Ode to My Girlfriends

I had the girls over on Thursday - Reg and Di. Knowing each other for almost thirty years made for some great trivia such as "who went to the Pink Floyd concert with us in '93?" (ps we are still debating because we were so screwed up on -deleted because we all have great jobs now-)...... and "where were YOU when Di had her first period?" It does strike me as strange that I met both of these women well before I was three years old and we are still friends to this day, and we will always be the first to admit that we have had our ups and downs (and sideways even), but if today is my last I will always thank god for the good friends that I have. Reg, Di, Lady, Amy. I could never ask for better sisters than you. Thanks.

Finally!!!!

After what seems like ages and ages and ages, I have FINALLY gotten a new computer and better yet - my dear brother hooked it up for me today!!! So as I type this I am in the comfort of my very own beautiful home office drinking a glass of red wine.

Easter is tomorrow and I've opted out of doing absolutely anything. I know, it is terrible. Quite honestly I don't feel like visiting family, my niece Kay will be with her mom and family and for some reason the holidays are seeming less and less significant to me without the presence of children. Clock ticking, Scotch? Possibly. More likely I am just too lazy to be presentable and communicative on a Sunday. Isn't that what Monday through Friday is for? Christ, I pat myself on the back if I even muster up the energy to conceive of taking a shower. Ah the life of a singleton, so glamorous.

Last week I made my St. Patrick's Days resolutions - get in shape, get a boyfriend (or at least try to get laid), be more domestic, yada yada yada. It has become a tradition for me to make resolutions on March 17, the origin of this is unknown to me but I am guessing it started on the floor of a bathroom swearing to turn my life around. Although my bathroom floor days are over (knock on tile) there is no time like the present to set some new ground rules for myself since my eating, drinking and all around lifestyle has gotten out of control over the past six months. I truly cannot by any means blame the new gig, but I do have to say that where I used to have to twist some arms to get some company for an after work drink at my old job in Cambridge, I pretty much work with 40 replicas of myself now. Scary. Frightening. Fun. Funny. Scary.

All week I did a good job at these resolutions, I didn't even have a drink on St. Patrick's Day. I brought a salad to work every day, cooked every night and even cut down on my caffeine intake. When Thursday rolled around I felt great, but then a bad day at work followed, and then my friends kept calling me from the Junction and I just couldn't resist.

Ah, this post is boring the shit out of me..... nothing to report about the Junction, had beer, had spinach dip (good, which is rare I am finding). Di came over later that night and I just had to stay up until midnight despite the fact I had all day meetings starting at 7AM on Friday. I was so tired when I got home Friday night that I cancelled my reservations at Rialto

So that's about it folks, I am sure I will write more tonight, just have to think of a good story that took place during my absence, obviously this week didn't produce any!!

Love yas!

Day One

I'm back, at least I think I am. It is pretty weird typing out my thoughts after being on hiatus for so long.

I am alive, but I am not going to bore you with the details of where I've been or why I haven't been writing because honestly, not much has changed. The biggest variance is in the backdrop of my life as well as the cast of characters. I go out more often, which isn't always a great thing, and I have become more adventurous of where I go.

I'm still single but announced after a depressing realization over Christmas that 2008 is the year I am getting married. This confused many into thinking I had gotten engaged over the holiday, in fact I think the girls at work are planning a shower for me soon. I am contemplating a registry. Do you think Crate and Barrell carries shame?

But I am back, and I promise to update and I'm sorry I ever left. I won't back-track beyond today, I am starting over.

Hello?

How is everyone? Just seeing if I still exist...

To catch you up to speed - it's Friday, it's snowing, I am looking at the Pru from my office window right now (actually that is a lie, I just turned to look out the window and it's either too snowy or the Prudential Center has fallen off the face of the earth).

I am slightly hungover, I just convinced the office to order Chinese food.

So as you can see, not much has changed on the Scotch front.

The Difference Between Southie and Dorchester...

According to this guy, anyhow....

My friend Di and I went out for a late lunch (i.e. early drinks) in the South Boston area last Saturday afternoon. We hit up one place to watch the beginning of the sox game and then headed to a fairly well-known dive bar to watch the end of it. The place was pretty empty. After the first round we decided to go out and have a smoke. There was a guy out there also indulging and he struck up a conversation with us.

"So, whereya's from?" he questioned in an Irish accent.

We told him and returned the question. He told us what county he was from (can't remember) but then said he was now living in Dorchester. Di said she once lived in Dorchester for a time.

He then started to tell us about how he lived in the "good part" of Dot and how it is easy to turn a corner and end up on the "wrong side of the tracks." He then went on, unprovoked, to tell us this...

"One evening I had too much to drink at Murphy's Law here in Southie," he said. "I mean, I was drunk, ya know? I left the bar and took a seat on the sidewalk, the next thing I know I woke up and it was, oh, 'bout five o'clock in the morn."

And at that Di interjected an "oops..." ....he went on...

"I was wearing a gold chain on my neck, a snazzy watch, and had two hundred dollars in my pocket. But do you know what? Can you guess what?? Not a soul bothered with me. Not a soul."

It was at that point I got confused about where this story was heading.

"In Dorchester", he continued, "I would have been robbed blind. But not in this town. In this town they wouldn't rob a bloke laying on the sidewalk." He then stubbed out his butt and headed back into the bar.

I don't really know the moral of this story, my biggest concern was that Di and I looked like the type of gals that a man would meet and immediately feel free to tell he once slept on a sidewalk.

A Few Catch-ups

Things have been so busy lately, mostly due to the new job that I haven't had time to reflect. Also, my home computer shit the bed so I am typing this from Jude's house right now (and she is currently talking to me about banking woes and her dog's diabetes).

So, in no particular order, here are a few gems to re-introduce you to the Scotch you once knew.

Landmines

My job is in the Financial District (wait, Jude is now talking to me about my niece.....), before I worked in Harvard Square I worked in the financial for 4 years - I was in my early twenties. If I had to guess I would say that at least 55% of the men I have been involved with came from that job. As crazy as I am now I was much more brazen and fun-loving in my early twenties. What kills me now is that everytime I am running around the South Station area looking for the kinkos or having a meltdown on the wooden bridge that connects Congress and Summer Street I always run into one of these guys. I call them landmines. I always look out to try and avoid them but when I least expect it, there is David or Josh heading my way wanting to have the ol' howyadoin chat. I want to scream "I AM NO LONGER THAT GIRL!!" I am not the asshole who you slept with and then stood up for an Elton John concert! I am not the girl who fell down a flight of stairs at Three Cheers pub! I am not the girl in the elevator with you holding her bra when the door opened and it was CEO!! I am Scotch, I am 31, I often drink too much and get loud and funny but that aside that is where the similarities end.

Kilts

The other night after way too many beers two of my friends and I decided to hit the shittiest last call bar in town - The Boyne. We weren't there for five minutes when two gentlemen walked in wearing kilts. My girlfriend turns to me and says "I dare you to..." she didn't even get it out before I was up there requesting a peek. Turns out the rumors are true. We danced to AC/DC and then went home.

I must sign off, Jude is now talking to me about tree pruning.

Love yas!

What Once Was Lost...

Saturday afternoon I got a call from Jude on my cell. She was up at the Rockingham Plaza in Salem, New Hampshire. She lost her keys. She was stranded.

Merging onto I-90 in my car that has brakes so bad it shouldn't be driven I was nearly side swiped and then nearly side swiped a car trying to avoid the first car.

But I made it up there, gave her the keys, and then headed back to Boston. Got lost, ended up on Mass Ave in Roxbury, as I always do when I get lost, but found a sneakly little quick turn back onto I-90 West from Boyleston Street.

When I got home there he was. This thing. This guy.

He had been gone for over 25 days. I dealt with the fact that he was dead over two weeks ago. But there he was. Tattered, injured. Hungry but unable to eat. Fucking really thirsty.

I'm not pointing fingers. But the vet says someone hurt him.

But hes home, my brother fixed my brakes, Sears called my mother and told her they found her keys.

Lessons of the Week

No. 1

If you are like me and are prone to getting ink all over yourself, best not to use a yellow highlighter. If it gets all over your hands and face it will look like mustard - if you are lucky, I am fairly sure half the folks at my office think I am suffering from some deficiency. Although they wouldn't be all wrong because I am obviously lacking somewhere.

No. 2

What is worse than taking the bus, worse than being in your car and getting caught behind a bus - being on an "Express" bus and getting caught behind another, local, bus.

No. 3

The Boston Tea Party museum burnt down three years ago. An Asian tourist came up and asked me where it was, showing me a map. I looked at the map, then over to the Congress Street bridge construction, back to the map, scratched my head.....looked at the Asian girl...looked at the map...the construction...the map....finally some old lady came up and told us it burnt down three years ago. Nosy know-it-all old lady. I woulda figured it out eventually.

No. 4

I was a lunatic for ever taking the bus when I could of been driving all this time. 15 minutes tops - even in traffic. 15 goddamn minutes. Side note - if you tell the guy in charge of parking passes that you are embarrassed of your car he will immediately go check it out and then come back and announce (in front of everyone) that it isn't so bad, it just needs to be cleaned. Another note - at home I park under a tree and even if I do take it to the car wash it is dirty the next day....just saying.....

Anyhow, happy Friday!!!!!!!!!!!!