i just lost half a post

...in which I asked for your advice and also made a really good joke. But now you will never read it. Son of a fuckin' bitch. It's too long to recreate.

Blogger, you owe me one.

xoxo

obviously I use this product to write this blog

Obviously, yo.

xoxo

do me a favor and don't put me in a box

I know you are all expecting me to be predictable and write an impassioned screed about how much I hate winter and snow and how it took 35 minutes to get home yesterday instead of 10 and how I couldn't go to the gym and now my schedule is all messed up and how if it gets crappy(er) today and my hairdresser cancels on me leaving me with roots for Christmas I will be homicidal and how months ago when I signed up for a work training on December 22 in fucking almost-Roxbury it seemed like a good idea at the time but now not so much. I know that is what you are expecting from me. But, hey, we have to mix it up a little.

So instead I am going to tell you that this morning, on the phone with my son, I realized there is another word I consistently butcher, at least in this one context. "D! Can you do me a favah?" If I were to use it in another sentence such as "I would be happy to do it as a favor to you" I would pronounce it correctly. This is odd. Maybe one only drops the R at the end of a sentence. Insert winky face here.

I like how I write this shit as if anyone is actually reading it. Too funny.

xoxo

small pleasures

I think yesterday was my blogoversary, and did any of you all send flowers? NO. What a bunch of friggin' slackers. Between that and the lack of commenting, one would think no one's enjoying my little missives about Ubaldo, the YMCA, and various TV shows you've probably never seen. God. I will have to come up with some new topics. (Wait till I start telling you about what the Buddhists think about sex. I bet you'll pay attention to that.)

But until then, I'm just going to tell you some things that make me happy for no reason.

Looking on the UPS website and seeing that my package is OUT FOR DELIVERY? That makes me happy.

Getting "my" treadmill at the gym, even though it's 4:30 pm on a weekday? That makes me happy.

Having Evil Kitty sleep with me all night, even though it isn't winter and even though she loves my son far, far more than she loves me? That makes me happy.

Leaving my garage door open for eight hours while I go to work (don't fucking ask, please) and coming home to find no one's stolen the nice snowblower or the crappy lawnmower? That makes me happy.

See, am I not all rainbows and kitten orgasms this morning even though I got NO blogoversary flowers? What's up with that? Must be leftover adorable redheaded twin baby hangover.

xoxo

you missed it

I spent all morning writing this long-ass blog post on and off in between patients and somehow when I went to publish it, I was logged out of blogger and 3/4ths of it hadn't been saved. So I fucking deleted it all in a fit of pique. You will never know what brilliant things I had to say and that is your sad loss, my friends, your tragic tragic loss.

Boo hoo.

xoxo

blog policy change

I am now officially fed up with the weird anonymous comment spam I keep having to delete from here, so I have changed my setting to "only registered users can comment." That means you can only comment through Blogger or Open ID. Since I think all y'all who comment normally do that anyway, we should be okay. Just letting you know.

do you know what today is?

Today, kids, is my blogiversary. I'm thinking I should have been better prepared and there should have been party games and door prizes and guest speakers(bloggers) and a retrospective of everyone's favorite posts and maybe a new FAQ. Sadly, you're getting none of that. Lemme just say instead, it's been an honor to spew the contents of my brain on you for two years.

Salud!

xoxo

oh, so true

important blog announcement

...for your convenience.

There are now 30 shopping days until my birthday. You all know where your local mall is, right? Also? For the right amount of bribery, I could probably be induced to stop posting about baseball, Nirvana songs, my own boobs, or, really, any other topic that's worn out its welcome.

You are very welcome! Think nothing of it! De nada!

xoxo

i have no idea why

...but blogger will not let me fix the formatting of the previous entry, no matter how many times I've tried to edit it.

I just want you all to know that I do in fact know how to use paragraphs.

Sigh.

See, I'll give you lots and lots of them now.

xoxo

fail!

So, last night I started writing a really long post riffing on a conversation some of my co-workers were having yesterday. I'd gotten five or six paragraphs in when I realized I didn't have a point, wasn't making a point, and in fact probably couldn't have found a point if I was sitting in a pile of sharp objects. So I deleted the whole thing. Perhaps at some future time I'll try again.

But don't you hate that? You *know* you have a thesis in there somewhere. You know you have all these thoughts that are just this close to coming together and making coherent sense. In fact, you're absolutely sure you have something brilliant and insightful to say. But it is elusive. I bet fucking Plato never had this problem. (And, yes, this is why they'll never make my name into an adjective, I'm well aware.)

In lieu of that, I would love to have posted some more pictures of amazingly well-preserved old people or discussed underwear or something, but it's been a busy morning. I had to cure the sick children!!! (If you go back to my very first entry in this blog, I predicted it would devolve into a morass of private jokes. I think we're there. In less than a year. Perhaps I'm not *totally* made of fail.)

Anyway, I promise: more content that doesn't make your IQ drop five to seven points just from reading it really, really soon.

xoxo

thought it was time

The Adventure FAQ, or everything you need to know for this blog to make sense. Maybe.

1.) Who are Mr Barma, Mr Indemnity, and Uncle?

They are Andrea's friends who, in addition to having many other fine qualities, hold a special place in her heart because they blog-comment. Unlike all her other slacker friends/readers.

2.) So, do you like blog comments, Andrea?

Andrea likes blog commentary *so much* that, were it feasible, she would pay a nickel per comment to the writer. And a dime to the Portuguese spammers, because they're double the entertainment value.

3.) Who is D?

D is Andrea's son. He has schizoaffective disorder. Probably. That's the most current diagnosis. There've been a few.

4.) Who is L?

L is Andrea's best friend, whom she has known since 9th grade.

4a.) Who is S?

S is L's boyfriend. He may or may not have had Lyme disease recently.

5.) So, who is the other S?

The other S is Andrea's and M2's friend and partner in bodywork adventures and misadventures.

6.) Who are M1 and M2?

They are two of Andrea's friends who share the same name. M2 went to massage school with Andrea and lives in Cambridge. M1 worked with Andrea for many years and lives in New Hampshire.

7.) What/where is Shangri-Lowell?

Shangri-Lowell is, alternately, either Mr Barma's condo or the environs thereof. In either case, Shangri-Lowell is The Happiest Place on Earth. (Those Disney bastards are liars.)

8.) Why do you swear so much anyway, Andrea?

Well, see, you can take the girl out of the 'hood, but you can't take the 'hood out of the girl. Plus, let's be serious, it's a conscious literary device. Plus, Andrea's (charmingly) cranky. Especially at certain times. She's also Easily Irritated.

9.) Who is The Lawyer?

The Lawyer is a gentleman whom Andrea dated very briefly while she was in massage school a couple years ago, the thought of whom nevertheless induces such loathing that she is unable to refer to him without adding "::spit::".

10.) What do we know about Andrea's ex-husband?

He's D's father and Andrea's high school sweetheart, and he's active in local politics. He likes to see his picture in the paper.

11.) What do we know about Andrea's other long-term ex?

Nothing. You know nothing. He is occasionally referred to as her "ex-whatever-he-was" but he does not figure in the Adventures.

12.) "Julie, Julie, Julie"? WTF?

That would be one Mr Julio Lugo, inept and overpaid Boston Red Sox ss, who can't hit and certainly can't field. We here at the Adventures wish he would be traded. Until that happy day, we satisfy ourselves with calling him Julie. We suggest you do the same.

13.) What is Kelly's, and why should I go there?

That would be the famous Kelly's Roast Beef. Now there are several branches in places like Danvers and Medford/Everett that have such amenities as roofs and tables, but for the true Kelly's experience, Andrea recommends the original at Revere Beach where you eat in your car or across the street on the sea wall. The reason you should go there is to eat onion rings. Part of Andrea's funeral is going to involve this ritual.

14.) So, what else should I do in Revere when I'm done with my onion rings?

Well, there are a couple of very well-known strip clubs.

15.) What celebrity would Andrea most like to wake up next to, naked in bed?

That would be Anthony Kiedis.

16.) Who are Andrea's future step-grandchildren?

Since Andrea most likely will never have biological grandchildren (see question 3) but loves babies and little kids so, so much, she has cooked up a scheme to, some time in the next 15 years, marry some poor sucker not for his money, but for the procreative potential of his grown children.

17.) What is this "prison bus" of which you speak?

The prison bus is one of the two bus routes that run between Andrea's house and her place of employment. It is ridden, at certain times of the day, by a disproportionate number of parolees and court attendees, and is famous for overheard conversations about a.) what local jails have the best amenities b.) how long it takes to get all the blood cleaned from your cell walls if you jump on someone from the top bunk and c.) how selling your prescription drugs is the best way to afford a way better apartment, yo. There has also been some mysterious discussion of swabbing.

18.) And, most importantly! Who the hell is Possibly Irish Danny?

Possibly Irish Danny is an occasional prison bus patron and possessor of the world's ugliest shamrock/skull neck tattoo who first came to all of our attention having a cell phone conversation in which he discussed running into (the fabulously nicknamed) "Spanish Danny". This led, over time, to Andrea and her blog commenters giving him his alias and developing a whole fictional and/or theoretical life for him, based solely on the clues revealed in his many overheard cell phone discussions. If there is a mascot to the Adventures, Possibly Irish Danny would be he.

(Did I miss any?)

xoxo