Thursday, September 27, 2007
Good News
I was glad to read this. This is one of my favorite tv shows this year. If you're not watching it already, you should be.
Monday, September 24, 2007
The Last Day of Summer
Summer. A season when the heat addles the mind, convinces you to take an extra step to soak up UV rays and skimpy dressing is acceptable. It is difficult writing in this entry, because this summer has been particularly sweet and I am sad to see it end. But like it says in Ecclesiastes....
For the official last day of summer I went to the beach with G and A. The day had the right feel. The morning was cool, perhaps a hint of Autumn, as I walked down to school adorned in a white hoodie, bikini, capri pants, flip flops, and a stuffed brightly colored beach bag. I felt like whistling down the empty street. I set up an experiment in a quiet peaceful lab, when my phone rang. It was A and G on their way.
They greeted me outside in a silver Ford Focus. In a moment of nostalgia, they reminded me of that movie, "the Flamingo Kid." G wore a small hat, like Matt Dillon's signature chapeau, and A just cut her blond hair in a fresh short bob, kind of like Janet Jones.
Road trip!
In the tradition of all great road trips, we got lost. We circled around a few times, made a few U-turns, and then decided to alter our plan and go to Crane's Beach. Having gotten there when it was overcast and 10am meant the parking lot was fairly empty. All the concession stands were closed. Summer was over according to the State of Massachusetts.
We found a spot on the squishy white sand. All three of us laid down to read our respective books. Actually come to think of it, the books we read reflected who we were quite well. I read a biography titled "Rosalind Franklin: the dark lady of DNA," A had her New Yorker open, and G was reading "Reading Comics."
I got tired of my book. The sun finally burnt through the clouds. I stripped to my swim suit, and tuned into a podcast of "Bill Moyer's Journal." It was a little depressing and so I switched to David Sedaris reading a chapter from "Naked." Somehow, when I emerged from my book slash podcast haze time and leap frogged foward to 12:30pm. Maybe I would venture into the water. Hmmmm... water at 65 degrees Fahrenheit perhaps it was better I stay on the sunny sand.
On occasion, G and A would share a playful couple's moment. Just like the Flamingo Kid.
We decided to wrap things up after my stomach's rumblings made themselves apparent. Next to the beach was a apple farm. Although we had no desire to pick apples, that did not mean we could not buy apples. I bought half a dozen apple cider doughnuts. I told the lady next to me that we planned to get fried clams and french fries right after the doughnuts. The woman winked and said "the Ipswich trifecta."
So after doughnuts, we stopped by the Clam Box and ate whole bellied clams, onion rings, and french fries. The mound of fried goodness overflowed the paper plate. On any other day I would say it was a fry-o-later overload, but for the last day of summer it was a perfect golden ending.
For the official last day of summer I went to the beach with G and A. The day had the right feel. The morning was cool, perhaps a hint of Autumn, as I walked down to school adorned in a white hoodie, bikini, capri pants, flip flops, and a stuffed brightly colored beach bag. I felt like whistling down the empty street. I set up an experiment in a quiet peaceful lab, when my phone rang. It was A and G on their way.
They greeted me outside in a silver Ford Focus. In a moment of nostalgia, they reminded me of that movie, "the Flamingo Kid." G wore a small hat, like Matt Dillon's signature chapeau, and A just cut her blond hair in a fresh short bob, kind of like Janet Jones.
Road trip!
In the tradition of all great road trips, we got lost. We circled around a few times, made a few U-turns, and then decided to alter our plan and go to Crane's Beach. Having gotten there when it was overcast and 10am meant the parking lot was fairly empty. All the concession stands were closed. Summer was over according to the State of Massachusetts.
We found a spot on the squishy white sand. All three of us laid down to read our respective books. Actually come to think of it, the books we read reflected who we were quite well. I read a biography titled "Rosalind Franklin: the dark lady of DNA," A had her New Yorker open, and G was reading "Reading Comics."
I got tired of my book. The sun finally burnt through the clouds. I stripped to my swim suit, and tuned into a podcast of "Bill Moyer's Journal." It was a little depressing and so I switched to David Sedaris reading a chapter from "Naked." Somehow, when I emerged from my book slash podcast haze time and leap frogged foward to 12:30pm. Maybe I would venture into the water. Hmmmm... water at 65 degrees Fahrenheit perhaps it was better I stay on the sunny sand.
On occasion, G and A would share a playful couple's moment. Just like the Flamingo Kid.
We decided to wrap things up after my stomach's rumblings made themselves apparent. Next to the beach was a apple farm. Although we had no desire to pick apples, that did not mean we could not buy apples. I bought half a dozen apple cider doughnuts. I told the lady next to me that we planned to get fried clams and french fries right after the doughnuts. The woman winked and said "the Ipswich trifecta."
So after doughnuts, we stopped by the Clam Box and ate whole bellied clams, onion rings, and french fries. The mound of fried goodness overflowed the paper plate. On any other day I would say it was a fry-o-later overload, but for the last day of summer it was a perfect golden ending.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Define: hottie
News a la CNN.com:
"Men want hot women, study confirms"
I am a great ...ahem...dare I say... student of the bar scene. From time to time, I like to share the wisdom I have gleaned from my forays to dating jungle.
My friend, AS is, for lack of a better term, a gigolo. He is also my friend and my wingman for the bar scene. We are comfortable scouting out a room for babes and studs and if things are not good, we are just as happy to chat with each other. We went to a Boston hotspot called 28 degrees. While waiting for the dinner crowd to leave, I mentioned the study about men choosing hot women, but leaving out what I thought was the most important fact. What does a man find physically attractive?
I have distilled the attractiveness factor to a point system. While many men of 28 degrees was interviewed for this survey remember the samples was mostly white New Englander's ranging from 25-42 in age.
Anything above zero is worth pursuing.
Long hair (+2pts) - Long hair is defined as anything past shoulder length and shorter than mid back. If the hair can reach a woman's ass, she then is put into the hippie category.
Overweight (-5pts) - The good news is that most men think of weight as a dichotomous variable. Women are either skinny or fat. The nuance between a size 2 and a 6 is lost on them.
Make-up (+4pts) - In a darkly lit bar, AS tried to convince me that a woman who was clearly in her 40s was in her 30s and one who was clearly in her late 30s as 50. The difference was the color palette the women used. Pinks are considered young. (A lot of foundation seemed to fool him too.) Also, anyone wearing mascara, eyeliner, or eyeshadow is considered to have make-up on. Lipgloss, rouge, and foundation is not noticed.
Asian (+2pts) - Unfortunately, it is also accompanied with the notion that Asian women are quiet, docile, sweet and incredibly kinky in the sack.
Blonde (+2pts) - Maybe that is why they have more fun.
Grumpy expression (-2pts) - While a smile is not a guarantee, a frown is definite turn-off unless the woman is being hit on by another dude.
Breasts (+5pts) - Self explanatory.
Height (-4pts) - Unless the guy is super short, the general rule is that he will only hit on girls that are shorter than he is.
Perfume (+1pt) - Pheromones be damned. Men like sweet scents like vanilla and other stuff that I would never go near.
Tactile fabrics (+1pt) - Don't know if this is just an excuse to touch a woman, but if she is wearing some thing particularly soft, crinkly, or rough she will be petted often.
Youth (+2pts) - There is a reason porn sites labeled "barely legal" are popular. However, most men's eyesight are not very keen. Please refer back to make-up.
As much as I would like to make a list of what women find attractive, I cannot. There was no consensus on anything so this was the only list I could make.
Good luck all you women and men out there. Remember all this information is not meant for long lasting relations. To be used for evil purposes only.
"Men want hot women, study confirms"
I am a great ...ahem...dare I say... student of the bar scene. From time to time, I like to share the wisdom I have gleaned from my forays to dating jungle.
My friend, AS is, for lack of a better term, a gigolo. He is also my friend and my wingman for the bar scene. We are comfortable scouting out a room for babes and studs and if things are not good, we are just as happy to chat with each other. We went to a Boston hotspot called 28 degrees. While waiting for the dinner crowd to leave, I mentioned the study about men choosing hot women, but leaving out what I thought was the most important fact. What does a man find physically attractive?
I have distilled the attractiveness factor to a point system. While many men of 28 degrees was interviewed for this survey remember the samples was mostly white New Englander's ranging from 25-42 in age.
Anything above zero is worth pursuing.
Long hair (+2pts) - Long hair is defined as anything past shoulder length and shorter than mid back. If the hair can reach a woman's ass, she then is put into the hippie category.
Overweight (-5pts) - The good news is that most men think of weight as a dichotomous variable. Women are either skinny or fat. The nuance between a size 2 and a 6 is lost on them.
Make-up (+4pts) - In a darkly lit bar, AS tried to convince me that a woman who was clearly in her 40s was in her 30s and one who was clearly in her late 30s as 50. The difference was the color palette the women used. Pinks are considered young. (A lot of foundation seemed to fool him too.) Also, anyone wearing mascara, eyeliner, or eyeshadow is considered to have make-up on. Lipgloss, rouge, and foundation is not noticed.
Asian (+2pts) - Unfortunately, it is also accompanied with the notion that Asian women are quiet, docile, sweet and incredibly kinky in the sack.
Blonde (+2pts) - Maybe that is why they have more fun.
Grumpy expression (-2pts) - While a smile is not a guarantee, a frown is definite turn-off unless the woman is being hit on by another dude.
Breasts (+5pts) - Self explanatory.
Height (-4pts) - Unless the guy is super short, the general rule is that he will only hit on girls that are shorter than he is.
Perfume (+1pt) - Pheromones be damned. Men like sweet scents like vanilla and other stuff that I would never go near.
Tactile fabrics (+1pt) - Don't know if this is just an excuse to touch a woman, but if she is wearing some thing particularly soft, crinkly, or rough she will be petted often.
Youth (+2pts) - There is a reason porn sites labeled "barely legal" are popular. However, most men's eyesight are not very keen. Please refer back to make-up.
As much as I would like to make a list of what women find attractive, I cannot. There was no consensus on anything so this was the only list I could make.
Good luck all you women and men out there. Remember all this information is not meant for long lasting relations. To be used for evil purposes only.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
a different perspective
This is an exchange that Xtian and I had on gmail chat earlier today:
Xtian: you guys [referring to ET#2 and BF of ET#2] have a pretty awesome relationship
Xtian: its very mellow
ET#2: we do?
Xtian: well to a guy yeah
ET#2: we're mellow?
ET#2: you meant to say that I am pretty awesome, ha
Xtian: you are very low maintenence yes
ET#2: hahahahaha
ET#2: i wonder if BF would agree with you
It's always interesting to hear other people's view of things.
Xtian: you guys [referring to ET#2 and BF of ET#2] have a pretty awesome relationship
Xtian: its very mellow
ET#2: we do?
Xtian: well to a guy yeah
ET#2: we're mellow?
ET#2: you meant to say that I am pretty awesome, ha
Xtian: you are very low maintenence yes
ET#2: hahahahaha
ET#2: i wonder if BF would agree with you
It's always interesting to hear other people's view of things.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Homies on the stoop
Despite what my parents think, I live a pretty quiet life. I go to the lab, do some work, surf the internet, go home, read, and watch a little tv. On occassion, I get a beer or dinner with a friend, but that is pretty much the summary of my life. Maybe this quiet life stems from becoming older, but I do like it.
My friend, D, called me on Saturday as I was watching yet another hour of US Open Tennis and pretending to work on the computer.
"Hey, you doing anything tonight?"
"Ummm.... of course not."
"Let's go to Tsunami and maybe you can pick up some beer to bring to the restaurant."
Sounded like a good plan. I went to Trader's Joe and picked up large bottles of Chimay and La Fin du Monde. D came by promptly at 7:30pm. We walked to the restaurant hand in hand. Jewish boy, shiksa asian girl: a typical Brookline couple. Oh except, that we both like boys.
Tsunami was packed. The waiting list was going to be a half hour. Really in the mood for some sushi, we decided to put our names down on the list. What were we going to do for 30 min? Light bulb moment. I walked into Dunkin' donuts bought two paper cups. D and I went to the Coolidge Corner public library branch. On the stoop, we sat there with our paper cups drinking Belgium beer. Classy.
"You know ET#1, why do I only do ghetto things like this when I am with you?"
"Because I am fabulous and have never gotten over college."
"Okay, but soon we really will be too old for this."
"No matter how old we get, I will still make you do stupid crap."
"Okay. As long as we can be fat, old, and stupid together, it is a deal."
My friend, D, called me on Saturday as I was watching yet another hour of US Open Tennis and pretending to work on the computer.
"Hey, you doing anything tonight?"
"Ummm.... of course not."
"Let's go to Tsunami and maybe you can pick up some beer to bring to the restaurant."
Sounded like a good plan. I went to Trader's Joe and picked up large bottles of Chimay and La Fin du Monde. D came by promptly at 7:30pm. We walked to the restaurant hand in hand. Jewish boy, shiksa asian girl: a typical Brookline couple. Oh except, that we both like boys.
Tsunami was packed. The waiting list was going to be a half hour. Really in the mood for some sushi, we decided to put our names down on the list. What were we going to do for 30 min? Light bulb moment. I walked into Dunkin' donuts bought two paper cups. D and I went to the Coolidge Corner public library branch. On the stoop, we sat there with our paper cups drinking Belgium beer. Classy.
"You know ET#1, why do I only do ghetto things like this when I am with you?"
"Because I am fabulous and have never gotten over college."
"Okay, but soon we really will be too old for this."
"No matter how old we get, I will still make you do stupid crap."
"Okay. As long as we can be fat, old, and stupid together, it is a deal."
Friday, September 07, 2007
Community service schommunity schervice
When I was in high school, I was on our Community Service Leader board. That meant that I had racked up so many community service hours, they let me run a few events. I remember giving a speech in the beginning of senior year to the whole school, telling them why they should participate. Well, actually, I split the talk another leader. His speech was solemn, reminding all the students they live in a life of priveledge and it is their responsibility to give back. He echoed our school motto, "Cui servire est regnare" (To serve is to rule). My talk, to Mrs. Beck's dismay, was on how I was incompetent. (Leave it to me, to be self absorbed in a community service talk.) My sppech laid out my awkward conversations at the old folks' home, being mistaken as a child instead of being the Big Sister, dropping the potatoes on the floor at the soup kitchen, and my inability to stuff envelopes.
I don't do any community service anymore. When I first moved to Boston, I used tape periodicals for the blind in a little recording studio in East Cambridge. But when the weather gets bad the trek out there is a pain in the ass and soon I realized I was a highly unreliable participant. I tried to join Boston Cares, but after wanting to smack the holier-than-thous and the hey-are-you-single people I gave up on that too. Sometimes, I try to read a book in the Jimmy Fund reading room, but let's be honest that is really more for me, because some of those books are pretty entertaining. (I got a chance to read Holes before the movie.) But lately, it has been all about me and my work.
Yesterday, I got a sad email from a friend in the Peace Corps. She is pretty amazing, having worked as a social coordinator here in Boston. She is tough as nails and truly caring. It seems the rainy season and human nature has gotten her questioning her role in her community. Was she truly effecting a positive change? I have no idea if that change is taking place there, but it did spark that guilt thing in me.
As I went to the 7-11 for my daily fix of salty snacks, I ran into R, a local transient. T, my friend and a homeless advocate, always tells me that I should stop giving money to the homeless and that it is better to direct them to a local shelter 1) because they are scamming you 2) because if they are in trouble the shelter can provide them in assortment of services that your spare change cannot. Okay so I was going to try this new tactic. I came back to the lab and called some local shelters to see if they had room for tonight. I couldn't find anything. I went back to the 7-11 and gave him the address of the Roxbury Multi-Services center. I told him to go there tomorrow morning. Then he asked me for money again. I told him I had no more. He turned away and then he threw away the yellow post-it note I handed to him.
Strangely, I do not feel sad. It is one of those things. The odds were against me. I felt like I was in high school failing miserably, but at least trying. Although I know I am freaking lazy and evil and will most likely never do anything like that again, I have a story about how my friend in Senegal inspired me to do something here. And of course now I will rule you all (muahahahahaha)....
(Sorry about the weird posting schedule. I promise I will return to normal next week.)
PS
I wrote this on Wednesday, but thought I should make an update. I have been growing out my hair (which includes using conditioning, trimming, etc) for a year and a half to donate it to charity. However, an article in the New York Times the other day makes me question if this worth it. Foiled again!
I don't do any community service anymore. When I first moved to Boston, I used tape periodicals for the blind in a little recording studio in East Cambridge. But when the weather gets bad the trek out there is a pain in the ass and soon I realized I was a highly unreliable participant. I tried to join Boston Cares, but after wanting to smack the holier-than-thous and the hey-are-you-single people I gave up on that too. Sometimes, I try to read a book in the Jimmy Fund reading room, but let's be honest that is really more for me, because some of those books are pretty entertaining. (I got a chance to read Holes before the movie.) But lately, it has been all about me and my work.
Yesterday, I got a sad email from a friend in the Peace Corps. She is pretty amazing, having worked as a social coordinator here in Boston. She is tough as nails and truly caring. It seems the rainy season and human nature has gotten her questioning her role in her community. Was she truly effecting a positive change? I have no idea if that change is taking place there, but it did spark that guilt thing in me.
As I went to the 7-11 for my daily fix of salty snacks, I ran into R, a local transient. T, my friend and a homeless advocate, always tells me that I should stop giving money to the homeless and that it is better to direct them to a local shelter 1) because they are scamming you 2) because if they are in trouble the shelter can provide them in assortment of services that your spare change cannot. Okay so I was going to try this new tactic. I came back to the lab and called some local shelters to see if they had room for tonight. I couldn't find anything. I went back to the 7-11 and gave him the address of the Roxbury Multi-Services center. I told him to go there tomorrow morning. Then he asked me for money again. I told him I had no more. He turned away and then he threw away the yellow post-it note I handed to him.
Strangely, I do not feel sad. It is one of those things. The odds were against me. I felt like I was in high school failing miserably, but at least trying. Although I know I am freaking lazy and evil and will most likely never do anything like that again, I have a story about how my friend in Senegal inspired me to do something here. And of course now I will rule you all (muahahahahaha)....
(Sorry about the weird posting schedule. I promise I will return to normal next week.)
PS
I wrote this on Wednesday, but thought I should make an update. I have been growing out my hair (which includes using conditioning, trimming, etc) for a year and a half to donate it to charity. However, an article in the New York Times the other day makes me question if this worth it. Foiled again!
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Suggestions?
I have somehow been put in charge of finding a suitable bar for a bachelorette party this Saturday -- I think it is because I am the only "local" and everyone else is coming in from Philly. This must be karma for always letting others pick the place to have our semi-regular joint birthday parties -- leaving that to KenTak3, Mamacita or Xtian. We (8 ladies and me) are having dinner in the East Village at Lucky Cheng's (not my suggestion). My thoughts were for something in the East Village or Lower East Side. Any suggestions??
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