It's Friday, and I'm pretty sure I've never been more excited about it. It's been a fun, but long, weekend. I have a trio of cousins in town from San Diego whom Kerrigan and I haven't seen in years and Nichole has never met. They got in late Wednesday night, and we've been up late the past couple of nights just catching up and shooting the shit. It's great seeing family, especially when it's been so long in between visits. What hasn't been good is the minimal amount of sleep I've gotten, my ass is tired! That's alright, I'll sleep it all off later.
Christmas came early on Yawkey Way in Boston this year. Theo and company were able to make the trade that has been rumored for a couple of years now, bringing lefty slugger Adrian Gonzalez across the country to play first base for years to come in Boston, and then signed speedy left fielder Carl Crawford, who has owned the Red Sox over the years. If we can sign or trade for an arm or two in the bullpen, Beckett and Lackey pitch to their potential and we stay relatively injury free, we have to be considered one of the teams to beat. This must be where that bridge Theo was talking about last year was bringing us, it all makes sense now.
We had our annual road association meeting last night, and boys oh boys was that fun! It was a pot luck gathering, where we discussed the upcoming plowing season and any other issues people may have. Why is this important to you? It's not, it was boring as shit. However, towards the end of the meeting, the association president brought up the installation of the CMP Smart Meters. She went on a long schpeel about how they are dangerous for us and if we are uncomfortable with them then we should contact Central Maine Power and tell them not to install it. Also, they install them while wearing haz-mat suits, so they have to be bad, why else would they wear them, right? My guess is that the person she saw, or more likely, was told about wearing the haz-mat suit was probably wearing a rain suit to stay dry. I have this sinking sensation that these are no more dangerous than our cell phones that are always up to our ears or even our microwaves that we are warming up food and drinks in. Let's just say that I'm not going to start wearing a tin foil hat around the house any time soon.
One of my favorite lunch time haunts is closing today, and I'm sad to see it go. Mousse Cafe and Bakeshop in Monument Square, right next to Longfellow Books has been a regular spot for Nichole and I for a while now. They do a killer breakfast and have some great paninis and sandwiches. What sold me was their sweet treat selection. The peanut butter bars are amazing! In fact, I'll be right back, I'm going to get one right now...
Alright, I'm back. Quick walk up the hill to grab a treat, and I come back with a story, I love it. As I'm walking back down toward Commercial Street, where my office is located, I round the corner by Arabica Coffee and I'm about 8-10 paces behind and older gentleman. All of a sudden I hear this ripping sound, as if he just pushed a giant fart out. Then another. And another. So on and so on for another 5 or 6 farts, a total of 8. He just kept on walking, not worrying about a thing in the world. All this while I'm walking behind him, trying not to burst out laughing, as well as trying not to choke on the distinct smell of old man fart!
I promised my daughter we could decorate a giant gingerbread man this year. We have done gingerbread houses in the past, but last year I swore that I would never do another house again. The sections of roof were supposed to securely fasten to the house with some frosting, that was supplied by the fine makers of the product. However, they didn't work, not even a little. I ended up going through an entire tube of super glue, and all that really did was stick my damn fingers to the house and plate we were using. I have never been so frustrated putting something so simple together. After something like 2 hours and, I'm sure, a few curse words, Kerrigan and I decided that we would never do that again. This year she gets to decorate the gingerbread man while I watch, that I can handle. I'm just saying...
About Me
- Mark
- I've always wondered if people actually read this stuff. I never do when I'm on other pages. Well, in case, for some strange reason, you find it necessary, I'll give you a little knowledge. I was born in The County. For those of you who don't konw better, that would be Aroostook County. For those of you who do, your jokes won't work on me, they are lame. I'm the son of an investment banker that squandered his every penny on tuna fish sandwiches in the late 80's, and my mother was the lead singer for the Bangles. Neither of those is true, but again, I'm convinced nobody is reading this anyways. I met my wife at a carnival, and we were married by the bearded lady in front of the entire clown brigade. I have a daughter who is training for the 2012 Olympics where she will compete in the Triple Jump and Javelin. We live in a nice little shanty in the woods and are hoping to one day have running water. Any questions?
