Craptastic Weekend

Yeah, yeah, yeah, what about the Boston photos? Well, I kinda took the weekend off, and am only getting around to uploading them now. Soon, kids.

So, this weekend. Yeah. Well. It starts with my friends, Dave and Jessi, who have been planning on moving to Chicago this summer. “This summer” very suddenly became “Friday” due to an unexpected interview opportunity. So, along with the masses, I got up at 4:30 am on Friday so that I could spend some quality time with Dave, waiting in line* so he could buy a new iPhone. He and Jessi left for Chicago, with my goddog, Oscar, and Oscar’s “sister,” Maddie, shortly after we returned home.

On Friday afternoon, I visited Greg over at Tribal Rites so he could try to fix the color on my tattoo. An hour later, covered with a layer of the lilac it should have been in the first place, it was looking a lot less blue. It still wasn’t the color I had originally intended, of course, but a good improvement. Jay and Alison saw it Friday night at a screening of Hellboy II, and gave their nod of approval.

Saturday morning, and the color was right back to where it started. I’m not real familiar with tattoo ink, but I didn’t think that was possible. Alison and Jay saw it again on Saturday, and were as surprised as I was by the shift. I guess it really wants to be blue. Which is too bad, because I HATE IT. HATE. I spent a YEAR obsessing about this art before committing it to my flesh, and teal blue was NEVER part of the plan. I am too upset to even think about what to do at this point. Saturday didn’t start off on the best note, and then:

The rest of the day was filled with laughter and tears as the remaining crew got together to help load up Erin and Tim’s belongings into their moving truck. I was given the oh-so-important task of holding the Door Open button on the elevator, while a flurry of people efficiently moved boxes and furniture from the third-floor apartment into the giant Penske truck waiting below. We all shuffled out in the afternoon, and Tim and Erin hit the road to Oklahoma a short time later. The only thing keeping me together is the promise of a visit from them at Halloween, our most favoritest of costumed holidays. I spent the afternoon trolling around online for costume accessories for a variety of ideas. I wonder which one will pan out!

Sunday was spent hanging out with Timber, driving around and visiting a (small!) car show and hitting up REI (we both bought nothing, but interestingly, ran into Alison and Jay). I bought a cute little vintage hat at Flossie McGrew’s. I tried and failed to troubleshoot Timber’s newest computer, an old iMac G4 which he found, fittingly, abandoned near a Dumpster. The monitor wasn’t coming on, and I don’t think the hard drive was spinning up (the fan was working fine, though!). He replaced the air filter in my car in the time it took me to make three trips into the basement looking for assorted cables and connectors as I attempted to hook the iMac up to either my MacBook or an LCD monitor to see if I could access the drive. No luck. I am troubled at my failure to diagnose and fix the problem. At least I have a bright, clean new air filter. :D

Four more days at the office, and then I get to fly out to see MANDY, which will help take the edge off. Even if all we do is hang out on the sofa and catch up on DVDs (with the occasional foray to Sebastian Joe’s for a scoop of something interesting, and Edina Grill for pierogis. And the St. Clair Broiler for the great signage and a good malt!), just being able to spend some time with Mandy will be a much-needed weekend.

Tomorrow: Boston. I promise.

*I have been reminded that the rest of the world waits IN line for things. Only New Yorkers wait ON line. I confused a friend, who thought I was talking about buying the iPhone online. I shall henceforth try to amend my communication.

Clecktions!

I know, I still owe you kids the final post about my trip to Boston, with links and pictures (with circles
and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one explaining what each one was). But you see, I didn’t realize that I’d taken 400 photographs, and I only got through my first edit on Wednesday night.

Instead, here’s an interview that I did with Sabrina, the charming blonde mannequin over at Holly Gab (the blog arm of Lucite Box Vintage). I took the photos myself, and in a terrible rush, so they’re not, how do you say, “good.” On the other hand, I don’t have fancy lighting equipment and I didn’t want to drag everything to the level of my studio lights, so… deal with it. :)

Now, does anyone know how to clean white canvas espadrilles?

Bahstahn, part II

Fen. Way. PARK.

Yeah, that’s right, I have finally seen the Big Green Monster with my very own eyes. As we walked from the T station to the ballpark, the conversation with my dad went something like:

Ohmigod, it’s the Citgo sign! I need to get a photo.
Of what?
THE CITGO SIGN, Dad!
I don’t get it.

If you haven’t yet figured it out, I was not personally surrounded by baseball fans. I didn’t buy any memorabilia, because the “Big Green Monstah” T-shirt that I wanted didn’t come in a girlie cut. I took a bunch of photos, and I’ll keep the ticket stub. We left after the 4th inning (again, I was not with baseball fans) and piled 6 people into Laura’s car for the drive back to base camp.

Tomorrow, I return home to the land of Coors Field and the Rockies. Also, my hair should calm down to a point where it is no longer swelling into a sentient being and trying to kill me. This humidity is enough to make a gal want to shave her head entirely. Okay, that might be the humidity, combined with the sweltering heat. Every time someone asks me why I moved to Colorado when I neither ski nor snowboard, this very weather is the thought that runs through my head.

I would like to send a shout out, right here and now, to Dave & Jessi. My neighbors, who are also my friends, took it upon themselves to drive me to (and pick me up from!) the airport for this little trip. I know that their upcoming move to Chicago is the right thing for them to do, but I would like to publicly say: SUCKS FOR COLORADO. The whole gang here is very sad to see them go.

Okay, for tomorrow: photos, links, and more detail about food, some sightseeing, and whatever else I can remember. It’s been wicked cool, kids. Thanks fah havin’ me.

Bahstahn, part I

I am unbelievably, and irrationally, tired. As I write this, it’s only 8:30 at “home” and a mere 10:30 here in my borrowed base camp. Under no circumstances should I be as wiped out as I currently feel.

(Excuse me. I was just interrupted by George, a cat who was last seen hissing at me in his best impression of a cobra. He is currently bonking me so hard that his paws are slipping on the hardwood floor. Fickle.)

Okay, so where was I? Ah, yes. Boston. It has been years since I’ve been in Boston, and never for a reasonable length of time. I have an uncle who lives in Boston, and he and his wife have extended an invitation to me numerous times. This time, however, the planets aligned just so, and a flock of friends descended upon them all at once for my uncle’s birthday celebration. Welcome to Tedstock: Three days of peace, music, and Ted. (Yes, my uncle was at Woodstock. 40 years later, a great story came out of it. You should ask him about it if you ever have the chance.)

I won’t download any pics until I get home to my card reader. A more detailed post (and links!) will accompany those. For now, you get:

• Slushie drinks
• Lobster and steak
• Flag Cake and heavenly cheesecake
• Fireworks
• Walk around Deer Island
• Harbor tour on a friend’s lobster boat
• Slushie drinks
• Dinner for 34 at La Siesta
• FOUR pies (and flag cake and heavenly cheesecake)
• Dim sum
• Brief walking tour
• Duck Tour
• Slushie drinks
• Big Ass Paella
• Coconut cake (and four pies and flag cake and heavenly cheesecake)

Yeah, this weekend has been a lot about food. It hasn’t fit in very well with my vegetarian diet, although the lobsters most definitely met my personal requirement of having lived a lobstery life. I met the man who actually caught them, I was able to watch him at work, and while some passengers on his boat were a bit squeamish at the reality of the situation (including, I thought oddly, the two daughters of crabbers), I approve of the general decency and respect that this particular fisherman afforded the creatures involved. I actually felt better about eating lobster after seeing the process first hand. I did feel a little guilty about tossing the more-difficult-to-get-at parts into the trash, until the raccoons broke in overnight and made short work of the remains. I’m glad nothing was wasted.

In closing, I offer you a snippet of Jailbird George’s oral tour from the DUKW boat:

“The Bunker Hill Monument is an Egyptian obelisk in an Irish neighborhood commemorating a battle we lost, and erected on the wrong hill. Heh.”

Tomorrow: Fenway Park. FENWAY FEKKIN’ PARK. Oh yeah, baby.

Someday, I’ll be dead.

I haven’t had a night to myself since last Tuesday, and it doesn’t look like the socializing and tasks will let up until next Thursday (if I can get my tattoo guy to FIX THE FRIKKIN’ COLOR ALREADY on the 8th). That’s two and a half solid weeks of spending every single night with other people. And while it’s fabulous to see friends, it’s also exhausting. My house is definitely worse for the wear. I still haven’t put away my camping gear, nor have I packed for my upcoming trip to Boston, for which I need to be at the airport in 24 hours. Between now and then, I still need to get in a full (and bound to be stressy) day at work, and take my mom out for her birthday (which I will actually be missing while I’m out of town this weekend).

Here’s the rub: If my dear pal Nova, who is soon moving to a new state, has any free evening to spend with me before she leaves? Oh yeah, I’m so there. I can rest when I’m dead.