Friday, August 29, 2008

Go See This

Hello Interweb peeps. It is now time for proud bruddah pluggings.

My sister Mary is in a show at the DeCordova Museum in Lincoln, Ma. The show is called "Drawn to Detail" and it is showing from August 30th (that's tomorrow) through January 4th. The opening night is this upcoming Thursday, September 4th from 7 - 9 pm. Click on the linky thing there to get more details. I'll be there, will you? Come on down if you're in the area and see some wicked good ahhhhht.

Sunday, August 24, 2008

Quick Update

The coffin for the PS3 arrived on Friday and at this very moment it is on its way back to Japan. I'm told that the new one will arrive within a week or so. Hope so...those virtual missions aren't gonna solve themselves.

In Neon news: the Neon is gone. They were scheduled to come pick it up for the donation tomorrow (Monday) but on Friday when we got home, there was a big ol' flatbed truck waiting for us. They loaded the car and off they went. It didn't even occur to me until after they were gone that maybe I should have taken one last picture of the little car. Meh. I did the typical Irish Catholic thing and pretended that nothing was wrong.

Monday, August 18, 2008

Rest in Peace Playstation 3

On Sunday August 17th my Playstation 3 passed away suddenly of optical drive cancer. It was 9 months old. Funeral services will be held in Japan as soon as arrangements can be made. Playstation 3 leaves behind many games such as GTA IV and Gran Turismo 5 Prologue.

When reached for a comment I said, "Motherfucker work! Work damn you! Don't you leave me! Don't you LEAVE ME!" and then began sobbing like a little bitch. A wake will be held in my living room tonight and every night until I can get the replacement back from Sony. Scotch and bitterness will be served.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Everybody Has Their Own Opinion

Back in 1991 I was living in semi-squalor in Jamaica Plain (Haverford Street HOLLA!). I'm not saying the apartment was messy but that was only because my roommates and I didn't own much of anything. We had a stack of empty beer bottles that we would store next to the refrigerator until we had accumulated enough empties to turn in to buy a case of beer. We'd load them into my roomie Sterling's (also known as "Girl-ing") little pickup and zip over to Blanchard's on Center St. and repeat the process.

My room was (eventually) the little one off of the kitchen at the back of the house. I had a mattress (no bed frame...not even a box spring, just a full-size mattress on the floor. What's up ladies?), a bass amp and a bunch of milk crates into which I crammed all my clothes. Our apartment was the first floor of a triple decker and we got broken into a few times. Once they dumped my other roomie Dave's change jar onto his bed and took only the nickles, dimes and quarters. That takes TIME people. They actually picked through my CDs and didn't take any. Well, fuck you too Mr. Crackhead burglar. I have excellent taste in music thank you very much.

Right next to our house was an empty lot where the neighborhood kids would play a hybrid version of football and soccer. Basically it was soccer played with an football that had a slow leak. The rules of said game were in a constant flux. This usually meant that they would end up playing in our yard too which was fine really since we weren't using it. They had spilled into our yard so many times during these marathon games that I'm not sure we could have kept them out even if we wanted to. It had become common ground to them. I would typically drown out their shrieking with obnoxiously loud music and/or booze (I must have been a terrible roommate actually. I was dirt poor and really bad at managing what money I did have. I was constantly late with rent and my share of the bills plus I was loud. Wow, I suck). But one day the kids ruined me.

I had been trying to teach myself the bass guitar for a while (although never really committing to it in a significant way so every time I got the urge to pick it up and try again it was like starting at square one) so I was in my room with the bass amp up too loud trying to learn the opening of "Mountain Song" by Jane's Addiction (shut up. It was 1991). I would play the song on the CD and then try to mimic it not really knowing what I was doing (tuning? what's that? don't these things come, like, pre-tuned or whatever?). Over and over again I did this eventually making some progress in that it sort of almost sounded somewhat close if you tilted your head and had never heard the original song.

I was kinda psyched about my mad skills and then I noticed that it was now really, really quiet outside. I turned to look out one of the windows and was greeted with about 5 or 6 grinning faces all piled comically around the window. "What're you doin'?" one of them asked in a sing-song voice. "I'm, uh, playing the bass." I said and actually stood up to show them. "You're not very good." a little girl in the corner of the window said and they all burst into peals of laughter that at this very moment I can hear. Fuckers. They then took off and went back to making the world a more shrill place.

I'd like to say that I persevered and overcame my critics (especially since they were 7 years old, 8 tops) but I haven't. I eventually gave the amp and crappy bass to a friend who was in a band and needed them. At home right now I have another bass amp and bass guitar (no idea what kind..) and I'm thinking I should try again. Gone are the dreams of being like Bruce Foxton but maybe I can have some fun. Plus, I'll practice on the 2nd floor so the little shithead kids in my neighborhood can't offer their opinions.

Friday, August 8, 2008

Special Treat in my Lunch!

I love Peggy Lawton Choco-Chip cookies with all of my black little heart. The Wiff snuck a pack into my lunch (yes, I'm 5 years old) and I did a little dance in my cube. Hooray Amy!

Everything is Wet

Summer and I do not get along. I don't enjoy the heat and jeebus knows I don't handle humidity well. But this summer has been excessively humid in the Boston area. Every year I forget what it means to have a dewpoint in the high 60's or lower 70's but when it hits and then stays for months...I cease to function. Yes, I know I said the same thing about winter with the snow and blah blah blah but it still holds true that winter also overstays its welcome.

One of the worst parts about how many sticky, humid days as well as all the rain we've been getting lately is that everything in my house feels moist. Gah, that's a gross little word. mmmooooiisssssssssstt. It just feels damp. About 3 years ago we bought our first set of brand new living room furniture. This was a new concept for both of us having grown up with hand-me-down stuff as well as furnishing several apartments and eventually our house with a hodge-podge of stuff we got (mostly) for free over the years. I'm not putting down mix-and-match decorating but it just was time for us to have stuff that matched. So we bought it and it looks lovely.

an older pic but the layout is the same.

Here's the rub. We didn't opt for the stain guard chemical thing and we really should have. Not so much for the occassional spilling of beverage and/or dropping a bit of chicken tikki masala, but more so for the ... how do I put this ... summer months? You see? It's hot out? No air conditioning? ew(I should point out that this really only applies to my chair and not so much the couch where the Wiff tends to sit. She's nowhere near as gross as I am). And I'd like very much to shampoo the furniture but goddammit everything is already wet with the humidity. So I have to wait until the drier months come so that the cleaner will actually dry.

Also, I'm thinking we made a mistake buying furniture stuffed with down. I think (no actual proof mind you) that it feels hotter in the summer months than say foam would. I dunno just bring on September already will ya?