Woof

I am pooped today, p-o-o-p-e-d. The world is feeling like a very sad place. This blog is feeling inconsequential. As am I.

There are always bright spots, though. Tomorrow I will be traveling to the greatest rummage sale in the WORLD. I am hoping to get a lot of fantastic loot for a small amount of money. A friend of mine is going to be there as well; we're hoping to catch up, but it's going to be after the sale, because during the sale we might have to punch each other out to get what we want.

Well maybe not punch each other out. Maybe just bloody each other's noses.

Country Update

Well the black flies have arrived in Concord. Which means I spray myself with a fine mist of deetified bug spray before going outdoors. I've worn Maxi-Deet, which is 100% Deet, hiking, which melted the lining out of my raincoat. It was PolackPappy's (the Deet, not the jacket), purchased for a fishing trip in northern Maine, where the bugs are horrendous.

I shan't be dousing myself in that again anytime soon.

But I'm not enough of a hippie to just wear citronella bug repellent. Because honestly? It doesn't work. You know what does? Deet. I'll be sure to post if I start growing any vestigial appendages, nipples, or otherwise, but nothing weird has shown up yet. What's especially amusing is when I go hiking with OSB. She won't wear Deet, but walks close enough to me so as to enjoy the bug-repelling benefits of the cloud of it that I give off.

In other Country news, I saw a patch of Johnny jump-ups in the yard. And when I went for my run today, a chipmunk with an acorn in his mouth crossed my path.

I don't think it was the Magic Weather Chipmunk.

Hello, Magic Weather Chipmunk who lives in the sky?

90+ degrees in APRIL is UNACCEPTABLE.

Where is my spring, motherf&*%er?

You still have a chance to redeem yourself.

Sincerely,
McP

A-sortin

Turns out I had a couple of boxes in the barn here at the McPolack homestead that needed going through, so, with Ethel the barn kitty rubbing her drooly maw in my armpit, go through them I did.

I managed to toss a fair amount of stuff-multiple copies of my college newspaper, a few junky paperback books. But I couldn't bring myself to throw out the pulp hardcover kids books from the '40's and '50's, which belonged to my mom and aunts. So Cherry Ames, the Brownie Scouts, Freddie and Flossy and Bert and Nan Bobsey, and Honey Bunch and Norman, are staying. I can't decide if keeping stuff is like dragging a ball and chain around behind you, metaphorically-but even if it is, I guess I'm not ready to be free of it yet.

Feeling better

Went and saw OSB's new place yesterday; she's in one of the historic Harisville houses now. Unfortunately the person who lived there before really crapped the place up. Fortunately OSB was able to, with some sweat, turn a lot of the crap around. The best feature by far is the hobbit door in baby Lucy's room, which leads to a secret, sunny, skylit playroom.

Later we went to the town beach, a five-minute walk away. Then we came back and peeked in peoples' windows (no one has moved in yet), a fine New England tradition. In the past there has been what I like to call "light B&E," which involves going inside unoccupied houses and poking around.

Then I came home and went for a run. Which was terrible because A, it was hot, B, I drank like a gallon of ice coffee beforehand, C, I was exhausted and D, I was still sick. Ugh. I had to walk in a couple of spots due to cramps. But a sh&tty run is, IMHO, better than no run at all.

Today I have to go to church which, ugh, because it's my parents' parish and their priest is unbelievably slow. I can't get out of it because they need me to deliver their weekly tithe. I also said I would do some work, again, blech, as it is gorgeous. But I'm hoping for a better run today, and may check out the LL Bean outlet on my way back from Mass.

*&$#$# I am ruining my makeup

I'm at the McPolack homestead for the week while McMumsy and PolackPappy visit London. I had a crappy night of sleep last night owing to a cold, and to not being in my own bed, and to a certain corgi waking me up by banging his beak on the door at 1 in the morning.

I've been dreading coming here, just a little, and I finally realized why: because the last time my parents left the country was when Babcia died. I showed up, they gave me the news, and left for Ireland. And I felt really, really alone.

Of course I know I'm not alone. But when I got up this morning and noodled around on Facebook, and looked at pictures of my friends with their families -- husbands and kiddoes -- I felt, and feel, at least right now, deeply, deeply sad. Which is fine. It's good, even. Human emotions run the gamut. They're supposed to. And it is SO much better to let stuff out than bottle it up and let it poison you.

But still. The tears are messing up my makeup.

Achoo!

I am sick again. Thankfully it is not Lyme disease, a distinct possibility given the number of deer ticks I discovered on my person last weekend. Just a garden-variety season-changing cold.

I've been doing some transcribing again, interesting stuff -- first an interview with Noam Chomsky, then some intellectual historians discussing Noam Chomsky (among other things). They used the words "counter-hagiography" in reference to a New York Times article that called David Foster Wallace a metaphysician. This pissed them off. They thought he was just a writer. Honestly the historians came off a little sour grapes. I suppose one cannot help using giant, ridiculous turns of phrase when one is in an environment where that's how people speak but when it bleeds over into the Internet (I was transcribing a podcast), well, someone's got to put a stop to it. Unfortunately as I am paid to transcribe accurately, that someone will not be me.

Anyhoo have been quite busy as of late, which is good. Tomorrow I'm off to NH where the critter:human ratio will jump from 1:1 to 4:1.

I am only a little bit afraid.

Well didn't they just go and hire someone from Fargo to do the English version

FYI: This is a little gross.

Bendy wendy

I've gone to yoga twice a week for the past two weeks and I've really noticed a difference. I can yank my parts farther in whatever direction I'm being directed to yank them in. In an effort to meditate more I've been getting to yoga early enough to sit in silence for 10 minutes beforehand. Well I've been trying to get there 10 minutes early.

Today I decided I'd meditate through the entire class, by being mindful and in the moment. Unfortunately, the minute I opened my eyes from the five minutes of meditating I'd managed to do before the start of class this boob next to me asked if I would move my mat over. Girlfriend had an ocean of space already, and I'd been trying to leave space enough between me and the person on the other side so someone else could fit in there if they wanted. Of course I obliged the woman, and in doing so knocked someone else's stuff over. I realized I was fine where I was in the first place. And that this woman was a complete fire trucking SOB.

And there went my mindfulness, G-damnit.

I did try and get it back and was successful part of the time. The other part of the time I spent, ridiculously, thinking "look how far/how straight/how high I can do X, Y, and Z compared to your sorry, space-hogging ass." Yet another part of the time was spent berating myself for being so ridiculous.

It's an interesting thing to live inside my head, I tell ya.

Guess where this is?

It's a new game! Where do you think I found this lovely statue?


I'll give you a hint: not at the Big Balls and Bum-Holes Museum.

Price Choppa

I think I may have finally found a decent hairdresser. My hair had gotten loooooooooong and, unfortunately, ratty. It was contributing to my generally feeling like sh*t. I found out there's a place near my apartment that cuts hair for 35 bucks, which is a bargain around here.

My hairstylist was a lovely Italian lady who spent the first 10 minutes trying to sell me a couple of different products. "This is from one peanut tree in Morocco," she told me, of a hair product she also rubs on her body. "Feel my skin!" I felt her skin. Then it was on to another product which, in all honesty, made my hair a little greasy.

Then she shared, as hairdressers and people I've never met before in general are wont to do, intimate details of her life. Not super-intimate, but I did find out she'd grown up around here, gone a little wild, and been shipped off to Florida. Now she's studying sociology and law and told me she learned from studying the former that they used to chop off peoples heads if their eyes were too close together.

But it's what she didn't say that sold me: No snarky comments about my home-dyed hair, no snide remarks about how long and meh I had let it get. I told her to chop off what she had to; she cut half a foot. I'm OK with that. She told me I should get my hair cut every three months and I thought, you know what? I'll gladly come back and see you in three months. I think part of it was surrender, for me. I'm never going to find the perfect hairdresser. But I'll gladly give my money to a lovely local Italian Catholic girl who does a fine job on hair and has a good outlook on life.

Everyone's a little bit liberal

I was listening to "On Point" on NPR last night and Vivian Schiller, the new president and CEO, was a guest. She had the balls to say NPR doesn't have a liberal bias. Her argument was that its listener base was balanced. Um, what? It was pretty annoying having to listen to PR pablum on what is purported to be "Fast, fun, serious, surprising. Open to everyone. And above all, unflinchingly honest."

Fer Chrissakes, NPR, just now I heard a little ditty you did about the first piece of music parents play for their newborn babies. What kind of music do you think won out? Hmm, could it be Coltrane and Bach? Yeccccccccccccccccccch. (I should note I don't feel yechy about C and B; I feel yechy about the ridiculous elitist boobs who wax poetic about playing C and B for their newborn babies. God, we get it, you're sophisticated.

On the music front, I heard NPR playing some Beck earlier today. If that's not the mark of a news organization with a liberal slant, I don't know what is.

Aaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnddddddddd...

...I don't have anything really exciting to report. Easter was the usual. Went to Target with Dr. Moo and her bf; used some of my gift card from the marketing folks to buy a wackadoo bra on clearance that has clear plastic strappage, including between the boobs. Speaking of the boobs, mine these days seem to be more off than normal. And by that I mean one is like a cup size bigger than the other. The bras I've gotten all fit boob A perfectly. Meanwhile, boob B is constantly making a break for it. I'm also all about those t-shirt bras with the padding but guess what happens if you bend forward? That's right, your boobs fall out, and if you're in public you've got to find a nondescript way to tuck them back in.

Anyhoo, on Sunday we all got up for 8:00 am Mass, where I told Dr. Moo's bf, after we'd renewed our baptismal vows and the priest had gleefully roamed the aisles spraying us all (and drenching Polackpappy) with water, that surprise! he's now a Catholic. Then we went home and ate bacon.

SNL is getting good again...

Happy Easter

Oh, New Hampshire...

This depresses me. Partly because I'm still holding onto the hope that I'll move back to NH, north, live in a wee house with a lot of land, and be able to support myself. And partly because I spent so much time unemployed, listened to so much advice, went to so many job fairs.

OK I went to one job fair. It was at Fenway. It wasn't a complete waste of time because I'd never been to Fenway before and I got to check out the Green Monster. But it's just so depressing to wait on line with tons of hopeful folks who've read or haven't read What Color is Your Parachute? and are just so--unemployable. That's the first word that comes to mind. Because that's how I felt about myself, that I was this great unemployable lump.

I don't feel that way anymore, not really. I do think I'm a bit un-American in that I don't have this wicked drive to succeed and amass a bunch of crap. I wish it was worth peoples' while for me to write the sort of stuff and I do here, and be helpful and kind, that it paid enough to live comfortably to have that be my job.

The more positive tack for what happened at that job fair today is that maybe some folks got networking done while waiting in line, and commiserated a little, and didn't sit home all day in a funk. I'm thinking of them all surrounded by positive energy and love right now. Corny, yes, but it's free to do and I think it helps.

Licking It

I just bought a loaf of bread at a bakery near my apartment that could kill a man. It's loaded with fruit and the top has these sharp poky points from where it was slashed before baking. I'm bringin' it home for Easter!

In other McPolack news, I may have found a cohost for my as-yet-to-be-named cable access show: JM, who went to college with me and was the first guy to tell me that if I wanted to show a fellow a good time I should lick his butt.

Well I have yet to lick anyone's butt, thank you very much. Could that be why I'm still single?

My visit from the tooth fairies

Walnut e-mailed me a couple weeks ago about some market research her place of employment was doing for a tooth whitener. They wanted women from the ages of 35 to 45. Last Thursday at 10 AM, ding-dong went the doorbell. I opened it to find M and K on me stoop. They explained that they travel the country finding out how people are living in the new economy so they can better pitch their product.

Mostly what they did was ask me a bunch of questions. Oh, and they took pictures of...everything. My desk, my loo, my kitchen, my kitty, my dusty ADD piles. M noticed something I'd never noticed before "You seem to have a lot of animals that have been repurposed as other things," he said, while snapping away. Then, "oo, is that a cow creamer?"

I do in fact have a a lot of animals repurposed as other things. There is the elephant who lives in my bathroom and gives me showers with his trunk. Also the taxidermied dog toothpaste dispenser -- you pump his tail up and down and Crest comes out his butt. Plus the crocodile that's a watering can -- water comes out his snout.

(One of those is real, BTW.)

In all fairness to M, I do in fact have many animals that do other things. That he picked that up really impressed me.

K was even more impressive. This is why. Yup, that's her and her sister. Holy awesomeness.

Anyhoo after chit-chatting for a bit we headed out for a stroll around the neighborhood. We had lunch -- well the tooth fairies had lunch and bought me a pizza to go -- then coffee (and they bought me a sticky bun to go). Before they flew away I got 250 bucks in Amex gift cards for my troubles (desperately needed as I had/have 25 bucks in the bank right now) and a tooth whitener to try out. Oh, and many happy memories...

Critter Crossings

Had another tiring day and not feeling peppy enough to give the visit from the tooth fairies justice. Instead I give you this.

I used to get picked on when I worked in the Monadnock region at a place where we'd go for long walks at lunch every day, walks on which I would help whatever critters I found in the middle of the road get to the whatever side of the road I thought they were trying to get to. Sometimes I would get peed on, but I didn't mind. I'd help snakes, turtles, frogs, salamanders, and even earthworms. I drew the line at slugs, but it hurt my heart a little.

My response to the snarky comments made by my walking companions was that if I ever got hit by a car and was laying in the middle of the road and couldn't move, a whole team of snakes, worms, turtles, frogs and salamanders would pick me up and move me to safety.

Too much coffee

Yug. Overdid it on the caffeine this afternoon and now I am a cranky, jittery mess. Meditated for 10 minutes and it made me feel a little better. Baked as well, which seemed to help. I need to post about my adventures in advertising but I think I'm going to hold off until tomorrow. I will offer a teaser: one of the people who came to hang out with me today made a series of dog poop videos with her sister.

Awesome.

20 mules

I bought a big box of Borax recently and have started using it around the house, partly because toxic cleaners scare me, and partly because I have romantic visions of being a housewife in the 1920s wearing an apron and scrubbing the kitchen floor.

I also use vinegar, baking soda, and occasionally lemon to clean things. One of my favorite things to do (well favorite when it comes to household chores) is to unclog the bathroom sink with baking soda and vinegar. First you get the mini-volcano -- exciting! Then you pour boiling water down and listen to it gurgle. Finally you plug up the drain hole at the top with TP, get out your plunger, and plunge that mutha until the big ball-o-goo breaks up and shoots globs of weirdness out and the schwooooooooook! It all goes shooting down the drain.

There is something to be said for Drano, though. I just tried for the third time to fix the bathroom sink, but it's still running slow. I almost had it last night but Bethanny was about to get into it with Kelly on the Real Housewives of New York so I had to go.

G-d damn my life is exciting.