Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Friday, November 11, 2011
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Saturday, October 8, 2011
A Quest for Cranberry Muffins
This morning I woke up and had a sudden pang of hunger, specifically for the cranberry muffins they have at Shaw's. So I made some coffee, fed my starving and crying kitty, took out the trash and began my one minute trek to Shaw's.
On the way, I called my mom on the way to tell her about this book I'm reading and enjoying. In the distance I saw a pretty large group of people huddled in front of the Planned Parenthood, one of the two buildings between my apartment and Shaw's. Now, it's not unusual for there to be a person or two in front of the Planned Parenthood on any given day, but the magnitude of this group was staggering. In front of the building, there is a yellow line drawn that any protesters have to stand behind. This is a good thing, of course, but poses an awkward problem to passersby. A very large part of me always wants to walk behind the protesters just so I can avoid their eyes, but would bring me all the way out into the line of traffic. I would guess that the people in traffic are generally angrier than any of those protesters.
So anyway, I was on the phone with my mom and she was talking about how beautiful the day was in Iowa...oh man, that's a large group of protesters. She asked me how the day was here. "it's.... nice" whoa, that's a sizable picture of Jesus... "Are the leaves turning colors yet?" she asks. The protesters see me coming and turn 2 more pictures of Jesus my way. "No, the leaves are still pretty green here." At this point I'm right in front of the group and the leader of the group said something probably from the bible and they all broke out into a solemn hymn. I walked past the three Jesus' (Jesuses? Jesui?) and a group of around 15 to 20 people, the spryest one around his 70's. Some were standing, some parked in their lawn chairs, all behind a large rope to keep them behind the line.. Hm, who put that there, anyway? Someone in Planned Parenthood? Man, I wouldn't want to have to be that guy...
Anyway, in a minute it was all over and I was in Shaw's picking out the best looking cranberry muffins. To further delay my trek back, I checked out the soap asiles and picked out three deodorants of different scents, grabbed a bag of chocolate, checked out all the drinks in the various coolers before all the check-out lines, stood in awe in front of all the fruit in the produce asile for a minute, and then went through the self check-out line: 1 package of 4 muffins, 3(deodorant), Halloween Nestle Crunch.
I won't write about the walk back. It was a mirror image of the way there, except I lost reception in the grocery store so I couldn't use my phone as a distraction while walking by them again. Instead I made eye contact with a couple of them and gave them some sort of smile assuming they must also be enjoying this fall weather.
On the way, I called my mom on the way to tell her about this book I'm reading and enjoying. In the distance I saw a pretty large group of people huddled in front of the Planned Parenthood, one of the two buildings between my apartment and Shaw's. Now, it's not unusual for there to be a person or two in front of the Planned Parenthood on any given day, but the magnitude of this group was staggering. In front of the building, there is a yellow line drawn that any protesters have to stand behind. This is a good thing, of course, but poses an awkward problem to passersby. A very large part of me always wants to walk behind the protesters just so I can avoid their eyes, but would bring me all the way out into the line of traffic. I would guess that the people in traffic are generally angrier than any of those protesters.
So anyway, I was on the phone with my mom and she was talking about how beautiful the day was in Iowa...oh man, that's a large group of protesters. She asked me how the day was here. "it's.... nice" whoa, that's a sizable picture of Jesus... "Are the leaves turning colors yet?" she asks. The protesters see me coming and turn 2 more pictures of Jesus my way. "No, the leaves are still pretty green here." At this point I'm right in front of the group and the leader of the group said something probably from the bible and they all broke out into a solemn hymn. I walked past the three Jesus' (Jesuses? Jesui?) and a group of around 15 to 20 people, the spryest one around his 70's. Some were standing, some parked in their lawn chairs, all behind a large rope to keep them behind the line.. Hm, who put that there, anyway? Someone in Planned Parenthood? Man, I wouldn't want to have to be that guy...
Anyway, in a minute it was all over and I was in Shaw's picking out the best looking cranberry muffins. To further delay my trek back, I checked out the soap asiles and picked out three deodorants of different scents, grabbed a bag of chocolate, checked out all the drinks in the various coolers before all the check-out lines, stood in awe in front of all the fruit in the produce asile for a minute, and then went through the self check-out line: 1 package of 4 muffins, 3(deodorant), Halloween Nestle Crunch.
I won't write about the walk back. It was a mirror image of the way there, except I lost reception in the grocery store so I couldn't use my phone as a distraction while walking by them again. Instead I made eye contact with a couple of them and gave them some sort of smile assuming they must also be enjoying this fall weather.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Burning Questions on a Saturday Evening
On my way out of my apartment building, I passed a room blaring some bumpin' pop radio song accompanied by what I would guess maybe 4 girls talking at once. We could assume there were a couple silent ones in there too. Which brings many burning questions to mind.
Maybe I need to provide a little background info about my apartment first. I reside in a tiny, overpriced studio in the middle of Boston. The building has about 25 identical units. It has what could pass for a kitchen including a small fridge and stove (the stove about the size of the plastic toy one Becky and I received one Christmas many years ago). The "living area", I guess you'd call it, has my bed, a table, dresser, and keyboard all lining the available walls. I have a bathroom, too, but it doesn't really add to my point unless some of the girls are indeed hanging out in the bathroom...being that it is only 7:00pm, I doubt that is yet the case. Aaaaand...that's about it. It's extremely small.
This isn't the first time a party is thrown in my building. There is one apartment a floor up that has regular parties at least once a week. Here are the questions I have for the studio apartment partiers:
1. How do you all fit in there? Are you all sitting down? On what? Standing? If so, where? In the middle of the room surrounded by someone else's dirty clothes and bed sheets? The parties I attended at school were in houses, big apartments..not some dinky studio. We had room to stretch out and do keg stands (Sadly, I did not partake in the traditional keg stand not necessarily for fear of getting drunk; but more for the fear of kicking someone in the face, choking, being dropped, or the possibility that gravity would take my shirt in a direction unintended. Yet, it was a risk many an Iowan took.)
2. By the time I hear the third explosion of breaking glass, was it on purpose? Wait, is that macho? Do ladies fall for the loud, drunk guy who shattered their beer bottle with one energetic toss? Maybe he is showing off his perfect baseball pitch he had in high school. Or perhaps a football throw would be better form...I never was one for sports. Anyway, call me weird, but I was always more attracted to the guy who set out a box for recycling the beer bottles at parties.
3. What exactly was that loud thing you just yelled?
Anyway, I don't really want the answers to these questions. I just want you to party elsewhere.
Maybe I need to provide a little background info about my apartment first. I reside in a tiny, overpriced studio in the middle of Boston. The building has about 25 identical units. It has what could pass for a kitchen including a small fridge and stove (the stove about the size of the plastic toy one Becky and I received one Christmas many years ago). The "living area", I guess you'd call it, has my bed, a table, dresser, and keyboard all lining the available walls. I have a bathroom, too, but it doesn't really add to my point unless some of the girls are indeed hanging out in the bathroom...being that it is only 7:00pm, I doubt that is yet the case. Aaaaand...that's about it. It's extremely small.
This isn't the first time a party is thrown in my building. There is one apartment a floor up that has regular parties at least once a week. Here are the questions I have for the studio apartment partiers:
1. How do you all fit in there? Are you all sitting down? On what? Standing? If so, where? In the middle of the room surrounded by someone else's dirty clothes and bed sheets? The parties I attended at school were in houses, big apartments..not some dinky studio. We had room to stretch out and do keg stands (Sadly, I did not partake in the traditional keg stand not necessarily for fear of getting drunk; but more for the fear of kicking someone in the face, choking, being dropped, or the possibility that gravity would take my shirt in a direction unintended. Yet, it was a risk many an Iowan took.)
2. By the time I hear the third explosion of breaking glass, was it on purpose? Wait, is that macho? Do ladies fall for the loud, drunk guy who shattered their beer bottle with one energetic toss? Maybe he is showing off his perfect baseball pitch he had in high school. Or perhaps a football throw would be better form...I never was one for sports. Anyway, call me weird, but I was always more attracted to the guy who set out a box for recycling the beer bottles at parties.
3. What exactly was that loud thing you just yelled?
Anyway, I don't really want the answers to these questions. I just want you to party elsewhere.
The Many Sleeping LeAnns
There are a few times in my life where I have dreams so vivid, I can't discern them from reality or my mind.
Did I really sign the little book label on my iPad case? Upon glancing up, I see that I didn't. Ex Libris:___________. In all honesty, signing that label would give me a great pleasure just as writing my name all over my sheet music and books did ten years ago, but I never remember feeling satisfied with my handwriting in the end. Today, it scares me to violate anything with a signature I'm unhappy with. But it has to be pen. That's a rule, right? Permanent pen. But every time I open the cover and see that little label sticker, my name is absent and it feels incomplete. What feels incomplete? I don't even know...something does.
They're odd, though. Dreams.
I am many people in my dreams. Sometimes I'm a sad, blubbering idiot. Unable to speak except at only an inaudible whisper; losing my teeth and causing quite an ugly spectacle of myself. Many times in these dreams I can't climb a hill or run without using my arms to help. Even in my dream I know that's ridiculous and try to run on only my two legs, only to fail and have to drop back down for the aid of my arms.
Sometimes I'm heroic and happy. Able to fly; soar up into the clouds after one great leap! Although, many times (still dreaming, of course) when I think about the flying too much, I forget how to do it effortlessly and it takes many leaps to get it right. Sometimes I try to teach my sister to fly. I've saved others from drowning and can effortlessly outrun any demons. It has been awhile since I've been such a person when sleeping.
Lately, I've just had real-life dreams though. Signing my iPad case in my sleep with my favorite pen. Oddly, I don't even remember if I liked the signature...
Did I really sign the little book label on my iPad case? Upon glancing up, I see that I didn't. Ex Libris:___________. In all honesty, signing that label would give me a great pleasure just as writing my name all over my sheet music and books did ten years ago, but I never remember feeling satisfied with my handwriting in the end. Today, it scares me to violate anything with a signature I'm unhappy with. But it has to be pen. That's a rule, right? Permanent pen. But every time I open the cover and see that little label sticker, my name is absent and it feels incomplete. What feels incomplete? I don't even know...something does.
They're odd, though. Dreams.
I am many people in my dreams. Sometimes I'm a sad, blubbering idiot. Unable to speak except at only an inaudible whisper; losing my teeth and causing quite an ugly spectacle of myself. Many times in these dreams I can't climb a hill or run without using my arms to help. Even in my dream I know that's ridiculous and try to run on only my two legs, only to fail and have to drop back down for the aid of my arms.
Sometimes I'm heroic and happy. Able to fly; soar up into the clouds after one great leap! Although, many times (still dreaming, of course) when I think about the flying too much, I forget how to do it effortlessly and it takes many leaps to get it right. Sometimes I try to teach my sister to fly. I've saved others from drowning and can effortlessly outrun any demons. It has been awhile since I've been such a person when sleeping.
Lately, I've just had real-life dreams though. Signing my iPad case in my sleep with my favorite pen. Oddly, I don't even remember if I liked the signature...
Friday, September 30, 2011
Hypothesis on a Real-Life Issue.
This morning I got some breakfast at Whole Foods by Berkley. I was sitting by the window with kind of a gross egg and cheese sandwich that was not at all what I expected and a coffee. People watching. A man walked by with his small dog. The dog peed on the back wheel of my bike and then trotted on. My tiny disdain for small dogs just slightly increased. Now when I ride my bike around the city I wonder if dogs smell me as I go by. A moving fire hydrant.
When I got home, I decided to run a test. I grabbed my pudgy snugglepants kitty and stuck her head by my back wheel and moved her around the wheel in a circular motion; her nose close to the rim at all times. She didn't act out of the ordinary; just sat in my hands going around and around. I wonder what she thought of the drill, if she thought anything of it at all. Her lack of interest in any part of the wheel brought me to two conclusions: either dogs urinate on my bike often and it's nothing out of the ordinary, or perhaps it was a false alarm and the dog lifted his leg but decided not to go through with the deed. I'll assume the latter.
When I got home, I decided to run a test. I grabbed my pudgy snugglepants kitty and stuck her head by my back wheel and moved her around the wheel in a circular motion; her nose close to the rim at all times. She didn't act out of the ordinary; just sat in my hands going around and around. I wonder what she thought of the drill, if she thought anything of it at all. Her lack of interest in any part of the wheel brought me to two conclusions: either dogs urinate on my bike often and it's nothing out of the ordinary, or perhaps it was a false alarm and the dog lifted his leg but decided not to go through with the deed. I'll assume the latter.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Monday, July 25, 2011
I'm having the hardest time getting motivated to clean and pack everything for the move in a week. I work a lot, and when I get home the last thing I want to do is pack up the apartment. I got home 2 and a half hours ago and have done nothing.
I think the best plan would be to go to Stop and Shop, get some Mike and Ike's and something to drink, and maybe a contentless movie from redbox or perhaps download an album by El Perro Del Mar, quarters for laundry, then come back and just really go to town. What do you think? At least get started!!! The hardest part is starting.
I think the best plan would be to go to Stop and Shop, get some Mike and Ike's and something to drink, and maybe a contentless movie from redbox or perhaps download an album by El Perro Del Mar, quarters for laundry, then come back and just really go to town. What do you think? At least get started!!! The hardest part is starting.
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Sunday, July 24, 2011
The worst thing ever is disappointing someone.
The other day I hurt someone who means everything to me. Generally I don't handle situations like this well because I avoid any confrontations if at all possible. And when something does happen, I always just want things to back to the way they were instantly. But it can't, and a lot of times it shouldn't be that easy. I have that feeling I get in of my chest when something is unresolved or when something really bad just happened, and it is melting me.
I have had kind of a bittersweet summer so far. The highs- absolutely euforic. The lows- confusing and desolate. But without the lows the highs wouldn't feel so great, right?
Whew. It's off my chest.
I played at a wedding today. I got to see a couple old friends, and also feel like I got to know a person a little whom I didn't really know before. I look forward to this next school year with him! The whole quartet was really having a good time. Sometimes playing for a friend's wedding brings out the best in a musician. The music being played is meaningful to so many people. Man. There were a couple moments where I felt I wasn't behind the horn, but in the music. It should always feel that way.
Tomorrow begins a new week.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Week with my sister!
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| My favorite breakfast place, Thortons. |
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| We wanted to get a good seat at the movie, but being 40 minutes early is apparently too early. Becky did pick the best seat, though. |
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| McCormick and Schmicks |
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| Contemplating whether eating the whole cannoli was a good idea or not. |
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| More pictures from the sunrise at Revere Beach |
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| After the beach, we went to a little diner and had some fruit, eggs, toast and potatoes. |
Friday, July 22, 2011
My sister and I went to the beach this morning to catch the sunrise. I took a million pictures, and would love for you to see them all, but when posted on here they all look the same. So I just picked a few.
When the sun finally came out from behind that big cloud, it instantly warmed up and is now the hottest day of the summer so far. Finally broke down and bought an air conditioner.
When the sun finally came out from behind that big cloud, it instantly warmed up and is now the hottest day of the summer so far. Finally broke down and bought an air conditioner.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Friday, May 27, 2011
Thursday, May 26, 2011
stella shows the houseplants how nice it is to be outside
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| comforting a nervous house plant |
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| "roll call! yep, everyone's here" |
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| "now we just hang out" |
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| "smell the fresh air" |
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| happy to be with her friends |
Saturday, May 21, 2011
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