It was the worst of times, it was the best of times

My 25th birthday began in ugly fashion, as I drove 25 miles to work, only to realize that I'd left my laptop at home. I did a little work in the office, then decided to work from home for the rest of the day. After another 25 miles and a half-hour of trouble-shooting with the IT guy, I learned that I can't work from home under the current web connection configuration at 13 Pond. 25 more miles, and I'm standing at work in disbelief. I left my power source and internet cable at home. I borrowed a cable, and had enough power to get me through 4:30ish, when I made a few phone calls and gave up.

A few CD imports later, Jill came home with a wonderful picnic dinner of chicken tenders, various cheeses, breads, olives, and grapes, and a Corona, and all was well. We watched "Delovely," which was delightful, albeit dealittletoolong. I was also cheered up by birthday phone calls from Byron, Linda, Schwenker, Colleen (and Dad), Kristen (and Lauren), and Jason, and birthday emails/cards from Schroeck, Linda and Rich, Mom and Dad, Marge and Burt, and Kate. Thank you all for thinking of me.

By now, Kristen, Tyler, and Lauren should be on their way to Weston, where I look forward to meeting them at Sue and Don's tonight for another birthday dinner. Home repairs and Boston culture are also possibilities if time permits.


On holiday

It appears as though many non-Bluesocket companies still consider Presidents' Day a holiday, despite what passes for a President these days. I managed to cart myself through the snow and into work by 11:20 or so this morning, and after collections call after collections call keeps going unanswered, I'm thinking of taking off early too. On the way to work, I saw a Ford Explorer off the road, off the shoulder, and past the grassy expanse, teetering on the guardrail of the northbound lanes of Rte. 95, facing south. Not pretty.

In blogging news, I might take a cue from Mark and give thorough iPod update stats one of these days, although my collection pales in comparison to his, and will continue to do so, since BrainPod can only hold 20GB of music. I'm up to The Roots and importing at a steady clip.

In grill news, I picked up a grill at Heather and Adam's going away party on Saturday night. It was difficult to say goodbye, but all the party favors made the evening a little more enjoyable.

Happy birthday to Jill's grandmother, Grace (yesterday), Dad (today), and bmoconline himself (tomorrow). This week is big with birthday blessings.


No talking

I went to my first (and the last) Date Night at Heather's last night. Between Kate's "no talking during the OC" rule, Jill's "no talking during ER" rule, and Ranger's "no time spent without my chin on Bryan's lap" rule, those girls really know how to have fun. The food was excellent though, and I might have scored myself a grill at tomorrow's open house.

In work news, my commute has gone from a harrowing hour every day of my first week, to a consistently bearable 40 minutes in my third. Today I was able to drop off my dry cleaning, put 13 gallons of gas in my car, and still get to work in under 50 minutes. Not half bad.

I got my first birthday gift (at least that's what I assume it was- it didn't come with a note) last night, from some combination of my family and Jill. My dad framed the front page of the Boston Globe the day after the Red Sox won the World Series. The Red Sox won the World Series. The Red Sox won the World Series.

The Red Sox won the World Series.



We're home.

There's still a lot of work to do, but we're in. After a weekend of priming, painting, and floor cleaning, Jill and I moved the majority of her stuff to the first floor today, brought in an entertainment center, and set up the bedroom. As a reward, we also bought another newt, Cheese (which beat out such potential names as Mabel, Pickles, Dingers, Bronson, Murphy, Newton, Sprite, Gus, and runner-up Sophocles), to keep Pokey company.

The next few days will involve the moving of kitchen and office equipment, unpacking of books, CDs, and miscellaneous paraphernalia, more cleaning, and oodles of muscle relaxers. Oh, and my first Valentine's Day tomorrow. Uh oh.



I saw the World Series trophy today.
I had my picture taken with the World Series trophy today.
I touched the World Series trophy today.
I might have done inappropriate things to the World Series trophy today. I'm not sure. I got up at 6.

The best part of all: I didn't have to go to New York to do all this. The Bentley Alumni Association sponsored a lecture from Red Sox COO Mike Dee called "The Business of Baseball." Mr. Dee had all the intellingence and charisma I expected out of a Soc exec and more. After an hour of breakfast, networking (read: me talking to Brad), and pictures with the trophy, the keynote speaker talked about the World Series, the changing economics of baseball, and the future of Fenway Park, before opening the floor to questions, which were rewarded with Sox paraphernalia (the best question got 2 invaluable tickets to opening day [ok, they can be valued, probably in the $2,000-5,000 range]). The morning's final prize was a Kevin Millar game-used bat, which was awarded to the person whose name Mike chose at random from a list of attendees. Out of 200+ people in the crowd, he drew his own name first, followed by that of a goofball in a Nomah jersey who had just left the building, another guy who had just left, and finally a lucky winner.

In other news, music importing has resumed, as I bought an external hard drive and a USB hub so that I can store and upload music for the iPod. I also bought a car stereo adapter so that I can listen to the Pod on my way to and from work, so I dusted it off today and rocked out a little after the lecture. Once I find where I packed the cable that hooks it up to my home stereo, I'm back in business.


Bob Dylan's 116th Dream

In the right bed in the wrong room I dream
of cherries and flowers and plums hanging by threads
begging to be stripped
to reveal the paste beneath
and of holes to be spackled
and of primers and paints
and of splotchy sweatshirts and swollen thumbs
and before I wake up
in the right bed in the wrong room I realize
that I'm



A Super Weekend recap:

Friday- finished the biggest check run of my life, processing a month's worth of A/P in my first week, picked up my laundry, and went to work. Jill and I stripped almost all the wallpaper in the bedroom downstairs, which, despite being much more pliable than the paper in the kitchen, took us through around 2:30 am, when I cleaned up and went to bed and Jill moved back to the spots she had missed in the kitchen, finishing up around 4.

Saturday- got up a few hours after the stripfest, got in Jill's new car, stopped at Home Depot and the bank (I see most Saturday mornings for the rest of my life starting like this), and headed to Queensbury to babysit Lauren while Kris and Ty got some work done and went to a birthday party. Lauren is at an adorable age, when she's happy to see everyone, sleeps through (at least some) nights, and mimics everything anyone says (including suggestive baseball team allegiance conditioning). We all took a delightful two-hour nap and got to bed early.

Sunday- got up at 8, sans alarm (yes, this is 7 hours earlier than I'd normally wake up without an alarm), and caught up with Kristen for a little while before heading back to Framingham. After picking up some Super Bowl party supplies, we went back to work at home. Jill made 227 appetizers and cleaned the house while I stripped the remaining wallpaper and leftover paste, sanded the walls, cleaned the wood, swept the floors, and prepared the first floor to be shown to guests. People started showing up by 6, and by 10 the Pats were still champs and Melisa was $60 richer, thanks to the "4-1" square she'll never forget picking.

Monday- woke up even earlier, orchestrated a mass exodus of cars from the 13 Pond Street driveway, and got to work in 40 minutes, my quickest trip yet. I got my oil changed on my lunch break at Stephen's Motors in Burlington. While I learned that I'll most likely need two new tires very soon, I think I found a mechanic I trust for small repairs, which is a major plus. Tonight is laundry night, which means no home repairs and an early bedtime, if I play my cards right.


On better days

I promised a happier entry sometime this week. Here goes:

I don't have my bed and my clothes in the same apartment.
I don't have a familiar job with an easy commute.
I don't have all the time to do the things I want to do.

What I do have, however, is a girl who stayed up past 2 on Sunday night destroying her arms and hands with a heavy steamer, trying to strip wallpaper so that we can move in sooner. A girl who makes dinner for me almost every night, all the while juggling a full-time job, endless home repairs, and (until yesterday) a car that could hardly get out of the driveway. A girl who watches movies with me even though I fall asleep in the first half hour every time; who gets me gifts for occasions as trivial as the one-month anniversary of our firt date and my last day at the Library; who adopts calling the New York AL baseball team the Satans so as not to offend me; who suffered through scores of Scrabble losses before beating me (which she does more often now), but kept playing and obeying my "no touching during Scrabble" rule; who lets me make fun of her age but rarely makes fun of mine; who makes time for my family, and even time away from hers. A girl who puts up with my whining in futile hope that it will someday stop.

And the Red Sox are World Champions. I've got it pretty good.