Save Me From Myself

Have you been watching Extreme Couponing on TLC? No? What’s that you say? Huh. What is this LIFE that you speak of having?

I’m in love with the show, but mostly with the whole concept of saving a ridiculous amount of money by shopping sales and clipping coupons. I honestly just don’t think I’ve ever given it much thought. My mom used to clip coupons, I think, but hasn’t for years, and I always throw out circulars without looking at them like they’re trash (which, to be fair, I want them to be, especially when they’re wet from rain). I just didn’t realize how much you could save that way and how much sense it makes.

The people on the show are a little nuts. In a good way, potentially, but some of them stockpile 3,000 tubes of toothpaste and 1,500 boxes of cereal and have storage shelves built just for what they accumulate, and when they go to the store they buy $400 worth of stuff and pay $6. ARE YOU KIDDING ME.

For me, I’m talking more like…buying a few jars of peanut butter because they’re on sale for 3 for $5 instead of paying $2.77 when they’re not on sale, and then you don’t need peanut butter for…awhile. That’s kinda the speed I’m operating on right now. But! It’s still surprisingly fun and gratifying to get into it.

The timing of the show was good too. Lately I’ve been noticing that every so often we hit the grocery store and spend $200, and it just…doesn’t make sense. I don’t have kids. I don’t buy a ton of organic or unnecessary stuff. So we decided to try it out first with CVS and Walgreens. It nicely coincided with my school vacation, which gave me time to go through the circulars, figure out what we wanted, and, yes, spend 40 minutes wandering around the drugstore and asking for a few price checks.

It requires getting over the ghetto factor (but I don’t wanna be the lady with a cart at CVS!) and the annoying-the-people-behind-you factor (I never wanted to be the one causing a line with my truckloads of stuff, PLEASE OPEN ANOTHER REGISTER FOR THE LOVE OF GOD I CAN FEEL THAT WOMAN’S HATRED BURNING A HOLE IN THE BACK OF MY HEAD).

When all was said and done, we spent $240 for $374 worth of stuff. Not exactly TLC worthy, but a savings of $134 and we now have a stockpile of the aforementioned peanut butter, cereal, crackers, vitamin waters, paper towels, toilet paper, aluminum foil, assorted medications, bags, laundry detergent, makeup remover, shave gel, toothpaste, body wash, and a year’s worth (truly) of hand soap and deodorant. We only bought the things that we legit use and need. There was some brand compromise, like Tide instead of All, but nothing major. I think the grocery store bill will be significantly less without all the extra (non-sale) things we end up needing and grabbing. And the buzz of saving was really worth any hassle of searching and clipping and the actual shopping.

In related news, it’s 4:00. WHERE’S MY DINNER.

Boston Marathon

Don’t Mess With The Bull, Young Man. You’ll Get the Horns.

I decided to apply for a CAGS program because OMG, I don’t already have enough acronyms in my life. It stands for Clearly an Asshole to Go back to School Certificate of Advanced Graduate Study.

It’s not quite as intense because it’s part-time but basically feels like another master’s program which, oh GOD. SCHOOL? AGAIN? CLASSES? AT NIGHT? AGAIN??? Who will watch the wine? And the DVR?

Yeah, so clearly I have good, solid reasons for putting this off. This particular acronym would license me to be a school principal, a position which has been intriguing me for awhile now, or possibly a cool position in Some Other Edumacational Thing, Who Knows (that’s what my business cards will say). And while right now I don’t have any pressing need to leave my current beloved acronym, it will be nice to have options for moving up in the world and whatever crap you say when you decide to enter into a 21-month cycle of academic mindfuckery.

Okay, to be honest, I was truly interested and inspired after attending the information session. I met with the director of the program, and it definitely got me energized about the possibilities (and yes, the papers I’ll be able to write. DORK).

But, you know, the idea of being a school principal is exciting until you suddenly start to remember those who have come before…and the fact that NO MCFLY EVER AMOUNTED TO ANYTHING IN THE HISTORY OF HILL VALLEY!

Also, WHO THE CRAP is that other guy in the Saved by the Bell picture?

Things I Can’t Write On Your Wall

What I want to write:
Happy birthday to the guy who took a great picture of my friend and I at a bar that one time with your camera, so a Facebook friendship was the only way to acquire said picture. Remember how you misheard my name and kept calling me Megan? Which doesn’t rhyme or even have the same first letter as my name? You seemed nice.

What a decent person would write:
Happy birthday!

What I want to write:
Hey, happy birthday! I think I’ll celebrate by being mean to a waitress, dragging your boyfriend into a ladies room, and yelling at your friends, and then posting all the pictures tomorrow morning like it was a totally normal night. You know, CAUSE THAT’S HOW YOU CELEBRATED MINE.

What a decent person would write:
Happy birthday!

What I want to write:
It was nice meeting you while rocking out to a 90s tribute band, especially when we did that impromptu interpretive dance to She’s Like the Wind, and then you yelled ARE YOU ON FACEBOOK and I handed you my phone so you could add yourself at which point you could’ve totally run out the door with my phone so thanks for not doing that.

What a decent person would write:
It was nice meeting you too!

What I want to write:
Thanks for the friend request. Do I know you? I couldn’t help but notice that your interests include metal, smoking weed alot, and I have a girlfriend. It’s like…it’s like YOU CAN SEE INTO MY SOUL.

What a decent person would write:
["Ignore"]

What I want to write:
Yes, I meant to delete you. You’re my ex-roommate’s ex-girlfriend, you’re 20 years old, and you update incessantly and giddily about how you’re SO GOING TO MARRY your new boyfriend. How could I have known I’d then randomly run into you at a baseball game in Seattle?!? I’m never deleting anyone EVER AGAIN.

What a decent person would write:
I know, funny seeing you in Seattle. Small world!

What I want to write:
Are you fucking serious that you’re having a baby shower for your fifth child? How many bjorns can a girl have?

What a decent person would write:
Are. You. Fucking. SERIOUS.

State of the Union

1. What did you do in 2010 that you’d never done before?
I started learning to play the piano. I took up running and ran a 5k on Thanksgiving. I got into photography and upgraded from my (beloved!) pink Canon Powershot to a Nikon D3100, so fancy it has its own Dummies book, clearly written with me in mind. I had my kitchen ripped apart and redone. I road tripped to Baltimore for baseball games. I visited Seattle (also for baseball!).

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

Um, I don’t think I made any. So, for next year: Run a 10k. Continue learning piano. Learn more about photography. Pay off credit card. Read more. Write more. Lose about, oh, 50 pounds.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

Yes, a friend who had tried for a very long time, which made it all the more celebratory. At her shower her sister gave her a onesie that said “worth the wait” and there wasn’t a dry eye in the place.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

No, thankfully. But a friend of mine lost a friend very unexpectedly and very young, which really makes you think about how short life is and how much we focus on stupid crap that doesn’t matter.

5. What countries did you visit?
Just this one.

6. What would you like to have in 2011 that you lacked in 2010?
A little more motivation, which I’ll probably say every time I answer this question. But I did much better with the motivation in 2010 than in past years.

7. What dates from 2010 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
June 17th, when I realized I was in love.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Training for and completing the 5k. It’s hard to explain what it’s like to get into running when running has always been The Thing You Said You Couldn’t Do. I’d encourage anyone who thinks they might like it to try it. It’s the most challenging and rewarding workout I’ve ever done, and you see improvement from week to week, which is really encouraging.

9. What was your biggest failure?
Letting an ongoing dysfunctional relationship with a family member continue to be, well, dysfunctional. I feel truly stymied by my love and devotion to them, contrasted with their inability to release me from their judgment and criticism. I just hope it doesn’t come to a breaking point and I try to keep it good.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Some hip stress from running, resulting in the chiropractor’s advice to use the elliptical for now until I’m all fixed up. But I’ll be back. (Oh, also? HIP STRESS. I AM 90.)

11. What was the best thing you bought?
My iPhone. Best and worst!

12. Where did most of your money go?
Bills.

13. What did you get really excited about?
I was really happy to reconnect with Carly.

14. What song will always remind you of 2010?
Love The Way You Lie. It’s a good song, although the ridiculous line “now you get to watch her leave out the window, guess that’s why they call it windowpane” always annoys me.

15. Compared to this time last year, are you:

Happier or sadder? Happier.
Thinner or fatter? A little thinner.
Richer or poorer? Probably about the same. Must save more!

16. What do you wish you’d done more of?

Traveled. Written. Read. Exercised.

17. What do you wish you’d done less of?

Stress. Second guess myself.

18. How did you spend Christmas?
With my family.

19. What was your favorite TV program?
I was trapped in the epic ending of Lost for a good portion of the year.

20. What were your favorite books of the year?
Gah, I barely read ANYTHING. Sad. I’m trying to turn that tide, because I love reading, I just got so caught up in all the new techy devices in my life this year.

21. What was your favorite music from this year?

I found Feist, Ingrid Michaelson and Jaymay on a friend’s recommendation. Love The Darkest Night of the Year by Over the Rhine. Wore out the Wicked soundtrack and worshipped at the altar of Idina Menzel. And I like Kanye West’s new album.

22. What were your favorite films of the year?
It’s a short list, because I hardly ever go to the movies unless there’s something I’m dying to see. My favorite movie that I saw this year was probably New York, I Love You, though that came out last year. Is there a special worst movie category for Sex and the City 2? Shame on you, ladies.

23. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
The night before, had a crazy night at the Skellig with friends. The actual night, went to see Wicked and had an unbelievable dinner at Mooo with my parents and Mike. I turned 33.

24. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
I don’t know. It was pretty satisfying, as far as years go.

25. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2010?
Um, jeans.

26. What kept you sane?
My friends. My coworkers. Wine?

27. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2010.

Life is so very short. Be happy. Be around people who make you happy. Do work that makes you happy (for the most part). Be grateful for how lucky you are. Start more sentences with “be.”

Monkey See, Monkey Do

Boss got me an iPad. And the angels sang.

I was a little ambivalent at first, after hearing all the hype about Yet Another Thing With Bells And Whistles, the possible redundancy (MacBook is too big, iPhone is too small, and the third porridge was just right?), and the awkward size (do I carry it in my bag? In the rain? Do you do it on a train?). Not to mention the unfortunate Kotex connotations.

But, sure enough, iUnderestimated the magical mind control that is Apple, and once this thing is in your hands you don’t know how you lived without it for so long and then no no I’m listening to you I can listen and type at the same time there’s actually an app for that wait come on man I need it what do you mean 10% battery remaining DEAR GOD I NEED MORE TIME. Heroin, essentially, peddled on a virtual street corner by Steve Jobs, bundled up in a sleek, sexy, smug little package that’s really more like a candy wrapper than a carrying case and have I mentioned that we’re in love and registered at Crate and Barrel?

The iPad also makes you say crazy shit like, “Look at this Shakespeare app! It’s free! And it has all his plays! I can read any of his PLAYS anytime for FREE!” when you vaguely recall using the enormous volume of his plays as a makeshift iron in college, and besides, hasn’t that ramby, tangled Old English secretly kinda pissed you off since high school? Or, “Look at my Supermarket Mania app! You stock the shelves and pick up trash and if you’re slow the customers get MAD!” when in real life sometimes making a quick post-work and pre-taco night stop at Shaw’s seems completely exhausting. How things that sound like an absolute nightmare in real life make for giddily fun games, I’ll never understand. (I’m looking at you, Frontierville players. I’m pretty sure the actual frontier was sorta exhausting. Also, those bonnets.)

So they organized a training for the havers of the iPads in my district, which Boss attended. While our relationship has been mostly good, she’s usually only around for dire situations as opposed to day to day stuff, so we’re sort of conditioned to fear her, or at least associate her with chaos and duress. It’s not even entirely her fault, since the gist of her job is to run around putting out fires. (No, I’m not a firefighter. You’re so literal. But pretty. I’ll excuse it this one time.)

So, seeing Boss triggers a bit of the fight or flight response, but I tried my best to squelch that this particular day. It should’ve been an endless day in a stuffy room because that’s what all trainings held by every company since the beginning of time are required by law to be, but it was actually very interesting, bordering on damn near inspiring, because one of the Apple guys came out to get us all fired up.

Toward the end of the training, the Inspirational Apple Man paired us up to do a quick project. Because the universe prefers me bent over, I was matched up with Boss. As far as I know, this is a woman who communicates in questions that contain two words at the absolute most (“Goals met? Making progress?”) so I wasn’t sure how an actual conversation with, you know, sentences and prepositions would play out.

The directions for the longest 20 minutes of my life were to imagine that we had to assemble an exhibit for a zoo animal, the purpose basically to illustrate that we can use the iPad for many a purpose: pictures, media, text-to-speak, oh my. Boss and I chose a monkey for our zoo animal. Inspirational Apple Man said that wasn’t specific enough, and Boss narrowed it to white monkey. Okay, sure.

We turned toward each other, me with a hesitant smile, her with the unblinking eye of evil, and I suggested that we start by googling our animal and progress from there. I typed in “white monkey,” expecting:

And saw…well. See for yourself. The third hit, specifically.

All right, Urban Dictionary. First? Big fan. I’ve learned so much from you. But…BUT. ARE YOU KIDDING ME. While I appreciate efficiency in all its forms, and while I do typically prefer curiously named sex acts to be explained to me in extensive detail, preferably involving Power Point, in this particular situation I would have been MORE than happy to have had to click on your site to get that helpful nugget of information, rather than have it pop right up on the screen.

But no. There it was. THERE IT GODDAMN WAS.

Of course Boss saw it. When something like that is on your screen, who would bother to read about white monkey tea, apparently a Chinese delicacy?

There was a beat, during which I had a nervous breakdown. She said, “Good Catholic girls don’t talk about things like that.” I wanted to reply that even dirty chicks don’t usually talk about that, but why split hairs.

Instead I said, “Um. Why don’t I try googling white monkey at the zoo?” which had much more churchgoer-friendly results.

And shortly after that I used my iPad to spell check my resume, ultimately proving the point that there really isn’t anything that little piece of technological wizardry can’t do. Aside from help you hold onto your job and dignity, of course.

100 Things

1. I bruise like a peach and burn like a lobster.

2. I love the sun. But the sun doesn’t love me. So I also love SPF 70.

3. I love hole in the walls and dive bars. Anyplace where the people are nice, the drinks are cold, and the Sox are on.

4. I appreciate dry, dirty, sarcastic, politically incorrect humor.

5. On the flip side of that, I’m a pretty sunny, happy person. I’ll go ahead and smack myself in the mouth for you.

6. I guess my biggest pet peeve is people who are whiny little bitches about everything, because shut up.

7. On my first report card, my teacher fucking sold me out previewed my lifelong hatred of math when she wrote, “Red will occasionally use her fingers to count.” Then what are they there for, woman?

8. On the other hand, I’ve always loved to write. I used to wake up early and write long, meandering stories about My Little Ponies and Care Bears and Tom Sawyer.

9. Here’s an excerpt. You might recognize it from all the months it spent on the New York Times Bestseller List: “Firefly spread her wings and flew into the sky. Come back! shouted Burning Beauty. It’s dangeres! cried Applejack. Where are you going? screamed Twilight. To get help! answered Firefly. Oh no! cried Moondancer. Meanwhile at the castle…”

10. I love salt. And any kind of sauce. And SALT.

11. People ask me how I can work with little kids all day, isn’t it exhausting? For me it would be exhausting to not.

12. I found my way into my job in a roundabout, serendipitous way. I always feel lucky and appreciative about that.

13. Granted, I killed myself to get there. I spent grad school working during the day and going to classes at night. I’m very glad I did it, but very glad it’s over.

14. I love nice people, but not when they end up being super boring.

15. I love funny people, but not when they turn out to be assholes.

16. I love the website 1000awesomethings.com. I think looking for and expecting to find things that are awesome shifts your whole frame of reference.

17. Sometimes I find it easier to connect with guys because they tend to be simpler, but god, I love my girl friends. I’ve learned to be pretty picky about the women I get close to. Men can be stupid, but women can really be evil shrews. I’ve learned this as much from other people as from being something of a reformed evil shrew myself.

18. Having said all that, I’m very lucky to have awesome friends.

19. I’m one of those obnoxious New Englanders who can argue the virtues of all four seasons. I don’t even mind when it gets dark early in the winter. I think it’s cozy.

20. Movies I know by heart: Dazed and Confused, Heathers, Clerks, The Princess Bride, Clueless, Back to the Future, Napoleon Dynamite, Reality Bites, Singles, Labyrinth, It’s A Wonderful Life (thanks dad), The Breakfast Club, Wedding Crashers, Forgetting Sarah Marshall, Knocked Up, Superbad, The 40 Year Old Virgin, and Talladega Nights. Oh yeahhhh.

21. I’m addicted to mints and gum.

22. And lip balm, specifically Blistex Lip Tone. Anytime I see it at CVS I buy 97,824. If they ever stop making it I’m screwed.

23. Apparently I’m an ENFP. It sounds about right, not that I’m sure what to do with so much hypothetical information about myself.

24. I’m pretty friendly and can usually find a way to chat it up with just about anyone, if I need to. This makes me a good wedding date, but also means that I sometimes get stuck playing the always tricky How Do I Get Away From This Asshat? game.

25. I can handle any guy in any bar. I’ve heard it all before.

26. I like to read books about random crap, like Some Obscure Event that happened in 1907 or sleep disorders. Or as my friend Jenn says, “books that NO ONE else would ever read.”

27. I have that, and a million other things, in common with my dad.

28. My mom and dad met at work. Their first date was at the S&S in Cambridge. They’ll be married for 35 years in October.

29. They wanted to have more kids, but ended up with just me. I wish that I had siblings, but what can you do?

30. Instead I have an adopted older sister. She means the world to me. So do her kids.

31. I love baseball. I love the Red Sox. I love everything about Fenway.

32. I’d sooner wear a Yankees hat than a pink hat.

33. I have the tiniest Boston accent.

34. I aspire to be a badass chick who orders something brown at a bar, but I’m a wino. My drink at home is white fridge wine rounded out with grape sparkling water. Stay klassy.

35. I hate passive-aggressiveness. I’d rather you punch me in the face than talk about me behind my back.

36. I won’t hit you back. But mostly because I’ve never thrown a punch and I’m not awesome at comebacks. But I WILL call you a day later and tell you that the jerk store called and they’re running out of you. So be ready.

37. I love spas and products and fancy lotion in heavy glass jars. I’m very girly about products.

38. I have a recurring dream about missing the school bus.

39. I used to teach ESL to adults at night. It was fun. I have so much respect for people who endeavor to learn English as adults.

40. On the other hand, a big pet peeve of mine is people who live here and have children and don’t learn English.

41. I get cranky when I’m really hungry or really tired or when my house is a mess.

42. I hate the show Everybody Loves Raymond. I don’t like the generic humor, and I also don’t like when marriage gets portrayed as one long, boring, impatient eyeroll. It’s shows like that that keep single people promiscuous.

43. I used to test the hearing of newborn babies at a hospital in Boston using auditory brainstem response equipment once a week. It was so neat, and the babies were so wiggly and new.

44. I love bad soft rock from the 80s. Love. It. Hello? Is it me you’re looking for?

45. I dropped out of Girl Scouts because I hated them, all of them, and their stupid badges.

46. Fine, I may have been asked to leave. Fuck ‘em!

47. Sometimes I think I want to get my doctorate, but then I’m like, I wonder what’s happening on Gray’s Anatomy this week.

48. I don’t like the letter shows (CSI, SVU).

49. I don’t like violent or scary TV shows or movies in general. Scary movies seem like a good idea at the time, during the day, and then all I can think of when I’m trying to fall asleep is Linda Blair upside down on the staricase. Oh my god. Why did I just type that?

50. I harbor a shameless love for chick flicks and Sex and the City, but they’re such shit. I mean they’re just SHIT. Intellectually I know this, but rin reality I wanna make out with them in the bathroom at the bar.

51. I don’t really like anything floral: patterns, perfumes. But I love actual flowers. I especially love yellow tulips.

52. I’m such an albino. It sucks a little, but what can you do? I’m so pale that random people comment on it, which is rude. I don’t comment on your muffin top or male pattern baldness.

53. I’ve been to Bermuda, Bahamas (come on pretty mama), St. Maarten, St. Thomas, and Mexico, but not Europe yet. How lame am I? But on the flip side, how much of a thorough spring breaker?

54. I appreciate privacy but hate secrets. I try to be pretty transparent and am a little unnerved when people that I’m close to keep their walls up.

55. I love kitschy places and think they’re totally fun. Niagara Falls is priceless. And Epcot Center…welcome to Germany, it’s Oktoberfest! Hey, it’s Canada, look at this maple leaf. Cultural stereotypes and non-ironic ignorance are basically hilarious.

56. I can appreciate good looking actors and actresses, but I don’t really get crushes on them. My one big crush is Jason Varitek. And firemen, but mostly in theory, and mostly from a distance. It’s the whole uniform, truck, and hero thing.

57. I love amusement parks, street fairs, flea markets, and used bookstores.

58. My favorite used bookstore is called Isaiah Thomas. It’s in a huge pink Victorian house in Cotuit, on the Cape. It’s an amazing place. It’s also the place where I happened to find the book that led to be quitting my job and switching careers.

59. I have a chicken pock scar behind my ear.

60. I love spicy food.

61. I could imagine getting into gardening when I retire.

62. I have so many interests and potential interests that I really can’t imagine being bored.

63. My favorite movie is Breakfast at Tiffany’s.

64. I’d love a print of the moment where George Peppard and Audrey Hepburn are shot from below in New York City, the one where she’s in pigtails. I’ve never been able to find it.

65. I’m a little Holly Golightly and a little Bridget Jones.

66. Who the hell likens themselves to Audrey Hepburn? I’m Bridget all the way.

67. I’ve donated to Locks of Love twice. It’s a great organization.

68. I love soup.

69. I spent all my summers growing up going to the Balsams, a resort in New Hampshire, and continue to go with my family. It’s so close to my heart. It was also apparently Stephen King’s inspiration for The Shining. I try not to think about that.

70. I turn pink easily. It’s probably rosacea or whatever. People comment on it all the time. My pinkness, and my paleness. I hear about it a lot.

71. I want to travel everywhere, but I can’t imagine living anywhere else. I’m a total Boston girl.

72. My dream trip is Italy.

73. I have a lot of fascination with books and documentaries about serial killers and sociopaths. The concept of people being fundamentally broken is really interesting.

74. I’d be a terrible serial killer. I’d probably leave my cell phone behind. And an apology note.

75. The best breakfast I ever had in a restaurant was a shiitake mushroom omelet from Hank’s Diner in Chadds Ford, PA.

76. The best dinner…hmm. Roasted butternut and cider soup with pumpkin seed oil and creme fraiche from Sonsie, black and white truffle mac and cheese from Chillingsworth, baked goat cheese and bread from Dali, and Umbagog mud pie from the Balsams. And Cakebread chardonnay.

77. I have an irrational fear of mice. It extends to hamsters, gerbils, sometimes even chipmunks.

78. When I was born, the doctor said, “Look at the shoulders on this kid, he’s gonna play football.” And then, “oh, it’s a girl!”

79. I broke my wrist playing dodgeball in sixth grade and my toe dancing around in my basement to She’s An Angel by They Might Be Giants in high school.

80. I’m a Libra. Whatever that means. I do like having an October birthday. It’s such an awesome month. And I LOVE Halloween.

81. I was never a bad kid, but always very mischievous and, you know, redheaded. I horrified my mother by demanding to date when I was 11. I’ll probably end up with a daughter exactly like me.

82. I’m not too big on TV. I like Sox games and reruns of The Office and Seinfeld. But I love epic shows like My So-Called Life, Dexter, Lost. They don’t come along very often.

83. Famous people I’ve met: Drew Carey, Ryan Reynolds, Thurman Thomas. It was all within a one week span in 1999. Apparently all the famous people hang out in Orlando.

84. I’d never make it on Survivor. I’d cry and beg for shampoo, rice, a helicopter, you name it.

85. My last name is super generic. It implies government mind control and baby powder.

86. I love purple: calla lilies, my bamboo flowers duvet, grape lollipops.

87. Though I’ve decided not to a couple times, I’m not opposed to getting married. In fact it’s definitely something I want. Maybe surprisingly, I’m a little bit traditional.

88. I love Anthony Bourdain, David Sedaris, and Sarah Silverman.

89. I love honey crisp apples. Their season is kinda blink-and-you’ll-miss-it, but so worth it.

90. I love restaurants with sidewalk chalkboard menus, outside seating, and white lights on trees.

91. My favorite ice cream is chocolate chip. Though on those really hot days, the kind where you go to a movie for the air-conditioning, rainbow sherbet is pretty awesome.

92. I love the Cape. I love watching the Sox at the Popponesset raw bar, the New Seabury beach, and going to the grocery store in flip flops and wet hair for peaches and cherries and corn on the cob.

93. I was really close to my grandfather. He passed away when I was nine. I have a little plaque in my bedroom that he always had in his office: “You can always tell a Swede but you can’t tell him much.” It took my grandmother years to find it and when she did she gave it to me for Christmas. It was the best gift ever.

94. My favorite books…Travels with Charley, The World According to Garp, She’s Come Undone, The Great Gatsby. I love to read.

95. I love extreme weather…snow, thunderstorms, heat. I love when there’s breaking news and they tell you not to go outside.

96. I love the sound of rain on the windows when I’m sleeping.

97. If I ever get a dog I’d like to name him Noodle.

98. I swam with a dolphin once in the Bahamas. The trainer said I aroused him and then called me a “dirty, dirty girl” in front of everyone in our dolphin class. For the record, Flipper was totally asking for it.

99. I had to go to the hospital once for x-rays when I was little. I was really scared, so first they x-rayed my Cabbage Patch kid.

100. I’m learning to play the piano. I’ve always wanted to, so the fact that I finally am is pretty dreamy.

Don’t Drink The Kool-Aid

I’ve finally found my way to Curb Your Enthusiasm, and people, it’s true love. I heart Larry David so much I want to doodle his name all over my Trapper Keeper. I think I could be entertained listening to him read the Gideon Bible.

No offense, Gideons. But you do just give your gospel away for free in hotel room drawers. Maybe if you made me work for it a bit, you know? I don’t even have to buy you a drink first. You’re kind of like the hooker of religions, if you think about it. You’re totally a forty six year old wearing leather and too much eyeliner waiting in the lobby.

So, yeah. The beauty of Larry David’s character is that he’s well-intentioned but always ends up in awkward situations and then exacerbates the awkward. Not unlike SOMEONE ELSE YOU KNOW. Ahem. Roll tape.

I’m redoing my kitchen. And by “I’m” I mean random collections of sweaty men. Usually I’m not home when the magic happens, but this week I’m on school vacation. Actually, there was an electrician here yesterday swearing up a blue streak when I happened to walk downstairs. I walked out of my bedroom and froze when I heard him ranting; it’s a discombobulating thing to hear a stranger pitching a fit in your front hall. Five seconds after “fuck balls” was coming out of his mouth he was apologizing profusely “for using profanity like that in front of an angel.” Okay then.

So anyway, granite, new cabinets, new appliances. I basically waited until everything in my kitchen was broken or 1,000 years old before taking the plunge. And hey, we all have to do our part to support the economy. The carpenter is the one in charge of everything, and he does awesome work. This week I’ve been bringing him Dunkacinnos and promising not to touch his power tools.

The other day I was eating lunch with him. He held up his energy drink so I could see it and said, “Hey, have you tried these?”

“Mmm, no…I think there’s some Red Bulls in the fridge, though.”

“These are MUCH better than Red Bull. They’re not too sugary. They give you a really natural energy boost. There’s no crash afterwards. They have all these vitamins. They’re really healthy. And they taste really good.”

“Ha, what, do you work for them?” Um, yeah, turns out HE DOES. He sells these random energy drinks on the side. And so began him working references to free radicals and antioxidants into totally unrelated conversations in painfully obvious ways.

I was escaping yesterday when he stopped to show me what he’d put in my fridge. It looks like a bottle of red wine and retails for the totally reasonable $37. If I have that amount of money to spend on an energy supplement, it’s going to be crystal meth, am I right? Can I get a what what?

“Drink about two ounces,” he tells me. I nod as if I understand how much two ounces is. And when I get back home after he’s left, I put a little in a cup. It looks like purple sludge. It tastes like purple sludge. I look through my fridge at what I can add to it (Grey Goose? I’m on vacation, people!) and settle on Sprite Zero.

No dice. The magical acai berry It still tastes like grape-flavored ass. And it’d be easier to avoid the sales pitch if the juice salesman wasn’t camped out in my kitchen as I type this.

Death By Chick Flick

I watched 27 Dresses recently. If I had had tomatoes, well, I would’ve made a yummy salad with basil and olive oil. And then I would’ve thrown them at the screen. Any other hecklers of premium cable out there? Because OHMYGOD.

Listen, I love a good chick flick. My Netflix list is unapologetically filled with them. When You’ve Got Mail or The Wedding Planner is starting on TBS, it’s like a subliminal tractor beam: ”Yeah, you’re doing THIS now. On the couch with you, woman. Text your girlfriends, I lured them in, too.” How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days could be subtitled How To Lose Your Afternoon For 2 Hours. It’s like there’s a Sweet Home Muscle Relaxer that incapacitates us, so we’re glassy-eyed and glued to the screen, helpless to do anything but listen to Reese Witherspoon’s taffy-spun Southern accent that she flips on and off like a buttermilk light switch.

Let’s explore the recipe.

Start with a boy and girl. Girl is likable and a little too neurotic, and has some crappy job that she hates but stays at for the sake of comfort. Boy is likable and a little too quirky for Girl. Boy and Girl don’t like each other, yet improbable events force them into each other’s orbit. They reluctantly start to warm up to each other. Girl gets drunk and sings karaoke, which is how Boy sees that she’s not so uptight (I don’t know about you, but most of my relationships begin with a little cocktail-fueled Copacabana). Boy and Girl kiss, usually because Girl accidentally falls into Boy’s arms, which is realistic because things like that happen all the time. Boy’s love emancipates Girl and she quits her job, in a glorious, triumphant moment. Her former colleagues may actually applaud her on the way out the door; no need for two weeks notice or an awkward resignation conversation with a boss. Then: wedding! And at the wedding, Girl’s best friend, a wacky but lovable tramp, and his, a goofy but lovable doofus, exchange a long look or inside joke, reassuring the audience that they’re about to take the plunge as well, and yes, even tramps and doofuses need love too. Cue up a John Mayer song to play us out, credits.

It’s impossible not to kinda-sorta-begrudgingly love chick flicks, because there are so many of them scattered throughout our memories. Whenever I see Steel Magnolias or When Harry Met Sally, I remember all the parts my mom laughed at, while I listened from the other room, intrigued as any kid by a movie that was too grown up to watch. When I was in college, I saw Titanic three times in the theater and Ever After twice. A couple friends and I once spent an entire Saturday wrapped in the evil, sobbing clutches of The Bridges of Madison County (that’s a movie you need to sleep off to recover from, I swear). I can argue that some aren’t complete dreck (The Holiday has Kate Winslet! And England!). It’s an undeniable fact that I’m more like Bridget Jones than myself sometimes. And yet…

The intellectual in me (believe me, I’ve tried to kill her with Us Weekly and googling the correct spelling of Kristin Cavallari, but she exists) has her arms crossed across her chest, glaring at me through bifocals every time I watch one of them. And what can I say for myself, really? Chick flicks do little but make going back to your ex or trying to reform a total mess of a guy seem like a great idea. They reinforce that when you’re single and struggling with a job you’re a “before,” toiling away as a nobody until you finally put on a wedding dress and become an “after” (so far as I can tell, it’s the airbrushed wedding, not a happy marriage, that’s key in chick flicks). I swear one of my roommates married her first husband because she was in a sentimental mood after watching Drew Barrymore on the pitcher’s mound in Never Been Kissed, a sweet little scene that played out to the strains of the Beach Boys.

Don’t worry, baby. They had it annulled a few months later.

iDon’t Even Know Anymore

My reluctance to board the technology train is well-documented. And see? Even the metaphor I just used is outdated. Ahem, my reluctance to board the technology HIGH SPEED RED EYE ACELA is well-documented.

You may have already heard about this on the news, but I got an iPhone. Ultimately I decided that it would enable me to communicate most productively and effectively and OMG THEY HAVE A SKEE-BALL APP! As far as phones go, it’s pretty, um, spectacular. It seemed like overnight it went from “whaaaat how do I use this?” to basically not reading books anymore. We’re in our honeymoon phase, I guess. I hope? Literacy is a big price to pay. But whatever, there’s probably an app for that too.

My cell phone history is spotty (oh snap) at best. The first time mine rang it was maybe 1999 and my friend Jason was calling it. I didn’t even know my number or how to answer it, and it was big enough that the scene in My Best Friend’s Wedding when Julia Roberts chats with Rupert Everett on what can only be described as a ginormous lockbox comes to mind.

Since then the various incarnations of my cell phone and I have had some adventures. When my godkids were younger I programmed Santa in to get them to go to sleep (nothing like “now calling Santa” to scare little kids straight around the holidays). I had a Radio Shack employee call his buddies over to openly mock my StarTac, way past its prime even in 2004. I had a guy I was dating text me to say that he loved me (for the first time) while I was watching a movie in a theater. It worked a little bit better because of the context (I was watching Once in Harvard Square with a friend and smuggled Patron, and not Transformers 2: Revenge of the Fallen at the Framingham 14 with fourth graders and smuggled Jujubes). And to be fair, I was with him for a long time after that, so it ended up being a sorta cute anecdote rather than eww this dude just professed his love via SMS.

We’re at a place now where your cell phone isn’t even your cell phone, it’s just your phone. Though I’m trying to wean myself off of it, I’m still one of those dinosaurs who still has a home phone. So yeah, I know, I’m a total pterodactyl. But I own it. Roar. Or, uh, whatever sound a pterodactyl makes. Maybe they just screech and spit venom at Newman.

DEAR GOD, a Jurassic Park reference. Forget it, I’m a senior citizen.