Oh. My. God.

I just spent the past hour watching the Lost season premier and trying to remember to breathe.

Holy crap.

I can't write anything else.

I'm speechless.

Can One "Fail" A First Date?

If so, I'm pretty sure I failed mine on Monday night.

It wasn't bad, exactly, but it wasn't good. It was one of those interactions where he would ask me something about myself and I would answer in a rather thorough way, and then I would ask him about himself and he would give a one-sentence answer. After writing that, I'm realizing that perhaps it was he who failed the date, because seriously, how many questions can one person be expected to come up with on a first date!?

Anyway, in the process of answering questions thoroughly, I think I didn't have the right filters on, because there were stories coming out of my mouth that probably shouldn't have been shared on a first date. I was even aware of this happening a few times, but I had already started on the story and it was easier to finish than to make up a new more date-appropriate ending. They weren't awful or anything, but there were definitely a few bad date stories, as well as some reasons I don't call guys back.

T.M.I.

*shrug*

It's ok. I'm alright with messing up on my first first date in a long time. But if I mess up on my second first date and then my third first date, I might have to get a coach.

Here I Go Again...

Last year, my New Year's resolution was to start dating again. I realized in the fall that I wasn't going to be able to meet people in my program (99.9% female) or at my internship (95% female) and decided that it was finally time to start dating online. I had many entertaining tales from those days, but no dates that actually went anywhere. Outside of online dating I found a great guy I liked and took some time to pursue that relationship, but that didn't work out either, and I spent the end of 2007 psyching myself up to jump into the online dating world again in 2008.

Well, here we are more than half-way through the first month of 2008 and I am going on my first date of the year tonight. Am I excited? Not really. Nervous? Definitely not. I think the word that best describes my attitude towards this date (and all future dates) is "determined." Determined to start dating again (and knowing that the only way to do that is to actually go on dates). Determined to push through the "maybe Great Guy will get his shit figured out and we can date" fantasy and to get back in the game so that I can see that there are plenty of other great guys out there. Determined to do something... anything... to feel proactive instead of passive in the dating world.

So, as with all of my online dating experiences so far, I am not feeling particularly optimistic that this will go anywhere, but I think that I have to keep my expectations low in order to keep my sense of humor in tact.

This time around, I'm trusting my gut more and allowing myself to cut off communication earlier with people, rather than having a gut feeling that they're a bad match, but pursuing communication and perhaps a meeting on the off-chance that my gut is wrong. If I learned anything last year, it was that my gut is rarely wrong. So this year, I'm eliminating the matches without photos (I'm showing my photo, so you'd better be showing me yours). I'm eliminating the men who use too "lol" or emoticons in their profiles. I'm eliminating anyone who gives one-word answers to essay questions. I'm eliminating anyone who answers the question "how much alone time do you need?" with the answer "None - I like to spend all my free time with my partner."

And (call me an elitist if you want), I am eliminating the men who can't spell. This isn't about typos. This is about the email that I just got that was 8 sentences long with 4 spelling errors and 3 grammatical errors.

So look for some entertaining updates on the zillions of first dates I have waiting for me in 2008. It helps me through the bad dates to know that I will have entertaining blog entries to write when I get home.

Rated G for Great

Sick Girl, Obsessed

Mostly, being sick sucks. But, it is also a great justification for staying home at night and catching up on television that I haven't seen in a while. I don't have Tivo, but I do have the internet, and it has allowed me the opportunity to catch up on everything from The Daily Show (excuse me, "A Daily Show") to Ugly Betty to 30 Rock and Pushing Daisies.

But really this post is about re-discovering an obsession: After nearly a full year after falling off the fan-wagon due to lack of time in my schedule, I am once again addicted to Lost. I have watched the last 3/4 of Season 3 in the past four nights, and Oh. My.God. that show is good. I am all at once entertained, intrigued, and completely freaked out during every episode.

For those of you who haven't yet gotten hooked or who aren't caught up, there's an 8-minute long catch-up video on the Lost website which sums everything up quite well.

But now I'm completely caught up and still feeling sick and I have a long weekend ahead of me. I can't go baby-visiting like I had planned because I'm sick, and I've got no more Lost to keep me company. Perhaps I'll have to go to my USA back-ups of Monk and Psych to get me through.

Never fear - this couch potato thing can only last this weekend because I refuse to be sick any longer than that and because classes start next week so there's a finite amount of time left before I have to turn my brain back on.

And dating. Dating starts next week too.

Stay tuned...

2007: The Year in Review

I never wrote a year-end blog post. I meant to, but I didn't. I wrote a million different versions of it in my head, but never put my fingers to the keyboard to make it happen. And now half a month into 2008, I am re-capping 2007 for you all. It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. And you heard about a lot of it from this blog, but here it is condensed for your enjoyment:

Fibby's 2007

School:
Classes taken: 12
Classes passed: 12
Community Ed classes taken for fun, not credit: 2
Papers written: 45
Nights in a row with 5 or less hours of sleep: 15+

Sports:
Sox games attended: 3
Pats games attended: 0
Fantasy Football leagues played: 1
Fantasy Football leagues won: 1

Friends and Travel:
Trips to San Francisco: 1.5
Walks across the city of SF while wearing a box around my waist: 1
Shopping sprees at Ross Dress for Less: 2
Road trips to Willoughby, OH: 1
Weddings attended: 1
Baby showers attended: 2
Friends who had babies or announced pregnancies: 8

Dating:
First dates: 8
Second dates: 4
Third dates: 2
Number of times I was stood up: 1
Number of times I fell in love: 1
Number of times I had my heart broken: 1
Number of online dating services used: 2

Other:
Number of children for whom I babysat: 10
Number of times I did karaoke: 1
Visits to Jake Ivory's: 2
Theme days planned by me at my summer job: 8
Number of times I dressed up like an idiot for theme days at my summer job: 7
Mini-golf games played: 3
Mini-golf games won: 0
Free rounds of mini-golf won: 1
Free cone days attended: 2
Survivor seasons watched: 1.2
Raffle prizes won: 1
Number of times fallen down any number of stairs: 2
Weeks between stair falls: 3
Bones broken in stair falls: 0
Blog entries: 101

Chill Out.

Checked the temperature this morning before walking to my babysitting job, and the website I checked said it was 7 degrees (yes, that's a single-digit "seven") but it would FEEL LIKE -19.

After the 20 minute walk my legs were numb but everything else had been layered and bundled well enough to keep me from becoming a human popsicle.

I got to have a play date with C. (the 20-month-old boy I sit for now) and Miss M (the 27-month-old girl I sat for last year) today, which was hillarious. Between C's looks of bewilderment at how many words a minute came out of M's mouth, and M's regular exclaimations of "I just peed!" it was really quite an afternoon.

I'm currently sitting in bed under the covers with a hat and scarf on, trying to thaw from the walk home.

Winter... not so much my favorite season.

New Day, New Year

I've been wanting to write a thoughtful and introspective post about the new year, but haven't managed to do so yet. Today, I read this and thought it was a good start to what I'd like to say.

Poem for a New Day

yes indeed there is so much to be had here
so much
so

certainly much

can't wait for it can't
wait

for sunrise
can't wait for dreams

can't wait for so much

Thanks Brother Matt.


Some of you might have noticed that I changed my template. I never really liked the old one all that much, and feel that this one is much cleaner and easier to read. I have also updated links (which I've been meaning to do for ages), so please check them out. If you're linked and don't want to be, let me know and I'll remove you. If you're not linked and want to be, I probably just forgot, so drop me a line and I'll be sure to add you.

Happy 2008 everyone - photos and stories to follow...

Why I'm Going to Hell

(aka: Why I Can’t Go to the Congregational Church in My Hometown for a Christmas Eve Service Ever Again)

When I was growing up, my family belonged to a church. It was a Congregational Church, and we went every Sunday. Looking back, I remember it more for the sense of community it gave me for any Biblical learning that took place.

When my family moved to Maine, my parents looked to find a church right away in an effort to get us better connected to our new community. We started at the Congregational Church, but found that the ministers weren’t as engaging as we’d like. We tried the Unitarian Universalist Church, but felt it wasn’t as denominational as we’d like. Then we tried the Methodist Church, and felt we had found a winner. The Minister was engaging and gave interesting sermons (even for those of us who were in 7th and 3rd grade) and the music was wonderful.

People greeted us with smiles and welcomed us to the church that first week... and the next week… and every week after that for 6 months. And finally we decided that we weren’t going to find a new church that gave us the same sense of community and belonging as our old church, and we stopped going. This worked out well for my sister and me, as we weren’t too keen on getting dressed up on Sundays to go sit in church and listen to someone talk (even if he was good at it). Even though we no longer attended church regularly, we still went on Easter and Christmas Eve. However, when the minister at the Methodist Church moved away we lost the very weak ties we had to that church, and realized we might need to shop around for another church for Christmas Eve services.

We ended up at the Congregationalist Church again, and found the service to be decent. The minister was the father of a schoolmate of mine, and there were always a few highlights such as the “Hark the Herald Angels Sing” sung by the youth choir (song that is linked to is an approximation of the arrangement actually sung by the choir – not quite the same tune, but definitely in the same spirit) and the singing of “Silent Night” by candlelight at the end.

Over time, however, the Christmas Eve service went from decent to bad. It was a gradual process – so gradual that we didn’t notice it right away. It began with a few obscure Christmas songs being added into the service. Now I’m all for introducing the congregation to new songs, but I believe that at a Christmas Eve service, people want to belt out their favorite hymns, and not new ones. The musical director at this church apparently feels differently and likes to use the Christmas Eve service as an opportunity to introduce new and never-before-heard-by-anyone-in-the-congregation tunes.

The congregation always dutifully trudges through whatever obscure song has been chosen, while the choir sings loudly in an effort to help us find our way. That method worked ok for a few years, but the choir has shrunk over time, and is now down to 13 people. Additionally, the youth choir is no longer in existence, so the singing of “Hark the Herald Angels Sing” is now done by the “Youth Choir Alumni,” so depending on the year, this can either be impressive, or… not.

Which brings us to tonight…

On our way to the Congregational Church, we joked about finding a new church for Christmas Eve service, because the obscure musical selections had gotten so painful, so I guess I was primed for a breakdown before I even knew it.

We arrived at church a little later than we usually do, and ended up in the back row. We sat down and looked through the program and found the youth alumni choir and some Christmas classics such as “O Come All Ye Faithful” “O Little Town of Bethlehem” “Away in a Manger” and “Silent Night.”

…And then there were the not-so-classic tunes such as “Watcher, Tell Us of the Night” “Jesus, Our Brother, Strong and Good” and (I am not making this up) “Sheep Fast Asleep (Japanese carol sung in English).”

Well, we got through the Processional and the Invocation with no trouble, but this is where the wheels began to come loose. The choir (made up, I remind you, of 13 people) sang an anthem that either needed to be sung by many more people or by people who had confidence in their singing skills, because there were a good many points in time when the piece was actually painful to listen to.

The First Lesson was fine, followed by our first obscure hymn “Watcher, Tell Us of the Night” which the congregation managed to plod through acceptably. The Second Lesson was also fine, followed by the choir singing an anthem that was actually almost sweet. The Third Lesson was fine as well, but it was followed by the obscure “Japanese carol sung in English” and that, dear readers, is where I began to lose it.

It started with the music when I went to look in my hymnal and found I couldn’t read the words. My dad saw my confusion and pointed to the bottom two lines, which were written in English. I giggled, then got ready to sing. Except when it came time to sing, the congregation just couldn’t do it. There was a lot of soft humming and words kind of coming out, and I’m sure everyone really was trying, but no one seemed to be able to get the tune, and the choir that was only 13-strong couldn’t sing loud enough to lead us (or weren’t all that confident in their ability to sing the song either). And so despite a fine effort to keep singing, I began to laugh. Not an out loud laugh of course, but the quiet, to-yourself kind.

Except that everyone knows that keeping a laugh in only makes it bigger and stronger, and no matter how much I tried to breathe slowly and contain my laughter, it just kept coming. By the time the second verse began (thank goodness for everyone involved that there were only two verses), I was shaking in my seat from my laughter and because she was sitting next to me, watching me struggle to contain myself, my mother had joined me.

I was crying because I was laughing so hard, and leaned over and asked my mother for a tissue. She was also bent in half laughing, but managed to find a pile of tissues in her pocket. However, when she pulled them out, it became clear that they had changed consistency since they were originally put in that pocket. You see, while tissues that have recently been placed in a pocket come out in one piece when grabbed, tissues that have sat in a pocket for a time actually crumble when removed. Which, of course, is what happened when my mother reached for her tissue supply. So instead of handing me a tissue, she handed me multiple shredded pieces of a few tissues.

Which, of course, got us laughing even harder. Which, of course, got us crying even harder. And all the while, Dad on one end next to me, and my sister on the other end next to my mom dutifully struggled through “Sheep Fast Asleep.”

The above story was embarrassing enough, kind readers. Though we didn’t have people sitting behind us to see our hysterics, we did have the ushers standing in the back and they were sure to have seen us. I pulled myself together by the end of the song, but the story does not end there.

Of course it doesn’t.

Because it was in the Fourth Lesson that something that might not have been funny if I hadn’t already been on the edge, became hysterical. The Fourth Lesson is Luke 2:13-14 “Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests’”

Well, that’s what the Fourth Lesson would have sounded like if the minister hadn’t coughed when he got to the “Glory to God…” part. He stopped and cleared his throat and tried again. Same cough, same place. He excused himself and cleared his throat and took a drink of water and this, gentle readers, is when you learn why it is that I am going to hell because when this minister was struggling to read a passage from the BIBLE – the Holy Book – and he kept coughing at the exact same place over and over again, I laughed.

Yes, I laughed. It was a quick, loud burst of noise, which I immediately attempted to cover with a few coughs, but I didn’t fool anyone. I re-focused and tried to calm myself, but (you can’t make this stuff up) it happened AGAIN. Third try – same cough, same place. I was doubled over, shaking, clutching a crumbled, useless tissue to my face, but I did find some comfort in hearing the rest of the congregation let out a few nervous giggles.

So the Minister turned the Fourth Lesson over to the Associate Minister, who managed to read the passage with no coughing interruptions. We got through the Fifth and Sixth Lessons and their Carols and Anthems and were back on track to finish the service with no more losses of focus, until The Offertory Anthem, as sung by – you guessed it – the Youth Choir Alumni.

Last year, there were at least 8-10 young adults who got up to sing, but tonight there were just 6. And after the first section where there are many high notes and long phrases, it was clear that no one had practiced this song since they last sang it a year ago, and they knew it. And so while four of them diligently sang on, two of them worked hard to sing while suppressing giggles. Which of course made me lose it again.

I once again pulled myself together for the Doxology, and then my favorite part – the lighting of the candles. The church lights get turned down and everyone stays seated and holds a lit candle in front of them. As the notes from “Silent Night” faded away, we listened to the prayer and benediction, and then the congregation stood up to sing the final hymn (“It Came Upon a Midnight Clear”). I had managed to quiet my laughter at this point, finding some calm by focusing on the beauty of the familiar songs I was singing, so I wasn’t prepared when I heard my sister whisper to my mom, “Mom – Wait! We’ve still got a song to sing!” and turned to see my mom putting on her jacket and getting ready to leave instead of standing to sing the final hymn.

Again, a fit of giggles. Again, I got it together to sing the hymn. The organist began the Postlude and I have never seen people leave a church so quickly as we did. It was very nearly a run to the car, and when we got in it, we collapsed into laughter. Yes, it was embarrassing to have reduced to a pile of laughter and tears in the middle of a Christmas Eve service, but there was something to pure and so joyful about that emotion - and about sharing that moment with my family - that I don't regret it. Not one bit.

All the same, we think perhaps it might be a good idea for us to try a Christmas Eve service at another church next year.

When the World Gives You Snow, Give the World Cookies

First, let me say this: I AM DONE. DONEDONEDONEDONEDONE. No more classes for a month. It still has not set in that I won't be in class every night of the week, but I already feel the weight of the 6,000 papers that have been handed in is off my shoulders, and I'm looking forward to a day in the not-so-distant future when the fog of exhaustion has also lifted. Soon.

Second, I will say that as exciting as it is to be done, it is also a bit anticlimactic, since our final two classes were cancelled last night because of the snowstorm that swept through. Now I'm all for snow days (especially since I haven't had one in over 10 years), but to have one on the last night of class with a professor I really like and who I may not have again next semester was kind of a let-down. (Nerd alert: I'm also bummed to have not gotten my final papers back from her, because I would have been able to know my grades)

That said, I managed to have a most excellent adventure last night with three other friends from school. We went out for a celebratory dinner, and then headed back to a friend's house who lived nearby. From her apartment, we could look down on the street below where the cars were not moving. At all. For 30 minutes we looked down at the chaos below, and cars didn't move.

And so we four social workers started feeling bad for the people stuck in their cars, and decided that we would make cookies for them. So off we trekked to the supermarket a few blocks away (stopping to help push a minivan into the parking lot on our way) to buy a few tubs of ready-made Tollhouse cookie mix and some candy canes, then back to the apartment to make the cookies, and then out to the street to spread our cookie-love.

It was fun. There were many drivers that ignored us, or rolled down their windows, heard that we were offering free cookies, and then shook their heads and rolled them back up. But there were even more drivers who got big smiles on their faces and thanked us. One man said he'd been in his car for 3 hours, and he had only come from 2 miles away. Another woman said she'd been in her car for 9 hours trying to get home. These people were exhausted and though we couldn't get them home any more quickly, we could at least give them a moment of happiness with a chocolate chip cookie or two.

The Dangers of December

1. Lack of sleep. This lack of sleep can come from the increase in studying and papers due, or from the inability to sleep due to a freezing cold bedroom. If you're battling both, forget it.

2. Anxiety-provoking Patriots games. I'm glad I was in the library and away from the television for most of last night. In the end, though, the Patriots (and my lucky underwear) came through.

3. Icy sidewalks. I walk a mile and a half each morning to the hospital. Usually this walk takes me 30 minutes. Since the snow/slush storm yesterday, and the subsequent plumeting temperatures, the sidewalks on which I walk to work have become trecherous, and my walk time has increased by at least 15 minutes. I am forced to do the funny penguin walk in an effort to keep from slipping. (Sidenote: Dear Trader Joe's, You know how much I love you, so please love me back and de-ice the death traps that are your sidewalks. Thanks! -Fibby) And as if icy sidewalks aren't trecherous enough, today I faced...

4. Wild turkeys. Yes, it's true, Brookline has wild turkeys, and they hog the sidewalks and make awful noises and look like they're going to charge at any minute. Always fun to be on guard against a wild turkey attack first thing in the morning.

A longer post later on the excitement that was my weekend (hint: it involved electricity and the fire department), but for now, back to work...

Just guessing...

Just found this among the photos from Karu's wedding in June (which, amazingly, I never posted about!!!), and I'm guessing it could explain why I'm still single.


Yes, that's me (and Pete!) doing the Thriller dance, and it is what is going to help me keep my sense of humor in the middle of finals madness. Just thinking about what an utterly awful (and hysterically funny) photo it is makes me laugh out loud. So if any of you are bored or just having a bad day, this post is for you.

Love in an Elevator

So I was heading up to meet with my supervisor last Wednesday, and hopped in the elevator as I always do. There was a man in the elevator - probably a relative of a patient - who nodded at me as I got in. I smiled back at him and at the two nurses who were also in the elevator. The elevator stopped on the third floor and the nurses got off.

"How's your day going?" asked the man.

"Pretty good, how about yours?" I answer (elevator chit chat is a common occurance in the hospital)

"Ok." pause "So, are you a nurse here?"

"No, I'm a social worker."

"I'd love to take you out sometime."

At this point, as if on cue, the doors opened and I stepped out onto my floor, flashed a big grin, and said, "You have a great weekend!"

A gentle let-down for him, and a good ego boost for me.

Never a dull moment in this place.

Thanks. (again)

I was making a list in my head yesterday as I drove up to Maine of things I wanted to remember to write about in this post, but after a day of cooking and eating and playing one of the longest games of Phase 10 ever, I can barely remember one. I wrote a fairly comprehensive post last year and after reading it just now, I am at a loss as to how to say thanks this year better than I did back then.

Nonetheless, here is my Thanksgiving post. Not nearly as comprehensive or well-written as last year, but just as heart-felt.

This year, I am thankful for:

- Family. All of 'em. The ones who raised me, the one who grew up beside me, the ones who saw me through all of my awkward phases and loved me just the same...

- My grandmother moving to Maine, because I get to see her almost every month now instead of every few years. Not only do I see her, but I get to hear stories about her life that I might never have heard otherwise - stories about how she and my grandfather got together, and about her time living in Boston when she was in her early 20s, and so many other fun things. We get to go on lunch dates and play canasta and we laugh a lot. And I think it means just as much to her to get to know me as an adult as it does to me to get to know her on a different level now too.

- Friends near and friends far. Friends with whom I have entrusted secrets and fears and who have entrusted me with the same. Friends who open their doors to me whenever I can visit. Friends who send random email forwards that I hate getting, but kind of like because I know it means that somebody out there was thinking of me for a second. Friends who are popping out babies left and right and who are letting me share in their joy and excitement. Friends who call me out of the blue just to say hi.

Some of you know and some do not that this was a tough fall for me on many levels. The combination of school, internship, work, and life that I was balancing overwhelmed me and there were times when I felt lost. Whether you knew that or not, the amount of support I received from many of you through emails and phone calls and hang-out time and text messages and comments on this here blog was hugely significant to me.

Thank you all for blessing me with your humor and your kindness and your listening ears and your love. I am lucky to know so many great people and I'm so very thankful to have you in my life.

Happy Thanksgiving 2007.

They're back!!!

It is the time of year when my absolutely most favorite treat is available!

Go directly to Trader Joe's.

Buy some.

Your mouth will thank you.

Misery, thy name is...

... grad school.

Apologies for the lack of updates/musings/links as of late. There was a tiny window of time when I wasn't slammed with 600 kinds of papers to be writing all at once, but that time is gone, and it's now full-speed-ahead until December 14th.

I went to another baby shower a few weekends back, and this one was at the home of the parents of my best friend from elementary school. I hadn't been back to this neighborhood in probably 15 years, so it was pretty trippy. I drove by my old house, which has been painted three shades of ugly since we moved out in 1990, and then on to my friend's parents' house which flooded me with memories the moment I walked in. Building obstacle courses in the tv room, playing out in the back yard... it was fun to re-discover memories like that.

MOMP had her baby, which is all kinds of exciting, and I am impatiently waiting for a break in my schedule so that I can get out to meet him. Congrats to MOMP and husband!

I'm heading up to Maine for Saturday night to celebrate Dasein's birthday, which will be a good break for me. I was originally going to try to stick around in Maine to watch the Pats game, but I think there is too much writing to be done to be able to justify that - especially since I'm babysitting on Sunday night.

So the boringness of this post pretty much explains why I haven't posted in a while, but I got feeling bad (not as bad as Dasein should feel - no trip log yet and you've been home 3 months!?!?!?), so I had to write something.

Next up: the annual Thanksgiving gratitude email.

Team Spirit

First, let me say that I am tragically sad that The Decemberists concert, which I was supposed to attend tomorrow night, was cancelled. I really am. Because I heart The Decemberists.

However, I also heart the Patriots, and the concert being cancelled ensures that I am able to catch every second of the Pats-Colts game tomorrow. There is so much hype around this game they've even had daily news stories on NPR about it. Crazy.

Before I tell you the next part of the story, I need to explain that I have a slight obsession with socks and underwear. It started over 10 years ago when I was at summer camp as a counselor trainee and we all went to WalMart one night and purchased Mickey Mouse underwear. They were fun (and funny), so we purchased more. By the end of the summer, I had an incredibly large collection of underwear that featured cartoon characters. I no longer have cartoon characters on my underwear (mostly because they stopped making them), but I do like to have a good selection of underwear that have stripes or colors or that are in some way more interesting than just plain colors.

The sock obsession came a few years later, when I got my first pair of "fun" socks. Now I own lots of them, and I can't stand wearing boring socks. It keeps me from taking myself too seriously when I have to dress professionally for work (or any day, really). I can look professional, and then I sit down and my socks become visable, and they have pigs or monkeys or bright colorful stripes on them and people can see I'm not as serious as I look. I have Red Sox socks that I wore all season, and Patriots socks that I wear on Sundays so I can subtly show my team spirit.

Anyway, the point of telling you all that is that I was shopping for World Series gear the other day and happened upon a discount rack of Patriots gear, including half-price Patriots underwear. Being the true fan that I am, I purchased a pair with no hesitation and I will be wearing them tomorrow.

Go Pats!

I Heart Free Air Travel

So I returned home from class tonight to find an email waiting for me from Southwest Airlines with the subject heading Bonus Credits for a Hometown Victory. They're giving me 3 bonus credits (16 equals a free flight, so 3 is no small change) because THE RED SOX WON THE WORLD SERIES. This email makes me want to say publicly (to the handful of you who read my blog) that Southwest, despite its cattle-call boarding system, is pretty awesome.

Speaking of THE RED SOX WINNING THE WORLD SERIES, I was walking to school from my internship tonight (both which are near Fenway) and there were no less than 4 helicopters and one blimp flying overhead to report on the fans gathering to welcome the players back home. It was fun to be that close.

Not sure yet if I'm going to be able to sneak away from my internship tomorrow to see the start of the parade, but I'm gonna try!

This past weekend was my a cappella group's 45th reunion, so I spent the weekend in cold and rainy Vermont singing my heart out with about 60 other women. It was an amazing weekend, and energized me in a way that I really needed. I came home feeling refreshed and ready to tackle the second half of this semester.

Also (this is BIG news!), I came home to newly washed sheets. Ok, the sheets being clean isn't really big news (ok, it kind of is), but what IS really big news is that before I put my clean sheets back on, I put my heated mattress pad on my bed. Then I went away for the weekend, so last night was my first night of the season with the heated mattress pad. For those of you who have never experienced the wonder of the heated mattress pad, let me just say this: mmmmmmmmmmmmm. Despite my bedroom being somewhere around 50 degrees last night (here's why), I was snug and warm.

Almost took away the sting of my fantasy football team losing yet again.

Almost.

Lots going on...

...too little time to write about it.

For now, I'll leave you with these thoughts:

1. I heart The Sports Guy. A lot.

2. It is really fun to be in Boston when all this winning is going on , but I will say that I miss being a fan on the west coast when the games ended at 9:30pm instead of 12:30pm.

3. As I already shared with some friends via pix message, only in New England would one go to see a play on a Sunday afternoon and get football score updates on a whiteboard. I love it.

4. Oh yeah - almost forgot, I also heart Fitzy.

Yahoo Mail Beta Has a Great Sense of Humor

A while back, I wrote about how werewolves had taken over my email.

Tonight, as I wrote an email from my Yahoo account, I went to edit the subject heading line, and accidentally hit the "subject" button to the left of the text box. Right before my eyes, the subject heading changed from a boring "hi" to "I've never seen a man eat so many chicken wings." I clicked it again, and the subject heading changed to "You can't make friends with salad."

It's called the "Subject-o-matic" and it is brilliant.

(Other great lines include "Did you or did you not order the CODE RED?!" and "I'll transfer your skills to the legumes")