LUMBERJACK EXTRAORDINAIRE!!

I figure if this museum-thing doesn't work out, then I'll become a Lumberjack waaaaay before I become a Barista. Now I know your thinking that me becoming a Lumberjack is just a natural evolution because it requires five years of an art history degree, not to mention that I look fab in red flannel now that my hair is dark-brown.
However, it has become one of my job requirements...apparently. During the monsoon of last week, I tree fell and blocked the entrance bridge to the preserve in which I work....well, me and 15 others. I may review the resumes of my 6 workers who found the tree, because they couldn't figure out how to move it. I'm hoping their brain power was just cluttered from a week of gray clouds.
Upon my examination I came to the conclusion that I could simply break the tree into smaller pieces and then throw them over the bridge. Without having the appropriate tools on-hand except my body I used the most powerful tool I had .....my butt.
Let me paint a picture for you.
Me, in the driving rain, sporadically jumping up and down butt- first onto certain sections of the down tree. Finally breaking the loose pieces with my foot. My 6 workers in their cars with headlights shining, watching their "boss" "butt-break" a tree.
If that doesn't demand professional respect I don't know what does.
The kicker: only after everything was almost cleared, and my ass had a million bruises on it, AND I was drenched and dirty - one of my workers asked if I needed any help - typical man.

I now have 1 more female worker on my team, and one less man.

FLOATING AWAY

Though I'd like to say that I'm (mitten quotes 'cause baseball season is over)"floating away" because of my cloud nine emotions from THE SATANS LOSING. However, my parade has been rained upon...literally....for 40 days and nights. Okay, maybe 4 days and nights - whatever. Living alone makes it feel like 40 damn it, just call me Moses or something. (side note: Halloween costume?)
Over the weekend my cottage sprung a leak - which of course I could have predicted a-gazillion times over. Every living thing from animals to insects are running for shelter....RIGHT INTO MY HOUSE.

Don't get me wrong, I've never been one to wish harm to anything (except for a few exes) or deny something warm shelter and food, but I saw a wee dead mouse in my "driveway" that had obviously drowned. I walked by it thinking, "eeewww, that's gross. Thank God you died here and didn't get into my house." Then ran over it unintentionally...oops.

I'm now a cold-hearted, callous, wanna be (and sometimes am)murderer of wildlife. People do you not see how this Evil Empire is seeping, like the rain into my subconcious?
This is not good.

End note:
NEENER YANKEES!!

LET THE TRUMPETS HERALD!!

Monday, September 20, 2004
WELCOME TO HELL SEASON....

WARNING TO ALL BOSTON TOURISTS
....yeah, you might want to re-think that.

Upon experiencing the weekend a$$-raping by the NY Satans, Sox Nation has entered HELL SEASON. Therefore, I feel the need to warn those not "lucky" enough to STILL BELIEVE, of the social barometer of Boston during the Red Sox playoff season.

We, as members of Sox nation, dread this time every year. However, we take full responsibility for our actions (or lack there of) during late-September to ....well, who knows really. As individuals we experience symptoms that may be equated (okay, not) to Bi-polar Disorder, PMS, Multiple Personality Syndrome, and (if last year repeats itself) Severe Depression......all rolled into a suffocatingly nice ball, called The Curse. Which we conveniently throw at the NY Satans...or any other team/individual that pisses us off......including Boston tourists if necessary.

To avoid this from happening, let me be your Vergil in this Divine Comedy I call Sox Nation.
1. Stick to sight-seeing: You're a tourist, this is what you're good at ...so stick to what you know. Museums, acquariums, duck-tours.
2. Avoid game-related areas: Contrary to every tourbook you possess, Fenway Park is NOT for sight-seeing....unless, you're a Parrothead. This is ground zero and a highly volitile area, where most of the burnings will occur, whether we win or lose. As well as, all sports bars and local pubs - especially in the Fenway area (this isn't rocket-science people). Believe me, even if you could get into a sports bar/pub during the play-offs (the lines are usually longer than the Sox's World Series draught), its just not a good scene for a innocent family outing.
3. Fake it: Whether or not you are a Sox fan, or even a baseball fan....YOU ARE NOW. Like a three-dollar whore on her first night at work, YOU WILL FAKE IT. For the sake of safety to yourself and your family, you should not speak of the Sox/Sox Nation with any trace of disdain in your voice. We can smell fear from a mile away and we'll send you to the worst parts of town if you then proceed to ask us for directions.
4. Accepted attire: If you'd like to endorse a team, your options are: The Sox or The Pats. The other two aren't worth mentioning. Other teams are an option, but the amount of ridicule and embarrassment might not be worth it. GOD HELP YOU IF YOU WEAR ANYTHING YANKEE RELATED.....your grave will be dug - Whitey Bulger style.
5. Don't feed the animals: All Sox fans will be alcoholic-bi-polar-insomiacs running purely on caffiene and the hopes of winning the next game. You can spot these people by the dark under-eye circles (those are not bums in The Commons, those are business people trying to catch a nap), incessant mumbling to oneself about last nights game or spontaneous high-fiving to complete strangers because of last nights game, a poignant body odor mixture of alcohol and stale coffee, more frequent use of explitives and the middle finger. The later serves a double purpose, whether we win or lose, we always use this finger to show that the Sox are #1.
IF you spot one of these individuals, DO NOT SPEAK OR LOOK DIRECTLY AT THEM. Like watching a car-wreck , JUST KEEP MOVING, AND NO ONE WILL GET HURT.

Please, consider this a public service announcement that should not be taken lightly. Abide by these rules, and I can assure you that your stay will be most enjoyable.

WELCOME TO BOSTON!!

One month anniversary...

Sorry that I haven't posted in a month, but I'm still recovering from Kate's birthday, where I've made one solid conclusion: I HAVE A GREENCARD HOVERING OVER MY HEAD. In the words of the most wise Kate, "Stay away from the Europeans, Melis." - though this seems to be unavoidable.
Kitty O'Shea's was awesome and a much needed stress-reliever. Can't wait until next year, Kate!

Of course the MOST talked about event happening: The Soxs and Yanks shall go at it once again - and once again for all the marbles. (side note: do people still play with marbles?...or have i just totally lost mine). There's only one place i could think of to fully enjoy this battle of Good versus Evil. So I will be making another voyage (meaning across LI Sound) to sit on a barstool at my favorite Irish pub to watch these games. Where I can yell at them in peace-and....er quiet.

There are three other events going on like dinner at my boss's house, a birthday, and a housewarming....but that's neither here nor there. However, all these combined with The Rivalry, which was the creamy chocolately icing on the cake, definitely warranted a 4 hour trip.

So let this be THE OFFICIAL START TO HELL SEASON, otherwise known as The Play-offs. As a small tribute to this glorious occassion and the sadder fact that it will be my first Hell Season outside of Boston - my next post will be a re-play of my Hell Season blog from last year.
GO SOX!!!

THE DAY I WEPT...

for the entire day...continuously with indescribable joy and anticipation of visiting Boston for the first time in 3 months.
A tear shed:
When my ferry reservation from LI to CT was completely wrong and I was forced to "stand-by" until the next available space opened. LI wouldn't loosen its grip on me...

Two tears in a bucket:
Finally on the other side of the pond!!!!....then, Providence is anything but with bumper-to-bumper on 95.

Squish, squish:
Watching the Boston skyline appear before me while the sun sets over the city....still in traffic. Hold on my love, I'm coming!! You are within reach now...

Weeping openly:
Saturday night. Walking out the tunnel into the most glorious site. The infield grass looks greener than I remember, the crowd more hopeful, and the twilight more heavenly. Fenway Park never looked so amazing, and I wept because I was home.

LIVING ALONE.....

in the woods....has its perks. Strutting around nude is a frequent occurrance - as well as, cooking nude, dancing nude and talking on the phone nude. Nature has brought me back to "nature", and I like it. For the first time in 10 years I'm living alone and basking in the sun of secluded exhibitionism. Though I may want to buy curtains at some point because I think the bunnies outside are becoming offended.

Things do get a bit scary at night when non-city noises are still stange to hear or big thunderstorms give me flashbacks of childhood and I find myself in fetal position with my bed covers over my head. I'm so accustomed to having few people around me that when someone, like a Nassau County police officer, comes banging on my front door late at night I jumped about ten feet in the air. At the very moment when I'm nude and pirating the internet off a neighbor's phone line. Convinced he's there to arrest me for one of the aforementioned reasons, I hide my laptop and throw some clothes on. Fortunately for me the officer wasn't there to cart me away....unfortunatley he informed me that my neighbor's house alarm went off and that he didn't even know my cottage existed (translation: if anything were to happen to you, nobody would ever know).

"Hey Jenny, could I sleep on your couch tonite? I'm thoroughly creeped-out."

EARTH FROM EVIL EMPIRE, COME IN PLEASE...

Journal entry 1:
Where did these people learn how to drive?..."Sorry officer, I'm from Boston and I didn't know talking on my cell phone while driving is illegal in this state." - $150.00 fine = PRICELESS. "I'm sorry officer, I'm from Boston where illegal U-turns are completely unheard of." - $150.00 fine = ABSURD!!

Journal entry 2:
All the pubs in this town are owned and operated by the Irish. IMAGINE THAT!! (therefore, guess who is a favored patron amongst the lad bartenders - none of which have shaved heads.)

Journal entry 3:
1..2.....663.....825.......1,467......5,000 bugs I kill in my cottage everyday.
If there is such a thing as Karma, I'm coming back with 8-legs and bubble-eyes.

Journal entry 4:
A tree spontaneously combusted at work today. Still waiting to see a man in a white robe walking around with stone tablets.

Journal entry 5:
Capitalism is a WONDERFUL THING!! A mani - pedi for $19.99 is allowing me to understand why all Lawgilan women are constantly groomed and have mastered the Cantonese language.

Journal entry 6:
Heard a Boston accent today and it sounded "weird" to me. WWWWAAAAHHHHH!!!

Journal entry 7:
Went to a Mets game today with Evil Empire fans. Apparently nobody but myself saw this as going against God's plan. Although I was shunned like an ugly stepchild, I still wore my Sox hat loud and proud.

Journal entry 8:
Went to The City today (meaning NYC - for my Boston peeps) with my friend's 17 y/o sister. While in a store (which I won't mention for fear THEY will be greatly embarrassed) trying on some jeans, the "saleswoman" said to her when she asked my where-abouts, "Oh, I think your Mother is still trying on her jeans."
Melisa then proceeded to find the nearest corner, curled herself into fetal position and is still trying to find her "happy place", convinced that this place is truly, truly EVIL.

DURKEE OUT.

INTRODUCING THE NEWEST RED SOX FAN

INTRODUCING THE NEWEST RED SOX FAN
Originally uploaded by madasilem.

...though she may not appreciate this title...yet. Hannah Elise Durkee was born on May 29th on her grandma's birthday. She's just as beautiful as I expected...then again, is anyone really that surprised since she is my niece? Get ready people, tons more photos to come.