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April 29, 2004

abbadee abbadee

Goddam we are worthless. California has been fun, and relaxing, and not relaxing, and sunny, and cloudy, and delicious, and bumper-to-bumper, and tiring, and nostalgiac, and full of beautiful people, and full of guys who all spike their hair up the middle the same way, and full of cable that we don't have at home including every MLB game on demand, and hilarious, and distressing, and... and we still can't think of anything to say.

Red-eye tonight to NY, train to DC, home on Sunday. Keep yourselves entertained.

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April 27, 2004

Interlude

We're so sorry, this week is proving much more packed and harried than anticipated. We can hardly keep up with our stock portfolio. Kidding, as if we have one. Anyway, we'll just leave you with this tidbit for now: Have you ever been to a wedding on the beach at which there were buckets of beer at the end of each aisle, and where the cowboy officiating the ceremony stopped just before the vows at the request of the bride and groom to make sure the guests had the chance to grab another? And where the groom walked down the aisle carrying his baby daughter?

Yeah, we didn't think so.

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April 21, 2004

Get your kicks

Tomorrow, Girl-E leaves on her Spring '04 four-city tour. First is the Fung Wah Chinatown-to-Chinatown-for $10 trip to NYC-- an absolute peach of a guy got her and The Dude Yankees-Red Sox tickets for Saturday night at Yankee Stadium, and they're going down a few days early for... well, it's New York.

Then on Sunday morning at 6am, while everyone else sleeps off the stadium beer, Girl-E hops a plane from JFK to San Diego for a wedding on Sunday afternoon. You see, she is firmly committed to the ideal of having your cake and eating it too whenever humanly possible. So passing up Yankees-Sox tickets, even the night before a wedding 3,000 miles away, was not an option. Hence the o-crack-hundred flight. So Sunday wedding (check), Monday visit other high school friend's new baby (check), then drive up to L.A. to see mom, cousin, other friends (check, check, check. Just kidding to her mom, you're not a check, you're a given).

THEN, red-eye overnight on Thursday to New York, Acela to DC on Friday morning, Friday afternoon wedding. Acela to Boston on Sunday. Probably some Holocaust Museum in there somewhere (The Dude's never been because the last time they went to DC she was working for a Holocaust Education organization, and she was like, so not in the mood. But she's promised this time).

So we may get here again before the trip, but if not, take good care of yourselves until we can post again from L.A. Mwah!

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April 20, 2004

Just a little Word Up

CW is a very clever kid, and people apparently always do what he says. Who are we to be defiant. Go visit his Vanity Project, admire the hotties, and send him some vanity of your own.

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Hello Sunshine

Last week, that was just the name of a really great song. This week, it is a legitimate Tuesday morning greeting, and Girl-E could not be happier. That seasonal affective shit is no joke-- the difference between the wet gloom and today's brilliant blue sky is at least 3.2 points on the L. Ron Hubbard Emotional Range Scale (we only know what that is because Girl-E recently found herself in the captive audience of Scientologists. No one should trust people that content). It's hard to complain about the age of your work facilities when your large woodworked window looks out on a green college courtyard rimmed with oaks and redbrick, white columned buildings. It's somewhat easier to complain when there's only one bathroom on the floor.

This change of seasons (and we mean real change, not that fraudulent farce that happened on March 21st) practically decrees to embrace the heathen in us all. For example, Girl-E was reading her grandfather's book on Quaker philosophy, and yesterday traded it out for Valley of the Dolls. Last night, nothing seemed more natural in the world for a Monday than to be sitting in a dark club at midnight listening to local musicians play like school kids with the perfect toys of vocal jazz standards. Today she's seriously considering having ice cream for lunch. Hell, maybe she'll pick someone off the street and buy them ice cream for lunch. Anything can happen when you leave your jacket at home.

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April 19, 2004

Run, Lunatics, Run

Today, as you may know, is The Marathon. Just as New Yorkers are allowed to call it The City, Bostonians are allowed to call it The Marathon. It makes us real proud that our city is the home of the world's most famous masochistic crazyfest. Not that we didn't suspect before that it's the grossest day of the year anywhere, but this is hard proof. And this year should be extra special nasty, because though it snowed not a week and a half ago, today it will be 86 degrees. Girl-E doesn't even like to walk to the post office around the corner in 86 degrees. We'd say we admire the runners' dedication, but really, we really don't. Maybe in the abstract. But definitely not in the delerious, nad-chafing nipple-bleeding reality.

Today is also a strange Massachusetts holiday known as Patriots' Day. Whether this honors American Revolutionaries or linebackers we have no idea, but who cares really. While Girl-E gets pretty much every holiday known to man off from her employer, this one somehow got left off the list. She has taken it off in the past, but today is not one of those days where this is possible even at all. In fact, she has her review today. Party till you drop.

By the way, if you are thinking "hmm, I'd really like to find something to make my week," go see Kill Bill Vol. 2. That Tarantino, he is a little dickens, that one. As a teaser, here are three of our favorite things: 1) The beard stroking; 2) Daryl Hannah's little notebook; 3) The pregnancy test.

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April 17, 2004

Don't ask us, we just work here

Hi.... we don't have a lot to say at the moment... Girl-E has gone into hyperspaz too-much-to-do-too-little-time-too-many-distractions mode, and she is way too erratic to write anything interesting about. One problem is that she's going a'travelin' next Thursday for a week and a half in New York, San Diego, Los Angeles and DC (any of you who were reading last May and remember the Istanbul-Boston-San Diego-Boston-Istanbul in five days will notice a pattern). She recently realized that over the time she will be gone, her boss is giving five speeches. That are her job to write. And at present, she is stupid. So it's gonna be a moronic coupla days.

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April 15, 2004

Loose cannon

Girl-E is having one of those weeks where every emotion or impulse she feels is magnified four times its raw state. And since she is a generally emotive person anyway, this makes for embarrassing circumstances. For example:

- The Today Show had a feature this morning on Sarah Jones, an amazing comic artist who is gathering celebrity fans by the hundreds, including Meryl Streep who liked her so much she threw all kinds of money into her one-woman show. It was a pleasant little profile piece, but Girl-E saw it as encompassing the entire concept of realized dreams, and she wept in rapture.

- Adopting the identity of Slackmaster this morning, she was still home when Live! came on. And she decided that Kelly Ripa is one of the funniest people in showbusiness today.

- She was reading the Weekly Dig on the train this morning, where one of the political editorials made reference to kissing babies only in order to see how they taste. She started laughing so hard that she almost knocked out the guy sitting next to her, and 45 minutes later she hasn't stopped, and we expect that every time she thinks about it today she's going to have to close her office door.

In other news, go right now to visit Excursus! for the best damn children's book about John Ashcroft ever. And please keep in mind that the shared credit is excessively generous.

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April 14, 2004

Enough with the drag kings already...

But not really. Finally, the real story is up and published. And if you're in Boston, on every other street corner.

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April 13, 2004

Also...

Another blues review for the fans. All two of you.

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1994 was a big year for Celebrity Death Pools*

As we mentioned recently, Girl-E's senior year in high school was actually pretty eventful, in the most stupidly teenage way possible. But eventful none the less. Ten years ago yesterday, the kids were in the thick of prom date intrigue and desperation. Unlike Girl-E's date, who enforced a self-made policy to always think carefully before accepting lest the girl god forbid get the wrong idea because you know he already told her three years ago they were just friends, Girl-E's best friend Stacy spontaneously accepted a prom date that was quite unwanted upon reflection. Suspecting that said very nice but slightly lame boy might in fact have the wrong idea, Stacy was writhing in guilt and regret, mostly regret that prom night was clearly going nowhere, god willing. A fairly earnest person, Stacy pretty much managed to let this problem put her in the foulest of moods. Ten years ago today, this mood pervaded Stacy's brow, all the way through sixth period English. As they were leaving the room, their lovely and sensitive teacher stopped Stacy in the doorway, pulled her aside and said "Stacy, I'm concerned. I can tell something is wrong, and that troubles me. ... It's about Jackie O., isn't it."

As you might imagine, the fits of hilarity which seized Girl-E at that moment did not help anyone's grieving process one bit.

Jackie, you were an icon of our time. Well, clearly not our time, but someone's.

*For the uninitiated, a Celebrity Death Pool is like Fantasy Baseball, except your team is made up of famous people you expect to die within the calendar year. Obvious goners do not qualify (i.e., Bob Hope would have been ineligible for 2003). Yes, we know, it's sick. But there is often a sizeable amount of money involved.

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April 11, 2004

Cute and fuzzy bunnies

Preface: It is no secret that Girl-E has a severely conflicted relationship with the church, so days like today tend to push her crazy buttons and how. Our apologies in advance to any of the faithful who might take any offense whatsoever. Not that we're terribly worried about you people, but just in case.

When Girl-E was growing up, Easter exclusively meant the following: Chocolate-- shitloads of it; egghunts, and her rabidly competitive need to win them; toys-- when you're an only child, the Christmas/birthday presents that would have been given to siblings go to you at Easter. It was a while before she found out that the Easter Bunny doesn't put Barbies in everyone's basket. At any rate, besides maybe one or two Easters that her father was alive, she doesn't recall church playing any kind of significant role; she and her mother lived as would any nominal Quakers in Southern California (hint: Quaker migration from Philadelphia really went only as far as the Underground Railroad would take them).

Of course she was aware that Easter had something to do with Jesus, and we'd guess she gleaned the whole story at some point in high school. In college, her new love affair with singing motivated her to join the University Chapel Choir, which allowed her to sing some of the prettiest stuff ever, and paid $5.50/hour for rehearsals and Sunday service. Able to drag her sleepy or hungover ass to the chapel probably 7 out of 10 Sundays, it was a smallish price to pay for Brahms, Britton, and free bagels. She and her roommate kept themselves groggily entertained in the chancel, writing notes on the bulletin or repeatedly poking their friend Boomer.

For the last several years, however, she has had to adjust to the reality of having married into the Christian Left. Which means, in case that's less than clear, that while her second family attends a church that stands only for peace and tolerance and is about 60% gay, they do infact attend church. Her attendance has decreased to pretty much zero now that she's cashed in all her brownie points, but holidays, as family time, do usually involve a service, which she attends for reasons of her own brand of peace and tolerance. Last year, they were on the southern coast of Turkey, so needless to say there were no issues. This weekend, the fam chose not to stay in the city for Easter but to spend a few days at the vacation house in New Hampshire. Which ended up meaning that today's Easter service was taken not at hippie church, but at church-in-the-middle-of-cute-little-Americasville-New Hampshire.

This of course shouldn't be a big deal, not every hour in one's life can be thrillingly right up their alley. But for some reason, today was reminiscent of what it felt like to wake up in the middle of the night at a slumber party and forget momentarily that you are in a zipped-up sleeping bag on the floor instead of your own bed.

So what is the point of this story? Not much we can think of, besides the following: 1) In the future, if you know you're going to be attending a traditional Easter service against your deepest inclinations, do not spend all day Saturday reading about Zen Buddhism; the contrast will transform minor irritation into frantic rebellion. 2) If at all possible, have the mimosa first.

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April 09, 2004

Open enrollment

Time is scarce today but we wanted to make this brief announcement: Girl-E is starting a Mai Tais & Mexican Food Club, and appointing Bryan as V.P. and Girl-C as Publicity Manager. Please sign up below. Those interested in officer positions should submit a 100-word essay comparing/contrasting EITHER chipotle and habanero salsa OR Malibu and Parrot Bay.

Posted by The Twins at 10:19 AM | Comments (10) | TrackBack

April 08, 2004

Calculated spontaneity

The plan for Girl-E's evening could not be more custom designed for her state of mind right now:
1) Bust out of work early to have vanilla fig manhattans with two of her favorite busting-out-of-work-early-for-drinks people.
2) Sing for 90 minutes at her voice studio while the guy in the next room stomps gleefully on the floor as if to break down the building while poorly singing that song he sings every week which we can't think of right now.
3) See Particle at the Paradise Rock Club, the mid-week rock club of champions.

Sorry kids, we got nothin else at the moment. One of those days.

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April 07, 2004

And speaking of parents...

Today would have been Girl-E's dad's 61st birthday -- we'll be listening to some Puccini and Springsteen tonight in his honor.

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Sometimes, when a girl and a boy like each other...

When you receive an email from your mom in which the first sentence is "You know, I have failed to initiate a very important mother-daughter talk that we should have had weeks ago," it is perfectly natural for your first reaction to be chest pain. Frantically scanning your brain for what "talk" hasn't been checked off, or what you might have done to cause tension, or how the hell could she know about THAT from 3,000 miles away... and we honestly can't say whether or not Girl-E felt relief when the next sentence turned out to be "Who do you think should win American Idol III?!"

The saddest part is that she gave a detailed answer.

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April 06, 2004

Excuse us while we lift a classic Blogatron post format

Confidential to the person who found us by searching for how+to+look+like+Jennifer+Garner:

We would love to tell you, really, but we sold the rights to that secret process just last week, and the last thing we need is a legal battle, what with how busy we are dealing with Girl-E and all the messes she gets into as the world's hottest ass-kicker. But good luck!

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April 05, 2004

Nevermind

Ten years ago today, Girl-E was pretty much as hopped-up and worthless as anyone in the spring of their senior year of high school. She already knew where she was going to college, sold her seat for the Calculus AP to her friend Adam because the idea of sitting for it was ludicrous, asked her 9th grade boyfriend to the senior prom, took it pretty much in stride when he asked her if he could think about it, was totally over getting suspended that one time earlier in the year, couldn't wait to dump her job at Target like immediately, spent every waking moment eating rolled tacos at the beach, and generally cared about nothing except counting down to the summer and wondering if she'd ever have the courage to jump her non-boyfriend (different from the 9th grade boyfriend) who was just as skiddish and pathetic as she was (the answer turned out to be no). Ten years ago today, Girl-E skipped out of her house in this seventeen year-old stupor, and discovered that the thirteen year-old boys down the street had taken big fat chalk to the street and covered the asphalt with the world's biggest 13 year-old boy tear-stained "WE LOVE YOU KURT". He was our Lennon. Or not. Either way, let us take a moment of angst-ridden silence.

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April 04, 2004

The sun left no forwarding address

Um... so, it's been spring for like, two weeks... and today is the first day of daylight savings... and THE FUCKING EARTH IS ENVELOPED IN AN ENDLESS GRAY BALL OF GLOOM. We are near to going literally crazy, and we're damn chipper compared to Girl-E, who is having seasonal affective shit fits right now. Of course once it gets hot and humid, she's twice again as bitchy, but all we're asking for right now is several weeks of plain old spring.

But in the meantime, we'll listen to "Bad Babysitter" by Princess Superstar like five hundred times, which is arguably almost as good.

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April 01, 2004

Johnny Walker Blue

Along with Starbucks, the world is ruled in part by a certain national glossy magazine which each year generates the Big Fat List (big fat is the theme of the week kids) ranking institutions of higher education. Every institution says it's severely flawed and deceptively simplistic, and an insult to the field. Every institution busts its balls every year to make sure they maintain or improve their ranking, dammit. The degree of this hypocrisy increases the more elite the school. It's hilarious.

One of Girl-E's lofty responsibilities at work is to collect and develop her institution's submission for the survey. Sounds kinda neat (if you're into that), but until you've done it you don't know from stress. Every day being told what a pointless and ridiculous exercise it is, and we can't believe we stoop to it. Every day being told we better fucking not drop because the world and everything we've worked to do from the history of our founding will be meaningless with a lower rank. The best part is, the mag doesn't reveal which of the bazillion criteria it's going to use this year, so the pressure not to miss a single decimal point in the submitted data is severe. Her anxiety that a drop on the list would be blamed entirely on her incompetence or treachery or whatever is quite elevated. The whole thing is the definition of absurdity.

Anyway, after white-knuckled months of waiting, the rankings are done. They're embargoed until tomorrow, so we can't say much, except that she's not throwing herself out the window.

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