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Boston 2009!
I'm back from Boston. Did anyone miss me?
Before I go into the highs and lows of my trip, a tale of preparation for it. I knew it would be chilly in New England and I only owned one pair of jeans. They were great jeans, though, fit me perfectly. Men's Levi's, of course (I can't buy women's clothes. I have no idea what my size is in lady numbers). Tery remembered they had come from Walmart. I hate Walmart, but for a pair of jeans that fit this well, I would ignore the moral quandary.
I went to Walmart and picked up a pair identical to the ones I had plus a few other things. Easy peasy, right? Well. If it were this wouldn't be much of a story, would it? The old pair were a 36. The new pair was marked 36, but NO WAY could they be. I could barely get them past my thighs. I was understandably confused and upset. I did not slave away in a hot gym for six months just to go UP a size, no sir. But I didn't really have time to challenge the labeling practices of Walmart/Levi Corp. I exchanged them for a size 38 (all the while expressing my displeasure to the hapless return counter girl. She agreed it might be a conspiracy to allow them to charge slightly more for the "plus" sizes as they do. She also confessed to me she would never buy a CD from her own employer, due to their censorship policy. "If I buy a Korn CD, I want to hear it the way the artist intended!" Okay, you lost me, lady).
Sure enough, the "38" fit the same way the old 36 did. Just when you thought Walmart couldn't get any more evil. I anticipate more confusion and a false sense of accomplishment when I go to buy another pair in a few years somewhere else and am suddenly a size smaller. This also meant I had no idea what size to look for when I went to the belt section.
So, my trip. New (to me) airline policy: they now charge $15 per checked bag in each direction (actually $20, but I bought my ticket before the cost went up). As if people needed more incentive to try to pass 70-pound body bags off as "carry-ons." Penalize those of us who try to make the excruciating process of boarding a little easier and provide job security to your baggage handlers, why don't you. It just isn't right. Make sure your carry-on fits either under the seat or in the overhead? Hell, my carry-on fits in the seat pocket (no exaggeration), that's how low maintenance I am. Between my phone, iPod and a paperback I've got ample entertainment for most flights. I spent the whole week loading my phone with movies, games and fanfics and then slept half the trip anyway. I can't help feeling a bit self-righteous as I wait for everyone else to maneuver their Volkswagen-sized luggage down the aisle.
Whatev. The flights there and back were fairly uneventful, thankfully. Another travel first, both coming and going my bag was like the third one on the carousel. THAT was worth $30.
New England. I haven't been back in quite awhile. Hence it was easy for me to forget how freaking damp and dreary it can be. The trees I thought I missed so badly living in Denver effectively blocked all the sun from reaching my sister's house and made it 10 degrees cooler than the sidewalk at the end of her driveway, a plus during a hot summer, she assures me. I forgot that in New England wet items never really dry properly when left to their own devices. I took a shower Friday morning, drove to Connecticut to catch up with friends and Tery's family, and my towel was still moist Sunday morning on my return. No exaggeration.
We didn't do much during my trip, which was the plan. Amy and I both prefer a good stack of DVDs to gallivanting about spending money, her even moreso now that she has a 6-week-old baby to contend with. She had submitted a list of requests to bring. She had season one of "Psych" which I had never seen, despite being advertised heavily during "Monk."
Unfortunately she doesn't have Tivo (they barely have a TV -- it's a 13 incher clear across the room, the size of a postage stamp compared to our LCD Aquos. Guess having a baby takes precedence over more important things) and they can't live without their nightly fix of "Two and a Half Men" (which I enjoyed) and "Family Guy" (not so much). She announced at my arrival that they intended to make me a fan; needless to say being forced to stop everything every single night to watch it, no exception, had quite the opposite effect. And because they were both exhausted from pulling the typical all-nighters of new parents, 9 pm pretty much marked the end of the festivities (possibly 10 on a really good night).
Jane Frances was a good baby most of the time. Occasionally fussy, but never unbearably or protractedly so. I'll admit to a small amount of guilt when I heard her in the middle of the night and I was free to roll over and put the pillow over my head, but this is one of the many, many reasons I don't want a child of my own. I'm far, far too selfish. But Amy and Rob the dad (Robdaddy?), they're naturals. Kind of weird though, how a little baby, so helpless, has so much power -- you'll do whatever it takes to keep her from crying. And, at the risk of sounding incredibly sappy, when she smiles you feel like you're seeing the face of God.
Another thing I dislike about New England is the way everyone is in such a big damn hurry. Traffic-wise of course, but god help you if you set foot in a Dunkin Donuts without knowing EXACTLY what you want first. I of course was looking for my beloved Bavarian creme (which, come to find out, they haven't sold in years), and lacking a backup plan I took a second to look around and the guy behind us in line started loudly and frantically snapping his fingers to communicate his displeasure. "You have to understand, people like you really piss everyone else off," Amy informed me. I do understand, but I'm not going to order the first thing that catches my eye just to get out of their way. It's not like there aren't four other shops in this one-block radius alone.
It was when I tried one last time at the airport, ordering a glazed and a Boston creme, only to receive a glazed and a JELLY, that I decided DD was truly dead to me. It's donuts, not brain surgery people. Honeydew Donuts carries Bavarian creme, pastries the size of your paw, but we don't have those in Colorado either. Guess it makes it easier to avoid temptation.
And the poor water pressure -- my sister's shower creates a misty wafting breeze that keeps the curtain plastered to your legs the whole time. Tery's folks don't even have a spray, more a trickle. It took about an hour to get all the shampoo out.
Also forgot about driving in New England, which is a delight while on vacation but not so fun when you actually need to get somewhere. Not just the traffic but the refusal of our pioneer predecessors to create trails (from which the roads were created) that involve a single straight line between point A and point B. Anywhere.
I had planned to rent a car to drive to Connecticut. Amy just bought a brand new car that she was reluctant to offer me, and I was just as reluctant to drive. Stressful enough not knowing for sure where I'm going and being surrounded by impatient motorists who know exactly where they're going doing the equivalent of snapping their fingers frantically all around me.
Both Amy and Tery asked me repeatedly if I should maybe check into making a reservation before my trip. I poo-poohed them, knowing next to nothing about renting a car. I forgot it was a holiday weekend when evidently everyone in Boston rents a car and leaves. Come Friday morning everywhere I looked online seemed to be sold out. The brand-name sites were infuriating -- rather than just searching for existing options for me to pick, they required I enter specific date and time ranges, only to come back repeatedly with vague stock error messages that were about as helpful as saying, "Wrong. Guess again." Then I tried some third-party sites that cheerfully promised success, except I couldn't see what they were offering without giving my credit card info first. This raised my hackles -- what cars were they seeing that the big guys weren't?
As a last resort I included Logan Airport in my search results (had been avoiding it because Amy warned me they were always more expensive). Came up with one result that would cost almost $300 for two days. Wow, more expensive you're not kidding. It seemed like it might be easier just to buy a new car and then return it the following day, like a cocktail dress. At this Amy insisted I take her car, to my immense relief. I offered to take them out to dinner, money no object, upon my return. The best they could come up with was chicken pot pie from Harrows, delicious to be sure, but not quite as extravagant as I had intended. I still owe her big time.
I made it to Connecticut where I spent most of my time with Tery's family. Mrs. D. toiled over a roast pork all afternoon for a big dinner. When it was pulled from the oven I immediately noticed it smelled a bit...pungent. I was way too polite to say anything. Mike the son-in-law showed up and his first comment was about a "strong smell." To my surprise when I returned from the bathroom Mr. D. asked my opinion about the meat. I confessed I thought it might smell suspicious. We had Madi, the hyperactive 9-year-old, taste test for us (she did so happily if it meant being the center of attention) and she reported it tasted "wrong." The meat was (thankfully) scrapped and we ordered a pizza. Poor Mrs. D., but I didn't fancy the idea of flying home in a couple of days with a severe case of food poisoning (Madi lived, fear not). Mr. D. admitted the meat had been in the freezer for an extended length of time (Tery says his most famous quote is "There's nothing wrong with it" when the kids grew up turning their noses up at meals). Later Mike said he could smell it from outside, knew it was bad meat, and was really sweating it; he's still a little nervous around Mr. D. and will do anything to stay in his good graces, even if it meant spending the night on the toilet.
Bitch, bitch, moan, moan. Anyone reading up to this point would think I had a perfectly dreadful time. Not true! Despite doing "nothing" with Rob and Amy, the days were filled with laughter -- particularly while playing the board game Sinking of the Titanic (blurb in summary actually reads "From that terrible tragedy comes this fascinating family game!") (the point of the game is to collect passengers, food and water for your lifeboat once you escape the ship. At one point I had so many of each (and Amy and Rob almost none) that the joke was my lifeboat had a 3-piece band, a carving station and chafing dishes for the buffet. I haven't laughed that hard in years. Turns out it isn't nearly as entertaining when you have to work for those things, as I did in subsequent games). Most fun was the last night of my stay, when Robdaddy achieved a trifecta win of that, Trivial Pursuit:Family Edition and Scrabble.
I had a very nice, if far too brief, visit with Tery's family and my two closest friends from school, Lisa and Harold. I got to visit my alma mater high school, which was a bit surreal considering how many nightmares I've had of needing to get to class and having no idea where it was, as well as a quick drive-by of my other alma mater college. And of course it was nice to be away from work for a week.
As with all my trips, my favorite part was coming home to lovely, sunny, dry, laidback Colorado. I missed my Kitten Mitten something terrible (and Tery a bit too), and got all of a 30-second silent treatment before she remembered me. See inside for some photos from my week!
It was demanded by everyone that I hold the baby, so I got this arduous chore out of the way early
My favorite look on her
Local Breakheart Reservation. I would move back to New England if I could live here
: )
You can see Amy and I fighting to hide our bitterness at losing so many games. I have a couple more pics, but this one gives you an idea of how unkind New England is to my hair
This decrepit old caboose has been sitting here since I first met Tery in 1991. It sits there still
I kind of prefer this unintentional result shot inside the car
Riding Tery's brother's quad with Mrs. D. (she's not really on it)
Sister Me-Shel preferred the Harley
TWO satellite dishes front and center on the lawn, supposedly the only way to get a signal. Reportedly Mike came in and asked, "Did CNN move in?"
Madi before the ambulance ride (oh, I'm kidding)
BFF Harold. He's not actually shorter than me. Not bad for a cellphone pic
Before I go into the highs and lows of my trip, a tale of preparation for it. I knew it would be chilly in New England and I only owned one pair of jeans. They were great jeans, though, fit me perfectly. Men's Levi's, of course (I can't buy women's clothes. I have no idea what my size is in lady numbers). Tery remembered they had come from Walmart. I hate Walmart, but for a pair of jeans that fit this well, I would ignore the moral quandary.
I went to Walmart and picked up a pair identical to the ones I had plus a few other things. Easy peasy, right? Well. If it were this wouldn't be much of a story, would it? The old pair were a 36. The new pair was marked 36, but NO WAY could they be. I could barely get them past my thighs. I was understandably confused and upset. I did not slave away in a hot gym for six months just to go UP a size, no sir. But I didn't really have time to challenge the labeling practices of Walmart/Levi Corp. I exchanged them for a size 38 (all the while expressing my displeasure to the hapless return counter girl. She agreed it might be a conspiracy to allow them to charge slightly more for the "plus" sizes as they do. She also confessed to me she would never buy a CD from her own employer, due to their censorship policy. "If I buy a Korn CD, I want to hear it the way the artist intended!" Okay, you lost me, lady).
Sure enough, the "38" fit the same way the old 36 did. Just when you thought Walmart couldn't get any more evil. I anticipate more confusion and a false sense of accomplishment when I go to buy another pair in a few years somewhere else and am suddenly a size smaller. This also meant I had no idea what size to look for when I went to the belt section.
So, my trip. New (to me) airline policy: they now charge $15 per checked bag in each direction (actually $20, but I bought my ticket before the cost went up). As if people needed more incentive to try to pass 70-pound body bags off as "carry-ons." Penalize those of us who try to make the excruciating process of boarding a little easier and provide job security to your baggage handlers, why don't you. It just isn't right. Make sure your carry-on fits either under the seat or in the overhead? Hell, my carry-on fits in the seat pocket (no exaggeration), that's how low maintenance I am. Between my phone, iPod and a paperback I've got ample entertainment for most flights. I spent the whole week loading my phone with movies, games and fanfics and then slept half the trip anyway. I can't help feeling a bit self-righteous as I wait for everyone else to maneuver their Volkswagen-sized luggage down the aisle.
Whatev. The flights there and back were fairly uneventful, thankfully. Another travel first, both coming and going my bag was like the third one on the carousel. THAT was worth $30.
New England. I haven't been back in quite awhile. Hence it was easy for me to forget how freaking damp and dreary it can be. The trees I thought I missed so badly living in Denver effectively blocked all the sun from reaching my sister's house and made it 10 degrees cooler than the sidewalk at the end of her driveway, a plus during a hot summer, she assures me. I forgot that in New England wet items never really dry properly when left to their own devices. I took a shower Friday morning, drove to Connecticut to catch up with friends and Tery's family, and my towel was still moist Sunday morning on my return. No exaggeration.
We didn't do much during my trip, which was the plan. Amy and I both prefer a good stack of DVDs to gallivanting about spending money, her even moreso now that she has a 6-week-old baby to contend with. She had submitted a list of requests to bring. She had season one of "Psych" which I had never seen, despite being advertised heavily during "Monk."
Unfortunately she doesn't have Tivo (they barely have a TV -- it's a 13 incher clear across the room, the size of a postage stamp compared to our LCD Aquos. Guess having a baby takes precedence over more important things) and they can't live without their nightly fix of "Two and a Half Men" (which I enjoyed) and "Family Guy" (not so much). She announced at my arrival that they intended to make me a fan; needless to say being forced to stop everything every single night to watch it, no exception, had quite the opposite effect. And because they were both exhausted from pulling the typical all-nighters of new parents, 9 pm pretty much marked the end of the festivities (possibly 10 on a really good night).
Jane Frances was a good baby most of the time. Occasionally fussy, but never unbearably or protractedly so. I'll admit to a small amount of guilt when I heard her in the middle of the night and I was free to roll over and put the pillow over my head, but this is one of the many, many reasons I don't want a child of my own. I'm far, far too selfish. But Amy and Rob the dad (Robdaddy?), they're naturals. Kind of weird though, how a little baby, so helpless, has so much power -- you'll do whatever it takes to keep her from crying. And, at the risk of sounding incredibly sappy, when she smiles you feel like you're seeing the face of God.
Another thing I dislike about New England is the way everyone is in such a big damn hurry. Traffic-wise of course, but god help you if you set foot in a Dunkin Donuts without knowing EXACTLY what you want first. I of course was looking for my beloved Bavarian creme (which, come to find out, they haven't sold in years), and lacking a backup plan I took a second to look around and the guy behind us in line started loudly and frantically snapping his fingers to communicate his displeasure. "You have to understand, people like you really piss everyone else off," Amy informed me. I do understand, but I'm not going to order the first thing that catches my eye just to get out of their way. It's not like there aren't four other shops in this one-block radius alone.
It was when I tried one last time at the airport, ordering a glazed and a Boston creme, only to receive a glazed and a JELLY, that I decided DD was truly dead to me. It's donuts, not brain surgery people. Honeydew Donuts carries Bavarian creme, pastries the size of your paw, but we don't have those in Colorado either. Guess it makes it easier to avoid temptation.
And the poor water pressure -- my sister's shower creates a misty wafting breeze that keeps the curtain plastered to your legs the whole time. Tery's folks don't even have a spray, more a trickle. It took about an hour to get all the shampoo out.
Also forgot about driving in New England, which is a delight while on vacation but not so fun when you actually need to get somewhere. Not just the traffic but the refusal of our pioneer predecessors to create trails (from which the roads were created) that involve a single straight line between point A and point B. Anywhere.
I had planned to rent a car to drive to Connecticut. Amy just bought a brand new car that she was reluctant to offer me, and I was just as reluctant to drive. Stressful enough not knowing for sure where I'm going and being surrounded by impatient motorists who know exactly where they're going doing the equivalent of snapping their fingers frantically all around me.
Both Amy and Tery asked me repeatedly if I should maybe check into making a reservation before my trip. I poo-poohed them, knowing next to nothing about renting a car. I forgot it was a holiday weekend when evidently everyone in Boston rents a car and leaves. Come Friday morning everywhere I looked online seemed to be sold out. The brand-name sites were infuriating -- rather than just searching for existing options for me to pick, they required I enter specific date and time ranges, only to come back repeatedly with vague stock error messages that were about as helpful as saying, "Wrong. Guess again." Then I tried some third-party sites that cheerfully promised success, except I couldn't see what they were offering without giving my credit card info first. This raised my hackles -- what cars were they seeing that the big guys weren't?
As a last resort I included Logan Airport in my search results (had been avoiding it because Amy warned me they were always more expensive). Came up with one result that would cost almost $300 for two days. Wow, more expensive you're not kidding. It seemed like it might be easier just to buy a new car and then return it the following day, like a cocktail dress. At this Amy insisted I take her car, to my immense relief. I offered to take them out to dinner, money no object, upon my return. The best they could come up with was chicken pot pie from Harrows, delicious to be sure, but not quite as extravagant as I had intended. I still owe her big time.
I made it to Connecticut where I spent most of my time with Tery's family. Mrs. D. toiled over a roast pork all afternoon for a big dinner. When it was pulled from the oven I immediately noticed it smelled a bit...pungent. I was way too polite to say anything. Mike the son-in-law showed up and his first comment was about a "strong smell." To my surprise when I returned from the bathroom Mr. D. asked my opinion about the meat. I confessed I thought it might smell suspicious. We had Madi, the hyperactive 9-year-old, taste test for us (she did so happily if it meant being the center of attention) and she reported it tasted "wrong." The meat was (thankfully) scrapped and we ordered a pizza. Poor Mrs. D., but I didn't fancy the idea of flying home in a couple of days with a severe case of food poisoning (Madi lived, fear not). Mr. D. admitted the meat had been in the freezer for an extended length of time (Tery says his most famous quote is "There's nothing wrong with it" when the kids grew up turning their noses up at meals). Later Mike said he could smell it from outside, knew it was bad meat, and was really sweating it; he's still a little nervous around Mr. D. and will do anything to stay in his good graces, even if it meant spending the night on the toilet.
Bitch, bitch, moan, moan. Anyone reading up to this point would think I had a perfectly dreadful time. Not true! Despite doing "nothing" with Rob and Amy, the days were filled with laughter -- particularly while playing the board game Sinking of the Titanic (blurb in summary actually reads "From that terrible tragedy comes this fascinating family game!") (the point of the game is to collect passengers, food and water for your lifeboat once you escape the ship. At one point I had so many of each (and Amy and Rob almost none) that the joke was my lifeboat had a 3-piece band, a carving station and chafing dishes for the buffet. I haven't laughed that hard in years. Turns out it isn't nearly as entertaining when you have to work for those things, as I did in subsequent games). Most fun was the last night of my stay, when Robdaddy achieved a trifecta win of that, Trivial Pursuit:Family Edition and Scrabble.
I had a very nice, if far too brief, visit with Tery's family and my two closest friends from school, Lisa and Harold. I got to visit my alma mater high school, which was a bit surreal considering how many nightmares I've had of needing to get to class and having no idea where it was, as well as a quick drive-by of my other alma mater college. And of course it was nice to be away from work for a week.
As with all my trips, my favorite part was coming home to lovely, sunny, dry, laidback Colorado. I missed my Kitten Mitten something terrible (and Tery a bit too), and got all of a 30-second silent treatment before she remembered me. See inside for some photos from my week!
It was demanded by everyone that I hold the baby, so I got this arduous chore out of the way early
My favorite look on her
Local Breakheart Reservation. I would move back to New England if I could live here
: )
You can see Amy and I fighting to hide our bitterness at losing so many games. I have a couple more pics, but this one gives you an idea of how unkind New England is to my hair
This decrepit old caboose has been sitting here since I first met Tery in 1991. It sits there still
I kind of prefer this unintentional result shot inside the car
Riding Tery's brother's quad with Mrs. D. (she's not really on it)
Sister Me-Shel preferred the Harley
TWO satellite dishes front and center on the lawn, supposedly the only way to get a signal. Reportedly Mike came in and asked, "Did CNN move in?"
Madi before the ambulance ride (oh, I'm kidding)
BFF Harold. He's not actually shorter than me. Not bad for a cellphone pic
no subject
You know, I've always thought of New England being reasonably similiar to Michigan. However, I've worked in four donut shops and never had anyone get that impatient while a customer made their choice. Sheesh!
(I was a donut lady all through high school and my freshman year of college)
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It's probably the same as when you go into McDonald's and people study the menu for hours as if they'd never set foot in one before. Most people just dash in for a coffee. They probably don't realize what a rare experience DD is for me. Still, there's no need to be rude.
(Donut lady! I remember, you gave me the education on how easy it actually is to make a Bavarian creme donut : )
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Sounds like a nice trip! Sometimes spending time with the right people is the best kind of vacation.
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Nice pictures :) you're looking very well... despite the hair, hehe.
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Thanks...and thanks : )
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Almost all of them are good songs anyway, so what am I saying! (Only one I don't especially like is "So They Say".)
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Thanks :D I agree about "So They Say." I think my favorite is "Brand New Day," followed very closely by "My Eyes." Joss and Neil (and Nathan) are brilliant.
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NPH is the brilliance. I also love him in HIMYM.
Yes, I missed you.
I'm glad you had a nice visit. Sounds like you didn't get to watch any Xena? WTF? (jk) And it's really very sweet that it only took Tery 30 seconds to remember you... oh wait, you meant Kitten Mitten. ;)
Well I'm glad SOMEONE did
I know. For never leaving the house we made surprisingly little progress on the DVD front (well, completed season one of "Pushing Daisies" and 90% of season one of "Psych." Only four eps of "Flight of the Conchords," which surprised me since that was the show they were both really excited about. "Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist" and "Down With Love," and that's about it). The problem was getting everyone sitting down in adequate time before fucking "Two and a Half Men" and "Family Guy."
Zero cold shoulder, which you probably know is unusual for a cat. I adore her so.
Donuts
And Amy looks sooooo very different from when I saw her last! Where's the blonde hair? Huh, guess we all have to grow up, right? ;)
As to the jeans, Levis produce so many styles nowadays that you can't go on size alone. A 36 'baggy' fit, will be very different to a 36 'boot cut' fit. I have no idea what these words mean, of course, but if I find a pair of jeans that fit, I go back and buy another couple of pairs so that I don't have to do this sort of thing a year later.
Re: Donuts
She said her hair changed color during pregnancy with all the hormones. I suspect she's finally had enough after a lifetime of blond jokes.
If I were going off label alone, the two pairs should have also been the same style (they were strange. Most Levi's number their style. These were marked only "Signature"). Still, you would hope that whatever the style a waist measurement should be fairly universally consistent. It's not like inches (or whatever they're called in metric) are open to individual interpretation.
no subject
She also confessed to me she would never buy a CD from her own employer, due to their censorship policy. It's the fact that they don't mark the CDs as being censored that gets me. Also, why do you still have to be an adult to purchase these censored CDs that are still marked "parental advisory"?
Why are people always trying to force you to watch Family Guy? :) Did you actually watch any Psych?
I love that your first instinct was to have the child taste the rotten meat. ("Here, Madi, does this taste like almonds to you?")
Aww, J.F. is adorable. And you look like you're seeing the face of God when you're holding her, not at all scared or annoyed.
Wow, New England is exactly like Michigan. Let's check all those states off the list of places I'll ever live.
Love the icon. Guess that qualifies as an update
That's probably the most infuriating thing about Walmart. I'm an adult, I should be able to buy something with offensive lyrics if I damn well want to. Of course, then they would have to "protect the children" by locking up the bad CDs with the crystal meth ingredient drugs in the pharmacy and they'd be even more of a pain in the ass to buy.
I don't know why people are always forcing me. In fairness, I did laugh at one or two jokes, but certainly not to any degree where I would be considered a fan. We got through most of season one of Psych and I took the last disc home to finish. I like it. Those guys are funny (not "Monk" funny but funnier than FG).
Oh, she loved the excuse to be the center of attention. I did her a favor! (though I'll grant that I was relieved it didn't result in a need for medical attention)
I got two confirmed smiles out of her, and they felt like little miracles. Okay, now the sap is more than I can bear.
People froth at the mouth in your donut shops too? Or are you just speaking weather/traffic wise?
TWO UPDATES IN ONE DAY?
Maybe they'll just do away with the drug counter altogether when they find out sometimes kids get their hands on those drugs, too. Did I ever tell you that once Walmart refused to sell me a Zippo lighter because (they said) their company policy is not to sell lighters to anyone under 21? Cigarettes, of course, are still available to anyone over 18.
We're getting through to you! One or two more marathons and you'll have been totally brainwashed into loving Family Guy. I knew you'd like Psych. The dialogue is very cute.
(though I'll grant that I was relieved it didn't result in a need for medical attention) Even if it had, that little bit of guilt would've been worth it when you put it next to the sure knowledge that you were right and you escaped food poisoning, yourself.
Confirmed meaning no background jerk made a comment like "She's not smiling at you, it's probably just gas"?
People froth at the mouth in your donut shops too? No, but it might be because all of our DDs are combined with Baskin Robbins, so there are always 2-4 lines to choose from. I meant weather/traffic wise (though maybe ours is more erratic. Last week we were wearing winter coats and gloves, this week people are in shorts again) and scenery wise. Your New England pics look like any pic of Up North in Michigan. Do people come up that way to watch the leaves change, too?
Re: TWO UPDATES IN ONE DAY?
During the day I wear boxers and wifebeaters. I'm not going to sit at the computer sweating in jeans all day! I might throw on a pair of shorts if I'm expecting a UPS delivery. Where on earth do you keep all those jeans? You must have a separate storage unit.
It doesn't make any sense not selling things like lighters to kids when everything is readily available online anyway. Nothing stops you from buying matches, right? Complete illogic, creating the illusion that things are safer this way. And removing responsibility from the parents.
No, never!
True, true. One case of salmonella poisoning was enough to last a lifetime, believe me.
Funny you should say that. I was the jerk attributing it to gas. My sister was polite enough to assure me that it was genuine.
Actually that was the reason there were no rental cars. Everyone drives up to Vermont (as if Massachusetts isn't leafy enough). The weather is crazy like that here in Colorado too. Snowed like crazy while I was gone, 70 degrees when I got back, snow again this week.