better (on many levels-Ha!).

-How we as Bostonians and Americans have it so good and some people here whine non-stop about how they are victimized by the government, the banking industry at large, law enforcement, their employers, the school system, you name it.

But this just pushed me over the edge. PLEASE! A "Culture Czar" as in pre-Bolshevik Russia czar? Right here in our little litter-strewn "world class" city? After all I just saw in two cities known for culture in all of its forms, I am speechless. This woman really has her work cut our for her.

"Think about feral cats and bags full of their crap set ablaze on the passenger’s front step"

I am loving this "How to Walk in New York" article on The Morning News. Thought about doing my own "Guide to Walking in Boston" but this one just says it all.

Malheursement, c'est la vie

Just as all bad things come to an end, so do the good times.
Yesterday, I enjoyed an espresso in a cafe on the Seine in the morning, had lunch with some friends in London and watched "The Apprentice" in my apartment in Boston. Today, I am back at my desk trying to get over my post-vacation depression.

Good time had by all overseas. The crowd in London was the same as ever (no native British people in London proper) but Paris has changed a great deal. First, there were very few actual French people in the neighborhoods we went to and I could not believe how casual people were dressed. I pack so carefully when I go to Paris because everyone always looks so put together there, even wearing jeans can make one feel like a bum. Not anymore though. So, anyone heading over there soon does not have to worry about feeling underdessed or "plain Jane" when stepping out in the City of Light. Causal clothing and jeans ruled the day and, overall I was disappointed because of it. There was just something about a beautiful city full of beautiful people that made one feel as if one were in a movie.


I did not watch the news once and did not even want to check my e-mail until this morning. So, I am now easing back into "reality". I did have about 20 political discussions in London pubs and Paris brasseries and my findings are as follows: Europeans loved Bill Clinton but think George W. Bush is an unsophisticated cowboy and a stereotypical American (poor English, closed-minded, too religious, has no idea what real suffering is); both the English and the French are hoping the John Kerry is elected and were curious to know how many of my friends were going to vote for him. After watching all of those anti-American demonstrations in London, I was surprised that the British people I met were proud of the fact that the UK supported the US in the Iraq war. A British friend explained that, the Brits love to go to war and have 300 years of Imperialisitc tradition behind them to prove it and the UK in general feels isolated and alienated from the rest of the EU and the alliance with the US makes them much stronger than they would be otherwise.

I can wait to get back to blogging about disasterous dates, bad drivers and my weight problem but all I can think about right now is, "will I find a parking space when I get home at 6?" I live right near Fenway and today is Opening Day - seems like yesterday the City erupted in to riots over the last big Red Sox win. Can't wait to see what kind of mayhem this season brings...