(parenthetical)

Married!

2009-05-29T18:51:00.005-04:00

I've been asked (by anonymous, no less) to post some photos. They say a picture is worth a thousand words (I believe that's also attributed to anonymous) so this kind of (sort of?) makes up for my months-long silence.

Here I am, seeing my husband-to-be before our ceremony:

And here we are, being introduced as husband and wife:

Here I am, certain I am going to die, or at least require emergency dental surgery:

Our wedding was no fun, whatsoever:

So we made our escape:

And lived happily ever after.

The end.

Update

2009-05-25T13:54:00.000-04:00

I am now officially married.

First wedding anxiety dream

2008-08-12T10:14:00.002-04:00

Last night, I dreamed I got married in my pajamas and bathrobe. And immediately after the ceremony, I was like "Crap, I bought a dress for this occasion, didn't I? How could I forget that? Do you think we can tell everyone to reconvene the party in a bit, once I've had a chance to change?"

I also had a dream the other night that I was Cameron Diaz, and I was driving a car from the backseat, and as a result, had poor control over the steering and drove over some lady's lawn. She got very angry and stalked me for many miles before revealing herself to be the devil. I woke up whimpering "Help me! Help me!"

The driving a car from the backseat is a dream I've had more than once, and I think there are some pretty obvious themes one can draw about feeling slightly out of control. The rest of it? No idea. I should probably stop eating things just before bed, though.

I was going to post something else, but this was apparently in my clipboard.

2008-07-26T16:27:00.003-04:00

A conversation between my sister and my nephew:

DJ: "Eeew, Molly pooped! Stinky diaper!"

Liz: "No, Molly just peed, she's not stinky."

DJ: "Molly has a penis!"

Liz: "Nooo, Molly doesn't have a penis, she's a girl! Girls don't have penisis."

DJ: "Aunt Caroline has a penis! Yeah, Aunt Caroline has a penis." (followed by vigorous nodding "mmhhhmm" on his end)

Liz "What? Nooo! Aunt Caroline doesn't have a penis! She's a girl too!"

DJ: "Aunt Caroline has a penis. Aunt Caroline said bye-bye on the choo-choo. Yeah, bye-bye, choo-choo."

I guess I should be flattered, I am in his thoughts.

Are you there, Internet? It's me, Caroline.

2008-07-24T23:40:00.005-04:00

Oh, hey there, Internet. How's it going? Oh, yeah, I guess it has been a while, hasn't it?

Sooo... I've contemplated writing a number of things here and then mostly forgotten, or gotten lazy, or thought better of it. Sometimes, when someone takes a long leave of absence from the Internet, I wonder things like "Did something terrible happen she doesn't want to talk about? What sad fate befell her? Is she broke? Homeless? ...Dead?" Maybe I'm just pessimistic about other people's fates.

None of those things have happened to me: I am not befallen of any sad fates, no more broke than I have been, still housed and, yes, alive. I'd say I've been busy, which is kind of true -- since we last met, I've been making wedding plans and getting a new job and other such stuff but mostly, I have just kind of not really felt like posting much here. (Looking over the sadly outdated little list of links on the side there, it seems like a lot of the blogs I used to read also feel similarly.) I sometimes feel as though I missed the last few years of the Internet. I used to be such a good early adopter (I was on Facebook back when it was The Facebook and nobody pretended it was anything more than an ivory tower version of Friendster. Actually, that's how it was described to me by whoever first invited me "It's like Friendster for the Ivy League!" And I wondered what the point was, but I signed up anyway.) But these days, I find myself mostly confused and bored by a lot of it. Maybe I'm just getting old. (side note: I just published, edited, and republished this entry like three times trying to get the parenthesis in that last paragraph right. I am losing my touch.)

Anyway. Things are good. I like my new job. I love the organization for which I now work. (I always feel guilty saying this, like I'm cheating on my old organization, and feel the need to say things like "Not that they're not a great cause; but this just is something I feel more strongly about." Which only makes it sound more like a break-up.) The wedding planning is going well, and I've been thoroughly enjoying making frequent trips to visit my niece and nephew in MA. I think my friends sometimes must get bored of hearing me wax poetic about how brilliant my nephew is, but oh well. I do happen to think he's particularly smart and kind, and few things can make you feel as good about the world as a hug from a caring toddler.

...and now I'm rambling. Or I have been all along, when really, I should be in bed. (Why is it months of silence go by and I feel compelled to update this thing sometime after midnight when I have work in the morning?) What I meant to say is, Hi. I'm alive and well, just quiet.

Dear Molly Elizabeth,

2008-01-31T15:18:00.000-05:00

Welcome to the world!

You should know that I am so thrilled that not only do I have the most adorable nephew in the world, but I now also have the most adorable niece. I hope you will let me buy you frilly girly things, and that you will be good for your mommy, and play nicely with your brother.

I am so excited to meet you. Happy Birthday, Molly!

Love,

Aunt Caroline

2008-01-11T10:09:00.001-05:00

I know we're almost two weeks into the New Year, but I keep thinking of all these things I'd like to do (or do better) so, why not? Here, my Public Declaration of Resolutions for the Year 2008:

Start going to the gym more often again. I more or less took the month of December off. Which was pretty silly, since I didn't take December off from paying for my gym membership, nor did I take December off from indulging in holiday food and drink. I have only been only twice thus thus far in '08, mostly because I've been very good at coming up with excuses. But no more! I will resume my plan of burning off excess stress with a minimum of three cardio and strength workouts a week.

Start cooking a better variety of meals and stop eating out so much.
....

Editors note, Dec. 2009: Clearly, I did not write "blog more" which is a good thing, because, um, I didn't.

Eeee!

2007-12-27T11:19:00.001-05:00

So this is a late announcement, but I wanted to make sure I'd told all the right people before posting this to the Internets and the World (and then I also got a little lazy about posting) and so by now, the few remaining readers of my site have already probably heard this but anyway:

Not quite six years ago, the Patriots emerged victorious in the "Snow Bowl" against the Raiders, the DP held its annual banquet to induct the new board of editors, and I met my future husband. I did not know it at the time, obviously, and there's been a lot that's happened since (graduations, break-ups, a few different shades of hair color) but as it turns out, when I decided "What the heck, why not?" that fateful night, I made a very good choice.

So yes: We're getting married! (Eeee!)

Streaky

2007-11-27T09:42:00.001-05:00

I've noticed I'll get in these moods where I'm like, "You know, I should really write more. I'm going to make it a point to make sure I spend at least 10 minutes writing something, anything, before I go to bed each night."

And that sounds all good and well, but then the part of my brain that can't commit to simple projects starts firing off other ideas. "You should also start going to the gym every day. If you just made it a part of your morning routine, you wouldn't miss that little bit of sleep and think how healthy you'd be!"

From there, it spirals out of control.

"Speaking of healthy, you should really start eating more vegetables. At least five servings of fruit and veggies a day. And making your food at home! That would be healthy and save money."

Then I feel compelled to start thinking about other things, like how I should really vacuum more than once a season, and how it really isn't a very wise to just always drop off my laundry at the laundromat and buy my coffee at the deli, even if it is only 80 cents a cup, I should really just start making it at home. Or not drinking it at all. Yeah, no more coffee! No soda, either! I should shop at the farmer's market, too, with reusable bags I brought from home. But there really isn't a farmer's market in our neighborhood and I really hate having to schlep all those groceries home from Union Square or whatever. Maybe I should find a new apartment, one that isn't small but somehow, costs less. Ugh, I will never be able to afford home ownership. Or even a dog. Hmm, I want a dog. If I got a dog, it could be super awesome, and I could write a book about it and how it was awesome and eventually dies in a heartbreaking way, and it will become a MEGA bestseller because everyone loves a good dog story. Yes, I'll write that.

But then I start thinking about how much I have to do and how totally exhausting it all will be and instead I play another game of Spider Solitaire.

Game 4

2007-10-28T22:16:00.000-04:00

I never would have imagined I'd be actively rooting for the Red Sox to not win the World Series, but tonight, I have to confess, I kind of am.

No, living in New York (and with a Yankee fan) has not dulled my enthusiasm for the Sox. (Well, OK, perhaps I feel a little less fervent about them than I did on '04, but it's not because all the Yankees have gotten to me. It's because the Red Sox have managed to become a seriously annoying team. I mean, not only can you pay for citizenship in "Red Sox Nation" but they now have a president. Also, there's that unspeakably bad Jimmy Fallon movie.)

Tonight, I have a much more selfish reason for hoping they'll let this one go: money.

Last week, when Jesse decided to go to Colorado to see Game 3, visit some friends and his aunt and uncle, I decided against joining him, since my wallet couldn't really justify the trip and I had some other obligations (work event, birthday party) I couldn't really back out of. But I did agree to help him get tickets when the Rockies put them on their website.

Like eight million other would-be buyers, I failed on Monday, but managed to sneak through on Tuesday afternoon. Except, not for Saturday night's game, as planned, but for Monday night's possible Game 5. As I entered my credit card info, I hesitated briefly, but figured even if Jesse could not use the tickets, we could sell them for some profit. And that turned out to be exactly what happened: Jesse's travel plans were not flexible, but the tickets went for more than twice what I paid when we posted them on StubHub.

I started to get excited thinking about what I'd do with the $700ish in profit I'd be getting -- it would more than cover the Spice Girls tickets I was a bit too eager to buy (um, anyone interested in going to the Feb. 10th show in Newark?) and there'd be some extra for an ipod to replace the one that was so cruelly stolen (along with my wallet) last month.

But all that is for naught if there is no Game 5, which is looking less and less likely as the innings progress.

So, I know this is really selfish, but I don't care. New England fan arrogance has gotten to me and I am more than confident the Sox will win the World Series. (Also, the Pats will be undefeated until next pre-season, and Jonathan Papelbon and Tom Brady can Riverdance together on Comm Ave. Whatever.) So I'm not rooting for them to lose it all. Just one game.

(And, yes, I know by posting this, I am totally tempting fate. But if this entry goes on to spur another amazingly heartbreaking 86-year losing streak, well, it's kind of awesome that I'd have that sort of power, don't you think?)

Quick note

2007-10-22T23:00:00.001-04:00

I realize this site is a bit of a mess. My apologies for the down time the past few days. Parenthetical just turned seven (aw, if I'd had a baby instead of a website in the fall of 2000, she'd be in the second grade! And, yes, my website would be a girl.) and I decided to transfer the hosting, which is very boring and not really worth explaining, but anyway, 'tis done. At some point, I am hoping to actually create a new layout of my very own instead of using a template. Also, I will fix the links that disappeared. Oh yeah, and post some new content. But for now, just be glad the thing is up again, OK?

Yay Babies!

2007-09-14T10:06:00.001-04:00

Coming Valentine's Day 2008 (approximately)... my new niece!

I feel slightly guilty because I hate that I went into this actively kind of hoping for one over the other, but OK, it's true: I wanted a girl. I want to buy her pretty girly things like the princess costumes that my childhood so sadly lacked (it's true: I'd just wrap my blankie around myself and pretend it was a long, flowing skirt/dress. I think I only liked my blankie because it could simulate princess attire and because Liz had one, so I felt I should too), but I would have been excited if DJ were going to be getting a little brother instead. But that's also kind of irrelevant because it's a girl! (And more importantly, she is healthy and everything looked good.)

More babies!

Yay!

Random Thoughts

2007-09-13T15:52:00.000-04:00

For some reason, I feel like I've been hit with a massive case of ADD today. It doesn't help that the office is half empty (Shanah Tova! Let's party like its 5768!) or that I drank a lot of tea this morning in the hopes of banishing this burgeoning cold/allergy attack (not sure which it is; I've been feeling a little sniffly/sore-throat-y for the past few days, and co-workers have been out claiming they've got bad colds, but taking an antihistamine has helped me and I don't feel achy or sick otherwise). I am kind of just bouncing around the office. A few minutes ago, we all crowded around the one computer with sound capabilities (don't ask me why we all are forced to have sound-less computers, we just are) to watch Britney's VMA performance and a sad trill of "Gimme Gimme! Gimme Gimme!" is still running through my head.

It's only Thursday. I need to remind myself there's still Friday to get through, the work week isn't over yet, but this feels very hard to do.

Anyway, random musings:

Who would you rather have take you shopping: Stacy and Clinton or Tim Gunn and Veronica Webb? I kind of want to say Tim Gunn, because he's awesome, but I also really like What Not To Wear. I don't think I'd want Trinny and Susannah from the original/BBC What Not To Wear taking me out -- I love that they are bitchy and will straight up tell you your tits look saggy in that top, but I'm not sure their fashion wisdom er -- translates. Anyway, I hate all my pants right now and would like it if some reality TV show would descend upon my wardrobe and fix it.

I've decided I really like licorice. I feel like it makes a good mid-afternoon snack, because it's candy, but it's also kind of healthy (not, like, Twizzlers, but actual black licorice) and has all those medicinal purposes. (side thought: Is the licorice I had after lunch causing my loopy state?)

Three is the ideal number to complete a short list. I really can't end it on just two, because that's really not a list at all; it's just a pair. Four is really more than necessary and I think at that point, you're really trying people's patience. When writing, I always like to use things in threes: three clauses to a sentence (er, not all sentences, obviously), three bullet points, three adjectives to describe something. It just feels balanced. But sometimes, you really don't have three full thoughts to share, so you end up kind of searching for a third. Like now.

OK: I think 4:50 is close enough to 5 to call it quits for the day. Peace.

Breakfast conversation

2007-09-12T10:54:00.001-04:00

Me [counting out individual Frosted Mini-Wheats]: Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three...

What? It's a serving. That's what the box says.

Him: I'm really glad you don't do that with Rice Krispies.

Apartment envy

2007-08-29T23:30:00.002-04:00

During a fairly painful conference call (is there any other kind?) this afternoon, I noticed an interesting-looking catalog on my boss' desk, from Room & Board. Their fall catalog highlights different people's homes and how they've incorporated the Room & Board furniture in their modern yet cozy yuppie spaces. Pretty couches, nice TV stand, I thought. And then I alighted upon a particularly infuriating "customer story."

Meet Lanie.

Lanie is a a "fashionable woman" who manages to "live large in less than 500 square feet."

The pages featuring Lanie's third floor walk-up (oh the humanity!) West Village apartment show all her tips on how to manage in such a painfully, painfully small space. "In such a small space, everything has to do double-duty," she says. Or something like that -- I didn't take the catalog home with me and it's not up on the website yet, so I am paraphrasing, perhaps not using direct, word-for-word quotations. (edit: back in the office, took another peek, so direct quotes below)

A third-floor walk up in Manhattan means small rooms, narrow stairwells and tight hallways, the catalog tells its readers. 'Nothing in my home is just for looks,' explains Lanie. 'Everything has to do two things.' The spread also features a floor plan, showing how lanie makes the most of "every inch in her home." Basically, they want you to know how five hundred square feet is such an impossibly cramped space that you couldn't, say, have a normal coffee table that didn't offer extra storage!

Look, I realize extra storage is always nice, and obviously, the catalog is just trying to highlight the practical uses of their very attractive but overpriced furniture while making you think that maybe you can have a little piece of Lanie's New York City dream. But come on.

Clearly, Lanie with her precious little doggy and beautiful but incredibly impractical Louboutin heels (I think that's what they are, with those red soles) is not suffering so badly. (The piece includes a little blurb about how she loves Magnolia Bakery cupcakes, too. For those unaware, Magnolia's cupcakes were featured in Sex and the City and despite that show having been over for more than three years, dumb girls continue to line up down the block like they're sprinkled with fashion fairy dust or something.)

Five hundred square feet is a very decently-sized space, especially for just one person in Manhattan. Obviously, it's less than what you'd get for the money in, say, Minnesota (where Room & Board is based) but how is that news to anyone?

I caught a similar feature on the brutal reality of apartment living on Oprah a few months back, where her designer person made over some woman's apartment and they all acted like it was a great miracle. When the audience all gasped at hearing how one person could live with just a mini-fridge, I felt the need to really hurt them. Seriously? I know Americans have come accustomed to super-sized everything, and obviously studio apartments aren't every one's cup of tea (including mine -- a bedroom with a proper door having been number one on our list of apartment requirements) but elsewhere in the world, whole families share single rooms. Lanie managing in a third-floor walk-up in a neighborhood shared with the likes of Jennifer Garner and the Sex and the City she-devil herself, Sarah Jessica Parker, hardly constitutes a miracle.

New York, I love you, but sometimes you make it very hard to be just a normal person who cannot afford (and does not desire) a multi-million dollar West Village apartment.

I guess I should really not blame Lanie. She had some cute ideas for her space and I am sure I'd be very happy living in an apartment that looked like hers. But something about the entire catalog (which also featured a retired Bay-area couple whose, ahem "minimalist hill-top house with amazing views of a seaside town in Marin County" and a Midwestern family who had some story I didn't bother to examine too closely) just felt so smug. And irritating. I would like to have a nice home someday, but I really hope to never describe it with such an obnoxious, precious tone. I want a catalog with beautiful furniture that real people can afford. I should probably just go to IKEA, but I also want it to be real furniture that has really already been put together. By someone else.

Happy Birthday, DJ!

2007-08-28T15:16:00.000-04:00

You know it's a slow day when you find yourself visiting your own site, in the hopes that maybe there will be something new there to read. (Sadly, I found out I hadn't sleep-blogged, or whatever it was I was expecting to have happened -- still same old post from a few weeks ago.)

But today is actually an exciting day. One year ago today, just before midnight, I became an aunt to the most amazing nephew ever. (I can say this while I still only have one nephew. I will have to figure out some qualifier if that situation should change in a few months.)

It's been fascinating to watch him grow over the last year. I don't get to see him nearly as often as I'd like, so every time I come home, he's passed some other new developmental milestone. He's gone from a sleepy, burping (albeit adorable) infant to a friendly, babbling little toddler with his own personality. I love his sense of humor, how he cracks himself up all the time, how he gives his own slobbery version of kisses and adores animals.

So, Happy Birthday, DJ! I hope your cake tastes even better than your foot.

You're my only home

2007-08-06T15:13:00.000-04:00

Hey there, sorry 'bout that. The month of July just kinda slipped by me and now it's the first week of August and I haven't written in over a month. Whoops.

July was an eventful month, too, so I should've had a lot to say, but the truth is I didn't really feel like taking the time to write about it. It was a good month, though, which included happy family moments like my older sister getting married. Her wedding was beautiful and lots of fun, as you can see from the picture below:

(I'd post more, but I didn't really take any photos of the actual reception since I was too busy having fun. But look! Here we are, preparing to have good, shoe-less fun.)

Also in July, my mother sold her house and bought a new one. After nearly seventeen years of calling the same address home, I said goodbye to my old room and house during last weekend.

The new house is charming, lovely and exactly what she needed. It's also not very far from the old one, so it's not like the neighborhood will be any kind of major adjustment. But it will only have three bedrooms, and with my little brother and sister still residing there (at least part of the year, in Steph's case) this leaves me off of the official bedroom roster. Which is OK, really, since I had only very rarely slept in my actual bedroom at home in the past few years. But it's strange, because this new house, while great, will never really be "home" for me.

I am thrilled for my mother that she's moving, but I couldn't help feeling a little strange coming back to my apartment in the city and realizing this was my only home now. I like our apartment, but it can feel a little cramped and I haven't really shaken the feeling that this is some kind of temporary, post-college living arrangement that isn't, y'know, real. We have one closet, after all, and a kitchen that, while relatively large by city standards, totally doesn't feel like a real kitchen, capable of producing holiday dinners or other proper home-y things. So it's weird that this would be IT. The Home Sweet Home. But, I guess it is. Goodbye, old house.

2007-06-29T14:05:00.000-04:00

The other day, in my on-going quest to find new, fresh music for my workout playlist, I found myself perusing the CD selection at my local library branch on my lunch break.

The library's CD collection is really a wonder to behold. It's dingy and dusty and it saddens me that nobody has ever really found an adequate way of storing CDs. There are those big ugly towers, but they are big and ugly and now that the 90s are over, are no longer really acceptable furniture items. There are those giant binders, but they're unwieldy and not at all ideal for a library where you want to make sure people can check them out with the case. I know people have tried doing drawers with slots for each case, but those are always jamming up, and if you have a double-disk set, well, tough luck, my friend. Tough luck.

This particular branch of the NYPL system, it seems, has also just given up on finding a decent way to shelve their CDs and settled for just jamming them in rows on the shelves right above their VHS collection. The result is a display that makes it not at all easy to browse and extremely easy to chip of break the cases.

But if you do brave the horrible shelving situation to peruse the collection, you will be in for a treat. (A very, very random assortment of treats, really.)

For the most part, you'd suspect that this collection was conceived and mostly furnished during, maybe 1999, when purchases like Jamiroquai's Synkronized and The Baha Men's Who Let the Dogs Out seemed like they might possibly become essential parts of the pop culture pantheon. Other odd choices: Today's Country Dance Hits Back to Back (various artists), 98 Degrees and Rising (98 Degrees), and many, many copies of compilation albums from Entertainment Weekly and Billboard -- Greatest Hits - 1972, Pure Disco Hits, etc.

In the end, I picked up a John Fogerty greatest hits CD, one of those Entertainment Weekly compilations, and Melissa Etheridge's Yes I Am, feeling a vague twinge of nostalgia for a brief period in the fall of seventh grade where I waited long hours by the radio, poised to hit "record" as soon as "I'm The Only One" came on the radio. (Really, a great song, especially when you're 12 and most certainly the only one who has ever endured the horrible miseries of life and unrequited love.)

Kids today with their playlists and itunes are really missing a great preteen experience of forming mixtape masterpieces. It's really a lost art -- trying to hit the button in time to get the maximum amount of song with the minimum amount of DJ banter, and then stopping the recording before the DJ banter/next song/commercial begins. But, whatever. Now I have "I'm The Only One" on my mp3 player too.

Go-Tarts

2007-06-08T20:20:00.000-04:00

I think this product may possibly been out for a while now, but for the last three years, I've ordered my groceries almost exclusively from Fresh Direct, which, happily, prevents me from perusing the aisles full of totally unnecessary prepacked processed novelty food items. So. I only just learned of Go-Tarts.

These, ladies and gentlemen, are Go-Tarts:

According to their ad, they're all the frosty, fake-fruit-filled goodness of Pop-Tarts, but they're smaller. And, somehow, this means you'll be more interested in ... taking them places.

OK, maybe this is just me, but I didn't think the original Pop-Tarts as being formal sit-down food. Yes, you can have it on a plate, and I suppose those with very picky eating habits could use a fork and knife. But really, is it that hard to take your Pop-Tart places? I realize it's a little bit more food than maybe you'd want in one moment (at least, this is my issue with those packs -- there are two Pop-Tarts packaged together, and really, I think one tart would would be plenty a lot of the time). But I don't get the impression that the American eating public -- the one facing an obesity epidemic -- is saying "We want smaller packages with less food!"

I realize I've been known to stretch the definitions of portable breakfast food, and can often be seen leaving my apartment in the morning with a plain (toasted) Eggo wrapped in a paper towel. (Ahh, there's a catchy product idea: Go-Eggos, or maybe Go-'gos!) But seriously? Go-Tarts?

Red Sox, MA

2007-06-05T09:50:00.000-04:00

During a rather unspectacular Yankees vs. Red Sox game a few weeks back, Jesse and I found ourselves contemplating the back of Mike Lowell's jersey and discussing various Red Sox players whose last names are Massachusetts towns. (I believe Tim Wakefield was also pitching, but it actually took us a while to realize that that counts as a Mass. town, too.)

Anyway, we came up with a pretty small list during the game. Since there are many towns in Massachusetts that I am unaware of, forgot, or may or may not actually exist (Youkilis, MA?), our records were quite incomplete.

However, Jesse was kind enough to compile the following list (adding, "If you've ever wondered what I do with my days at home, it's stuff like this") and I thought I should share it with you all. Because I have nothing better to write about.

Presenting the Red Sox of Massachusetts (in order of population):

Mike Lowell 2006-07
Fred Lynn – 1974-80
Carl Everett – 2000-01
Tim Wakefield – 1995-2007
Billy Gardner – 1962-63
Larry Gardner – 1908-17
Wes Gardner – 1986-90
Joe Hudson – 1995-97
Sid Hudson – 1952-54
Lenny Webster – 1999
Ray Webster – 1960
Lou Clinton – 1960-64
Chick Maynard – 1922
Erik Hanson – 1995
Bob Adams – 1925
Terry Adams – 2004
Bill Lee – 1969-78
Dud Lee – 1924-26
Sang-Hoon Lee – 2000
Walter Carlisle – 1908
Mike Paxton – 1977
Tom Bolton – 1987-92
Fred Hatfield – 1950-52
Jeff Plympton – 1991
Allen Russell – 1919-22
Jack Russell – 1926-36
Jeff Russell – 1993-94
Rip Russell – 1946-47
Al Worthington – 1960
Garry Hancock – 1978-82
Josh Hancock – 2002
Bob Montgomery – 1970-79

This brings up a few points: namely, that I had no idea there were places such as Montgomery, Worthington, Russell, and Lee, MA. Or that the population of Clinton is bigger than Plympton. Or that Tim Wakefield has been with the Red Sox for 12 years. (That makes me feel old.) Any additions? Or otherwise completely useless lists that nonetheless are somehow interesting?

Band Aid guilt

2007-06-04T12:43:00.000-04:00

Is it wrong to use the Band-Aids in the office first aid kit to patch up my sandal-scarred toes? Part of me feels like this is really an abuse of the first aid kit; that it's meant for emergencies and poor choices in footwear hardly constitute an emergency. But part of me feels like, dammit, my foot hurts; and furthermore, this is an office. What's the biggest Band-Aid requiring emergency that could possibly take place here? Massive paper-cut bleeding?

Yeah, I probably should go buy my own damn box of Band Aids. But these are here, and they're free and it's not like I'm taking extras in case I might need a Band-Aid, like, over the weekend. That probably would be wrong. This, I think, is justifiable.

The Best Friday Post (on this blog today, anyway)

2007-05-25T09:13:00.000-04:00

The Hammacher Schlemmer catalog is one of the best unsolicited pieces of mail I receive. (I was going to say that the issues of Rolling Stone that come week after week might be the very best, because those have an actual retail price, but honestly, I almost never read 'em. Stop inflating your circ base, Rolling Stone!)

Take for instance the H&S catalog that most recently arrived in our mailbox -- on the cover is a strange, blue, bug-like device. This, I learned, is The Remote-Controlled Omnidirectional Submarines. (Of course it is.)

I love how everything in their catalog is THE item. The Ergonomic Garden Tool Set. The Rechargeable 24-LED Umbrella Light. The 900-Gram Plush Color Genuine Turkish Bath Sheet. The Hydrofoil Water Scooter. (Really, who doesn't already have one of those?) They're also punctuated, like they're complete sentences already. And when something has won an award, it's The Superior Item. The Superior Adjustable Tricycle that Hammacher Schlemmer sells is, clearly, miles above all the other ordinary adjustable tricycles that flood the market. And when the venerable Hammacher Schlemmer Institute has tested something itself, it's not just "Superior"; it's The Best.

According to their website:

The Hammacher Schlemmer Institute was founded in 1983 as a not-for-profit group
affiliated with Hammacher Schlemmer. Our primary focus is searching for products
that are the Best of their kind.

Fascinating. I wonder if people actually give to the Hammacher Schlemmer Institute. Is it a 501 (c) 3? So many questions with answers I don't really feel like finding.

Anyway, with all these incredibly indispensable items that promise to make my life at least Superior if not The Best, one would think that the Hammacher Schlemmer store would be even more amazing than the catalog. After all, I somewhat enjoy wasting time in Brookstone and The Sharper Image and their catalogs are actually kind of boring. One would think that the store with The Best catalog would be even better to visit.

(I think I formed this idea vaguely from that early 90s cinema classic, Joe vs. The Volcano, in which Joe visits the Hammacher Schlemmer store on 57th street and buys luggage you can golf on and other wildly impractical but totally amazing items before setting off for his death cruise.)

As it turns out, it's actually pretty boring -- definitely a bit less exciting than Brookstone. Which makes sense, if you stop and think about it -- most of the items in the H&S catalog that seem really, really cool are really, really big. And they're not found in their Manhattan store. (Their "Landmark" store, according to their website, although, it also appears that's their only store. They also claim it's "in the heart of midtown Manhattan's Shopping District" and I'd argue that it's actually sort of tucked away on a moderately less-travelled block.)

Yes, you can sit in one of those massage chairs for a while, or test the "massagers" that are ostensibly upscale, less-sexualized vibrators, but that's hardly bringing anything new to the game. There is no water slide to test out. No Geodesic Climber, either. And you can't give the Hydrofoil Water Scooter a whirl.

I'm not even sure they still sell luggage with a putting hole on top anymore. In short: if you simply must have The Best Nosehair Trimmer and happen to be in the neighborhood, it might not be so bad to stop in. But otherwise, the catalog is a vastly Superior Hammacher Schlemmer experience.

Brrrrzwhrrrr

2007-05-17T00:33:00.000-04:00

I'm not usually a very OCD sort of person. Many family and roommates can attest to my total lack of obsessive cleaning or whatever. But every so often, my mind will get stuck on something. This is particularly true when I'm trying to fall asleep, but not completely relaxed and dead tired (the idea conditions for me to fall into long, blissful sleep).

Tonight, I have become fixated on the damn air conditioner.

Right now, it's only 67° according to AccuWeather, but it feels a lot warmer in the apartment, mostly because it's not a terribly easy to ventilate space. (I don't know why, it just. Isn't.) So yes, I do feel bad running the a/c but whatever. (Al Gore, I haven't forgotten your slide show, but honestly, you take jets everywhere. If you get to do that, I get to run the air while I try to sleep, 'k?)

However, the air conditioner has decided to make a really, really annoying sound. I am pretty sure it's because we bought the cheapest model available at Home Depot (and ughhhhh that was such an excruciatingly irritating process that I never ever want to think of it again, but let me just say: NO one should EVER shop there EVER AGAIN, especially not the super super crappy one at 59th and Lex, ESPECIALLY not if you what home delivery this century) and it's made of cheap flimsy plastic that isn't particularly, well, sound.

It'll be quietly humming along and then suddenly burp out a horrible BRRWRSZWSERRT sort of sound. Over and over for like, five minutes. Then it'll go back to humming until I'm almost asleep and BERRRRWWWZHHHRRRR!!!

This didn't bother me last year. But for some reason, lately, I can't stop thinking about it. Even when I do sleep, the odd noises haunt my dreams. I'll dream about hunting down the noise and stopping it, only to have not really made it go away at all (kind of like those dreams where you have to pee and keep looking for bathrooms only to find you still have to go? except with a noise. and less bed-wetting potential.)

I've tried putting heavy things on top of the a/c, because I have this stupid idea that it'll stop the plastic from vibrating so much, except I'm not even sure the vibrating plastic is really the problem. It sounds so much more... internal. But then, I have no idea. Maybe I just need to buy a new air conditioner, this time from some place I don't hate.

Update

2007-05-11T13:33:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, I went to pick up what I assumed would be the carcass of my laptop and the discs containing its remains, but instead found that they'd actually gone ahead and fixed the thing and just billed me for two hours' of time.

Odd, but good. (I mean, it would've been nice if the computer guy had discussed this with me first, since I could've gone ahead and bought a whole new laptop if I was an impulsive-yet-financially-solvent kind of girl. But whatever.)

However, at work, our servers have been suffering some kind of long, drawn-out meltdown. Which is not good. Right now, we have Internet access but no email, none of our files and can't print anything. Which means I can basically surf the web (at very slooooow speeds) and not do too much else. Sigh.

A few notes on my morning

2007-05-05T09:48:00.000-04:00

1. About two weeks ago, I finally decided to give into the nagging message that kept popping up on my computer, telling me I needed to restart in order for the latest Windows update to take effect. I restarted the computer, and it never stopped. Just couldn't load Windows after that, not even in Safe Mode.

Thursday, I left the laptop with a computer repair guy. After a few hours, I get a call: Yes, my computer is dead. He can either reinstall windows and it should work again just fine, but it'll cost me $75 an hour and will take somewhere between 3 and 4 hours. Or, he can just extract my files for me, which will take 1-2 hours, same rate.

Yesterday, I decided that I couldn't really justify spending a few hundred dollars on a nearly four year old laptop that has never really served me that well. So, I said just get my files and be done with it.

(I'm actually not sure it was even really worth getting all my files, but I do have a lot of mp3s on there I'd like to get back and re-downloading all of them would cost a few hundred dollars, and more importantly, I have lots of baby DJ pictures on there.)

Today, I am using Jesse's laptop and contemplating my options. (A laptop with buggy Windows Vista? an overpriced and overly proprietary Mac?) I think I am going to wait this one out for a bit.

2. We are down to two or three squares of toilet paper. I know it's just around the corner, but I really don't feel like getting dressed and going to the store right now.

Life is so hard.