Monthly Archives: December 2009

Today: Back away from the Flowbee.

23 December 2009

9 Comments

*Please excuse the overabundance of Christmas references.  I am in full on elf mode and can’t help myself.  No matter what you believe and celebrate, I am wishing you and yours a very happy and healthy season!

You might be scrambling for thoughtful, although last minute, gifts for kith and kin.  And since On Tap for Today is  the internet’s most reliable source of information (second only, perhaps, to the wikipedia pages I myself have edited), here you are.

Or maybe, you’re completely bored and there are no Golden Girls marathons on today.  Or even more likely, you searched for something important… like, which beers are on tap at your local spot today.  Whoops.  I welcome you, irregardless.

This time of year, the internet is overflowing with gift guides, promising to lead you to the Golden Fleece of presents.  One that will never be re-gifted, but rather treasured for all time.  While the other folks will tell you what to buy, I felt it my duty to advise you of the opposite.

In some particular order, the five presents you must not buy:

  • Manties, Mantyhose, or Manx. For the imaginationally challenged, those are panties, pantyhose and Spanx specially designed for men.  (Please do your own Yahooing, I do not want to be held responsible for providing links for these.) I am all for gender equality, but since when is the right to wear pantyhose something one would actively seek out?  Equal pay?  Hell, yes.  But pantyhose?  Really?  This is one of those gifts you should entrust your friends and loved ones to purchase for themselves.  Enter the gift card.

www.amazon.com

  • Sure, the Mr. Toad Bathroom Butler may be marked down from $169.99 to $74.95 on Amazon…  but there are times when saving 56% is a bad thing.  In this case, it’s a very bad thing.

I'm scared.

  • The Flowbee Vacuum Haircut System promises you’ll “have fun, save money” and that this futuristic vacuum attachment is “safe and easy to use.”  Safe or not, this thing is terrifying.  This photo, which happens to feature Rick Hunts, Flowbee inventor, suggests that my vacuum has the power transform the men in my life into Miami Vice characters.  And maybe the hair that’s sucked off their heads will mistakenly shoot out onto their faces, giving them an awkward mustache.  Is that really worth the $99.99?

But wait… haircut clean up is only a suction away! Nope.  This is still a bad idea.  Don’t buy it.  You might want to visit their site, however.  The picture of the lady Flowbee-ing is priceless.

  • We have high ceilings in our condo, and I often wonder what we will do the day something happens up there.  I am not sure what that something might be… but it would be handy to have some sort of collapsible ladder around.  I’m all for practical gifts.  Things people will use, and even better, might need.  I am not all for practical gifts that might cause bodily harm, like… say… the Telesteps 12 1/2 Aluminum Telescoping Ladder.

If you’re laughing right now, you’re completely sick.  And you just earned membership in my exclusive club.

Please don't bite me. Photo: makli.com

  • And last but not least, the final gift you should not, under any circumstances, go out and buy for a loved one this Christmas: those weird little  hamster toys.  I’m not including them on this list because of GoodGuide‘s warning that they contain higher than allowed levels of the chemical antimony.  Heck, I don’t even know what an antimony is.  I just think these toys are plain old creepy.  Who wants a robotic rodent tooting around their home, underfoot.  And what if your child loved their mock hamster, but an unsuspecting relative tried to play the hero, squashing the wee electronipet and saving your family’s holiday meal from infestation?  Now that would make for a great story.

At the end of the day, there may be no better present than your presence.  Unless you’re a bad person.  Just kidding… you’re perfect. Back away from the last minute “deals” and just show up as your merry self.  After all, we celebrate Christmas* because Baby Jesus arrived… not because He arrived with a Zhu-Zhu pet.

Also On Tap for Today:

  • How cool are these caroling word garlands?
  • Nick and I are celebrating Christmas a bit early, before he and the puppy head north to Nick’s parents’ house
  • Remember those seat and reach tests we had to take in Phys. Ed.?

How are you/have you been celebrating the holidays?  Do you have a favorite tradition to share?  Or a particularly awful special present?

Today: Match the socks.

22 December 2009

11 Comments

Why do socks tend to lose their other halves faster than Paris Hilton?  They go into the laundry hamper together, but rarely do they make it through the spin cycle.

Personally, I’m not crazy about wearing socks.  Even in the winter, I’d prefer to go sockless in my ballet flats and heels.  My sock wearing is limited almost exclusively to working out, or keeping warm in the condo (in which case, I’m most likely wearing Christmas socks, or pink Life is Good socks, covered in peace signs).  Usually, it’s very obvious which socks belong to one another.  Pom poms and “right” and “left” markers are useful for this purpose.

Or sometimes, my socks are permanently attached.  You might call these pantyhose.  Pantyhose or nylons are the unitards of the sock world: Impossible to take apart and equally awful.  Tights are only half as bad.  But still.

Fun fact: Spell check just tried to turn unitards into Unitarians.  Lovely people, but not quite what I was going for.

On the other hand foot, men’s socks are nearly impossible to match and seem to separate at a far faster rate than mine.  They all look alike, until you get really, really close.   Oh, those are Swiss dots.  How nice.  When putting away the laundry last night, I found myself asking such questions as:

  • Why is this black sock  slightly longer than this other one of the same texture and color?
  • What does that gold line on the toe mean?
  • Is this light black or really, really dark brown?
  • Is there even such a color as light black?  If so, is it called gray?
  • You have a purple argyle sock?
  • Any chance you have a second one?

I don't mind these Sox. (Photo: abc.net.au)

The world of men’s socks, I’m finding, is subtle and nuanced.  And annoying.  So annoying that I spend a good part (or 5 minutes) of the evening reading this wikiHow article entitled How to Avoid Losing Socks in the Washing Machine.  Good Heavens!  Centrifugal force has been stealing Nick’s socks! Here are a few tips from the article:

  • Keep ‘em together. Before putting socks in the washing machine, attach pairs together. You can use a lingerie bag, safety pins or even office clamps, you can simply fold the tops together, or the best solution is to use the sock clip.
  • Know where to look. Many socks that go missing are stuck to the inside of the washer. The moisture and centrifugal force holds them there for several minutes. Be sure to check all around the inside of the drum. Other socks will get stuck to sheets and towels in the dryer. So when you fold these items for storage, shake them out and check for any socks which may be clinging.
  • Keep orphaned socks in one place. When you fold laundry, insert any unmatchable socks into one particular drawer in your dresser, or a box on your closet shelf. Once a month, you may have quite a collection. Dump them out and make all the matches. Use socks with no partner for other purposes.

Also On Tap for Today:

How do you keep your socks from breaking up?  And have you ever had your photo taken with a celebrity (I want proof)?

Today: A placeholder post

21 December 2009

10 Comments

…with the promise/threat of a normal regular post as soon.  Not only is Christmas four days away, but we are also in the middle of an audit at work and my brain is a bit overwhelmed.  So while I get my act together, please enjoy this:

No Frenchies were harmed in the making of this photo...

and then judge me for dressing up my dog, and do the same while looking at this:

This is Clark's over-the-shoulder red carpet pose.

And if you haven’t left yet, a few more things to enjoy:

  • Every day from 5-7 PM, Santa answers calls from area children on WROR, one of Boston’s oldies stations.  You can listen live here or on your regular old radio– I promise you won’t be disappointed.  Heartwarming and hilarious at the same time.
  • Speaking of Santa (which I seem to be doing a lot of as of late), The Boston Globe’s Globe Santa has been helping underprivileged children in the area since 1956, collecting donations exceeding $1 million annually from readers and advertisers to ensure each child enjoys a visit from Santa.  If you are still looking for a last minute gift, you might consider making a gift to Globe Santa in honor of a friend or loved one.  You can read about families helped by reading stories such as this one.

I’ll be back with what’s On Tap for Today as soon as I figure out… what’s on tap for today.  In the meantime,  are you enjoying the snow (if you have snow)?  What are your go-to last  minute gifts?

Today: Clark is in a basket.

18 December 2009

6 Comments

And I’m just a basket case.

Yesterday something really cute happened while I was in the shower.  Captured your attention?  Not so fast, creeps.  Clark was being rambunctious, but since I am gainfully employed and need to keep up a certain level of hygiene, I didn’t really have the time to make sure he didn’t get into mischief.  I essentially locked him in the bathroom with me while I showered.  Maybe I’m the creep.

I’m too lazy to delete this post, so we may as well proceed.

At some point, I noticed Clark was being awfully quiet.  He was nowhere to be seen from the shower.  He had crawled up and into the basket of warm, clean towels next to the shower and was sound asleep.  He snoozed just long enough for me to capture a picture on my malfunctioning BlackBerry, which I will post as soon as this thing is working again.

Update: Here he is!  (Excuse the awful picture quality.)

I’ll temper your jealousy of our adorable dog with this:  He peed on the Christmas tree.  Feel better?  Speaking of baskets and Christmas, how many of you asked Santa for this flower makin’ basket in 1987?

www.inthe80s.com

OK.  Back to real life.  Something less cute happened within an hour of showering.  I left the condo without my keys (house/car/office) and there was no one available to let me back into the building.  Nick had left at the same time, so I chased after him, down into the city’s underbelly (more specifically: the T station outside our door), hoping to catch him before he boarded the train.

It was like an action movie, but with better accessories and real Boston accents, not Matt Damon ones.

When he reached the turnstile just steps a head of me, and descended down to the platform, I gave up.  And then I said to myself, “I need his keys…” apparently loudly enough to be overheard by the four Massachusetts State Police officers doing random screenings.    Do the State Police have a motto?  If not, it should probably be something about always having a Charlie Card at the ready.  One officer swiped me through the turnstile and encouraged me to run like the wind.  I reached Nick as he was half in the train, and probably scared the daylights out of him.

When I climbed back up the stairs, out of breath, but with Nick’s keys in hand, I was met with cheers… and a playful request for Dunkin’ Donuts.  I thought about offering my smoothie, but I was really hungry.  Nevertheless, thank you, officers!  Your help today almost made me forget about the moving violation I was issued last week… almost.

Don’t you just love how nice everyone is this time of year?

Also On Tap for Today:

Did a stranger help you out today?

Today: There is a Santa.

15 December 2009

5 Comments

wikipedia

Dear Editor,

I am 8 years old.  Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus.  Papa says, “If you see it in The Sun, it’s so.” Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus?

–Virginia O’Hanlon, 115 W. 95th Street

You probably know how the second paragraph (quick summary of the first paragraph: V.’s little friends are dingbats; full text here) of F.P. Church’s thoughtful and famous response begins: Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.

This exchange holds special meaning for me.   As a three year old, I got in a bit of trouble for telling my pre-school little friends that Santa was fake.  A reasonable person would assume I was speaking specifically of the “Santa’s helper” that came to school for a photo opportunity (he was, after all, not Santa), but I can imagine that the words Santa and fake, regardless of the semantics, would not go over well in a room full of pre-schoolers and their keepers.

Regardless, I wholeheartedly encourage you to read the editor’s full response.  Does a more perfect answer to the Santa question exist?  Church captured the wonder and spirit of Christmas and the holiday season, and reminds us year after year (when his editorial pops up in Macy’s commercials, TV specials, holiday books and is reprinted in newspapers across the country) that “the most real things the world are those that neither children nor men can see.”

That does not necessarily mean that the Boogie Man is the most real thing in the world.  It means, I think, that Peace and Charity and Compassion and Thoughtfulness and L-O-V-E (while I’m spelling words, Aretha Franklin, let’s not forget R-E-S-P-E-C-T) are the most real things.  Not material things or just plain old materials, like burlap or felt.

This being 2009, the Virginias of the world may need more high tech proof that Santa exists.  Fortunately I received the most magical email of all time earlier this week:

Yes, Virginia, he is on Twitter

Now might be a good time to assure you that I am not under the influence.  This post was fueled by a tall glass of Christmas cheer, and I don’t mean the peppermint schnapps kind.  I do feel a bit like I’ve been sniffing candy canes or huffing glitter, though.  I may or may not have DVR’d Carrie Underwood’s holiday special on Fox last week.  OK.  I fully did.

My shame level hasn’t dipped quite low enough to warrant actually watching it yet, but I have a feeling we’re not too far off.   You’ll have to wait with baited breath to hear how magical it was.  Or wasn’t.  I’ll get swept up in anything Christmas related.  I just can’t help it.

Also On Tap for Today:

Tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus in your life?

“DEAR EDITOR: I am 8 years old.
“Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus.
“Papa says, ‘If you see it in THE SUN it’s so.’
“Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus?

Today: Fun on the run.

14 December 2009

2 Comments

Yesterday was our last race for the year, the Jingle Bell 5k in Somerville.  I had desperately low expectations for myself, considering I’ve hardly been running at all since the Tufts 10k.  That’s not to say I’ve been sitting around doing nothing… just almost.  By some Christmas miracle, I had one of the best races of my infantile running career and my fastest 5k (but not fastest race) by over a minute.  What the ho-ho-heck?

I think, if anything, this proves that running is (at least partly) a mental game.  There have been so many races that I’ve diligently trained for, only to wake up on race day a total looney tune.  I get so nervous that I convince myself I can’t go faster, or that maybe I should take a quick walk break, or that maybe I am having an asthma attack even though I don’t have asthma… and so on.

Not yesterday.  I woke up knowing the race would be fun (thousands of people show up every year, many decked in their holiday finest), I’d get to hang out with Nick and Jimmy and Colleen and Shaun, and that it’d be the last race of the year.  And that it wasn’t worth wondering if I’d do horribly, since I knew I’d do horribly.  I could recommit to running and be back on track in 2010.

By focusing on having a grand old time (and listening to Mariah Carey Christmas jams on my iPod), I had a grand old time.  And before I knew it, I was crossing the finish line.  When I saw the time on my watch (and let’s be serious, it’s all relative… I am not a speed demon by any means), I felt incredibly proud.  One of the best things about running is the fact that you can always improve, whether in speed or distance, and your strongest competition is always yourself.

A few things I’ve learned along the road:

  • No running music is embarrassing if it gets or keeps you going.  That includes my standbys: Purple Rain, Have a Holly Jolly Christmas and anything by Miley Cyrus.
  • Similarly, no running outfit is embarrassing if you’re comfortable… well… and appropriately covered.
  • Do not skip breakfast before a race.  I learned this the hard way a few races ago, when I found myself laying on the kitchen floor, convinced I had contracted a rare form of bubonic plague that only lasts and hour or two, but is terrifying nonetheless.
  • There’s a time and place for running with other people.  Figure out what those times and places are, and aren’t.  My sister and I started the Tufts 10k together, and I almost immediately knew I’d be holding her back, so I let that pretty little bird run free!  Muhaha.
  • Planning to have fun, is much more fun than planning to have an awful time.  Any dingbat knows that.

This year I’ve accomplished more than I imagined I could have.  From my first 7.5 mile race to my first 10k, to completing the full summer series and earning a coveted (well, maybe that’s a stretch) red jacket, I must say, I am quite pleased with myself.

Also On Tap for Today:

What are you most proud of in 2009?

Today: The Good, the Bad, and the U-G-L-Y

9 December 2009

2 Comments

This may seem a bit premature, but before I knew it, December was here and I have a feeling January will be similarly sneaky.  Like every year we’ve lived before, 2009 had its ups and its downs.  It had beautiful moments, it had ugly moments.  I hope your moments were more up than down, and more beautiful than ugly.  And I hope 2010 is your best year yet.  Most of all, I hope those pleasantries will distract you from this, my worst blog post of all time.

GOOD in 2009

Gray's Papaya via NY Magazine

The Recession: Whoa, whoa, whoa… I know what you’re thinking.  Good?  The Recession? And then maybe you’re deleting this blog from your Google Reader.  I ain’t mad at cha.  But, like most catastrophes, the recession has provided several opportunities.  And opportunities are good.

I am being more mindful of my spending.  This holiday season, we are placing more value on the time we spend with one another, and less value on how much we spend on one another.  Some of us are rediscovering Yankee thrift, others never forgot it.  We make lists, print coupons and look for discount codes.  We don’t buy cheese balls when we could buy… cheese.  We realize that being generous with our time and talent, and putting others first when we can, does more for us than buying a new handbag.  Saving keeps our bank accounts in the black, but spending goodwill  keeps our human accounts in the black.  I am a cheese ball.

The AdCouncil’s Fatherhood Involvement PSA:

Glee on Fox: If you told me this time last year that I’d be hooked on a musical/comedy/drama about a high school glee club, I would’ve looked at you like you were a man pretending his son was trapped in a tin foil weather balloon.  In other words, like you were crazy.  And yes, we will get to the Heenes,  but not in this category.  Glee is a great treat.  Kurt’s coming out to his father was one of the best TV moments of the year, except for any moment that happened on Lost.

A new home: After all the looking and wishing and hoping and praying and deals falling apart, we moved into our new home at the end of August.  If there was a perfect category, I would have filed this here.  That’s where I’d also put my family, my friends, health, happiness, work and the puppy.

THE BAD in 2009

Saying Goodbye: We said goodbye to some pretty incredible people this year.  No disrespect to Billy Mays, but our Senator from Massachusetts may have been the hardest goodbye.  Just yesterday, my fellow voters and I turned out (in very small numbers) to pick party candidates to fill Sen. Kennedy’s seat.  I noticed one news anchor referred to these candidates as “vying to replace Sen. Kennedy.”  I’m not sure that’s possible.  A longtime champion for the disenfranchised, the elderly, the sick, Ted is truly missed.

I haven’t made it past the prologue of True Compass, because it only took reading a few pages to turn me into a weeping willow, but hopefully I’ll read the whole thing soon.   And you know I miss the King of Pop.  But that’s a different blog post.

H1N1: Call it the swine flu, but please, let’s not  call it the Mexican flu.  The H1N1 is still sneezing around schools and workplaces, which is why there are two bottles of Purell on my desk.  Actually, I think I mistakenly took one from my co-worker, but I am prepared nonetheless.

Bernard Madoff: He’s too handome-ish to fall into the Ugly category, and he is most definitely bad.  I had a French teacher in high school would say “Shame, shame, everyone knows your name” if you didn’t do an assignment.  He’d then write your name on the blackboard.  Shame, shame, everyone knows Bernie’s name.  BC alumnus Harry Markopolos knew Bernie’s name before many of us, blowing the whistle for ten years and blasting the SEC for not acting sooner.  Harry, you most certainly land in the good category.

Sarah Palin wrote a book?: Yes, that was a question.  If you’ve read it, please let me know if I assumed correctly that it is… bad.

THE UGLY in 2009

jiffy pop balloon boy

Photo: tumblr.com

Terrifying Television Families:  I hope all of these folks get real jobs in 2010, in workplaces that don’t allow TLC or TMZ or WTF cameras to follow them around.  Forget Jon and Kate +8, I’d love to cast The Universe Minus You Weirdos, and by design, it would never air.  Octomom, the Balloon Family and anyone with the last name Lohan:  Call me.  Actually, don’t.  Just assume you got the part.  Hopefully in 2010 we can all focus on our own (less ridiculous) families.

Photo: flickr.com

Bad Role Models: Is it me, or did lying and cheating politicians and athletes come out of the woodwork in 2009?  I’m talking to you, Tony the Tiger.  You’re not grrrrrrrreat.  Sure, public figures are human and yes, there are two sides to every story… but politicians and athletes choose to be in the public eye.  It’s not that hard to do the right thing.  Regular people do it everyday, don’t we?  I think I just got winded.

Whew! The good news is that 2012 is just a movie, so we have plenty of time to get it right.  And regardless of my list, I really do think there is far more good going on than bad.  How’s that for ending on a delightful note?

Also On Tap for Today:

Who or what made it to your Good, Bad and Ugly lists?

Check out this site I found called Goldstar. They have half-price tickets and member reviews! http://bit.ly/8wICJs

Today: Find boughs of holly.

8 December 2009

4 Comments

Fa la la la la… la la.. la… la.  This weekend I went into full on Christmas Elf mode.  With Nick’s help as the VP of Christmas (he has remote control over the Christmas lights… yes, with a real remote control), we got the condo decked in no time.  Saturday’s snowfall was the perfect backdrop.

We took the little monster to French Bulldog Meetup in the South End on Saturday morning, in the rain.  He rolled around in the dirt, got slobbered on by other puppies, and learned how to jump up on the big rocks in the middle of the park.  It was all fun and frenchie games until a rather unsociable woofer bit Clark’s ear, Mike Tyson style.  He’s fine, but I don’t think we’ll be rushing to the next meetup.

We did, however, rush to B.Y.O.D., because the dog we were bringing was dirtier than Christian Aguilera, circa 2002.  I had no idea what to expect, and had never bathed Clark myself (the lovely folks at Dewberry Dogs usually have that distinct pleasure), but I’ve got to tell you… this was a lot of fun.  A good solution for emergency baths.  There was no verb in that last sentence.  What else is new?

This bath was mostly undone by all the running around in the snow we did.  I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time.  Next snowfall (tomorrow?), I must remember to bring a camera outside for our walks.

After B.Y.O.D., we tooted down to our end of Southie to pick up a Christmas tree.  A young couple has rented a small lot on Broadway and is selling and (this is the best part) delivering Christmas trees to the neighborhood.  We got a gorgeous Nova Scotian, not unlike Boston’s official tree… but, well, smaller.  Did you know that the good people of Nova Scotia have sent a tree our way every year since 1971?  Tonight I plan to sit by the tree, and sip a cup of tea with a bit of Nova Scotian honey from my Nova Scotian friend.

Here’s the tree and the rest of the decor:

Nary a squirrel in sight...

Peacin' it

Clark and his main man, Santa

There's no chimney, but these were still hung with care...

No chimney, but hung with care nonetheless

Please pardon my French books

Exhausted or humiliated?

What a pear! ...Um

The bow was another DIM project...muhaha

Also On Tap for Today:

  • Devise pressie strategy and execute this week… or else.
  • Vote in the Massachusetts special primary for Senate
  • Set out warm clothes for what promises to be a wintry morning tomorrow

Have you decked your halls and walls yet?

Today: Bi(r)d adieu to Harwich.

7 December 2009

3 Comments

When my mom turned fifty a year older, my siblings and I had the genius idea to buy her a pair of love birds.  I think, technically, I had the idea and convinced them to go along with it… but once you hear how this stroke of genius ended (possibly with an actual bird stroke), you’ll realize I’m not bragging.  More like, taking the blame.

I did a little research (not a lot), and Andrea and I went where the pets go (Petco) and picked up a very cute pair of  peach-faced loved birds.  They were packaged in what was basically an unmarked Munchins box.  The sales person pet specialist told us they’d chirp the whole way home.  The didn’t move or make a peep.  An anxiety riddled half hour passed.  Then came the “how to move them from the munchkin box to the cage” debacle.  Several anxiety riddle hours passed.  Somehow, the transfer was completed.

Allegedly, the birds were from Madagascar, but they could’ve been from Medford, for all we knew.  To this day, we have no idea if they were male or female or one of each, but we thought they were both males and named them Brewster and Harwich, for our favorite places on the Cape. We loved how surprised Mom was when she and Dad got home from her birthday dinner.  She asked, “Are these really for me?”  That was my favorite part.  Of the entire lives of these birds.

Which… um… for Brewster was two months.  Like many other birds across the country, Brewster sadly met his end on Thanksgiving.  Mom and I took him to an animal hospital, where he was incubated in what looked like an aquarium.  Apparently he had some disease (weird, our Petco Pal said those missing feathers were due to molting…) and needed to be euthanized.

I am not making any of this up.

So while the vets prepared a very small needle, my mom and I stood in the ICU, which was essentially a small room filled with various dying species, including a parrot whose feet had been bitten off by his cage mate and a dog experiencing kidney failure.

I don’t think I have ever experienced anything more awkward.

We worried that Harwich would be depressed without his questionably better half, but he seemed to thrive as an only birdchild for several years.  He was an adventurous fellow, completing solo flights to the top of the Christmas tree and to the dark recesses behind the entertainment center.  If I was the Bird Whisperer, I would imagine his favorite part of the day was when my parents uncovered and fed him and he got to stare out the window at the uncivilized birds in the yard.

Sadly, just days after this Thanksgiving, Harwich… flew to heaven (I figure if all dogs go to heaven, lovebirds probably do too).  Bye, bye, birdie.  Hello, hello, shopping for new pets for Mom and Dad.  I’m kidding… I promise I will never do that again.

Also On Tap for Today:

  • Puppy/human obedience class (must remember to not wear high heels)
  • Pick up my final food items for Project Feed Me
  • Remind my fellow Massachusetters to vote in tomorrow’s primary!

What was the most memorable gift you’ve given or received?

Today: Check the Doppler.

3 December 2009

3 Comments

This weather is just plain crazy.

I slept an extra two hours this morning because apparently, as of today, Clark doesn’t wake up at 5:15 anymore.  Remind me to start setting my alarm again.  I bundled up, grabbed his leash and set off for the elevator.  The minute we stepped outside it was clear: I had over-bundled.  It’s a record high 67 degrees in Boston today.  Our poor polar ice caps!

It’s also windy enough that I worry our condo building might uproot itself and land on a good witch somewhere at the other end of Southie.  What the heck is happening today?  We’ve had rain, hurricane force winds, sun, unseasonable warmth and apparently snow’s on the way this weekend.  I suppose this is why we love and hate living in New England.  And why my wardrobe is having an identity crisis.

Also On Tap for Today:

  • Assemble new office furniture, including a real table (no more eating at my desk!)
  • Try to put a dent into Harry Potter; I am finally joining the real world and reading the first book in the series… wizzzzards!
  • Buy stamps

What’s the weather like in your neighborhood?