The New England Society for Tea Fetishism

So Sarah returns to blogging. I'd have to check my archives, but I have a feeling I've used some version of that title before. A lot has happened between my last blog and now. I got a job, I went to quite the party at Tracy's new place, Tracy got a newer place because the first place burned down - you know, the usual.

I don't remember how many people came, but if you total up everyone who came and left during the night I'll bet it was around 20, maybe 25. Tracy and I made some dangerously tasty punch with red and green Hawaiian Punch (in Rubbermaid pitchers for easy access). The red had no name but I delighted in telling everyone that the green was called "I Thought It Was Punch, But It's Not." Now, if you don't get that one say it out loud a few times and remember that I have the sense of humor of a 12-year-old boy. Also, we loaded it with chunks of pineapple, lime, orange, and some maraschino cherries. I dominated at beer pong with both of my wonderful partners, Tracy and Aaron. I didn't play too many games, though, since the plan was to get pleasantly buzzed, not stumble-down drunk. Strangely enough, the plan worked. Bed time came around 3am. I slept on a cot and shared the guest bedroom with a young gentleman who was a good friend of Jeff''s from college. After the lights were turned off, said young gentleman laid down on the floor instead of his bed and proceeded to vomit on himself. Then he snored. Then he vomitted some more. And he snored again. I was very tired, so it didn't really bother me until some sort of gas escaped while his stomach muscles were pushing up the rest of his Red Bull and Vodka. Sounds I can sleep through, but smells? I took the mattress off the cot and slept on the living room floor, and in the moring entertained everyone with the story of the midnight bomber what bombs at midnight (for you Tick fans out there).

Later in the week (after having sent out e-invites for the next party) Tracy called and asked me to guess how she spent her Valentine's Day. My last guess would have been that she stood outside in her pajamas (okay, her underwear) in the beginnings of an ice storm and watched the back of her apartment burn off. I was like "No way," and she was like, "No, really," and I was like "No fucking way!" I absolutely could not believe it. She lived in an old house that had been converted into first and second floor units. The back of the house was an edition. It was caused by one of three things: faulty electrical wiring, the second floor tenants threw a cigarette out onto their porch, or the crazy kid who used to live there set it on fire (long story). My first thought was "Oh my god, all her books!" Fortunately, none of Tracy and Jeff's stuff was ruined. She thought the mattress and the couches might be smoke damaged but everything aired out nicely. And now they have a multi-level place in Marlborough and have already sent out invitations for another party. I'm just glad that if it had to happen it didn't happen the night of the party, because there were several heavy, inebriated boys passed out in that house and I don't think that Tracy and I could have hauled all their asses out the door.

And, the job. I got a temp-to-hire position at Brigham and Women's Hospital in the dermatology department which is actually located about a block away from the main hospital in a satellite office. I started at the beginning of February and they just hired me last week. My official title is Receptionist/Check-In II. When you go to the doctor's office, I'm the person who checks you in, takes your co-pay, makes sure you have a referral, and makes you fill out that information form you fill out every frickin' time you see your doctor. I also open, which means I get there around 7am, change the dates on the card stampers, unlock the doors, and print up all the paperwork for the next day's patients. I really like the people I work with, I'm never bored, I'm getting paid more than what I got at Marders, and the health plan is fantastic. Not to mention the perks. I got 10% off my iced coffee at JP Licks yesterday just because I was wearing my ID. They offer discount tickets to museums and events and amusement parks, discounts for cell phone plans, all kinds of stuff. I think I might stick with this job for a while.

Labels: Good News Everyone, Out and About With Tracy

I am in so much trouble. I just discovered YouTube.com. They have episodes of The State. Guess what I did until one o'clock this morning? They have "Toothbrush" and "I'ma Da Pope-ah" and "Doug" and "Superfriends" and "Eating Muppets" and "The International Sign for Choking" and a boatload of stuff I completely forgot about. Like the "Monkey Torture" interview-- "Get yourself a monkey and torture the hhhell out of it." MTV needs to put that shit out on dvd. Right now I'm listening to a live performance of Radiohead's "How to Disappear Completely." Christ, I might have to add a YouTube link to the bliggety blog.

Have you seen Kiss Kiss Bang Bang? Awful fucking title (or completely fucking brilliant?), but a great take on the buddy cop movie and film noir. And my favorite film narration evar. Yes, I said it. Evar. Although it's hard to go wrong with a nice Morgan Freeman narration. Another film to recommend, the Hong Kong thriller Infernal Affairs. (This is the part where I confess to having a crush on Tony Leung Chiu-wai, but only when he sports the goatee) It was on one of the Starz channels a lot last year, but with a hideous English dub that made it unbearable to watch. I got the dvd with English subtitles for Christmas and I finally watched it yesterday. It's about a triad gang member who infiltrates the police force and a cop who's been undercover in the gang for three years, both of them trying to find each other out. Scorcese's doing a remake with Matt Damon and Leonardo Dicaprio called The Departed.

Tracy and I finally made it to the Weathervane where we got sandwiches and clam chowder and generally just ate too damn much. A lady behind us made a complaint about all the "little rubbery bits" in her lobster roll. Also, I don't think she knew it was going to come with mayo. Methinks she may have been from out of state. Like, Wisconsin. On the way home, as I sucked on a mint and related the story of how NYC radio show hosts Star and Buckwild got fired, I nearly choked to death. It went something like, "They got fired because . . . . . . hhhhrraraaaaaghghghghhghhhhhh." And it was incredibly funny, mostly because Tracy had no idea that my trachea had been invaded by a starbrite and just kinda thought it was part of the story.

Hey Amy, I spent a good portion of this afternoon messing around with the monotypes. It took me a while but I found the right amount of ink to roll on the glass (correct answer: very little) and got to it. I think I might try out a multi-media thing since I have all these unused brushes and tubes of watercolors. And a very nice fountain-style pen. I missed having ink under my nails.

Labels: Amatuer Film Critic Corner, Out and About With Tracy

I went to the Willows with Tracy yesterday, my first trip to the beach since I've been home. Well, not exactly a trip to the beach since we went there to eat Chinese food and gossip and not to swim, but one of us did end up getting wet. Speaking of Chinese food, I'd like to take this moment to declare my undying love for scallion pancakes. They are so. effing. good. So we ate our food and took a little walk (Tracy practically spoon fed a squirrel a piece of pineapple so he could get it before the seagulls barged in and stole it) and came across this spot on the rocky beach where the tide was coming in and making a neat little pool. As is our wont, we climbed on the rocks and watched the rain come in over Beverly. After a discussion of some our indiviual drunken escapades Tracy noticed that the water had come up the beach and made her bottle of water float away, but of course, we stayed where we were because, hey, we could jump it. Turns out we couldn't jump it. Still, optomist that she is, Tracy gave it the old college try. Thanks to a slippy rock, she landed in water up to ankle which splashed all the way up her thigh. I took off my shoes, exposed my unshaven legs to the world, and waded to shore. Tracy was gracious enough to let me fish her water bottle out of the waves and use it to wash the sand off my feet before putting my shoes back on. Fortunately, she had an extra pair of pants in the car. Unfortunately they weren't hers, they were green velvet, and the car was about ninety degrees inside. It was a lovely day all around.

Labels: Out and About With Tracy

The other evening, Tracy picked me up and told me that we were going to the porn store. Her boyfriend's younger brother's girlfriend, Helena, came with us. And the weird thing is that once we got going she forgot that she'd already told me our destination, so when I asked "Where are we going?" as in, "What purveyor of explicit adult toys and videos will we be visiting this evening and where is its location?" she kept shushing Helena. It was on route 1, in the same building as a Japanese restaurant and a billard room. And after being treated to a story about how the last time they'd gone there Helena's driver's seat was pushed forward as if someone had climbed into the back and gotten cozy for a bit, we parked all the way at the end of the lot, next to the woods, and just about as far from the entrance to Amazing Adult Video (or something like that) as possible. It was a learning experience. Some of it was intriguing (where do you put that?) some of it was comical (tiny penis paperclips) and some of it was downright frightening (huge black dildo shaped like a billy-club) Don't even get me started on the videos. All in all, it would have been a good experience were it not for the middle-aged gentleman stalking the porn section and looking at us over the shelves. That felt . . . wrong.

Of course, after that we had to go bowling. But not before we stopped at Kelly's and got me some fast food because it was bordering on 9pm and I forgot to eat dinner before I left. I also forgot how much I love bowling. Candle pin bowling, that is. Regular bowling makes me feel like my fingers are going to slip and I'm going to maim someone. Maybe myself. The pathetic thing is that the next day my legs were sore, the hamstrings especially. Bowling, the sport of old, fat, Polacks (hi George!) made it hard for me to walk down stairs. The good news is that lunges seem to work some great muscle groups.

Yesterday was our bi-annual trip to the Weathervane in Kittery. Tracy and I left at 11:30 and made it to the restaurant by 12:15. It makes me glad that during the whole trip my gaze never fell on the speedometer because she must have been booking it. There, we gorged ourselves on golden fried seafood. Our waitress was strangely chatty. She asked us if we "do this often," and then said that she had "seen us out in the parking lot." What do you say to that? Umm . . . thanks for noticing? And there was a little too much approval about our orders - "Good choice!" The exclamation point was totally there. She was a bit perplexed when we got excited over the amount of squid bodies we got with our calimari (you know, the little bunches of legs?). I guess she's not a fan of the majestic squid.

After we rolled out of the Weathervane (and a quick trip to the bathroom where Tracy had to let me know that according to the stall graffitti, someone hates Joan. I can't concentrate on peeing when I'm laughing) we went down the road to Yummies, where they supposedly have 10,000 lbs of candy out on display (any locals watch Phantom Gourmet? You know that commercial) and even though I was stuffed to the gills (whoops, fish pun) with seafood, I had to buy some maple sugar candy. And chocolate Necco Wafers. And some molasses puffs. And some fried peas. And pop rocks. And a chocolate lollipop for Tracy. I wanted to buy the set of little chocolate bottles filled with liquor (they called it liqeur, and I'll give them the Grand Marnier and the Kalua, but Jack Daniels and all varieties of Stoli are straight up hard liquor) but I didn't want to spend that much money.

Back at the Maison du Tracy we tried to feed the dog pop rocks by putting them on a biscuit but he ate the damn thing so fast he really didn't have time to notice. Then we made a pudding-filled white cake with her Betty Crocker cake set that she got for Christmas. It was a perfect little dome covered in chocolate icing. Fairly simple to make, although it still took us about four hours to get everything cooked and assembled. Fried seafood for lunch and cake for dinner. It was a good day.

I must also note that Tracy is my hero, for going by the mint basket (wrapped starbrights, mind you, not loose buttermints with fecal matter) and grabbing a giant handful with the hostess standing right in front of it. Huevos, I tell you.

Labels: Out and About With Tracy

No, really, I swear. Last night Tracy and I went to the Friendly's on 114 and got ice cream sundaes for ourselves and the three beef-jerky eating boys in Jeff's basement who were watching the Pats/Jaguars game and probably giving each other Dutch ovens while we were out. When we got back to Jeff's house they were all sitting on one couch, each with their own blanky. The ice cream was great, especially since I forgot to eat dinner. See what happens when your mother goes out of town? (Incidentally, there is a big strike going on with Verizon employees in New York and . . . other places - I wasn't paying that much attention during that conversation - and my mother is now working strike duty on Long Island for three weeks, not an hour away from my apartment. Of course, she asked to be placed there before she knew I'd be home for a long and indefinite amount of time. Some luck, huh?) After we were done we were all dealing with the dairy aftertaste and asked Tracy for some gum. She handed out what little she had along with some Ninja Turtle gum that was hiding somewhere. Jeff was very keen on the Leonardo piece for some reason. Dave asked for more gum, explaining that the Ninja Turtle tasted like candy, so he swallowed it. Well, there was no more gum to be had, so Tracy gave him two squirts of her Listerine breath spray. For reasons I can't remember, Dave did another five squirts and ended up drooling all over himself, his blanket, and the couch. From there it escalated into a contest to see who could do the most squirts, which ended with everyone in the room (except me - I ate a honey roasted cricket once, isn't that enough for you people?) taking a squirt up the nose. I have no idea what Jeff's parents were thinking, what with all the cries of "Do it!" and "You have to inhale," and "My nose is burning, but it's cold, too," rising up out of the basement and into the living room. After the Listerine madness subsided there was a lot of talk about the chemical properties of mouthwash and how it's perfectly fine to force it into your nasal cavity, right? Because your throat and your mouth and your nose are all connected, so it's really just like putting it in your mouth. Of course.

Is anyone familiar with Victoria's Secret underwear? (or panties, as Nicole Bonenberger would hate to read. Remember her issues with that word?) Do they go up higher in the back specifically so they'll peek out the top of your pants, or is it just me? I got medium bikinis, but there just seems to be a little too much material and I refuse to believe that Vicki's thinks my ass is actually a small. They must fiddle with their sizes to make people feel better about themselves, like that time I tried on pants at The Limited in the Montgomery Mall and found that even the 4 was a little loose. That is some rather impressive size adjustment, believe you me. I was a medium at La Senza and those fit fine. God, I wish I knew they were going out of business. I would have sent Tracy some cash and had her stockpile for me.

Labels: Out and About With Tracy, Shopping