lessons learned

I learned a lot in high school. Shakespeare. Oh, man, I loved Shakespeare. I loved the lyric of it all, the way the words made perfect sense despite being backwards. The Roman Empire was too brutal to love, but I was intrigued. All those aqueducts and lions, I guess.

I learned how to kiss a guy breathless before I learned how to kiss a girl breathless, but I've since decided it doesn't matter the order as long as everybody was breathless. Because really, what's better than a kiss that leaves you without breath?

O=oxygen. H=hydrogen. Au=gold. Ne=neon. Hg=mercury. At least I think they do...what the hell with Hg being mercury?

I also learned how to vomit. Anywhere, anytime. When my teeth started leaving imprints on my knuckles, I started using an unsharpened pencil. When my gag reflex weakened, I bought Ipecac.

Years have passed now, and not everything I learned remains imprinted. The important stuff, though, that lingers.

So if you see me and realize I'm bigger than I used to be, don't say anything.


welcome to the jungle, dude

I live a rather scattered life. One day I'm having coffee and muffins in a tiny little coffee house in the suburbs, the next day I'm running through downtown because I missed the train AGAIN, and then the day after that I'm cursing the urban planning disaster that is Harvard Square.

Speaking of Harvard Square, am I the only one shocked that more people don't die there? Am I the only one shocked that I haven't died there??


Most people have alarm clocks that awaken them with music...mine screams "Where's the orange juice!" at the top of its lungs at 6:05 every morning. Unpleasant, really, but what can you do? Well, you can curse, which I usually do, but then you just have to get on with it. The day always starts with grand intentions. I will do laundry! I will cook dinner! I will go to bed early! It's 6:05! The day is full of possibilities!

Reality sets in by 6:06.

"What do you mean you have no socks? Can't you pull a pair out of the hamper?"

And we're off.

I'm not even sure how to describe the rest of the day seeing as how it passes in giant blurs of color that make no sense even to me. Let's just say if night falls and I don't have a headache it's been a good day. Groceries in the pantry? Great day. And if I find beer in the fridge? Nirvana, baby.

Oh. I promised I'd cook dinner, didn't I?

Here. Have a Hot Pocket.



I have a secret love.

It's not a man, or even a woman. It's not food or chocolate or trashy romance novels. It's not beer or cigarettes. It's...it's..

...deep breath...


You heard me.

That's right, I, lover of Green Day and Seether and Linkin Park, also love fluffy pop songs sung by cheesy boy bands.

Backstreet Boys? Making a comeback. Now, I'm sure it'll be a one-hit-wonder kind of comeback, but what a one-hit-wonder it is. It's schmaltzy. It's cheesy. It's absolutely perfect

Hanson? Yes, Hanson, those absolutely adorable young'uns from Iowa or wherever? Make my heart mush up. I mean, don't you wish an adorable young'un from Iowa or wherever sang things like this for you??

Yes, I am too old for this crap, and no, I don't care.

Just don't tell anybody.


go home, tourist scum

Spring. When vast, frozen wastelands turn into giant, soggy fields of mud. You'd think this is a good thing...birds sing, flowers bloom, squirrels come out of hiding.

You'd be wrong.

Birds shit on your head, a fact we all conveniently forget when the only thing falling from the sky is ice. Flowers make you sneeze. Okay, they make me sneeze, but judging by the other people I see with red eyes staring out from behind soggy Kleenex tissue I'm comfortable assuming I'm not alone in my misery, so flowers suck, okay? And squirrels? Poor bastards are too stupid to cross with the light.

Also, there are tourists, which is really just a nice way of saying Very Stupid People. How else do you explain the jackass who stood in the middle of a crosswalk in the middle of an insanely busy intersection and stared skyward for no apparent reason? In a Yankees shirt? With A-Rod's number on it?? I think the squirrels are smarter than this guy.

Then, there was this conversation with Very Stupid Person Number Two.

"Excuse me, can you tell me where Brattle Street is?"
"The street your standing on?"
"No, Brattle Street."
"Yes, the street you're standing on."
"NO. You don't understand. I'm trying to find Brattle Street!"
"Oh, Brattle Street. No, no idea where that is."


Or maybe I'm just a bitch.