Long Commute

Today was the first warm day of the year, meaning it cracked eighty. But it was also rather muggy, which is the thing about Boston summers that really bother me. Well, I don't like the temperature either, but the humidity really is terrible.

Anyway, the humidity wasn't the only weather we had today, there was also the little matter of the thunder storm. It snuck up on me during a telecon and when the thunder came down it really startled me. Anyway, a minute or two after the big lightning strike, I started hearing sirens. So evidently the lightning found something that didn't agree with it.

I put all that out of my mind, and a couple hours later I was ready to go home. The subway platform was especially full, I'd even say unusually full, and that is never a good sign. As I made my way down the length of the platform, I was again worried about the number of people. I got to the far end of the platform and there was an annoucement about fire department presense at one of the stations which was causing delays.

I'd heard disabled trains causing delays, I'd heard about medical emergencies causing delays, but this was the first time I'd heard about a fire department delay. Anyway, a few minutes later a train did finally arrive, and it was even on my side of the tracks. The problem was it was a train going the wrong direction. I hope for the best and got on the train, but they announced that they were holding the train because of problems at one of the stations. They also said they would be sending buses to make up for the service gap.

So I decided to find an alternate way of getting home. But the only game plan I could come up with was walking about a mile to the #1 bus, taking it across the river, walking a bit further and taking another bus. I walked Mass Ave where the #1 bus is known to run, and waited. I waited a little longer, and eventually the bus did arrive. Two buses right in a row in fact. The problem was they first bus only let on four people, and the second bus didn't stop at all.

I decided just to walk across the bridge, since it was only another mile. Except it started raining again. Oh, and then halfway across the bridge another #1 bus went by. It looked pretty full, so I might not have gotten on it anyway. But the important thing, at least for the story, is I was wet, and the bus left me behind.

I stopped to have dinner between where the bus would have let me off and where I could pick up the other bus. By that time it had stopped raining, of course. But, I didn't really mind that much that it was raining. It was kind of nice, actually.

From there on my commute was quite straight-forward, not more glitches. Although coming home, still being rather damp, I realized all I wanted was a shower. It's kind of ironic really. I don't know if I needed to be fully wet so that I could then feel dry or what. Just one of those quirky things I suppose.

Weather moods

I've always been a bit different than the average person when it came to my feelings for weather. I much prefer cold weather to heat, and avoid getting too much sunshine. I burn easily, and am slightly photophobic as a optometrist once told me.

But I think one of the oddest things is that "foul" weather seems to put me in a good mood. I know I seem to sleep better when a front moves through. It might be that it is darker outside so the early sun doesn't intrude on my sleep, although it could also be the drop in pressure. Going outside in the wing and rain also seems to put me in a good mood.

I don't know... Maybe it's the challenge that appeals to me. Fighting the wind seems to invigorate me. There also seems to be more air and cleaner air. It is also cooler and there are less bugs. As for the rain, I appreciate the cleaner air more than I mind being slightly damp. Sure a lot of consecutive rainy days starts getting annoying, but it's really not so bad.

Been a while

I haven't written anything in a while, not so much because I have nothing to write, but because I just haven't gotten around to it.



So the biggest personal news was that I grew a beard, it got to itchy (but I stuck it out for more than a month) and shaved it off. It was an interesting experience, and I got a lot of positive feedback. Actually it was strange, things just seemed different. Oh, and I got carded all the time! It was quite ridiculous really.



Anyway, when I shaved it off I tried a couple of different looks, just for fun. The first one is just the beard. The next one was the beard without the moustache or soulpatch. It isn't quite clear in these pictures, but the moustache and soul patch were blondish (not really blonde, but the color of a blonde guy's beard). I also have to say the moustache was one of the most annoying, but intriguing parts of the experiment. It annoyed my upper lip considerably but I found myself fondling it. So then I went for the muttonchops. The final photo was an experiment and I call it my evil genius look. The perspective makes my shiny dome look enormous and quite sinister.










In other news this past weekend was the 6294 celebration at my fraternity. Today is actually Founder's day for Theta Xi, April 29 1864. In this case it's also the 123rd anniversary of my chapter being founded (1885). We started off with a BBQ, even though it's always a bit too cold to want to BBQ.

Then the alumni showed the active chapter how to play softball. Although we could have used a bigger turnout, I think we all had fun. We also had to improvise on a field because there were so many other games going on. We actually ended up using a baseball diamond with home plate at 3rd base, and home plate taking the place of first base. That was due to a football game going on in really really shallow left field. There was also much hijinks with swapping balls, since only one of the balls we brought was regulation and the other two were softer practice balls which couldn't clear the infield.

After the game everyone went home and cleaned up to get ready for the Corporation meeting and then dinner at the house. There was a quick trip to the wine store between the two where a bunch of us pooled our bottles to get the case discount on wine. The discount allowed us to get a couple of bottles of port for after dinner.

Although before we got to bust out the port there was a rivering to perform. Greg went and got married before he was properly doused, so we had to throw him in in front of his lovely wife. Of course, Greg didn't make it easy on us and decided to struggle the entire way. He was struggling to save face and not because he really didn't want to get thrown in the river. Anyway, if I was sore from the softball game, I was doubly sore from helping carry him all that way.

I kind of wonder what the random people on the street thought. A group of roughly fifteen people, including a few women, all dressed up (we left the jackets at the house but were still wearing ties, collared shirts, etc) carrying a struggling man down the street, across a foot-bridge, along the esplanade and eventually to the pier where we threw him in.

Ahhh... Good times.

Sesame Street Turns 21

A fellow I work with belongs to an alumni group that went to a different bar every other week. The catch was that each new bar had to start with the next letter of the alphabet. So they might go to Avalon this week, then in two weeks to Boston Beer Works, then two weeks later to Cambridge Brewing Company, etc.

Anyway, another guy I work with really liked the idea, except on an accelerated pace, i.e. a bar every week. I was talking to him about the 12 drinking days of Christmas, and we came up with a hybrid idea. So every week we'd go to a new bar that is selected based on the letter of the alphabet criteria. From the 12 drinking days we take the concept of the scribe. The scribe's responsibility is to record the attendance of the event, makes notes of notable quotes/comments/actions, and most importantly the scribe gets to pick the next bar in the cycle. Who gets to be scribe? Well, from the 12 drinking days the scribe is the first person to ask, "Who's the scribe?" But since this is such a fledgeling operation, it is more whoever volunteers. If the designated bar is getting boring, or people just want a bit of excitement, a Field Trip can be called, whereupon everyone leaves and heads to the newly designated bar. After having a drink there, the party can return, or not.

St. Patrick's Day

Now that I'm living in South Boston, I should be more in tune to all things Irish, especially St. Patty's day. But no, I missed it. In my defense, I was sick all week. I had enough trouble keeping track of the day of the week, let alone a holiday I don't particularly celebrate.

So when I decided to go to a movie, I was a bit surprised by the parade preparations going on. I live half a block off Broadway, which is the main drag leading through South Boston. The parade starts two blocks from me at the T stop. So I walked past the vendors setting up their booths, the TV crews setting up their platforms and cameras, and the barricades. I tried to remember when exactly St. Patty's day was, because I was sure it didn't actually fall on a Sunday. But parades are good for Sundays, so....

Anyway, by the time I was done with my movie and heading back, the T was packed with people. Fortunately, most of them didn't know which end of the subway the Broadway T stop's exit resided on. So I walked past the crowds waiting on the platform and made my way all the way to the end. I didn't have to wait long before a mostly empty train arrived. At least the back end of the train was mostly empty. Empty enough for me to get a seat. The front of the train I knew was experiencing much pushing and shoving.

The next stop filled up my car, and it took forever to get the train moving at each stop. I think they were trying to stick strictly to the schedule. Anyway, eventually the train emptied for my stop and I got off. But the entrance to the T that I usually use is on the wrong side of the parade route. I only learned that the other way around was to use the other entrance, once I got to the top of the stairs. So I walked a couple of blocks over to avoid the parade route and made it home. Although I hope the parade ends at a reasonable time, since I need to do grocery shopping and the stores are on the wrong side of the parade route.

Anyway, by the time I got home I was convinced that I remembered that St. Patrick's day was March 17th. So I thought, tomorrow is the day. Nope. Well, I was right about the traditional day, but because of when Easter falls this year, Monday the 17th is a Holy Day, so the Catholics moved St. Patrick's day to the 15th. So I totally missed it.

Edit: I'm hearing now that it's only kind of moved, so maybe I didn't miss it afterall. Those Catholics are such crazy kids.

Another dream blog

The beginning of the dream is already a little vague. I remember running along the roof of this square building, the kind with a square courtyard inside. I was trying to get somewhere else but can't remember what I was trying to do. Off to one side of the building was a jungle and a short distance away was another building. In another direction was the ocean, the last two directions lead off to the city.

I remember we were at the bottom of a hill and that the rain was causing the streets leading to the building to be flooded. There was a party on the top floor of the building and it was some sort of mansion, with lots of drinking and shenanigans. There were even stuffed animals in the room. So at some point I realize the building is one fire. Rather than panicking everyone only gets more racuous in their partying.

I try to call 911 but it ends up being something like 6911 which is WWE Diva 911 where hot wrestling women answer the phone instead of professional emergency operators. After I tell them my hotel is on fire, I hang up and check out the situation. Checking the street level there is a monsoon outside. The cars driving on the ocean side of the building are in several feet of water with waves crashing over the tops of the cars. The drivers inside don't seem panicked at all, and seem oblivious to the surfers who are going by them.

I go back upstairs and the party is still going on, even though the fire just got to my fireworks supply. I remember that it was $200K or $250K in fireworks. Again no one is panicking, they are just excited. Some people leave the room and go into the hall. I decide that the 6911 call wasn't working and call 911 and say it was a significant fire, they question me on it being significant and I insist it is. I then decide to go down to the street to wait for them. I have a lot of trouble hearing the operator because of the noise of the party.

In the hall the people who left are having sex. Mostly it is random couplings of three or four people. Then I see one person I know having sex with his wife (he is very moral and at first I'm shocked, but since it's his wife I think it's alright). I'm invited by one of the threesomes (which contains my wife/girlfriend) to join, but say I have to go wait for the firefighters.

I go downstairs and see the flooded streets and I'm afraid the firetrucks coming down the hill won't be able to make it through. So I start running toward the road leaving down the hill, through the city. It is all these abandoned factories and warehouses that I recognize from other dreams. I'm quickly lost, and while running across on street I hear the trucks. I turn back and there is an ambulance far out ahead of the trucks.

I flag the ambulance down indicating it should follow me and start running back towards the burning building. I make it to a fenced off lot, the kind of fence that is corrugated metal so you can't see through it. Even though the sky is dark because of night and the rain, it is apparent there is a large fire burning on the other side of the lot because of the brightness.

I point out the large glow to the firefighter and he asks me if I were the one who reported the fire. I say I was, and he asks if I said it was a significant fire, and I say it was. He takes another look at the glowing sky, punctuated by a few more fireworks, and says that it's twice that. The ambulance driver meanwhile grabs me and pulls me into the lot, which is some sort of junk yard.

She immediately lifts up my shirt and starts applying electrical leads slathered in some sort of goo to my chest. I protest that I feel fine, and she doesn't believe me. As she is checking me out she is brushing into me more than is necessary. I again insist I'm fine, even my lungs feel clear I say, breathing deeply. But she insists, and says I probably haven't peed since it all began. I tell her I have and she is shocked. I tell her I have to again, and she is really amazed. She says that most people are so scared they couldn't piss to save their life.

I say that there wasn't anything to be scared of. The fire was moving slowly, so that it was easy to outrun. I also knew the structure of the building was still fine, so I didn't have to worry about that. As I explained things she got even more excited, and started really pressing against me. She says I must be some kind of miracle person. As she presses against me, I can feel how past her prime she is. She says something like she's a 59 year old woman with pancreatic cancer, and she wants my miracle tongue to lick her slit because it's closer to her pancreas. I have no idea where the pancreas is, only that pancreatic caner is almost inevitably fatal.

Eventually I break free from the extremely affectionate, 59 year old, slightly chubby, very soft, pancreatic cancer having EMT. I stumble away and find other people from the party huddled under blankets in the junk yard. I walk out the gate of the junkyard and find my girlfriend/wife talking to her father. Her father is the one that actually owned the hotel, the industrial buildings on one side, and the mansion in the jungle on the other side. I tell him that I'm sorry I burned his hotel down, but at least the fire didn't get to the mansion. He almost seems amused by it all and insists that it's not my fault.

Anyway, that's about as much of the dream as I can still remember. I'm sure by tomorrow, this blog will be the only record left.

More Rollerderby

Last night I went to the RollerDerby again. It really was a lot of fun, although the seats weren't the most comfortable. Actually, it was more crowded than the last time I went, and parking was a disaster, possibly because the line for tickets stretched into the parking lot blocking the only path for the cars.

Anyway, the match was the Cosmonaughties against the Wicked Pissah's. Apparently the Pissah's were last year's champions, and they proved their credentials by beating the Cosmonaughties. I'm still learning the game, but it didn't seem like the Cosmonaughties were getting all the points they should have. I'm not saying they should have won, because the Pissahs did seem to be the better team, even if they spent a lot of time in the penalty box.

Watching the match for a second time, I began to see the tactics and skills involved in playing the game. The first time it was too hard to separate out the chaos. But this time I really started to understand what was going on. I can hardly wait for next month's match, where the Boston Massacre (all star team pulled from the three teams in the boston league) play against the Bronx Gridlock.

Although, it wasn't all fun and games. Near the end of the third period there was an injury to one of the Pissah's, Evilicious. She slid into the wall and suffered lacerations to her face. Actually, she hit about twenty feet from me, but because of the setup of the seats I couldn't see her until she was being taken off on a gurney. Apparently the gurney was a precaution they take on any injury to the head whether it seemed necessary or not.

Oh, and the weather is smoking crack or something. Driving home last night, it started as a veritable blizzard. In the parking lot I walked around my car wiping the snow off. By the time I got back to the windshield it was completely covered again. When I got home there was nothing, not even a sign that it had been snowing. Then this morning it seemed like it would be a nice enough day. In the forties around noon, and I went out to get lunch. Of course, it was pouring down rain. By the time I got to lunch the sun was shining, and stayed shining all the way home. An hour or so later, it was another blizzard. Snowing blowing every which way, even up! Now, its bright and sunny, with those innocent puffy clouds.