Monday, December 27, 2010

A Flanagan Christmas

When it comes to making your Christmas list, and you are the youngest of nine kids, you AIM LOW. There is no Barbie Dream house and there isn’t an Atari on your list. You are smarter than that.

Growing up on Pond Street we had the best field in our neighborhood that had a huge hill….well at the time we thought it was huge….all the neighborhood kids would spend the whole day sledding…from early morning until dark…..we would make the sweetest jumps and would even drag pails of water from our houses to make icy, slick trails for our flexible flyers… you know the sleds that if you hit someone at the right angle you would slice off a finger.

My great idea that year for a Christmas gift was….skis….that way I wouldn’t have to share my sled with anybody. I would show up at the field with my sweet ass plastic "skis for kids" and WOW everybody…..I would imagine myself flying down the hill with ease as my friends sharing sleds would watch in awwwwe….

So I went home and told my mother that I wanted skis…not like Rossignol's or K2’s but like plastic kids ski’s we saw at Kmart, kid's skis, pretend skis.

On Christmas morning I thought for sure I would get my skis. I unwrapped every gift….. no skis. Then my Dad reached behind the tree for one more gift and it was for me!!! He threw it to me and I opened it quickly…tearing the paper from the box…tearing the box open to find the Sunday comics bunched up as stuffing... but nothing else. I said…”Mom it’s empty.” She said “No it isn’t keep looking” so I dug to the bottom of the box …..throwing the paper left and right…my brothers and sisters watching in sweet anticipation…..that’s when I found it….. at the bottom of the box…the words so neatly written like only a mother would…………. “Pretend Skis”

Friday, September 24, 2010

Ok It's been awhile.....

I got to the train after a nice long vacation…thinking for a minute that I may have missed it….but then walking up the escalator two people stood in front of me and road blocked me from walking up the escalator…just as something dripped on my head….what it was I have no idea because it wasn’t raining….then when I got to the platform I smelled what seemed to be a rotting dead pigeon……it was then it all came flooding back to me…..HATE.

I got to the last car where I always sit and took my seat. As I was waiting for the door to close and the bell to ring alerting us that the train was departing I noticed there was a rookie MBTA worker who was talking to an attractive girl in her early 20’s sitting diagonally across from me…she was sitting in her seat fiddling with her iPod while he stood by her trying to engage her in conversation…I was thinking great…so this is why we are going NOWHERE….I looked at her and then at him and I was like….ain’t gonna happen pal…move along…get this train moving…

He was chatting her up and he was acting all cool….the girl was smiling as they flirted back and forth….then the guy asked…all suave…. "What’s your name?”….she said “Luz”….then he said in true rookie style……. "Loose as in….Loose?”……………………FAIL!

Ding Ding…NEXT STOP QUINCY CENTER!

Thursday, May 27, 2010

Here's a story..of a lovely lady

I was sitting on the train minding my own business listening to some Hall and Oates (secretly) on my iPod…when across the way I noticed this young girl in her early twenties who looked exactly like Jan Brady….not like “Channel 56 rerun Jan Brady” but “The Brady Bunch Movie Jan Brady”….she had long blonde hair and it was pushed back with a head band….I watched as she pulled a pink "hello kitty" hand mirror out of her bag..and then searched through her bag to find her lip gloss…great….I get to watch her apply makeup…she opened the mirror and began to apply her "wet n’ wild" lip gloss in a nice frosty shade of pink while looking in the mirror…then when she was done she smiled a big scary smile in the mirror….like a girl possessed……..it didn’t end there.... she put the cap back on the lip gloss…closed her mirror and put them back in her bag only to pull out her matching...pink...."hello kitty" HAIRBRUSH!.......I thought to myself if Jan starts getting all “100 stroke Marcia” on her hair I am going to flip the hell out!....but she didn’t….she looked at her brush and began to CLEAN IT on the train….She slowly pulled strands of her long blonde hair out of the bristles with her perfectly painted pink nails and tossed them on the ground like she was pulling petals off a daisy….. I watched as the golden strands slowly floated to the dirty, sticky floor... there was a guy standing beside her who was so deeply involved in his book that he didn't realize that the hair balls that didn't make it to the train floor…. clung nicely to his stone colored dress pants….I thought…am I the only one who is seeing this? Sometimes I wonder if I'm in a Hydroxycut daze and that my late TVland marathons are starting to go to my head...because it clearly goes unnoticed by other passengers. Once she got all her hair out of the brush and onto the floor…. and on the passenger beside her ….she then removed a tissue from her bag and began to clean the bristles ONE by ONE……like she was polishing Mike and Carol’s Sterling Silver Anniversary Platter … INSANE!



Hey Lady Brady! Are you telling me that your life is that busy that the only time you have to clean your "hello kitty" hairbrush is on the train? From what I remember you never had that much of a social life. I mean after all your ONE boyfriend George Glass was IMAGINARY!....By the way isn’t it Alice’s job to keep everything neat and tidy? What would your mother think? Jan don’t get me wrong I love the Brady Bunch….but you my friend are only setting yourself up for one thing…..a BRADY PUNCH!

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Preaching in the Park

I am not much of a church go-er…..so let me tell you how friggin’ annoying it is to walk through Boston Common and listen to PREACHING!!!.....it’s amazing how people who find God choose to tell everyone else about it…OUT LOUD…in the middle of a park….at 9am…. it’s getting to the point that I am going to start carrying 40’s in my commuter bag…..I am sure walking up to one of these loud mouths with a nice frosty beer would get them to shut the hell up! .....besides loving METH…these guys also tend to be animal lovers….they love to feed the pigeons and squirrels…..Look! he’s like Jesus!.... feeding the masses…..of RATS.


I am all for people finding God…getting religious and joining a nice cult so they can leave Boston and live on a nice spacious ranch in the dessert surrounded by an electrical fence with plenty of Kool-Aid to drink….any place but here is fine with me….I don’t want to see you and I certainly don’t want to HEAR you! But this guy is there practically every day!...SCREAMING the word of God.

When I was on my way through the park today I discovered I could hear him loud and clear but I couldn’t see him….as I got closer I realized the guy had a friggin’ mic and was holding a little speaker in his arms. SERIOUSLY!!!!!??? They guy now has a SOUND SYSTEM???...Who gave him a sound system? The funniest part about it was watching him balance the speaker…..and the open bible…..while trying to preach into the mic….wait…..Shouldn’t he KNOW the bible by heart by now?


Hey DELIRIOUS DEACON! Do you think it is OPEN MIC night on the Common?....or do you just fear that your words are not being heard? Believe me they are HEARD and IGNORED!....we hear you say “Christ is Lord!” but what it really sounds like is “Christ! This guy is ca-razy!” …by the way FATHER “I NEED A FIX”…do you know how much meth you could get if you pawned that sound system?...just sayin’

Thursday, May 13, 2010

Same Day Same Dress

Did you ever have one of those mornings when you alarm goes off and you lay there in bed going through your Rolodex of “101 excuses to not go to work” in your mind?…..I usually watch the weather in the hopes that maybe Beacon Hill was swept away by a massive Tsunami….never happens…NEVER!.....I was having one of those mornings….well every morning is one of those mornings…it is probably because I live in a dungeon, a basement apartment with no light except for my little street level “Laverne and Shirley” window above my bed…..I can spend a day at home and never even know what the weather is or what time of day it is. …maybe I should start referring to it as my “bomb shelter” rather than my "dungeon"...People might think I offer services in my underground world, services that I just I don’t offer… (Insert sound of bullwhip here)… yet

After watching Meredith Vieira the “Cougar of morning TV” for about 20 minutes I slowly dragged myself out of bed….thinking to myself…what the hell am I going to wear today?.....I am a creature of habit….I like routine…but I have gotten a bit too “routine” with my clothing choices for work….to the point that my friend will call me at my desk and say “It’s Wednesday so I bet you are wearing your brown dress with the brown strappy heels”….which is when I tilt my head down to see I am…in fact…..wearing my brown dress with the brown strappy heels….as hard as I try to not fall into that cycle it never fails….you can always tell what day it is by what I am wearing…..

I always leave my TV on…it’s on while I sleep and it’s on until I leave the house in the morning…I like the noise…but it is also a huge distraction….and is probably the main reason why I am always running for the bus….I get all my news from the Today show….which means I tend not to know too much about what is going on in the world…only how far along Lauer has progressed with his hair plugs and how many times Ann Curry can say good morning in 30 seconds….I think her record is five…..I tried setting my clocks ahead to get me moving but…hello!!!.... I know they are set ahead and I always say to myself well its really 7 not 7:10 am so I have ten more minutes….hip hip hooray!......I need a bandit to sneak into my place and change all the clocks by setting them 20 minutes ahead without me knowing…it’s the only way it would work…..I showered and rushed to dress….throwing on my navy blue dress…which is always a bitch to zip up I just cannot reach it….ugh I fumbled with it getting it half way up and realized I had no idea where my shoes were….I live in an apartment the size of a postage stamp….you would figure I would know where everything was….I rummaged through my basket o’ shoes and found them and headed out the door….running to the bus stop.

I had an early meeting so when I got to the State House I made my way to my office tossed my coat on the coat rack and hauled ass to my meeting……I texted my friend to save me a seat……I got there just in the nick of time….out of breath I made my way through the rows of seats to my friend where I took a seat...one of my friends was sitting behind me and tapped me on the back…I was like....why can I feel a cold finger tapping between my shoulder blades?..........OMG! I never zipped up my dress!……I quickly tried my best to stretch my arms behind my back frantically trying to locate my zipper…my friend behind me quickly came to my rescue and zipped my dress. I was so embarrassed….I turned to my friend beside me who fought to hold back laughter in the room full of people….and he said “Rough morning?”…then he slowly looked at me...head to foot and said “Let me guess….its Thursday!”

Monday, March 15, 2010

Scratch and Sniff......

Don't think for one second that just because there is a "roof" and/or an "overhang" at a T stop that that means you won't get rained on.....for that is a total misconception.....in fact the exact opposite is true....you will be soaked.....its like you're standing under a hut made out of sticks and twigs....water cascading down.....on...your....head...I can imagine its like a great big car wash....washing all the pigeon poop down off the make shift roof and onto our heads..........fabulous!.....to make matters worse there was no train....so we waited and waited in the cold rain for 20 glorious minutes until the train finally arrived.......

When I got to Park Street I had zero tolerance for the stairs....so I took the escalator.....as I was approaching the escalator I noticed a guy in a fluorescent vest with a broom and dustpan in his hand....I then remembered the VOMIT!......but thought hey they must have cleaned it up by now....even if this guy works once a week....he must have noticed it and cleaned it up.......we got to the bottom of the escalator and I got on behind him.....and just beyond us....to the right.....I saw it......THE VOMIT!!.....IT WAS STILL THERE!.....but then I felt reassured after all he was the janitor....so I'm sure he was on his way up to clean it......as we got closer......he saw it.....and you know what he did?.......he took his broom free hand and TOUCHED IT.!!.......then he SMELLED IT!!!!.....you know what he did after that??? He went up to the top of the escalator and swept up cigarettes and pigeon feathers!

Hey Janitor Guy! Thanks for getting right on that! Way to prioritize.....its only been there a flippin' week...don't tell me its the first time you saw that....it looks like a crime scene out of CSI......let me guess you're not the "vomit cleaner upper"....you are the guy they send by to "evaluate" the situation.....did you really have to touch it....then smell it....to know that it was vomit??? .....and not fresh vomit but hard, dry, crusty vomit.....Really? Is that what they teach you in janitor school.....scratch and sniff?

Guess who is leaving a LOVE NOTE at the escalator tomorrow????

Monday, March 8, 2010

One Day at a Time

Did I really say that I was happy to be back last week?...that I missed riding the bus and the train?....really?....well I just got a nice bitch slap from reality this morning. Although the morning started out ok….I didn’t have to dress like I was making a trip the Arctic Circle so that was pretty sweet….the bus ride wasn’t so bad….no one pissed me off…..and the train wasn’t packed and the ride was pretty uneventful…..until of course I got to Park Street Station….now I have been trying to set some goals for myself recently and one of them was that I wasn’t going to take the escalator up to the street anymore….I was going to take the stairs…..but then I thought “baby steps’…or more like LAZY STEPS….so I took the escalator….one day at a time right?...like how about Tuesday….that works for me…..I turned up my iPod…if there is one thing I can’t stand it is running into someone from work who wants to “talk shop” on the way up the Hill…..loud music in my ears allows me to ignore them...nicely.

I made my way through the mass of people to the FAT TRAM……"Journey" was playing so I was more into “Don’t Stop Believing” then anything else….until of course I reached the bottom of the escalator and got on….and that was when I saw it…..right to my right…..running between the handrail and the wall……was a nice dried up river of PUKE! This river ran the whole way down the escalator…… Seriously!?!......Like isn’t there someone is charge of cleaning up puke? I mean even Dunks has a kid who is charge of mopping up puke!

The only thing that came to mind as to how this could happen is this….somebody spent their “spare change” on a mother lode of crystal meth of maybe a couple of bottles of Boons Farm…..and I am guessing they had enough “change” left over to hit the local Burger King for a meal deal…..from what I can see he got the chicken parm sandwich….hold the fries……..before he spewed his guts on the escalator….apparently he didn’t make it to the Dunks at the top of the escalator as he had hoped.....if there is one person that should be taking it "one day at a time" it's this guy....ROOKIE. Needless to say I will be taking the stairs from now on…..

Winter at Rockwell's Pond

When I was a kid living on Pond Street in Leominster, I can remember riding by Rockwell’s Pond on the school bus, peeking out the window as I pressed my nose against the cold foggy glass, hoping and praying that the ice was finally frozen and safe to skate on. All the neighborhood kids would wait in sweet anticipation for our frozen playground to take form. When the ice was finally ready, and the word was out, we wasted no time. We would rummage through our attics or basements for our skates. Some of us didn’t even need skates. We just wanted to hit that ice before anyone else did. All the kids would meet up at the corner of Newton and Pond and make our way down the street with our skates thrown over our shoulders. The cold air would hit our cheeks, causing them to tingle when we laughed. The boys would juggle their skates, a shovel, and their hockey sticks dreaming of skating like Bobby Orr. The girls would imagine spinning on the ice like Dorothy Hamel; after all we all had her haircut. The snow covered street would be quiet and still except for our giggles, and the clickity-clack of the blades of our skates hitting each other as we trudged along on the unshoveled sidewalk.

When we finally made it to Rockwell’s Pond we began shoveling to mark our territory. Our parents couldn’t get us to shovel the driveway, but when it came to claiming our ice, we shoveled like mad. The older kids would still be in bed at this time, so we didn’t have to worry about them dominating the ice and forcing us to play goalie, which often meant target practice for them, and bruises for us. Once we were done with clearing the ice we would lace up our skates, but we never seemed to tie them tight enough, not like a Dad or an older brother would. That only left us with burning ankles, but somehow we suffered through it. Our dull blades would glide slowly over the rough bumps of the ice until we got the hang of skating again. Slowly other kids would begin to arrive, setting up make-shift goals, and other kids would gather hoping to get to play some hockey. We would skate until the street lights came on, hands frozen and toes numb. It felt good to unlace our skates and let our achy feet free. We would then gather our gear, exhausted and hungry, and make our way back home, too tired to talk, but each one of us wondering what was for supper that night. There was nothing better than seeing the warm lights of your mom's kitchen glowing in the dark as you made your way through the icy night to your door, your mittens frozen stiff, your nose running from the cold. Walking through the kitchen door you found sweet relief as the warmth of the kitchen enveloped you, the chill of the day forgotten. Only to do it all over again the next day.

Thursday, March 4, 2010

When life hands you a Lemon....

I finally went back to work on Tuesday. What a relief! Which is why I have not written in an eternity….because if I don’t take the stupid train or the lamo bus I have nothing to write about…..sad but true...I do miss work when I'm not there....not because I love to work… but because I live in a basement apartment....ALONE….think “Laverne & Shirley” where the ONLY thing they can see out the ONLY window in their apartment is the feet of people walking by…. Except...well... like I said it’s just me…no Laverne…no Shirley…and no Boo Boo kitty….So you see if I don't go to work I don't see sunlight, let alone see people or talk to people. I never felt so bad about it until I was watching an old episode of "30 Rock" when Liz Lemon decided that she didn’t need a social life or a stupid boyfriend…..until....she was home late one night….alone as usual…..having a snickity snack… and choked in her apartment…..she scurried around her kitchen trying to figure out how to give herself the Heimlich….luckily with the help of a kitchen chair she survived!....but after watching that I was like…WTF am I going to do if I choke at home alone?...I would most certainly die and be wouldn’t be found on the floor in my apartment for weeks!....Well if I do choke and I'm found dead I hope (a) I was eating something healthy like a carrot, or maybe a protein bar and not laffy taffy and (b) I hope I have clothes on!


It was good to be back.....and out of my cave. Well at least I survived another night without choking to death…thank God! I made my way to Dunks….I needed coffee so bad!....as I was riding up the escalator I thought about my sad, pathetic, "Liz Lemon" life…. .until I reached the doorway at Dunks…. where one of the employees was busy scrubbing the door and walls of the entry way with a large, soapy, brush in the freezing cold……I thought to myself....my life can't be that sad and pathetic......could be worse....I could have been the one who projectile vomited at dunks for all to see....or I could be the sorry ass guy cleaning it up. I love my Liz Lemon Life!

Saturday, February 20, 2010

Busted!

Look what I came home to last night.....looks like someone found another glove to love.....

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

The Red Light is on....and the Madame is in

When I got to the train it wasn’t too bad…vacation weeks are usually less crowded…I sat in my usual seat and listened to some tunes…when we got to Quincy this woman came and sat next to me….well practically ON ME…she was a bit “hefty”…she was an older woman….and very apologetic as she sat on my lap…but I didn’t seem to mind…she seemed nice…yeah I just said NICE….she was wearing a nice camel coat and a scarf she probably knitted herself….considering she had yarn needles and yarn sticking out of her quilted Vera Bradley bag…..This woman got nice and comfy…and when I say comfy I mean I was merely a cushion…a favorite pillow…I really didn’t mind so much because she was wearing Chanel No. 5, which coupled with her oldness reminded me of my mother……until…….she took out her romance novel with a half naked woman on the front and a Native American on a sweaty horse…I mean we all know what she is reading…does SHE know that WE know she is reading words like “bulging manhood” and “glistening bosom”?...let’s be serious here….romance novels are really porn for the “reserved”….let me guess you read it for the story line, and because it’s an easy READ, and not the fact that women are EASY and always get kidnapped by Native American warriors only to get RAVAGED in a tee pee…it reminded me of grade school when one of my girlfriends...I won't name names........(Bernice)......got a copy of the book “Forever” by Judy Bloom…it was about getting it on for the first time and the first person that read it went through and marked all the pages with the dirty parts…made for easy reading…I learned a lot from Ms. Bloom…..

Hey Dirty Diana!…I am on to that dirty mind of yours! It’s not a secret….we know what happens when a woman is left alone by her cowboy husband…who is off herding cattle for months at a time!....throw in a couple ranch hands and a housekeeper and it sounds like the making of the perfect porno…which means I only have one thing to say to you “Madame Memere’”….when exactly is that book coming out on DVD?

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Snow blows!

I had my son pretty young and was lucky enough to be able to live at home with my parents so they could help me raise him. My son spent a lot of time with my Dad. My Dad retired by the time Jake was born so he had more free time. So Jake was always in the garage with him....he learned the parts of an engine before he was ten, and knew how to run a snow blower by the age of eight. My Dad basically treated him like one of the guys. There would be times when my 11 year old didn't understand why I wouldn't let him drive to the grocery store because well...."Big" (he used to call my Dad, "Big Chief") always let him....he also could swing an axe and use the log splitter before he was 12…..needless to say he was my “little man”…..

Today with the anticipated snow…it made me think of the days when my son would be out for hours with my Dad running the snow blower or the plow truck helping to clean the sidewalks and driveways of our elderly neighbors…..one day Jake came in from the snow…..drudged through the drifts onto the porch and into the kitchen….he was cold and MAD!......apparently my Dad had yelled at him for something….so my mother said to him…draw a picture about it….you know to keep him occupied and to chill him out…..this is what he drew….. (notice how Jake even included my Dad's key ring that he always had attached at his hip)


Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Hop on the bus Gus...no need to discuss .......Anything!

I got out to the bus this morning thinking there was a pretty good chance I missed it… because it’s Monday…..even though I had about twelve hours of sleep last night…..only because after the "Vengeful Vixens Marathon" on Lifetime was all over there was nothing to watch but flippin’ football…. Thanks, but NO thanks …having had an older brother that played football his whole flippin’ life I have lost about 1/3 of my life to that sport already….time to waste my life on something else….and I'm open to some suggestions......when I got to the curb I saw a guy standing at the bus stop…this is good and bad…GOOD because it is clear evidence that I did not in fact MISS the bus…woo hoo!…BAD because that means he is probably going to want to talk to me….they usually start with the weather…then the bus schedule talk…..two things that if they ever came up on a date I would only have one thing to say….Check please!….but since I am not on a date….it’s more like ….Bus please!

This guy had a dress sweater on and a dress shirt….and pants obviously….(But knowing the sketch balls I run into every day I thought I should clarify)....but that was it…this guy was clearly out of his mind….no coat..no hat.....no gloves.....he sort of looked like the choir teacher from Glee.....but younger......it is always young guys pulling this shit….its proves one of two things….he is trying to be manly….”I DON’T NEED A JACKET I AM A MAN!” (insert Tim Allen gorilla sounds)….or he is trying to show that he clearly can’t take care of himself and needs a girlfriend/mother to save him from himself…or at least H1N1. My guess is the latter.....HEY GUY Men drive trucks they don't take buses.....honestly I would rather be at the bus stop with Blondie…because at least she entertains me…..plus she probably throws off some serious heat at a cold bus stop…and could block the wind if I hovered behind her at just the right angle.

When I got to the corner he said..."Good morning, boy is it a cold one" obviously wanting to point out his coatless manliness....….I was like...I'll bite......"Yeah I guess when you don’t own a coat"….he was like "I own a coat I just didn’t wear it….the only thing that is cold are my ears” he said with his boyish twinkle…..and he had ears!.....more like handles if you ask me….he was not a typical "bus guy" .....you could tell...because he wouldn't be wearing those nice shoes, his mother probably bought him on the flippin' bus.....he wouldn't have a smile on his face.....and he wouldn't be talking to me like he had diarrhea of the mouth....he then asked...."When does the bus arrive 8:38?"......I figured I had to reply since the fact that I already made a wisecrack to the kid proving I was not (a) deaf, or (b) mute....damn it!......"The bus gets here when you see it come around that corner"...I said as I tilted my head quickly to the left....not once taking my eyes off my blackberry....this one make take a few mornings before he figures out I'm the “angry non-talker”....Hey DAPPER DAN THE LADIES MAN….let me just bring you up to speed....there is no “chit chat” at the bus stop....not about the weather, not about the bus, and certainly not about any body parts, cold, hot or otherwise......and by the way since you don’t have a COAT to zip….why don’t you start by zipping your LIP...

Monday, February 8, 2010

Smell ya later.....

This morning I forgot my scarf....which is crazy considering how the other day it saved my flippin' life. When I got on the train the other day I was running a bit late...so I just hopped on the closest car to the escalator...I got on and it was pretty empty except for one other person. I sat near the end of the car...less seats = less people....I sat in my seat on the end as usual so I would only have to deal with one idiot rubbing up against me....then it happened.....Captain Smelly Pants came in....and sat down just two seats away from me. This guy was RIPE!.....I immediately held my breath....and looked to the only other guy on the train...and thought...wait for it...wait for it....and then it hit him...eyes went wide and he shook his head like he had just woken from a dream...probably a good smelling dream.....neither of us moved. It's insane!..... What suddenly I have a heart? I don't want to hurt smelly guys feelings?......just then I thought...hey he doesn't know me...this isn't the usual car I sit in....I can ditch this smelly death dungeon and never see him again....so I began to pick up my bag....ding ding.....doors closed....I was like great...so this is the kind of day I am going to have...I pulled my scarf from the inside of my coat and wrapped it around my face....so far so good....I mean it was the kind of smell you could possibly taste if you let your mouth fall open for too long.

With each stop the car began to fill up..... but not the seat next to Captain Swamp Ass. There were two attempts...one young girl who got on the train saw the seat and immediately bolted to it....thinking she struck gold!...then she realized...maybe not...and got up as quickly as she sat down. Now Smelly Guy never noticed any of this because he was taking a nice morning snoozer.....it was fun to watch people get on and immediately you would see their nose crinkle and they would look around to see the root of all evil....then they would find him...then they look for someone to make eye contact with to confirm it....raised eye brow to raised eye brow....and then they would exit stage left....then there was this one guy standing in front of me who decided to sit next to him....he sat...he sat...and then stood with a hard swallow...you know that he threw up in his mouth...just a little...meanwhile I'm nice and dry heave free under my scarf....thank God for Gain!...until I was so wrapped up in my ipod that I was feeling a little warm under my scarf and forgot about the smell...I moved my scarf off my face and it hit me hard......I began to dry heave...I couldn’t help it...I grabbed my scarf over my face and I did my best to disguise it as a cough...my eyes were watering hard.....lucky for me my sister wasn’t on the train with me...because all she needs to hear is the "dry heave" sound and we have lift off!....thank God I didn’t puke....reason number one why one should not ingest liquids or solids before the morning commute because there is a slight chance you may hurl....we finally arrived at Park street and I never saw people clear a train quicker....I made it up to the Dunks and saw one of my friends in line...we began to chat....and then she said to me with a crinkled nose......what on earth is that smell?????......grrreeeatttt now I am the smelly one!

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Do you have any spare change?

One of the great things about Boston is the people who beg for change…..they are ALL over the place. I understand it’s not funny to be homeless….or be in so dire need of cash that you would beg for it….in the cold…on the street…I get that…but if I am going to be handing out cash I am going to seek out the guy who is working for it…..kinda like the strip club…you are not gonna hand your hard earned dollars to a chick that is just walking around the stage looking pretty….there is a pole there for a reason….work for it….same thing applies if you’re trying to skim some cash off me in Boston Common. There are basically four guys that beg for change that stand out…. Newscaster Guy, Snoop Dog, the Straight Shooter and Spare Change Guy (I know creative name) .

“Newscaster Guy”….he gets change….maybe even a couple of bucks if I am coming from my satellite office, also known as the bar…..this guy will give you weather reports….tell you to bundle up…or expect rain….he also will yell out sports scores if the Sox, Bruins, Celts or Pats are playing…he has a little transistor radio that he listens to….sometimes he will even put on a show for you….one time as I was passing through the Common during the warm summer months…..I came across Newscaster Guy and he was wearing a Cat in the Hat suit…..that was when he won me over….that takes some balls or maybe just a little crack…there he stood in the common at his usual spot….tall red and white hat….dancing….whenever I saw that I was like finally some entertainment!....I am sure the three martini’s I had previously helped me to appreciate his skills….but I can honestly say whenever I see this guy…he gets paid.

“Snoop Dog” is a completely different character…..but I like this guy…..he is old school…he holds a metal can…like an empty soup can…no label…all metal….he is usually sitting down on the sidewalk…he will take the can in his hands and tap it on the ground……while he sings…..Drop it like it’s hot…drop it like it’s hot….yeah talk about getting a song stuck in your head….when I see Snoop I am singing that song for like five days…..

My favorite one out of this bunch is “Straight Shooter”…straight shooter carries a cardboard sign that reads….”I am not going to LIE I am going to spend your money on BOOZE”….THIS IS MY GUY…..it’s almost like I feel his pain….he wants a cold one…hell, he will even take a warm one….he just wants one….I am all for contributing to a good cause….finally a campaign I believe in!….I gave that guy a fin…..I wasn’t the only one…he was raking in some serious cash…..




Everyone knows “Spare Change Guy” because he irritates the hell out of everyone…..he likes to stop traffic….get in your face and ask you about your sex life…..all the while yelling in his scratchy ear piercing voice….”Do youuuuuu have any SPAAARRE channnnnge?”…..this guy has a following…and I kid you not…..he has a Myspace…he has a theme song….he has been on Fox 25 and he even has a ringtone… ….one of the young kids at the state house made a point to record him on his phone and he now uses his “Do you have any spare change?” as a ringtone…...the one good thing about his eardrum busting song is that you can hear him coming……so you know when to switch sidewalks…..needless to say he gets no change from me.

When I say he has a following it’s not a joke…

Please see the sidebar to the right and follow a link to some live "Spare Change Guy" footage. He is also on Facebook...I cannot provide a link to his page so if you want to see it you can just search for Spare Change Guy on Facebook.


Do we really need to make it convenient for people to purchase shaving needs on the T? Is that what I am going to have to deal with? People shaving on the flippin' train? ............Great.

Saturday, February 6, 2010

The search for gLove continues......



NOT A MATCH :(
SORRY BUDDY



You guys think I joke about this shit....

Friday, February 5, 2010

All the single ladies...

Apparently there is no shaking Blondie....she is on the bus even if I mix it up and take a later one or an earlier one...it's like who is stalking who?....and since I'm the one writing about her ever day like a scorned lover then I guess the evidence is stacked against me....let's just say I won't be taking any photos of her in the off chance she's found dead at the bottom of a barrel of clam chowder at a food festival for I could be to blame!!!!

When I got on the bus today she was sprawled across the handicap seats as usual....she was sportin' her ray bans...but she had her eyes closed...the sun was pouring in through the window onto her big round body and her tight Lee jeans...she seemed to be enjoying the glow....on the bus mind you..in front of strangers...she looked like she was meditating or willing her phone to ring....you decide....I thought to myself that would be the day that I closed my eyes on the bus...insanity!.....well I guess she's safe.....since as my son used to say "fat kids are harder to kidnap"

Within minutes she was on the phone.....she made a call because apparently she couldn't "will" her phone to ring....I wonder if she notices that I stare at her and write about her haha....anyway....she was talking about going to a friend's wedding and how she was going to catch the bouquet.....I thought....Blondie? Single? No way!.......then I thought I bet she's one of those hard core bouquet catchers......she probably has a strategy...a couple of elbows to the chest....step on a few toes....take one or two bitches down....then snatch that bouquet and wedded bliss is just days, months, years a lifetime away.....when I'm forced to go out on that damn dance floor for the bouquet toss at one of my "sucker" friends weddings.....that thing falls at my feet. It's like friggin' kryptonite....I'm not going for it...I had a repeat wedding and there is NO need for a three-peat....maybe that's why Blondie packed an Olympic lunch....maybe she's in training for the big toss.....her lunch had its own seat right next to her for crying out loud...we got to Braintree station...and as we got off the bus there was some sand and she slipped a bit...kinda cartoonish...and I thought here it is....the moment I've been waiting for.....Blondie is gonna eat some pavement....sweet....but unfortunately she was able to regain her balance....I'm sure the weight of her "lunch of champions" helped out....this is just living proof my friends, weebles wobble...but they don't fall down.

Thursday, February 4, 2010

A look back at my resolutions....


I made some resolutions on New Years Eve...but then over the days that followed I made a few adjustments....so here are my resolutions "as amended"....which I will now consider my New Years Resolutions for 2010...

You can click on it for a better view..


Road the train with Peter Griffin tonight.
Yeah this is my view. People on my flippin’ lap. Crotch Parade!

Next Stop...CHINATOWN!

I'm already going to hell and the worst part is...it will probably be on the express train or even worse the express bus... so at this point I figure I can say whatever the hell I want especially since I laugh at myself all the flippin' time because let's be honest when it comes to idiots, it takes one to know one, and as much as people irritate the hell out of me, I'm sure there has been more than one occasion where I have irritated the hell out of someone...mostly my family...mostly my sisters....but I'm sure a fair share of strangers as well....I can dish it out, and most of the time take it....as long as I didn't already take in three martinis….I promise I won't take it personal and I won't throw punches.

Traveling on the red line I am the minority....traveling through Quincy is like traveling through Chinatown. I was on the bus today and I sat next to an Asian woman.....I will tell you why I like to sit next to Asian women….. because they are more likely than not always smaller...actually tiny….which means more room for my fat ass....I sat down and all was great until she took out her phone....you know my issues with idiots talking on their cell on the bus and/or train....it's flippin' annoying!!!! Well there is only one thing more annoying!!! People who talk on their cell phone in CHINESE!!!!!!!..... Ok well maybe there is like one time the Chinese language is not annoying....and that's like at 2am after last call at the Singapore when your ordering enough chicken fingers and spare ribs to sink a small ship...and you’re wondering why the guy behind the counter can't understand you when you talk.....apparently he's not fluent in YOUR language.... DRUNK!....which is one language my friends, which I speak fluently……I can tolerate the Chinese language then...and only then…actually I've probably made comments about what a beautiful language it is while knee deep in scorpion bowls and mai tais….. But on a bus at 9 in the morning…before I have my coffee....listening to her yackity yack yack ……..I felt like I was in the middle of a Chinese market...she talked so fast and so high....my head began to spin....and then I thought....grrreaaatt she's probably talking about the fat white chick who just sat next to her who is out of breath and smells like peanut butter toast....we got to Braintree and made our way to the train……I sat down and then I realized I forgot my damn peanut butter and jelly on the kitchen counter…..damn it! I hate it when that happens!...I guess that just leaves one option for lunch……CHINESE!

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

We work hard for our money...


This is a sign that hangs over an entrance of the building I work in…..the MAIN entrance of the building I work in….the main entrance of the STATE building I work in…the main entrance of THE state building I work in…the main entrance of the STATE HOUSE….obviously it’s not the entrance I use….I use the VIP Hooker Entrance.

I miss my glove

Irish Breakfast

I missed TWO busses today….TWO!...that requires skill…or serious LACK of skill…you decide….I swear my mother named me Kate for one reason….and one reason only..it rhymes with LATE…..you would figure by missing two busses that I would manage to avoid Blondie….think again! I got on and there she was….wearing RAY BANS!....you know, like Bruce Willis used to wear…..she kills me…..she had her phone out and as I sat down she began to dial….tap tap tap…beep beep beep….how about slap slap slap …PUNCH PUNCH PUNCH…yeah I have a feeling I could do some serious damage to those Ray Bans….SNAP!

When we got to Braintree station I lost Blondie to the concession stand….nothing like a snickers at 9am….I hauled ass up the escalator and just made it as the train gave its final warning ..ding ding…I sat down gasping for air….I think my regimen of not running, watching MTV and eating Easy Mac for dinner is really working out for me…..by the second stop I realized there was no heat on my car….but I am sure the idiot in the driver’s seat with “MBTA” written across his chest was nice and toasty as he sent text messages to his baby momma….but I figured shivering would distract me from any, and all idiots on the train…..until I got to Quincy Center and ran into one of Quincy’s finest….I smelt him before I spotted him… He was standing beside me holding on to the pole next to me….he was a decent enough looking guy….wearing a nice Irish cap….dress coat….had a red beard…and sunglasses..he held that pole with a kung fu grip….that poll was holding this guy up…he was hurtin’…he clearly had one fun night that ended with one rough morning…

He reminded me of Sunday morning breakfast with my family growing up…my brothers would get up after a wild Saturday night out…sometimes getting my brothers to the table would require the use of my mother’s alarm clock….my mother had two alarm clocks…one was what you might want to consider the “radio” wake up….you know, it was subtle…she would take the handle of a broom and bang it hard as hell on the kitchen ceiling, which just happened to be right below the boys room, which was right underneath my brothers beds….if they were too stupid enough, or too hung over to get up after that…she would then use the “buzzer” which was less subtle….the buzzer was when my mother would take the metal water pitcher from the table and would fill it with ice water…and let it sit a bit to get nice and cold…and then she would walk up the stairs to their room and pull off their sheets and pour it on their toasty, warm, sleeping, snoring, bodies …GOOD MORNING!!!!!!!!.....Reason Number 1 why the girls never drank and were always at the table!

So here he was...the perfect example of DUI guy….now if he didn’t hustle to the T in a huffy this morning he is about three weeks out from doing it that’s for sure…Hey BIG IRISH! Good luck at work today…what’s that cologne you’re wearing? …Jameson? or Johnny Walker? ….you should be a real hit with the ladies at the office…after all if it’s one thing we ladies are looking for it’s a guy with ambition! And there’s nothing like a guy who drinks likes it’s his job and he’s working hard toward a promotion!

Monday, February 1, 2010

I'm ready for my close up

Mondays blow….plain and simple….I got up this morning and like every other morning I could not find anything to wear…. one would think that I had all day Saturday and Sunday to figure that out….yeah ok…you know how much television I had to catch up on?.....so not even knowing what the damn temperature was outside I picked a dress…because it requires less matching…I threw on some tights and boots and I was good to go…until I went outside and got bitch slapped by Father Winter….a dress was a poor fashion choice…especially with no damn gloves to keep my hands warm…I walked to the bus stop and stood there like…you guessed it a stripper just getting of her shift….well an old, over weight stripper…..I hate waiting for the bus in a dress….Braintree Tradesman driving trucks…idiots….horn check!.....

I watched as this guy in a BACK PACK crossed the street to the bus stop…he started talking to me immediately….great I thought….a TALKER WITH A BACK PACK….and I’m freezing my ass off…..he was talking about the weather…HEY AL ROKER! Why don’t you keep your weather report to yourself…I have no interest in what you have going on in “your neck of the woods”…so shut it!

The bus finally arrived …I got on and there she was…..double wide, bottle blonde and she was wearing aviator glasses….and was playing with her phone…I thought to myself…if that thing rings she done…she probably has it out just to screw with me…she’s was “willing it” to ring I just knew it….it never rang…otherwise I would have been writing this from jail.

I didn’t really know I made a poor fashion choice this morning FOR REAL until my bus ride home tonight. Now on the bus ride in I got to sit down. But on the bus ride home I had to stand because it is always packed. The thing is when you wear a sweater dress and tights…the sweater dress tends to RIDE up your legs…add a wool jacket to that equation and you have clothes that pretty much want to come off all by themselves….so there I was standing on the bus getting pushed around and I reached for the bar above me to hang on… and as I did my coat clung to my dress and dragged it up almost completely above my ass and then static cling was nice enough to step in and hold it in place for a good.. I don’t know three stops….until I felt someone graze my “black tight” covered ass….Great I thought…did I just feel a brief case on my ass?....OMG I just brought “T Perv” to a whole new level….So now I am wondering who the hell is writing about me on their damn Facebook tonight…and I pray to God they didn’t have a flippin’ picture phone.

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Reasons NOT to try to pick men up on the train...

There was a COVER GIRL on the T this morning. Applying make-up in front of everyone…pisses me off…I just think it’s rude….but the college girls use the train as their personal powder room all the time…every time I see them take the mascara wand out and lift it to their eye I pray for a bumpy ride…never happens…I am all for someone losing an eye on the train…especially a COVER GIRL…the reason is this….there is no reason to look good on the train…there is no one to impress Miss Seventeen…I promise you…this is not the Regal Beagle….there is no happy hour…and there are no men worth the loss of vision to look beautiful….here is why there are no worthy men on the train….

1. Chances are if he is on the Red Line….he doesn’t have a car. Hello…he is taking the T for a reason.

2. He may say he cares too much about the environment to own a car. That sounds believable until you find out he is a shift manager at the Subway on Tremont. Yeah the environment…ok.

3. There is a good chance he probably got busted for a DUI and he rode his kid neighbors Huffy to get to the T so he doesn’t lose his job at Subway.

4. There is a slight chance he might be homeless. Check for layers. Is he wearing three shirts and a coat? How about his socks? Is he sporting like four pair? You might also want to check if his “commuter bag” looks like it was designed by Hefty. If so…bad sign!

5. An attractive Professional looking guy? Well don’t get excited. He just got dropped off by his wife who was driving the Volvo with his two kids in the back seat and chances are she is on her way to the gym to TEACH pilates.

6. Another reason why an attractive professional would be on the train? He has a car, probably a nice one, and its parked in his reserved spot in the garage, at his office building….he probably told the wife he had to pull an “all nighter” last night…when in fact the “all nighter” wasn’t spent with a group of co-workers in a conference room, but at his secret boyfriends house on Wollaston Beach.

See COVER GIRL….there is no reason to even brush your hair when you step foot on this trolley of train wrecks….well wait I AM NOT a train wreck….I simply take the T so I can have material for my blog..has nothing to do with that fun filled night at Marina Bay last September when I rear ended my good friend in the parking lot, and totaled my Saab all while using my phone to update my Facebook…and I bet you thought I didn’t have a car because I cared about the environment.

Saturday, January 23, 2010

Bird Feeder



Here is my favorite guy….the guy who feeds the damn pigeons everyday…you know right around rush hour in the morning….these rats with wings actually protect this guy….…..probably because he feeds them…if you get anywhere near the guy and his “feed” the birds will attack….nothing like dodging disease infested flying rodents before you even have your morning coffee…..there are 500 acres in the Boston common….but this guy likes the busiest corner…..I hate pigeons….hate them….they have no fear….they don’t move when you move…or if they do….they go for your face every time….



...nothing like looking like a crazy lady swarming at a flock of pigeons….not my best look…..so I am thinking now that a paintball gun would be a good investment….I could use it for punks who beep their horns too early….and to take out pigeons….sniper style….sorry “bird” lovers.

Friday, January 22, 2010



Jungle Jim. I say Jim because SHE is a HE.....and I can tell you she looked better than I ever could....what caught my eye most was the fact that she stretched herself across the aisle....grabbing the bar above my head and the bar across the aisle...and stretching! All I can say is it's against the RULES!!!!...but the men on the train completely ENJOYED her...I do not tell a lie. YOU GO GIRL!

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

XYZ....

Some punk was nice enough to wake me before my alarm this morning….blowing his damn horn like an idiot….I love that!.....one of the bonuses of living on a main street in the beautiful town of Braintree….but it makes me want to buy eggs and sit on my roof and peg cars that beep their damn horn for no reason….well maybe when the weather gets warmer….and I lose my fear of heights ….and if I can actually learn how to throw something past ten feet……ok so maybe egging cars isn’t the answer….but I could buy a paintball gun and snipe those horn blowers from my window…..wait can a blog be used in court as evidence?

When I was getting ready for work I couldn’t watch the news for obvious reasons…..this DAMN ELECTION!...so I watched “Sabrina the Teenage Witch” instead……much more entertaining……although she does make me wish for magical powers to teleport myself to work every day….but then again, if I did that, what would I have to make my life miserable and cause me to bitch incessantly.

I saw something I had never seen before on the train this morning….a guy with his fly down….he didn’t look like the kind of sketch that would do this ON PURPOSE…you know.. for fun…we get warned about guys like that on T posters…beware PERVS on the T!......well at least this guy was not going commando…..but still…....I wondered if anyone else noticed this man…STANDING for all to see….reading his “Rolling Stone” …..totally oblivious to the fact that his barn door was WIDE open….normally one could make eye contact with a stranger and give them the ol’ raised eyebrow look….ya know like if you got a bat in the cave…someone might touch their nose with their finger to give you the heads up….like hey you…you got a hanger…take care of it….but these rules do not apply on the train because…… eye contact is shunned upon….and you sure as hell don’t want to talk to anybody….but what it is one to do when you have a guy standing by your side with his skivvies hanging out his front door?.....

HEY Joe Boxer!…..Boxers or Briefs?….looks like we all know the answer to that question…THANKS for sharing!....but some things my friend…should remain a mystery…..and FYI every woman knows you sure as hell weren’t too busy washing your hands to forget to zip up….. so perhaps the next time you leave the house maybe you should “XYZ”…that’s code for “eXamine Your Zipper” pal!

Monday, January 18, 2010

Insta-Fam!

I have been sucked in…..that’s the only way I can explain it...I watched five straight episodes of “Teen Mom” yesterday……not sure how that happened…..must of been due to the fact that I have seen the same damn “Keeping up with the Kardashian’s” episodes for the past five weeks…….I could act them out in my living room for crying out loud……that must be the reason why I decided on Teen Moms….yeah I am sure this says a lot about my full social calendar….that I don’t have…..

I love how MTV chose Teen Moms from different backgrounds……some of these girls are ok…..like Maci for instance….she seems to be a great girl….has her priorities straight…but she’s shacking up with the ass lick Ryan….OMG! I want to choke this guy…..but he IS the typical Teen Dad….sorry but it is true…..I can’t believe she goes back to the schmuck!......I mean it would take a hell of a lot more than “Welch’s Sparkling Grape Juice”, on a pretty blanket, in the middle of the park to get me to go back to that loser……try Tequila, in a cabana, in Vegas…..or maybe a shot gun….

The other half decent girl is Catelynn this girl has some serious guts….she gave her baby up for adoption…..why?....because she had a shitty life, with shitty parents, and she knew that all she would be able to offer that child was……a shitty life!......that was the hardest episode to watch…..(Yeah I watched it when it was “16 and Pregnant”……I have no social life remember and these girls are getting more ass then me!) I hope this girl pulls herself together and does something fantastic with her life…..and when she is successful I hope she doesn’t do a damn flippin’ thing for her loser parents……

The other two bitches are the ones that make me want to write to friggin’ MTV and suggest they have a Teen Mom Special where old Teen Moms like me go in there and straighten those bitches out!.....just give me 5 minutes with these selfish … little…..gggrrrrr….you catch my drift?……This one fat, lazy, stupid, bitch, Amber makes me want to put my hand through a wall….all she does is friggin’ whine and cry and scream in front of her baby……..she needs to be slapped…..and so do the damn producers for not interfering with this crazy bitch every time she SWORE and SCREECHED with her baby in her arms……that bitch needs to fall down some stairs……

Then there is my favorite bitch of all……FARRAH…..she is well off……she lives with her parents……but FARRAH, former cheerleader…..likes to PARTAYYYY….she wants to stay out til’ 2AM and she back talks her mother constantly…..if I ever told my mother that I was gonna stay out until 2AM when my son was young she would have backhanded me into next week……..this chick is out of her flippin’ tree….then she is all pissed because she can’t score any ass because she has a kid…..is that girl all there or what?......HEY Philandering Farrah how the hell do you think you got into this situation? ……......guaranteed she in playboy by next season!

It still amazes me that there is a SHOW called TEEN MOMS…..when I was pregnant it was like top secret!.......I freaked out everybody…....I mean are there girls out there now saying to their friends…..I am sooooo going to get pregnant so I can be on Teen Moms next season…..OMG!.......everyone knows….we need to teach our teens about sex and protection…you know PREVENTION…….but I have a better idea……I think every teen girl should get a vibrator…..that will solve this whole epidemic….I mean seriously would a teen girl rather be fumbling around with an awkward, sweaty, smelling teen who has no idea where the button is…or would she rather just take care of business on your own…..no hickies and no babies!

Sunday, January 17, 2010

Too Close for Comfort

As I was rushing out of my office Friday night, putting on my coat, I realized I lost a flippin’ glove….I thought to myself …..MOTHER OF GOD I am worse than a friggin’ preschooler when it comes to keeping track of gloves…..this is not the first time I’ve lost a glove, not the second, and certainly not the last!.....ugh!...I need idiot gloves…you know, like the gloves 4 year olds wear with the string that attaches them together……I refuse to buy another pair of gloves………don’t worry I thought of wearing the mismatched gloves…..I have no shame……only problem is I lost the same flippin’ glove…..the right one….so I am left with two left gloves…..I would never be THAT desperate….well never say never…..usually during the Winter you will see orphaned gloves and mittens everywhere, in the snow, on the street, at the train….lost lonely gloves….which I think is proof enough that I am not the only one who needs idiot gloves…

When I got on the train I was surprised to see lots of open seats….I scored a prime spot…..no one on my left…no one on my right…..nice…..just as I sat down and got settled this guy comes over and STANDS in front of me…..he grabs a book out of his BACK PACK!.....then raises his free hand to grab the rail above him, as he holds his open book with the other…..he was clearly staying…..this my friends is the perfect example of “THE HOVERER”…..instead of standing in front of…oh I don’t know…AN EMPTY SEAT!.....or maybe standing in the door way….he stands RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME……well his CROTCH is right in front of me…..….the thing is if you are lucky enough to get a seat on the T, you are UNLUCKY enough to have front row seats for the crotch parade…..you will avoid looking at crotch, but its gonna happen…...so this chump stood there reading his book breathing his nasty breath in my face…I thought to myself, I really am an idiot magnet…... HEY Mr. Hovercraft! Could you be so kind as to back the hell up! ….or I don’t know take a seat….last time I checked I wasn’t at the “All Male Review” and I wasn’t looking for a lap dance…..especially from a guy like you who is clearly a “GROWER” and not a “SHOW-ER”!

Friday, January 15, 2010

Sometimes the Suit Doesn't Make the Man

I got to the Braintree stop this morning feeling pretty fantastic.....because……it’s FRIDAY and a long weekend to boot…woo hoo!.......Thank you MLK!!!! Getting on the train at the Braintree stop is usually uneventful, since it is the end of the line, so trains are usually there when I get there, and I don’t have to freeze my ass off wait for one…..(Great! now that I said that, I probably screwed myself and Choo Choo Charlie will curse me, and now I will have to wait every morning for a flippin’ train)….that is how it works….say something positive about the MBTA and the next day, if not that afternoon, or evening, your commute will go to complete hell….I made my way to the escalator and walked up….yes..you walk up escalators…you do not stand on them and ride them up to the top….this isn’t Six Flaggs kids….it’s not a ride……it sucks when you hit that escalator at a good sprint only to find some dumb ass standing in the middle of the escalator….oblivious to the world around them….how do I solve this problem you ask? I stand on the stairs directly behind them….assuming the spoon position….if you ever want an idiot to move….invade their space………..and start humming like you drank 10 red bulls…it works….

I finally made it to the top of the escalator….….and made my way to my chariot……a steel death trap on wheels, and took my seat…I could hear music coming from someone…..who was it?....it drives me mad when I can hear music from an iPod and it’s not mine!.....mostly because whatever song is blaring out of their ear buds is guaranteed to get stuck in my head ALL DAY…but hey any song will be an improvement to the theme song from “The Walton’s” which has been stuck in my head for the past three damn days now…..I looked diagonally across from me and there he was……Mr. Slim Shady….he even looked like him….blonde…thin…and I imagine he thought he looked pretty “badass”….obviously one of Braintree’s finest…..He was wearing a suit and was definitely in his early 20’s….I am guessing maybe he was headed off to a job interview, or who knows…..maybe his arraignment at Quincy court…

This Eminem “wanna be” was boppin’ his head to the music…showing no shame…..giving me a free lip sync concert…..when all of a sudden…the golden moment occurred……I watched as he lifted his hand to his head….pointed one finger…and you guessed it…..went for the bat cave….now I understand the term “diggin’ for trout”…he dug right in….then I guess he found what he was looking for…..but it wasn’t good enough to just find it….he had to, in perfect male fashion, INSPECT his nugget….I felt like I was at home with my brothers…I was half expecting him to fling it at me….but no….this kid was classy, he wiped it on his wool dress coat….I was like…really?....does he not see me on the train?......Hey MTV Jams! Nice suit…but it makes more than a suit to make it happen pal…for starters maybe you should check for bats in the bat cave before you leave the house....and another thing Jazzy Jeff!... how about keeping that live concert going on in your head…IN YOUR HEAD….where it belongs!

Thursday, January 14, 2010

I had the pleasure of taking the commuter rail this morning…now this is a completely different experience than taking that T……different rules…different fools.....and as you know, my tolerance for fools is pretty damn low….

I am sure many of you have taken the commuter rail into the city to see a Sox came or some other event…well riding the train during the week, especially the commuter rail, is a whole different ball park….the thing that pisses me off the most about the commuter rail is that it costs an arm and a leg (when I write that all I can think about is that damn chick in the t-mobile commercial holding the arm and the leg…I need that burned out of my brain!) and the other kicker?.....there is no bar service…….

The commuter rail is the perfect place to watch a snazzy dressed professionals nod off, snore and drool on themselves and if you are lucky enough…drool on you too….and it is usually the guy next to you…or should I say….ON YOU…and not ON YOU like Tom Cruise in his Risky Business train ride either…more times than not these “nodders” doze and dip…..which means they fall asleep and then lose the capability of holding their body up because….well they are DEAD asleep…

When you get on the train you have a few options for seating….single seating, two seater, and the three seater…single seating is very limited…..well you would think single seating would be ideal…and it can be, as long as you are not sitting across from the bathroom….which I might add smells like a port-a-potty at Lollapalooza….and if you have to use the train bathroom, you have to fight the urge to vomit as you try and pee…which can prove to be very difficult…not to mention trying to pee as you hover over the seat on a moving train….needless to say you never use the john unless absolutely necessary!......which means only if you have an EXPLOSIVE case of diarrhea….

I always try to grab a two seater….less drama….easy cheesy…..the three seaters?….nightmare-ish!.....here is the deal….the first person that sits in the three seater goes to the window. The second person that sits, sits in the aisle seat…..now you would assume that when the third person comes by to sit, that the person on the aisle would just slide over……………..NOT!.....they get up and let you get in so you can sit in the middle….. between Obnoxious Tech Guy and Dr. Drool….which makes for a great commute….nothing liek being the meat in a commuter sandwich....

This morning the train was packed….I had to sit in a three seater….ugh…. I like to find the person sitting in the aisle with the most shit on his lap….why you ask?...because I know how people think….they think….if I have my laptop out, and I have my coffee in my hands, and my backpack in the middle seat (yeah back pack!) and I “look” busy then people are less likely to ask to sit….well that is not how I roll…..I look for THAT guy….the TECH Guy with all his shit laid out on the seat….that is the guy that I bother…just for fun…they always ignore you when you say …excuse me can I sit here?....so you have to “tap” them on the shoulder….oh yeah I tap Tech Guy on the shoulder…

So I tapped this guy on the shoulder and asked if I could sit…..he was pissed….he huffed and puffed….the wire to his ear buds got caught…he had to grab his BACKPACK and laptop with coffee in hand to GET UP….so he could be “nice enough” to let me into the seat….Hey Mr. Gamer Laptop Lover! there is no need for a laptop to be open on a train for a 30 minute ride….unless maybe if you are working on a cure for cancer….and from the looks of the game you are playing, you and your "band of brothers" aren’t working on anything…except maybe not EVER getting laid.

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

The Bitch is BACK!

Don’t worry my friends….the bitch is back!.....I have not gone completely soft on ya….let me fill you in on my glorious commute last night….I got to the T station about six o’clock…it was a long day…the train was just arriving at the station when I was coming down the stairs…well hauling ass down the stairs…I was out of breath I might add, since I am still carrying around about ten pounds of “luggage” from my feed bag sessions at Christmas…..

For the record I always have to wait for my damn train so I was pretty pumped to see it pulling in…..I got on the train and to my amazement found a seat right off the bat!...then I thought for a moment….maybe this is all a dream….the train is here when I got here…I got a seat without having to accost anyone….something is wrong….perhaps I tripped and fell down the stairs and I am really not on the train but lying unconscious at the foot of the stairs…people stepping on, and over me as I lay there motionless….is this what they meant by “living the dream”?....I sure as hell hope not…

I eventually claimed my seat and sat down next to a pleasant enough looking woman….I brought my bag to my lap and started going through it looking for my blackberry...when….I noticed Ms. Bright Eyed Nosey Pants looking over my shoulder... INTO my bag…she watched as I moved things around trying to find my damn phone…this is when I wish I had something obnoxious in my bag…like vagisil or FDS spray or something…I am sure that would make her divert her eyes…maybe she would even move to another seat….this is when I knew I was not dreaming.

I finally found my phone in my bag o’ tricks……checked my facebook….and SO DID SHE!.......checked my messages….and SO DID SHE!...Hey Sally Snoops A Lot…you need time to put on your glasses? I don’t want you to miss anything…Hey why don’t you take your head off my shoulder and stop reading my PERSONAL e-mails. This isn’t romper room…and this isn’t story time. Mind your own flippin’ bee’s wax!

Monday, January 11, 2010

A Man and his Truck: A Story in Memory of My Father

My Father lived a good life, which I know from the great stories he would tell, and the songs he would sing. My father had many friends, from all walks of life. He was a Pipefitter by profession, and was a member of the Union. He loved to work in his garage and always kept his hands busy. He was always working on a neighbor’s car, fixing a friend’s boiler or doing some type of job after he retired. He had this big red GMC truck that had one of those horns that went….AAAAWWWWOOOOGGGGAH. I remember riding in the truck when I was a kid, begging to press the button for the horn when we saw my neighborhood friends. My Dad loved cars, and loved working on them, especially his red GMC truck.

We never knew my Dad was dying. No one would tell us. Then he stopped chewing, and then forgot how to swallow, and then we knew. It’s hard to see someone who you always thought was the strongest man in the world, slowly disappearing. My Dad didn’t know who I was during the last month or so of his life. I moved into his house to help my sister Mary care for him. I had the night shift. We had a baby monitor in the caretaker bedroom so you could hear him if he was stirring. I would get up when he was restless so he wouldn’t feel lonely. He would just watch me. Even though he didn’t know who I was, he was never afraid of me, because he knew I took care of him.

Tonight he was different, quiet, and his breathing was a little shallower, but he was alert and happy when I walked into his room. The night was dark and still. My brother Michael, who came to spend the night to help out, and my sister, had long gone to bed. I could hear the soft tic-toc of the kitchen clock, and the swoosh of my socks, as I scuffed tiredly along the hard wood floor to his bed. He was fidgeting with his sheet and had it twisted between his hands. My father was used to working with his hands and when his Alzheimer’s got worse we would find him in the middle of the night, with his arms raised, and his hands in the air, busily working on an engine or a boiler in his dreams. This only proved to be a problem in the hospital when his hands would find the tubes or wires attached to his body. It would make for a busy night for us. Lucky for him, and for us, we had decided a month earlier that there would be no more hospital trips, no matter how bad he was. Tonight the lamp by his bedside flooded him with soft golden light. He looked peaceful. I asked him if it was ok if I sat with him for a little while and his bright little smile told me it was ok.

I dragged his rocker to be closer to him, the same rocker he used to rock me to sleep at night when I was a baby. I gently unwound his hands from the twisted sheet and took his hand in mine. His hand was cool to the touch, his skin pale and soft. I smiled gently and looked into his grey tired eyes. I asked him, “Do you know who I am?” He looked at me and replied, “No, I do not,” I explained to him with a quiet, slow voice, with my biggest smile, “I am your baby girl, Katie. You had nine children and I was the very last one.” He then said to me with an inquisitive smile, “Really?” I then continued, “Yes and you know what? You were a really great Dad and you gave me a very happy life. Thank you so much!” I watched as a smile stretched across his face. He asked, “I did?” I grabbed his hand tight and drew my face closer to his and said “Yes, you did.” His face soon softened and he looked more relaxed. A few moments later I watched as he was just about to doze. I heard him sigh, and then he said “I did.” I stood up to tuck him in, and as I kissed his forehead said, “Yes, you did, my love.”

Little did I know when I crawled back into my warm bed that our time with him was now limited to just hours. When I woke an hour later to check him, I realized he was out like a light, but that the bed needed to be changed. But for some reason, I couldn’t move him alone, he was so heavy. I had to call my sister to come over to help me. I hated to wake her. She had been spending the night with Dad alone up until just a few days ago. I knew she needed her rest. But I had to call her. When she arrived, out of breath from running, I never saw fear in my sister’s eyes before, but I am sure she saw it in mine too. We got him as comfortable as possible, as quickly as possible. At this point the sun was slowly starting to come up. I was always relieved to see the sun whenever I did overnight shifts with Dad. I guess it was the relief of having him one more day.

After Dad was comfortable and tucked in we made the necessary calls to family, as we each took turns sitting with him and holding his hand. My sister began to notice he was fidgeting and making a noise. She went to his side and began asking him “What’s going on buck? You ok kid?” he wouldn’t reply. He only made the same noise, and made the same gesture, with his hand under the blanket. My sister lifted the blanket to what he was doing, and then she figured it out. He was trying to start his truck. My father had not driven in years. So my sister said to him, “You trying to start the truck Dad?” My Dad shook his head and kept making that noise, the noise of an engine that wouldn’t turn over. She then asked him, “Dad you sure you got the right key? You need your keys Dad?” My dad nodded his head.

My sister slipped quietly from the room and went into the kitchen to get my Dads keys. My Dad always carried keys even when he was no longer allowed to drive, just as a comfort to him. But over the past weeks my sister had to put the keys on the keyboard because we were having trouble with him putting objects in his mouth. She removed the keys from the keyboard and brought them into him. She slowly raised the sheets and took his hand and placed the keys in his hands. He continued to try and start the truck. He then spoke, he said, “Henry is waiting in the truck for me.” Henry was my Dads old friend that had passed some years ago. My sister and I looked at each other, everything went silent and I could just feel the thud-thud of my heart in my chest, tears built in my throat, my neck burned from holding them back. My sister then said, “Ok Dad, you got the keys now. You can go. Henry’s waiting.” We continued to encourage him and he continued to turn the key to get that truck going. Never did I wish harder for a truck not to start.

Eventually he tired, and fell into a comfortable sleep, his breaths slow and deep. We knew he was ready. We would not be getting him out of bed today. We would not be helping him dress. We would not get to fix him his favorite breakfast, his coffee just right. He would not be singing, we would not be laughing. Family began to arrive. Soon the house was full. My father died later that day in his room surrounded by family, with his keys in his hands. After all, if there was one thing my Dad was known for, it was getting trucks started, especially his red GMC truck.

Friday, January 8, 2010

Blondie Strikes Again!

Well my glorious Friday morning started out splendidly. I stood at the freezing bus stop, with flurries falling on my uncovered head, for a bus that never showed up. I am the type of person that I am not going to wait outside on a major roadway in Braintree for 20 minutes waiting for a bus….because I remember when I had a car, and would drive by bus stops and see people standing there staring off into space, waiting for a stupid bus and I would think….SUCKAS!!!!.....so I try to spend as little time as possible at the bus stop…not to mention the ass wipe truck drivers that honk…for fun….even better when they drive by twice….it makes me want to walk into oncoming traffic.

When the bus finally came I boarded only to find my “bestie”, the double wide, bottle blonde with the mouth that won’t quit!....well that is not entirely true….I did see her stop talking for a few minutes one time on the T when she packed breakfast for the ride….inhaling a sausage, egg and cheese bagel like it was her last train ride…and I wished it was!.....Anyway….there she was sitting in the front side seats that were reserved for the elderly, handicapped and women with children…she was sprawled out like she was at home lounging on the couch, watching a marathon of phantom gourmet….I thought I was safe when I saw her reach for a Metro and she started flipping through the pages….but then her phone rang……………..Grrreeaaat I thought….now there are people who will answer their cell on the bus or train, and talk softly, and maybe even cover their mouth with their hand….ya know so as not to be rude to the other passengers….She is not one of them!......she is one of those attention seeking crazy ass bitches whose face lights up when it rings, and if she had an infant on her lap, she would probably toss him to the ground to ensure getting to the phone before the second ring……so she snatches her phone from her pocket and immediately starts yelling into the phone as she looks around the bus to see if anyone is watching, or listening to her….well this morning she was not too pleased with the conversation that was taking place. I think maybe it was a co-worker because she starting bashing another employee with vigor. She was so friggin’ loud!

Now my outward response to obnoxious cell talkers on the bus or train is what I like to call “the Julie Flanagan stare”…with closed tight lips and clenched teeth and a gaze that could burn through steel, I stared this bitch down….I saw this stare work its wonders many times….mostly on me when I was being "less than angelic", usually when my mom gave me this stare I had time to book it up the stairs to my room before she caught me (by the time she had me she was a lot slower, my older siblings were not so lucky, she smoked like a chimney but could catch my all star football playing brother in seconds flat!)…more often than not this stare was used in church….like whenever Fr. Doran’s homilies ran a little too long…yes, my mother timed homilies….and when they dragged on my mother would use her death stare as her signal to “wrap it up Padre”….well anyway…this blondie wouldn’t quit. She was saying how this bitch Sue was a loser and she probably had STD’s etc. then she would throw in a couple cackles…ya know because she thought she was being hilarious…..I was like are you friggin’ serious? I don’t want to hear “STD’s” spoken so early in the morning…nor do I want to be reminded of it on a Friday when I am praying to Jesus I don’t catch any over the weekend! ……HEY Kristie Alley how about you pipe the F down! We all know that you’re jealous of Sue and her STD’s because your chances of catching any are pretty slim, considering you need to get laid to catch one…unless of course you can catch one from your cat!

Thursday, January 7, 2010

World Traveler

The one sucky thing about working in Boston…well let me rephrase that… ONE OF the sucky things about working in Boston is….TOURISTS. I hate em’. Yeah I get it…they are good for the economy, but they are not good for my friggin’ blood pressure. You can spot them a mile away….the European ones are the worst…why you ask?...because they love squirrels and pigeons…..they love to lure these creatures with little rodent treats and then take photos and video them for HOURS!..... do not even think for one second that these tourists are sweet animal lovers…..squirrels and pigeons ARE NOT animals….they are rats in mutant forms….and this TOURIST activity irritates the hell out of me… I am like…hey jetsetters…those are not cute little furry animals….they are rats with furry tails!....What is worse is that they LOVE backpacks…..not like the backpacks you strap on your child before they get on the bus in the morning…but big ass back packs, the size of the small child that you put on the bus in the morning. Usually THESE PEOPLE are only a problem in the Summer, but wait…..there are those HARD CORE tourists….who don’t care about nice weather, they just care about the History of the place blah blah blah. I was lucky enough last night to bump into one of these gems on the train.

As I was standing on the platform praying I wouldn’t have any “guidette” run ins…my train finally arrived…..I got on the last car like I always do..passed through the door only to be denied access by you guessed it!….Mr. World Traveler. There he stood…not IN the door way…but not out of it either….he had positioned himself so perfectly that he blocked part of the door way and…..the aisle…..now you couldn’t get by this guy…why you ask?....because of the Eastern Mountain Sports Super Deluxe Hiking back pack he had strapped to his back….so being the sweet nice woman that I am…I said to him politely “Excuse me” then, “Excuse me Please” then….. I thought to myself this guy apparently suffers from what my mother liked to refer to as “selective hearing”…..I then said it again nice and loud…He stood there…meanwhile there was a line of people behind me trying to get on….which means there were people directly behind me trying to spoon me…..so now I was forced to break not one, but TWO rules…..I had already broken the rule of talking to people on the train….I don’t talk to people on the train even if I know them….my brother could walk on that train and he would not even get as much as a hello from me …the second rule about to be broken….was…..touching…I don’t touch people on the train….well this guy was about to get touched! ….I slowly moved my hand from my pocket and placed it ever so nicely on his EUROPEAN sized back pack and firmly pushed that fucker out of my way…..he was a bit taken aback….looked at me in horror to which my response was……Welcome to Boston pal!

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Love on the Red Line

Saw a couple of teenage love birds on the train today. Exactly just want I want to see before my morning coffee. He was looking oh so gangsta in his Sean John Hoodie and his super big White Stag jeans from Walmart…..she was looking oh so attractive in her flannel pajama bottoms and Uggs. I fucking hate Uggs. They were all over each other. I felt like I was in my high school cafeteria all over again…..minus the smell of floor cleaner and sloppy joes. There is nothing worse than PDA…wait..of course there is…but this morning this scene takes the friggin’ cake. HEY Miss (and I stress the Miss) Future Teen Mom why don’t you straddle the guy already and free up a seat! And NO I will not give up my seat for you in nine months when you are on this same train, with a big ass dirty stroller with your screaming snotty ass kid who you ignore as you text your “besties”!