I actually have a copy of this commercial on a VHS copy of the stage production of Peter Pan with Mary Martin which aired on NBC one year. I have no idea if it aired every year or what, because once I had it on VHS I watched it approximately every single day for the rest of my life.
Showing posts with label fun. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fun. Show all posts
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Expiration Date
I bought orange juice in November. I was sick; thought some juice would make me feel better. For some reason, however, I never opened the juice. I never unscrewed the cap, and more importantly, I never popped the inner seal.
This past week I decided to clean out the contents of the refrigerator. As I tossed aside forgotten leftovers and a half rotten bag of spinach, I came across the OJ, tucked in the very back of the fridge next to a tin of maple syrup.
The stamp on the carton read Nov 29 10. Curious, I shook the carton and then opened it up. I poured myself a glass and took a whiff. Orangey. The juice was the color of its parent fruit, without any sign of mold or rot. I drank three glasses of it as I finished the rest of my work. The next day, because I saw no problem with it, I finished the rest of the carton.
My little experiment's results didn't surprise me. I tend to be lax with expiration dates. Unlike the well meaning friend who once tried to dash the pills out of my hand once she saw the Tylenol had expired, I think of the tiny numbers as more of a suggestion than a rule.
This attitude was definitely something I learned as a child. In his copy of "Dad's Own Cookbook", my father found a chart of how long food can last when properly stored. He made a photocopy of it and it hung on our refrigerator as a guideline. The book, which I now have in my own kitchen, has this to say about hot dogs for example:
- opened package: one week
- unopened package: two weeks
- in a freezer and wrapped: 1-2 months
WebMD offers similarly practical advice in this feature article, as well as a guide to interpreting the difference between things like "sell by," and "best if used by" labels.*
On my lunch break at work while trying to get updates about the weather I stumbled on an article on Boston.com's home page about exactly this issue.
The article raised an interesting point - regardless of whether individuals choose to take a risks on an "expired" product or not, is it ethical (or legal) for schools or prisons to use foods which are past their dates.
Ah, So. The rub. I don't mind eating yogurt that's a week past its due date after I spot check it. What's more, after looking at it and smelling it, if I saw nothing wrong with it I would even give it to my own mother! But the question remains: would I want it dispensed sight unseen in a school? In a hospital? In a prison?
There is so much food wasted in this country every single day. In college I waited tables in the dining room of an Assisted Living Home for a while. At the end of the shift, I watched as entire pots of soup, plates of steak, steamed veggies were thrown into the dumpster. I begged the chef to let me take the wasted food at the end of the day to a local Soup Kitchen. "I'll do it myself," I said. "I'll come in on my nights off to pick it up as well." I imagined recruiting friends. We'd truck it over in backseats of our cars each night before the kitchen closed.
He smiled sadly at my idealism and then dismissed it. "We can't," he said. "The food wasn't kept on warmers. It can begin growing bacteria as it cools. As a chef, I simply couldn't allow people to eat that food. If they got sick..." He trailed off leaving me to my disappointment. It was one of my first lessons in the complexity of Hunger as one of those Big World Issues. Some people have more food than they need. Others have none. But sharing might be dangerous, so throw all the pot roast away.
So what about food BEFORE it is cooked? Do we have to throw that away too? Based on the voluntary dates that have been chosen arbitrarily in some cases and conservatively in almost all cases? what about milk in sealed bottles? Meat in its plastic sheath packing? What about canned goods, frozen foods, and rice in closed boxes?
Personally, I am not scandalized by the idea that prisons, schools, or even hospitals use food past the labeled "date," as long as the decisions to use the foods remain informed. Kitchen staff should have a knowledge of basic food safety and access to guidelines about the life expectancy of properly stored foods. They should be empowered by their direct supervisors to question stock based on what it looks like or smells like when they open it. The way anyone would do when cooking for themselves or a family member.
Also in college, under the tutelage of some Freegan friends I learned to harvest foods from dumpsters just after the local super market tossed away the day's produce. To this day, I don't see this as being much different from my Farmers Market strategy.** One of my favorite things to do then was to stake out the Dunkin Donuts on Rt 9 near Spirit Haus.They didn't put trash in with their donuts. Just bagged up the donuts and tossed them away at 11pm. Sometimes they would just hand them off, all bagged up like that. The donuts had reached their "expiration time," and could no longer be sold to customers.
But they were still good. Believe me.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
*At this point I'd like to smugly point out that WebMD says that food which is frozen is "safe indefinitely," which I tried to explain to a roommate recently when he wanted me to toss three perfectly good boxes of veggie burgers.
** The trick is to show up at Haymarket just as things are shutting down. When I've timed it right, I was able to buy bags and bags of fruits for a mere fraction of the price they fetched all day.
This past week I decided to clean out the contents of the refrigerator. As I tossed aside forgotten leftovers and a half rotten bag of spinach, I came across the OJ, tucked in the very back of the fridge next to a tin of maple syrup.
The stamp on the carton read Nov 29 10. Curious, I shook the carton and then opened it up. I poured myself a glass and took a whiff. Orangey. The juice was the color of its parent fruit, without any sign of mold or rot. I drank three glasses of it as I finished the rest of my work. The next day, because I saw no problem with it, I finished the rest of the carton.
My little experiment's results didn't surprise me. I tend to be lax with expiration dates. Unlike the well meaning friend who once tried to dash the pills out of my hand once she saw the Tylenol had expired, I think of the tiny numbers as more of a suggestion than a rule.
This attitude was definitely something I learned as a child. In his copy of "Dad's Own Cookbook", my father found a chart of how long food can last when properly stored. He made a photocopy of it and it hung on our refrigerator as a guideline. The book, which I now have in my own kitchen, has this to say about hot dogs for example:
- opened package: one week
- unopened package: two weeks
- in a freezer and wrapped: 1-2 months
WebMD offers similarly practical advice in this feature article, as well as a guide to interpreting the difference between things like "sell by," and "best if used by" labels.*
On my lunch break at work while trying to get updates about the weather I stumbled on an article on Boston.com's home page about exactly this issue.
The article raised an interesting point - regardless of whether individuals choose to take a risks on an "expired" product or not, is it ethical (or legal) for schools or prisons to use foods which are past their dates.
Ah, So. The rub. I don't mind eating yogurt that's a week past its due date after I spot check it. What's more, after looking at it and smelling it, if I saw nothing wrong with it I would even give it to my own mother! But the question remains: would I want it dispensed sight unseen in a school? In a hospital? In a prison?
There is so much food wasted in this country every single day. In college I waited tables in the dining room of an Assisted Living Home for a while. At the end of the shift, I watched as entire pots of soup, plates of steak, steamed veggies were thrown into the dumpster. I begged the chef to let me take the wasted food at the end of the day to a local Soup Kitchen. "I'll do it myself," I said. "I'll come in on my nights off to pick it up as well." I imagined recruiting friends. We'd truck it over in backseats of our cars each night before the kitchen closed.
He smiled sadly at my idealism and then dismissed it. "We can't," he said. "The food wasn't kept on warmers. It can begin growing bacteria as it cools. As a chef, I simply couldn't allow people to eat that food. If they got sick..." He trailed off leaving me to my disappointment. It was one of my first lessons in the complexity of Hunger as one of those Big World Issues. Some people have more food than they need. Others have none. But sharing might be dangerous, so throw all the pot roast away.
So what about food BEFORE it is cooked? Do we have to throw that away too? Based on the voluntary dates that have been chosen arbitrarily in some cases and conservatively in almost all cases? what about milk in sealed bottles? Meat in its plastic sheath packing? What about canned goods, frozen foods, and rice in closed boxes?
Personally, I am not scandalized by the idea that prisons, schools, or even hospitals use food past the labeled "date," as long as the decisions to use the foods remain informed. Kitchen staff should have a knowledge of basic food safety and access to guidelines about the life expectancy of properly stored foods. They should be empowered by their direct supervisors to question stock based on what it looks like or smells like when they open it. The way anyone would do when cooking for themselves or a family member.
Also in college, under the tutelage of some Freegan friends I learned to harvest foods from dumpsters just after the local super market tossed away the day's produce. To this day, I don't see this as being much different from my Farmers Market strategy.** One of my favorite things to do then was to stake out the Dunkin Donuts on Rt 9 near Spirit Haus.They didn't put trash in with their donuts. Just bagged up the donuts and tossed them away at 11pm. Sometimes they would just hand them off, all bagged up like that. The donuts had reached their "expiration time," and could no longer be sold to customers.
But they were still good. Believe me.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
*At this point I'd like to smugly point out that WebMD says that food which is frozen is "safe indefinitely," which I tried to explain to a roommate recently when he wanted me to toss three perfectly good boxes of veggie burgers.
** The trick is to show up at Haymarket just as things are shutting down. When I've timed it right, I was able to buy bags and bags of fruits for a mere fraction of the price they fetched all day.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Rennovations
Mom: But they do have problems. At the beginning of the movie he wouldn't help her pick out the new tile.
Me: That's not a big deal. If he doesn't care she should just pick it out. No one cares about tile. I don't want to marry someone who cares about tile.
Brian: There is a ninety percent chance that the guy you end up with is going to care a LOT about tile.
Me: Just watch the movie.
Me: That's not a big deal. If he doesn't care she should just pick it out. No one cares about tile. I don't want to marry someone who cares about tile.
Brian: There is a ninety percent chance that the guy you end up with is going to care a LOT about tile.
Me: Just watch the movie.
Monday, December 27, 2010
Blizzards of Blaverly Blace
Supervisor: "Thanks for coming in and helping."
Me: "I'm going to build a snowman with the patients before I go, ok?"
Supervisor: "Sure, have fun."
Me: "Don't worry, I'm not going to put it on my time sheet."
Supervisor: "Oh no, you should. Mark it down as 'bereavement.'"
Me: "I'm going to build a snowman with the patients before I go, ok?"
Supervisor: "Sure, have fun."
Me: "Don't worry, I'm not going to put it on my time sheet."
Supervisor: "Oh no, you should. Mark it down as 'bereavement.'"
Friday, September 10, 2010
Where is MischMash?
Honestly, everyone, the real reason I haven't been updating is because this game of Assassins just got so intense for the past week that I have been too busy to write.
How am I supposed to write when I need to be hiding in the backseat of old cars in the North End wearing a Boy George wig?
Last night in an epic show of brute strength my assassin assassinated me, in front of a crowd of seriously useless bystanders.
Some of my friends thanked my assassin because now they can go places with me this weekend without me acting delusional - pointing my water gun at bushes when exiting or entering a building, wearing disguises, obsessively checking over my shoulder at all time et cetera et cetera.
The minute I locked eyes with my assassin was one of the strangest moments of my life. And I do realize I am still talking about a made up game here. Still, for a week straight I had been imagining this person everywhere, and then THERE THEY WERE. I was expecting the moment to come, and it did and it felt like the moment when you're in a nightmare and you realize you're in the nightmare and you know what comes next and you can't stop it. I slapped this person after I got sprayed, that's how shocked I was.
Anyway. Back to my real grown up life now. Have I mentioned yet that I am the wound care nurse at work now? Just while our real wound care nurse is on leave. But still. Wound Care. It's one of my favorite things to do, and I get to dedicate eight hours of my time to it every Tuesday.
Time to put away my water gun and pick up my 35 cc syringe with 18 g needle attached.*
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
* I'm a better aim with the syringe anyway. Wound care jokes!
How am I supposed to write when I need to be hiding in the backseat of old cars in the North End wearing a Boy George wig?
Last night in an epic show of brute strength my assassin assassinated me, in front of a crowd of seriously useless bystanders.
Some of my friends thanked my assassin because now they can go places with me this weekend without me acting delusional - pointing my water gun at bushes when exiting or entering a building, wearing disguises, obsessively checking over my shoulder at all time et cetera et cetera.
The minute I locked eyes with my assassin was one of the strangest moments of my life. And I do realize I am still talking about a made up game here. Still, for a week straight I had been imagining this person everywhere, and then THERE THEY WERE. I was expecting the moment to come, and it did and it felt like the moment when you're in a nightmare and you realize you're in the nightmare and you know what comes next and you can't stop it. I slapped this person after I got sprayed, that's how shocked I was.
Anyway. Back to my real grown up life now. Have I mentioned yet that I am the wound care nurse at work now? Just while our real wound care nurse is on leave. But still. Wound Care. It's one of my favorite things to do, and I get to dedicate eight hours of my time to it every Tuesday.
Time to put away my water gun and pick up my 35 cc syringe with 18 g needle attached.*
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
* I'm a better aim with the syringe anyway. Wound care jokes!
Friday, September 3, 2010
Append: Assassins
The gun I took from the Bucket of Fun had a hole in it and leaked everywhere when I brought it home and filled it up.
After stomping around my damp kitchen, I sucked it up and I drove to Family Dollar outside of Inman Square. I forked over a dollar for three new guns. (And bought some TP on the cheap while I was at it).
Two out of the three new pistols had obvious leaks. I filled up the remaining gun, which I cleverly nicknamed "The Good One," and left it overnight on a table in the living room.
In the morning I shoved The Good One in my "nice" purse. It wasn't expensive and it isn't fancy to look at, but it qualifies as my "nice purse" because every other bag I carry is either a tote bag, or made of hemp, or has fake blood stains on it.
I tucked The Good One in with my wallet, cell phone and keys, feeling like a real dangerous woman. A woman on the edge. A woman ready for action. I was headed to the Watertown RMV to renew my license, a plan I was 100% sure no one else could know about, but in case I was being followed I pretended to get lost*.
After 30 minutes of sitting at the RMV I checked my phone. It was wet. My wallet was wet. My ipod was wet. The inside of my nice purse was wet. The gun... was still full.
I took the gun out of my purse to examine it, ignoring the stares from my bench-mates. I held the gun this way and that. I shook it, alarming the studious man to my right. I rubbed it across my palm from several angles. Streaks of water appeared. The gun has a tiny fault in the seam on the handle. A real slow leak when held the wrong way.
I tried to reposition the gun in my purse. It fell over. I tried to put it in a separate pocket, but that just got my lighter and all my change wet.
Guys, I really might lose this game.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
* By this I obviously mean I got lost on the way to the Arsenal Mall which is INCREDIBLE and I wish I were pretending.
After stomping around my damp kitchen, I sucked it up and I drove to Family Dollar outside of Inman Square. I forked over a dollar for three new guns. (And bought some TP on the cheap while I was at it).
Two out of the three new pistols had obvious leaks. I filled up the remaining gun, which I cleverly nicknamed "The Good One," and left it overnight on a table in the living room.
In the morning I shoved The Good One in my "nice" purse. It wasn't expensive and it isn't fancy to look at, but it qualifies as my "nice purse" because every other bag I carry is either a tote bag, or made of hemp, or has fake blood stains on it.
I tucked The Good One in with my wallet, cell phone and keys, feeling like a real dangerous woman. A woman on the edge. A woman ready for action. I was headed to the Watertown RMV to renew my license, a plan I was 100% sure no one else could know about, but in case I was being followed I pretended to get lost*.
After 30 minutes of sitting at the RMV I checked my phone. It was wet. My wallet was wet. My ipod was wet. The inside of my nice purse was wet. The gun... was still full.
I took the gun out of my purse to examine it, ignoring the stares from my bench-mates. I held the gun this way and that. I shook it, alarming the studious man to my right. I rubbed it across my palm from several angles. Streaks of water appeared. The gun has a tiny fault in the seam on the handle. A real slow leak when held the wrong way.
I tried to reposition the gun in my purse. It fell over. I tried to put it in a separate pocket, but that just got my lighter and all my change wet.
Guys, I really might lose this game.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
* By this I obviously mean I got lost on the way to the Arsenal Mall which is INCREDIBLE and I wish I were pretending.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Assassins
I did some last minute shopping today for a game of Assassins
I want to take a minute and admit that a game involving stalking and being stalked doesn't seem like my "type of thing."
"I don't know," said Jeremy backstage the other day, "it just seems like not your type of thing."
Whether or not it has been, it is now.
Today I was searching for a few last things to complete my arsenal. The item I needed was unavailable at any of the other stores I went to this week, and so on the way home from work today I stopped into the huge CVS a block away from Pizza Stop. I poured over the shelves, frustrated by the surplus of foam and bubble guns and lack of water shooters.
Finally I saw my only option - a bucket of summer themed toys. "15 pieces!" The cardboard insert boasted. "$20 value for only $9.99!"
I carried the bucket around with me as I shopped for other things. I put it back twice. I didn't really want to pay so much for one little piece of equipment. I also didn't want to carry a giant orange bucket of toys home on the bus. I looked at the clock and groaned. Without access to email I had no idea if the game had started. Someone could already be waiting for me at a bus stop or street corner. I needed to finish assembling my offensive and defensive plan. I needed to buy the stupid bucket.
I dumped my mouthwash and hairspray on the counter with the bucket. Two teen aged girls entered the store with a toddler and began comparing candy. Then I grinned.
"Hey. I'm going to buy this bucket of toys. I just want the water gun. Do you think he'd want the rest?" I pointed at the toddler.
They stared at me. I tried to see myself through their eyes, a tiny white lady wearing scrub pants rolled up to the knees and a tank top with a stethoscope hanging out of her shoulder bag, gesturing with a big orange bucket, grinning like an idiot to convey good intentions.
"Uh, sure," the older girl said, shrugging at the younger. They resumed their candy consultation.
I paid for the goods, unwrapped the bucket, removed my prize and turned around. The girls looked confused.
"I literally only wanted this," I said, showing them. The rest is yours."
"Oh!," the younger girl said, understanding for the first time. "Thanks so much!" The two girls bent down and offered first pick of the toys to the toddler.
I pocketed my new hand pistol and caught the bus, jogging.
I want to take a minute and admit that a game involving stalking and being stalked doesn't seem like my "type of thing."
"I don't know," said Jeremy backstage the other day, "it just seems like not your type of thing."
Whether or not it has been, it is now.
Today I was searching for a few last things to complete my arsenal. The item I needed was unavailable at any of the other stores I went to this week, and so on the way home from work today I stopped into the huge CVS a block away from Pizza Stop. I poured over the shelves, frustrated by the surplus of foam and bubble guns and lack of water shooters.
Finally I saw my only option - a bucket of summer themed toys. "15 pieces!" The cardboard insert boasted. "$20 value for only $9.99!"
I carried the bucket around with me as I shopped for other things. I put it back twice. I didn't really want to pay so much for one little piece of equipment. I also didn't want to carry a giant orange bucket of toys home on the bus. I looked at the clock and groaned. Without access to email I had no idea if the game had started. Someone could already be waiting for me at a bus stop or street corner. I needed to finish assembling my offensive and defensive plan. I needed to buy the stupid bucket.
I dumped my mouthwash and hairspray on the counter with the bucket. Two teen aged girls entered the store with a toddler and began comparing candy. Then I grinned.
"Hey. I'm going to buy this bucket of toys. I just want the water gun. Do you think he'd want the rest?" I pointed at the toddler.
They stared at me. I tried to see myself through their eyes, a tiny white lady wearing scrub pants rolled up to the knees and a tank top with a stethoscope hanging out of her shoulder bag, gesturing with a big orange bucket, grinning like an idiot to convey good intentions.
"Uh, sure," the older girl said, shrugging at the younger. They resumed their candy consultation.
I paid for the goods, unwrapped the bucket, removed my prize and turned around. The girls looked confused.
"I literally only wanted this," I said, showing them. The rest is yours."
"Oh!," the younger girl said, understanding for the first time. "Thanks so much!" The two girls bent down and offered first pick of the toys to the toddler.
I pocketed my new hand pistol and caught the bus, jogging.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Havin a Summah Playlist
Recently, local comedian Kevin Harrington told me I needed to watch this clip on Funny or Die because of the Jaws reference in it. Now he frequently asks me if I've bought my summah gum.
Well, I don't have summer gum. Why? Because I hate gum.
I know it's summer because my go-to ipod playlist changes. *
I recently added Mirando a las Muchachas by Mexican Institute of Sound, I Am Not a Robot by Marina and The Diamonds, and He Lives in You, from The Lion King London cast recording.
Like everyone else, I find new favorites every season that will forever and ever remind me of what I was doing this summer, who I was doing it with, and where we all were.
But some songs will ALWAYS be on the playlist, no matter what else changes.
Well, I don't have summer gum. Why? Because I hate gum.
I know it's summer because my go-to ipod playlist changes. *
I recently added Mirando a las Muchachas by Mexican Institute of Sound, I Am Not a Robot by Marina and The Diamonds, and He Lives in You, from The Lion King London cast recording.
Like everyone else, I find new favorites every season that will forever and ever remind me of what I was doing this summer, who I was doing it with, and where we all were.
But some songs will ALWAYS be on the playlist, no matter what else changes.
My Summer Playlist Standards
Lazy Bones, Soul Coughing
Lido, Boz Scraggs
Into the Mystic, Van Morrison
Corazone Espinado, Carlos Santana
Could You Be Loved, Bob Marley
Suzanne, Leonard Cohen
Real Love, Mike Doughty
Don't Go (Giving Your Love Away) , Sonia Dada
Hush, Afroman
Treetop Flyer, Stephen Stills
Jungle Drum, Emiliana Torrini
Surf's Up, Brian Wilson
Everybody I Love You, CSN&Y
BONUS: Summer Night Playlists should include the following:
Milky Way Tonight, Crosby and Nash
Summer in the City, Regina Spektor
Any recommendations for a must-adds this summer?
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lazy Bones, Soul Coughing
Lido, Boz Scraggs
Into the Mystic, Van Morrison
Corazone Espinado, Carlos Santana
Could You Be Loved, Bob Marley
Suzanne, Leonard Cohen
Real Love, Mike Doughty
Don't Go (Giving Your Love Away) , Sonia Dada
Hush, Afroman
Treetop Flyer, Stephen Stills
Jungle Drum, Emiliana Torrini
Surf's Up, Brian Wilson
Everybody I Love You, CSN&Y
BONUS: Summer Night Playlists should include the following:
Milky Way Tonight, Crosby and Nash
Summer in the City, Regina Spektor
Any recommendations for a must-adds this summer?
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
* And because I switch to my summer lip gloss, duh. (Blistex Fruit Smoothies (variety pack) spf 15 $2.99 at CVS)
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Happy Father's Day from Improv Asylum
Fathers Day from Improv Asylum on Vimeo.
Writer /Director: Evan Kaufman
Director of Production, Editor, Composer: Chris Loughran
Produced by Improv Asylum
Featuring: Kirstin Opstad, Evan Kaufman, Matt Catanzano, Kiley Fitzgerald, Dan Faneuf, Misch Whitaker and Richie Moriarty
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Pain Scale
This morning Nurse Sassy Lionheart introduced our unit to a new pain scale.
Depending on what your job it, it's work safe but not very relevant.
But if you work somewhere that it's relevant, it's probably not appropriate.
#10 is my favorite.
Depending on what your job it, it's work safe but not very relevant.
But if you work somewhere that it's relevant, it's probably not appropriate.
#10 is my favorite.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
save some water for the fishies*
It's officially the end of "Water Week," in Cambridge. No, really.
Ok. So, first, some background. On Saturday, May 1st a huge water pipe in Weston, Massachusetts sprung a leak. The Mass Water Resource Authority was able to supply water for toilets and showers to towns east of Weston by using a back up supply of mostly pond water. This switch in water quality was the cause of a water ban and boil water order for Boston and surrounding towns.
The ban was in effect until midway through the day on Tuesday, May 4th.
I worked on Saturday, Sunday and Tuesday in Boston so I was affected too. However, I was able to avoid boiling any of my own water at home because within the last year I moved to Cambridge, which has its own water supply.
But not only was Cambridge not affected by the water ban across the river, we were actually celebrating how awesome the water here is.
That's right, May 2nd- May 8th was Water Week here in the People's Republic.
Activities included educational modules for school children about the "wonders of water," and a tour of the Water Purification Plant where we get our delicious, clean tap water from.**
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
* The title of this post is brought to you by Things My Sixth Grade Teacher Used to Say in a Weirdly High Pitched Sing-song Voice While We Were Trying to Use the Bubblers at School.
** I'm only bragging because the ban in Boston has been lifted. Otherwise this would just be mean spirited.
Ok. So, first, some background. On Saturday, May 1st a huge water pipe in Weston, Massachusetts sprung a leak. The Mass Water Resource Authority was able to supply water for toilets and showers to towns east of Weston by using a back up supply of mostly pond water. This switch in water quality was the cause of a water ban and boil water order for Boston and surrounding towns.
The ban was in effect until midway through the day on Tuesday, May 4th.
I worked on Saturday, Sunday and Tuesday in Boston so I was affected too. However, I was able to avoid boiling any of my own water at home because within the last year I moved to Cambridge, which has its own water supply.
But not only was Cambridge not affected by the water ban across the river, we were actually celebrating how awesome the water here is.
That's right, May 2nd- May 8th was Water Week here in the People's Republic.
Activities included educational modules for school children about the "wonders of water," and a tour of the Water Purification Plant where we get our delicious, clean tap water from.**
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
* The title of this post is brought to you by Things My Sixth Grade Teacher Used to Say in a Weirdly High Pitched Sing-song Voice While We Were Trying to Use the Bubblers at School.
** I'm only bragging because the ban in Boston has been lifted. Otherwise this would just be mean spirited.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Playing the Game
Overheard between nurses...
#1: I haven't talked to him in two weeks. When we talked I was like "I'm going to Haiti," so I don't know.
#2 : Yeah, girl. That's good. Only, don't tell him why you're going. Leave him guessing. You know, let him get jealous.
#1: Isn't it kind of obvious why I'd be going?
#2: Well yeah to us, but let him wonder if you're just going down there to meet up, have a rendezvous...
#1: In Haiti? Now?
#2: Those Doctors without Borders are nice guys!
#1: I haven't talked to him in two weeks. When we talked I was like "I'm going to Haiti," so I don't know.
#2 : Yeah, girl. That's good. Only, don't tell him why you're going. Leave him guessing. You know, let him get jealous.
#1: Isn't it kind of obvious why I'd be going?
#2: Well yeah to us, but let him wonder if you're just going down there to meet up, have a rendezvous...
#1: In Haiti? Now?
#2: Those Doctors without Borders are nice guys!
Monday, December 21, 2009
i believe in everything, nothing is sacred; i believe in nothing, everything is sacred
Forgive me. I meant to write about Advent tonight while my stew simmered away. But like the Magi showing up unexpectedly at Bethlehem, my dear old college roommate found her way to my doorstep. She arrived just in time to help me wash the mushrooms and share the wine. So allow me to cheat this post with a story I wrote a while ago to explain our relationship.
I decided the water was taking up too much room on the floor. Being a Social Thought and Political Economy student, (mainly enrolled in creative writing courses) I had some free time. I began to tie string around the bottles and hang them from anywhere I could get them to stay. The top of the windows, the posts of our bunk beds, attached to wire hangers and suspended from the ceiling...
Jen looked up from her Organic Chemistry book to ask for an explanation.
"It's like we have water-trees," I said, brushing my electric pink hair out of my face. "We can just reach up and pluck them down."
She was silent. Then, to my surprise my sensible, pre-med roommate put down the heavy text and began helping me string the bottles up.
Once we got all the bottles hung we went back to our homework. Jen began inventing a vaccine to prevent HIV transmission, while I wrote a poem about a bird I saw once.
It was not long before a bottle fell, BONK, narrowly missing Jen's head.
"Misch," Jen took her glasses off, "this is not going to work."
I had a different reaction to the crash. "Jen, this is great! It's like the Clock People in this book I'm reading."
"MichELLE. What on earth are you talking about?"
I was talking about a fictional pile of trash in a fictional underground tunnel. The Clock People in Tom Robbin's novel Even Cowgirls Get the Blues tend to this giant trash pile that functions as their clock. When something falls off the trash pile, that's the clock striking. There is no set interval to the striking of this clock. It can go days without a sound, or toll several times in one hour. The noise reminds them that the time is NOW. There is no past or future. 1 o'clock; 2 o'clock ... means nothing. Just NOW.
I explained this to Jen. She looked like she was sorry she asked. She went back to her work.
BONKCRASH. A bottle fell onto the dresser between our work areas, upsetting some spare change.
"The time is NOW!" I yelled gleefully. Jen began to laugh. "The time IS now," she answered.
We picked up the water that had fallen and re attached it to the walls. As we were doing so Jen's boyfriend knocked on the door.
"What are you two doing?"
Jen smiled widely, "fixing our water-clock!" Mike looked extremely unhappy.
But I was very happy. And guess which one of us she spends her time with now?
Monday, December 14, 2009
Improv Boston Fun Raiser
Are you looking for something to do tonight?How about the Improv Boston 2009 Holiday Fun Raiser?
It's fancy, tax deductible, and may be your only chance to see all of these people in one room at the same time!
With performances from the IB Alumni troupe, local comedians like Harry Gordon, Shane Mauss, Myq Kaplan and MC Mr. Napkins...
as well as the legendary Jonathan Katz, Tony V, Faith Soloway and The Office's Kate Flannery.
You can get more info on the IB website.
DATE: MONDAY, DECEMBER 14th
LOCATION:
The Estate Nightclub
1 Boylston Place, Boston (by the Boston Common)
PARTY TIME: 6 - 7:30 PM
SHOWTIME: 7:30 - 10 PM
(includes drinks and light menu)
At the door tickets are $25 with a student ID, subject to availability.
TICKETS in ADVANCE:Show Only: 7:30 PM - 9:30 PM - $50 ($35 tax deductible): Buy Tickets
Show plus Pre-Party Food, Beer, and Wine: $125.00 ($85.00 tax deductible) - Buy Tickets
This is a 21+ Event.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Don't tell the mermaids where I'm going...
Yesterday's post was a bit heavy, even for me. Let's all enjoy my day off together by watching this.
Fun fact: The last two years of college I lived in a three family house. I used to drum this on the wall of my bathroom and my friend in the adjacent apartment would drum it back on his bathroom wall. Adorable.
And... great video.
Fun fact: The last two years of college I lived in a three family house. I used to drum this on the wall of my bathroom and my friend in the adjacent apartment would drum it back on his bathroom wall. Adorable.
And... great video.
Monday, November 9, 2009
jump start my heart, you.
Friday had been an unintentional marathon of an evening starting with two shows at Improv Asylum followed by drinks at The Field with the cast of Crime Solving Bear 2, breakfast at 2am at IHOP and finally a viewing* of Wet, Hot American Summer for the breakfast survivors at chez moi at around 4am.
I only tell you this because you'd think that Saturday I would have slept all day.
Instead, Saturday morning I woke up restless.
The kind of restless I haven't felt in years, for reasons I will dwell on in a future post.
I tried to watch an episode of Mad Men (I'm still in Season One), and found myself unable to concentrate. I found out my plans in Boston for the night were being deferred to another evening and I only grew more itchy. I alternately cleaned the kitchen and bathroom. I considered and rejected complicated dinner options. I surfed tracks on The Scarlet Pimpernel soundtrack until I'm sure my roommates wanted to hand me over to be guillotined. I switched to The Last Five Years.
Outside the sky was blue, and the tree outside my window, with all its reds and oranges reminded me of Amherst. The first time I listened to The Last Five Years was in Amherst. My trip to Amherst was scheduled for the morning. Man, do I miss Amherst, I thought.
I decided to throw some clothes into a bag for the morning.
Then it was all over.
Once the clothes were in the bag my mind was made up. I began throwing things into the backseat of the car. I felt like a version of myself I hadn't quite noticed gone missing.**
Within fifteen minutes I was in the car belting the words to "I Can Do Better Than That," and cruising in a zen like state*** towards the middle of the state back to a town I've had a love/hate relationship with for years.
The first thing I did at Amy's house was accidentally almost electrocute myself in an incident involving an electric socket in their low set ceiling, and a giant sword. The second thing I did was debate at length about what it would have looked like, and if it would have been appropriate to carve into a gravestone.
The restlessness had dissipated on the road and was replaced with an overwhelming sense of coming home.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
* We all promptly fell asleep, so it was more like a "putting on for background noise."
**Which is a good thing since most of my life demands a lot more discipline than I used to have.
*** only more driving appropriate
I only tell you this because you'd think that Saturday I would have slept all day.
Instead, Saturday morning I woke up restless.
The kind of restless I haven't felt in years, for reasons I will dwell on in a future post.
I tried to watch an episode of Mad Men (I'm still in Season One), and found myself unable to concentrate. I found out my plans in Boston for the night were being deferred to another evening and I only grew more itchy. I alternately cleaned the kitchen and bathroom. I considered and rejected complicated dinner options. I surfed tracks on The Scarlet Pimpernel soundtrack until I'm sure my roommates wanted to hand me over to be guillotined. I switched to The Last Five Years.
Outside the sky was blue, and the tree outside my window, with all its reds and oranges reminded me of Amherst. The first time I listened to The Last Five Years was in Amherst. My trip to Amherst was scheduled for the morning. Man, do I miss Amherst, I thought.
I decided to throw some clothes into a bag for the morning.
Then it was all over.
Once the clothes were in the bag my mind was made up. I began throwing things into the backseat of the car. I felt like a version of myself I hadn't quite noticed gone missing.**
Within fifteen minutes I was in the car belting the words to "I Can Do Better Than That," and cruising in a zen like state*** towards the middle of the state back to a town I've had a love/hate relationship with for years.
The first thing I did at Amy's house was accidentally almost electrocute myself in an incident involving an electric socket in their low set ceiling, and a giant sword. The second thing I did was debate at length about what it would have looked like, and if it would have been appropriate to carve into a gravestone.
The restlessness had dissipated on the road and was replaced with an overwhelming sense of coming home.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
* We all promptly fell asleep, so it was more like a "putting on for background noise."
**Which is a good thing since most of my life demands a lot more discipline than I used to have.
*** only more driving appropriate
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