"Let us talk about some trivial things we like..."
So a couple of things, to conquer first:
So I went to Boston last night, which was fun; the old lady and I took a train up to go and just get out of town for the night. It was great.
We started off with the intention of doing something we hadn’t done before, so we went to an Ethiopian food place called Addis Red Sea. Very interesting dining experience considering I have never had Ethiopian food before; they didn’t give us utensils, you get bread and food and you can shovel or manipulate the food into your mouth. It was strange trying to relearn how to do something like eat.
Don’t get me wrong, I eat with my fingers all the time, but not typically spicy dishes that involve a sauce. It is usually more like fried shrimp or calamari. The food itself was good, I would go back but I am going to check out another Ethiopian food place before I rush back to that one.
While we there though we were sitting next to this couple (two men if you have to know) and we both left the place thanking the G-ds that we weren’t single anymore, it has been almost nine and a half years since I was single. Listening to these guys talk was really strange because it seemed like it was a blind date. One of them, we will call this one Reggie (he was sitting on my right), had just gotten out of a relationship that sounded like it was pretty serious, and he talked about it almost all night long: my previous relationship this, my previous relationship that, my ex-boyfriend this, my ex-boyfriend that, it was really off putting and I wasn’t even dining with him. The other guy, we will call Lemy (because he was on my left), just sat there and I wasn’t even completely convinced that he wasn’t a mute. But in his defense Reggie dominated the conversation. The only time I actually heard him speak was when he sheepishly uttered the words, “I am not really a programmer.” A response to the only break in Reggie’s diatribe about his ex, which was, “You are pretty outgoing for a computer programmer.” Here is a quick list of the things I learned about their lives: (Guess who learned the HTML tag for lists?)
After dinner we walked around the Tremont Street area, and I will come right out and say it, I love the feel of Boston. It seems like the kind of city where a person can really live. I have friends who will disagree with me, and their points are well taken, but the area between Back Bay Station and Tremont St. is pretty much everyplace I want to live. The major drawback is that the real estate is insane there. And I don’t mean a little crazy like a girlfriend who wears your underwear like a hat and growls seductively. I mean the kind of girlfriend who at 34 still grooms the hair of her My Little Pony collection—which she still actively collects. At one point we stopped at a real estate office that had listings in the window and some crazy fucker was asking over half a million dollars for a two room apartment. And as much as I think Boston is an adorable city, it isn’t that cute.
We had some time to kill and so we went to Newbury St. up around Trinity Church and Copley Square and we found a great little candy shop called Sugar Heaven. I don’t think that I would have seen it except that they had music playing and it broke the stillness of the street (Newbury St. businesses seem to shut down at 6:30 or something, which for a giant retail strip seems a little early). Nice selection of candy and some really great imports. So naturally I got a really nice sugar high. Naturally.
But before that we passed the Massachussets Institute of Rock and I think I know what my calling is; I am going to become a licensed awesomologist. Surely the MIR can help me on my way to that, with their MA in Awesomology program.
(I think at this point we should break for a test of our emergency sarcasm alert system, this is only a test)
I think the institution of the Hard Rock Café bothers me more than the restaurant itself. I read a funny interview with Andy Partridge, from XTC, and he was telling the story of how HRC asked him for a guitar and he told them to bugger off. If you are like me and don’t have a reason to hate them then go to the website and do a search for cafes and look at the number of places that they have locations that they probably shouldn’t (they have one in Beirut, one in the Northern Mariana Islands and one in Oslo, Norway. Nothing says embrace Capitalism quite like Barracuda blaring over the restaurant speakers while you eat your “Joe Perry’s ‘Rock Your World’ Quesadilla” in Kuala Lumpur. I think I just threw up in my mouth… a lot.
But the whole night ended on a really positive note for me. Actually the cabbie that drove me home was kind of crazy, but I will get to that in a second. When I got back on the train to Providence, there were two little girls that had just been to a Build-a-Bear Workshop and had their new friends in tow. And it was adorable and it made me really appreciate what it was like to be ten and innocent and be able to hug a stuffed animal and not feel like you are on the verge of getting your ass kicked. When I was ten I was a rampant GI Joe collector, I had a first series Snake Eyes (you could tell he was first series because he didn’t have the swivel-arm action, but did still have the kung-fu grip), and I had just bought my first Dungeons & Dragons books. I would play D&D out at the school yard with Chad and Brian and I didn’t really care that Candy and Marsha thought I was stupid (although it was a little hurtful when Jennifer, Allison and Dana gave me dog food and a collar for a Christmas present). And I wish I could have hugged these two little girls and squeezed them tight and told them to hold on to this age forever and never forget that for ten days you loved your new bear, Clover, more than anything else in the world without being arrested and thrown in jail. But such is life.
Then the cabbie drove me home, at sixty miles an hour, down my residential street. At one point I think he screeched to a stop, sideways, in front of a cop. I wanted him to get a ticket so bad.
So today, I am going to head into work, and tackle my project with a renewed vigor that there was a time when I didn’t take everything so seriously.
Vote for Amy.
- I love the fact that there is a scheme to my lovely wife’s blog. Every single post has a title that is taken from a line of one of Shakespeare’s plays. So I am going to shamelessly rip that idea off of her and adopt something similar.
- My very dear friend, Amy Guth has been nominated for a blogger’s choice award and it is pretty important that she win. Not because I have an overriding loyalty to her but because I want to be able to say that I knew where when she was just a pastry chef trying to get a break. So if you are a friend of her’s already make sure that you vote for her, if you haven’t checked out her site or read her book, you are painfully behind the times, get with it, join the twenty-first century. Sheesh.
- It looks like I might be moving soon. Before you start applauding too loudly, I hate moving; with the intensity of a thousand white-hot suns. Moving to me is like Britney Spears first album to my mom. Or like… Any movie that doesn’t star Gregory Peck or John Wayne to my grandfather (more on that later).
So I went to Boston last night, which was fun; the old lady and I took a train up to go and just get out of town for the night. It was great.
We started off with the intention of doing something we hadn’t done before, so we went to an Ethiopian food place called Addis Red Sea. Very interesting dining experience considering I have never had Ethiopian food before; they didn’t give us utensils, you get bread and food and you can shovel or manipulate the food into your mouth. It was strange trying to relearn how to do something like eat.
Don’t get me wrong, I eat with my fingers all the time, but not typically spicy dishes that involve a sauce. It is usually more like fried shrimp or calamari. The food itself was good, I would go back but I am going to check out another Ethiopian food place before I rush back to that one.
While we there though we were sitting next to this couple (two men if you have to know) and we both left the place thanking the G-ds that we weren’t single anymore, it has been almost nine and a half years since I was single. Listening to these guys talk was really strange because it seemed like it was a blind date. One of them, we will call this one Reggie (he was sitting on my right), had just gotten out of a relationship that sounded like it was pretty serious, and he talked about it almost all night long: my previous relationship this, my previous relationship that, my ex-boyfriend this, my ex-boyfriend that, it was really off putting and I wasn’t even dining with him. The other guy, we will call Lemy (because he was on my left), just sat there and I wasn’t even completely convinced that he wasn’t a mute. But in his defense Reggie dominated the conversation. The only time I actually heard him speak was when he sheepishly uttered the words, “I am not really a programmer.” A response to the only break in Reggie’s diatribe about his ex, which was, “You are pretty outgoing for a computer programmer.” Here is a quick list of the things I learned about their lives: (Guess who learned the HTML tag for lists?)
Reggie
- Just, like in the last 6 weeks, got out of a relationship.
- Likes to work out and play volleyball.
- Is in grad school.
- Picked this grad school on the strength of its gay population.
- Really likes his Ex and is really lonely and pining for him
Lemy
- Is pretty outgoing for a computer programmer.
- Isn’t really a programmer.
After dinner we walked around the Tremont Street area, and I will come right out and say it, I love the feel of Boston. It seems like the kind of city where a person can really live. I have friends who will disagree with me, and their points are well taken, but the area between Back Bay Station and Tremont St. is pretty much everyplace I want to live. The major drawback is that the real estate is insane there. And I don’t mean a little crazy like a girlfriend who wears your underwear like a hat and growls seductively. I mean the kind of girlfriend who at 34 still grooms the hair of her My Little Pony collection—which she still actively collects. At one point we stopped at a real estate office that had listings in the window and some crazy fucker was asking over half a million dollars for a two room apartment. And as much as I think Boston is an adorable city, it isn’t that cute.
We had some time to kill and so we went to Newbury St. up around Trinity Church and Copley Square and we found a great little candy shop called Sugar Heaven. I don’t think that I would have seen it except that they had music playing and it broke the stillness of the street (Newbury St. businesses seem to shut down at 6:30 or something, which for a giant retail strip seems a little early). Nice selection of candy and some really great imports. So naturally I got a really nice sugar high. Naturally.
But before that we passed the Massachussets Institute of Rock and I think I know what my calling is; I am going to become a licensed awesomologist. Surely the MIR can help me on my way to that, with their MA in Awesomology program.
(I think at this point we should break for a test of our emergency sarcasm alert system, this is only a test)
I think the institution of the Hard Rock Café bothers me more than the restaurant itself. I read a funny interview with Andy Partridge, from XTC, and he was telling the story of how HRC asked him for a guitar and he told them to bugger off. If you are like me and don’t have a reason to hate them then go to the website and do a search for cafes and look at the number of places that they have locations that they probably shouldn’t (they have one in Beirut, one in the Northern Mariana Islands and one in Oslo, Norway. Nothing says embrace Capitalism quite like Barracuda blaring over the restaurant speakers while you eat your “Joe Perry’s ‘Rock Your World’ Quesadilla” in Kuala Lumpur. I think I just threw up in my mouth… a lot.
But the whole night ended on a really positive note for me. Actually the cabbie that drove me home was kind of crazy, but I will get to that in a second. When I got back on the train to Providence, there were two little girls that had just been to a Build-a-Bear Workshop and had their new friends in tow. And it was adorable and it made me really appreciate what it was like to be ten and innocent and be able to hug a stuffed animal and not feel like you are on the verge of getting your ass kicked. When I was ten I was a rampant GI Joe collector, I had a first series Snake Eyes (you could tell he was first series because he didn’t have the swivel-arm action, but did still have the kung-fu grip), and I had just bought my first Dungeons & Dragons books. I would play D&D out at the school yard with Chad and Brian and I didn’t really care that Candy and Marsha thought I was stupid (although it was a little hurtful when Jennifer, Allison and Dana gave me dog food and a collar for a Christmas present). And I wish I could have hugged these two little girls and squeezed them tight and told them to hold on to this age forever and never forget that for ten days you loved your new bear, Clover, more than anything else in the world without being arrested and thrown in jail. But such is life.
Then the cabbie drove me home, at sixty miles an hour, down my residential street. At one point I think he screeched to a stop, sideways, in front of a cop. I wanted him to get a ticket so bad.
So today, I am going to head into work, and tackle my project with a renewed vigor that there was a time when I didn’t take everything so seriously.
Vote for Amy.
posted by V. at 9:23 AM
1 Comments:
This blog post had everything: I laughed, I cried, I laughed again. For those who, unlike me, were not at dinner next to the blind date, I can corroborate the story that Reggie was, in fact, a nightmare date. We all felt it, Lemy, V, and I.
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