Another Year Over...

When I created our cards this year my main focus was to share a little bit of everything we did throughout the year. I didn't want Christmas card specific, more of an overview instead of just holiday. And man, did we ever have a busy 2013!

Some other people made it onto the card - we were in two weddings (1 each, Matt and me), had family and friends in town multiple times, traveled, started some home renovation and even waited so long for a table at a restaurant the baby occupying it started to grow a beard. Or something like that.

2013 started out great, we celebrated the New Year with some friends and had a nice quiet night with food, fun and a champagne toast. In February my aunt came to visit and we found ourselves at a Coyotes game in our short sleeves. Gotta love Phoenix!

Spring brought more fun stuff. In March we went to a spring training game where I got to see Terry Francona coaching the Indians and Matt got to enjoy his favorite sport in a cool ballpark. April was jam packed (a trip to Cali for Matt's birthday, touring Jobing.com Arena, The Run for Boston initiative, the Bruins made the playoffs...) but the biggest event was D&D flying across the country to get married at The Grand Canyon. It was amazing, a perfect spot for a wedding. A perfect wedding for a perfect couple! In May Matt's mom came out to visit and the three of us plus my mom went up to Sedona to explore and take pictures.

June was a milestone for me - I got to celebrate my 40th birthday! What a surprise it was for me too. After seeing a movie and hanging out all day with my mom & Wendy we came back to the house to find a back yard full of friends from Phoenix and Tucson and then I heard a voice...my first roomie, Keith, was somewhere in my house. His voice was coming through a speaker. And then he announced there was a surprise guest. My aunt Sue walked out my backdoor. I lost it. It was too much! So much love, so many people showed up to share my special day I couldn't have asked for a better fortieth birthday if I tried. Matt pulled it off...complete with graffiti and all.

July was pretty slim, we mostly just hung out in the pool all month, but Wendy came up a bunch of weekends while dealing with an out of order air conditioner. We all got to spend the weekend of her birthday together as well. And enter bearded baby.

The end of summer brought the beginning of us tearing apart the house - tile up, fireplace and wall down. That was about all we did in August. It's still going but getting closer to done.

In September we saw the Tucson Botanical Gardens and we did the Walk to End Alzheimer's. Plus we spent a good chunk of time in California. For our anniversary in September we went to see Dave Matthews Band in Chula Vista. Never a bad time at a Dave show - I danced my ass off all night long.

In October we headed out to another wedding when my sister's close friends got hitched right on the beach in Laguna at sunset. Ah-mazing! October also saw me increase my client list and start making a real income which was awesome. And we had all our drain plumbing replaced, which wasn't as awesome but certainly makes it more functional around here now.

Matt rounded out the year of weddings in November when he stood as a groomsman for one of his oldest friends. We were on a plane and back on the east coast in Washington D.C. for that one. Met so many amazing people, made some new friends and even got to spend some time with family while we were in the Maryland neck of the woods.  Matt & Wendy's boyfriend both went ice skating for the first time and Wendy & I both got on skates for the first time in the better part of a decade. That was fun! Having Thanksgiving with my mom, Matt, my in-laws and my Step-MIL's daughter and family was so much fun and a great way to end November.

December so far has been a great month for bringing closure to another calendar year. Between home improvement store shopping and installation of flooring and a brand new guest bath we've seen tons of Christmas lights, taken a trip to Tucson and I've helped my mom prep and paint her house.

By the time January 1, 2014 rolls in we'll have also been to another hockey game and toasted with a rendition of the Boston Pops on TV.

I had a great year, so much fun, family, friends, food, travel and adventure its hard to believe it all squeezed onto a tiny 4" x 8" Christmas card. But the back really says it all about 2013:

I can't wait to see what 2014 brings! Have a safe, festive and Happy New Year everyone!

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Content Marketing Strategist and Blogger for hire, Jenn has over 12 years of freelancing experience. Let her write your next webpage, blog post, article or newsletter. Get in touch with her today info [at] copywritethat [dot] com

This List Should be Shrinking not Growing, Right?

I’ve been pitching for a bunch of different writing gigs lately and this morning THE ideal job posting came across the wires – a travel blog writer. For money. Holy crap! I don’t really have experience writing articles so much but I’m an expert reviewer. Not to mention an expert traveler by car as couples.

So that’s what I based my pitch on. Along with some creative and flowery adjectives describing my own backyard. Hey, travel starts in your own neighborhood right? Especially when you’re an “expat” like me – a Townie in a new land.

But anyway, while I was going back through my blog posts to see what articles I could share as samples of my style, I came across a post from April 16, 2011 titled Something to Do Before I Die. I re-read it and had to laugh. My bucket list that I wrote back then included a bunch of good stuff but the list itself has definitely grown since I wrote that post. But a few things got knocked off and they sure were fun!

Let’s break it down and see where I’m at as of September 2013…

The Bucket List – as originally published on 4/16/2011

• Be on the New York Times best sellers list, “The” list not one of those offshoots

Um, not quite there just yet. Don’t know how soon this one might get crossed off but I’ll keep giving that old college try!

• Travel to Spain, specifically Barcelona

We have some friends with a condo in Rocky Point, Mexico. Their place is right on the beach and only about a 3 or so hour drive from Phoenix. And they go almost every weekend in the summer and keep inviting us to go with them. Why am I telling you this on a point related to Spain? Well, we haven’t even gotten our passports updated to go 3 hours away by car with friends. So looks like Spain is on the back burner for a while, huh?

• Travel back to Amsterdam (with Matt this time)

See above…

• Travel back to Ireland

Someday…

• Travel to Hawaii

We actually have the opportunity to stay with my sister’s BFF and her husband who just recently moved to one of the Hawaiian islands to live permanently. No passport required? Free place to stay? Challenge accepted!

• Travel to Portugal

You know the answer by now.

• Live and make a living in San Diego

Not yet but this is definitely on both mine and Matt’s radar right now. We got home from our anniversary trip and actually seriously started talking about how we could make it happen to get a condo out there that we rent out until we’re ready to “retire” (I use quotes because I’ll be writing until my fingers fall off, the retiring part can be left to Matt).

• See the Red Sox play the Yankees at Fenway in a game 4 for the sweep and kick their sorry asses right back to the Bronx where they belong (if this season is any indication I’ve got a couple years before this occurs)

As predicted, not so much the past couple seasons. Although this one is looking pretty promising. But I can 100% guarantee I wouldn’t be able to catch the game even if it happened as I laid out here. Too much other travel this fall for weddings. We won’t be able to get back to Boston until next summer unfortunately.

• Settle for seeing the Sox beat the Yanks in any regular season game at Fenway

And because we can’t get back east until 2014 I’d settle for seeing it happen on TV.

• Sit beside my Aunt at the finals when the Bruins win the Cup for the first time in 38+ years (yes, I mean this year damn it!)

I did not get to sit next to Sue when they won the Cup but…

• Settle for seeing them win the cup at all (either in the stands or on my sofa next to my Aunt) and getting to go to the parade

GOAL ACHIEVED!!! (Pun intended). That was THE BEST WAY EVER to wrap up our Boston lives before moving to Arizona! The parade was insanely cool and something I’ll remember the rest of my life. And I’m so glad I got to share that day with Sue, Matt and my Uncle!

• Becoming a millionaire, not through inheritance or anything like that, my own blood, sweat & tears

Still working on this one…

• Graduate college

No longer caring to work on this one…

• Be in a big budget movie (I’ll even take a small part like “Friend’s neighbor” or something but it has to be a speaking role [one line will do] and I must be credited

Not yet but I’ll keep it in the back of my mind. I am so not attractive on camera and I really dislike my recorded voice, but maybe with the right lighting and direction, plus the fact I wouldn’t have to be the “star” would help me be better at those parts?

• Make my living as a published author (book tours, readings/signings, etc included)

I think I should’ve said published Writer, not Author, because that’s more in line with my real life goals. And I’m actually making major headway toward that now doing freelance and publishing books. I love my job!

• Get to see all 50 states & spend time in each of them seeing sights (20 down -- MA, NH, VT, ME, CT, RI, NY, NJ, PA, OH, MD, DE, NC, FL, TX, AZ, CA, DC, LA, GA -- of course the only time I really spent in Delaware was at rest stops but what else is there to see, really? I imagine we’ll knock at least 7 more off the list just driving out to our new home and probably another 5 within the first year we live out there. That only leaves 18 more!)

OK, I’m up to: MA, NH, VT, ME, CT, RI, NY, NJ, PA, OH, MD, DE, NC, SC, VA, FL, TX, AZ, CA, DC, LA, GA, TN, MS, OK, AR, NM

That’s 26 states and one Capital. Only 14 to go, mostly stuff in the middle and northwest.

• Drive a race car around a track at over 125 mph

Not yet!

• Go white water rafting again

Done it once so it isn’t as crucial I get back, just something I’d love to do with Matt.

• Get Matt to Disney World

This will happen for our 15 year anniversary. I’m making the declaration now.

Stuff that should’ve been included (some of which is already crossed off)

Catch a Green Bay Packers game at Lambeau

Get to a game at every NHL arena (2 down, only 28 to go!)

Become a season ticket holder of a professional US sport – Coyotes here we come!

Be in the studio audience at the Maury show when the DNA test results are revealed.

Meet Jason Mraz (preferably not as a fan-girl but maybe at a party or something)

Renovate a home (not in the ghetto) that we intend to live in – Currently in process!

Get a byline in a major market publication (I’ll take magazine or newspaper and online is ok)

Publish something that goes viral

Chase a tornado

Own a second home used only for vacations or rental income

Make enough as a Writer that Matt can quit working Corporate (if he wants to)

Learn to surf (even though I’m terrified of sharks I still can’t shake this one)

Get to Australia & New Zealand

I’m sure there’s more but I just can’t think of them off the top right now. Maybe I’ll have a lot to cross off and more to add in another 2-1/2 years. Until then, it looks like the top item on the list should be ‘Update passport’ huh?

What are your top 3 bucket list items?

• • • • • • • • • • •
Content Marketing Strategist and Blogger for hire, Jenn has over 12 years of freelancing experience. Read her blog

Sir Matt

There are days when I feel like my husband should be knighted for his awesomeness. Or maybe proclaimed to be a saint. Because most of the time he just can’t help doing the right thing without a single moment of hesitation. Saturday August 18 was one of those times.

Normally this knee-jerk reaction to him needing high fives for being a good-person-overachiever has to do more with the fact that he’s somehow managed to put up with my ass for the past thirteen or so years. But on Saturday Matt just jumped into action like there wasn’t a question about it.

Late afternoon on Friday my Mom came up and planned to spend the weekend. We hung around for a couple hours and chatted before Matt got home. While we were hanging out the movie “It Could Happen to You” came on and we ended up watching the whole thing sitting there in our bathing suits. We were getting in the pool but that movie is so dang cute neither of us wanted to stop watching.

So what does any of that have to do with Matt’s newly bestowed title? Well Nicholas Cage plays the leading man, Charlie Lang, a cop in NYC who never fails to do the right thing when it comes to being a decent human being. His wife in the flick (Rosie Perez) can’t understand how he could have promised half of their lottery winnings to some random waitress (Bridget Fonda). But Charlie doesn’t back down on his promise. He never stops being a kind, generous and wonderful person despite all the crap that gets thrown at him.

The movie came out in 1994. I promised myself after watching it that I would find a guy just like Charlie as the leading man in my own life. Maybe he screws up occasionally, maybe he isn’t perfect, but somewhere deep down in the depths of his soul he’s just a decent and kind human being.

Well by some miracle of fate, I happened to find the real life Charlie and even more odd, they’re both from New York!

On Saturday morning we all discussed taking a road trip to somewhere none of us had ever been before. With Sunset Crater chosen as our destination, we hit the open road and headed north toward Flagstaff. The place was pretty cool, lots and lots of lava flow rocks from the volcano that erupted only about 1000 years ago. But the place we really wanted to see was up the road – an 800 year old pueblo that was mostly still standing. Um, cool!

We made it there about an hour before sunset and headed up the short path to this former house on top of a rock. There were two other groups there at the same time as us (which was weird because it was in the middle of nowhere. On our way up the path the couple with the fancy-pants camera set-up made their way back to the parking lot with a scowl. I wanted to say ‘gee, sorry to interrupt your photo op in this public state park’ but kept my mouth shut. The other group was a mom and what looked to be her two teenage children.

Mom, Matt and I explored the various rooms and the last three people eventually left. We had the place to ourselves so we acted a little dorky and took a whole bunch of pictures. Like this one taken earlier:

We headed back out to see that we weren’t alone in the parking lot. The minivan with the small family was still sitting there. Which I thought was strange because they’d taken off at least fifteen minutes before we made our way back to our car. The daughter was walking towards us. All of a sudden I hear “Excuse me, can you help us with a tire? We have a flat.”

Oh no.

Here’s what it looks like out there:

Um…

Luckily they had a jack and a spare. But this was a minivan, not a car with a trunk or a Jeep with a tire mounted to the back. Take a wild guess where the tire was located? Give up? Yeah, it’s under the vehicle. You have to use this weird contraption that forms the shape of a T and release some cable – done from the inside the vehicle - in order to drop the thing down so you can access the donut.

Now my phone chose this exact moment to die so the most important pictures weren’t even captured. Stupid roaming killing my battery too quickly!

But here’s a free piece of advice for everyone out there – NEVER approach a writer who is currently working on a suspense novel when she and her family are in the middle of nothingness, without another soul around, the Ranger’s station approximately two miles away, and a situation that is way too obvious as a trap because she won’t actually believe all you need is help changing a tire until you’ve already driven away with a donut attached to your car.

Here’s how the situation went in my head – the teenage boy takes the contraption shaped like a T, knocks Matt over the head with it and then kidnaps Mum & me to sell us into some kind of underground slavery ring while Matt lies bleeding out at the end of a dead end street in the middle of the desert.

Yeah, I really gotta find a way to separate fantasy from reality.

Because the actual scene looked a lot more like this:

Yeah, yeah. Perhaps I’m just slightly biased as to the inherent sexiness of my husband in a crisis situation but I think all five of us who were standing there watching him jack up that minivan to replace the tire would agree that he’s pretty kick-ass.

And nary a tire iron swung at anyone’s head during the entire experience. Imagine that!

They thanked us profusely and said “can we give you anything for your trouble?” Now don’t get me wrong, I certainly wouldn’t accept a dime from someone in this situation, we were all just lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time, but I thought it was kind of them to offer anyway.

Matt said “all you can give me is the knowledge that you get home safely tonight.” Seriously, who’s in charge of the sword on the shoulder thing? I’ve got your candidate right here.

Somewhere I’d Love to Travel?

So today wants to know the answer to the title’s question and of course the customary photo must accompany the answer. Didn’t I just cover this a couple days ago in my Bucket List? I did but I guess other people’s lists include stuff like paragliding, swimming with sharks or chasing a tornado.

All stuff I failed to actually put on my Bucket List unfortunately, but all stuff I really must do. I’ll definitely be alone for the sharks, after that episode of “When Vacations Attack” the other night where the shark actually broke through the cage, I think Matt will be holding some rosary beads, and praying for my safe surfacing, while firmly planted on the boat. And he’s not even a Christian. And has no idea what rosary beads even are.

Anyway, in order to do those couple things there are clearly some places I’ll need to visit -- a mountainous region for the running & gliding off, a tropical local where sharks swim and I won’t freeze in the water and of course Oklahoma. I’ll be getting OK out of the way on the drive out to Phoenix and though seeing a tornado from the rental truck isn’t my most ideal situation I certainly won’t turn it away if it happens to happen.

Like 10 miles from where we’re driving, close enough to get good photos but far enough away that we don’t have to dive into a ditch or something.

Funny though, I think we actually lived through a tornado once. We were living on Long Island at the time, and if the thing wasn’t one then it was the strongest, most lightning filled, windiest thunderstorm I’ve ever experienced in my life. We were off to run errands and had to go back to the house for something. Next thing you know the camper down the street is showing signs of lift and we’re watching as a whole bunch of tree limbs go sailing down the street. The lightning was OVER the sun roof and though we’re both extreme weather freaks it was a pretty terrifying 5 minutes even for us.

Of course when it was over we were both yelling ‘that was AWESOME!’

So since we’ll be living among the mountains to do the parachute glide thing, driving through tornadoes on the way to the mountains, and I put it on my list twice the other day, I’ll go with Hawaii as my want to see travel destination of choice. Mostly for the beach but hell if I won't do the shark dive there too!  Ah paradise!

And maybe I’ll add volcano exploration to the bucket list too…

Photo taken by Vincent Khoury Tylor - please click the link to access the artist’s website. No seriously, do it right now because his photos are so stunning I FEEL like I’m there!

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Something to Do Before I Die

Where do I even begin? This is one of those requests that makes me think that perhaps all my ranting that I don’t live with regret is not at all true. Would I die unhappy if I didn’t get to do x, y, or z? I guess I’d never truly know seeing as though I’d be six feet under all that stuff, but as a living, breathing me at this moment I feel like there are so many things I want to get to before I die that I guess the good news is I still have a bunch of awesome stuff to live for right?

Of course I’ll probably think of 100 more as soon as I post this but…

In no particular order here’s my list of stuff that would be fantastic to experience before I die.

The Bucket List

• Be on the New York Times best sellers list, “The” list not one of those offshoots
• Travel to Spain, specifically Barcelona
• Travel back to Amsterdam (with Matt this time)
• Travel back to Ireland
• Travel to Hawaii
• Travel to Portugal
• Live and make a living in San Diego
• See the Red Sox play the Yankees at Fenway in a game 4 for the sweep and kick their sorry asses right back to the Bronx where they belong (if this season is any indication I’ve got a couple years before this occurs)
• Settle for seeing the Sox beat the Yanks in any regular season game at Fenway
• Sit beside my Aunt at the finals when the Bruins win the Cup for the first time in 38+ years (yes, I mean this year damn it!)
• Settle for seeing them win the cup at all (either in the stands or on my sofa next to my Aunt) and getting to go to the parade
• Becoming a millionaire, not through inheritance or anything like that, my own blood, sweat & tears
• Graduate college
• Be in a big budget movie (I’ll even take a small part like “Friend’s neighbor” or something but it has to be a speaking role [one line will do] and I must be credited
• Make my living as a published author (book tours, readings/signings, etc included)
• Get to see all 50 states & spend time in each of them seeing sights (20 down -- MA, NH, VT, ME, CT, RI, NY, NJ, PA, OH, MD, DE, NC, FL, TX, AZ, CA, DC, LA, GA -- of course the only time I really spent in Delaware was at rest stops but what else is there to see, really? I imagine we’ll knock at least 7 more off the list just driving out to our new home and probably another 5 within the first year we live out there. That only leaves 18 more!)
• Drive a race car around a track at over 125 mph
• Go white water rafting again
• Get Matt to Disney World

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My Life Would Suck Without You

Today I’m supposed to post ‘a picture of someone you could never imagine your life without’. There is no question that person is Matt. We’ve known each other for twelve years now, (almost to the day in fact!) and it feels like five minutes ago that we met out on that smoking patio at Flagstar.

My life has been forever changed because you’re in it, I really couldn’t imagine slipping on a banana peel and roller-blading into a Sasquatch with anyone but you.

I’ve dedicated a whole lot of time and stories galore to my husband on this blog over the years, so today I’m going to leave you with a link to the post I wrote on our anniversary in September of 2008.

Easier

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Lets Get Pissed!

A picture of the person you do the most screwed up things with. That’s today’s little photographic snack. I can’t believe it took me this many days before featuring Matt but he just didn’t fit the bill before. Today’s however, although it was kind of a tough decision overall, is really just perfectly suited to get him some air time.

I really, honestly grappled whether I should pick him for this category as I started thinking my friend D is a fairly appropriate choice. She and I have done stuff over the years so far beyond the level of ‘screwed up’, that it’s probably illegal in some states.

Actually, okay, it’s probably only legal in some states.

Now get your mind out of the gutter, that’s not what I mean.

But I also can’t really tell you what I mean. If I talk about all the occasions when we did all we did, I’d potentially get her fired. Ah the beauty of the internet, it’s a breeding ground for lies and deceptions so as to elude the boss’ roving eye. And really, what the hell is your boss doing online anyway? Shouldn’t he/she be working too? Yeah, that’s what I thought. But I digress…

As far back as I can remember Matt and I have been doing all kinds of effed up stuff together. And I guess every person is really going to have a wildly different definition of what constitutes doing screwed up stuff. For me its all about randomness, acting like dorks, getting into trouble without being in trouble, leaping without looking kind of stuff, taking chances and all around just doing what feels right at the time even if it isn’t what society would deem the smartest or most adult thing to do. And nine times out of ten it will involve a road trip or travel in some way.

He’s the one I ran around gas pumps with, singing at the top of our lungs, at 1:00 in the morning, in the middle of BFE Pennsylvania the Saturday of the weekend we drove his car to Ohio.

He’s the one who drove us home from Manhattan the night we all walked around the Upper East Side screaming with laughter, and then later he cleaned the upchucked red wine out of his front door pocket and speaker (yeah that would’ve been me).

He’s the only one who could really understand why the “ice machine” is one of the most important features of a Motel 6 in the middle of Ohio.

He’s the only one I could ever imagine being with when we wake up at 9:00 on a Saturday morning and say ‘Hey, let’s go to Quebec for the afternoon.” And then we do.

He’s the one who piggy backed me out of a club in downtown Boston totally sober and reminded me that there are still good people out there in the world over coffee that lasted until who knows what hour.

He’s the only person I could ever imagine understanding why it’s just so much easier to drive to Toronto to pick up our wedding bands than to have them shipped to us.

He’s the one who makes my friends laugh because he’s the only guy I’ve ever met whose wit can actually keep up with mine.

He’s the only person who could ever enjoy getting his ass kicked in Scrabble 9.9 out of 10 times but still gets excited to bring the travel version with us to an outdoor music festival where we play a couple games over a couple beers and he gets his ass kicked yet again.

He’s there when I spend countless dollars in the machine to get stickers that end up plastered all over both of our bumpers.

He’s the one who points at the fire engine red hair dye and says ‘just do that again.’

He’s the only person I know that would agree to drive down to Maryland with me, when I’m leaving to go do a paint job in less than an hour, then have me drop him at the airport in Baltimore on the way to the jobsite so he can fly back the exact same day.

He’s the only one I’d ever want to pick on the Bra Genie infomercial with.

He’s the one whose hand I’m holding when we decide to crash a townie bar -- in Ireland, on the Jersey Shore, wherever -- and end up making friends with everyone in the place before the night is over.

He’s the only one who understands why pulling over in Connecticut, while on a random road trip, is absolutely necessary sometimes.

He’s the guy that just last week asked me ‘Should we just move to California instead?’

He’s the guy who will find a chili cheese dog with onions, even if it takes 4 hours of driving around to locate somewhere to buy one, and then discovering on the way back from that place that there was a Dairy Queen 15 minutes away from our house.

He’s just as likely as I am to point at something from the road and say ‘get me to that’, regardless if we have to drive through paint scratching, brambling branches or entire farms worth of deer to see it.

He’s the one I’ve been with when staying in the top five sketchiest motels of all time -- Grand Prix in Florida, Motel 6 in Springfield, That one on the way to Atlanta when we heard gunfire out the window, the motel in Ohio where people like to see their cars, and of course who could ever forget Pottsville, Pennsylvania where I couldn’t even begin to list all the ways that place was a crime scene.

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All You Need Is a Light Jacket

Some of you will recognize the reference in the title, and those who do will understand that although I’m not specifically picking April 25th as my day four selection, I am trying to think outside the confines of how it reads. Because, like I thought when reading the list initially and Bridgete said yesterday, how on earth could I pick just one?

Today’s photographic selection is:
A picture of your favorite night

So am I really supposed to look back over time and pick a night, just one, that was the most amazing and significant night of my life? If so how could I honestly rate one above the other?

My wedding was pretty fracking awesome.
• But was it really better than the night I got to celebrate (miraculously) graduating from high school?
• The first night I spent, born, on this planet?
• The first time I had sex?
• A random Sunday on a road trip while laughing hysterically?
• That night I got the ‘all clear’ call from my BFF about the C word?
• The time when I was fortunate enough to be invited on a free trip to Disney and got to go on some of the park’s most awesome rides after dark, with just our group and no one else, then ate a catered and served fancy dinner inside the ride?
• The party at my very first apartment?
• The one and only time I made alternate for the gymnastics League Meet?
• When I saw Jason Mraz with no more than 100 people in NYC, he was still a “nobody”, and I was about 20 feet from the stage when someone yelled at him “have my Asian baby” and despite his obvious end of tour exhaustion he laughed out loud?
• Any of the 3rd of July’s in Humarock?
• The one and only time I ever bet on sports and won $1000?
• The first time I was ever put 'on the list' at the door of a club?
• The night I let my friend’s now ex do up my bleach blonde hair in the most insanely freaky style ever then went out to dance in Raleigh (stone cold sober because I was the DD) and took home an Army brat that I didn’t sleep with?
• The time I saw Joey McIntyre at the Hatch Shell, wrote about the show, pitched it to a local radio station and was subsequently published for the first time?
• Every single night because Matt and I cuddle up and snuggle before falling asleep?
• When I won tickets on the radio to go see Bryan Adams back in the 80’s and my sister and I had my dad take us to Worcester where just the two of us got to see the show from like the second row of the first balcony?
• My grampa Ed’s funeral after party? (No judgment people, we’re Irish so the funeral party is almost as big a celebration of life as a birth, wedding, random Tuesday…)
• The night we were the only Americans in a semi-secret club in Amsterdam because I happened to tip the girl serving me coffee and simply asked where was cool to go dance?
• The first time Matt asked me out (and then I made him wait approximately 1000 more nights before saying yes) when he carried me on his back out of the club (sober) and we realized we had way too much in common as we stayed up almost all night talking over coffee at Bickford’s in Woburn?
• Every single night of my almost 38 years on this planet?

Whew, that’s a tall order!

So I’m not going to pick a night from my past, I’m not going to pick a night of the week either. Instead I’m just going to pick my favorite Night -- "Starry Night" by my all time favorite painter Vincent van Gogh.

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Boredom Is…

Being sick. Okay, in all fairness it’s not really being sick that defines boredom but rather the lack of options when one is. I guess it was my body’s way of saying ‘oh no, I think you had plenty of excitement last weekend down at the Jersey Shore to suffice for an entire week of laying around.’ So lay around I do.

This week we got back from our long weekend in New Jersey and all I brought back was some awesome arcade booty and a killer cold. Thanks for that New Jersey. I was already on the fence about you, so this just pushed me right over the edge.

Tuesday morning I woke up and just knew something was off. I could feel the first rumblings of a cough in the upper area of my chest and my head had a slight tinge of an ache way in the back recesses. But since I never stop, I plunked myself in front of my computer instead of on the sofa. Mistake number one.

Hey, I finished 9 chapters and got all the pictures from our trip edited so I was feeling pretty good. But as the day progressed my eyelids started getting heavier and so did my cough. I made myself tea and repeated the ‘I’m healthy’ mantra over and over but by dinner time I had to admit it -- I was sick.

So I should back up here and say that being sick just isn’t in my vocabulary. I have a pretty healthy immune system and because I generally try to eat well and get decent sleep every night I’m able to fight off whatever germs come my way, even if Matt caught it first. Sick baffles me and I start to consider just how I could have picked up this nasty viral bitch.

Perhaps it was the hotel room door swinging back and forth in the breeze even with the deadbolt on (in the most ghetto part of town mind you) that kept me up at night, causing lack of sleep so I wasn’t well rested. Maybe it was the 5 beers I drank in four hours at the local townie bar while watching the Patriots lose to the Jets (its $2 pints every day and all day at Riggers woo hoo!). Or maybe, just maybe, it was the very drunk, and very sad, birthday girl crying on my shoulder in the ladies room that brought on the germs.

Then again it could have been from playing skee ball for 2 hours in the arcade with all of those under ten germ machines (high score 340,000 in one game…I rule!). It wasn’t like I was carrying around a bottle of hand sanitizer that I used every time after I threw a ball. Mistake number two.

Regardless of where the little bugger found its way into my system, by Wednesday morning I was toast.

And because I don’t get sick often I’m really no good at it. Like, really no good. I set up my laptop table and a cup of chai tea and decided that if I couldn’t be at the computer, there was at least going to be a little work done on my book that day. I was on a roll from Tuesday and wanted to finish everything this week.

Insert hysterical laughter here.

I barely made it through one chapter. One chapter I’ll have to go back and re-edit again that is. I thought it was just my body that rebelled against me but my brain wasn’t functioning either. I couldn’t get clear enough to wrap my head around my characters so every word I wrote sounded stiff and forced, and that was exactly what I was trying to get rid of in the first place.

Between flushing out the fluids, downing cough medicine like it was the latest drink craze and stirring chicken soup, I was spent. With a sigh I closed my laptop and admitted defeat.

But my next move was unthinkable. Even I couldn’t believe I was doing it but I went to the free movies list in my cable provider’s ‘On Demand’ menu and started cherry picking the best of the best.

Insert sarcasm here.

I let myself watch such classics as Single White Female, Sister Act, and Jury Duty (that’s right, the one with Pauly Shore). And just when things looked like they couldn’t get any lower I thought ‘huh, I’ve never actually seen The Blue Lagoon…’

Oh yes, I definitely went there. And it was everything I knew it would be. Luckily Matt came home shortly after that and distracted me or who knows where my viewing lows might have gone. Not that I could talk to him or anything, every time I opened my mouth to say anything I went into a coughing fit.

Insert Matt’s glee that I shut up for five seconds, and he got an entire night of peace for once, here.

With all of the best bad movies already watched on Wednesday, on Thursday I decided to go with the House marathon. I was hopeful that maybe some patient would get a rare case of the common cold so I could heal myself and stop watching television all day.

No such luck. But it was nice to see that Mackenzie Astin and D.B. Sweeney are still working. The Facts of Life and The Cutting Edge were a long time ago after all.

Today is better, I’m not as snuffly or heavy-chested but even just the hour it’s taken to type this up has caused me to wear out a little (okay, a lot but I’m still in denial). So look, I gave you two good long days body, now its your turn to give back because if I don’t get out of this house and to my drum lesson today or Town(ie) Night fireworks in Arlington tonight I’m sure to go mad.

Seriously. Don’t make me pull out Encino Man, because I will.

That Most Definitely Is a Wrap

I keep posting stuff that is in direct relation to what Jason is posting. Some of you who read his stuff too might just start wondering if I have run out of original material. But then again if you really know me (and believe me, I’m quite comfortable in saying there are many of you who do ♥love♥) then you understand when I say that we are comparable personalities so to sometimes write similar stuff does not tend to bother or surprise me anymore.

Most of the time.

This time is odd because having a similar feeling to his, as documented in his most recent post, is a bit surreal.

But here it is anyway.

For the past two weeks Matt and I have been cat sitting for my friend’s mom’s cat Zoe while they are off touring the west coast, meeting up with friends and generally having some vacation fun. Yea! These people are awesome, my second family seriously, and I am fully comfortable hanging at their place. For a while. What I am not so comfortable with is sleeping in their bed for two weeks, misplacing my stuff all over their house and showering in their shower. What I really mean to say of course is I miss my own home. Even if it does smell like dead cabbage cat in my building, it is mine.

I love to travel so even with the paranoid delusions I have about hotel rooms, there is something about getting away that is so liberating. Call it the nomad in me but setting out for wherever, whenever, is an art I have longed to master for most of my life. But then I get to a point where all I want to say is ‘OK I’m done now’ and poof! Magically I am transported back to my own sofa, my own bed, my own comfort place. I have reached that place now but there are still three more days to go. Boo.

Kids and babies are allowed to whine and cry when they can not have the instant gratification of getting what they want the exact moment they desire it. As adults we have to suck it up and deal; or vent in our blogs I suppose. Well consider this my personal, cranky pants rant.

And go.

I have not slept in almost 10 nights now because their bed is made out of, oh what is that substance I’m looking for? I think it’s called, concrete…? Throw that concrete mattress into a cauldron with some brick pillows, a Maglite streetlight, non-locatable beeping watch at 3AM and a 12 pound cat running around on squeaky hardwood floors every night, chill to approximately 62 degrees no matter what the heat is set on and its insomnia stew! Maybe I wouldn’t be so ornery if it was my own stuff in the house; just goes to show we all get used to our own quirky things and that sometimes stuff is not just stuff.

If I spent most of my life traveling like a touring musician I guess it might be something I got used to but I am not a touring musician, I am a writer and I want to go home.

Admittedly, there are definitely pros and cons to everything in life right? Some of the pros -- we are right downstairs from our best friends and it has been awesome to see them more frequently, we are thoroughly entertained by a complete tweaker cat again since Scrubby passed away so long ago, there is a dishwasher, Matt’s commute has been shortened by about twenty minutes each way everyday, there is a dishwasher, there is a washing machine that does not require quarters to operate, there is a dishwasher, we have about 300 extra square feet to spread out in. Oh and did I mention there is a dishwasher?

We are not even all that far away from home, just three miles away in the same town in fact but since we are required to spend the night I feel like we are on the other side of the planet until I come back here in the mornings to write. But oddly, even though I enter my apartment everyday now, the air in here is not the same as usual. The energy that generally resides in my home is lying dormant due to lack of daily activity. It would be cool to have someone else stay here while we are gone so at least their vibe would be hanging around. As it is all I can pick up on are the teeny waves from the one, almost dead, plant in the living room and whatever slid off me from the day before.

We are due to return to our cozy and comfy abode on Saturday and the sun is supposed to be shining for the first time in about 8 days and it is due to be in the upper 70’s. Coincidence? I think not. It is fairly likely that my activities over this weekend will consist of opening all the windows and blasting some of Jason’s music to commemorate my very own homecoming. Maybe I’ll even force Matt to boogie in the living room with me just to bring the energy meter back up to high again.

End rant.

Its Not You, Its Me

I am so, so sorry Random Lunacy. I wanted to write, really I did but it just seems like life has gotten in the way recently. Its nothing you did wrong. Truly it is all me. What’s that you ask? What is Facebook? Well it’s nothing to be jealous about, I mean it isn’t like I would ever give you up for it or anything. FB is just a fling, you are my oldest and dearest addiction, I promise there is nothing to worry about. Sometimes a girl really just needs her space, even from something as awesome as a blog like you.

Nothing has seemed to hit me that I feel like writing about lately. Clearly, since I have not posted since the beginning of the month. There is something kind of big going on with a friend right now but it is not something I want to put out there in full on detail so I feel like I am not able to really talk about anything since it is one of the more prevalent thoughts in my head right now. So instead of sharing some goofy story about my past or writing something clever about my neighbor who sings opera I have just abandoned my awesome blog for stupid note tags in Facebook.

Oh the shame.

Ok to be fair it isn’t all about FB, I have been really inspired to write Green Leaf Reviewer posts again and I started a very significant story back in December that is shaping up to become a novel. I guess there is just not enough inspiration to spread around and back here to my old dear blog. Well that and the ridiculous flu like cold that knocked me flat on my back for five full days.

After a week of being sick was followed up by a Saturday full of sunshine, it was time to get out of here last weekend and we kicked it old style.

Matt and I were the original random road trippers. It was not rare for one or the other of us to get home on a Friday night and ask ‘where can we get in six hours?’ then head out for that location packing up nothing more than a big bottle of water, an overnight bag and a camera. Last Saturday we skipped the over night bag and brought passports instead and Matt surprised me with a day trip up to Quebec. Yes, as in the Canadian province.

We took off to get lunch at about one in the afternoon and surprise, Matt had passports in his pocket and we were on the road. I forgot how cool the White Mountain range was.

Unfortunately by the time we got to Canada it was getting dark so the only photo I snapped was a slightly blurry picture of the solar panels on top of the border patrol building (woo hoo Canada for going green!) and the Quebec sign.

Now people who know Matt and I understand our propensity for taking off for far lands on a whim -- it really is no thing for us to say ‘yeah, we went to Canada yesterday’ -- but the border patrol tends to show their confusion at the fact that yes we came all the way from Boston to simply drive around Sherbrooke for a couple hours, no we don’t know anyone in Canada and no we are not planning to spend the night. But luckily even though they thought we must be total freaks they let us in with a ‘have a nice time’ and what border patrol considers a smile. Better known as pursed lips and handing back our passports.

On the two hour tour we both decided it would be a great idea to go back up some time in the spring or summer and actually spend a weekend because there were quite a few cool monuments to see, pretty architecture, adorable shops and yummy looking restaurants, nevermind some gorgeous countryside to explore.

On the way back into the United States we chatted with the border patrol dude for a few minutes when he made it clear he was a Boston guy transplanted up to Vermont.

Him: “Where are you folks from?”
Us: “Arlington”
Him: “AHHHHHlingtun!”
Me: “Oh you’re from Boston!”
Him: “Yup lived in Mission Hill for a while. You guys Red Sox fans?”
Us: “Of course!”

What I should have done is asked if that question was rhetorical because, well, you know.

Him: “Cold enough up here for you?”
Matt: “Its actualy warmer here than it was in Boston earlier today.”
Him: “Well it was 30 below up here a couple weeks ago.”
Me: Jaw drops, head shakes. “How do you live? I mean you can’t possibly even breathe when you go outside in that crap?”
Him: “Nah, a big thick coat and a furry hat and its OK.”

We also chatted about Varitek, who’s manager had come through the booth shortly before he finalized his contract, and Papelbon who had just extended and then he gave a customary “Eh” and told us to have a safe drive back.

We arrived home just in time for Saturday Night Live and even though we had spent over ten hours on the road during my recuperation time I felt better than I had in ages. Nothing like a fun day of music and driving and a little International exploration to bring the roses back into a gal’s cheeks and the inspiration back to her blog.

Oughterrard

A light, cool breeze
I turned to view a green field,
In an instant,
Memories of you

Sunrise would be bedtime
Sleep deprived and backwards
Past the silent Aughnanure Castle
To the shores of the Lough Corrib

Warm tomatos, eggs and bacon
German tourists with well wishes
Cows graze in unspoiled meadows
Fog rolls in the morning

Red Rover, red Rover
Traverse the Connemara.
From Cliffs seven hundred feet above,
Wind down to sandy white beaches

Point then turn to follow
Hold breath through brambled branches
Ruins for exploration
Blazing skies blanket the mountains.

Tired of ham and cheese,
Chinese food in Galway?
Everything closes so early
Food past six is Guinness

Peat moss and singing fill the air
Dirt roads that wind with a smile
I miss the smells and sounds
Serenity and peace

San Diego, Dude

EDITOR'S NOTE: This post remains live, however, in 2023 it was heavily re-written and edited and is now included in the paperback: You Classy Beach, Or, are mermaids always this snarky? Available at the link in the sidebar or by clicking the above link which will take you to Lulu to purchase.

• • •

I fell in love with San Diego the moment my feet first hit curbside at the airport in 1998.

There was a conference going on for a company I formerly worked at and the guy I was seeing at the time (who worked there) convinced me it would be a great idea to tag along so I could see everyone. That trip was possibly the one good thing that came out of our relationship so I will forever be grateful that I went.

My flight, after an unplanned overnight in New Jersey and subsequent upgrade to first class, arrived a day after the conference began. I missed the company shuttle service to the hotel.

At the time I was twenty five years old and in the furthest geographical point from my home that I had ever been alone. But it was an area of the country I had wanted to explore for eleven years and I could not contain my excitement!

I stepped outside the airport, lit up a smoke, and pulled on my sunglasses, mentally recording every millisecond of my experience in the most wonderful city on earth.

Moments in my life that carry some kind of nostalgic meaning always stand out. I can recall even the strangest details related to the experience. For example, I'll never forget what I was wearing that day - a business casual outfit screaming “soccer mom” long before the term had been coined as a thing.

My taupe, ribbed, sweater paired with khaki pants and brown boots. The pants had a skinny ankle and the sweater had three mock, mother of pearl buttons just below the v-neck. To complete the look I tied a peach, floral scarf around my neck, wore small pearl earrings and the one piece of jewelry I always wore when traveling solo – my huge fake engagement ring.

As I stood there, looking like a flight attendant from 1988, smoking a Marlboro red, and way too young to have a fiancé, I took the first breath of air in my life.

Upon extinguishing my smoke I had to find alternate transportation to my hotel and there were plenty of shuttle vans available. The van I settled on was white and I don't recall the company but the driver is another detail of the trip I'll never forget.

He was loading luggage for a few passengers so I approached and asked if he could get me to my hotel. He glanced into the van at the other passengers and asked if I would mind taking the ride to Poway first. Not knowing what Poway was I said sure and climbed in.

Everyone started chatting before we even left the airport and I was shocked, but excited, by how friendly everyone was. A far cry from the guarded personalities back in my hometown of Boston.

One couple just got back from an anniversary vacation and a single guy, who was dropped downtown first, yakked our ears off the whole way. Poway, I quickly discovered, was a town a short distance away and would be where we dropped the couple.

To get there we exited the city and headed into more mountainous regions. The drive was amazing, I wished I'd taken my camera out of my suitcase to snap some shots of the breathtaking views and scenery we rode through. Even after this many years I can still see those vistas. It makes me smile just to imagine being there.

We dropped the couple at their house and I remember thinking it would be hard to navigate through that neighborhood after a night of drinking. Every house looked exactly the same. Another thing my nor'east 'hood was lacking. The driver asked if I wanted to hop up front instead of riding in the back alone and I said sure.

Before pulling away my driver introduced himself and extended a hand for me to shake. I smiled, shook his hand and introduced myself. He smiled back and we were on the road.

This man had a name I always associated with girls, not boys, but since I don't have his permission to use it, let's call him Casey.

Casey had sun kissed, shoulder length, brown hair, and was wearing a white button up shirt in thin cotton that only had a couple buttons done at the bottom. Like he ran out of time getting to work and just said screw it.

Tight jeans and a funky necklace completed his distinctive California look. He had a sweet and genuine smile, a warm laugh and a killer tan. The moment I laid eyes on him I pegged him as a surfer and there was no question he was a hottie.

Moments in my past involving adorable men who had that much confidence usually all ended the same way – I was too shy (or too monogamous) to do anything about it no matter how much I wanted to try to flirt.

On my way to meet up with my then boyfriend meant  it was one of those monogamous times. I decided to just enjoy his cuteness for as long as I had him and filed him away in my memory bank of guys I didn’t screw it up with. He'd thankfully remain tan and perfect forever.

Once we were safely away from the couple’s front door, Casey asked me if I wanted to get high.

There I was looking more straight-edge than a pot head but he pegged it dead on. A nice pull off a joint was exactly what I needed at that moment. I mean, how could I possibly have said no? I was in California, sunshine as bright as my scarf, and a van with a super cute surfer-slash-shuttle bus driver.

After we smoked we chatted away about our wildly different coasts until, seemingly too soon, we pulled up to the front door of my hotel.

This is the part where bold, single girls ask the cute surfer to hang out while they check in so they can spend the afternoon riding around town, seeing all the sights, while he shuttles back & forth before ending the day in a perfect California sunset. But as I already established, I've never been one of those girls.

Instead, I settled for a business card, a hug and a promise to “totally” look him up the next time I was on the west coast.

The conference went on and I spent hours by the pool during the day then evenings with my boyfriend and friends. We hung out at bars and made a trip to Tijuana, Mexico. It was nothing like I would have expected my first trip to SoCal to turn out, which made it just perfect.

• • •

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