Fears that Disable Me No. 2 (No. 1 is Pigeons)

Those who know me are well aware of my street crossing phobia (and yes I am constantly ridiculed for it). I more than likely picked this up as a small child. Since my best friend (to this day!) Regina lived two houses down from me my mother would often let me walk over to her backyard by myself but never without the warning of horrors that could happen if I went near the street let alone attempt to cross it.

The phobia doesn’t prohibit me from getting from Point A to Point B - it just takes me a bit longer to get there considering I need to seek out the safest route humanly possible to cross. Also, I can often be found on a sidewalk pretending to look for something in my bag when in reality I am just trying to look normal while I stress about whether or not to cross at that particular point. Oh, and I’m also a big fan of adopting a “big brother or sister” (i.e. a complete stranger who just happens to be at the same crosswalk as me) to tag along with while crossing (and I’ve come pretty damn close to grabbing my “guide’s” hand on more than one occasion).

From that we can conclude two things – one, I am a total freak who’s sanity is hanging on by a thread (but you already knew that now didn’t you) and two, I’m pretty frigin safe about crossing the street.

That said, you think I’d be delighted by the Boston Police’s “Operation Crosswalk”. Not so, and here’s why:

On FOX 25 this morning they were interviewing a cop who was explaining how this operation was going to work, then he went on to say that not stopping for pedestrians in a crosswalk, even if there is a green light, is against the law.

This stresses me out because if people are wanting to cross, even if there is a green light for traffic and the signal is flashing “don’t walk”, does this mean that vehicles are going to stop and let pedestrians go?

What worries me is that one car in a four lane street is going to stop, the person is going to start to cross, and the people to the right of the car who stopped are not going to realize what is going on (or more likely the car behind the stopped car will get impatient and go around) and BLAMO! jogger on windshield.

Oh well…I guess personally I don’t have to worry about this because of my disabling fear of being run over by a car.

Ah the shit I worry about…..Happy Thursday and I hope you are all luckier than me and have tomorrow off!

Frightening Local Boston Commercial

There was a blogger highlighted on The Universal Hub today that commented on possible permits being required to advertise in Boston.

Much more intelligent blogging than the crap you will find within these four walls, but he did mention Ernie Boch Jr. and of course,

It made me think of this gem.



I am a huge fan of the Phantom, but it made me feel dirty, and not in a good way. I would have loved to been a fly on the wall when this concept was thought up.

PS: If you are not Bostonian - you have no idea what I am talking about, and you probably don't find the commercial as unsettling as I do because you don't have an unhealthy obsession with all things Andleman.

In fact, you may not even know what a Boch or an Andleman is and therefore we can never, ever be friends. But don't be sad, we can still have anonymous sex.

Did someone say hump-day? Boo ya.

Nutterbutter Junkie

I have a confession to make – I am a full blown peanut butter addict.

Peanut butter is one of those foods I trick myself into believing is healthy for me (and for those who are not binge monsters it is) but then I abuse it to the point where I can no longer look myself in the mirror.

I hit rock bottom a few weeks ago after an extended peanut butter and whole wheat pita binge while watching “The Real Housewives of Orange County.” It may have been the anxiety of watching that show – the people on this show are so foolish I sometimes feel embarrassed for them, but I can’t turn away. I packed up all my peanut butter, 2 full and 1 half eaten jars of it, and brought it to my mother’s house explaining that I could not longer be trusted around its nutty goodness.

Last week I was visiting my mother and noticed she had the peanut butter on full display on the counter. I figured this was a ploy to shame me as she did when I was 16 and her and my dad found a joint in my coat pocket. They put it on a paper plate on the kitchen table for all who saw it to inquire about so I would have to tell them my big, dark, pot smoking secret. Most of these visitors were friends of mine and my brother so it did not have the effect they intended it to have, although my dad did threaten to invite the pastor over for tea.

Where was I? Oh, peanut butter. So I ask my mother what gives with my Peter Pan and she says:

“Oh, I forgot to tell you....wow, um, how have you been feeling?”

I went to check the bar codes on the Peter Pan and was quite shocked that the first three digits were 2111.

What are the frigin chances?

I tried to think back to that fateful night when I pretended to give up peanut butter forever - but I didn’t remember feeling like shit, or shall I say worse than normal - and if I did I guess I would have probably guessed it was god punishing me for worrying about eating too much peanut butter when there are starving people in the world. I should be lucky to be given the opportunity to contract salmonella poisoning, that's more than some folks get.

Is it Friday yet?

My Retarded Brother Tom

I don't think I can say anything that has not already been said about yesterday's scarily comedic events in Boston.

What I can comment on is how uneasy I get seeing Menino on national stations.

The way I see it, Tom is like a retarded younger brother - it's okay for ME to make fun of him, but if an outsider makes a crack I'm going to have to ask them to step outside.


Almost Friday, Folks!

If Allston’s the Worst, You Can Keep The Best

A new book entitled "The Absolutely Worst Places to Live in America" has named Allston, MA as one of the grossest and dirtiest places to live in the United States.

Disclaimer - haven't read this book yet and do not plan on purchasing it - if anything I'll take the 66 bus out of Harvard directly into the deepest bowels of America to steal a copy from the Urban Renewals bookstore on Brighton Avenue.

According to The Boston Globe, the author lived in Allston as a student in the 90's and from the quotes I read, also from The Boston Globe, he has a major chip on his shoulder...

Below in italics are some quotes taken from The Boston Globe of the author's descripton of Allston:

[Allston is] a community of "faux Irish pubs...."

What makes an Irish pub authentic anyhow? I mean, unless it's located in Gallway, aren't all American Irish pubs faux in one way or another? Most of the Irish pubs in Allston are owned, or founded at least, by true red-blooded Irishmen.

"....garbage, vomiting in the shrubbery, drunken brawling, late night/early morning car alarms"

That may be an accurate, yet arguable, description of some parts of Allston. I myself wouldn't want to move to the Commonwealth Avenue section of Allston because there is too much hustle and bustle for my taste. However, I am still left scratching my head wondering, even if the author's description is right on the money, how that could qualify Allston as being one of the worst cities to live in in the United States. And not only that, Allston is ranked No. 14!! It's in the top 25!!! I can name at least a dozen shitty areas in Massachusetts alone!

As a life long Brighton resident, I have griped for years about absentee landlords renting over-priced/over-crowded apartments to students. I am fortunate enough to only have one of these houses in close proximity to my house. The place looks as though it is about to fall down, there is always trash in the front yard and loud parties that go well into the wee hours of the morning - take that scenario and multiply it by 10,000 and you've got Allston. I don't blame the students - kids will be kids. I guess my point is - the author lived in Allston as a student, Allston is pretty much dominated by a student population who contribute greatly to the garbage and late night drunken behavior he complains about. It is what it is.

Allston has never dragged residents in under false pretenses of being the best cities to live in America, but it is certainly not one of the worst.

And then he gets really mean and strikes out in a seemingly passive agressive way......

"Allston is a Neverland for the thrift shop set," he writes. ". . . you have this whole aging (thirtyish) segment of the population pathetically suffering from the Peter Pan-like delusion that they'll never grow old or irrelevant, still hanging out at the college bars and sitting in each other's living rooms dissecting pop culture like it's 1992."

Ouch..... That kind of stung a bit since I myself am a delusional 30 year old - even if I avoid the college bar scene like a VD. All I can say is that this guy must of had some really bad experiences in Allston, but it serves him right if he's going from living room to living room of thirty-something college bar dwellers. Nothing good can come out of that.

In any case, I’m already over this - the guy has gotten enough attention and will most likely make a ton of money from the free press alone.

The Circle of Meth

Years ago I once heard someone refer to Brighton as "a melting pot" - I laughed because they said pot and I was pretty stoned at the time. Aside from that, they did have a point, Brighton is a pretty diverse community although I'm not sure how well we "melt" together. However, despite our different ethnic backgrounds, religious and political beliefs and sexual orientation - there is one thing that we all have in common that no language barrier can deter - and that is our undivided passion for gossip.

That said, it warmed my heart last night when I heard that a drug-making laboratory was uncovered on Surrey Street. Just in time for the holiday season!! I have not seen this many people out and about on the streets since the old barn behind my house burnt to the ground. There was excitement in the air as helicopters flew overhead and news crews flooded the neighborhood. Familiar faces on the 10 o'clock news making statements of shock and disbelief added to the fun.

Reports this morning indicate that the lab was producing ecstasy, cocaine, and crystal meth.

"Meth" as those in the know call it (or those who watch A&E like me call it) scares the shit out of me because I read that the average user is between the ages of 35 and 45.

When I turned 30, I patted myself on the back for getting through my teens and twenties without a serious drug problem (go ahead and take a crack about booze being a drug). I figured it was quite a feat to live so self destructively for so many years and still be able to hold down a job and not steal from my friends and family. In fact, if I die tomorrow, that is what I want to remembered for. On my headstone I'd like it to read "Auntie Scotch - She Was Not A Crack Whore." My finest accomplishment.

So you can see how it may worry me a bit that there is an addictive drug out there that is affecting my soon to be age group.

I can see it now, I'm 35, I'm at a dinner party with friends and just as the hostess is about to serve dessert and coffee someone busts out a meth pipe. Buckling under peer pressure and driven by a constant need to fit in, I take a hit.

Next thing you know, everything I achieved over the past five years is gone - my fabulous husband, my wonderful children, my million dollar home and red hot career. I'm back living in the apartment upstairs from my mother, broke, alone, spending my free time blogging about nonsense.

Christ I'm pathetic.

Great Day For Massholes

Now, you should know by now that I don't like to blog about anything deeper than my laundry woes, obsession with little people, and my stance on the state of public transportation in Boston. It's not because I have this intelligent side of me that I'm trying to hide from you, it's because I'm pretty self-absorbed and shallow - a stereo-typical fat American who resists getting involved in anything beyond the three walls of my cubicle unless it affects my everyday life. I was pissed when the final debates were on the very same night Entertainment Tonight was running it's exclusive interview with Anna Nicole Smith, knocking it off the air. WTF?

Despite that, I am still going to tell you that I am elated with the election results. The dems are back baby!!

I do have to admit I was a little put-off but the whole anti-Patrick campaign that had him on my television every half hour describing the wonderful qualities of a rapist. Was it just me or did it seem like he was trying to convince someone to go on a blind date with this guy?

"He's very eloquent...."

Um, yeah, I hear ya D...but the whole sexual assault thing is kind of a turn-off. I do have standards ya know.

"He's very well-spoken..."

Okay, enough already, you can give him my number. But I'm not promising I'll go out with him. What does he look like?