Charlie and The Post He Didn't Think I'd Write

disclaimer: this entry is frivolous, ridiculous, silly, and otherwise absurd. It was written for the benefit of Charlie who said he didn't think I would do it, which is kind of the equivalent of giving me a triple dog dare.

Once upon a time there was a kind elf named Tim who lived in the magical land of Somerville, which should never be confused with the 100-acre-woods or the Shire because Tim does not consort with hobbits or pants-less bears.


Tim would claim to be unpleasant, cantankerous, and pessimistic, but his kindness would shine through whenever he stopped at the nearby apartment of 4 Mormons (Sporty, Geeky, Confused, and Spicy) providing them with home cooked meals and 2 liter bottles of Diet Coke.

He even subjected himself to experimental hair-bleaching without grumbling (see he's smiling).


Then one day Geeky saw a cartoon about Charlie the Unicorn in the magical YouTube window.



When Geeky showed the cartoon to Tim, Spicy, and Sporty, they all started to laugh because Tim is Charlie the Unicorn, except Tim still has both his kidneys and isn't a unicorn.

And that is how Tim the kind elf came to be known as Charlie.

The End

Row, Row, Row your boat.....

This last weekend was the 44th Head of the Charles Regatta. People come from all over the world to compete in crew races in the Charles River (aka Dirty Water).


For my friends and family who are unfamiliar with crew, if you'll watch any movie about prep schools on the east coast (Dead Poets Society, Skulls, With Honors, School Ties, etc.), at some point you'll see in the background six guys on a boat rowing in unison. That's called crew. You can also row alone on a similar boat and it's called sculling.

Anyway back to Head of the Charles. I've lived here for a few years now, and I had never actually been to the race. It's pathetic, I know, so I made darn sure that I went this year, and I was ready for the excitement and energy that accompanies any race. I have to admit that I wasn't quite sure what to expect.

When we showed up on the banks of the Charles, boats were in the water, people were rowing, but there was a lack of yelling or cheering as well as side-by-side competition, so to quote my friend Brad "When do the races start?" As it turns out the races are timed trials as to discourage 6 boats going neck to neck down the river. I guess that makes it easier for the crews to focus on avoiding things like rocks, bridges, and geese, but it's not terribly exciting.

So why do so many people attend a race that isn't much of a race because you can't really see who's in the lead? According to my friends it was the free samples. All along the river there were tents set up. Some were selling pizza, other's t-shirt, but the one's that had the longest lines were the one's that were giving away free things like freshly baked cookies, juices, and kashi cereal.

My theory is that the Head of the Charles simply provides yet another excuse for New Englanders go outside and enjoy the autumn weather before we are all driven inside for the duration of the frigid winter. All in all, the day was beautiful, the people were wonderful, and I had a nice time, so I would have to say that it's an event worth experiencing.

It Came to Pass

When asked for my favorite scripture, I simply say:

"And it came to pass"

It occurs over 450 times in the standard works, and whenever I come across it, I'm reminded that the sad, bad, unpleasant, boring, intolerable times in life will pass--sometimes like a kidney stone--but they pass none the less.

Winston Churchill once said, "If you are going through Hell, keep going." Every story is a tragedy if stopped at just the wrong place, but if you can keep yourself going in a forward direction, your story could become anything from an inspirational drama to a romantic comedy.

My problem is that I'm one of those pesky people who likes to read the last 10 pages of a book before I'm half way through the story. I simply prefer knowing what sort of ending to expect before I get there, so I find it annoyingly frustrating that I can't look ahead to see the exciting conclusion to my own life story.

*sigh*

I know it's really a blessing. Since I don't know the ending, I get to experience a life that is more of a "choose your own adventure " story. I make choices and witness how those decisions mold and shape the plot.........

Hey, maybe that means I get to choose the genre too. I'm hoping for a bittersweet romantic comedy (cue romantic theme music). Let's see I'll need a handsome gentleman or better yet, a sweet, kind, slightly geeky guy friend who is in the right place at the right time, to catch my eye and capture my heart. You know maybe my story will turn out just fine and perhaps my happily ever after is just waiting to happen, if I can just move past the disappointments and complications I'm facing today.

"In three words I can sum up everything
I've learned about life: it goes on."
- Robert Frost

"The best way out is always through."
-Robert Frost

Punked Out Saturday - and why I love Boston.

On my way home from apple picking yesterday, I decided to cut through Davis Square, (which parenthetically is not actually a square but a place where 5 roads intersect). The traffic was worse than normal due to crowds of pedestrians dressed for either a punk concert or a "What Not to Wear" convention.


That of itself is not terribly unusual. but the man on stilts directing traffic was.



But really it was the funky street band music and dancing that finally got me to park my car and check out the festivities.

So it turns out it was the third annual Honk! Festival, which according to the website is a time and place for mobile street bands to ".... arouse fellow travelers, to warn of danger, to celebrate milestones, and just plain have fun." In other words, have an excuse to get dressed up, get out of your house, dance, laugh, and just enjoy the autumn weather. Yet another reason I love Boston--random festivals.

I took a bunch of pictures of the crazy costumes and bands. If you'd like to check them out they are on my picasa page.

Stay tuned for next week's "Reason I love Boston" with my Head of the Charles coverage. It's going to be wicked awesome. ;)

Pick a Peck of Apples

When the leaves turn gold, red, and orange, and the morning air is brisk with a chilly crispness, it's time to go apple picking. Here in New England it's not only a tradition, I think there might even be a law requiring all persons over the age of 2 to spend at least one hour each autumn picking apples.

In the spirit of following this tradition, me and two of my roommates went apple picking today.........each with a different group of people. We really should have discussed this before hand because we now have 87% of bushel sitting on our kitchen counter.

(If you have an apple recipe you'd like to share, this would be a really good time to do so.)

My favorite part of apple picking is that you get to taste test as you go, so you don't pick a peck of putrid pomes. And if you come across an apple you don't particularly like, well you just toss it on the ground. Now that's something you can't do in a grocery store. ;)