!

nate stew is here!

lying in bed trying to decide whether or not the old "don't raise the body temperature by exercising - makes for a better germ breeding ground!" is a fallacy or not. per usual, i am a hotbed of infestation (shock) because my immune system is still not up to par. one of the california cousins brought this sweet little present of a standard headcold - i am pretty sure it, like all "useful" gifts, emerged from my stocking on christmas morning when i almost simultaneously sneezed and threw up. oops.

ahh yes, christmas. my holiday season officially began when anne had a temper tantrum on christmas eve and flung a full stick of pepperoni at the back of my head. the velocity and effect would've had schilling & co. slapping my mom on the ass - the offending flying cold cut caused me to do an emergency "grab wall!" and hang on. the rest of the holiday can be summed up by the following on christmas morning:

lights up. dibona family sitting on the couch, unwrapping christmas stocking presents, drinking hot chocolate. the muppet christmas album provides a soundtrack. dogs are happily chomping away on new rawhide bones. alannah holds a small, flat present.

anne: now sweetie, you're going to need lots of things for your apartment that you haven't even thought of. we tried to get you started.

alannah: (looks at package) thanks! is it a bed? a couch? perhaps a kitchen table?

kev: don't be an asshole on christmas.

(opens present, finds a small silver and copper spatula and barbecue-style fork)

alannah: hey, thanks! um...well, they're really pretty, i'll enjoy them while i'm making scrambled eggs?

anne: NO! they're for serving hors d'oeuvres! you can't really USE them or you'll ruin them!

alannah: (holds up the fork) so what's this? i guess we'll have a grill?

kev: if your guests won't leave, you stab them in the testicle with the fork.


oh. right, of course. how silly of me not to pick up on that right off the bat. sing on, muppets.

question for the menfolk...

...from the gal population:

if dude uses the following phrases in rapid succession "really like you...smart...pretty...wasn't planning on meeting someone...always the way...want to hang out...BUT...two jobs...school...haven't seen roommate/best friend in weeks...not sure about amount of time to devote...can't be serious/boyfriend...want to hang out."

does that mean what it says?

does that every really change?

damn right, sister!

ahh, the wisdom of jessy delfino

italians and their nudes...

who says porn isn't essential? stupid daniela.

reeling

remember the project with the ringtone community company in cambridge?

right.

u2's people just called my cell phone. the edge has signed on to our project.

holy shit.

more to come on everything.

have you been good this year, little reader?

come sit on my knee. what's that? you like music? ahh. well, then, here you go. and i accept thank yous in the form of donations and gifts.

http://www.idiotsandsavants.com/collection/

*you can stream, and if you figure out how to download, let me know.

driving in and around the greater boston area: bad plan. best to have lots of insurance.

driving in and around the GBA in any sort of precipitation: better off staying home until teleportation is fully developed. (as my colleague's police officer hubby puts it, "the predominant attitude of the boston driver is airbags = invincibility.")

case in point:

my office is located in a very large commerical park that happens to house lots of medical and legal groups. read: a large portion of the people who drive here each morning have a) never been here before b) might come once yearly. therefore, the magical mystery knot of overpass roads that somehow get you off the highway and onto the two narrow lanes leading into the office park become bottlenecked with confused drivers each morning. add rain, stir, let simmer. season with only one dunkin' donuts within a four block radius. presto! angry drivah chowdah, in less time than it takes your motha to curse out derek jetah.

this morning, in an unseasonably muggy torrential downpour, many people were lost and confused trying to figure out exactly how to get off the highway and make it to their divorce attorney/gynecologist on time. as the light changed three times and no one moved, many horns sweetly sounded reminders that it would be an appropriate time to just say fuck it and run the lights (ahh, sweet urban logic).

the car in front of/next to me diagonally had a mysterious blinker on, even though there was no possible way that he was planning on taking a left turn into the guardrail. regardless, he wasn't moving. the irate driver of a ford taurus nearby decided that this car was the cause of FIVE LANES of backup (right), and began screaming obscenities. many horns around us begin to protest. the guy behind me starts leaning on his horn...i timed it. 1 minute, 36 seconds of howling volvo. kill me. there was nowhere for me to go, however, because damned if i was going to try to run down angry taurus driver, who (christ!) was now rolling down his window, waving his arms erratically, and reaching into the passenger seat (oh my god, oh my god, someone's going to get shot. do i remember cpr? any soft of lifesaving technique beyond the heimlich? who am i supposed to call besides ghostbusters?)

as two cars collide on the right side of me from trying to watch (i have now thrown it into park and am trying to decide whether i'm safer with my seatbelt on or off), angry taurus driver stands up and pegs mysterious blinker car with an empty poland springs water bottle. he-who-should-not-drive gets back into his car, and finds that during his tantrum, the traffic blockage has mysteriously cleared (thanks, assface, for ending three minutes of childish tantrum with an even MORE childish concluding act, thereby making approximately six hundred people later for their jobs, divorce attorneys, and stirrup appointments).

boston, you're my home. but i still want a bike.

i didn't think i'd ever be this toolish, but here it is...

i hate suits. i have a suit on today for a client visit that was canceled at the eleventh hour. needless to say, i was conked out on the couch at the eleventh hour and missed the memo. thank you, suit, for making me look worse. i HAVE all of the assets you're trying to promote, and i spend lots of time minimizing them. hello shoulders. hello boobs. yes. i look like the female version of charles atlas. piss off, j. crew.

i don't feel like myself. where are my shiny green shoes? where are my not-quite-right gap jeans? where's the turtleneck to pull up to my earlobes in this cold, cold office?

if you see a pissed off box roaming the halls, that'll be me. do not say hello. just walk the other way.

request for advice...

directed at all of my photo-happy friends: how and when did you start snapping away happily? have any of you ever taken a class? what if i want a basic slr camera...how to educate myself...what am i looking for? i just have this desire to take non-digital pictures all of a sudden.

i take requests...

woke up to an email from sara: "how was the gymkhana the other day? i want details." ask and ye shall receive. non-horsey people, check back on another day.

woke up in the freezing cold at six on sunday, looked at the duffel bag in my room (on top of which was piled western rowel spurs, my faithful (trampled) straw cowboy hat from running games on the app circuit (read: six years ago), long underwear, runner's layers, scarves, and two northfaces. what the fuck am i doing? i went out two nights in a row and spent twelve freezing hours in the barn on saturday. i am currently trying to handle the client load of 2.5 employees. eep. again. what am i doing?

went to the barn, alex laughed the whole time while we brought mary kay (also for sale) and sir out to the trailer. "what are we doing?" she asked, "this is insane. we're not gamers." sir got bug-eyed and snorty - i think he anticipated a permanent move, and he's a smart guy - life is pretty good at alex's. a little bribery by craisins and sir was on the trailer, but once the reality of the situation dawned on him, he swung his big head around, whacked it on the divider, scared himself, and jumped up in the air - landing full blast on my right foot (clad in danskos).

alex knew disaster had struck when she heard "fucking assface fucking broke my foot you dinkhead! i'm so fucking good to you!"

alex: "uhhh, al, do you want to not go?"

me: "get me the bag of peas, he's going to RUN TODAY!"

thus, i sat in the truck and sulked for the majority of the ride to rhode island, cooking the frozen peas with my swelling foot. two hours later, we rolled onto greene field farms, which was quite pretty, and packed with trailers and horses streaking by, spinning, and tearing back down the length of the grounds. show people will tell you what happens when someone who's obviously green around the gills appears at your event - generally, the other exhibitors won't give the greenie the time of day. not so at a gymkhana. everyone was friendly, warm, and welcoming. the cowboy parked next door, elliott, was quite nice and directed us to the entry booth. he explained that this was his second greene field gymkhana, so we were essentially in the same boat, and his first with his new horse, jack daniels. (jack's a gorgeous bay and built with rocket boosters, i'm pretty sure.)

sir stood quietly while i gimpily tacked him up (a friend had lent me her barrel racing saddle, which is essentially a western saddle with a shortened, deepened seat, impossible to fall out of) and schooled him, and before i knew it, we were being called into the arena for barrels. (sir had never been on the grounds, never been in the arena, and all of a sudden i was digging in and asking him to tear through the door, into the arena, and past the laser sensors. god bless him. he went for it.) as everyone runs, their times are announced, but i couldn't keep track of the times for each horse (there were about 75 on the grounds divided into four different divisions), let alone who was in each division and the fastest overall gamers. quite an experience - as you scream into the arena, people are yelling, "look up! get it! get it! sit down! push him! run, girl! HOOOOORAH! spin 'em!" it's insanity. sir ATE it up. he pranced, he arched his neck, and he stood like a gentleman and waited for each turn patiently. by the end of the day, and four events later, he had a crowd of admirers. the announcer kept referring to him as "sir for sale", which certainly helped things, as three or four people are coming to alex's to try him out this week.

the highlight of my day came when sir and i finished our last event, arena race, and clearly spanked a lot of the professional horses, including elliott and jack daniels. they congratulated us, and a salty old cowboy rode up beside us. "ma'am," he said, "you ride that horse with a pair of brass balls and a ponytail, and we like that. come on back anytime."

at the end of the event, everyone rides into the arena, and the top six times for each event are announced. sir was third in barrels, second in poles, third in keyhole, and second in arena race. kicked ass and took names. the owner of the farm asked alex and myself if we'd consider joining the barrel horse association, and if we still have sir (or another project) we'll certainly come back in the spring. the farm volunteered to profile sir on their website (which i still can't find, so if anyone is a good internet researcher and feels inspired, let me know), and elliott the cowboy left his number for me in alex's truck. debating about whether or not i should call, and what would i possibly say? we did beat him - twice. :) happy ending for our little sirhead, and my foot appears to be horrendously swollen and bruised, but not broken. i laugh, because now i'm in charge of schooling merv (the irish warmblood/draft who comes with a passport), hank (my boss' horse who's beginning to learn dressage fundamentals - we're acquiring knowledge together), and the safest barrel horse in the world (who'll rev up and streak into an arena now like nobody's business, stop, put his head down, and walk away. that's my boy).

::shrugs:: you know how i roll

santorini. that's where i'm headed in september 2006. you can come, or you can stay home and listen to me talk about how glorious it is. it's up to you.

stephie's here for a visit, always wonderful. went to jake ivory's last night - a dueling piano bar in the fenway. much fun. they're request based, and the guys can play/sing absolutely anything from sinatra to snoop. the neighboring table delivered three shots to us and shyly left - steph and i clinked happily and downed them. however, once kathryn and i had gone to the bathroom, an older patron approached steph and advised her against taking any more open shots. when the original bearer of shots reappeared to strike up conversation with her, she tipsily told him that only creepy guys try to rape girls in bars, and if he wanted to talk, he'd better not be a creep. ::head in hands:: i then proceeded to dial drunkenly from my perch on the bathroom sink. queen of my own porcelain pile. thank you, kathryn, for getting us home. (tonight's plans involve redline and middlesex - come out!)

work's wonderful. it had better be, since the two jobs together occupy approximately 70 hours each week, but i honestly don't think i've ever been happier or felt more productive. thank you to my friends who helped with the harmonyline market research and offered advice.

to those of you who asked about my mom - they kept her for a few extra days, but she's home now. internal bleeding required three transfusions. we think, however, that this time she's really on the mend. she's at home reclining and alternately yelling for me, dad, or the dogs. all is well.

sir the gamer is progressing quite nicely...so much so that alex has backdoored me into riding in a gymkhana on sunday to further market our little friend. (holy hell. someone find me a seatbelt. i've gamed before, but this horse is smallish, fast, and squirmy. it'll be fun, but i'm just happy to have health insurance.) for those of you who are horsey and/or interested, here's what we'll be doing:

arena race: a starting line is drawn. a pole is set straight up at the end of the arena. gallop down, right or left hand turn around the pole, gallop back. fastest horse wins.

keyhole race: a starting line is drawn. at the other end of the arena, a keyhole shape is drawn in the dirt with lime powder (leaving the mouth to the "chute" open). gallop up, enter the chute, slam on the breaks and pivot inside the head of the keyhole, and gallop out. if you touch the lines, you're DQed. fastest/most accurate horse wins.

barrel race: three oil drums are set up in a triangle. gallop in, run a cloverleaf pattern around the barrels, and gallop home. fastest horse on course wins.

pole bending: six poles are set upright in a line down the length of the arena. gallop up the side of the line, weaving through the poles on the way back. weave the poles back up to the top of the arena, and gallop home straight down the other side of the poles. fastest horse on course wins.

<-- that's a good example of barrel racing. note the distinct lack of equitation, prim and proper attire, or navy blue and olive green. let's not be fooled by the whole riding team business. i'm kind of a yahoo.


--> that craziness is pole bending. the poles move, thank god, but if you hit one with a kneecap going at that speed, you risk a break. entirely possible and likely. the things we do for fun. :) wish us luck!

feeling spunky today. watch yourself!

sir has a career interest :)

anyone looking for a gaming prospect? sir, who was very much against going around in a circle with his head down, has decided that he'd love to do barrels and poles. i had windburn yesterday from schooling him if that's any indication of the sprint potential. :) i'm so proud!

fact: even whipped cream and a handful of chocolate chips aren't going to spruce up non fat vanilla ice cream enough to be useful in times of very early morning stress.

somehow ended up with "homework" that's rapidly chewing away at my night. how does this happen in the adult world? and i used to be really good at staying up. now it's one and i want to rip someone's face off. so much for ahimsa.

ayudame, estoy en fuego!

hello, three dear, devoted readers:

brain picking time...i need advice on marketing to the following groups of people, or any combination of...

-the tech-savvy
-the musically-inclined
-the 11-14 age group, probably male
-the nerdy and/or bored 22-28 age group, probably male.
-myspace/high school facebook users
-cell phone junkies

any assistance you can offer would be mucho helpful - i just got my first career project/challenge neatly packaged and dropped on my desk, and my two teammates are less than excited. going to run with this apprentice-style, but need to do some research first. thanks guys!



fact: in 1978, The Speak and Spell became the first device in which the human voice was electronically duplicated on a single chip.

this reminds me of the Dane Cook Demonic Speak and Spell skit, ever heard it? download if you haven't. you'll wet yourselves.

the new home!

300 congress street, quincy. the new home...a work in progress.

sleepily content

after a week of halloween, it's difficult to fathom that the actual holiday has yet to happen...but here it is. and secretly, i'm thankful that i'll have a chance to stay home and do my laundry. i managed to build an office-safe outfit revolving around some cleverly designed sweatpants this morning if that's any indicator of how the weekend went.

in summary, the little mermaid (kathryn) and i made an immense amount of rounds resulting in many good times had by all. yes, she made her entire costume, yes those are real seashells, and her top weighed about 25 pounds. no, i am not actually a bride, i am the runaway bride. clearly my eyeballs were not buggy enough for most people to understand this, or i needed to accessorize with a striped towel to thrown over my head. regardless, good times.

saw hal (my first grade lockermate turned good bud) last night before the big move to SF. good luck, dear, you'll be missed tremendously!

copping out of this entry by adding visuals (mostly taken by my dad and tipsy gals - don't judge our skills, please) and getting back to work...ha, work. i think maybe it's time. before i go, i'd just like to add in a quick shot of the illustrious fartman, who is actually the coach of the rugby team. you're impressed, right? we were.

sidenote: according to the fun fact of the day featured on my favorite internet comic (able and baker by jim burgess)...

What is called a "French kiss" in the English speaking world is known as an "English kiss" in France.

who knew? goodness.

happy hallerween, kids

this really doesn't feel like a friday, mainly because monday was a disabling shit show (but fun, very fun). allow me to share:

preface: i'm very fortunate. my boss, mara, thinks of me as "friend" before employee. in any other world, all of this would've been what my friend manning refers to as a CEM, or career ending move.

sunday afternoon, mara's husband mike calls, all excited. he's managed to procure tickets to the patriots karaoke benefit event at the avalon. great birthday surprise for mara, would i like to go. of course! can he invite his friend steve, whom i know and have hung out with? sure! great idea!

monday afternoon around 4:00 a limo rolls up the front of the building, and mike and i appear dressed and ready to go at mara's office door, much to her confusion. we all get rolling toward boston, however, and wind up at tapeo, a tapas bar on newbury street. (delicious, by the way.) steve joins us. several pitchers of sangria make an appearance. we eat a random assortment of wee dishes including my own choice, squid served in its own ink. throughly sloshed, we move on to the avalon, where mara wets her pants in excitement, and surprise, we keep drinking.

surprisingly, some of the pats (light, vrable, cassel, brady) can actually sing! grand time was had by all, the drinks kept appearing, and mara and i managed to spot matt cassel (23 year old back up QB) sneaking out to the bar. we attack, pin him down with drunken PR chatter, and i make steve hold my purse while i distribute my number to cassel and several of his teammates (of COURSE this was a good idea...sigh). unfortunately, i don't forget much, and i clearly recollect petting the poor man's face several times.

there was dancing, there was singing, there was rejoicing. 'twas fun. the limo arrived to take us home around 11:30 and in the three blocks before we all began to part ways, i also managed to molest my date for the evening (craaaaap), pass out, and then later throw up in mara's car. that's right. i vomited in the car belonging to my boss. the lovely woman and her husband returned me to my home, where my parents found me passed out on the bathroom floor buried by a flurry of toilet paper (nesting instinct?). i spent the entirety of tuesday in my bed, from whcih vantage point i found myself able to elevate my head and speak a tiny bit by early evening. i managed to call everyone i'd been with the night before and apologize, but they were strangely more amused than anything else. lucky girl i am.

regardless, my brain cells are returning slowly to life. i think i did some permanent damage, because in the past three days i've forgotten my car keys twice, one riding lesson, drinks with friends, and one round of dog feeding (the natives sought revenge by eating my pillow).

as if that's not enough for one week, it's halloweeeeeen! kathryn, my life sized dress me barbie, will be making several appearances this weekend dressed as a lovely mermaid (we actually MADE the costume. you'll all be impressed. pictures will follow). i purchased a white dress, blinging "rock", veil, and will be wearing my new balances - runaway bride. if only i can manage to make my eyes bug out for six parties? onward and upward. here's to a speedy recovery, kids. have fun.

RANT!

i don't claim to have flawless grammar. i'm not a fabulous speller. i'm even lazy about checking. my working vocabulary is decent at best. however, i'd just like to throw it out there as a PSA:

ORIENTATED is not a word.

i can't believe the staggering number of professionals who do NOT know this. it's one of those sad cases where the faux word was introduced into conversation by so many people that it had to be made acceptable by the kind, meek, (and i'd imagine, boring) neologists who write the dictionaries.the worst part? this verbal affront comes mainly from people who deal with the media on a regular basis. it makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up like the scruff of a rabid dog. if someone sends me a WRITTEN QUOTE with "orientated" in it one more time i will grab my red pen and have at them like a drunken viking. (for the record, the only other word that sends me into a viking-like frenzy is "panties". ugh. shudder. just sounds nauseating.)

done now.

d-day!

contract is signed, new company is up and running as of november 1. ::exhale:: let the games begin.

genius roundup!

google image search for "the far side". yes. :)

sitting here wiggling around in my chair to kanye's workout plan...but if you checked my itunes, you'd find that i was just listening to no cars go by the arcade fire, nth degree by morningwood, don't you worry about a thing by john legend, and electric by tristan prettyman. these songs have NOTHING in the way of commonalities. it's too bad that there isn't some sort of product that will break down and analyze the rhythms, instrumentation, and lyrics of your favorite songs, come up with some common denominators, and be able to recommend new music for you...

a resounding, fatty "meh".

office move + start of new quarter = chaos. home (mondo yard sale next weekend) = chaos (we're eating off our knees while perched on boxes). barn-as-work = not chaos, but requiring a ton of sunshiney energy. alannah = tired. seeking respite. at least i have clean ears and am successfully eating my oatmeal today.

i just burned the shit out of my tongue on some oatmeal that i microwaved myself. that's the worst - you just want to take the spoon and scrape the crispiness off, but it just leaves you feeling even more toasted. duh. you think i'd be more experienced with this microwave phenom. techtard.

if you haven't heard her yet, i'd highly recommend tristan prettyman, jason mraz's girlfriend. try "love love love" and "electric" to start out. i can send them to you if you'd like.

horse people: i am a little bit stuck. most of my regular riders are very young (ages five to nine) and very green around the gills (mainly just starting out), but here's the thing - many of the moms are sort of horsey themselves. by "sort of horsey", i mean that maybe they started taking lessons five years ago, bought a big honking warmblood and the top of the line tack/apparel (OH the outfits - one woman sends her six year old to the barn in a burberry poncho), and they can't really ride/show the beast. faux horsey, you see? but in the meantime, they think their children are the most naturally gifted riders ever - reality being that the kid can barely trot. so here i am with these mothers watching like hawks while i think of creative things to do with kids who mainly ride at a walk for forty-five minutes. problem: i don't remember HOW i learned this stuff. we do lots of balancing and stretching, lots of games to work on stopping/moving forward/organizing yourself in the saddle...but i'm running low. riders, any thoughts/suggestions?

eep. just like that.

as it tends to do, life kind of exploded. i find myself kicking furiously to stay afloat. we're moving the company next week and each one of us is at least doing the job of two people. this is more difficult when you're not quite at the proficiency level of ONE person yet. everyone is fried, tired, frustated - universally, it seems. the office is tense. my mother chose this week to have a yard sale, so i come home to more chaos. my father had proposed the purchase of a condo in southie, but that is turning out to be a later rather than sooner thing. with the impending corporate move to quincy, however, i am beginning to look at renting in the area. any insight/suggestions would be helpful. may propose a corporate nap. (the slow demise of the red sox isn't helping to boost morale. damn baseball town.)

sidenote: my attempts at formating suck because i am a techtard. if the pictures don't quite match the story that's next to it...well, whatever. my stories in real life are like that as well.

cashing in on the IOU

i have the bionic cold. somehow, i contracted a different strain than the one that's afflicted my entire office(s) and barn. mine began on friday, got increasingly worse for six days to the point where i thought it might be pneumonia again, lessened in intensity for a day, and is now back with a vengeance. kill me.

regardless, i am sitting in the cohasset office encased in my green nylon vest and a few layers of technologically-engineered fabrics. it's gotten suddenly chilly, and it's lovely. a week ago, however, i was draped by a pool in winston, so perhaps we'd better recap homecoming.

jill and i decided, much to the surprise of our classmates, that we'd descend upon the forest early on wednesday night and do nothing important for four full days. the prodigal massholes. i buzzed my way through work on monday and tuesday, and trotted cheerily out of the westwood office at 2:00 on wednesday. i was meeting my boss in the city to do a walk-through of a proposed event venue, so i parked my car at the quincy adams T stop for the weekend and jumped on the red line, beskirted and dragging my little orange suitcase. as a general rule, the t has always struck me as pretty harmless, but i do have some inbred paranoia from being the only daughter of an italian faux mafioso, so when the drunken, shirtless construction worker stumbled onto the train and sat so close to be that he was on top of my skirt, i began plotting my switch to the next car down. despite my obvious headphones and dark sunglasses, he began leaning in front of me, slurring loudly and waving his hands. "why are you so beautiful, so plush?" he yelled. everyone on the train stopped to watch. i feigned indifference, which didn't go over well. "so beautiful, like a picture," he continued on. the train lurched, and he slid his hand up under my skirt, so i leapt up, aiming for the open seat between two large guys who appeared to be about my age. the guy grabbed my wrist and skirt, and said, "no vacation for you, you're coming with me!" (reference to the suitcase, i suppose.) the huge guy across the aisle at this moment stood up, grabbed the much smaller construction worker told him to get his fucking hands off me, and physically threw him from the train as the doors opened at andrew (oh the timing...). his friend grabbed my suitcase and invited me to sit down. thank you, thank you, thank you whomever you are. they offered to walk me to meet my boss, but i politely declined. arrived to meet mara rather shaken, but intact. stupid t.

post-walkthrough, mara took me to the airport to meet jill. we flew through charlotte and then to gboro pretty uneventfully where we reunited with a bouncy, squealing, tail-wagging duo. alli and steph got us back to wake and took us to the foothills brewery where we downed a heavy harvest beer of some sort and ate calamari all the while attacting the attention of the bored band, life in general. we continued to see these guys everywhere for the rest of the weekend.

thursday involved a great brunch at midtown with sara wobker. wonderful to see her and get to sit out in the sunshine with pancakes. the rest of the weekend was generally a blur. a happy blur, but a blur all the same. at some point, bionic cold popped up and we tried to kill it with eggs and vodka shots. highlights of the rest of the weekend include hanging with joe box, the pre-tailgate brunch, the tailgates themselves (we just hopped around), and sixth and vine, winston's wine bar. i feel very, very loved when i meander down to winston, and even managed to make new friends. :)

i am running out of steam and must blow my nose again (sidenote: i am going nuts because i ran out of q-tips yesterday and forgot to buy more last night...i am a daily ear digger and now they feel upsetingly unclean. anyone else this neurotic about aural potatoes?). sigh.

many thanks...

...to zach for the tip - just won two tickets to SNL december 3rd! apparently i AM going to have to get to new york this year. :)

perhaps a cliche, but one of the best books i've ever read...not sure if i'm more nervous or excited about this!

"chicks in chucks"...i like the sound of that.

sitting in the office wiggling my feet happily - they're encased in a brand new pair of classic chucks. spurred a girl in a mohawk on to pet me saturday night at the middlesex lounge in cambridge - she had also decided that i have the "same vein my forearms" as angelina jolie. then she tried to follow me into the bathroom. oh man.

lots of socializing this weekend, lots of horseing - sunday coached the PR boss, mara, at a local show. such a weird turning of the tables.

is anyone up for seeing the presidents (as in lump, peaches, and kitty) october 3rd?

when you're entirely consumed by something tiny, and yet your day must go on...what do you do?

i can etch-a-sketch like a pro, biatch

i just found a koosh ball, an etch-a-sketch, and a book on office yoga in my new little space. someone's looking out for me. :)

i've been MIA for quite a bit, but it's not because i don't love you, dear e-audience (how many of you are there? ::squints into the darkness:: i see...two? three? thanks guys.). lots going on right now - a merger which will eventually turn into a move from the space we just invaded, two weekend trips, and a newly-filled lesson schedule. i'm basically PR girl from 9-5 and the barn equivalent of an elementary school teacher from 6-8 on weeknights and the grand majority of sat/sun. quite content with this, though. kathryn and i decided that we weren't exactly giving back to the community (cheeeeese) like we should be, so we're restarting the 4H club that provided us with lots of great opportunities and information when we were little. when you're younger, 4H entails learning the practicalities of the animal you're studying (for example, ours is a club for horsey kids), competing in quiz bowls and judging tours, and doing a TON of community service. as you get older, there are leadership opportunities. most of the teenagers end up running the meetings, working to get the younger members relating to each other, and keeping detailed records about their "horse project" (aka, keeping track of the details of being responsible for owning an animal - vet fees, vital health info, money spent, training logs, etc.). all of these things were a huge help to me in learning to adjust to the academic expectations of my teachers and professors, and also provided me with a very solid base of horse knowledge to rely on. it's also a very easy way to make friends when you're little, and having that common ground is a big help for kids who tend to be shy. 4H. not just for farm kids anymore. genuinely looking forward to getting this off the ground.

another interesting fact about being out of college: in the past year and a half, i've made friends from all age groups and walks of life. i realized the other day that i spent a large chunk of the weekend with women who were in their forties and fifties, and that many of my friends are getting married, just beginning college, having baby showers, getting divorced...i feel like it's an easy way to absorb life lessons and wisdom. i've always relied on people like sara wobker in times of crisis for her few years of experience and level-headedness, but it's nice to be constantly influenced by people who've gone before you (and still checked back to taking joy in the little things by kids). :)

notes from my margins

one those special little moments - when you walk into the office bathroom at 9:00a to find the seat up - you're the first pee of the day. go ahead, bad ass, sit on that seat! yes!

this morning (bright and sunny, sixty degrees, mind you) i watched two people come to near blows over a parking spot close to the door of the gym - does this seem counterintuitive to anyone else?

apology.

i'm so dismayed by the news that i can't - just can't - write about anything trivial and asinine in my life in good conscience. so sorry.

it's easy to be excited about...

...what is essentially cirque du soleil (sorry, french folks) with horses. cavalia on september ninth!

(alli & me - post-beach on nantucket (hence the tiredness).)

today after work, i'll be going to a local piece of conservation land to take my last walk of the summer with my friend mai. she's just about to head out to her first year of college, and i'm sitting here wondering which bits of wisdom to bestow upon her. in reality, however, it's almost best to not say anything - eagle-sharp hindsight has pointed out to me that without my strings of "mistakes", i wouldn't feel the way i do right now. in the past few weeks, i've gotten to catch up with friends from wake - steph, allison, holly, t - and they've all individually pointed out that i'm happy and it's visible and strong. they're right. i am. honestly, i'm preoccupied - being happy feels like an entirely new sensation. it's been YEARS. i do not exaggerate.

last night i went for my second session with a friend of my aunt's who happens to be a reiki master. her work is really fascinating - the time you spend together is focused on deep tissue work and also realigning and balancing your energy. she said that my aura is deep purple, which is the color of spirituality and passion and high emotionality. i am positively intrigued. you leave her house with this feeling of...i can't really describe it. you're stable and secure and calm, but you're light. you're somehow wiser than you were when you came through the door. i highly recommend it. if you'd like to discuss it in detail, email me.




(holly burt day in brookline!)

my time spent with my wake friends was really wonderful. allison and i managed to get to nantucket, ride, beach, have a holly burt day, walk most of boston, and in general enjoy each other's company. i am still sad, almost two weeks later, that she's not here or that i'm not with her. i've been overly fortunate in the friend department. the people i'm surrounded by bring tons to the table, and they share. it's like show and tell. my friends would make anyone want to be the best version of him/herself.




(wrap your sunburned self in a sweatshirt, crack a cold beer, and hang out watching the sunset...pretty perfect.)

our building is still undergoing tons of renovations, and upon seeing our abandoned men's room door leaning against the wall, our smarty landlordess couldn't help herself:

landlordess: PR really is a game for girls, huh?

boss: nope. alannah and i just like to use the urinal.

reunion with my better half!

today, while driving to the office, i had to fiercely resist the urge to take my hands from the wheel and throw them out the sunroof jubilantly. look, no hands! allison is coming today!

edward the good...

mrprezedent1: Brilliance and true emotion kicks all of us on our ass.

pure brilliance...

...courtesy of idea-a-day.com:

Introduce a range of packaged, microwave-able foods called 'Good Drunk' and which are for
people who strive to eat healthily but who get drunk now and again and end up eating junk. Each dish would be made of good raw ingredients and would be light on fat whilst still fulfilling the main criteria of 'munchie food': being tasty and filling yet quick and easy to prepare.

jay: "how are you, dear?"

me: "actually...i'm excellent, thank you."

jay: "in all the years i've known you...you've never been able to honestly answer like that. you ARE excellent, and i'm thrilled."


i'll say it again. what a difference a year makes.

innovation or full circle? art imitates life or life imitates art?

http://www.boston.com/news/odd/articles/2005/07/29/museum_to_let_naked_people_in_free/

with the risk of sounding overly estogenic...

the cute manager at ABP gave me a chocolate-dipped shortbread cookie with my dinner. i gave him my card two days ago under the guise of professional guidance. maybe he'll call. chocolate is the way to my heart without a doubt. ::smiles goofily::

local kids take note...trip to the paradise lounge or the vineyard, anyone?

my lovely boss, mara, has given me the perfect present...a statue of the indian god ganesh for my desk. i was fascinated with hers, and she informed me that he's in charge of removing obstacles. who's looking out for your life path, hmm?

::taps fingers together::

so.

i'm writing to you live from the heart of domesticity (my office in cohasset). it's a bit of a temporary situation as my...well, start up...is going through a merger with a company in westwood. by the end of the year, we'll probably be dealing with an office in westwood, one in boston, and this satellite in cohasset. but for now, it's really pretty lovely. cohasset is essentially a yuppie preserve, billing itself as "a fishing village nestled along the southern coast of the greater boston area". we refer to it as "another town that hosted the kennedy family". regardless, it's nice to walk out of the door to a french bakery and smell the ocean. home is home.

i've decided to turn over to blogger because, as allison put it so nicely, i was feeling "overexposed" on livejournal. i've made a fresh start on almost everything else this year; why not strike my blog and begin again? for awhile i was writing to myself each night, traditional journaling, but i must admit that i missed the feedback. i'm a broadcast whore, but to those of you who choose to read, all i ask...is nothing, actually. spectators may come and go, and i will write when the spirit moves me without regard to audience.

as some of you may know, the grand breeze is out of commission. he has at least another month of stallrest, so i've chosen to apply my riding hours elsewhere. an old friend of mine, alex, has her own barn and training program here. i'm not necessarily avoiding my own barn, but things are different over there. alex has a barn full of people at different levels with their own agendas, and plenty of horses who have different needs and talents. i find this to be very refreshing. for the non-horsey folk out there, there are two basic ways to tackle the issue of finding horses to support such a varied lesson program. alex could have spent a nice chunk of change and acquired several horses who are old hand (or "made") who'd pack around blithering idiots without the slightest complaint. (i'm sure you can tell that i'm not a huge fan of this method.) what she chose to do instead was to fill her lesson program with horses who have their own quirks and need a little bit of tough love. they're sane, sound, willing geldings and mares, but they aren't quite refined for the most part. those are the types of horses who can certainly be taught what they need to know, and for most riders, it's a great learning situation as long as the horse is first and foremost safe (with "pliable" coming in at a close second). the nice part of this for me is that alex assumes i've learned something after eighteen years in the saddle and that it can only be good for these horses to have someone who's a bit more on the experienced side taking them out. essentially, i just show up and she points me to the day's assignment. i enjoy it, because frankly, horses who are the same each day are rather boring.

one such horse is sir, a 15 hand app gelding who has spent the past ten years cantering up and down a trail. it's easy to glom onto the rangy TB geldings who are great hunter and dressage prospects, but for some reason i attach myself to the sturdy little underdogs who are all blaze, socks, heart and attitude. alex bought him about a month ago after much deliberation. sir's maiden voyage in alex's arena involved head tossing, refusing to go into corners, egg-like circles, and an abhorrence of the rail. add a trailering struggle to that and a wee bit of cow-kicking, and we weren't sure what we were dealing with.

as a rider, i may not have the pretty thing down, or the natural grace, but what i can bring to the table is a bit of tough love. a horse like sir generally reacts well to some firmness, and i enjoy the challenge. he KNOWS what's supposed to be happening, he's just not going to do it unless he has to. to make a long story much shorter, alex and i decided to bring sir to a very small local show this weekend with the intention of taking him off the trailer and letting him see the sites. he's very calm and level-headed, so getting him used to the idea of going somewhere was appealing. i got to be his mom for the day. shortening the story again, our hero actually took division champ in walk trot for green horses! yes, most of this was entirely unplanned, but he was such an old pro that no one could believe it was the same horse. he was ridiculously proud of himself and stood like a statue while admiring children braided his mane and stuck their fingers up his nose. he's quite cute in the pictures.

here's the weird part...i spent what felt like a bazillion years being on hyperdrive on the national circuit with breeze. we did very well...truly. never once did i feel proud. it was always focusing on what came next, how many points we needed, etc. etc. etc. but with sir...well, i'm still feeling the warm fuzzies three days later. he exceeded our every expectation and rose to the occasion. we never planned to rush him, unlike the baby horses on the stock breed circuit. he let us know he was ready, and he stole the limelight. here's to green walk trotters. i can't think of a better way to spend my barn hours than helping a second-hand horse to feel proud of himself again. call it maternal pride, but i think i'm turning into a fixer in my old age.