Don't Make Me Release The Flying Monkeys

Wow! We've got a typhoon a'raging! Kendall Square is always windy, but this is dangerous.

I was just downstairs under the awning of my office building, heading to Le Cafe Horrible because it was the only source of food I could walk to without going under the torrential open sky (no way you could use an umbrella in this). Even under the awning I got thoroughly dampened by the swirling spray. Very sad people who had to go out in the storm were standing at the end of the awning, bracing themselves.

The normally empty cafe was jam packed with people who ordinarily eat elsewhere (My lunch: heat lamp chicken fingers and a relatively safe orange). The manager was probably doing the happy dance up the basement stairs with more loaves of knock-off Wonder Bread.

If you're in town, stay safe and dry!

Who else doesn't think the Ugly Betty character is ugly in the slightest? I don't watch the show, but I've seen lots of pictures of the character and I think she's adorable and quite pretty (out of costume, the actress is full-out gorgeous, IMO), and I would imagine plenty of people find the character dorkaliciously hot.



Maybe I'm missing something because I don't really know the concept of the show, but if a person who looks like this is supposedly considered ugly, there's something seriously broken about our society's set of appearance expectations (like we didn't already know that). Sheesh.

Al Gore offered a bold and crucial challenge when he called on us to get 100% of our electricity from cheap, clean sources within 10 years.

I just signed a petition to support Al Gore's ambitious challenge. Congress, candidates, and industry need to get onboard. Can you join me in helping Al Gore lead the way to greener energy? MoveOn.org's petition is here:

http://pol.moveon.org/gorechallenge?r_by=-9045924-yFfwcUx&rc=paste

Thanks!

Plum: What does the zombie vegetarian say?
Wabbit: GRAAAAIINS...

Plum: What does the zombie plumber say?
Wabbit: DRAAAAIINS...

Plum: What does the zombie phlebotomist say?
Wabbit: VEEIIIINS...

Plum: What does the zombie kinkster say?
Wabbit: CAAAAANES...

Plum: What does the zombie jet-setter say?
Wabbit: COCAAAAAIINE

Plum: What does the zombie Republican say?
Wabbit: Ummmmm...
Plum: Come on...
Wabbit: MCCAAAAIIN!!


My sweetielove and I had a very, very good relationship-meta conversation (not the conversation above, I should add!) last night. In the two years we've been together, we've really learned how to open up to each other when we have concerns or problems, and we can do it in a way that is loving and constructive toward a solution. We're both pretty good listeners by nature, and I've become less fearful of expressing concerns. The long talk left us both feeling better, and very loved.

We had some sweetie-time, then headed off with a friend to a very sexy and fun party where we had a great time. After getting back home to my house quite late we sat on the balcony, had some bourbon, and slept well and happily in each other's arms.

Today following a big breakfast in Quincy, we headed to our now beloved Nantasket beach, pulling into a paid parking space just exactly in time for a rain downpour. We waited it out in the car, not wanting to turn right around and leave. We were fortunate enough to get a short window of time between rain showers and lightning to wade at the edge of the water for a little while before the rain sent us running for the car again. Traffic was dense and we weren't able to get me back to Somerville in time for the T@F steering committee meeting, but we enjoyed each other's company in spite of the traffic.

There weren't any zombies, that we knew of.

Sadly, I missed ArtBeat today. It was too hot to even try it, and I found myself just not in the mood for festivities.

vanguardcdk and I have ALL of our air-conditioners cranking, and it's still fairly hot. There's a spider with bitey pinchers on the back balcony. I'm going out for the evening soon. I hope it cools down tonight, and that the spider goes away.

I'd been pretty lax (and by "lax" I mean "100% negligent") about brushing my two cats, because they're short-haired and so there are never knots or snarls. But poor beowabbit's cat allergies have been particularly unpleasant for him lately, so I vowed to be more proactive about shedding management.

To that end, I bought a cat brush and comb. I wasn't sure if either cat would tolerate it. But it turns out they both LOVE it, and they compete for who gets the most brushing. I can't believe how much hair came off them! Especially Ben-Ben; I filled the brush 3 times from him alone. And even ultra-short-haired Rowley had a lot of shed. The brushing also picks up dander, which is gross but helpful in allergen reduction around here. They look very sleek and pretty now, and are going to get regular brush time from now on.

beowabbit and I have discovered Nantasket Beach in Hull, MA. We happened upon it when we were looking for an alternative to Singing Beach (which makes parking very difficult for non-residents). We've been to Nantasket twice now, including yesterday when we spent a few lovely hours there.

It's small-ish and low key, which is just how I like it. It wasn't very crowded either time we went, which is a nice plus. The beach is very clean, the waves fairly large, and there's a strip of beach-y shops and food places, as well as a historic carousel and a co-op art gallery. This beach was a very pleasant find indeed. And it's so close to beowabbit's house that we could go any time without even needing to plan in advance.

Put me in the ocean waves and I feel 10 years old again. I love swimming in the ocean, and I can't believe I live so close to the Atlantic and have gone so seldom in my years here. Yesterday I even got in some body-surfing, with a protective beowabbit standing guard over his swimming-with-a-broken-toe girlfriend. Squeee!

Did you ever get up to answer your cell phone when it wakes you up in the middle of the night and on your way to reaching the phone on the other side of the room your toes SLAM into a piece of metal furniture with such force that you break one toe and seriously jam another?

Yeah, that.

This was two nights ago. The little toe on my left foot is well and truly broken, and the one next to it might as well be, for how much it hurt. I'm just now getting around to posting this, partly because I didn't want 10,000 "GO TO THE HOSPITAL!!!" replies. Unless it's compound fracture, there's nothing they can do that can't be done at home (back me up on that, docorion) other than prescribe painkillers. The traumatized toes are taped and gauzed, it hurts to walk but beowabbit brought me his cane and stayed the night to take care of me (because he is wonderful), and the toes will mend in due time. I definitely won't be out jogging this weekend or anything, though.

Today's recording session for Red Shift was just insanely fun. I haven't laughed that much or that hard in I don't know how long. Most of us only needed to be in the recording room briefly, and the rest of the time was spent making each other laugh and having a lunch break at Spike's. SpectacuLAR!

In a few hours beowabbit will be picking me up for the night. We'll go to dinner and in the morning we're heading to New Hampshire to visit a friend of his.

And now, I need a nap.

You, too, can dress your child like a l'il polygamist!

www.FLDSdress.com

CNN video where I learned of this

When I planted the wildflower seeds this year, instead of ordering the Northeastern seed mix, I got the Midwestern mix, just to see what sort of different flowers came up. One change this year is that instead of the little 6-inch mini sunflowers (which should be called squirrelrestaurantflowers), I've got 9 of the big variety coming up. The tallest one is nearly 4 feet tall already, and it's only just starting to form its flower head, so they could well reach six feet. That would be made of win. Maybe they'll remind vanguardcdk of being back in Nebraska.

So my question, having never grown these:

Should I be supporting them with a stake or anything? Or are they okay on their own?

I was also going to ask if squirrels can climb tall sunflowers, but Google gave me my answer. :-/



Oh well, I don't really mind feeding the squirrels. Must get pix of them in action, though.

This happened last night between 8:00PM and 8:30PM, roughly:

We're back from a day in New Hampshire and I am out inspecting the wild flora in beowabbit's overgrown side yard. There is a very light mist falling, the kind that feels good on a summer evening. I'm delighting in having found a tall Scottish thistle. Just then I turn to see, in a flattening among the tall grass, a dead cat with its tongue hanging out.

It is gray and white, and couldn't have been dead very long at all, I think. Aside from the tongue, it looks just like it's sleeping peacefully, curled up and not even stiff. My brain floods with all of the emotional chemicals you'd associate with a cat lover in such a situation: anguish, heartbreak, vague fear, early panic. Without poking it, I dash into the house and tell beowabbit in a shaky voice that there is a dead cat in his side yard. He follows me out, worried in his own right because his garage clean-out might well have been the cause.

I lead him to the tall grass, now shaking. From the grass, up pops the cat, very much alive and probably not happy about the mist on it's fur. It looks at us warily, then gingerly exited around the wooden fence, away to wherever it was going. Maybe it's a neighbor's cat. Maybe it's stray or feral. But in any case, it's alive. I felt like a fool.

I didn't realize that my brain's wiring declares any unmoving animal on the ground with its tongue out to be dead. I didn't stamp or make a noise; it just didn't even occur to me to do so, in my state of shock. I spent the rest of the evening suppressing an embarrassment that wasn't entirely warrented. I hope the cat is home and safe, and doesn't know its nap could possibly confuse anybody.

Everyone in my office building waited excitedly for the new cafe to open on the ground floor. We were tired of shlepping several blocks to Au Bon, or the comically over-priced Zigo, or the junk food at Dunkin Donuts. It took a month longer than expected for them to secure proper licensing, but open it eventually did.

"Oooh, how nice!" I exclaimed upon first entry. And it is nice, to look at. Everything is immaculately clean. It is roomy in a way that is rare for Cambridge eateries, and the lighting and displays of upscale snacks are attractive. The polite staff looks sharp in their stylish uniforms. Too bad that's where the pluses end.

That first visit, which was their opening day, I thought maybe they were still getting their act together and didn't fault then for the vile wrapped breakfast sandwich I grabbed from under the heat lamp. It was dry throughout, the sausage patty little more than brown crust and grizzle. Still, I forgave. They were just starting up.

No more heat lamp food, I decided was the solution. Next day I ordered 2 eggs scrambled from the grill cook, and was horrified to see her splash a soup ladleful of grease onto the frying grill. Into the puddle went my eggs, stirred around so the grease formed pockets in the cooked egg. When I slid it onto a bagel, there was a trench of yellow oil in the styrofoam container. I should have stopped going that day, but inexplicably didn't.

Want to know how to fuck up a grilled cheese sandwich? Go to Cafe on Main. They'll show you how, with a single slice of American cheese cowering half-melted between two slices of gummy whole wheat Wonder Bread, squashed momentarily on the grill but not, in any real sense, cooked. That one was worthy of a blog post of its own.

The salad bar, then. Huh, not much of a selection, but the basics that I must have in a salad were there. Boring, I thought, but how bad can it be? As bad as the first olive I put in my mouth, which was OMG spoiled.

Our building manager gave me a $5 coupon to the cafe, and I rationalized that things do taste better when they're free. I glanced at the dried-up mac & cheese, the leathery heat lamp pizza curling up at the end, and opted to get a made-to-order sandwich. I watched while the man ahead of me had a sandwich of green-edged roast beef assembled on his 3rd choice of bread, the others being 86'd for the day. Because it was free thanks to the coupon, I ordered turkey and cheese.

That sandwich tasted like french kissing a dog with gingivitis. The soaking wet pressed turkey food product dampened the stale bun, which actually made it easier to bite into. I was hungry and it was late, so I pulled most of the "turkey" out and pretty much ate a damp bun with a slice of cheese in it.

I suppose you could patch together a lunch with the packaged snacks and drinks -- Terra Chips, Kashi breakfast bars, bottled green tea drinks. But it's back to Au Bon for me, with their reliably good soups and tasty baked goods. Their uniforms aren't as handsome, but someone there actually knows how to cook.

A fun evening out at the davis_square meet-up should have been followed by a sound night's sleep, but that's not how it went for beowabbit and me (and probably innocent bystander vanguardcdk, too).

Benjamin (aka Skunky) used to be a virtually silent cat. He never meowed unless his tail got accidentally stepped on or some such. That has changed in the last few months, and he has taken to caterwalling at night and in the early morning hours. Last night it was the worst I can ever recall. He basically kept us up all damn night. I'm here at work on 2 hours sleep.

I don't know why this is happening. He won't sleep on the bed anymore, and I'm wondering if there's been some territorial shift between him and Rowley. Ben sits in the bathroom meowing, as if he wants someone to go sleep with him in there. Once he gets attention he shuts up, but leave him alone and it starts right back up. He won't stay in the room with us and Rowley (or me and Rowley when Wabbit isn't there).

The meowing doesn't really sound like anything having to do with physical pain. It's a forlorn inquiry repeted 10,000 times. Mwow? Mwow? Mwow? He's eating, drinking and litter boxing normally. vanguardcdk noticed he'd thrown up a few times last week. Unlike Rowley's vomitorium purging so he can eat more, Ben-ben doesn't usually throw up. I don't know what's going on in his mind and body.

But I know what's going on in mine. I'm an underslept zombie with a headache. Time for a vet trip, ASAP. Darling beowabbit said he will take us. My big fear is that Benjamin is going senile. I don't know his actual age, but I do know he's at least 11 or 12, possibly years older though he's looking great. That's something we need to look into at the vet. My poor baby. And poor humans -- I can barely keep my eyes open.

See what I directed, and 7 other plays!



Thursday July 31, 8:00pm
Friday August 1, 8:00pm
Saturday August 2, 8:00pm
Sunday August 3, 3:00pm (matinee)
Thursday August 7, 8:00pm
Friday August 8, 8:00pm
Saturday August 9, 8:00pm

THE PLAYS

Playwriting 101
Nice Tie
Off The Map
Last Minute Adjustments
Find Me A Primitive Man
Matterhorn
Bride and Gloom
OMG, It's Another Play

$12 Adults, $10 Students/Seniors
First Congregational Church of Somerville
89 College Avenue
Somerville, MA 02144
www.theatreatfirst.org

Matt Harding's latest dance around the world. It fills me with joy.



www.wherethehellismatt.com

I knew I'd regret saying that Boston has no weather drama. I got caught right in it! Soaked to the underwear! Halfway home I dodged into the church where T@F rehearses. See pictures of the flooding in this post. It's still coming down.

Poll #1210260 Home Investment
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All

Would you buy a home in a hurricane or tornado zone?

Would you buy a home in an area predisposed to earthquakes?

Would a dense natural population of poisonous snakes deter you you from buying a home in that area?

How about tarantulas?

Wow, my schedule is just insane this week. I have something scheduled every night this week except one, and I am keeping that one all to myself. It's pleasant stuff of a social/date/theatre nature, but I don't usually need to book back-to-back like this. I'll get through, but I'm going to be toast by the time I get to my downtime evening.

A good number of people on my f'list like to post their week's schedule in advance. I notice that some of them have either a date or something social virtually every single night, and on the occasional night they're on their own, it makes them sad and grumpy.

I need more solo time than that. This is something that my beloved beowabbit and I are happily in agreement about. We both need some time to ourselves to recharge and stay balanced. I in particular reach astronomical stress levels if I'm over-booked.

The following week promises to be more lightly scheduled for me. We'll see if that lasts.