It kind of disturbs me that nearly all of my summer clothes fit in one plastic bin. I also only have one pair of wearable shorts and they're not exactly awesome. I know what I'm buying next spring.
We did a metric buttload of laundry, changed out the screens/sundry winterizing, caught up on dishes, and did some more rearranging in hopes of it looking like a real, live home down here before the holidays/guests. Around 16:00, I realized that I had become a cave troll and hadn't left the house since Friday. We decided to brave the chilly, windy weather and venture out to the East Side.
I finally sucked it up and wore a coat. I am glad I did. It was freezing!
We parked nearly on Thayer Street and started wandering. There were still a fair amount of things open, shoppingwise, but bleh, it was really cold. That made dinner the much more attractive option. We ended up at Mama's Sharwarma. I really like their falafel better than East Side Pockets; they're lighter. I got an amazing falafel & beef sharwarma wrap and Steven got the burger of the day. Totally the best fries ever, there.
Cue more wandering from there. We didn't really have a plan when we went out except to just get out. We decided to check out Creperie since we've heard nothing but good things about it. It's this teeny little hole in the wall that's open really late.
We really weren't disappointed. It wasn't the cheapest thing around, but it was really, really delicious. I had Nutella and bananas, Steven had bananas, strawberries, and honey. So good. I can see why it's gotten such good reviews online. They have savory crepes, waffles, and a variety of wraps, it seems, as well.
Obviously, we're home now. That was our entertainment budget for the week.
This next week looks like it's going to be long. I have to meet with a counselor on Tuesday and then class picking day is Wednesday plus the few odd shifts at work. We're going to see Alice Cooper next week-end, so that's a nice thing to look forward to.
I still can't believe the month is almost over. I feel like I've missed most of the fall, though that's not exactly a lie with being sick. This really could be the only cold I have for the winter and I'll be set.
I wish I weren't so meh.
( Atonement review )
We went out after for Tibetan food with Sam, which was ok, but not great. I started getting the beginnings of a migraine which is still lingering today, though it's not unbearable yet. I'm hoping I slept through the worst of it. We rolled in around 4:30 in the morning.
Anyhow, I have two books coming soon and I got my replacement Baby G which I have managed not to set the unholy, chirpy alarm on. I've done nothing else this week-end, though I should do a bit of laundry so I have things to wear tomorrow. I still need to finish my hair today and repaint my nails, too.
Of course, instead, I am going to sit around and watch Evita again and be lazy for the rest of the day
Today be a holiday. So what did I do today? I almost got hit in the face with a pigeon. That was basically almost the high point of the day. I was meeting Steven in the city for lunch with himself, Sam, and Dana*. I went to Quincy Adams because I couldn't remember how to get to Wollaston. I'm going to remember, though, because it's $5 to park now. It used to be $3.
Anyhow, the train got there and I'm getting on when this apparently-trapped pigeon comes flapping for hell out the door. It caught my cheek and that was because I ducked seeing the bastard come flying at me. I should have gone home then. Any day that starts with a pigeon nearly hitting you cannot go well.
Lunch was good. I can't remember where we went, but I got a sandwich the size of my head. Half of it is going to be tomorrow's lunch. It also came with a baby green salad with oil and basalmic vinegar dressing. This was only $8.50! Sam wanted pastry after, so we went to Modern. It had a HUGE line, but usually the line there moves quickly. Not this time. We were there forever and then, not as soon as I had taken a bite of my pastry, in come kids with balloons.
Here's where I point out that I am an idiot. I don't carry my EpiPen all the time. I have one in the car some of the time and usually I remember to shove one in my bag. I also don't remember to bring my inhaler all the time. Today was one of those days.
I was halfway to the door when my throat started closing. There were two people, one of which had a balloon, in my way. I choked out "Latex allgery, MOVE!" and the woman, mother I assume, gave me a nasty look, refused to move, and put her arm around the kid like I was personally offending them. I shoved them out of my way. When I was outside, I actually had a few minutes of my throat being completely shut, probably because of those couple minutes I had to spend shoving my way out. The stupid rib I cracked is killing me from all the hacking I did and I'm exhausted now.
Anyhow, what the hell is wrong with people that they don't move when someone says something like that? I know from experience I look like shit when I start having a reaction. I get splotchy and hivey and turn kind of pinky-purple. Why would you continue to block the goddamn door and more still, but your arm around your kid?? I mean, really, do you think I was kidding about any of this so I could shove people?
I've been basically sacked out on the couch since I got home. I talked to my neighbour for a while, but now I'm stretched out watching DwtS**. I'm so glad they've got Pretty Boy Floyd on there even if I don't think he can really dance as well as he talks trash, but I like him. No one's going to beat my girl Leila last season though. She was ripped off with third.
Steven's got shit to do, which means he won't be home for another hour or so. That means bachelor night for me! I'm probably going to drink beer for dinner because I'd have to cook otherwise. If I have a chocolate stout, that's like a full meal with dessert, isn't it? I once justified tequila as veg. He'll probably cook something when he gets home, at least.
So DwtS tonight and tomorrow, new SVU and LA Ink tomorrow, and Pushing Daisies and Bionic Woman Wednesday. There's nothing on Thursdays and I think the fights are back to Friday, so that's what my week looks like because I have no social life.
* for when I forget her name.
** Dancing with the Stars
They treated us to lunch at Chili's, which Steven kind of needed because he found out his father was admitted to the ICU for high carbon monoxide levels, fluid in the lungs, and a collapsed lung. His mother was talking about a DNR, but she's a huge liar, so who knows if that's true or not. He's currently tubed right now and heavily sedated, so Steven didn't go tonight. I think he's going to call/see him tomorrow.
We headed into Harvard after for a quick Lush trip. I got a Big Blue ballistic, a Honeybee ballistic, and Aquamarina facewash. My samples were Coalface, Fig & Leaves (for our friend's little girl and her eczema), Sea Vegetable, and Imperialis moisturiser. I will review them as we use them.
They headed to their game after, so we decided to stick around Harvard for a while. We had Vietnamese for dinner, ice cream after, and walked around for about four hours. It was nice. We both found quite a few shops we'd not been in before. The vintage store I liked so much is still there, too, so I'm going to go back when I have more time.
We're just waiting to go pick up Dawn and Mike now, before we hang out for the rest of the evening. I guess we're going to go out to breakfast tomorrow before they head home anyway since Steven's jury duty was put off for another week. How sucktastic is that? I hate the state.
Why do I crave sugar? I'd sell an organ for a cookie right now.
Dream Machine's open again, as is their snack bar, so we had cheeseburgers and fries. They've got the best burgers on the beach for what's still the best price. Dinner for two was $14.44. We couldn't finish the fries, so we trotted across to the boardwalk so I could feed the gulls.
Because I am 5.
I had a good half dozen people looking at me like I had two heads and a peacock tail growing out my ear for feeding my little flock of Cape Cod chickens out of my fingers. The Hull gulls are quite a bit less tame than the ones down in Newport. They had to be coaxed to take the fries from my fingers. Last time we were in Newport, we had one (I christened him Howard) who shared lunch with us so close that I was honestly a little nervous that he was going to snatch my food out of my mouth while I was chewing. He sat so close and was so enamoured of my lunch that he drooled on me for the better part of the half hour we sat there.
I then had the unfailingly brilliant idea that we should play a round of mini-golf. I am horrendous at mini-golf. My shining moments of acheivement were making a couple holes in 2 strokes and batting the ball through one of those little traps that shoots it out the otherside. Steven managed a hole in one. We didn't keep score because it was painfully obvious that I was going to lose by A LOT.
After that, we got a couple cones of sherbert and walked down the beach in the outgoing surf. The water was quite warm* and I walked up to my knees for a bit. Too bad I'd shaved my legs just before. The salt water stung like a bastard. We grabbed a drink at Dunkins before heading back to the car.
Steven's red as a cardinal and I, pasty white I am, am just a handful of freckles worse for the day. I've actually gotten quite a bit of colour and managed not to get a horrible burn this summer. Every year before this, I've faithfully slathered up with SPF 45 and every single year, I get a terrible burn, sun poisoning, and no colour except peeling. This year, since I managed to lose the 45 and didn't want to buy more since I knew it was in the house, I've been using 15. Let's see how this logic plays out. I'll cheerfully keep using the 15 if it means I don't get an unholy burn.
Ear infection's still raging. I walked into the wall on three seperate occasions and that was before I found the quarter bottle of scotch. The pain's a bit better since I've been using the drops. I'll make an appointment this week to get it looked at, I suppose.
Looks like Steven and I shall be going to the Cape with Beth and Rich on Thursday. I'm going to pop over to Dennisport and take some pictures of the family house and Swan's Lake, where I will eventually be planted. It's a beautiful cemetery. It's set up on a bluff and in the back, you can see the ocean. Wonderful place to spend eternity. I remember it seemed so huge when I was first there at age 10. That was 15 years ago last month, when my Uncle Frank died. Last time I was there was after Thanksgiving, when Steven and I were first dating or maybe we'd just moved in together and I couldn't believe how much smaller it seemed. Still, it's a beautiful place. I'm looking forward to taking some more pictures.
I'm thinking about dyeing my hair fushia in a week or two. I have the worst itch for it and seeing as I'm not especially employed, now might be the time. Would someone like to recommend a dye to me? Last time I did it, I used Tub o' Manic Panic and wasn't too pleased. Is there something better out there now?
God, it's 3am again and I still can't sleep. I hate this.
*By warm, I mean that I can walk in the water without my feet cramping. Steven's considers it inhuman torture. This is approximately 60-62*. From 63*-67* is comfortable for swimming. Steven considers it frakking freezing. Anything about 68* is bathwater. Steven then considers it just goddamn cold.
We're lying in bed, watching something on shark attacks and there was a woman who lost her fiance and was talking about how if she knew he was going to die, she didn't know if she would've tried to live. That got us to talking about who predeceasing whom and so on. I said I hope I died first to which he replied:
"Oh, don't worry. You will."
He says this with a smile on his face. Perhaps I should start worrying?
Just now, we were watching BBC's Robin Hood, where Marian is talking of dying and Robin's kind of sugarcoating the whole thing. Djak gives her the black and white and she looks accusingly at him. That prompted me to ask Steven if I were dying, would he lie to me. He said no, he'd either tell me the truth or just evade the question. I further asked "So, if I were lying on the beach, bleeding out from a shark bite, you wouldn't lie to me about my chances?"
"No, but I'd hope you fight so you could continue to make the world a slight more uncomfortable place for everyone."
This is the man I married. He loves me good.
First, my complex wins at life because they didn't bother clearing the slush when it was still slushy. Now, there's an inch thick layer of ice and they're trying to scrape that off at the loudest volume possible. Haven't you jerks ever heard of sand and salt?
I hid in the house all day, thinking about redesigning my websites. I didn't actually do anything, but thinking about it is half the battle, kind of like I'm still thinking about the rest of my painting. Steven called and mentioned something about dinner, so I crawled into the shower. There's nothing like trying to shave in a lukewarm shower. There's been no hot water this month at all. I went all out and even wore the World's Least Comfortable Underpants with their matching suspenders.
Since the weather is filthy, we decided to just got to Cannoli's up the street. We hadn't been there since we moved and we'd been meaning to try it. They had a prix fixe dinner, so we pulled the requisite amount of money and sat. And sat. And sat. I guess 7pm is one of their busier times. It was better than it could have been, though, since they had a live lounge singer doing Frank Sinatra, Deano, and Bobby Darin covers.
We had salad, Steven had clams oreganato and I had just stuffed clams as appetizers and both decided on the chicken picatta for dinner. Unfortunately, Cannoli's wants me dead and it was full of dried tomatoes and peppers and probably something else. I managed about two bites before my throat and mouth started getting itchy, so I had to flag down the waitress and explain that I hadn't realized their picatta had tomatoes in it. She brought it back and I ended up getting the surf and turf instead, which was really delicious. They had mini-cheesecakes as dessert, so we enjoyed that with a cup of coffee and listened to the singer. All in all, a good night.
Which brings me to here, updating the internets. If I get around to getting to the store tomorrow, I'm going to pick up some lemon and almond extracts so I can abduct Nicki and demand she bake a cake with me.
Everyone see the Emerald Nuts/Robert Goulet ad? I live with that.
Since I'm kind of coming down with something, I figured that I would sort of doze on the couch. I told Steven this since he's occupying the same general space I am.
The actual moment I doze off, special sensors in his brain kick off. Like a lion sensing prey, he knows that I am just entering the realm of comfortable. Then, he pounces. He decided, while I was sleeping, to start to boil a dozen eggs, in hopes their calming sulfur smell would lull me into deeper sleep. Then, he peeled them by what I can only assume was smashing them on the counter repeatedly.
Somehow, I managed to sleep through this. I guess he took this as a personal affront to his failing at quiet, so he decided to drop heavy things, like his briefcase from a fair height. Then, he set about to testing every chair in the house for maximum squeakiness. After that, he popped open a bag of doritoes and started crinkle then loudly enough to wake the dead. Much to his delight, the squeaking/crunching was what finally woke me up. Mission accomplished.
It goes without saying that now that I'm awake, he has sat quietly in his chair for a good half hour. Not squeaking.
I personally love the stuff. My gramma uses it all the time. I remember as a kid begging to her to let me have a little because I loved the smell. It's the same reason that I love Wint-O-Green Lifesavers. After I had knee surgery and before I discovered the wonder that is Ultracet, I used to slather it all over my knee at night because it was the only way I could sleep without Pain. The Ultracet has mostly made it possible to live a life without Pain, but some nights, I need the burning help of BenGay.
It's practically the Balm of Gilead and even though I reek of it now, I am a million times more comfortable. If my back hurts from sleeping on the couch, well, I'll just use more in the morning.
Two and a half years living here and we still do not own a plunger. I did register for one, though.
Took the kid out for ice cream and McD's the other day (because I'm Stepmom of the Year) and we were talking about the hurricane that was coming up the coast. He was all kinds of nervous about it, so I was telling him it had been ages since we'd been directly hit because the water's too cold and plus we had the cold front, etc. The last one I remember was Bob in, I think, 1992 when I wasn't much older than him. Conversation goes as follows:
Me: I wasn't much older than you when Bob hit.
E: Was it scary? Did you die!?
Me: (not thinking, sarcastically) Yes, E, I died.
E: (misses sarcasm, gets very excited) Really!?
Me: No, E, not really.
E: (massively disappointed) Oh. (gives me a a look like I just kicked a puppy with a lolly in its mouth)
E is definitely Steven's son. The following conversation happened sometime later that day:
Me: (yammering on about something I've forgotten, makes a speading/shooing motion with my hands) Blah blah blah PANTIES!
Steven: (repeats gesture) What's that?
Me: (again, sarcastic) That's the international sign for PANTIES.
Steven: (gets excited) Really!?!?
Me: No. Not really.
Steven: Oh. (pause) You know, I would've believed you if you said yes.
pinkandsilver's heard this story 14 times now. I think we all were drinking the margaritas when it was first repeated. Christ on a stick but I'm tired.
I was intending to take a nap after Steven took off for classes, but Laura, who was far more tired than me convinced me to come out with her instead of napping right away. We were 187 kinds of cute today. She picked me up and we headed to Bed, Bath, and Beyond to check out china and silverware for my registry. We had waaaaaay too much fun playing with the scanner and squeeing about adorable sheets and things. We decided that if we were getting married, our registry would be done. I bought Steven bag clips and a thing of not delicious but cute Hello Kitty mints.
After that, we headed to Nantasket Beach to walk Dakota. The three of us walked down from the Red Parrot to almost the end and then started back, when Steven called. We convinced him to head out from UMB and meet us down at the beach. Laura and I walked back to the car and sat there with Dakota for a bit so she could warm up. Steven arrived, wearing his suit, and wanted to get a couple pictures of him on the beach in it (just like Richard Nixon). Laura took a bunch of adorable pictures of us and some funny ones of me bridezillaing. She'll be posting them soon, I think.
I started whining about how I was hungry, so Steven offered to feed us dinner. We picked the Red Parrot, since none of us had ever been there before, except my mom. The special also caught our eye: all you can eat prime rib and crab legs for $14.95. We ate a whole ton, were loud, and generally had a great time. We each had the equivalent of two crabs, plus the prime rib, veggies, and a potato. To quote Laura, we were full of crabby goodness. Then, as we were headed back to the car, we saw some of Steven's students who were all squee because they saw him at the beach, like a real person. It was glorious.
Laura went home to die and we came back here, where Steven died a little too. We watched some TV, and then Steven got his promised blowjob and I got me some really great sex. Then the Simpsons about the brothel was one. All in all, a great night.
Tomorrow, I'm going to do our taxes and make macaroons for Easter. We might also finish our registry and reserve our block of hotel rooms. I'm sleepy now.
So, that clarified, he asks me "Who on the list is healthy?"
"The one you were talking about... Either you or the Canadians."
At this point, I'm completely lost. He cheerfully says that he's going back to sleep and he'll tell me in the morning. At that point, he rolls over and goes back to sleep. Steven really, really wins.