We Now Resume Our Regularly Scheduled Programming Already in Progress

So, anyone notice that I've been gone for a week?  For you, at no additional charge, a recap of the week gone by (photo essay style).

To start, there was my godchild, Owen's, Christening on Saturday. I'm proud to report he did very well; no crying and thus making the other children look like a bunch of wimps in The House of The Lord. Nicely played, kid.

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Sunday, a soccer game which once again I found myself eating dirt. Not much new there.

Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday was Cape Code with Mike, my sister Kate, her 2 kiddies and her Aunt-in-law Mal.

I must add, this trip gave me an even greater appreciation for moms. I mean, 2 small kids, one only 2 months old?! It's like fighting a two-front war. God, NEEDY MUCH, KIDS? Heh. I also must've read And I Mean It, Stanley to Sarah at least 20 times. It got to the point where she was (truly) memorizing the words on the pages by herself. For a sec, I thought the 2 year old could read. We also played baseball and every hit of hers she'd run in a straight line  back & forth cheering, "Home Ruuuuuun! Home Ruuuuuuun!". Very cute, even if I did do all the work for her.

Also, I had my first bologna sandwich in about 15 years.  Now I remembered why I stopped eating them.  I think I need to eat something which has a discernible origin. Who knew?  Who also knew that were it not for the fact that I have to work, that I'd be a Judge Judy addict?

Wednesday everybody had left the Cape but I stayed back to bop around Harwichport and Chatham. And, having no particular place to be and not being limited by time got to hang out in bookstores and boutiques for AS LONG AS I WANTED and damnit if I didn't try on every pair of trendy, overpriced jeans and yet still went home empty-handed. AUGH!

(Pictured above: Sarah checking out an "older man" on the beach. This should be enough to give her father a heart attack, recover and then sign her up for the convent while simultaneously calling contractors to dig a moat around their house, no?)

Wednesday night I received a phone call from an old friend, Helen of "Say it to my face, butch" fame.  This would mark the first time in all FOUR AND A HALF YEARS that I've lived here that she's met me in Boston. And she was here for work. And I won't add she called only when she got here and realized that, "hey, I know someone who lives in Boston who is a dear old friend who I love more than life and breath and a 75% off sale at Ann Taylor".  No, no. I wouldn't add that.

Note: the green top I am wearing is completely awesome (you can't see the sash on the side thing. V. cute) but when we had the picture taken, it looked like the top was doing something weird ripple thing around my boobs as shirt is kinda shiny and... just trust me, it looked weird). As a result, I asked Hel's work colleague, 50-something Carol (you'll recall she was here for work. I got to meet 3 of her brand new work peeps, one of which being her brand new BOSS) to take our picture over and over ...and over again. Yes, I was THAT girl.

Exhibits Alpha thru whatever:

Do Over, Part I: You can't see my hand, but I am trying to smooth out the hideousness that is wrinkled boobage by pulling down on the shirt.

Here we are trying to hide the hideousness that is wrinkled boobage by hugging:

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Here I am trying to hide the hideousness that is wrinkled boobage by standing behind her.

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Still not satisfied with the shot, I implore kindhearted/humoring Carol to yet again take another photo (at which point I think she is about to spontaneously combust). I decided to let my hair down for extra "hot" factor (as by now I am no longer keen on my hair) and asked Carol, "so, whad'ya think? hot?" to which she dryly responded, "well, it'll take the attention away from your shirt."  Ouch.  The truth? She hurts.

For some reason, Helen has decided to (accidentally) get me to flash some boobage (what - can't you tell?), which 1) I'm not that kind of girl, however, 2) it did seem to help with the shirt issue. That's a wrap, folks!

By 11:30 we leave her work folks and stop off for one drink and wouldn't you know, we find a place with a pool table.  If you didn't know, Helen is THE Black Widow (well, sort of. she does wear a lot of black and is very good at pool and of Asian descent). Incidentally, she also responsible for having taught be to play back in the early 90s. We played three games and guess who won? ME! Granted, she kept scratching on the 8-ball when I had like a kajillion balls left on the table but BESIDES THE POINT. The last game I won "sort of fair and square" (she did tell me to bank the 8 instead of the cut I was going for, and kindly pointed to where I had to hit it to make the shot).

Here is the BW Knockoff (tm) playing pool. She is so quick-like in her movements that she is blurry. This is not special effects, people. This is how she looks when she plays. Blurry.

Also, Toto's "Africa" came on the jukebox. And really? I challenge you to find a better song. *Everyone* at The Beantown Pub was singing along to this 80s cheese draped classic. Awesome.

Afterwards, she asked if I wanted to check her $300/night room. There we got to raid the fridge and when asked what I wanted (Snickers bar? Pringles? M&Ms?) I told her I couldn't make up my mind between the Toblerone bar or the Pringles so for her to decide (my personal Sophie's Choice: chocolate? or Potato Chips? gah!) She snagged both. A testament to our friendship I think.

Here is what 10 bucks will get you from the mini-fridge:

Add a bottle water like we did and we're talking abut $15. Yeesh.

I did crash at her swanky place (king-size bed with puffy mattress with one tiny person, or a full-size bed with one giant who snores. Now you tell me which one you'd take.) The next morning, she had to get ready for her meeting. I felt all Julia Roberts-like (sans hooker stuff) promising, "three thousand gets you the week" and then imagined myself going to some Back Bay  boutique to buy some "respectable" clothes only to be dissed out of the store. Embarrassed, teary-eyed, I'd recount my tale of woe to some Hector Elizondo-looking concierge and then he'd help me get a private appointment with a upscale shop and then I'd go back to the original store that dissed me all, "commission much, bitches?" and laugh, oh, how I'd laugh!

Er, heh. sorry.  back to reality...

Also, staying at a hotel during the middle of the week in the town you live when there is no function (i.e. bachelorette party), when you leave in the same clothes as the night before at 7:30 in the morning, not matter how innocent? You still feel, uh, what's the word I'm looking for?.....dirty.

Then Thursday was Game 1 of the Sox/Yankees series which I went with my Uncle John & his fiancee, Karen. (Thanks, John!). A great game (much more exciting than the Pirates game) and well, it was great until as the Herald called it, we got "Schill-acked" and A-Rod hit a 2 run home run in the top of the ninth. But I still got to see Schilling pitch which was awesome. And see a Yankee game in Boston. Awesome. And I ate a three-quarters of a bag of peanuts by myself, a slice of pepperoni pizza, ice cream and downed 3 overpriced Miller Lites. Awesome, awesome, awesome and awesome.  (and yet I continue to be surprised when my pants get snug.)

Friday was another beach day at Horseneck Beach, then dinner with Mike's folks and then headed to the Cape that same night. Saturday was a full day at the beach with Mike's sister, Anne and her boyfriend and then grilling and more food.  My tan is officially in full bloom. Sweet.

And finally, Sunday morning had a soccer playoff game which we lost 3-0 thus concluding yet another season. This made me sad (except for the fact that now I have my Sundays back). While I managed not to get thrown into the ground or given black eye this time, however, this time a large guy (well over 2 bills) came off the field and was starting towards me.  This had been the guy who had been bitching and yipping to the refs the entire game. He stopped, put both his hands squarely on my shoulders, took his foot and stepped on mine - not hard but enough to make a point and said in a serious tone, "so, how does that feel?". I just stood there completely stupefied, mouth agape with the only thought being, "the fuck?" He then got off my foot and managed a "just kiddin - haha" as he walked away.  My buddy, Steve, sensing my lack of words being a function of my complete and utter shock spit back, "passive aggressive much?"  God, what a tool.

So anyways, that's where I've been and what I've been up to. I'll be putting a bunch of pictures up on Flickr soon, too. Be on the lookout.

Comments

[Sarah]

Jen-your niece has already mastered the art of manipulation-she knew full well that you would have read that book to her 100 times if she wanted you to. Ask Jess how many times she put together puzzles with my daughter last time she stayed with us. Toddlers are very sly..and smarter then we think!

[Jennifer]

You are so funny with your camera shots!

[Once More]

"master" is an understatement. yes, I am totally sunk w/ this kid. Who else can get me out of bed willingly before 9 a.m. on my vacation days? Woken with "Hi Jennie! what ya doin?...will you play with me?" (uh, sleeping but I guess not anymore) Their cutenes is not part of their appeal but their deception! I'm sure of it.