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| Monday, November 29, 2004 |
| Wealth is Double-Edged Sword |
Recently I came into a little bit of money. It's not a lot, really, but my checking account has rarely seen amounts with 4 digits, so it seems like a lot to me. Unfortunately, most of it is accounted for: I'm going to do the responsible thing and put the majority of it toward my credit debt. Not a fun way to use it, but hey, I must have had fun using the credit card, right? Not that I even remember what I bought at this point.
A small part of the money will be spent on a plane ticket. Now listen carefully, because here is where the double-edge comes in. Two people, well actually a group of people and then another separate person have been hoping I would come visit. One is my friend Paul in England. I'd love to spend some time with him, and going to England post-breakup is a very important step for me, I think. My Austinites have also been clamouring. I haven't been back to Austin since I moved in August of 2001. I miss them, including monkeybro.
Now ususally, as I have stated in other posts, I can find a ticket to Heathrow for quite a bit less than one to Austin. Now that Southwest is flying out out of Philly (Phlying out of Philly?) I can get a ticket for $99 each way to Austin. The ticket into London was around $400. The trip to England also requires more time off work. I think, this time, Austin wins. I'm just afraid that Paul is going to be mad at me, or think that I don't really want to come. I just can't use up $400 of that money when I have debts to pay off. I hope he understands.
I'll still keep my eye on flights into the UK, I promise. And I'll start saving.
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posted by LoRi~fLoWer
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| Monday, November 22, 2004 |
| Fun Fact: Chow Mein is for old people |
Went out for Chinese today with the boys. Boys, meaning 7 of the engineers. Waiter (eerily reminiscent of the guy in "A Christmas Story") came over to take our orders. He went down the line and got to Brian. Brian ordered No. 2, the Chicken Chow Mein. The waiter began waving his arms. "No, no!" he shouted. "You not get No. 2, No. 2 is for old people, No. 2 is no good, you no want No. 2." Brian, a bit shocked but still surprisingly composed, said. "Oh. Really?"
"Yes, you never get No. 2, No. 2 is for very very old."
"Oh. OK, I'll have No. 10 I guess."
The waiter smiled happily and went to the other end of the table to get the rest of our orders. We were all trying very hard not to laugh while we made our choices.
Mr. Waiter had turned on his heel and was about to walk away, when he apparently decided that we needed further edification. "Back in Chang dynasty. People came here on boat. They were hungry. They have no food for long time. They go to houses of other Chinese people and say 'I am hungry, you give me food.' Poor Chinese people say, I have only this left over, they put it in pot and give it to man from off boat. That is Chow Mein. Chow Mein no good. Chow Mein for very very old. You not find Chow Mein on any menu in Chinatown."
So how friggin' interesting is that? See. You just have to listen and be open to learning. What a cool waiter!
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posted by LoRi~fLoWer
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| Your Blog as a Mirror |
Before I started blogging I would go about normally from day to day, week to week. Some days went faster than others, some weeks were more exciting than others. I took it all in stride. Now I'm rolodexing through my life trying to find things to write about.
A boring week translates into writer's block, which is kind of depressing. I suppose I could turn to finding an interesting link on the web and posting it, or writing some sort of commentary on current events...but that would really take away from my "the world revolves around me" stance.
A brief overview of the Boring Life of Lori could go something like this right now:
- We've decided to go to my dad's sister's for Thanksgiving. I'm glad about this. We'll get to be with family (recent years past—not counting last year— it's been mom and me eating a turkey breast) including my Grandmom from Queens. I love to get her talking about how easy it is to get lost in NYC. It never fails that she says, in her un-imiatatable Brooklyn accent: "You got a mouth? You gotta mouth, you're never lost. You're never lost if you gotta mouth." I love her! We'll also probably tell funny stories about my dad, which I love. Talking about him doesn't really make me sad anymore, and I love to hear about what he was like when he was little.
- Apparently, my brother and his wife (the other one, not monkeybro) are separated, at least temporarily. This makes me sad, as I love them both, and my two nephews, but I probably won't post much on it. It's their story to tell or not as they choose, not mine to broadcast.
- I'm earning some extra money editing one of the engineer's Ph.D. dissertation. I can only read about 10 pages of it at a time before I want to slice my throat with a butter knife. It's not badly written, but there are all kinds of medical terms. It's hard to concentrate on something you don't understand, although it is possible to edit the grammar and syntax.
- My ex-roommate is withholding my $550 security deposit, apparently because I sat on her couch and didn't vacuum as often as she thought I should have. We'll see about that. I fought Hyundai's machine, surely I can win against a diminuitive blonde.
- My supervisor is pregnant. Not being a fan of child-rearing myself, I am, however, very excited for her. And I do like babies. It's when they start to form their own personality that I start to disassociate from them. I bought her a hard book of Good Night Moon. I hope she comes back after her maternity leave!
And so it goes, and so it goes. I'm actually starting to feel the teensiest bit Christmassy.
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posted by LoRi~fLoWer
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| Thursday, November 18, 2004 |
| Me and my Job |
Many of you know I edit reports. I see some choice things, but this one has to take the cake. This particular person is a really good guy, by all accounts, but. . .well, you'll see (I've put "blank" in some places just to CMA, but any prepositions or words that seem to be missing, really are):
"I also examined the underside the blank blank this revealed that the exterior of the blank was damaged significantly more than the underside under-side which would in the blank was no coming from the blank blank itself."
This author is much more degreed than me, in case you were wondering.
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posted by LoRi~fLoWer
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| Wednesday, November 17, 2004 |
| Rockin' Around the Christmas Pumpkin |
Two radio stations in the greater Philadelphia area started playing Christmas music 24/7 on November 1st. People....this is a brilliant move and a great conspiracy between the retail chains and the radio stations (which are probably all owned by the same parent company) to get you to start buying Christmas presents now. You'll buy more that way, you know. You'll think the gift you purchased on November 2nd is perfect for your significant other, but when you see something on November 19th, you'll have to get that too, and you still have a whole month to see another PERFECT gift and buy that. Consume consume consume, and it's all because they got you singing "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year" before your jack o' lantern molded.
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posted by LoRi~fLoWer
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| Monday, November 15, 2004 |
| Universal Truth #34 & 35 |
34. Getting in at 3am on Monday morning when you have to get up at 6 for work is not smart, even if it was your birthday on Sunday.
35. Beer Goggles are real. Martini/Beer/Tequila/Wine Goggles are really more of a blindfold.
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posted by LoRi~fLoWer
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| Friday, November 12, 2004 |
| A Pilfered List of Universal Truths |
This one was one of those things that gets forwarded to you, so I have no idea who to credit. Or maybe I got it a long time ago off my friend Kirsty's Blog? See, now if they'd have copyrighted it...
I have highlighted those that I've found especially brilliant.
Universal Truths
- Triangular sandwiches taste better than square ones.
- At the end of every party there is always a girl crying
- One of the most awkward things that can happen in a bar is when your beer-to-toilet cycle gets synchronized with a complete stranger's.
- You're never quite sure whether it's ok to eat green potato chips
- Sharpening a pencil with a knife makes you feel really manly
- Reading when you're drunk is horrible.
- You're never quite sure whether it's against the law or not to have a fire in your backyard.
- Nobody ever dares make cup-a-soup in a bowl.
- You never know where to look when eating a banana
- It's impossible to describe the smell of a wet cat.
- Prodding a fire with a stick makes you feel manly.
- Rummaging in an overgrown backyard will always turn up a bouncy ball.
- You always feel a bit scared when petting horses.
- Everyone always remembers the day a dog ran into their school.
- The most embarrassing thing you can do as a schoolchild is to call your teacher mom or dad.
- The smaller the monkey the more it looks like it would kill you at the first given opportunity.
- Some days you see lots of people on crutches.
- Every guy has at some stage while taking a pee, flushed halfway through and then raced against the flush.
- Old women with mobile phones look wrong.
- It's impossible to look cool while picking up a Frisbee.
- Driving through a tunnel makes you feel excited.
- Old ladies can eat more than you think.
- You can't respect a man who carries a dog.
- There's no panic like the panic you momentarily feel when you've got your hand or head stuck in something.
- No one knows the origins of their metal coat hangers
- You never run out of salt.
- The most painful household incident is wearing socks and stepping on an upturned plug.
- People who don't drive slam car doors too hard.
- You've turned into your dad the day you put aside a thin piece of wood specifically to stir paint with.
- Everyone had an uncle who tried to steal their nose.
- Bricks are horrible to carry.
- In every plate of french fries there is a bad fry.
- Knowledge is knowing a tomato is a fruit; wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad.
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posted by LoRi~fLoWer
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| Mine Mine Mine!! |
I've noticed that the authors of some blogs copyright their posts. Is this really necessary? Is the fact that they had a donut for breakfast and tried to return an opened DVD to Best Buy really worth plagerizing?
© 2004 Lori~Flower™
All Rights Reserved
The Preceding is a work of Truth
Any resemblance to Persons Living or Dead is Strictly Intentional
Warning: Some material may be unsuitable for children under 14
Made of 20% Post-Recyled Material
The Beverage You Are About to Consume is Hot
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posted by LoRi~fLoWer
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| Thursday, November 11, 2004 |
| Can this be Possible? |
You know, I've never really envied any one else's childhood. I had two parents who doted on me. I was basically raised as an only child, but I still got the benefits of having older brothers. (They're 14 and 16 years older than I am, so they were mostly out of the house by the time my memories start.) By benefits I mean saying: I want that. And one of them, usually monkeybro, would get it for me. I don't know how I didn't end up a completely spoiled brat. Don't answer that question, brother dear.
But do you know what happens when your brothers are 14 and 16 years older than you? You end up with a 17-year-old nephew. How the hell did that happen? How the hell can I possibly have a nephew who is one year away from voting? And the same age as that girl Kael tried to woo. It's kind of depressing. And I'm so not "cool Aunt Lori." To be "cool Aunt Lori" would require money to blow and keeping up with the latest 17 (oh and 16, 14, and 8) year olds' trends. What am I, an architect?
P.S. What do you all think of the template? And look, I found out how to add links. Still working on them though, so don't spit up a hairball if yours isn't up there yet.
I think I have writer's block.
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posted by LoRi~fLoWer
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| Wednesday, November 10, 2004 |
| Cold and Uninspired |
It's cold out and I have nothing to write about.
Well, that's not exactly true. I do have a rant on the used-car salesman from my latest test drive on Monday night. But for some reason I don't have the energy. I think it's because I've told it to too many people already. I will say this: if I ever hear "I have a family to feed" come out of the mouth of another salesperson I will immediately walk out and not buy whatever it was I was thinking of buying. Same goes for "young lady," "we never do this," and "out on a limb." Although I did not get a car on Monday night, I felt like I won when I looked at that greasy guy for a silent 5 seconds and he could no longer meet my eye. Add to that fact that I knew more about the car than he did: "Aren't you going to tell me about the horizontally opposed engine, Sir Slimey?"
On an unrelated note: Can anyone explain to me why it's cheaper to fly to London, England than to Austin, TX? Doesn't it take more fuel to get across the Atlantic? I just don't get it.
I'm grumpy. Muh. 
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posted by LoRi~fLoWer
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| Tuesday, November 09, 2004 |
| Things I Wish I had A Reason/ An Opportunity/The Cahones To Do |
In no particular order:
- Have a day where I say out loud what I'm really thinking.
- Break someone's heart.
- Be pregnant, but not actually have to rear a child.
- Have short hair.
- Be friends with someone famous, i.e. in a posse. (Like those people who hang out at stars' houses when they are filming Cribs.)
- Punch someone for real.
- Stalk someone.
- Drink absinthe.
- Smash into an annoying driver on purpose.
- Wear one of those big heavy cloaks with the wide hoods, arrive looking mysterious, and slowly lower the hood, revealing my shining alabaster brow and a frightened yet brave and resolute expression.
- Be someone's true love. (Perhaps the handsome man who happens to be around when I lower my hood?I really have to stop reading historical fiction, even if it is the well-researched kind.)
What about you guys? Top 3?
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posted by LoRi~fLoWer
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| Monday, November 08, 2004 |
| Into Every Life an Average Weekend Must Fall |
Nothing remotely interesting happened to me this weekend. It wasn't a bad weekend, but it also wasn't a weekend to engender witticisms. I went to a used book sale, which is where I think I want to go when I die. I left with my arms full and only $3.75 poorer. I sleep with at least four books in my bed at all times, never know what kind of a reading mood I'm going to be in. Come to think of it, that explains the corner shaped bruises on my torso.
When I got home I sorted them into piles according to genre and how much I want to read them. Then I sort of just sat on the couch and looked at the piles lovingly, and inhaled that wonderful old paper smell for a while. Then I re-arranged them according to length and if I'd read anything by that author before. More piles, but smaller. I looked at those for a while too, and pondered how good it is to be able to read any book I want to. Then I thought about how I actually miss dissecting the books with my classmates, doing research, and writing papers. I also thought about how much I detested it when I was doing it, and wondered if that was a real example of irony or just another Alanis Morrissette song. I pondered leaving all my books in piles on the floor since I'm running out of shelf space and I can't bear to get rid of any of them. Went to kitchen, got a drink, came back, tripped on pile of books.
Put all books back in bag except for Fathers and Sons by Ivan Turngenev. I finished that up this morning. It was good. Funny to think that he was almost put on trial for having nihilist sympathies when it is obvious that his nihilist characters find that nihilism goes against their own human natures and they either suffer for it or abandon it.
What else. I test drove a 1999 Subarau Legacy SUS (Sport Utility Sedan) now called the Outback Sedan. I really liked it. It was green and had a scooped out hood, a spoiler, and a moonroof. I was seriously considering getting it. But then I thought it would be kind of silly to spend all that money on a car that is older than the one I have now and only has 8,000 less miles on it, even if it was sexy. I probably shouldn't have named her. Goodbye Rachel, I hope whoever buys you takes good care of you. I'm going to test drive a Forester tonight. 2000, less miles, but the same price. We'll see. Most of the time I don't mind being single and fatherless, but car shopping is one of those times when I feel very small and inexperienced. I've done some research though, and I even know what a horizontally opposed engine is. NHTSA has no recalls out on any Foresters, either. And they got a 4-star crash test rating. So we'll see.
Anyway, next weekend is my birthday. Well it's really Sunday, but I deserve a whole weekend; however, I don't have any exciting plans. Any suggestions?
People say that life is the thing, but I prefer reading.
--Logan Pearsall Smith (1865 - 1946)
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posted by LoRi~fLoWer
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| Friday, November 05, 2004 |
| Moderately Too Creamy |
Last night I made $35 in cash for tasting 3 kinds of potato salad. I nearly killed myself trying to get out of my actual salaried job on time and driving through torrential downpours, and probably using 1/4 of a tank of gas all in order to taste potatoes mixed with mayo for 35 bucks. That didn't strike me as strange at the time, though.
I arrived late, breathless, and wet, and was handed a clipboard with the exact same questions as were on the online survey that I took in order to qualify for the taste test. "How often would you say you buy potato salad?" "How do you feel about potato salad in general?" "If you were a potato, how many eyes would you have?" We were reminded that we could not taste the potatoes if we had on perfume, scented lipgloss, too much fabric softener, or deer pheromones.
There was a strange mix of people in the room. Not everyone looked like they needed an extra $35. I tried to imagine what would motivate someone to come out on a horribly stormy night to taste food if they didn't need the money. I saw the token one person that I knew. Oddly enough she was a waitress at the pizza place my family used to frequent. Can waitresses be food tasters? Seems like cheating to me! I was going to call her out then and there, but they ushered us into the top-secret food laboratory.
We rambled into the room single file like we were heading to the school cafeteria. We each sat down at a blank white study carroll furnished with a paper plate with 3 saltines, a plastic cup of water, and three forks. The test adminstrators were all wearing lab coats with embroidered nametags, like they had a really important job and maybe we would never figure out how to taste the potato salad without them.
Before we chowed down we had to answer yet another general question about potato salad. Something like: "If you like potato salad so much, why don't you marry it?"
Before each sample you had to eat some saltines and drink some water to cleanse your potato palate. God forbid the samples mingled in your mouth. That would ruin everything. The guy next to me ate all of each of his samples. So I figured out a reason why people would come out if they didn't need the money. He was hungry. Then came the barrage of taste related questions: "How do you feel about the overall appearance of this potato salad." I'm sure there is someone out there somewhere for this salad, but it's just not my type. It seems to retain water. "Was the dressing too creamy, moderately too creamy, just about right, slightly uncreamy, or not creamy at all?" Yes. "How would you rate the taste of the celery salt in this sample?" What's celery salt? "How do you feel about the overall color of this sample?" Oh no, you're not trapping me into *that* kind of a question.
So I left feeling a bit queesy and over-mayonaised, but $35 richer. I don't think I like potato salad anymore.
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posted by LoRi~fLoWer
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| Thursday, November 04, 2004 |
| Shameless Nepotistic Promotion |
I might have just made up that word, "nepotistic."
Anyway, check out my big brother's blog next time you get a chance to browse.
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posted by LoRi~fLoWer
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| The Single Broke Gourmet |
Let's get this straight. I can cook. I can follow recipes. I make a great Chicken Marsala, and my from scratch pancakes are legendary. However, I do most of my cooking at my mom's house. She's got everything, it's like a free trip to Wegman's.
So last night I opened up the fridge: a 12 pack of caffeine free Diet Pepsi, 4 pieces of bread, and some Lite Laughing Cow Original Spreadable Swiss Cheese. Riiiiight. So I opened up the cupboard. Popcorn. Hmm...had that last night for dinner. Ok, so all I need is a little ingenuity here, right?
Lori's Rev'd Up Open-Faced Laughing Cow Sandwich
Take two slices of bread, toasted
Spread a triangle of Lite Laughing Cow Original Spreadable Swiss cheese on each one.
Sprinkle the Cheese with the following:
Pepper
Onion Salt
Garlic Powder
Paprika.
Crack open a Diet Pepsi and Voila! I'm going to be famous!
On another note: I tried to watch Hildago last night while eating my feast. I Heart Viggo Mortensen, but I couldn't even finish watching, the acting was so horrible. And what's up with whole conversations in a different language with no subtitles????
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posted by LoRi~fLoWer
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| Wednesday, November 03, 2004 |
| Mishmosh: A Part of the Cycle |
Those of you who know me fairly well know how I am about song lyrics. I like lots of different kinds of music and lots of different songs, but I love lyrics that roll like poetry. That's why I like bands like Counting Crows and Tonic. Usually when I'm going through anything in my life I'll find a lyric and hang onto it like a mantra, even if it's from a song I've played a thousand times, but never really thought about before. I think my brother does this, too. And when he sees this lyric it's going to remind him that he told me he wanted this CD. *wave*
Swallow your pride
Make way for the new bride
Holding your tongue
When they call another winner
Oh there is more to this life
Hey Mr. Golden Deal
Tell me how does she feel
She's like the wind
That boy couldn't sail
He says I've washed these decks for years
I've carried those pails
And oh there is more to this life
Hey Mr. Golden Deal
Tell me how does she feel
Does she hold you in the night
Does she tell you everything's gonna be alright
Hey Mr. Golden Deal
How does she feel
Captain oh my captain
Steer the first mate true
The men they sing a song of fear
Ghosts of ships who failed before
And the captain he is laughing
You can't control the sea
She will always do as she pleases
It's her nature to be free
And oh there is more to this life
Hey Mr. Golden Deal
Tell me how does she feel
Do you hold her in the night
Do you tell her everything's gonna be alright
Hey Mr. Golden Deal
I know how you feel
Oh, I know
Oh, I know
Hey Mr. Golden Deal
How does she feel
--Tonic, "Mr. Golden Deal", from Lemon Parade
I'm completely on purpose not talking about the election. I got in a bit of an argument with Paul last night because I told him politics were an off-limit topic for me. Apparently you aren't supposed to have off-limit topics. Well, I thought a bit about it last night and I came up with a reason. Here it is, here's my secret fear and the deep dark reason why I have off-limit topics about anything. I'm easily swayed. If someone gives a good argument, sure, I'll agree. And then someone on the opposing side says something equally reasonable and that sounds good to me. This trait is not one of my more admirable characteristics. I really dislike it. So if I don't have a hard and fast opinion, and I usually don't, unfortunately...I don't like to make an ass out of myself. Sounds stupid, but there you have it. It is this self-same trait that is going to make buying a car very interesting. I guarantee I'll walk out of the first dealership I sit down in the day I seriously start looking with keys to my new car.
I wish I knew how to work it so I could see who was coming on to read this. I know my friend's blog has this capability, but it's her own website. I'd be interested to know, but maybe it would be disappointing, and it's also still trying to hold onto a piece of something that I should rip into little pieces and throw away.
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posted by LoRi~fLoWer
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| Tuesday, November 02, 2004 |
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The whole city was on fire. This is the State House in Boston.  |
posted by LoRi~fLoWer
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This is the best left unexplained picture I mentioned in my Boston post. |
posted by LoRi~fLoWer
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Enjoying 7, 8, &9. Too bad you can't see what my paper hat says, or Cavi's Balloon. |
posted by LoRi~fLoWer
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This is Cavi and me at the Red Sox Parade after. We're at about #4 at this point, for those of you who read the Boston post. That's J. to the right. |
posted by LoRi~fLoWer
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| Here's to you Bacchus! |
WARNING: This is long and detailed and probably only Cavi and I care. But it was a weekend to remember and I wanted to get it all down for posterity.
Boston more than lived up to its "my favorite city in the whole entire world not excepting London or Paris" designation. What a friggin' weekend, man. And it was right on schedule, too. I'm really not much of a "puke and rally" stay out until dawn partying kind of girl. But about every six months (Cinco de Mayo was the last time) I want to be that girl. Although, generally, I'm not a puker, thank goodness, and I definitely proved that this weekend.
Let's see. I'm going to preface this by saying that I know that some of this was stupid, and a bit unsafe. And, no, I don't think I'm immortal. But damn it was fun. Here is an honest account of our weekend.
Friday 5.15 pm, Cavi and I put our crappy work weeks, not to mention our crappy ex-boyfriends, behind us, packed up the truck, and headed out. We were both starved and stopped at McDonalds (considered by me to only be pre-debauchery food). I got a quarter pounder, fries, and a coke. I briefly considered making the gesture and getting a diet coke, but then I remembered what I was about to put in my mouth, and it seemed pointless.
We fell into the rhythm of the long drive. Just two girls, driving in a huge Dodge Ram 1500 wearing cowboy hats. Good conversation with each other, a few mobile phone conversations, a stop for gas, lots of CDs including our theme song, "Sin Wagon." I spent quite a long time playing with MSN on my phone talking to Paul, who has assumed the role of my very own personal cheerleader. He rocks and he has a British Accent, which only makes him rock harder.
One of us, I won't mention who, said, "I wonder what gin and coke tastes like?" But I will admit it was me who pulled the bottle out from under the back seat and decided to find out. But only a little bit, because 1) I hate gin and 2) I wasn't sure if Cavi would need me to drive.
We hit the Massachusetts state line at around 9.30pm, I think. With only an hour or so left, and Cavi still claiming the steering wheel, we had a brilliant idea while drinking Red Bull: Gin and Red Bull. So Cavi chugged half of the Red Bull and I replaced that with a shot of gin. We'll call that drink #1.
Got to the apartment at around 10.45 pm. and started to get ready for the costume party. Cavi was a "slutty teacher" and I was a cowgirl. I had a shot of gin, straight up. God, I hate gin. (#2). I met John and Dave, a pimp and Warren from There's Something About Mary, respectively. When we were finally ready, we hopped in J's SUV and were immediately handed a bottle of beer. (#3) It was a long drive into the city and it took us a while to find the house. (#4, 5, 6)
I suppose the party was frat-style, but since I went to a Catholic college with one bogus sorority, that's only an assumption. It was in a neat Victorian townhouse, though. There was much halloweening and many cans of beer. (#7-13) So, I'm leaning against a wall, taking in all the music and costumes, feeling comfortably sloshy inside and altogether quite hedonistic. Then I see this older guy with a really authentic cop costume. (yes, I know...wait for it...wait for it...) Cavi must have seen in my eyes that I was about to say something to him and she was about to grab me when the completely authentic cop shut the party down. But here's some highlights: I seem to remember seeing a guy dressed like a cow sitting in a chair holding his udder and asking him if he needed help with that; telling a cowboy that my belt buckle was bigger than his; advising some guy on which side of the deck would be best to pee off of; grabbing a shark's fins and poking him in the eye; and taking a good size grab of some cute guy's ass because, apparently, I could.
The ride back to the apartment was probably the closest I've ever come to throwing up from booze. When we got home at around 3am, I fell face first on the bed in my clothes and didn't wake up until Cavi's alarm went off at 7am. The guys were coming at 8.30 to take us to the parade.
What I know about baseball could fit into a dixie cup. And not a party dixie cup either, more like the ones you keep in the bathroom for mouthwash. So, yeah, all this is going to seem bandwagon. Hell, it is bandwagon, but I defy anyone who was in Boston for that parade in that atmosphere to remain neutral. It was amazing! The streets were alive. Music, horns, confetti, cheers. We bought some cigars and some clove cigarettes (Great idea, but another "only on a weekend of debauchery" thing). Hung out on the streets for a bit and finally found an open bar (even better idea). 10.00am now. One pint of Sam Adams down (#1) and working on a Coors Light (#2) when we decide that it's about damn time for some tequila. Up at the bar to get it was when I made my one and only "conquest" of the weekend. His name was Sim and he was Canadian. He let me try his L.I. Iced Tea and then he came over to our table and did a shot of Jose with us. (#3). A few minutes later he was back bringing us another shot of tequila, which was, quite obviously, not Jose. (#4) He and his friends left and that was the end of our brief but shining, whirlwind affair.
Then we cheered as all the players went by, and got some pretty good shots of the players and the crowd. However, much to Cavi's chagrin, we didn't get one of Johnny Damon. Then we went for a post parade beer at a bar closer to the apartment. (#5)
A brief lull in the action between 2 and 6 which was still a fun day, but not much to write about, so shall remain pretty much undocumented except I will post a picture that is better left unexplained.
Saturday night we hopped into D.'s SUV (#6) and drove to Dick's Last Resort. Had food, a 32 oz beer (#7, 8, 9) in a bucket of ice, and a "mini-Guinness" shot (#10). The waitress made me a hat out of paper that said I HEART DICK'S. Cavi got a balloon tied to her ponytail that said 10 CENT LAP DANCES. D. (the birthday boy) got a hat with balloons that said "All I want is to be ridden like a mechanical bull." (This was ironic for reasons yet again better unexplained.) I can't remember what J.'s hat said.
Then back in the SUV (#11) we changed in to our costumes. I'm not even going to tell you what I was supposed to be that night, but it involved fishnets. We made a stop at some friends who made us 2 Lemon Yellow DEATH Shots made with Everclear (#12, 13) and drank a gin and tonic. (#14). Did I mention I hate gin?
Couldn't find the party (surprise, surprise) so we went to a club. Danced, drank beer, watched D. get 2nd place in the costume contest. He totally should have won, I mean come on...Teen Wolf won, not Warren? (#16, 17, 18) We also had this disgusting shot called a Jelly Donut. (#19) (The funny thing about that was we were wracking our brains to try to come up with a shot that started with J... J...J...what starts with J? It wasn't until driving home on Sunday afternoon that we realized we could have a had a nice shot of Jack and not some sweet Grenadine crap.) Left the club and went for a late night pizza. Dropped fishnets and peed behind the SUV in Fenway Park's parking lot next to a pimp, also peeing. Fell asleep HARD in the car, drooling all over the pimp. Somhow got up apartment stairs. Crashed. As you can see, this night is a bit less clear in my memory.
Drove home Sunday afternoon. Talked about how we probably should be dead. Gave ourselves the "damn you girls can hold your liquor" prize. Called doctor, scheduled dual liver transplants for Thursday.
Now I'm back to studious, non-smoking, 1 drink a week Lori, minus some brain cells which we think I lost in the parking lot of Fenway park. But she's a pretty cool girl, too.
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posted by LoRi~fLoWer
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