Bfn

BF has a friend in town and I'm off to catch up with them for some drinks. I skipped dinner because I wanted to go to HW for my final chance to workout there - my membership's up. It was really tough to say that goodbye - almost like you'd feel leaving an apartment or an office - someplace constant where you had a minute to catch your breath as you watched your life play out day after day.

Ooo, they haven't left for the restaurant yet - I can have dinner after all. Nothin' like a snack to soften an emotional blow :)

 

Throwin' a little love to my tv

Tv gets a bad rap. I mean, yeah, it can be violent and result in couch-potato kids. But when productive, adjusted adults brag that they don't even own a tv, I just wonder why? Is it really that cool to loathe popular culture? I love tv. I mean, I discriminate, and I never spend all Saturday cooped up watching The Real World marathon (okay, once, but I was wicked depressed that day). If I get home on a Tuesday night in time to tune into Gilmore Girls, I couldn't be happier. And I'm totally okay with that.

 

If on your sleeve isn't obvious enough

On Tuesday BF and I went to the Member Fling at the SCLA. It was pretty funny. It really was a nice event, with great music and free, fabulous watermelon-flavored mohitos. We were out on the terrace watching the sun set, and the weather was beautiful.

But for some reason they were short on food. I think most people had come with the same idea that we had: "If we're smart about it we can make this dinner". The problem was, although it was advertised to make you think that'd be possible, it totally wasn't. Each time a server would come outside with a new tray of appetizers, the rich folk would swoop. Not being dog-eat-dog enough, we went hungry, licking the wounds other people's elbows had inflicted on us as they pushed us aside. Of all the people there, we probably need free food the most, but there was no charity.

Although I was there with BF, I got a taste of life at the SCLA, and it was just how I imagined it. The two times that BF left me alone to get more drinks, the men honed in. And what was interesting was their standard first two sentences. They went something like this: "You must be new here because I'm sure I haven't seen you around before. I'm an investment banker/I own my own business/I'm the CEO of prospering company." So what I learned about them is that they scope out women's asses in their gym shorts and they're loaded. The second one I already knew, the first I'd rather not know. Over IM today, I told my friend S about the my-job-could-finance-your-shopping-habit premature disclosures.

"They should just print it on their shirts, that way everyone would know right away." She suggested.

"Yeah, and the women could tattoo their bra size on their forehead and then all pertinent information would be on the table."

"Exactly."

I might start asking for tax records right up front if I'm ever on the dating market again.

 

If you want it...

Tonight when I parked my car I pulled up behind the green Volkeswagen that has terrorized our neighborhood during every snow storm - the owner "secures" her shoveled out spot: leaving cones, furniture, recycle bins and the like to mark her territory while she's at work. No one wants to move them for fear of retribution, and no one knows who she is (although I did find out where she lives. Where, you ask? Nowhere in this neighborhood - her boyfriend lives two houses down. Her boyfriend! This isn't even HER street!). Making a bad situation worse, the parking spot she confiscates each winter for over a month after every storm (yeah, so unnecessary!) is the rockstar parking spot directly in front of our house on our street!

I noticed today as I came up behind her car that she has a bumper sticker baring a single word: "Karma."

Oh, I'll give you karma...

 

Paint by numbers

Last night I was sad. BF made it better. I love it when things really are that easy.

Speaking of easy, those "easy button" Staples commercials? Are they just stupid? They're just stupid, right? Or am I missing something?

 

Insert "duh" here

Bumper sticker on the car in front of me this morning:

"When Jesus said love your enemies, he probably didn't mean kill them."

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Thanks for clarifying.

 

Hoop dreams

The weather's getting warmer, which means the neighborhood kids are out at the playground behind our house, playing basketball. They play at all hours of the night. They seem to play more once the sun goes down, but maybe that's just when we're around to hear them. My bedroom window faces the park so I fall asleep to the thump of ball on concrete; I'm equal parts annoyed and comforted.

 

Focus

I spent my Monday at part one of a two-day crash-course grant writing seminar. Securing a grant is the next project I plan to tackle. It's also a bargaining chip I'd like to throw on the table when discussing title, status, and salary - once you start bringing money in you're given a little more lattitude in your demands. But writing a grant is a huge undertaking. I've had experience working on and managing grants, but I've never started one from scratch and guided it from inception through to completion. A two-day seminar may sound like plenty of time to cover things, but it's really not. My poor head was spinning from the sheer volume of information. Everything our instructor said seemed significant, and she said so many things!!! I was completely worn out by the end of the day. Then I went to the gym and I was worthless there too - I think my brain was so overloaded it started sucking the life out of my body.

 

One shot deal

Last night we got free tickets to Rent! We landed the tickets at 7:35 for an 8 o'clock show, and I was in Cambridge curled up in bed with a copy of Wicked, but the thought of an unexpected night at the theatre was too good an opportunity to pass up. We arrived 10 minutes late by the time all was said and done, but our seats were fabulous. We were front row center balcony, so I could just lean over and rest my head in my arms on the balcony rail and drift off into another world for a while...

I got a Tetanus shot yesterday. My arm was throbbing, so I felt all weepy and out of sorts as the day wore on. Shots always mess me up - I'm never quite right for a day or so afterward. Which means it was perfect timing for play tickets to fall out of the sky.

 

A $10 trip to the place you hoped you'd never be again

Last night R and I went to see The Break Up. I love Vince Vaughn, and I wish good things for Jennifer Aniston after the Brangelina fiasco, so I was hoping to really like the movie. It definitely had its funny moments. But all in all, way too realistic. R agreed with me on this point. It was life, played out on the big screen. You could feel the frustration, the disappointment, and the pain of a break up where the parties involved still love each other. If I wanted to feel all that, I'd just flip through some old photo albums. Plus, both Vince and Jen have that face - that sweet, wounded, I'm-an-idiot-but-I'm-so-lovable face. It was like watching a teddy bear fall into a puddle and then get run over. Toward the end of the movie Jen says to Vince, "I just don't know how we got here." If I had a dollar...

 

Side by side comparison

The differences between Boston and NYC, as I see them: NYC has Tasti DLite and Jamba Juice. NYC has amazing shopping. Obviously. And more Starbucks per square mile. Boston has thin women - the Northeast is kind of known for that. NYC has models. Thin women, but with big boobs. Advantage NYC. And I'm not even a guy. Or a lesbian. So for me it's the first three points that make the most compelling case.

 

Intoxicating

NYC was fabulous! We had a great time. When we first hit the streets after arriving at Penn Station, I was a little overwhelmed - NYC is much bigger than Boston in every way imaginable. But once I got my bearings, I started to like the pace and the energy. It even felt familiar, though I hadn't been back there in years. Now I miss it. I'm sure the magic would have worn off eventually, but we left before that happened. So now all I feel upon returning home is longing...