3.31.2005
life stuff
So here's what's on my mind at the moment: last Saturday I was down a total of 19 pounds since starting in earnest January 3. I was all psyched and on a roll and mentally anticipating hitting my target. Then Easter came and fucked me all up. I went into the day stupidly thinking I could somehow work around it, but my family's Easter dinner is a feast: antipasto, baked ziti with meatballs, salad, chicken cutlets, fried zucchini, and lamb... plus fruit, chocolate, pizzelles, anise cookies, trifle and ricotta pie. Then we had to visit the other side of the family and they had round two of dessert: cherry cheesecake cupcakes, peanut butter pie, and banana cream pie. So, there was no way.

That got me all off course. Monday it was hard to revert back. Tuesday I made the mistake of weighing myself and the scale said I was up 5. I freaked even though I knew it was mostly water or salt or something. And I've been derailed since. I start every day with good intentions and then it breaks down. I still work out, I still drink tons of water, so I guess I'm still doing well, but I won't really feel satisfied until I hit that damn goal.

On another, but not less obsessive, note: baseball starts in 3 days!


3.21.2005
A Guinny for a guinea
Happy Potato Day, all. I spent this weekend getting back to my Irish roots. The Dropkick Murphys kicked ass on Saturday afternoon. We blew off the opening bands and showed up just as the second opener was wrapping up. The place was completely packed, teeming with boyish crewcutted men in newsboy caps. Joe used his concert instinct to steer us to a decent spot on the right side of the stage, near the front. We were behind a couple of skinheads and in front of two drunk chicks who were hanging off each other like boxers and kept elbowing us. The house lights went down to the mournful strains of The Foggy Dew and then the giant Dropkicks banner dropped down and they exploded onto the stage. Great show, what can I say? They did all the tunes I wanted to hear: Bastards on Parade, the Gauntlet, Blackout, The Dirty Glass, Tessie (complete with video intro by Lenny DiNardo)... and they did a ripping version of Dirty Water to get the hometown pride flowing. After the show I grabbed a pic of the Citgo sign on my cameraphone and made it my new phone wallpaper.

Yesterday Judy and I were in Southie for the parade. Her aunt, a nun, lives a couple of blocks off the parade route so we went to her place, watched the politician's breakfast on TV, and played with her neice and nephew, then went out to line up along the police barriers. Mostly the parade is what you'd expect: marching bands in kilts, high school color guard squads, staties on horseback, politicians shaking hands and kissing babies, old guys in funny vehicles, kids throwing candy and bead necklaces, and people garbed in various shades of green drinking from strange containers. Good times.


3.18.2005
Happy Friday
7 iTunes now! I learned that I can tip the bottle and know in advance if it's a winner. Yes, it takes away the spontanaiety, and it makes me look a little weird in the cafeteria, but I'm beating the man and I like that. This is the greatest contest because I'd buy all these Diet Pepsis anyway. I wonder if there is something in the rules, all that fine frint on the back of the label, that says they can cart you away in the paddywagon for peeking?

Only a couple weeks left until Sox opening day. Doug Mirabelli has been in the Metro a couple times this week because I guess he's going to be in the Red Sox episode of Queer Eye. That will be awesome; can't wait until it airs. Joe said something in one of the articles indicated that he is religious. He's Italian, so is he Catholic? I don't know a lot of Catholics who are feeling too good about the state of things these days. Maybe he's Buddhist; maybe he meditates while he's sitting on the cooler in the dugout every four out of five games.

Speaking of religion, this is probably very retarded but I was touched by a moment on the newest Real World/Road Rules challenge. Country boy Jon Brennan went into the Inferno in place of the Miz because he wanted to do as Jesus would and sacrifice himself for the good of the team. He lost to adorable Dan from Miami and Julie the Mormon cried because the symbolism of his gesture went right over the heads of the others, who are a bunch of blaspheming, fornicating, disgraceful sinners. Except for Dan, who is fabulous. I wish Jon had stuck around because I like him; he seems like a sweet guy and isn't all pushy with his beliefs like New Orleans Matt. I'm glad Coral isn't on this season; I actually admire her quite a bit but every season is the same when she's there: "Coral's controlling, Coral's manipulative, Coral hurt my feelings." No, Coral is smart; she fucked with your head and it worked and she made it to the end and not you!

Last night my dress for Andrea's wedding finally came from Nordstrom; it took forever. A little long, but very cute. Black & white polka dot print with a yellow ribbon that ties around the empire waist and a bit of yellow trim. I'm really starting to see a difference in the shape of my body since I began working out in earnest, a perceptible narrowing, firming, and straightening that I feel regardless of what the scale says. That's the ultimate idea, I suppose, so yay!


3.15.2005
Free!
Yay, after I posted yesterday about my fourth free iTune, I won yet another! The odds of winning are 1 in 3, and I'm definitely doing better than that. Score.

This Saturday we're going to see the Dropkick Murphys. 1:00 p.m. show. We're boning up by listening to everything we currently have, and Joe is going to go to Newbury Comics and complete our collection so we can cram that in our ears too.

We're also seeing U2 this October, the day before our third anniversary. Don't ask how much the tickets were, because they were too much. I hope they do "Electrical Storm" so I can swoon and wobble like I do every time I hear that hot, humid, sexy, awesome song.


3.14.2005
Pathetically small victories
I just have to marvel for a second. If you're a low-carber, you know that it's more expensive to eat because you have to buy a lot of meats, cheeses, and fresh vegetables. But depending on what you buy, the cafeteria in my building can be such a great deal. Sometimes not--I've paid six bucks for soup just because I wanted some chicken in it. But today I was starving from my little breakfast and I went down and bought enough items to fill up my entire tray, and the total seemed like it had to be wrong, but it wasn't. This is what I got:
  • hamburger, no bun, with lettuce and tomato
  • 2 dill pickle spears
  • side of buffalo chicken salad with bleu cheese dressing from the salad bar (notorious for being expensive)
  • sugar-free jello with raspberries
  • 2 oz. packet peanuts (3:00 p.m. snack)
  • 32 oz. water
  • 20 oz. bottle Diet Pepsi
Total: $5.46

Granted the pickles and the water were free, but that's still pretty good. Plus I won another free iTunes song, for a total of 4 plus the one that Joe won. I already know at least one song I want to buy: Poison by Bell Biv Devoe. Word of advice, son: never trust a big butt and a smile.


Whatever happened to the 4-day work week idea?
On Saturday we had the grossest, messiest snowstorm. It was raining when we woke up but then it turned over to big fat wet snow, as if the temperature went from 32 to 32.5 degrees. Mardi and I went to the gym and then shopping, and we spent hours in the mall buying optimistic, cheerful items like a pink iPod mini (her), sunglasses (me), a bathing suit (her), spring clothes (me), and perfume (her). When we came out, the mall parking lot was a slush swamp four inches deep and rutted with tire tracks filled with brown water. My gym sneakers were no match. At home Joe and I cooked dinner, did laundry, and watched six episodes of The Office in a row.

Yesterday we went to dinner with my family to celebrate Lauren's birthday. 25, it's really hard to believe. Back at the ranch, we ended up looking through all the family photo albums. We all agreed that at certain times in his past, my dad has strongly resembled a Cuban drug lord. He denied it until we showed him the most incriminating evidence, a picture from 1982 of my family at a parade. It's got to be about 90 degrees because everyone looks wilted and miserable. He is standing hands on hips, wearing aviator shades and a white polo shirt with a wide blue stripe. He has longish hair, a deep tan, and a thick moustache. After he saw it he said, "Okay, I'll give you that one."

Today came way too fast... what can I say? It's Monday. I'm pretending I'm not really here.


3.08.2005
Aruba was awesome
Yeah, everybody hates us. The trip was, of course, everything we wanted it to be: warm, sunny, and relaxing. We languished on the beach, swam, explored the island in a jeep, read lots of books, ate leisurely meals, and had a lot of sex. We got home tan, happy, and serene.

Two days of work and a snowstorm have slapped the inner peace right out of me. Still have my tan though, and plan to keep it up by not-quite-natural means.


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