8 Things I'm Thankful for Right Now

1. Larry David and Curb Your Enthusiasm

Ok, so it took 6 seasons and a Seinfeld reunion to get me to come around on this show, but I have to tell you I got the chills seeing the fantastic four back together again. Be warned, you won’t see them in every episode of season 6. Having said that, I do think the entire season is worth watching. Cue it up On Demand if you have HBO. You’ll be glad to know that they don’t avoid cracking jokes about the topics on everybody’s minds and the 45-minute finale is more Seinfeld than Curb. You won’t be disappointed.

2. Chuck Klosterman
I’m reading his new book, Eating the Dinosaur, and it is cracking me up. An excerpt:

"I find that '(Don't Fear) The Reaper' significantly increases my fear of the Reaper. This song is a failure."

Sometimes I wonder if we are the same person, but then I remember that he is a published author, brilliant, hilarious, famous, and cashing checks with more zeros than I’ll ever see in a lifetime. Oh, yeah, and he’s a dude. So now that I know we’re not the same person, I can only assume that he has a backstage pass to my brain (one piece of evidence can be found on page 89). I am growing increasingly envious that I will never be able to articulate my thoughts as well as he does. Is it possible to copyright your thoughts? Maybe I'd be entitled to a cut of those profits...

3. The fact that I never have to watch The Proposal again.
I've heard (and overheard) this movie recommended a LOT lately and since it was kind of a surprise summer hit and Ryan Reynolds is very "smart" looking, I decided to give it a go one night (sans Matt, of course). This movie is EXACTLY why I am so selective about the movie reviews/opinions that I trust and follow. First of all, I'm convinced that most women are unable to tell the difference between a quality romantic comedy (i.e. About a Boy, High Fidelity, Sideways) and one that is completely formulaic. And do women know that there is life outside the romantic comedy? Or do women just assume that a romantic comedy is a “safe” suggestion for another woman?

Seriously, ladies, we can do better than this. This movie was painful. There are several things wrong with it including the fact that it has a score of 48 on Metacritic. Where I come from a 48 = F. So, if you don’t agree with the following then we can’t be friends (but we probably weren’t friends to begin with anyway):
A.) Try to name one funny part, right this instant. You can’t because it wasn’t funny and even if you did laugh, it certainly wasn’t memorable and that’s why you’re drawing a blank.
B.) Ryan Reynolds and Sandra Bullock are not believable as a couple. Not in a movie. Not in real life. Period.
C.) Sandra Bullock should not be acting in the year 2009 let alone STARRING in a romantic comedy that somehow earned over $150 million. Sandra Bullock’s career should’ve began and ended with Speed.

4. Westvleteren 12
What is the most amount of money you would spend on beer? Ok, let me rephrase that. What’s the most amount of money you would spend on something you love? People who don't understand my passion for beer might call me "crazy" for spending $70 on two 12 oz. bottles of beer (plus another $20 to have them shipped from Belgium). So, let me explain. This beer is the best beer in the world according to www.BeerAdvocate.com. Matt had been talking about it for several months, so I decided to splurge for his birthday (or maybe that’s just what I keep telling myself). To make a long story short, I ordered the beer, he was thrilled, and we enjoyed drinking it. We waited about 24 hours before discussing whether or not it was actually worth it. So, what did we think? We agreed that we probably wouldn’t order it again (unless we were in Belgium, of course). We felt that a Chimay would get the job done just as easily, but we did think the overall experience was worth the money. Sometimes an experience is worth the money, but you have to be doing it for yourself not because you want to tell others that you did it (not to say that you can't discuss the experience at all). So before you call me crazy, think of something that you splurged on. Maybe I, personally, wouldn't have splurged on that, but I respect your decision to splurge on something ridiculous if it's something you are truly passionate about.

5. J.J. Abrams
You’d think, since the final season of Lost is looming near, I’d be cursing J.J. right about now, but I should’ve realized this guy is a lot smarter than the person who named him. This year J.J. has succeeded at 2 things: changing my opinion of the Star Trek franchise and reeling me into YET another television series called Flashforward. The final season of Lost hasn’t even begun yet but, J.J., consider the torch passed my friend.

6. The XX
Thank you to my brother, Gerard, who told me to run out and purchase this CD. (Although I’m sure my other brother, Mike, probably made the initial recommendation to Gerard.) I am officially obsessed with their music. But what makes me like them even more is the fact that they are barely out of their teens. They were born the same year as Taylor Swift who, like The XX, writes and sings songs that are simple and romantic. If you've never heard a song by The XX, I'm not making that comparison to scare you off. My point is that the two artists are drastically different. The XX's debut album doesn't even sound like a debut album, let alone a debut album by a group of 20-year-olds. Their voices are mesmerizing and please believe me when I say that their music appeals to both males and females alike. If you're hesitant to buy the entire album, get your feet wet with VCR and Basic Space.

7. Invisalign
So, as my brother and I have established, Invisalign is just a tad different than the ads let on. Don't get me wrong, it's MUCH better than having a mouth full of metal (although some people might ask why I even bother with Invisalign since I've sort of defeated its purpose by telling everyone that I have it), but it did force me to have a perfectly good tooth extracted. For the next few months I will look like a hillbilly (the things we do for vanity), but this baffling piece of technology is slowly convincing me that it was indeed worth the money and I WILL have a perfect smile within the next 2 years.

8. The 12-pack of Shipyard Pumpkinheads sitting in my basement
I finally found a good use for Facebook: ask and you shall receive. I recently posted the following status update on FB: "Anyone know of any liquor stores that still have 12-packs of Shipyard Pumpkinheads?" Within hours I had "friends" checking liquor stores all over MA. I got a few leads and hit the jackpot. I can almost hear the pumpkinhead guy on the label calling my name right now, but alas, you will have to wait patiently until Thursday morning…ahem…afternoon.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Sadly, an era is officially over for me.

I have decided that I can happily live the rest of my life without ever attending another Red Sox game. Ever.

When it comes to Red Sox and Bruins tickets, I was spoiled for much of my childhood. The company my uncle worked for had the sweetest hook-up: 6 seats, 6 rows behind the Red Sox dugout at Fenway Park and 4 center ice seats in the first row of the balcony at (the old) Boston Garden. Once or twice a year, we would get treated to these tickets. My uncle was pretty much Santa Claus, in my opinion.

In between sitting in my uncle’s company’s seats, I would often get invited to games with friends and the ungrateful daughter-of-a-bitch that I was, secretly complained about the terrible seats in the bleachers or the nose-bleed section. For me, just being there was never good enough, as it was/is for so many other people. My uncle’s seats ruined me.

Or did they? Dare I say it, but maybe the Sox winning the World Series ruined everything for me. I know this theory is 5 years old now, but I really haven’t spent much time inside Fenway since they won the World Series in ’04, so it’s taken me a bit longer to come to this conclusion.

For the past 5 years, I’ve only averaged about 1 game per season because we no longer have my uncle’s hook-up and people now have to re-mortgage their houses to take a family of 4 to a game. Our token 1 game per season is usually a gift, one that I am genuinely excited about each and every time I receive it.

My most recent trip to Fenway Park occurred last Friday night when the Sox played Tampa Bay. Driving south on 93 towards Fenway, Matt and I contemplated driving all the way in, parking somewhere and taking the T or parking somewhere and taking a cab the rest of the way in. Because I despise public transportation, Matt immediately ruled that option out; however, much to his surprise (and even more so my own), I was having a rational moment. Even better, it was a financially rational moment, at that! If I had a nickel for every time I’ve made a good money decision, I’d have 10 cents.

Since we were making pretty good time, I suggested we park at Sullivan Station and take the T to Kenmore. As soon as we descended the stairs at Sullivan, I noticed that someone had thrown up Red Sox all over the boarding area and I had to fight the urge to turn around. We were, literally, the only 2 people NOT wearing Red Sox paraphernalia. Of course, the non-conformist in me does this on purpose. But I STILL can’t understand why more people don’t follow suit. There is no need to prove that you are a Red Sox fan in the one area that is so blatantly predominantly Red Sox fans. You wouldn’t be caught dead wearing a band t-shirt to a concert, would you? (If you just answered “yes” then, I’m sorry, but we have to break up.)

Clearly the vomit has the same destination that we do, so we know that we will be surrounded by vomit for the duration of our evening. It is going to be a long night. As we deboard the train and make our way towards Landsdowne St., I wonder why I didn’t sell the damn tickets for a profit. I begin to think of a million other places I’d rather be: sitting in traffic somewhere, waiting in line at the post office, listening to Laid by James, driving around in a Mustang, watching Scary Movie, doing shots of Jagermeister at Rev Rock Bar with douchebags wearing Ed Hardy shirts…

Then I remember something. Of the 5 games that I’ve been to in the past 5 years, I’ve probably only spent a total of 9 innings inside the park. Seriously, 9 out of 45innings. I know that is not something I should be proud of. In fact, I suddenly feel an overwhelming sense of guilt as I think of all the people who would appreciate these tickets so much more than me.

So, why would I continuously spend money on tickets or accept tickets from someone else who spent that money when I know that a premature exit is planned? Well, the reason I go is because I have such fond memories of attending Red Sox games when I was younger and also because I’m having a hard time accepting the fact that the Fenway experience has changed since 2004. The reasons I leave early vary from game to game. It might be that the weather was crappy or the Sox were getting crushed or I realized I just dropped $9 on a terrible light beer when I could’ve had a delicious Belgian beer for the same amount, if not less, across the street. But, most often, the deciding factor is the clientele at Fenway Park. That’s right, the fans. Like New Year’s Eve and St. Patty’s Day, a Red Sox game (Friday or Saturday night, especially) may as well be amateur night out. I swear these fans did not exist in 2003 when I could actually get a seat on the green line and order a beer at a Kenmore Square bar an hour before the first pitch. Some people might argue that I’ve simply grown too old for the Fenway scene. But I disagree. The Fenway Park of today is not the same beloved Fenway Park from the 80s and 90s. It has morphed into the antithesis of my “scene.”

And here’s why…

1. Overpriced tickets, food & beer.
Worse: Missing an entire inning to waiting in line for overpriced food & beer.

2. Uncomfortable seats.
Worse: Uncomfortable seats with an obstructed view.

3. Waiting a painfully long time to use the bathroom.
Worse: Getting to the front of the line and realizing that peeing your pants would’ve been more sanitary than peeing in one of the stalls.

4. Being amongst a noticeably non-diverse crowd.
Worse: Being amongst a noticeably non-diverse crowd rooting for a noticeably non-diverse professional baseball team.

5. Red Sox face paint.
Worse: Red Sox tattoos.

6. The “Yankees Suck” chant.
Worse: The “Yankees Suck” chant when the Yankees aren’t in town.

7. Sweet Caroline.
Worse: The Dropkick Murphys.

8. Pink hats.
Worse: Groups of girls pretending to be Sox fans when really they just want to chat and have men admire them.

9. Dudes wearing shorts with tube socks.
Worse: Ya-dudes.

Who knows, maybe I’ll change my mind after having a few kids. When you have kids, you’re better off following the opposite schedule that Matt has devised: bring the kids early for batting practice, try to get a few autographs and then bail after the 3rd inning. For now, I’m much more content watching the Sox from the comfort of my own couch. Watching from home, I actually see more of the game and I don’t have to spend a dime if I don’t want to. The best part, however, is that I can control the quality of the people that surround me.

Petco, where the idiots go.

Humans love errands. We always seem to be doing errands. For the most part I don’t mind doing errands. But there is one that I despise.

I am convinced that on any given day there are only 2 people working at Petco: the “cashier” and the “cricket fetcher.” I have no idea if these are the industry terms, but this is how I will refer to “them” in this post. And the reason I’ve put “them” in quotes is because I’m not entirely sure if I’m referring to 1 or 2 people. On more than one occasion, I’ve had reason to believe that the cashier and the cricket fetcher might actually be the same person. Why? Because I can’t ever recall seeing the cashier and the cricket fetcher together in the same room. I’ve heard the cashier page the cricket fetcher to the register and I’ve heard the cashier tell the impatient customers that he is “waiting” for the cricket fetcher, but I have yet to see them together in the same room.

Regardless of whether Petco employs 1 or 2 people and regardless of which Petco store I visit, I am pretty much guaranteed to have an uber-annoying retail experience. I’ve conducted some research and it appears to be a chain-wide problem that spans Petcos from Woburn to Nashua. I seriously believe that the agenda for the first day of employee training at Petco must be titled “How to evoke frustration from customers.” For those of you who do not have pets or buy your pet food elsewhere, I cannot think of a single store that compares to Petco in terms of ineptitude. So consider yourself lucky.

Here is a description of an average trip to Petco. Let the rage begin.

I enter the store and immediately look over at the cash register area to see a) how many people are - or, are NOT, in Petco’s case - working on the register, and b) how many customers are waiting in line. Typically I will see 1 of 3 scenarios: a) there are no customers in line and there are no employees in sight, b) there is a huge line and only one cashier (who may or may not be waiting for the cricket fetcher in which case the line is not moving), or c) there are several customers roaming around the checkout area looking for an employee to ring them up. None of these scenarios is good. Whether it’s a, b or c, I immediately want to exit the store. But, then I remember that walking out would mean Little Jerry wouldn’t have dinner on the table – er, floor – that night. That has 51A written all over it. So, I reluctantly continue my trek to purchase dog food, trying to be optimistic, hoping that today will finally be the day that I get out of this black hole of retail in a timely fashion.

I have a mental blueprint of the 3 different branches I frequent. In each of these 3 stores, I know exactly which aisle I have to go down to locate Jerry’s brand of dog food. I make a beeline for that aisle and grab the food, which, conveniently, is a brand that is NOT available in grocery stores. I then make my way to the register wondering which scenario I will be presented with today. I arrive to find option b) a huge line and only one cashier. Typically, I am a patient customer, but since this is Petco and this is par for the course, I exhale. Loudly. I check my watch, and mentally give my impatience about 5 minutes before it implodes. The cashier is not ringing. He is just standing there. I breathe in again, this time through my nose. The line is 6 people deep at this point.

I take in everything going on around me. I overhear one customer telling another customer that some crickets had escaped somewhere out back. Ah, a cricket crisis. That might explain why the cricket fetcher is tied up, but why is our cashier just standing there?!?! He must be waiting for some crickets for the customer in front of him. I seem to have underestimated the demand for crickets these days. I look around, hoping that if I stare long enough at a register, it will magically open up. Why do they even have more than one register at this store?

My thoughts are distracted. Today I seem to have gotten in line behind Laura the Loud-Talker. I see that she is purchasing a 2-ton bag of ferret food and barking out orders to her 2 “tween”-age daughters. Miley and Demi are both trying to pick out dog treats from the “treat bar” (picture a salad bar for dogs, except it's unhealthy) which is only a few feet away – definitely NOT far enough to warrant the inappropriate decibel level at which Laura is choosing to speak.

I stand there wondering if there really is a cricket crisis going on or whether these people just find pleasure in pushing their customers to the limit. Maybe I’m being Punk’d? No, that show went off the air for good, right? Maybe the employees are out back gathered around a TV, watching us on the tape, eating popcorn and laughing at us. Maybe there will be some fabulous prize for the customer who exhibits the most outlandish reaction. I consider this for a few moments. My thoughts are distracted again by Laura’s booming voice. Then I notice that the cashier is completing the cricket transaction. I realize that, once again, I didn’t see the cricket-fetcher. I was hoping to catch him morphing into his alter-ego, the cashier.

Laura is getting on my last nerve. She is talking SO loudly. At least I don’t have to live with her like Miley and Demi over there. Poor kids. I consider running out the door, dog food in hand. No. I am not a criminal. I consider pushing everyone out of the way and just announcing that I need immediate assistance. You know, like old people do. It always works for them.

Finally, Laura gets to the register. I am on deck. I only have to listen to her for a few more minutes. I watch as she puts her 2-ton bag of ferret food on the counter. She owns a fucking ferret. Who owns a fucking ferret?

Laura, Miley and Demi leave. I put the dog food on the counter. The cashier says “sorry about the wait.” I lie and say “no problem.”

I am out the door and in my car. I sigh and text my brother “Who owns a fucking ferret?” His reply: “John Kimble.” I laugh. Hard. I am lightened up. At least until Jerry runs out of food again.

Is Today Over Yet?

I love Guinness.
I love Magner's Cider (FYI - it’s actually called Bulmer’s in Ireland).
I love Irish pubs (both the Irish AND the American kind).
I love an Irish accent.
I love that my grandparents are from Ireland.
I love that I still have extended family in Ireland.
I love fish ‘n chips and I even enjoy a boiled dinner once awhile.

I have traveled to Ireland and I love everything about it.

But I hate St. Patty’s Day. If New Year’s Eve is “amateur night out,” as my brother refers to it, then St. Patty’s Day is “amateur day out.”

If you’re ever interested in making a quick buck, then all you have to do is bet someone that I won’t be at the St. Patty’s parade in Southie. Because. I. Won’t. Ever. Be. There. Just like I won’t ever sick off on St. Patty’s Day, go to an Irish pub and drink my first Guinness at 8:00 a.m. And it’s not because of the alcohol (you don’t know me if that’s your theory), it’s because of the people that come out of the woodwork on this particular day.

Something else you won’t see me doing on St. Patty’s Day is wearing green. I do not like wearing green on St. Patty’s Day for the same reason I do not like wearing red on Valentine’s Day, orange and black on Halloween, red and green on Christmas and sports paraphernalia to sporting events. In fact, I purposely did not wear red to the BHS Super 8 game on Sunday. People ask me all the time why I am like this. They like to give me a hard time and tell me that I’m a loser, a hater, I’m no fun, I’m disrespectful, I have no holiday/team/school spirit. Frankly, I’m tired of explaining myself. It has nothing to do with any of those things, it’s just this strange thing that I do simply because I don’t like being told what to wear. It sounds childish, I know, but you can’t be mad at me for not wanting to follow the crowd. There’s nothing else I can say except that I’ve never been one for uniformity.

So, on this St. Patty’s Day, what do I plan to do?

Well, I woke up this morning and had to be reminded by the newscasters on channel 5 that it was, indeed, St. Patty’s Day. For some reason I thought the holiday had already passed. I remembered being in Boston on Sunday when it sure FELT like St. Patty’s Day with all the riff-raff from the parade walking around in their ridiculous costumes. So, as I sat watching TV and eating Frosted Mini Wheats this morning, I planned out a fairly regular day in my head: work, workout, pick up my car in Peabody, go to the post office, go home, eat dinner, watch some shows, go to bed.

It wasn’t long before Matt came down the stairs and I promptly made fun of him for donning a green shirt to work today. After finishing my breakfast, I turned to my own closet and began cursing my winter wardrobe and the 5-man rotation I’ve gotten myself into. I refused to even LOOK at the one green sweater that I own and I carefully selected a raspberry colored sweater and brown pants. I wasn’t all that pleased with the outfit, once I put it on, but I WAS pleased that it wasn’t green. And that was enough for me. I packed up my things and headed towards the door, grabbing one of my 8 winter coats along the way. I jumped into the passenger seat of Matt’s car and we began our carpool to work (my car is in the shop today).

As we listened to terrible morning shows and weaved through some traffic, Matt suddenly turned to me and said “Hey, you’re wearing green!” There was no need for me to look down. Using my peripheral vision, it was very easy for me to see that I was completely ensconced in green. Yes, the coat that I had absent-mindedly chosen to wear to work today was bright, kelly green. I think I managed an “ugh” and Matt responded with a “yessssss!” And thanks to my peripheral vision, I’m pretty sure I saw a smile and a fist pump as well.

I Never Want to Believe Stereotypes, But...

If you were to ask me whether or not I’ve been to “the south,” I’m not sure I’d know how to answer that. Yes, I've traveled to Maryland to see the Sox play the Orioles at Camden yards and I visited my sister-in-law when she attended the University of Delaware, but is the northernmost subregion of "the south" really the true south? I understand Mason and Dixon had to draw the line somewhere (pun intended!), but these 2 states don't count in my book.

And neither does Florida, the southernmost subregion of the south which we've been to a number of times, most recently during February vacation. I like to refer to it as "the blue hair state." Although we’ve vacationed there multiple times, I still have very mixed feelings about referring to this state as a “vacation spot.” I will admit that my opinion might be a bit skewed because I've never actually been to hotspots like Miami or Disney, but, in my opinion, the warm weather is the main attraction. Let me be clear that I am NOT complaining about being on vacation, I’m merely challenging the idea of Florida as a vacation spot, as part of “the south,” as a state and, yes, I’m questioning it’s overall worth.

So, aside from the warm weather, what else is there? Well, I guess I could say that we did get to see the Red Sox practice in Spring Training but, man, did we feel bad for the players. I’d love to know where all the players stay and what they do when they aren’t “working” in February and March. Everyday they must wonder what genius decided to make Florida, of all places, the home of MLB Spring Training.

Trying to stay positive, though, I guess I could also say that the restaurant we went to for lunch (Joe’s Crab Shack, a southern chain) had 2-for-1 Blue Moon drafts. It was just after noon when we sat down and I ordered a Blue Moon and the waitress TOLD ME, not asked me, that they were 2-for-1 so she’d bring me 2. I swear to you. I guess some dreams really do come true in Florida.

Total positive qualities = 3 (better than I anticipated at the start of this post).

Enter the negatives.

Old, Fat or C.) All of the Above?
Even Matt's parents who are retired and spend a month down in Florida every winter forewarned us that everyone down there is either old or obese. I am not lying when I tell you that before we arrived there, Matt's parents were the youngest people for miles. And when we did arrive there, we had to drive an hour and fifteen minutes to Fort Myers to find a "scene" where Matt and I actually fit in. (Note: It’s possible that our drive could have been shorter if we weren’t surrounded by geriatric drivers. You all know what this is like. And, yes, by the looks of it, Florida undoubtedly holds the record for used Cadillac sales.)

So, this old/fat population in Florida is somewhat confusing to me and I’ll tell you why. As soon as the weather gets warm up here in Mass, we immediately see skimpier clothes, packed beaches, toned bodies, etc. Usually you can’t turn a corner without seeing some kind of hotness. So, by that regard, shouldn’t Florida be the same way year round? I’m stumped.

Floridians: Real or Myth?
During our travels, we found ourselves asking the following question: Is anyone actually born in Florida? Virtually everyone you meet is a transplant and of course you can't escape New Englanders when you're there. The people renting the bottom floor of the house we stayed in were from Connecticut and our waitress at the diner was from Maine (I'll get to the diners in a minute). And we saw more Michigan license plates than we saw Florida license plates. I’m not sure what that’s all about.

Strip Malls
In the words of Matt’s father, “Florida is just one big strip mall.” What baffles me is that these strip malls don’t even contain anything worth getting out of the car for. It would be better if it were one big strip club.

Did Someone Throw Up Pepto Bismol?
Just when you wonder if there’s anything cheesier than pink and peach buildings, you remember the dolphin motif. For some reason, Bermuda can get away with colored buildings. Maybe because they don’t pair them with dolphins. Or maybe it’s just the awesome British influence that allows them to do colored buildings in a very tasteful manner. Florida just can’t get it right. They are completely class-less when it comes to decorating sense. How hard is to mimic the décor of coastal locations like Nantucket or Martha’s Vineyard? Can I get some natural ocean hues, please? Maybe some nautical stripes? How about an Adirondack chair? Do these things not exist in the south?

You’re Florida, Not Italy.
I have never been to Italy, but I’ve heard that Italians can spot an American a million miles away because all they have to do is look for someone trying to order a coffee “to go.” I didn’t know this until recently, but coffee to go is very much frowned upon in Italy. And apparently Florida is taking some cues from Italy because you have to drive miles to find a coffee shop anywhere in Florida. There are plenty of diners, though. You can sit in a diner all day, if you please, but don’t expect to get a quick cup of joe a short distance away. (Note: I refused to go into the one Dunkin Donuts that we passed while in Florida. Instead, I agreed to try McDonald’s Newman’s iced coffee for the first time ever and it wasn’t bad except they douched it in milk which is exactly why I HATE getting a cup of coffee anywhere that doesn’t allow me to prepare it myself.)

So, why no coffee to go? I’m pretty sure the old people had something to do with this because A.) they have all the time in the world, so nothing is ever quick with them and B.) they worry that if they drink too much coffee, they will be awake until 6 pm.

The New Addiction: Shell Collecting
Or maybe it’s the Bingo of the South because apparently you ain’t cool unless you collect shells. While most people bring towels to the beach, shell collectors bring makeshift treasure scoops (attached to long poles so the old folks don’t have to bend over). I suppose this is a step up from the metal detector, which we also saw a few of. I used to be embarrassed about clipping coupons, but I wouldn’t be caught dead metal detecting (I think I just made that term up). It’s not just the act of metal detecting that’s embarrassing, but it’s the whole idea behind it. Metal detectors cost upwards of $50. I’m sorry, but you cannot tell me that these things pay for themselves.

Pickup Trucks
Need I say more?

Total negative qualities = 7

So, would you say that I’ve been to “the south?” All I know is that if this is the pseudo-south, then I have ZERO interest in EVER traveling to the real south.

Bret, Haven't You Been Paying Attention to the Cup Roster?

Let's face it, decent television shows come and go, but it's not often that a truly funny, laugh-out-loud television show comes along. In fact, I'd say we've had an 11-year drought.

Call me a pessimist, but I tend to watch new shows carefully because I often fear that it will only be a matter of time before a decent show starts to suck. I have learned that expectation can be very powerful that way. And, so, that is why I have done my best NOT to get my hopes up too high for the second season of Flight of the Conchords. However, after only 2 episodes, there's no use in continuing to watch this show carefully. This is THE funniest television show since Seinfeld (how's that for expectation?). Take 2 not-so-bright struggling musicians from New Zealand + 1 idiot manager + 1 crazy female fan and hilarity most definitely ensues. If you do not have HBO, you must call your cable provider immediately.

Last Sunday’s episode, called "The Teacup," is my favorite episode to date. In the opening 60-second scene, Bret and Jemaine say the word "cup" 13 times proving that something as basic as repetition can be hilarious. The two argue about the fact that Bret, without telling Jemaine, went out and purchased a second teacup for "two dollars and seventy-nine" so that they would no longer be forced to share 1 teacup and adhere to the “cup roster.”

A cup roster? This is exactly why I love this show. Just like Seinfeld, FOTC gets me thinking about random life occurrences that I wouldn't normally put any thought into. I laughed about the cup roster for days and began thinking about my own unwritten, unspoken life “rosters.” Sadly, I only came up with a few, one of them being the shower roster because we only have 1 shower. I should be happy, I guess, that there's little need for sharing in our house, but it's sad in a way because our society has grown so accustomed to having multiples of everything. One of anything just ain't enough, is it?

So, yes, I kind of struck out with rosters, but thinking about rosters led me to also consider the random “lineups” in our lives. Whether we know it or not, we all have our own favorite things - a favorite teacup (or coffee mug in my case), a favorite t-shirt, a favorite pair of jeans, or a favorite pair of underwear. Our favorites are always the most easily accessible whether they are at the top of the drawer, the front of the cabinet or the front of the closet. This also means they get used the most. Sure a mug is easy to rinse out and reuse day after day, but clothes become dirty and stinky, so once you begin running out of your favorites, you have 2 options: you can either A.) do a load of laundry or B.) begin wearing your second-rate backups. Depending upon how often you do laundry or dishes or what have you, backups can go unused, collecting dusts for weeks, maybe even months. A backup may have been a favorite at one point, but, as newer, better things come along to replace them, the backups get downgraded to the back of the cabinet or closet and therefore move further down the lineup.

Eventually the backups become pointless, yet they remain our backups. For some strange reason we have a hard time letting them go.

The backup coffee mugs are typically the ones that are mismatched or maybe they are chipped or cracked or too small to support your ever-growing caffeine addiction. Or maybe you just feel bad getting rid of one because a colleague bought it for you 6 Christmases ago. Your backup t-shirts are likely discolored, stretched out or have crusty, yellow armpits stains. Your backup jeans may have shrunk a bit in the wash or maybe they are "so last season" making you a tad embarrassed to sport them, but reluctant to get rid of them because you shelled out over $200 for them. Your backup underwear is all the way at the back of the drawer, probably has holes in it or maybe the elastic is a bit too tight or maybe they're brand new, but you either think they're too sexy for everyday wear or you don't feel confident enough to wear them. And you wonder why you keep them because you do a load of laundry often enough to wash and wear your 5 favorite pairs over and over again.

So why do we have backups at all? Why don't we just throw these things away? Or better yet, when we find our favorite things, why don't we get enough to make an entire lineup of our favorites?

I guess that would be like having a lineup that consists of 9 Mannys and we all know no one can afford that.

Random Thoughts to Bide My Time

Yes, I know. It's been awhile. Once again this proves how unproductive I am when I have too much free time on my hands. Since it's the middle of winter, there isn't a lot going on, but I figured I'd at least provide a few tidbits until a real post comes along...

On Sports...
Football is by far the most enjoyable sport I hate. In December, I suddenly became a big Wes Welker fan. Even though I don't pay much attention to the games, I realized that, although white, he is likeable and he's a solid player. (Funny, these are the same reasons that people like Youk and I can't stand Youk.) I got goosebumps one day hearing a soundbite from a game earlier this season in which you could overhear one of the referees say to Welker, "it's really fun watching you play ball." I also liked Welker's wise-ass comments to the media when they asked dumb questions about a hard hit that he took earlier in the year. I guess it helps that he's also kinda good-looking.

It is no secret that I hate football, but I make an effort because Matt loves it so much. And, as I've said before, what's not to like about Sunday get-togethers and trudging down to Beerworks with Matt in the middle of a snowstorm to "watch the game" while we eat sweet potato fries and sip on a Grinch? So, of course as soon as I find something to like about football, what happens? Well, the Pats go 11-5 and don't make the playoffs. And now we are missing out on the best part of the football season - Saturday night games!

How many days until opening day for the Sox? Oh and by the way, (I'm with Gerard on this one) did they have to go and sign 2 more white dudes???

On TV...
For the first time ever we're running into the issue of having 3 shows to watch at the same time and anyone who has Comcast knows that this is not possible with the DVR. We are going to have to find a way to prioritize Monday and Tuesday nights. Besides Marissa, did anyone else see The Bachelor and the crazy scenes for the upcoming season?!?!?! I CANNOT WAIT!

On Movies...
I cancelled our Netflix subscription a few months back because there was NOTHING worth renting and we were wasting way too much time and money watching terrible movies. One major downfall to this is that I now feel out of the loop when it comes to new DVD releases. Once in awhile we take advantage of the RedBox at Hannaford, but the choices are limited. Ironman = Entertaining but overrated. Baby Mama = Unwatchable. Had to shut it off. Hancock = Entertaining. The 90-minute running time is an added bonus. The Strangers = Entertaining but forgettable.

During vacation we ventured out to the movie theater for the first time since The Dark Knight and saw Slumdog Millionaire and The Wrestler. Both movies I highly recommend. I'm reluctant to see Benjamin Button because of the 3 hour running time. (Calling it "Benjamin Button" reminds me of my mother who always shortens the titles of movies, not because they are too long but because she usually doesn't remember them. I fear that I am inheriting her poor memory.) As the Academy Awards near, I will venture out to the theater a bit more. Other movies on my list include Gran Torino, Revolutionary Road (that will be a ticket for one), Milk, Doubt and The Reader. Has anyone seen any of these yet? Any other recommendations?

On Music...
Every few weeks I usually find one song that constantly sticks in my head. Right now that song is Snow Patrol's Crack the Shutters. I think it's pretty safe to say that I am obsessed. I NEED to see them live the next time they come around because the last time I saw them their encore got cut off as a result of the stupid curfew and I never got to hear Hands Open.

Some other CDs I'm enjoying right now (thanks to my uber-cool, self-proclaimed hipster brothers) include Ra Ra Riot, Fleetfoxes and Wolf Parade. Still, my 3 favorite albums of 2008 (in no particular order) were Coldplay, Vampire Weekend and The Airborne Toxic Event. I'd still love to know FNX's top 100 of 2008, but I missed the on-air countdown and apparently this year they decided not to post the list on their website??? Yet they have no problem posting pics of themselves being uber poseurs.

On Books...
I got the Twilight series for Christmas and recently began reading the first book. (Sorry but I have a thing for young adult fiction.) I'm only about half way through it at this point but I have to say that I don't think I've ever read a book that is so seductive without being overtly sexual. It is peculiar. Yet I enjoy it. I actually recently had a lengthy dream in which I was Bella Swan. But I'm not so sure I'd want my teenage daughter reading it and basing her high school relationship/s on it.

Some random crap that you may or may not care about...
I am pissed because The Airborne Toxic Event is playing the Paradise the same weekend that we chaperone the ski trip, which every year I say I'm never doing again. Next year I'm keeping my promise!

After 8 years as a blonde, I went back to being a brunette on December 6th. I have to tell you that I am loving it.

We never did get a Christmas tree. I can assure you that it is the first and LAST time we will ever go without a tree. We did have a great Christmas with our families. And, no, I'm not bitter that my brother, Mike, received the most gifts from "Santa."

I am SO ready to move out of our place and away from our neighbors. (We've been having ongoing issues with noise next door.) Although I will miss Beerworks dearly, it is time to move on. Unfortunately for us, it is not a good time to sell. However, we are passively looking (that means online searches only) in Medford, Malden, Melrose, Woburn and Wakefield. Random, I know, but let us know if you hear/see anything.

On The New Year...

I hate resolutions and I hate all the people crowding my gym and taking my machines. Who are you kidding? You won't be here 6 weeks from now.

Maybe I should resolve to stop hating shit.