Hope everyone out there is having a wonderful and happy Thanksgiving day! I’m spending it surrounded by my rather eccentric family . . . while reading Flannery O’Conner’s stories and realizing how much writing material is present in my very own family, haha. Now watching the Cowboys eat the Eagles for Thanksgiving dinner. Ouch!
If you’re braving Black Friday, best of luck. To the rest, hope everyone enjoys the holiday and eats turkey and pie until their brains are fried. 
Categories: Nothing
Well I was all ready to blog about my laundry and then THIS happened.
So I was making myself turkey and gravy and stuffing for dinner, one of those microwaveable things that cost like $1.99. I zapped it and then I was pulling off the plastic top when it suddenly snapped and sent BOILING gravy all over my right hand and wrist. Now, I had known it was hot, but I sure hadn’t realized it was THAT hot. I literally fell to my knees and started wiping my arm against the carpet because there wasn’t a rag near me, and then I managed to grab a shirt and use that. Some of my skin came off with it.
I had this moment of panic because it was hurting so badly that I couldn’t decide whether I needed to go to the hospital or not. Futhermore, I don’t know where the nearest hospital is, and I didn’t have the money for a cab so I would have had to take the subway or walk. And of course I didn’t have any sort of burn treatment in my apartment.
So I throw on a sweatshirt and shoes and literally sprint two blocks to the 24-hour Walgreens. I madly search the aisles, sobbing and hyperventilating because I was in too much pain to think. I grabbed the first burn treatment cream I could find. Everyone was staring at me and like edging away. Thanks for the compassion, guys.
Then, the man not ringing me up, but another of the employees, this middle-aged foreign man, looked me up and down and demanded, “What are you doing out in the cold dressed like that?” I was wearing sneakers, cheer shorts, and a sweatshirt in 22degree weather.
Um . . . can you SEE that I am crying and can’t breathe and am holding my bright red hand out to the side because it is clearly in pain? I’m not sure if he was trying to be funny or lighten the mood or what. As soon as I paid, I stepped to the side and poured the stuff on my hand and it helped a little, and then I went walking back to my apartment. Unfortunately, the medication only helped very little after the first five minutes, and I spent the next three hours soaking my right wrist, pinky, thumb, and palm in ice water. Took a Tylenol PM to go to sleep around 1am, but my hand was hurting so badly that I woke up an hour later and had to go back to soaking it and blowing the fan on it. Took ANOTHER Tylenol PM and fianlly managed to pass out, but I still had to sleep with my hand submerged in water. It stopped hurting sometime during the night, and two of the blisters disappeared.
Unfortunately, this one grew. And what you can’t really see in the picture is that even around the blister, there’s a raw red patch about the size of two quarters. Ugh. And it hurts like CRAZY if anything touches it. Of course this happens the day I’m going to have to travel. BLAH!
This morning at work (I volunteer with 826 Boston to help tutor and teach kids to enjoy creative writing), a class of sixth graders came to learn how to write odes. Many wonderful conversations ensued. Here are a couple.
Boy: Can I write about my hamster?
Me: Of course. Oh, look, though, you wrote that your hamster has evil eyes. That’s not really a good thing is it?
Boy: But she does. When I look in her eyes, she looks evil.
Girl: Man, I didn’t realize how lame brownies are until I tried to write a poem about them.
Boy: Ode to Water, without you I would die.
Girl: I really like ketchup.
Boy: Ew, I don’t.
Me: Yeah, I prefer barbecue sauce. I’ll put it on almost anything.
Boy: Yeah! Me too! Up top!
(For those of you who don’t know, that means ‘give me five’ and I proceeded to high five a scrawny little 11-yr-old boy with a VERY thick Boston accent.)
So I bought a crockpot. I had been thinking about it for a while, adn I finally priced them online and discovered they weren’t too expensive at all. So off I went to BedBath&Beyond, where I bought a crockpot for $35 and fuzzy sock slippers because I’m tired of my toes being cold. Unfortunately, my slippers were the last of their kind and had no price tag. So the girl ringing me up called a guy over to go look, and they were playing around. Well he couldn’t find a price, so he called another guy to go google it and see how much they are online, haha. It was this whole drama, but everything was playing around. The lady in line behind me was embarrassing her daughter. It was all great.
I came home and I was ready for bed at like 5:30, but I did some homework and then thought about going to bed . . . but I really wanted to play with my new toy. So I found a recipe online I wanted to try (well, two) and went to Trader Joe’s and bought all the stuff I needed. Then I set up my new little kitchen, and after some rearranging, this is the new set up:
Pretty, huh? So while that cooked for two hours, I went and washed my laundry my hand (which trust me will be getting it’s OWN post). Then, curious whether it would work . . .
TA DA!
BLUEBERRY COBBLER! Unfortunately, I forgot to buy vanilla ice cream or whipped cream, but it was still quite wonderful.
I have stuff to make brownie cobbler, too, but that’ll have to wait until after Thanksgiving since I go home Monday. YAY. And I bought chicken, which in hindsight was stupid because I need to do something with it within the next two days, preferrably Saturday morning I guess so I can eat it Saturday and Sunday. Two epic posts are forthcoming, so be prepared!
That it is currently 22degrees outside.
And 50000degrees inside.
I have a fan on. While it is 22degrees outside. I’m so glad I don’t pay for my heat.
There was just a knock at my door. It was the boy upstairs, who it turns out is the drummer. He is attractive. He asked me if I could hear any clicking, and when I said no and was confused, he explained that he was using his practice pad before when I yelled (it was 5am!!!) and that made me feel a bit embarrassed. But now he has put a towel underneath it and just wanted to make sure I still couldn’t hear it. He is being considerate. And actually, I can still hear it the faintest bit, but I’m so thrilled that he’s being considerate that it doesn’t even bother me.
I think I’m in love.
Categories: The Loft
I didn’t blog about it, and I’m trying to play catch-up, so here goes.
It was my friend Fidan’s first Halloween; she’s from Azerbaijan and though she’s spent two Halloweens in America before, apparently this was her first year to dress up and celebrate. She was dead, I was Lucky Bear (Carebear), Diana was a princess, and Lucy was a trampy werewolf. You can see our pictures in my webshots album (link on teh right) because I’m too lazy to repost here.
Beacon Hill is probably the coolest place to go trick-or-treating. It’s all narrow, cobbled streets that are IMPOSSIBLE to walk on without falling. The neighborhood goes all out, so there were hundreds of people crammed on these narrow streets with their kids. The moms all had glasses of wine and the dads all had beers. Beacon Hill is also one of the highest property values in the country, so everyone is super wealthy. Homeowners sat on their front stoops with bowls of candy, some dressed up, come not. Front doors were open and I, creeper that I am, would look in as I took candy, haha. Very nice homes. Also, several houses were giving out, like, full-sized candy bars. None of the little grab bag stuff; heavy duty candy. At one house, a woman I think thought we were mothers, and told us, “Take whatever you need to make it through the night.” Maybe she had just had too much wine?
Senator John Kerry and his wife Theresa Heinz-Kerry live in Beacon Hill, actually right around the corner from my friend Heather. She’s run into him on numerous occasions. Him and his wife always give out candy. When I went by, he had just gone inside, but Mrs. Kerry was standing in the doorway, overseeing her underlings that she had employed to hand out candy on her behalf. Diana kind of had a spazz-out moment and took a crooked picture. Fidan had no idea who it was until I explained to her, “You know Heinz Ketchup?” Then she spazzed out with Diana.
We didn’t have a super long time to shop because we all went and saw Legally Blonde the Musical which was actually a lot cuter than I had expected. I wound up with a massive headache though, so I went home, took a nap, and then went walking to enjoy being in Boston on Halloween. People in costumes have been all over the city for two weeks, and there’s something very liberating about riding the subway with a group of adults dressed like deceased hockey players, witches, and Cupid. Halloween night, just walking around, was silly, just to kind of be surrounded by that odd atmosphere of Halloween. People were dressed up and going from party to party. Everyone was excited. I love that.
Anyways, that was my Halloween. I got an okay stash of candy. Not a whole lot, and you better belive it was gone by the end of the weekend. It was fun, though.
I lied, here’s a picture.
And that’s me adn Fidan! I also had BRIGHT green tights on. A woman in CVS asked me if I was Peter Pan.
I’m out for a run. It’s like 2pm and I look awful because I’m out running. I stop to wait for the light to change so I can cross the street. A man on a bike is beside me, also waiting. He’s black, which is only relavent because I get hit on by black men FAR more than I get hit on my white men.
He says something to me, which I can’t hear because of my iPod, so I pause it and ask him, “What?
“I said, a girl like you can stop traffic. A girl so beautful like you.”
“Oh . . . thanks. Maybe I should try it so we’ll finally get to cross the street.”
Then the light changed.
The end.
that I have been awful about not blogging. I realize that there are many things that I NEED to blog about because they are interesting (such as meeting Theresa Heinz and John Kerry on Halloween while trick or treating in Beacon Hill) or important (I sent a play of mine off to a marathon competition) or applicable to my travel blog (like my trip to Salem, MA last weekend). I’ve just been super duper busy.
So . . . that’s all I’m going to say right now, haha.
Categories: Nothing
I voted last week by early ballot.
But that’s now what I want to talk about. What I want to talk about is the fact that when I finally was sleepy enough to go to bed at 5:30AM today, someone above me began drumming. The noises had started around 5am, and I thought surely it was the heat or the pipes or something because surely no one is so self-centered as to DRUM AT 5:30 IN THE MORNING. But alas, the beating was strangely rhythmic and when the rhythm changed to a new one, I knew that I had made an enemy in my building. I honestly do not understand the mentality of some of the people in this building. It’s no secret that we can all hear everything that each other does.
I pounded on my ceiling for fifteen minutes; I don’t think it was the guy above me, though; I think it was the guy above my neighbor. The noises stopped after those fifteen minutes, just as I was getting out of bed to walk up the stairs and yell angrily, “WHOEVER IS DRUMMING AT 5:30 IN THE MORNING STOP IT NOOOOOOOOOW!”
Don’t think I wouldn’t do it. Because I most definitely would.
Then, miraculously I woke up at 10am, which is miraculous because my alarm went off at 8 and I turned it off and went back to sleep. I feel, really, like I have this alter ego that I’ve developed since going to college whose sole mission in life is to get me to sleep through as many things as possible. I rarely sleep through an alarm. I just turn it off and go back to bed. It’s creepy.
But yeah. Go vote IF you know what you’re voting for.
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