Hot stuff!

March 25, 2010 :: 9:01 PM


SPARKLEFEST 2010! :: da brook :: march 20 2010

d00d, look at that AMAZING Matt Gilroy jersey on the birthday girl.

You may go on with your lives now…

I’ll be back when I stop working around the clock and can actually breathe.


March 21, 2010 :: 5:31 PM


matty gilroy :: rangers at bruins, boston, ma :: january 9 2010


Yesterday, I turned *cough* 35 *cough*. I have now been alive one year longer than my mother was in my life. Pardon my french, but that is some fucked up shit. It was not as hard to accept as I thought it would be, though. Then again, I was pretty good with last year.

I guess this is growing up.

Last night, I had some friends up so that we could make fun of sparkly vampires, drool over werewolves, and generally have some fun. There were birthday spanks (dude, I BRUISED!), and penises drawn on the whiteboard. There were plenty of hijinks, snarfing, and midget porn… basically, just another night with this crew.  My guests stayed overnight and this morning, we had “overnight” waffles and MEAT. Is it inappropriate for this forum if I say my husband provided the meat? *snicker*

Because my parents were both alcoholics, I can be rather touchy about the subject of alcohol. In fact, our house is dry. Bone dry. Last night, I lifted the ban and let my friends bring wine. (I KNOW!) My favorite moment was when we were putting the groceries away yesterday morning, and the Wonder Hubby turned to me and asked me if we should leave room for beer.


To further make me wonder what the hell happened to me… I begged and pleaded and dropped several THOUSAND hints about getting a Gilroy jersey for my birthday. Normally, I’m a little bit skittish about getting too hooked on a particular player. The year I graduated high school,  I got an Andy Moog Bruins jersey for my birthday. Andy was traded to Dallas right around graduation day. I only wore it to one Bruins game - his first game back in Boston after the trade. Since then, I’ve kind of gotten over being a fan of a particular NHL player since they get traded so frequently. Then, Matty Gilroy happened. Four amazing years at BU, Hobey Baker, the National Championship… he stole my heart. Big. Time. There’ve been a lot of players in my life - those I’ve known personally, those I’ve cheered for at BU, those guys in the spoked B - but none I’ve loved like I loved Andy Moog. Until Matty. With Matty’s move to the Rangers, I found myself caring less and less for the Bruins. A team I have loved my ENTIRE life. Just like that.

I didn’t think this was possible, but I love that Gilroy jersey even more than I loved my Moog jersey.

Some other stuff has happened, too, that recently made me wonder why I’ve made certain things priorities. Apparently, there were some drunken texts and a half-assed apology during that conversation. I love the fact that person A stood up for me, and I love the fact that person B half-assed apologized, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m questioning why I’ve done so much for someone only to get continually crapped on. Well, I’m still keeping him a priority, but   things are going to be a little different from here on out. If they don’t like it… well…

I think a lot of this is not only a natural progression, but also directly related to the new job.

I’ve had a hard time, both here in Ohio, finding jobs that fit me particularly well. Matter of fact, I’ve had a new job just about every year since I’ve moved back to New England. I’ve been hoping that the next job is the last one, and I think we all know how my last “perfect” job went. All I’m going to say about that is when I threatened to leave during a conversation with the owner of the company, he didn’t take me seriously. I’m not sure how you can totally misread, “If this is the way it’s going to be, then I can’t work here anymore.” But, he did. Oh well. His loss.

In a lot of different ways, I’m thinking this new job may actually be the one the sticks. The main group I work with have personalities that mesh well with mine. The main company I work for is fascinating - both in terms of the industry, and in terms of what happened in the bookkeeper’s position. There have been no less than six different sets of hands in the books in two years. Four of those sets of hands had been trying to detangle the work of two sets. I have no proof - only rumors - and what I’ve seen in the books is… kind of interesting. I’ll let you draw your own conclusions as to what happened.

Eventually, I’ll be doing the books for three other companies all under the same corporate umbrella. I’m a little afraid of taking them on - the main company is a freaking mess (see above) and I’ve been working some sick hours. There’s more than enough work to keep me busy, to keep me entertained, to keep me happy.  I guess that’s what matters. Every day is a challenge, some days more challenging than others, but it’s not a straight bookkeeping job.

I think that finding this job is the last piece of the puzzle… the final step in redefining who I am.

Or at least who I am today.

It really is the little things (*snicker*)

March 07, 2010 :: 4:21 PM


boomer and matty :: agganis arena, boston, ma :: march 7 2008

I’m in a bit of a reflective place this weekend. Some really bad crap went down last week. None of it affected me directly, but it affected some of my friends in major ways. It’s not my place to say what happened, because I don’t really know, and it’s not my story to tell, but it was bad. Really bad. It caused a few of them to think about their lives, and like a snowball, it got me thinking about mine.

I had a conversation a few months ago with the brother of one of my best friends. I thought about him yesterday when I pulled on my new favorite shirt. On the front of it it says “the journey is the destination”. I used to focus on the end goal - where I wanted to be in five, ten, twenty years. I still do, but it’s been offset with the urge to live every day like it’s my last. My father’s final lesson, taught on the day he died: Life is too fucking short. Live it while you can. (And yes, my father would have dropped the f-bomb.) So, I’m learning how to enjoy the journey even though it’s taken me places I never would have expected. It’s not all bad… there are a lot of perks to just letting go and following your bliss.

Like this text message I received at 4AM: K thanks again 4 coming. Love u guys.

Sometimes, I find it odd that the things that bring me the most joy are the simple, stupid things…

I guess this is growing up

March 03, 2010 :: 8:28 PM


derek :: toad’s place, new haven, ct :: january 15, 2010

There is a person in my circle of friends whom I’m not particularly close to, but I find fascinating.

I’m not the only one - during an afternoon out a few weeks ago, someone noticed the same things I did. They were much more charitable in their assessment of this person than I have been in the past. To be honest, I’ve gotten in trouble several times for my views of this person. I don’t understand why there has to be this rift between us, but it’s been there since day one and I used to let it bother me. A lot.

After what I saw a while back, I don’t feel the snark rising the way it used to when they walked into the room. Granted, they’re still fun to make fun of, but lately most of it’s tempered with an overwhelming sense of pity. Their interactions with other people border on needy, fake, forced… even when they’re with their friends and family they don’t look natural. They just look spectacularly fake. It’s like they’re trying to be real, to be normal, but they only come across looking even more fake. It’s a sad, sad, vicious cycle.

I’m completely awkward in social situations. I know this. Even in groups of friends, I can feel like the odd man out. To my knowledge, though, I never been anyone but myself. I don’t try to force myself to fit in. I’ve worked too hard to be comfortable as myself, to accept all my quirks, the good, the bad, and the ugly.

I blew myself away with the ability to feel pity for this person.

I never, ever, ever, in a zillion years thought I’d ever feel that way.

When the heck did I become a growed up?