A RoBu Raucous

My New Boyfriend

2010-04-05T17:54:00.001-07:00

I have recently started dating someone new. It's very exciting. We're still in that fun, getting to know one another stage where the possibilities seem limitless. We met when he leaned out the passenger's side window of his friend's two-door sedan and said "nice tits". It was an instant connection. For our one month anniversary, we went to Chilis. We did it up big too: Kahlua mudslides and a bloomin' onion. I know it seems soon, but we've already begun making summer vacation plans. We were thinking of staying at one of those motels on Route 1 in Maine close to Old Orchard Beach, the drive-in movie theater and Aquaboggan.

I wonder if anyone ever met his or her boyfriend from a cat call. Many questions pass through my head when men shout things at me on the street. What do those guys hope to gain from these comments? What type of response are they hoping for? Is the anticipated response, "why thank you kind sir, would you like a bj now? It's the very least I can do".

I think I am going to start cat-calling men. I have all sorts of things that come to mind when I see an attractive man on the street. Perhaps instead of just thinking them, I will start shouting my thoughts: "nice shoulders", "your hair looks so soft", or "you look like you would make a great provider". No, cat calls from me just would not have the same effect.

I think what I dislike most about encounters with cat callers is the inner-conflict they stir for me. On the one hand, I feel outraged that women, and me personally, are objectified by total strangers in what society deems an acceptable, harmless behavior. On the other hand, I think "thanks for noticing. I thought they looked good today too."

Kotel, Motel, Holiday Inn

2010-01-20T03:44:00.000-08:00

While in Israel, we visited the Kotel (Western Wall). It's a significant tourist/religious/historical site for the country. Starting on the first day of our trip, our guide mentioned something like "when we go to the kotel, ...". At this point, the song "Hotel Room" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0JHhvVayxq8&feature=related) popped into my head. That was 12 days ago, and it is still stuck in my head. I mentioned to another girl that I kept singing "kotel, motel, holiday inn" in my head, and she chuckled. She named her Israel Facebook album that, and so this morning it popped back into my head when I saw her album.

When I returned to work yesterday, everyone asked me "So how was your trip?" to which I always replied "great." I just do not know what to say. There is so much to say, and no way to condense it into a short elevator or hallway response. Perhaps when I am asked today, I will say "the song "Hotel Room" was stuck in my head the entire trip."

Top 23 of 2009

2009-12-30T19:34:00.001-08:00

Thanks to an overzealous obstetrician who did not want to run the risk of being called out of his New Year's Eve party, I was brought into this world at 8:16 am on the last day of 1985. While I am quick to complain about this birthday, it does come in handy. You see, I am able to create a best of list that is both the best of 2009 and the best of my 23rd year on earth.

Here is a selection of my favorite activities and happenings of 2009. As a best of list, it is flawed and illogical. Somethings happened once while others happened every day. At the very least, it serves as a shout out to the lovely people in my life that made this year great.

Here they are, in a somewhat chronological order:

1. Walking across the densely-trafficked bridge in Dorchester with Emily to get to Target, and all other subsequent trips to the South Bay Shopping Plaza on the #16 bus

2. Moving into my amazing apartment that has hot water, heat, and a washer and dryer

3. Viewing the Mapparium at the Mary Baker Eddy Library with my mom

4. Watching True Blood at Jason's house

5. Mascoting as a giant turtle for a hospital charity walk and getting a back rub from that big, weird, red-haired Celtics player

6. Eating Red Bones and watching The Hangover with Brian and Ariel, which eventually led to the creation of the Lone Wolf Pack Clubby Club

7. Spending the perfect summer day on the lake at Erin’s camp with my oldest friends

8. Discovering the beach at Manchester-by-the Sea with Emily and eating Italian ice on a bench overlooking the ocean

9. Seeing the Beach Boys perform on the Esplanade

10. Eating soft serve ice cream on Revere Beach

11. Tailgating for the Revolutions

12. Cooking for and eating at Tuesday night dinner club

13. Coming in second to last place every week at trivia

14. Learning to play Scrabble like a winner

15. Growing a pretty awesome avocado pit that is going to sprout any day now

16. Gchatting constantly with Emily almost every work day of almost every work week in 2009

17. Playing Apples to Apples on Thanksgiving

18. Watching It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia while painting my nails

19. Working on the hot air balloon puzzle with Tam Tam while listening to our Hipster Puzzle Jams Mix that features Paul Simon, Phoenix, Passion Pit, and The Yeah Yeah Yeahs

20. Wearing outrageous sneakers to annoy my superiors at work

21. Decorating my Christmas branch that I found at a free Christmas tree lot on Christmas Eve while cruising with Brian and Sarah

22. Kicking boys to the curb that do not look like Mic Jagger

23. Helping to bring back boom-shaka-la-ka as a popularly used expression

Things I Like: 12/22/09

2009-12-22T19:22:00.000-08:00

When I said that I had nothing to write in my blog, my friend Jason gchat replied that I could always make a list of my top five pet peeves. I could never narrow the list down to just five though, so I'm going to scrap that suggestion all together.

Instead, here are my top five things from today:

1) Quote I heard

"Wow. You are talking trash today. You're like a trash truck. You are a dump truck today" Brian to Ariel at lunch.

2) Food I ate

Homemade pad thai at Erin's

3) Conversation I was a part of

"You should be prepared for different temperatures when you're in Israel. The key is layering," my new co-worker advised me on my upcoming trip.

"I know, but how can I fit it all? I'm only allowed one suitcase. I mean, I need my clubbing clothes," I responded.

"What? Really? Why? Why do you need clubbing clothes?" my boss asked.

"Oh yes. All the kids brought clubbing clothes. They go clubbing you know. All the kids go clubbing. When I staffed a birthright trip, all the kids brought clubbing clothes for when they go clubbing at night. But I was with kids from New York, so they were more fashionable and have more clubbing clothes," Crazy ABK rambled.

"Oh yes. I mean, we slobs from Boston certainly don't have any clubbing clothes to bring. Well, I do have my clubbing fannel to wear" I responded.

Nancy and I laughed, but Crazy ABK didn't quite catch on.

"Really? What's that like?" Crazy ABK asked with no hint of humor in her voice.

"It's cropped at the waist, like this" I said as I tried to demonstrate a tube top.

"Oh,well that's because you're from Maine," Crazy ABK said in all seriousness.

4) Song I had stuck in my head

"Spill the Wine" by War

5) Book I read

"The Snowy Day" by Ezra Jack Keats

Lessons I learned from these favorite things:

1) I have the sophisticated humor of an eight year old, and I think the word dump is really funny. It's just funny to say and hear. Look forward to me using dump truck as my new favorite insult.

2) Erin is constantly impressing me with her culinary whiz. She just whipped up delicious pad thai as if it were spaghetti and sauce from a jar. Although this wasn't so much a lesson as it was an affirmation of something I already knew.

3) Making fun of ABK when she doesn't realize it is really entertaining. Again, this wasn't a new lesson. Oh, I also learned it is important to layer in Israel. Jerusalem is all brick, apparently.

4) I really hate having songs stuck in my head when I don't know the lyrics.

5) Books with pictures are better than books without pictures. Maybe if Start-up Nation, the book I told my boss I finished weeks ago, had pictures in it, I would have finished it. (Two maps at the beginning do not count).

Back Brace Girl

2009-12-08T16:47:00.000-08:00

After a week of moaning and groaning about my lower back pain, I finally broke down, paid the $20 co-pay, and saw my doctor. After making me do the regular tests (testing my hamstring flexibility, my sense of feeling in my feet, and my knee reflex) she asked me to bend down and touch my toes. Then she said, "oh, it's looks like you have scoliosis. Let's get you an x-ray."

I hobbled down to the 2nd floor and had x-rays taken of my back and hips. I snuck a quick peek of the x-rays when I was in the elevator headed back to my doc's office, and they looked fine to me. Apparently, I'm not qualified to make such an assessment. As my doctor pointed out to me, I apparently do have a distinct curve in my spine. Very peculiar. She said there's nothing to worry about. I believe her too, because she said it in a very calm voice while patting my upper arm.

Not knowing much about scoliosis, I did what I always do when I don't know enough about a topic, and Googled it. Google health listed the symptoms and causes, and obvious information about the condition. It also had a number of illustrations that were very useful to me, because I can't really check out my back or this new curve. Here are some of the illustrations:

At the bottom, in the "Complications" section, Google says "Emotional problems or lowered self-esteem may occur as a result of the condition". I'm a little confused. I am going to have low self esteem because I have a curve in my spine or because all women with scoliosis are apparently forced to wear enormous, white granny-panties? I promise, if my doctor writes me a prescription for large underpants, I will have emotional problems, guaranteed.

Spice and Thanks

2009-12-02T07:31:00.001-08:00

Yesterday I spoke with two friends that I had not seen in many days. They both prompted me for crazy stories about my life while they were away, and I did not really have anything to say. It's been a slow few weeks. They were both shocked that I also did not have much to say about my Thanksgiving.

Don't misunderstand, I had a very lovely Thanksgiving in Portland, Maine with one of my oldest and closest friends and her husband. We were joined by two of their friends and their daughter. We had a delicious meal and played games and laughed heartily afterwards. It was the type of holiday that greeting cards are based on.

It was the lack of drama that caught me off guard. It can't be a major holiday unless someone yells, at least in my family. The yelling usually took place after dinner was over, and my brother retired to sleep on the couch and fart. My mom never seemed to appreciate the lack of help with the dishes, hence the yelling. I at least was smart enough to hide in my room afterwards to avoid the dishes.

Yelling aside, Thanksgiving was always the best holiday in the Ryder/Ryder-Kenna/Kenna home. To this day I am not sure what time my mom woke up in the morning, but by the time we woke, the house smelled like turkey and love. My mom has a delicious stuffing recipe based on Bell's seasoning, butter, and celery. She would stuff the turkey, and always save a little dish of it for me to eat for breakfast. My mom's stuffing is one of my favorite things in this world.

The anticipation increased throughout the day, as I snacked on small sweet pickles and black olives, a holiday tradition for us. We would try to distract ourselves with the Macy's Parade and the dog show and perhaps a half-hearted attempt at a game of Monopoly. Finally around 1:30 - I told you my mom woke up early - we would gorge on delicious turkey, cranberry sauce from a can, mashed potatoes, turnips, and stuffing. It was always washed down with Diet Pepsi and Hood Egg Nog.

What I loved about Thanksgiving was not only the delicious food, but the kitchen mishaps and the way my mom laughed them off. My favorite mishap was when she tried to make mashed potatoes in a blender. That year we had potato puree, and trust me, it was not good. It was also a given that no matter whose responsibility it was, the Pillsbury pop-out biscuits were going to get burned. In fact, my mom always bought two cans for just that reason.

So this year we had no kitchen mishaps or yelling, and it was wonderful. I appreciate that my generous friends have welcomed me into their family for the holidays for the past two years, and I love the opportunity to make new memories. Although I think when I have my own kids, I'm going to feed them sweet pickles and stuffing and yell at them. That's just the R/R-K/K way.

Home Alone

2009-11-23T15:10:00.000-08:00

I've always been a bit of a scaredy cat. I was deathly afraid of dogs until I was eleven. This included a fear of my best friend Maia's dog, Sugar Bear. He was as ferocious as his name implied. I was also very afraid of Chuckie, the fictitious doll with the soul of a serial killer, until about that age as well.

Dogs and possessed dolls were both scary, but no fear was more prominent in my mind than my fear of aliens. I think it must have started when my dad let me watch a movie about a man who got out of his truck to pee against a tree and was abducted by aliens. I don't remember anything else from the movie except that at one point it shows the aliens putting jelly-goo in the man's eyes. From this point forward I prayed every night to my dead grandmother to plead my case and ask that she make sure I was not abducted by aliens.

While I'm proud to report that my prayers have matured, I now ask only for world peace, snow days, and new shoes, I am unfortunately still afraid of aliens. I keep this fear under control. It's certainly not a phobia or anything. I do leave my house after dark (even though everyone knows aliens only come at night), I have been in an open field recently (even though everyone knows aliens only abduct people from fields), and I do spend time alone (even though everyone knows aliens only abduct lone individuals, never groups of tourists or entire tribes). I don't even think about aliens everyday or anything.

Then today when I stepped in my front door, I saw my National Geographic face down on the floor under the mail slot. I obviously got super excited, because it's always the best piece of mail each month. I shoved it under my arm and headed upstairs. I just took it off the counter, only to see that the cover story is "Are We Alone? Searching the Heavens for Another Earth". This is not good. Oh no. I don't need to be encouraged by legitimate news sources. Another earth would obviously need to be populated, most likely by large, green sort-of-human shaped beings that have long faces and no hair.

To be honest though, I think I'm going to wait for my roommate to come home from Thanksgiving break before I take off the plastic wrap, even if I do really want to read the article "How Plants Mate".

Flu Prevention

2009-11-16T16:32:00.000-08:00

Flu prevention awareness is everywhere right now. It's all over the news, and there is even a public service announcement that plays on the T. Rightly so, given that the CDC reports widespread flu activity in 46 states.

Now there are three main ways to prevent the flu:

Cover your mouth when you cough
Wash your hands frequently
Sneeze into your elbow

I'm on board with the first two. I cover my mouth when I cough. I did graduate from kindergarten, didn't I? I also wash my hands frequently. I even sing happy birthday as I do so to guarantee that I've adequately washed them.

#3 I just don't understand. When I sneeze into my elbow, I always get boogers in my elbow. In fact, it happened today when I was sitting in my cubicle. Kleenex needs to make an elbow protector, because this was seriously gross and embarrassing. Kleenex could make a tissue paper sleeve that I put over my sweaters, and then this whole problem could be avoided. They could also be decorated. Remember when SARS broke out in China and they had decorated face masks. It could be just like that. I want a leopard printed sleeve protector. We could all walk around just like this woman. Flu prevented, sleeves protected.

In the mean time, I'm going to sneeze into my hands and wipe them on public surfaces, like escalator railings and doorknobs at the office.

Oh! the Orange Line

2009-11-12T17:02:00.000-08:00

For my first year or so at CJP, I paid little regard to the time that I arrived at the office. It was usually because I was sleepy and slow moving, but I also got a little satisfaction out of annoying my boss. Now that I'm in a new position and have no need to rebel against the man, I've been trying to show up on time.

When I didn't care about getting to work at 9 o'clock, I would usually get on the Orange Line at 9 o'clock. There were only a handful of people on each car, and I always had an extra seat to put my lunch bag on. Each day this week I've gotten on the train at half past eight. The commute at this hour is an entirely different beast. It's hot and crowded and it smells like the Metro (a free, trashy daily newspaper, for those of you who live in Alabama). Today was unusually crowded, and the following scene ensued.

I got on after a number of people. There was no hope of getting a seat, so I stood next to a young woman listening to her iPod. She let out an exasperated sigh to let us all know that she was annoyed and did not want to be crowded in. After her enormous bag hit me twice, I scootched away. After two stops, a polite woman in her late sixties, who've I've frequently taken the train with, turned around and said to the young woman, "excuse me, but your bag is hitting me in the back".

"So, what do you want me to do about it? It's a crowded train," replied the young woman. She let out another exasperated sigh, and turned her back on the other woman, hitting her again with her bag.

"I would like you to stop hitting me with your bag."

"It's a crowded train. There's no where to go. What do you want me to do about it?"

"Perhaps you could hold you bag in front of your body."

"Lady, shut up!" the young woman exclaimed. She adjusted her bag, in order to make it stick out further behind her, intentionally ramming the other woman with her bag again.

After a few moments of silence, the older woman demanded "STOP hitting me with your bag!"

"I'm not hitting you with my bag. You're hitting ME with YOUR bag. I am sick of it. Why do you keep hitting me with your bag?" the young woman yelled.

"Chill." the stoned man with long hair drawled.

"You? Why don't you mind your biz-nezz."

Numerous people offered the older woman their seats, but she adamantly refused to sit down. She insisted through clenched teeth that "I don't want to sit. I just want her to stop hitting me with her bag!"

"Lady! You're the one hitting me with your bag."

"You're a liar!"

"I'm not a liar! You're the liar! Ughhhhh!"

It was at this point that I could no longer hold it in, and I left out a muffled chuckle. I know that I shouldn't have laughed, but it was very funny. This woman was just so ridiculous. A few of us saw her accidentally hit the woman with her bag in the beginning, and then once they had created such a raucous and everyone's attention was focused on them, everyone saw her intentionally shove the woman with her bag. After the woman heard my laugh, she swung her bag in my direction, and just barely grazed my side.

We reached Mass Ave, and once everyone had enough room for their bags, we all rode in silence until Downtown Crossing. The young woman shoved her way out of the train first, and we all went our separate ways.

Ah, the joys of an Orange Line commute.

Let the Competition Begin

2009-11-11T18:35:00.000-08:00

Dear Friends,

Why am I writing a blog, you ask? Well, it's fairly simple. I'd like to be wildly famous in this world and I'm certain that everyone who writes a blog gets popular. I have worked up a pretty elaborate fantasy in my head about being a comedienne, and it's a good life, in my head in the future.

More importantly, I committed to having study-lunches twice a week with my co-worker Brian. He means business too. He sent me an Outlook meeting request, so this time is blocked off in my calendar for years. I brought my GRE test prep book once, and I quickly realized that my vocabulary is woefully unimpressive. The book suggests that I write down every word that I couldn't give a dictionary definition for. I had twenty words before I gave up and rested my head on my book. I also can't eat and study at the same time, and the beginning of the explanation for analogies is now glued together by Au Bon Pain chili. Now I'll never do well at analogies, and am scrapping the GREs altogether.

But I've committed to two quiet lunches a week, and I have to do something. Brian's GMAT prep is even worse. It's like being in freshman algebra all over again. Here's where the blog comes in. I'm going to spend these lunches writing what some call my "newsletter". Apparently it's not a blog if you write it on paper first.

So why should you read my blog? Here is a list of possible reasons:

You're an overqualified college graduate employed doing work that is far too easy, thus providing you with plenty of free time between the hours of nine and five
Your name is Bonney and you gave birth to me
You like me, my stories, or the non-sequitur musings of funny young woman

So dearest friends, thanks for reading my newsletter. I hope it will make you laugh, at me or with me. I'm fine with either.

With warmest fond wishes of kind regards,

Beth