Sunday Dinner.

Who: My mom, dad, Gma and I.
What: Slow baked chicken, mashed potatoes, broccoli. Mixed drinks varied.
Conversation:

Gma: Well, the people at the inn (referring to the assisted living place she lives) were talking about this one couple sitting on a bench on the third floor. Evidently it was too much for her to handle and she had to go to the hospital. And then there was that one girl, well she waited a week until George's wife died before she moved in with him. I don't mean moving in like moved into his room, but moved into his life. She was married twice before too. I swear, some people. And at all ages.

Mom: It was nice of her to wait a week.

Gma: Imagine if we had a wedding at the inn! Well, you hear about it all of the time, people in their 90s getting married. I guess you never know.

After this, my Gma talks for 2 more hours about people we don't know and pretend to.

Gma: Who was that girl that lived on that street? Ya know, the one that married the police chief? I had him in school. It's nice when they grow up and do something. Sometimes they do nothing, ya know.

Mom: Or when they grow up and end up in jail.

Gma: Oh I feel bad I stopped visiting that boy. He moved from jail to jail.....Remember that boy who lived on Cricket Lane's wife? She was pretty?

Dad: Of course. Soares?

Gma (looking shocked): You know her?! Oh my god. Wow. What a world. How do you know her???

The following also happens:

Dad singing about something. Maybe he is making up a song about the cat that goes "Raggy boy Raggy boy Raggy boy" or about taking out the trash "Taaaaaaking out the trassssh".

Gma incredulously exclaims "What's that? I've never heard of that!" Yes, Gma, you HAVE heard about caesar salad.

My mom has a mini laughing fit.

Sunday dinner is delicious.

A Day in the Life of the Squirrel.

It has occurred to me  that while I'm on "sabbatical", and actually have the time to write, I unfortunately am not being exposed to as much crazy stuff as I had been in the city. In the last few months, I haven't had my cab driver serenade me with his flutes as he drove me home (very strange time), nor have I worked a show where the trumpet player strips down to his birthday suit (traumatizing). So what happens in the country? Good question. Well, here are some highlights....I had to stop for some wild turkeys to cross the street on my way to work the other day. Last night, I double checked to make sure my cat was inside because I heard coyotes howling. And this morning, my dad and I talked about how there aren't as many titmouses at the feeder this year. Real exciting stuff people. Yeah.. I have been pondering ways to spice things up. Maybe I could follow my cat around for a day or a neighborhood squirrel. Really get into their heads. Report back...

Thank goodness my A Day In the Life Of the Squirrel has momentarily been interrupted by me getting out of town for a couple of days. Mini-New England tour, hey now. NH with the parents then back to my original city, Boston, for some hang time with my sibs.  Highlights/low-lights as followed:

1. The Lobster Boat Restaurant in Merrimack, NH. Lobster risotto, lobster roll, Cabernet. Two nights in a row. Enough said.
2. Sitting by a pool and reading magazines hands down beats sitting at home looking for jobs and pondering life paths.
3. Splitting three chocolate heart donuts from Dunkin in 24 hours. They are surprisingly amazing.
4. Taking my brother's dog for a walk. I'm a fan of all animals, but I really don't have the dog thing down. I couldn't get the harness on the poor guy correctly so he kept escaping and I'd have to grab him as I held his poop in my other hand. Definite low-light.
5. The Estelle concert in Cambridge held both high and low lights.
   
Highs include:

• The keyboardists in all of the acts actually were playing. And doing a damn fine job. So many times I've watched shows and the keyboardist is literally pressing one button and just looking cool. Every time I've seen that, I'm like that dude/dudette is totally doing nothing. They have one of those keyboards from childhood that automatically plays an entire song by touching one key. You're not fooling anyone, buddy.
• The show was held at the Regattabar Jazz Club in the Charles Hotel which made eating at the divine Henrietta's Table (also inside the hotel) quite easy. Hello, cheese!
• The opening acts got it going on.
• Estelle's voice is effortless. She is very charismatic. And she makes me wants to buy a flapper-esque dress and shimmy.

Lows include:

• The show was held inside the Regattabar meaning that everyone was seated even though there were times when they should be gettin' down.
• The crowd was talking and rude and deserved a good slap.
• The waitress gave me back the wrong change.
• A lady walked in on me in the bathroom and then proceeded to talk to me instead of shutting the door. SHUT THE DAMN DOOR. The lady was also one of the opening acts "nanas" and kept doing crazy things throughout the entire show.

Despite holding a conversation while trying to pee, it was a nice mini-getaway. Now I'm back and am about to go outside to find some animals to follow around....

Lowell, MA/Whitney's Dead/Grammy Awards.

I kicked it old school style with two of my best friends from childhood, Lauren (aka Du) and Michaela. Du's the one that I briefly stopped talking to in elementary school because I was jealous that she didn't need glasses anymore (not a great moment for me). And Michaela and I started a Playa's (see: Player) Club (cuz you gotta love what you do not who you do!...ah?) in high school complete with a legit website. What were we thinking?

Anyway.

So, Michaela and I drove up to see Du in Lowell, MA. Both of us commented on how we'd never been to Lowell and if it wasn't for our friend, we probably would never have gone. It wasn't so bad though. Du has a most kickass condo, straight out of HGTV magazine or something. We started out the evening munching on some of Du's homemade guac and sipping down a glass of wine. It appears that one glass is enough for me to be tipsy these days. Lame sauce. We then ventured out into the "city", hitting up a restaurant/bar that is half Lizzy Borden house and half sports bar. Tell me how that makes sense! Our waiter, Steve, told us the specials, including one that has kobe fish in it, a member of the salmon family. I said how that's a good family to be a part of and Steve concurred that the kobe could be the salmon's nephew or something. True story.  We split appetizers and tried our luck at cocktails involving cucumber. The conversation touched upon long lost high school people that we don't really care about and our upcoming reunion. For example, the girl I let borrow my flute that never gave it back to me. Is the possibility of demanding her to give me back my flute enough reason to attend? Probably not. We were smack dab in the middle of one of those deep "and this is why you are like that" convos, when Steve came over, interrupting to tell us about Whitney's unfortunate passing. Steve was kind of a strange guy so it was no surprise that his delivery was kind of odd. Du had her hands up to cover the "are you dead serious" face that she was pulling. She later mentioned that she hoped Steve didn't think she was crying. We agreed that like the great Michael Jackson's death, we wouldn't forget where we were when we heard the news about Whitney. When MJ died, I was supervising a middle school field trip to Dorney Park (aka hell) in Pennsylvania. I had Swine flue (dead serious) and my co-worker was pregnant, so we were barely alive ourselves when we received the terrible news. To top it off, the bus broke down on the ride home. 

Anyway, here are a couple of my thoughts/memories/whathaveyou regarding Whitney:

• I went to a sleepover in the early '90s where my friends and I had a heated debate over Whitney vs. Mariah. I still sucked my thumb and didn't sleep that night because I was afraid I'd be caught. *Please note, I do not have to worry about such things anymore, thankfully.
• On more than two occasions in the last couple of months I definitely sang along to "I Will Always Love You" as I drove around town. I think I was listening to Bedtime Magic or some crap.
• Who doesn't want to feel the heat with somebody? Oooh-ooh!

Completely off subject, my 22 month old niece is a blues baby. She plays the harmonica and can do more on my guitar than I can. She also likes to attack me, finding much joy in tickling and jumping on me. I'm not sure how I feel about this.

And the Grammys. 

• I enjoy: L.L.Cool J, Bruno Mars, Sir Paul (though his latest song is questionable), and Adele very much.
• Coldplay is still pretty boring to me.
• Taylor Swift is terrible.
• Chris Brown. Well, people hate on him big time and understandably so. Beating of the ladies is not cool. At the same time, a lot of people who are "talented" are not necessarily amazing people. Maybe we should have a separate award show for the "nicest" person or perhaps the "the least offensive".
• The word "grammy" is kind of strange, very grandma-like. 

Week in Review: Productivity/Subbing/Cats/Sports/Random.

I'm very stoked that I had a most productive week. I did some work on my book Raw Meat and Other Ways to Get Your Heart Broken (oh, just wait for it!), subbed four times, and paid off two credit cards. Moving home felt like a setback but I really think I'm going to be in a magnificent state when I venture off to the city again (which city is still undecided). I feel like I'm preparing a big meal and come spring/summer, I'll be completely cooking with propane and the food will be to die for! My thought process makes sense, I swear.

So, fifth graders are officially as tall as me. That's pretty pathetic. I've had a good time subbing except today when kids were talking about cats vs. dogs and the dogs kept being favored. Why do we need to pick favorites? After all these pro-dog speeches, I'd lead the class in a round of applause, and then tell them that while I appreciate what they wrote, I cannot agree with their words. Ha. I'm sick of people saying cats aren't loyal, aren't tough, aren't loving, and are basically terrible. I guess they never met Inky, my cat who got his jar wired before Kanye was even on the scene, or Mittens, my fine feline who had to get her leg amputated. Now those are some badasses. Slash also was a good guy, though totally off his rocker. And Rags, oh he is the Dean Martin of cats. So sweet! Rags also thinks that he is a dog. Aaaand, I sound like a crazy cat lady. Well, shocker.

Anyhoo, I was quite sad to see the Patriots lose on Sunday but I'm not going to stop being a fan. They did a fine job getting to the Bowl in the first place, shows they have a lot of heart. I'm kind of a sucker when it comes to sports, and also award shows, because I feel so sad for the non-winner (loser sounds too harsh). I also feel kind of bad for Gisele. She's getting a lot of heat for saying, “My husband can not f****ing throw the ball and catch the ball at the same time. I can’t believe they dropped the ball so many times.” Throwing people under buses is obviously a no, but I think she said it in the heat of the moment to defend her man. In a strange way, the Pats' loss kind of inspired me. Well, honestly, at first it made me wonder if it was a bad omen for the year but then I realized that absolutely makes no sense. Once I realized that, I started to worry that people would talk smack about the Pats. And then it hit me, if people can't recognize that Brady (for instance) is super talented (despite not winning), then they're idiots. And then it hit me, that if people can't realize that I'm amazing then they're idiots. And then it further hit me, who cares what anyone thinks. Of course it is ridiculous that I had this train of thought as a result of watching the game, but my mind is something else I tell you.

The Celtics have been on a run too. Paul Pierce compared his team to being an old, rusty car, hanging out in the garage. After some fine tuning, it's ready to run better than ever. Pierce also just passed Bird's record for being the second highest scorer in team's history. Crazytown. And also crazytown is the fact that they're making a Bird/Magic musical. I love basketball. I love musicals. But....really?!?!


Speaking of b-ball, I was thinking about the Great Sir Charles aka my favorite player ever, and his wonderful mantra "I may be wrong but I doubt it." Thinking led to me stumbling across this gem:

What else. Oh, I changed my sheets on Sunday and it only took me two tries to get the bottom sheet on correctly. This is a record. It usually takes me around fifteen times. In bad news, we finally took our Christmas decorations down. Yes, it's February. I think it's okay though because it means we are one step closer to spring and in spring things are really going to be jumping off. Total razmataz!!

Oh and...

My former co-worker, the girl who played the trumpet in her cult's band, emailed me about THE WORLD WIDE MOVEMENT! Good to know she is still going strong. I almost wish I still worked with her so I'd see how she'd be around December 2012. I'm sure she'd be reminding me to sacrifice myself or else die. She did that in the past and it was like 2010.  It is weird getting these kind of emails. It's like the cult's version of being on a band list. Or...one time I met this guy at a bar and he told me he wanted to send me his writings so I gave him my email. Next thing you know, he has included me in receiving the newsletter that he sends out to his family. He's sending this newsletter to his entire family and to me, a girl he met once at a bar. SO WEIRD. Especially when in one such newsletter, he casually mentioned that he knocked up a girl, and then went back to discussing the latest book he has read. Here's an example of things he has written: "Jesus Christ didn't exist between the age of 13 and 31. Too bad. Otherwise I suppose I'd have a good manual for my life right about now. First, any reflections/explanations on Christianity's handling of those crucial 18 years of life. Second, do you think we've developed away from the old sages' world views? How can Abraham account for something like International AIDS Relief or Xanax?"


WHAT?!


Very strange these email lists I get myself on.

Valerian Root to Promote Relaxation!

 I need to relax, damn it! This year is going to the best year ever! I'm going to be ultra limber, relaxed, well rested and taking over the world, big time. To ensure my success, I've gone herbal. I'm throwing peppermint oil in warm milk to settle my stomach and I'm poppin' Valerian root like whoa. Oh and I'm hittin' the krill pill. That's right. It grosses me out kind of because really, how did they get that krill in there? But at 27, my joints are cracking in ungodly ways and I've had enough! I'm also back into stretching and getting low on the regs which is great for flexibility, a clear mind, and feeling like the shit. What, what!

I've substitute taught twice this week. Not bad. Elementary kids have a lot more snot-rockets than the middle school kids I used to deal with. Whenever I want a kid to sit down, I deepen my voice so it sounds like a man's and demand their attention. They are usually shocked enough by this to do as they're told. Today the class told me I sounded like I came from Brooklyn. I did so don't mess with me! I think that older kids get my wit better but the younger ones can appreciate me twirling around. Plus, they are shorter than me.

 I like doing work that is fulfilling. I think I'll be better able to pursue getting my own talk show and taking over the world if I have some stable awesomeness that I take pride in. It's happening. I can feel it!

Oh what else. Okay, freshman year of college my roommate told me about Rabbit Rabbit-ing. On the first of every month, the first words to escape your mouth are supposed to be "rabbit rabbit", guaranteeing good luck for the month. Well, I did that nonstop for oh, 9 years or so. Never missed a date. Even if I thought about not rabbit rabbiting, there I was, rolling over and muttering the damn words. Not this month folks. And I tell ya, I feel fine. I feel very fine indeed. I'm quite zealous about life. My zest is back people! The only thing that is sort of bringing me down right now is that Rags (dearest cat) does not enjoy the white fish chunks I bought him.

And in other news, I just made chocolate chip cookies from spelt flour and feel they're beyond delightful.

Additionally, I am reinstating my goal of being the leading lady of my life.