missmp

I met up with my husband yesterday at the farmer's market, and we bought our veggies for the week before walking up to Trader Joe's to look for their prenatal vitamins, which are the only ones that don't make me sick to my stomach, so I'm a total diva about them.

As we were walking along, carrying our local, organically-grown veggies which we get through a CSA program, some random dude with a clipboard pops out and goes, "You two look like you want to help the earth!"

I muttered to Jay, "I'm gonna hit him with my umbrella."

I hate street solicitors. Because, first of all, if I'm out walking in the city? I am going somewhere. I have a plan, sometimes a timetable, and it does not include saving the whales, sorry.

Plus, having worked in fundraising, I remember trying to tailor appeals as closely as possible to a donor's interests, which often involved pretty intensive research. Going out on the street and accosting strangers seems so lazy and insulting to the people who put actual effort into working with donors.

By that same token, I find myself most insulted by strangers who bug me about my own damn causes. I was late for a date with a friend one day when a guy stepped in front of me and said, "Do you have time for gay rights?" to which I responded, "Yes, but not now." It's like, geez, asshat, thanks for making me even later by trying to guilt trip me over something I already support.

Anyway, Trader Joe's didn't have the prenatal vitamins. Then I got a Braxton Hicks contraction on the walk back. Then guy-with-clipboard's dreadlocked counterpart hit us up with, "Can I talk to you about saving the earth?"

Because I really do try to be polite in all my dealings, no matter how bitchy I am on the inside, I smiled politely and said, "Sorry."

Instead of just wishing us a nice day, he said, "Don't be sorry! Just stop to talk to me."

Through gritted teeth, I was like, "Jay, hand me the umbrella."

Jay snorted and said, "No way. 'Pregnant Woman Accosts Hippie' is, like, The Metro's dream headline."

Because I complained when the Globe ran a crappy article about the Vineyard, here is a much better one.

It doesn't hurt that it was written by a Vineyarder. :-)

Man, I would really like to get to the island one more time before The Sprout comes, but I refuse to go in July (too many people...urge to kill rising...), and I think I might be booked through June. Sigh.

I cannot for the life of me figure out why this article, ostensibly about what the Obamas can expect on Martha's Vineyard is one of the Globe's most emailed articles.

First of all, the Obamas aren't even officially going to MV. Their spokespeople have denied it, and my parents haven't mentioned the Secret Service booking up the hotels.

Second of all, I haven't got a clue who the author is, which means she's not a Vineyarder or a prominent summer person, which, in my Vineyarder's mind, makes her opinion pretty much crap. Sorry, it's true. It's equivalent to when a New York Times writer comes into Boston, spends three hours here, and pretends to know the city inside out. Like the time they wrote an article about "Southie" and never left Fort Point. (My Australian readers are going, "WTF?" Just believe me: it's an important distinction.)

Thirdly, holy crap, what a terribly written article. It lists long-gone businesses like a badge of honor, but without any sort of context it's pretty easy to believe the author just went through an old phone book and picked out names. Then it lists MV "old-timers," again without any reason as to why we should know them other than that they're old. I was particularly annoyed by the "anyone with the last name Vanderhoop," aside, because that's an old Aquinnah name, meaning she basically reduced the Vineyard's Wampanoag tribal elders to a cocktail-party anecdote.

Then, of course, she totally blows her "insider" status by saying, "Memories of having held certain summer jobs are a badge ... such as bagging at Stop & Shop, or high-toned, such as being a hostess at Atria in Edgartown." Well, any adult Vineyarders having worked those particular jobs would have been bagging at the A&P and hostessing at Andrea's, as those places were known until a few years ago.

And finally, as though the author realized she wasn't going to hit her word count, there are four completely unrelated, random, sentence-long paragraphs at the end. Sigh. Well, at least she didn't mention Chappaquiddick.

I went downtown to get a prenatal massage today, and it was lovely; just what I needed. As I was basking in my post-massage glow, waiting at the bus stop, and eavesdropping on the women sitting next to me, a family of tourists paused in front of me.

I knew they were tourists because they had British accents and were taking pictures. I am observant like that. So it was a grandfather with the camera, a grandmother, a pre-pubescent grandson, and a young-teen granddaughter.

The granddaughter was wearing what I remember from my youth as a "cut-off jean skirt." She turned her back to me, and I got an eyeful of the entire bottom of her ass. Like, both butt cheeks and crack. While she was standing still, chatting away with her grandmother.

I knew the other women at the bus stop had seen it too, because their conversation died mid-sentence. I was just as dumbstruck as they were. I could not imagine how this girl had been walking around the city of Boston all day with her ass hanging out and not gotten cited for something. I mean seriously, this was a skirt that Lady Gaga would have rejected as too revealing. I have paid money to see that much ass. My current pair of underwear cover more than that skirt.

But the most baffling-slash-appalling part of the whole story is that when the family walked away? The grandparents walked BEHIND the girl. Meaning they totally knew that she was going around flashing unsuspecting pregnant women. What the hell! I hate to break out my cranky-old-woman before the baby's even born, but honestly, what is this world coming to?

(Xposted from SF)

So I'm 6 and 1/2 months pregnant, and I ride the bus to and from work every day. Every day, I stand. Because no one ever offers me a seat. I have joint pain, occasional sciatica, muscle cramps, and a fetus who likes to kick me in the bladder.

Thus, I have made this mental list of Things That Do NOT Make You Disabled, which I will shortly be writing up and nailing to every #7 bus in Boston, like a bloated, waddling Martin Luther:

1. Wearing really high heels.
2. Needing to reapply your lipgloss.
3. Holding an unreasonably large purse or manbag.
4. Texting.
5. Reading a book.
6. Looking anywhere but at the pregnant lady.
7. Being hungover.
8. Holding a teleconference.
9. Feeling kind of tired.
10. Holding an iced coffee.

And an addendum for the bus drivers: It is May. Turn OFF the heat. Turn ON the air conditioning. I cannot believe how difficult this seems to be for you.

Well, I haven't done a random poll in awhile, and I have a $15 coupon to Sephora, so help me pick what I should get:

Poll #1308011 beautify me
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 23

What should I buy?

Notes:
1. I already use the primer and am running low, but may not run out for awhile, since I rarely leave my apartment.
2. I got a sample of the Hope In A Jar and it left my face soft as a baby's butt.
3. The Eye Illusion just seems cool.

Every day, I check to see what's on Oprah. I skip the celeb interviews and newsy episodes; I like domestic Oprah best because those episodes are high comedy. I mean, come on, the woman clearly hasn't touched a sponge in twenty years, yet she's all about home organization? Yeah, okay.

So last week was "Oprah's Holiday Ideas," and I was like Yes! Favorite Things! I love the crazy shit she finds, and the apoplexy of the audience when she gives it all away.

Except this year, Oprah decided that since we're all Poor now, it wasn't appropriate to give away, say, hand-blown crystal champagne glasses or HDTV refrigerators. Nope, instead we got "thrifty" holiday ideas. I swear to god, you could hear the audience thinking, We're not even getting Williams Sonoma gift bags? I mean, yeah, none of us have money anymore, but you're still richer than god. WTF!

But no, sorry, Poor audience! You get to learn how to make a "gratitude box," where you write down the nice things you're supposed to tell your friends out loud, but never do. To demonstrate, Oprah read nice things Debbie Reynolds and Maya Angelou had written about her. Oh, Oprah. Your modesty is boundless.

Next was a mix CD, which has been my preferred thoughtful-yet-low-cost gift for years. Oprah, of course, made it sound like she'd invented the idea. As I said to katesti, I am totally DLing that sucker for my mother and saying, 'Merry Christmas, Mom! Oprah told me not to spend any money on you.'

Anyway, here are the rest of O's cheap-ass holiday ideas.

me: I love how being poor is, like, novel now.
Kate: Hah, truefax.
me: It's totally trendy to have to keep the heat at 58!
Kate: I love accidentally being on-trend.

Christine's photos from the event we attended last night.

All we did all evening was marvel at the adorably dressed attendees. Everyone got into the 1940's spirit. I had a blast and wish we could do something like it every month.

So there was an ugly moment on during the campaign where some jackass said that if Barack Obama were elected, he'd hire Ludacris to paint the White House black.

I was like, "Bitch, please. If Ludacris was going to do anything, he'd be Secretary of Housing."

Which led Jay and I onto a tangent of rappers as Cabinet members. So far we have:

Secretary of the Treasury- Jay-Z (hey, he ran Def Jam)
Secretary of Education- Mos Def (uh, mostly because we just love him)
Secretary of Homeland Security- Diddy (would you fuck with Diddy? I didn't think so)
Secretary of Transportation- Xzibit (duh!)

But there are many more positions still available! Help us out and suggest rappers/rockers/musicians for the remaining Cabinet positions:

Secretary of State
Secretary of Defense
Attorney General
Secretary of the Interior
Secretary of Agriculture
Secretary of Commerce
Secretary of Labor
Secretary of Health and Human Services
Secretary of Energy
Secretary of Veterans Affairs

Wow. I actually had no idea there were that many Cabinet members. Although, honestly, I remember pretty much nothing from my high school government class besides the time the teacher tried to trip me up when we were studying local positions by asking who the Tree Warden of my hometown was. It didn't work, because the correct answer was, "My dad."

Election celebrations around the country:

Harvard Square turned into a cross between 4th of July and a World Series win

Davis Square in Cambridge threw a spontaneous parade:



Downtown Boston had a conga line:



Philly did the Electric Slide:



In Oregon they sang the National Anthem:



Lots more Boston celebrations.

The line was a block long when the polls opened at 7. The volunteers said they'd never seen something like that before.

I'm not gonna lie: my heart started racing when I filled in the little oval next to Obama/Biden.

And in the Best Thing Ever file: as we waited, a school bus full of kids pulled up to the corner. A couple of the elementary-age kids pulled down the windows and yelled, "Woo! Vote! Vote for the president!" and they all waved at us and cheered. Crazy!

You know what I really miss about college?

Being able to say, "I need to borrow the vinyl pants," with a perfectly straight face, and have whoever was in possession of the pants at the time reply, "Okay. But wipe them off if you spill anything on them," with an equally straight face.

Oh my goodness, it's Thursday already! Hey, you know what I haven't done in awhile? Objectified Jensen Ackles. These are behind-the-scenes pics for tonight's episode; no spoilers.

( nom. )

He's purty.

1. Red Sox.

I got nothing. You know, yesterday I was going to say, well, maybe the Rays just want it more, and the Sox need a loss to put the fire back in their belly, etc., but, you know, clearly I'm full of shit. The first words out of my mouth this morning were, "Holy mother of god!" I should really know better than to have any sort of expectations, good or bad, about this damn team.

2. Britney Spears.

I'm late to the party here, but I am so happy for her! She looks happy! She sounds lucid! What can I say; I have a soft spot for crazy girls. I don't expect her to become any sort of spokesperson for mental illness or anything, but I do really hope she comes out and says something to the effect of I was in a really bad place, and I came out of it. And so can you. Because I feel like, given just how much we saw of her worst moments, that would be a really powerful message.

3. David Cook.

Has a huge melon. I wonder if the reason he looks so pissed in that photo is because he can see how gigantic his head looks. Seriously, isn't this what photoshop was invented for? Shrinking the massive craniums of wannabe rock stars?

He's also going to be on SNL on November 1, which is a choice date, since it's the last SNL before the election. Good on him. Still not loving his new single though.

4. Jezebel

Has a bunch of writers who think they're much smarter than they actually are. And not just the annoying ones. Pretty much all of them make me go Oh honey, NO at least once a day. But I can't stop reading, because they also introduce me to things like the 106-year-old nun voting for Obama. And so my love/hate relationship with them continues. Le sigh.

5. Technology.

I have recently enabled the Genius on my iTunes and created my own Google Reader. Since I am a luddite at heart, I'm not sure I love either one yet. Perhaps you could tell me why I should embrace these new services from our virtual overlords?

( Sorry, Jensen. It has to be done. )

In other news, on this day five years ago, I met some dude who somehow hasn't gotten sick of me yet. Happy anniversary, honey. I look forward to many more.

So I got an email this morning from nin.com. They're doing a survey of the mailing list, and I clicked over to it and realized that I've officially reached the age where I'm so far out of the loop that it looks like a straight line. Like, my answer to the question "How do you hear about upcoming concerts?" would be, Usually after they've sold out. And sadly there doesn't appear to be any option for I hear it on Gossip Girl on the "How do you find new music?" question.

Oh, whatever. I've been ragingly unhip my entire life. It's too late to try to fake it now. (My husband and I actually like to have mock arguments about which one of us had more indie cred in high school. Our conclusion is always that it makes no difference because we were both unpopular dorks anyway.)

Okay. Survey filled out. I bet no one else on the Nine Inch Nails mailing list puts Supernatural, Gossip Girl, and How I Met Your Mother down as their three favorite tv shows.

It is pretty interesting that since the band isn't on a record label anymore, all of this is basically Trent Reznor's DIY project. It's definitely the right type of fanbase to try it with--I've been a fan for fifteen years, and I wouldn't even consider myself all that dedicated, mostly because these days I'm like, "NIN has a new album out? Why didn't anyone tell me?" Meanwhile, the rest of the fanbase has discovered sixteen websites and a vast conspiracy story backing up the album while I'm going, "Is it on iTunes?"

Heh. I am totally the OLD LADY of the internet today.

From an interview with Supernatural writer Sera Gamble

Gamble, who writes four to six episodes a season, admits she was at first taken aback by the fans' intense level of enthusiasm, given the show's modest ratings. She recently attended a fan convention with co-stars Ackles and Jared Padalecki, who plays Sam Winchester, and compared it to Beatlemania.

"It was the energy equivalent of having thousands of panties thrown at a rock star," says Gamble. "I felt that, if security hadn't been there, there would have been nothing left of the actors, not even bones ... People were nearly hysterical when they (Ackles and Padalecki) came out."

I think "intense level of enthusiasm" is her polite way of saying "complete batshit insanity." (Full disclosure: I was at the panel she's talking about. It was the second scariest I attended, after Twilight, which was apocalypticly frightening.)

She's totally right too. If the table (and, uh, Jensen's six security guys) hadn't been there? He would've been eaten alive. I got caught in the crowd and I was terrified.

Anyway. Happy new episode day! Don't be a crazy fan!

Seen around today, it's the 10 Things I've Done That You Probably Haven't meme.

1. Translated Beowulf from Old English. My Anglo-Saxon class was translating it at the same time Seamus Heaney was working on his version, and we were all like, "Can't we just wait for his? It'll probably be much better than ours."

2. Been one of only 2 people at the Rock of Cashel (the other was my new hubby). Travel tip: even popular tourism destinations tend to be deserted at 9am. On Sunday. In the middle of January.

3. Had a pulmonary embolism. Two, actually. One in each lung. I don't recommend it.

4. Interviewed the Fug Girls who are, no surprise, super lovely and awesome.

5. Gotten married in an Antiochian Orthodox church, a branch of the Greek Orthodox church, in a pretty cool ceremony.

6. Rang in the new year at a bar in the ass-end-of-nowhere, Ireland by making out with a hot Irish boy I'd met four hours previous. I still count this as pretty much my greatest accomplishment in life.

7. Spoken to Mitt Romney, shortly after he was elected Gov. of MA. I took a message for my boss and then called said boss immediately, leading to this conversation:

"Hi Jefe, sorry to interrupt your meeting, but Mitt Romney called."
"Are you serious?"
"Completely."
"What did he want?"
"I didn't ask. He left his number, though."
"No way! What did he sound like?"
"Exactly the way he sounds on TV, weirdly enough."

8. Watched a live cardiac catheterization. This was not my idea of a good time, but the Chief of Cardiac Surgery was so enthusiastic about showing me the entire Cath Lab that I couldn't say no.

9. Been pretty much everywhere in Fenway Park except the visitor's clubhouse; including the Sox clubhouse and dugout, the visitor's dugout, the outfield, and the top and inside of the Green Monster.

10. Acted in exactly two plays, neither one of them in modern English. One role was in Spanish (La Criada in Bodas de Sangre, a character who, unbeknownst to me when I agreed to it, is the only bit of comic relief in an otherwise crushingly bleak tragedy.) and the other in Middle English (the morality play Mankind. I was one of the vices, who are also comic relief, and actually got some laughs that time. Whew.)

You can thank the abundance of corn we've gotten from our farm-share for these recipes. It's near the end of fresh corn season, but you probably have a few weeks left to try these. Or you can use frozen/canned corn. Whatever!

( Miss M's stuffed peppers )

( Miss M's corn salsa )

Today I made this corn chowder. So good! But if I make it again, I think I'd add a bit more garlic and thyme. The onions, corn, and veggie stock make the soup quite sweet and I'd like to cut that a little. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go get my forth bowl.

Well, the first hour bored the crap out of me, but the last bit really picked up. Also: whee, Boston!

1. The Kresge building is real. It's part of the Harvard School of Public Health. Scroll down here and you can see it on the map. I used to work in that area. I kind of love the idea of a crazy genius and a cow down in the basement there.

2. The car chase looks like it was filmed fairly close to where I live, near the entrance to Route 93.

3. That bit in "South Boston"? Not Southie. But Boston. The whole episode was definitely shot in Boston.

4. The one armed woman! Reanimation! Men in black! Didn't we do this already, in the 90's? Called... the X something?

5. I love John Noble though. He does crazy so very well.