The Saga of Lola Boolingerie

Nightmares and Dreamscapes

2011-09-12T23:13:00.003-04:00

In the Stygian darkness of last night, incongruously coupled with a full moon, I had a horrible dream that B had died. The particulars of this nightmare were indistinct. Tenuous, like the edges of the flame from a candle. I was rocked from my sleep, tears streaming down my face, the breath ripped from my lungs. An extremely rare circumstance for me, I was incapable of making any type of sound. In the wake of this horrendous dream, I began to come to my senses, and realize my surroundings. B was safe beside me, snoring quite contently. I put my arm around him, waiting for the tears to subside and my breathing to return to normal as if I were afraid that Charon himself would rip B from my grasp. We all have nightmares in this vein: something incomprehensible that we know would have a detrimental effect on our lives. Plain old nightmare? No. It highlighted something in my life that I already knew to be true, and that is I cannot live the same life without B in it. I was well aware of that fact before I drifted off into a nefarious dreamland last night, but perhaps dreams of this ilk serve a different purpose. Not to remind us of what we already know, but to enlighten us to never take for granted those blessings in our lives that have been granted us.

Bipolar Much??

2011-08-21T09:24:00.003-04:00

It would appear that Lola is a somewhat maudlin character from time to time. Since her last wayward musings, she has snapped out of her funk and realized that all things happen for a reason, whether we know that reason or not. She has also realized that in the last few months she has been extremely remiss in updating this blog. On the bright side, the picture on the blog is of Lake Winni, where she spends a week each summer, and that week is just around the corner! Woo-hoo!! Lola prepares for another interesting, and usually hilarious week with her peeps at the Lake, her annual "reset" button before tackling young minds at school. Truly important life lessons that Lola has learned in the past from camping at the lake:

1.) The bike must be in neutral to start it, regardless of its behavior in the past
2.) Noodles on for safety
3.) Beer bottles do not float
4.) Nor does a dismembered fishing reel
5.) Yes, you can wear a bridesmaid's dress in the woods. As long as there are flip-flops to go with it
6.) Poker is apparently not as hard as people make it out to be, as long as you take away all the other players' chips :)
7.) You can get moose on any article of clothing. Print, not the actual animal
8.) Yes, bears DO shit in the woods
9.) No, mosquitoes DON'T care if you are bathed in deet
10.) Anything you say in front of a toddler WILL be repeated at an inopportune moment

Youth

2010-10-17T05:28:00.002-04:00

Youth is a fickle thing. When we are young, the only thing we want is to be older, and in some cases, "respected." As we age, we realize that all we want is to be younger. The cliche that youth is wasted on the young is more true than most of us would like to admit. Lola has not lived myriad years, but sometimes she feels like she has. As she looks back on her life, she is proud of many of the decisions she has made, and not so proud of more than a few. What do we do with those poor decisions? There is always the option of chalking it up to being young and dumb. There is also the less appealing fact that yes, we knew it was a bad idea, but we did it anyway. And the least fabulous thought is that we made some of those decisions out of anger or spite. Lola unfortunately must admit to all three, but particularly the latter. She made an awfully stupid decision when she was but a young thing, perhaps telling herself that it was the best thing at the time, but knowing that the primary reason she did it was out of spite. And what was she rewarded with? Knowing that, out of being hurt, angry, and (embarrasingly) out of spite, she made the worst decision she could have possibly made. And she will most likely spend the rest of her life regretting it, and asking herself, "But what if...."

It Never Stops

2010-10-10T18:18:00.002-04:00

Just when you prepare yourself for one thing, something will completely sideswipe you and knock you off your course. I have yet to decide if this is good, bad, or indifferent. Sometimes being led (or shoved onto) a different path is good; we see and experience new things. Other times it just plain fucks shit up. At the less than ripe old age of 30, I have decided I may be too jaded for my own good. Not only am I not getting nearly as worked up about things as I used to (which, in some regards is wonderful), but I find myself completely nonplussed by most occurrences. I fear that I could blithely sit by and watch some sort of tragic accident, and only be annoyed if something were to spill into my cup of tea. I feel there must be some fine line between caring and complete apathy... I just haven't figured out how to find it.

And So It Begins...

2010-09-03T04:27:00.003-04:00

I sit here, on the eve of a potential hurricane, realizing that in a few short days work must yet again commence. Part of me (the OCD part) wants to go back through all the posts from Europe and format them appropriately. I am going to try to stay my hand on that one... a little imperfection does a soul some good. But now I must settle my wanderlust, and get back to business. But oh, how I like my vacation! On the bright side, it looks like I have a few new students... on the downside, Dean just upped my class limit from 27 students to 47... which sort of makes me worry about how many people they have scheduled for me.... God have mercy.

Thick as a Rock

2010-08-06T17:43:00.001-04:00

Interesting Bits:
There is a faultline that runs through Scotland. In fact, where Edinburgh currently sits there were 5 ancient volcanoes, long since dead. North of this faultline the bedrock is granite. The buildings in this area are made from granite, mostly in a pink, white or grey color. South of the faultline the bedrock is a red sandstone, and the architecture there reflects the natural material. Its interesting to see the contrast that is nearly a clean dividing line between granite and sandstone buildings.
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St. Andrew's

2010-08-06T17:38:00.001-04:00

On our way to Edinburgh, we stopped in the town of St. Andrew, the birthplace of golf. We walked around a bit and visited a ruined cathedral. When John Knox gave his inflammatory sermon in God knows what year, the Presbies left the Holy Trinity Church in a bit of a lather, walked down the street to the catholic cathedral (which up to that point had been the largest cathedral in Scotland), and began demolishing it by hand. It served as an unofficial quarry anytime the townspeople needed stone, now only 1 tower and a couple of walls remain.
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At The Bar

2010-08-06T17:34:00.001-04:00

Last night after dinner, Dad and I decided to go to the hotel bar for a scotch. We ended up talking to some Irishmen, who were in Scotland on a fishing trip. They found out I was a musician, and wanted me to play the piano in the bar. Turns out the lid was screwed shut, so I figured I'm off the hook, right? Nope. One of them went to his room, got a screwdriver and broke into the piano. Unfortunately it was so out of tune it was unplayable. In the end, I sang a couple of songs, they explained fly fishing to me, and each one of them insisted on giving me a kiss when I lwft to go to bed. All in all, quite a fun evening!
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Swim For Your Life!

2010-08-05T14:09:00.000-04:00

We went to a teahouse on the Falls of Feugh on the River Dee for tea and scones. Whilst dining, we heard about salmon fishing in Scotland from a fisherman, or "Gilly." I'm not exactly sure what salmon fishing has to do with tea and scones, but it was informative. We then went to the little pedestrian bridge over the falls and could actually watch the salmon swimming upstream and trying to fling themselves UP the falls. Takes a special level of stubborness to do that.
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Castles

2010-08-05T14:02:00.001-04:00

Today we left the hotel at a reasonable hour for our day of touring. First we went to a little town near Balmoral castle, the private residence of the Royal Family where they spend each August. Braemar (the little town) was cute; did more shopping of course. We then headed towards Craithie Kirk, where the Royals worship. On the way we were able to catch a glimpse of Balmoral, but my speed camera skills lacking, I decided to buy a postcard. Next was Crathes Castle, which was interesting. Built in the 16th cent, the walls are 6 ft thick, and it is definitely built for protection. Even though some of the ceiling paintings had been lost over the centuries, overall it was not as ornate as some of the French castles; more practical. Lots of furniture and artwork.
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Accomodations

2010-08-05T13:54:00.001-04:00

On this trip, we have been in relatively nice hotels, but this one takes the cake. It is a hotel and spa, that was originally owned by a man who got rich making and selling soap. The original wing looks like an old castle. Inside, there is ornately carved woodwork, gorgeous chandeliers, etc. I think I could easily live here. Too bad we're leaving for Edinburgh tomorrow.
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I Hope I Don't Jinx Myself

2010-08-04T17:17:00.001-04:00

Lola has heard such horror stories of the Scottish weather, that she has, until now, avoided mentioning it, for fear that it will permanently drive the sun away. She had been told that it was cold, dreary and rainy, but the scenery is nice. So far, the weather has been quite lucky and Lola thanks the meteorological gods for this blessing. For the most part, it has only rained at night, or in the morning when we are on the bus. There has been quite a bit of sun, and Lola even visited the pool! Granted, it's indoors, but that is completely beside the point.
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Glenfiddich

2010-08-04T17:12:00.000-04:00

We awoke at the arse-crack of dawn to begin our journey to the next hotel, which had 3 important stops along the way: Speyside Cooperage, Dean's Shortbread, and (drumroll please) Glenfiddich Distillery (by far, my favorite part of the day). The cooperage was very interesting. They mostly refurbish old bourbon casks from the US, and most of the work is done by hand. Then, the distillery. FAH-bulous. A nice tour that told the history of the company, and then a walking tour of the grounds. I had only the vaguest notion of how whiskey is made, so I found this riveting. We ended the tour with a tasting of the 12, 15 and 18 year old scotches. We ended the day at Dean's, which had a lackluster tour, but a good lunch and nice history about this shortbread company.
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A Bit of History

2010-08-03T16:36:00.001-04:00

After the lighthearted dogs, we went to Culloden to see the museum at the battlefield. Here's your history lesson for the day: in 1745 there was a Jacobite Rising; those who wished James VII of Scotland (III of England) returned to the throne, along with catholocism. Led by Bonnie Prince Charles, the Jacobite troops were undefeated until their last battle. Due to several issues, they were slaughtered at Culloden. The museum is just beside the actual battlefield, which has remained relatively unchanged since the battle. The field had the battle lines shown for each side, and the dead are actually buried there. There is a stone for each clan that lost members. That was the last battle fought on British soil. It was awe inspiring.
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Sheep Dogs

2010-08-03T16:29:00.000-04:00

This morning we went to a sheep farm to see a border collie demonstration. It was absolutely fascinating! There are 2,500 sheep and 35 dogs. Each dog has its own set of whistle commands, and the dogs are friggin brilliant. After the cornering of the sheep, Neil (the shepherd) showed how the sheep are sheared, and let people try. Those that did got to keep a piece of fleece. Now THERE'S a souvenir... Sheep bits. Anyhow, the dogs then corralled some wayward ducks, and I got to feed a lamb from a milk bottle. Lots of fun, and very interesting :)
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Here Nessie, Nessie

2010-08-02T13:15:00.001-04:00

Last night we had driving tour of Glasgow. Much of the architecture is reddish, or mottled in color due to the sandstone in the area. Today marked the first REAL day of sightseeing, and we did quite a bit. We took a boat cruise on Loch Lomond, the 3rd largest lake in Scotland. 500 ft at its deepest! Then we continued through the countryside, through Glencoe where we learned about the massacre of the MacDonalds by the Campbells in 1692. We continued through Great Glen, and the Caledonia canal, which connects 4 lochs, the last of which is Loch Ness, the 2nd largest lake at 26 miles long and 900 ft! Try tho I might, I did not see Nessie. The countryside is indescribably beautiful; the mountains are extremely steep, and lakes so deep because they were cut from glacial ice. I've already taken more photos than I know what to do with!
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Haggis for Breakfast

2010-08-01T07:02:00.001-04:00

The breakfast at the hotel this morning was buffet-style, with all sorts of different foods: fruit, eggs, yogurt, croissants, and haggis. Now, I'm not sure what my expectations were, but I was certainly NOT under the assumption that haggis was a breakfast food. At any rate, it was sort of like hash, without the carrots and more pepper. Wasn't too bad, actually!
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Yes, 1 Kilo DOES Matter

2010-08-01T06:58:00.000-04:00

After returning to Mauze, we had dinner at a friend's house, and - spent the following day repacking the bags to have ewverything perfectly balanced fdor the Flybe flight (cheap airline with a 20 kg checked bag limit, and 10 kg carry-on). Finally, with both carry-ons virtually bursting, and the wine safely packed, the checked bags were 21 kg each. I just hoped that would be close enough. Apparently not. While they didn't charge me, I was sternly spoken to about packing too much weight. Grrrr. Anyway, we got on our flight, and safely made it to Glasgow. Slept poorly, as I am fighting some sort of annoying sore throat, but the tour starts this afternoon, and I am quite excited!
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Arcachon-Day 2

2010-07-30T06:07:00.002-04:00

When we left that morning on the boat tour, it was cloudy and cold. And, of course, I forgot a sweatshirt, so I was a bit chilly on the boat. When we arrived in Cap Ferret, we walked along a touristy street to the Lighthouse. On the little path to the lighthouse there was a display dedicated to light. It talked about white light being comprised of other colors, and there was a station for each color, detailing the regional things you can find in those colors (houses, food, flowers, etc). We then walked to the beach, on the Atlantic side of the peninsula, and just watched the waves. By that point the sun was reappearing. We had dinner at a lovely restaurant recommended by Annie, where we had oysters on the half-shell, and fabulous wine, right on the ocean. This morning, we went to the beach for a bit before packing our stuff to go back to Mauze. We will stay there this evening, then take a plane to Glasgow on Saturday to begin the Scottish (and final) leg of our journey.

Arcachon- Day 1

2010-07-30T05:58:00.001-04:00

We arrived in Arcachon about 2:30 and went to our hotel, Le Dauphin (the dolphin). That afternoon, we walked to Ville d'Hiver, the older part of the city. Still not sure if we made it entirely to the correct area, but the places we did walk were very nice. We visited the Notre Dame basilica, with gothic vaulted ceilings that are painted crimson, and a steeple that can be seen from quite a distance out to sea. The second day we took a boat tour of the basin, and later got off at Cap Ferret, a peninsula across the way.

Fine Food, Good Company

2010-07-30T05:54:00.002-04:00

After our canoe trip, we continued on a windy path in the general direction of Bordeaux. Our hotel that evening was very nice, and we had dinner at the highly acclaimed restaurant there. It was a five course meal, and I was truly convinced they would have to roll me back to my room. Sadly, the next morning we had to take Helene and Maxim to the airport so they could return to England :( Dad and I then took a train from Bordeaux to the city of Arcachon, located on a tidal basin on the Atlantic.

Steer From the Back, My Friend

2010-07-30T05:48:00.003-04:00

Lola has been canoeing since she was but a wee lass. She knows a thing or two about how to keep the damn boat straight. In the process of canoeing along the Dordogne river, she was asked to sit in the back of the 3 person canoe by one of her travelmates. Of course, Lola assumed that was because said other person wanted her to steer. But alas, she was terribly mistaken, as it became apparent that aforementioned Navigateur thought one steers a canoe from the front. This led to much drunken careening along the river, as Lola attempted to divine Navigateur's intentions, and counteract accordingly. Thankfully, there were no aquatic mishaps, although a severe beating with a canoe paddle did nearly ensue. The day was beautiful; sunny with a nice breeze, and there were several castles along the 15 km route. Of course, the blasted camera batteries died halfway through. Lola will need to be kind to Navigateur in order to get copies of his photos.

Onward and Southeast-ish

2010-07-29T18:05:00.003-04:00

The afterparty was very nice. We basically sat around the garden and pool at Annie and Jean's place (Helene's parents). I might have whooped it up a bit too much, but I had a great time. The next day, Helene, Maxim, Dad and I were supposed to leave for the Dordogne region at 11, but didn't actually get on the road until 3-ish. We had a lovely drive through the countryside, until Helene paused on the road tu turn onto a virtually abandoned side road (for a quick wee), and someone behind hit us. Thankfully there was no damage (I hope the rental company agrees, as the car is in my name). Then I drove for a bit through tremendously windy roads, until we found the place we were staying for the evening. We had a lovely dinner, complete with foie gras and trout (two specialties of the region). Then, off to bed.

The Wedding

2010-07-26T05:39:00.004-04:00

We arrived in Rochefoucauld (where teh wedding was) later that afternoon. In the evening, we met up at a little restauraunt called Chez Steph. This region of France is especially known for their beef, so it was a steakhouse (the only one I have ever seen in France). I ordered a filet so red it was mooing, and it was probably one of the best steaks I have ever had. The next day was the wedding, which was held in the chateau. The chapel was absolutely wonderful, and had fantastic accoustics. The ceremony was very nice; the daughter of Florence's family friend performed the service, and Flo read an excerpt from the film "Wings of Desire." After the ceremony we went into the courtyard for champagne and appetizers. Later we went downstairs in the castle to begin the multi-course eating extravaganza. In between courses, the Toastmaster called on different people to give little speeches and whatnot. It was all very nice! After dessert and dancing (yes, I actually danced) we finally went back to the B&B; I ended up going to bed at 5 A.M. qnd I am too old for that sort of thing! But it was a fabulous day!

St. Emilion

2010-07-26T05:31:00.002-04:00

GPS is not always a godsend. After we rented the car and left the airport, we drove for a few hours to get to the chateau near St. Emilion where we were staying. Unfortunately, the GPS decided the best route was to drive THROUGH some of the vineyards, which of course is not possible. So, we took a somewhat circuitous route but eventually found the place. We went in to the center of St. Emilion and found a nice restaurant. This being serious wine country, we each got a different glass of wine and shared them. They were fabulous!! After we took a short walking tour of the historical relics and story of St. Emilion. There is an enormous monolithic church there, and it's quite amazing to realize that everything was carved out of the existing stone, rather than constructed! The following morning we visited two vineyards and did a bit of wine tasting. I purchased 5 bottles of wine that I have no idea how I will get into my suitcase. It is gorgeous contryside! There are grape vines as far as the eye can see, and the owner of one of the vineyards explained that they will start to change their color in about a week or so. Too bad I won't see them when they are that nice, deep purple!

So Many Bottles, So Little Time!

2010-07-26T05:25:00.003-04:00

We arrived safely in Bordeaux, and began the wine portion of our trip. The first evening we went out for a nice dinner that was on the river, then walked around the city. Our hotel was right in the center, so everything was in walking distance. The next day (our full day in the city) it rained. The first time it has really rained since we arrived! But it worked out well because the light drizzle kept the air cool so that we didn't die as we trekked around the city. At the Grand Théatre, there was a self-guided tour that showed the instruments, costumes, lighting and special effects for the operas and ballets they perform. St. Catherine street is the most commercial part of Bordeaux; its a pedestrian street with nothing but stores as far as the eye can see! We ended up taking a little nap before going out for dinner at a place called Fernands; very traditional bordelaise cuisine, and very tasty! The next day we met Hélène and Maxim at the airport to begin our trip through St. Emilion.

Mauzé sur le Mignon

2010-07-17T10:00:00.002-04:00

Mauzé is the small town where Hélène's parents live; it is about 1/2 hr away from La Rochelle (on the Atlantic coast). We arrived on Wednesday afternoon, and have been enjoying several days of pure rest and relaxation, not to mention faaaabulous weather. Even when the weather here is crappy, its nice! Yesterday we visited the "city" of Niort. We walked around and saw some of the shops. And where did I go? You guessed it... the book store! I have added 2 more books to my Asterix and Obelisk collection (a French comic book that takes place in medeival France, during the time of the Crusades). I also purchased the first two books in the Harry Potter series; turns out they are a bit easier for me to read than the French "lire en français" book I actually brought with me. Today I brought Dad to the farmer's market, next to the church. I couldn't help it, I had to buy rabbit. Now I love to cook, but never in my life have I prepared rabbit. So I experienced what should have become, by all rights, a near culinary disaster. The stove is quite different from mine, so there is a learning curve there. Then there was the possibly questionable cooking wine I used, nearly burnt garlic, and instead of adding olive oil when the pan was a bit dry, I accidentally grabbed nut oil (whose nuts is yet to be determined). Anyhow, despite these things, Bugs actually came out quite tasty! Chalk one up for the winning team. Monday we leave for Bordeaux, the city of wine :)

Surprising Tidbits

2010-07-15T05:44:00.002-04:00

After having described the main portions of my journey, i can comment on the lesser known things that I found just plain interesting.

Driving on the left side of the road is a given point of confusion- I can't tell you how many times I stood at a crosswalk like a complete arsehole, looking in all directions because I had no idea where the cars would be coming from (easy to do- there are lots of 1-way streets in London and I always seemed to be on the wrong side of them).
Courtesy- Everyone in England seems to be exceptionally courteous. Even down to the Underground announcements and signs. The signs tend to be exceptionally verbose, but seem to genuinely care that you "mind the gap" between the train and platform so that you do not get squashed into people jelly.
Beer is cheaper than water- apparently a holdover from earlier times, Londoners have apparently decided that they prefer beer be available to everyone, as opposed to water. I can't say I argue with this
Drunken Brits are hilarious- I don't even know what to say here; you sort of need to experience it. One guy started talking to me, and when he discovered I was frm the US, he laments how difficult it is to get into our country. "I mean, I only have one conviction," he said.
British accents are contagious-while lovely sounding, this accent is insidious and began to make its way into my speech. I hope I come home and remember to say "bathroom" instead of "loo."

I Am My Own Tom Tom

2010-07-15T05:36:00.002-04:00

For those of you familiar with the ways of Lola, you understand that she has a bizzare and completely irrational fear of driving in Boston. She even prefers not to take the T without proper supervision, for fear of ending up in the nether parts of the world, such as Mattapan. However, this same Lola has turned a new geographical leaf and learned to navigate a large city. She managed, via train, to get herself into London, and once there navigate the streets and the Tube without getting lost once! She is a master of all things geographical and directional! Boston, and its fair inhabitants beware! Lola is coming!

London, Baby!

2010-07-15T05:25:00.003-04:00

On July 13, Dad and I took a train into London, and a hop on/hop off tour of London, which also included a few walking tours (not possible to do all in one day, though). For you Harry Potter fans, there is indeed a "Platform 9 3/4" at King's Cross Station! A cute little brick wall with a luggage trolley stuck halfway through. And yes, I did do the touristy thing and had my picture taken with it, but I digress. We just barely arrived at the Visitor Center in time to begin the tour that goes to Buckingham Palace and sees the Changing of the Guard. Unfortunately our tour guide was a bit of a speed-demon. He walked at such a rapid pace I couldn't have kept up with him if I wanted to! And, of course, when we arrived at the castle, everyone and their brother was there, and we ended up losing the walking tour entirely. So we said screw them, and went off in search of the bus. We then travelled toe Westminster Abbey and saw Big Ben (which I always thought was the name of the tower, but turns out it is the name of the 13 ton bell inside!). After some lunch with a psychotic waitress (she was running around like a womqn on fire), we got back on the bus. It was one of the open-air buses, so we sat on the top. The tour was actually very nice, and we even got to see Fleet St. (for all you Sweeney Todd fans). We thought about taking the Jack the Ripper walking tour; but it was a bit long and we would have missed our boat cruise, which was very nice. It was similar to the one we did for Flo's Hen Do, but this one went to Greenwich. After the cruise we had dinner at the Sherlock Holmes Pub, where we both had traditional "Bangers & Mash" which was actually quite tasty; I could have done without the gravy on my Yorkshire pudding, though.

London Town

2010-07-12T13:30:00.002-04:00

The day after the Hen Do party (yesterday), we went to the section of London called Camden, where there is an open air market with lots of little vendors and shops. It was extremely crowded, but somehow we managed to get through without losing anyone. Somehow I have managed to not yet buy a single thing! We then went to a sushi restaurant where it's all you can eat for £15. Quitterie, Boris and the baby then returned to France, while the rest of us walked around the city, visited St. Paul's cathedral, and walked along the river. We took a brief trip to the Tate Modern Museum, where I was able to see some Dali, Picasso and Warhol. We ended up in Chinatown, where we had a fabulous dinner at a restaurant called the Four Seasons. They are quite famous for their Crispy Duck and Special Fried Rice. We realized that it was 10:40, we still had to go back to the hostel to get our luggage, then take the Tube to King's Cross station to get a train back to Cambridge! Of course, not only was it a Sunday night, when trains generally stop earlier, but it was the final night of the World Cup (which Spain won), so the city was a madhouse, especially Picadilly Circus, which is very similar to Times Square. Thankfully we made it in time, and arrived back to Hélène's around 2 a.m. Needless to s ay, after our whirlwind weekend I slept until noon-thirty. Today is a nice lazy day, to be spent reading, updating this blog and doing laundry. Tomorrow Dad and I will go in to London to see all the things we haven't yet seen (which, given the amount of walking we have done, I can't imagine is much!)

The Hen Do Party

2010-07-12T13:08:00.003-04:00

In England it is quite traditional to throw a bachelorette, or "Hen Do" party for a bride to be. It is also customary for said bride to be made to wear some sort of kitschy costume, in the case of Florence, Hélène's sister, a fake bridal gown purchased on Ebay, a princess tiara and silly lace gloves. A group of 14 of us first went to London, to a little club, where we had tapas and cocktails. Our next event was a booze-cruise on the Thames River. Unfortunately, when leaving the club we were not entirely sure where we needed to be to get the boat, so there was much running around trying to find the proper pier and not be left behind. Thankfully; we safely made it onto the boat, and the 4 hr cruise was wonderful: perfect weather, good music and even better company. We finished the evening at a club called The Borderline, which played mostly rock music. I spoke quite a bit with a lovely girl from Ireland named Ailbhe (pronounced Elva). We finally made it back to the hostel at 4:30 a.m. Meanwhile, Dad and Boris went to the park with the baby, out for dinner, then in to bed at a reasonable hour (unlike the rest of us). But I had such a nice time, I nearly forgot that I am too old to be staying up that late several nights in a row!

Drinking: It's Not for Everyone

2010-07-12T12:51:00.002-04:00

Ah yes, back to the awkward moment. After returning to Hélène's from our walking around Cambridge, there was a big BBQ at her house. She has a quaint little gated garden behind the house. There, she set up disposable BBQ's, which I had no idea even existed! There were probably about 25 people there from all over, and we had a wonderful time. When it was late enough that we were probably annoying the neighbors, we left and went to a club. Now by this point Lola had been speaking with a rather cute French guy, and what vacation is without a French man? The club was nice, although rather loud so we left and went to another bar. Things were going quite nicely, and Lola was quite enjoying herself with this French guy, when all of a sudden she was caught unawares by a run-by puking. Some arsehole, most likely on his way to the bathroom, essentially puked down the front of Lola's shirt. Making a mad dash to the loo, rather afraid that she might follow suit and yark all over the place, she stood topless in the ladies' room, trying desperately not to be ill while Hélène washed her shirt in the sink. Not the highlight of the day, I'm afraid. To put a rancid icing on this fanfuckintastic cake, things went less than smoothly when, later in the evening, Lola tried to kiss aforementioned Frenchman. Less than stellar, with his explanation that he was sorry, he was just too drunk. By that point, Lola quite wished she herself was also drunk.

Cambridge by Day

2010-07-12T12:41:00.004-04:00

The night in question I may have had one of the most awkward moments of my life, but I am getting ahead of myself. Our second day in Cambridge, Quitterie, Boris (friends of Hélène), their son Aeol, Dad and I took an organized walking tour of the town, where we were able to visit the King's College chapel. We were very lucky in that the King's College boys choir was rehearsing for a concert that evening. They are a very famous and wonderful choir, and the acoustics in the chapel are awe inspiring. It is wonderful to see all the old architecture of the city. For all of you Harry Potter fans, portions of the first film (particularly the broom fight with Malfoy) were filmed at King's College. And thus far the weather has been phenomenal. Roughly 75 degrees and sunny. And apparently all of England is beside themselves with their luck with the weather! I might actually end up leaving England with a sunburn!

Ostrich...its what's for dinner

2010-07-08T20:23:00.002-04:00

Lola has safely traversed the Atlantic without issue. After arriving in Cambridge we visited with some friends of Hélène and Maxim. The next day we walked all over Cambridge. We also visited some of the colleges, such as Trinity, St. John's, Cambridge University and King's College. We stopped at the Eagle Pub, a historical place because that was where Watson and Crick first announced they had discovered the structure of DNA. What better place to share information than the pub? There I had traditional fish and chips and mushy peas (and yes it says "mushy" on the menu). We then took a punting tour of the Cam River, similar to a gondola. That evening we went to the Kingston Arms pub for dinner. Dad and I shared an ostrich steak. Absolutely fabulous! The pub has boardgames you can play, so Maxim and I played Connect Four. Very old-school.

On the Road Again!

2010-07-06T19:30:00.002-04:00

Ah, yet again Lola will be bidding the US adieu while she travels Europe... again. I have planned quite the trek for my month abroad. I will be visiting London (for the first time), France (for the umpteenth time) and Scotland (also a first). As updating my blog has, regrettably, fallen by the wayside (yet again), I am hoping to use this trip as a means to regularly update it. So, I wake up at the ass crack of dawn, to leave my house by O'dark thirty, and be on a plane that LEAVES at 8:15 AM. For those of you who know me, you can start laughing now... I find it amusing myself. With any luck, my father and I will be able to leave the country without incident, and begin a sorely needed, month-long vacation. Bon voyage!

Lola Reconciles

2009-11-29T22:40:00.002-05:00

A while back, Lola was mistreated by a close friend. Now, Lola knows full well that he would never deliberately do anything to hurt her, but he had the misfortune to make a rather poor decision at an inopportune time. Consequently, Lola slipped from the semi-coherent side of reality, fell off the edge of reason, and landed face first in a molten rage that was disproportionate to the initial infraction. After taking some time to "cool off" Lola sent a strongly worded email to her friend... that was apparently a bit over the top. Lola decided to hold her ground until the friend contacted her in some way. Well, when he did, he was so full of guilt that Lola herself began to feel guilty. At long last, the two kindred friends reconciled, and Lola was so filled with joy that she wept openly. A lot. It would appear Lola is not as strong as she thought she was. But then again, who is?

Peaches

2009-11-27T22:08:00.001-05:00

So I have a niece; she is my best friend's daughter, and I call her Peaches. Thankfully, my friend lives close enough that I can be a regular part of this child's life. She is only 9 months, but has an infectious giggle that can soften even the most curmudgeonly heart. Her blue eyes and smile light up a room. Today, Laura came over with Peaches, and another friend for a nice afternoon of chatting and knitting. Peaches and my dog are now the best of friends. I tell you, I could be having the shittiest day imaginable, but the second I see Peaches, and she sees me and smiles and giggles, I completely forget whatever it is that was troubling me. I love her now, and I can't wait to see the person she becomes. I am looking forward to many years of good times with Peaches and Dotte :)

Lola Fumes

2009-09-07T20:30:00.003-04:00

Lola has returned from a nice, but less than relaxing vacation to discover that the entire planet has gone completely fucking sideways in her absence. Half of her students have disappeared off the face of her fall schedule, her printer decided TODAY would be a fabulous time to shit the bed and not allow her to complete paperwork for a new job, the adorable new puppy has taken it upon herself to remodel the doorways with her teeth, and the New England Patriots not only traded Richard Seymour to the Raiders (of all the good-for-nothing motherfu...), and they allowed Teddy Bruschi to retire. She's thinkin' maybe she should have stayed at the lake. Oh, and her thumb is still a wretched mess.

Necrotising Fasciitis

2009-08-25T17:22:00.002-04:00

So there I am.... a month or so ago, I happen to notice that I have whacked my thumb on some unknown object, thus getting a tiny cut and little bruise at the edge of the nail. I figure, no big deal. i will just clean it up, put a band-aid on it, and go on my merry way. But nothing, and I do repeat nothing in my life can ever be so simple. A couple of days later, my thumb decides that the skin in that area is really just a luxury and begins to slough off said expendable epidermis. "Now that can't be good," I say to myself. But figure, ah, what the hell... it will heal eventually. Apparently not. I began to crack jokes that I had necrotising fasciitis, and that any day the thumb would just fall off. However, as time progressed, and the peeling of the skin, I realized maybe I should consider seeing my doctor. So I did. And you know what? I don't think she has a fucking clue what she's doing. I saw the "other" doctor in the office; the same one who, when I had a sinus infection, proceeded to treat me as though I had ebola. Needless to say, I didn't have particularly high hopes for her. Her astute opinion was that I had an infection in my thumb. Ahoy, Captain Obvious. Did I really just pay money for such a crackerjack diagnosis?

Lola Rides

2009-08-24T02:02:00.002-04:00

So the incredibly uncoordinated, accident prone Lola decided she would get her motorcycle license, as a bike was given to her for her birthday. So Lola dutifully looked up a class that would not only teach her to ride, but exempt her from the Evil RMV's Road Test. What she did not realize is that August is a horrific month in which to be riding a bike at slow speeds, with long sleeves and long pants on. This is a lesson she will not need to learn again any time soon. As Lola progressed through the class, she discovered two things: she cannot physically multitask very well, as "counterweight turning" requires, and tight U-turns on a bike are her nemesis. So much so, in fact, that she failed to do it even remotely within the box during the practice. She actually wasn't even in the box more often than not. However, due to some final epiphany and urgent praying, she managed to nail that particular maneuver in the test, thus winning the approval not only of her instructor, but applause from the class as well. But, despite her trials and tribulations, Lola did in fact pass the test, and now is street legal. She is still as yet uncertain as to whether this is good, or bad for the rest of the people on the road.

I'll Have a Pint

2009-07-22T09:19:00.003-04:00

This past March, I went to Ireland to celebrate St. Patrick's Day, and my friend Kellie's 30th birthday (coincidentally, the same day). This is a trip that had been almost two years in the making. The night before we left, Kellie informs me that she just realized her passport is expired. "Truly, she jests," I think to myself, only to hear her father ranting in the background about special appointments at the passport office in Boston. Well, needless to say, I flew to Ireland without her. She was, however, able to get a new passport and flight, and met up with our tour a few days later (up until she arrived, most of the people I had met thought she was my imaginary friend). But I digress.... What is the first thing I went to visit in Ireland? The Guinness Storehouse, of course! And I firmly believe, no matter what anyone says, Guinness IS different over there. The country is absolutely gorgeous; there is a reason why it is called the Emerald Isle. I spent entirely too much money, bought too much stuff, and had a fabulous time. On Kellie's birthday, I took her on a pub crawl in Killarney, and got her royally tossed (she even drunk-dialed her mother). I figure that's what good friends do; they get you completely wrecked in foreign countries. At least, that's what I hope my friends will do for me!

Lola Rising

2009-07-22T09:16:00.003-04:00

Lola's life tends to be a bizarrely wrought tragicomedy. However, as her life as been significantly less than tragic and certainly not too comical as of late, she has been rather remiss in updating her blog. What a sad state of affairs it is when a Diva has not a thing to write about in a blog that very few people (besides herself, of course) read! That is something she will have to remedy.

Lola's Anniversary!

2008-10-13T01:41:00.005-04:00

For shits and giggles Lola decided to look back to her first Blog post. And what did she find? That she has been writing this blog for just over a year! She is somewhat nauseated and dizzied by the fact that a year has so quickly flown by. Much has happened in said year; some good, some bad, some incredibly hilarious happenings. There was the opening post lamenting over her lack of physical activity, and subsequent issues of clothing designers being depicted as Succubi from Hell. Many an adventure, such as offing the wasps with over the counter Napalm, wearing Noodles in the water so as not to float away whilst inebriated, and many a laughable incident while driving to or from NJ. There have also been somewhat serious posts (altho relatively few; Lola does NOT want her readers to think that she is sappy in the least), posts meant for the purpose of solely bitching about the world and and the ridiculous shit that happens. At any rate, Lola would like to thank her 3 semi-faithful readers for enjoying the ride with her. Remember, there will always be an entertaining story that follows the phrase "So there I am....."

Political Woes

2008-10-13T01:25:00.003-04:00

As a general rule, I am not a particularly political person. However, with the upcoming election I find myself strangely drawn to the world of politics, the individual contestants (because, lets be serious, this is just a nationwide gameshow), and the "rules" of the game. In my own humble opinion, nothing can be worse than the last 8 wretched years of Dubya's "strategery," but I think that the Hooker in Boots (Sarah Palin) might rate a close second. I am reminded of my earlier post "Cheney/Voldemort '08" which should just be changed to "McCain/Volemort" for more accuracy. For the first time ever, I actually watched a debate (Palin/Biden), with the intent of witnessing what I had hoped would be a royal trainwreck. It wasn't quite as bad as I had hoped, but it was close. She deftly managed to not adequately answer a single question, all the while toting her and McCain's talents as "mavericks." Which, of course, they are not. If she made one more nebulous reference to plans for Iraq, or how to solve the energy crisis, I was going to shoot myself in the head. Now, I think every candidate should be able to choose their own running mate, but I think that McCain's decision has was the final death knell for the Republican party in this election. If he was looking for the Hilary vote, he was sorely mistaken. Just because she has a set of ovaries does not mean that she is remotely qualified to represent the opinions of any modern woman in America today. Quite the opposite; she is, most certainly, the Bridge to Nowhere.

3 A.M. And All is Well... And Boring

2008-09-22T02:27:00.003-04:00

It seems that each night that I return to my part time job, the Computer Gods have set another strike against me. First, it was Myspace... although I didn't really give a shit about that because I don't have a Myspace account. Then it was Facebook, which royally irritated me. After all, who is goign to slay dragons and feed my zombies in the middle of the night, if not me?! But the coup d'etat came this evening. As a general rule, I will keep a web page open with my email, so that I can periodically view it, purely to see if any of my friends are awake in the wee hours of the morning to keep me entertained. However, while I can now log into the website, I can no longer click "get email" for that apparently goes against some newly laid down security law that I am beholden to obey. It would appear that these ridiculous people actually expect me to do legitimate work. Unbeknownst to my superiors, there is very little veritable work to be done at 3 A.M. So now what the hell am I going to do? Maybe I shall knit myself a noose.

Silly Trees

2008-09-10T15:48:00.002-04:00

So I came dangerously close to winning myself a Darwin award today. There are trees in my yard that have decided to take over with their obnoxiously enormous limbs and leaves, thus blocking out sunlight and devastating my garden. I went to such great pains to start most of the plants by seed, and all that remains are a few piddly onions, and about 7 dwarfish tomatoes that refuse to turn red. But I digress... My father and I decided it was time to wage war on the trees. We first attacked the giant maple in the yard, that is dying a slow and painful death anyway. First, I got out the extension ladder.... only to discover that I was not able to "safely" place it in a spot where I could get to the limbs marked for death. After a few attempts, I realized it was hopeless. But oh no! I was not to be deterred. Like MacGyver, I came up with a new plan, involving some wire cord, a trowel, and brute force. I used the trowel as a weight, and swung said cord like a lasso to capture the moribund limbs, and then dad and I used brute force to yank the bastards from the tree. The most gratifying part is, it actually worked! There was one unfortunate moment, however, when the head of the trowel parted company with the handle mid swing... and went shooting off into the bushes like some sort of maniacal gardening missile, nearly decapitating my cat who was an innocent bystander at the time. However.... I still have some LIVE limbs in the yard that need surgical intervention... I think its time to call my brother in to do the grunt work.

Starry Night

2008-09-09T14:22:00.004-04:00

As a general rule, Lola is not an overly romantic, sappy sort of woman. But every now and then, something happens that just takes her breath away. The last night of Lola's vacation on the lake was an exceptionally clear evening. And Lola was with an exceptional man, who had only rarely seen the stars with such little light pollution. So Lola and the man went for a walk to the dock. There, they lay down on the dock and gazed at the stars; something normally way too romantic for Lola, but this was nice. Anyhoo... the time came to go back to the campsite for a traditional marshmallow burning session, so Lola and the man prepared to leave. And right there, under the band of the Milky Way, the man kissed Lola! So simple, so sweet, and yet it took her breath away. By far, the most romantic kiss Lola has ever experienced.

Kinky Sex

2008-09-03T21:52:00.004-04:00

For Labor Day Weekend, I decided to go to NH on Lake Winnipesaukee with friends. After a ridiculous stretch at work, I was in dire need of some lazy time, and thought my friend Rich was, too. So I dragged him up to the lake to basically spend 3 days doing nothing; turns out it was one of the better decisions I have made in quite a while. While at the lake, my best friend was rather curious about this guy I had brought along with me, and appropriately began a line of questioning. She, of course, asks innocuous questions, like "Where are you from? " and "What do you do?" Her father, on the other hand, must have thought she was taking the long way round, and chose a more direct approach. "So Rich, are you into kinky sex?" he says... Almost everyone at the table choked on their sandwiches... except for Rich, who replied without missing a beat with, "Yeah. Isn't everyone?" After we all recovered from the massive bout of hysterical laughter, I received a look of approval from my best friend. Which is good... it is quite awkward to date someone who is disliked by your closest friends.

Leaving On a Jet Plane

2008-08-04T12:39:00.002-04:00

Our trip home turned out to be completely catastrophic. We safely made it to the bus and then the airport. An hour into the flight, they announced that the navigation system needed to cross the Atlantic was not working, and they would have to turn back to Paris. We waited on the tarmac for 2 hrs while they fixed the plane. Personally, I would have preferred another aircraft sans technical difficulties, but it was not to be. We arrived in NY 4 hrs late and missed our connecting flight. After waiting what seemed a day to get our luggage, we booked seats on the next flight to Boston, which was leaving at 8 pm. I called my brother, as he and his wife were going to pick us up at the shuttle in Framingham. Turns out, they were already there. I informed them about the flight situation, and they decided they would go see a movie while waiting. No problem.... alas, I was wrong. The flight ended up being late... and by late I mean, we eventually boarded at 9:45, then sat on the tarmac until midnight, when the plane finally left for Boston. By the time I arrived in Boston, I had missed the last shuttle out of the airport. My brother was too tired to drive in to the airport, as he had to work the next morning, and my father and I ended up taking a cab home from Boston! A truly crappy trip home, but the vacation in France was so wonderful, I don't really care.

Paris III

2008-08-04T12:34:00.002-04:00

Our last day in Paris, we decided to climb the Eiffel Tower (via the elevator, of course). Unfortunately, after standing in line for an hour, we discovered that the top floor was temporarily closed due to overcrowding. So, we went to the second floor, and still got some great photos, despite the fact that it was a fairly hazy day. Then, we went to the Pere Lachaise cemetery, where many famous people are buried. We saw Chopin and Poulenc's graves, and went on a desperate hike to find Jim Morrison's. The first time I went to Paris, Helene and I had spent hours in this cemetery looking for that grave, and never found it. This time, I was on a mission. We found out, and honestly it was a bit anticlimactic. But that's ok, I have seen it, and all is well. Basically, we took a Dead Musician's tour in the cemetery. Edith Piaf, Maria Callas and Oscar Wilde are also buried there, but we didn't have the energy to go looking for them (this cemetery is enormous). Then we went back to the hotel to begin the arduous task of repacking, for we were leaving at the arse-crack of dawn the next day.

Paris II

2008-08-04T12:21:00.003-04:00

The day after Annie left, Dad and I spent a day at the Chateau of Versailles. It was built by Louis XIV, and is just plain over the top. The castle itself is enormous, but the gardens surrounding almost dwarf the size of the building. We took a tour through the castle, saw the Hall of Mirrors, and many of the individual rooms. The first floor rooms are mostly like a museum; each room has a different color of brocade on the walls, and there are many paintings on the wall. The upstairs is more exciting. One of the larger salons apparently has a ceiling that is actually painted canvas; the largest painted canvas in Europe. We then bought a ticket for the gardens, where we were able to see the Grands Eaux Musicales. Basically, they turn on all the fountains in the garden, and blast French Baroque music throughout. It is quite awe inspiring. We ate lunch, and just spent a couple of hours wandering in the Garden. Here, the gardens are pristinely manicured and shaped; gardens in this style are called "a la francaise."

Paris I

2008-08-04T12:11:00.002-04:00

Annie decided to drive in to Paris with us, and stayed at the Hotel Chopin for a night. The first day, we visited Notre Dame, Ste. Chappelle, actually climbed the Arc de Triomphe and the Louvre. We at dinner at a wonderful restaurant that is in the basement of the train station at Les Invalides. Afterwards, we took a driving tour of Paris by Night, and saw how the Eiffel tower is lighted at night. Starting at 11, the turn on lights every hour on the hour for about 15 minutes. First, it flashes with silver lights, then goes to a solid, sapphire blue. It's absolutely gorgeous! The second day, despite extremely tired legs, we visited Napoleon's tomb, and also went to the Rodin museum. Napoleon's tomb is fantastic! The building is ornately decorated inside with marble and gold. The tomb itself is probably a 30 ft. marble construction. At the Rodin museum, we saw The Thinker, among other famous sculptures. Near the end of the day, Dad and I made a trek up the hill of Montmartre to see the Sacre Coeur Basilica. It sits on the top of the hill, and is a brilliant white. Unfortunately, you are not allowed to take pictures inside, but all the decoration is mosaic artwork. In the dome above the altar, there is a huge mosaic of Christ with his arms out. Again, lots of gold. That night, Annie left and returned to her parent's house, and Dad and I needed to take a nap to recover.

France VII- Chez Coutures

2008-08-04T11:35:00.003-04:00

Staying at Annie's parent's, Claudine and Andre Couture, was fantastic. They fed us well every night, and there was much talking. Somehow, we got into a conversation about WWII, and they were telling us stories of when they were kids in the war, and how the Americans had come and French families were hiding some of the paratroopers in their attics and barns. One of the desks in their house had been confiscated and used by actual Nazi soldiers; then, surprisingly, returned to them after the war. It was extremely interesting to hear stories from people who had actually lived through it. After all, there has never been a war on American soil in my lifetime; even this war is somewhat removed from my everyday life. While there, we also visited a small castle at Chamerolles, where they now make perfume. Unfortunately, we got there just at closing time but they let us walk around the grounds anyway. We also visited Yevre, a medieval fort that is mostly in ruins now (got some great pics there). After this brief respite, we began our trek to Paris.

France VI- Castles of the Loire Valley

2008-08-04T11:21:00.004-04:00

The day after the beach, Dad and I brought Helene and Maxim to the airport so they could return to England. Then he and I spent the evening in La Rochelle, and met up with Annie and Jean later. The next day, we began our trip through the Loire Valley to go to Annie's parent's house. Unfortunately, I didn't realize Jean would be working, and I didn't actually get a chance to say goodbye to him before we left. The trip was a bit long, but we got a chance to see a lot of the French countryside. The vast majority of the country is farmland, and you can drive for hours through wheat, hay and sunflower fields. The first castle we stopped at was Chenonceau, which is the only castle that is actually built over the Loire river. We got into a conversation about wine, and Annie explained that Jean is constantly arguing with his brother, for Jean thinks Bordeaux wine is superior to Loire valley. The second castle was Cheverny. The tour through the inside of this castle was far more interesting. We were able to view the king and queen's chambers, and an entire room dedicated to hunting and arms. Took a pic of the suit of armor for my brother. While there, I also bought 2 daggers (which I later discovered were actually sharpened), one for me and one for my brother. Not entirely sure this was a good idea, but whatever. We finally did a drive-by to see the Castle of Chambord, then went directly on to Annie's parent's house in Bouzonville aux Bois.

France V- The Beach

2008-08-04T10:30:00.005-04:00

The following day, a group of about 20 of us went to a beach on Ile de Re. I drove Vikienti, Lisa and their mother, along with my father. Helene unintentionally gave me horrible directions, and we got nicely lost on the island. I was annoyed because I know Vikienti's sister gets carsick, and I am certain my complete lack of knowledge of the island was not helping her state. Eventually, we found a beach and decided To Hell with the rest of them... Luckily, when we got out of the car, Maxim was there. I think, next to Vikienti, I was the whitest person there, and the only one that did not get a serious sunburn. We jumped around in the waves which threatened to bowl us over, and I lost one of my pairs of sunglasses in the ocean. C'est la vie. There were also large, cement bunkers that Helene explained had been built during WWII, by the Germans in attempts to &*^% up the Americans.... but of course we came from the North and thwarted their plan! After roasting ourselves in the sun for a few hours, and having a picnic, a few of us drove to St. Martin and went to a bar for a drink. The group was dwindling at this point, and finally we just headed back to Mauze. Apparently, my worry over Lisa was unnecessary; Helene told me she sang my name the entire way home because I am the only driver that doesn't make her sick :)

France IV- The Garden Party

2008-08-04T10:15:00.006-04:00

The Garden Party at Helene's house the day after the wedding was fantastic. True to form, there was an enormous amount of food. It was really nice to see some of Helene's friends who I had met the first time I had come to France. Unfortunately, Helene and Maxim had to stay at the fort, cleaning up, and missed most of their own afterparty. Maxim's uncle Micha is quite the character. He has a stereotypical "Mad Russian" sort of look, is wildly hilarious and "original." At the party, he was wearing some sort of African-styled T-shirt, and had an arabic looking wrap that he put on his head and Maxim called him Bin Laden. He speaks French, and he and I got along marvelously. Very interested in music, he is. I spent most of the afternoon sitting by the pool talking to Vikienti. I tell you, life in Europe is extremely difficult.

France III- The Wedding

2008-08-01T20:10:00.006-04:00

Helene's wedding was fantastic! I sang, and was also a witness. Basically, I signed a register. The service was very eclectic, as the programs were translated into French, German, English and Russian, and different portions of the service were spoken in different languages. After the church, we swung by Helene's parents house to get things, then we all drove on to the Fort. The fort is a giant stone wall, roughly star-shaped, with a moat around the outside, and a tent had been set up in the center. Before we went inside, there were hors d'ouvres and champagne outside (I actually ate oysters for the first time!) The dinner was fabulous and took nearly 4 hrs to eat! And yes, I actually danced. Helene's friend, Simon, is Scottish, and came in full kilt gear. During the reception, he made a valiant effort to teach us to do traditional Scottish dances. It didnt' work out too well, but we had fun. Maxim and his sister played the Bach/Gounod Ave Maria, and Maxim and I played the Meditation de Thais. Vikienti, Maxim's brother, and I ended up befriending one another and stayed up talking until 6 am...but that's a whole other story. I have a great pic of the sunrise at the Fort! The day after the wedding, there was a garden party at Helene's house, where we said goodbye to many people taking their long treks back to their respective countries.

France II

2008-08-01T19:55:00.002-04:00

After arriving in La Rochelle, we went to Mauze sur le Mignon, the town where Helene grew up. That night, there was a big dinner. When the French eat dinner, it is a multi-hour event. We had aperitifs in the garden, and didn't start dinner until 10 pm (here, the sun doesn't set until that time). The friends who came to dinner were friends/patrons of Maxim. I actually got a chance to use my "Kinderdeutsch"! My German is rather limited, but I was able to speak. One of the Germans spoke Spanish, so we communicated mostly in Spanish. Unfortunately, the next day both the champagne and jet lag made a rather unfortunate combination, and I was sick for most of the day. It made the meeting with the priest a bit strange; we were going over the "drill" for the wedding ceremony, and I could feel my face turning green. After a long nap, I was fully recovered. Dad and I had taken a walk around Mauze, saw the road by the river and the church. Later that night, we went to Ile de Re, where the reception would be held, and helped decorate and set up for the reception. Helene's wedding color was purple. The chairs were all draped in white, with purple or lavender ribbons. We also set up votive candles in the entryway to the fort that were glass jars filled with sand and a candle, with a purple ribbon around the jar. The wedding ceremony would be held at a church in Coulon, and the reception was held at the fort of Ile de Re.

France I

2008-08-01T19:43:00.002-04:00

We arrived in Cambridge, England on 7/15. After Helene picked us up, we went to a bar, where her husband Maxim met us (technically, they are already married; this wedding was for the family and friends). We saw the "row" houses in England. Literally, it is a long row single-building with several doors for individual condo-type homes. The next day, Helene, Dad and I went around Cambridge. There are more than 60 colleges in Cambridge! Most of them are associated in some way with Cambridge College, but not all. We went to King's Chapel (where parts of the Harry Potter movies were filmed, and this is also the tallest free-standing gothic edifice without flying buttresses), and also saw Clare College. For those of you who were at Westminster and had the "joy" of meeting Tim Brown, the Brit who talked about drunken moles, this is the college where he regularly teaches. For the record, I found driving on the "wrong" side of the road very disconcerting, and it makes me worried for my trip to Ireland in March, for Kellie has informed me that we will be driving. I shall crash, I fear. We arrived back at the house with just enough time to grab our baggage and head to the train station to go to the airport to get to France. The flight was uneventful, and Helene's father, Jean, met us at the airport.

C'est la Vie!

2008-07-14T14:28:00.002-04:00

So Lola just completed her fifth consecutive night of working her graveyard-shift part-time job. Now, she is officially on vacation! And angels rejoiced... In less than 48 hours, she will be on a plane to Europe. The occasion? Lola is going to France! Whilst there, she will sing at a friend's wedding, visit Bordeaux, and go to Paris. Life is tough, isn't it? At any rate, Lola will (most likely) be unable to regale her 3 readers with new blog entries until after she gets home (for, as a general rule, she is too cheap to pay for internet access at a cafe). So fare thee well for the next two weeks, until Lola Writes Again.

Fortune Cookies

2008-07-08T18:19:00.002-04:00

I have often thought of fortune cookies as odd little nuggets of wisdom, randomly inserted into tasteless cookies. In fact, I don't like the actual cookie, I just like reading what's inside (I do believe that makes me a geek). There's the adage that you should insert "In bed" at the end of every fortune. Which makes some of mine quite entertaining:

You are welcome in any gathering.
The answers are right in front of you.
And, my personal favorite:
You have secret talents you should share.

Anyhow, long ago I used to save all the really good ones and tape them to my computer screen. I have since ditched the screen, but still have most of the fortunes. I am thinking it is either time to write a short story, or a book comprised entirely of fortunes from cookies. I used to think that the writers of these fortunes were nutters with too much spare time on their hands. Now I am just hoping they are right.

Carpe Dentum I

2008-06-30T12:18:00.001-04:00

In March, I had the unfortunate experience of learning from my dentist that I had a cavity. Never, since my baby teeth were unceremoniously yanked from my skull, have I had a cavity. So of course, I took this news as some sort of personal affront to my moral (and dental) sensibilities. Alas, it was fact, and I went for a filling. Now, the tooth did not bother me at all.... until after said filling was completed. For a while, every time I attempted mastication on the right side of my mouth, a shooting pain went through my jaw. Some kind of amalgam between nails scraping a chalkboard, and gnawing on ice. But I digress. So the dentist informs me that the "nerve is irritated." No shit. However, it was NOT irritated before his work on it, but I decided it best not to remind him of this fact. He told me to wait it out, and I did. My primary incentive was the fact that if it did not get better, he would have to re-do the filling; a fate worse than death as far as I am concerned. However, after 3 months I had to throw in the towel and go back.

Carpe Dentum II (Comfortably Numb)

2008-06-30T12:07:00.002-04:00

After the novocaine had had some time to take effect, Dr. Kevorkian began drilling for oil. I am not sure if it was pitiful shriek that gurgled up from my throat, or my eyeballs popping clear out of my cranium and imbedding themselves in the ceiling, but he managed to surmise that there was not quite enough anesthetic in my mouth. So out comes the comically huge needle, into the back of my mouth for another dose of sensory depriving juice. Verily I tell you, I was numb from just above my right ear, diagonally across my face and just under my eyeball to the dead centerline of my jaw. And I remained that way for hours to come. I am quite sure I was drooling, so I decided it best not to make any public appearances for the rest of the day. This fantastic morning was almost a week ago, and it has since become clear to me that in my 3 months of becoming a Lefty Masticator, I had developed an unconscious fear of chewing on the right side of my mouth. Now I am not even sure if the whole filling repetition song and dance worked!!! I hope for Kevorkian's sake it did.

Home Improvement?

2008-06-17T19:36:00.002-04:00

I have, once again, been thwarted by the deck. I am sure when my parents built this monstrosity several years ago, neither one of them actually considered the act of staining and sealing it. As the contraption is getting on in years, it is necessary to put some type of stain on it. Normally, I like the color of bare wood... but in this case, it would be "bare, yucky, dirty" wood, and that is not quite as visually appealing. It has been an ongoing project to stain this deck. Today, I was hoping to finish the first coat. now, One set of stairs and the actual surface area of the deck already have Coat 1; its just the little railing spindles and the wheelchair ramp that need a going-over. I finished a can of stain, and went on to the next one, only to discover my father had purchased a slightly different variety; same brand, same color. But it takes forever to dry... and seems to have some sort of semi-gloss quality that annoys me. The ramp is difficult to complete, as I must go down one side, let it dry, then go down the other side in order to paint along the boards, and not across them. I was not able to paint the opposite side, as the first side had not yet dried, and tried to claim my feet if I walked over it, so I finally gave up... beaten and irritated. But, the piece de resistance??? About 15 minutes after I went inside, it started to rain.

Heart to Heart

2008-06-12T23:16:00.002-04:00

So tonight I went on a date. And I went with a man I genuinely adore. At any rate... he had to leave early, as he had a meeting early in the morning. After dinner, when dropping me off, it was abundantly clear to me that he did not wish to come in. So what did I do? I harassed my father for an hour or so, just so that I could vent. Said man (the date, not my father) is fun to be with, and genuinely intelligent. I truly enjoy spending time with him. Unfortunately, I am still wondering whether he enjoys spending time with me. At any rate, after I got home, my father was duly surprised that I was home so early (as was I) and I told him I needed to vent. So my father and I spent a nice evening, whilst he listened to my somewhat lengthy diatribe about the ills of men. Normally, a woman would spend this time venting to her mother, but unfortunately, I do not have that luxury. I apologized to my father, but he seemed to welcome the conversation (regardless of how ridiculous). I can honestly say that I am happy to have the parents I have.

Mangia!

2008-05-13T18:32:00.003-04:00

So for Mother's Day, my mother specifically requested a meal of lasagna. I asked my father if she was aware I had never made lasagna before. His response was that he didn't think she cared. I understood the concept, but was not entirely sure about the ingredients, so I looked it up. My best friend and I proceeded to have an evening of serious cooking, and the lasagna turned out to be absolutely fabulous. There was very little left over, which was fantastic for stroking my Chef's Ego. We made the pasta and sauce from scratch. And I must say, there is something highly entertaining about playing with pasta dough. Its strangely resilient, and you could probably build a rope bridge with it. And, of course, there is always the entertaining bit of machinery that goes along with this: The Handy Pasta Crank. Which is basically just two rollers, through which the blob of pasta dough is passed repeatedly, cranking with one hand, feeding with the other, and catching with a third (yes, this is a manufacturer flaw... it appears to have been designed for the Three Armed Man). I am glad Laura was there with catcher's glove at the ready... otherwise, we would all be scooping our lasagna from my less-than-pristine kitchen floor.

Boredom

2008-05-09T16:46:00.003-04:00

I am completely and utterly bored. Which, I am certain, is how the past time of blogging came about in the first place. Millions of people online, sick of playing solitaire or looking at porn, decide to publicly write their musings on life, liberty, and the pursuit of jack shit. So here I am, following my many comrades in munging up the internet with my drivel. My excitement for today? I had my piano tuned. I didn't realize how horribly out of whack it was, but there you go. It was like the Dali painting, The Persistence of Memory where all the clocks are melting off of trees and counters and such. Yes, when I heard how bad the piano was, I cringed. But, its all better now. Unfortunately, that only ate about 1 1/2 hrs of my day, and I am, alas, bored again. It is rainy out, I don't want to read, and no one seems to be around. I feel like a cranky 6 yr old.

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

2008-04-25T04:43:00.002-04:00

So there I am... I came home from work yesterday morning, with the ambitious intention of scraping the peeling paint from the trim of my house. I got out scrapers, and went to find the extension ladder that is kept under the back deck. Upon dragging said ladder out, I discovered it was lacking one of the little "feet" that holds it in place when leaned up against a wall. This, naturally is a problem. I am not so keen on the idea of climbing a ladder that can slip out from under me at any moment, sending me careening into the bushes (or worse yet, the driveway). This should have been an omen, but no... I perservered. I got out the smaller stepladder, hoping to at least be able to scrape what little paint I could reach. I decided to begin with the front of the house (as that was the only place I could reach with the shorter ladder). I began by scraping around the windows, and to my utter horror, I discover that at least one of the windowsills has been reduced to virtual sawdust, most likely held in place by the paint I was trying to erradicate. Hmmm.... I climb the ladder, hoping to scrape the trim, where it was genuinely peeling, and found another corner of impending doom (rot). Motherpusbucket... so much for actually making improvements on my home. I shall wait until it dissolves around my ears.

Oh, Its IN There

2008-04-21T18:15:00.002-04:00

After waking up from a somewhat shortened post-work nap, I was famished and meandered into the kitchen for some type of sustenance. I decided on spaghetti, as it is fairly quick with minimal preparation. I poured some Ragu into the saucepan while the pasta boiled. Now, I know the Prego commercial say "Its In There" but that is completely fallacious; it is thin, watery and tasteless. Ragu is far better in my opinion, but I still firmly believe in sprucing up one's tomato sauce. So, out of my plethora of spice jars, I pulled out a large Italian seasoning. Said jar has two openings on the lid; one with holes to carefully mete out spices, and an open side into which one may insert some type of spoon. In my sleep-deprived stupor, I opened the wrong side and gave a generous shake. I was immediately horrified to see roughly 1/2 c of seasoning resting on top of about 1 1/2 cups of sauce!!! I scooped out as much seasoning as I could that had not yet been tainted with red, and stared helplessly at my simmering lunch. The rescue? I decided to add more sauce! You know, dilute the spice. At any rate, the sauce ended up being quite good; a bit more fibrous than I would normally have made, but whatever.

La Primavera

2008-04-20T07:42:00.004-04:00

This morning I have decided to be completely selfish and skip church in order to be one with Nature. That sounds far more earthy-crunchy than I had intended, but so be it. Today looks like it will be genuinely gorgeous, and this is such a fantastic time of year. New England is beginning the process of recovering from a brutal, bleak winter. We are past the point of Biblical downpours everyday, and the trees are starting to bud. People are having brush fires in their yard that remind me of my childhood, running around barefoot and playing "guns" with the neighborhood kids (back when it was ok to have a cap-gun). The last few days that have been nice, I have either been in the house teaching, or in bed due to my part-time night job. But this morning is mine. I am quite seriously thinking about parking my pale, Scottish arse on the back deck with a good book and a bottle of SPF 50.

Technological Whooligals

2008-04-20T07:30:00.002-04:00

About a month and a half ago, I proudly stepped into the 21st century and purchased my first iPod Nano. It is so tiny I live in fear that I will either lose it or break it (I am prone to freakish accidents that often wreak havoc in my wake). To date, I have successfully managed to load about 150 songs onto said thingamajiggie. Of course, when I first loaded iTunes onto my non-Mac apparatus, it instantly sucked in all of the music and videos currently residing peacefully in my hard drive. This is all well and good, except for the fact that none of these items were in a compressed format (which sort of defeats the purpose of the iPod in the first place). I figured it would be easier to just delete it all out of iTunes, and put in only those things I really wanted (I mean, after all, do I really need the Brandenburg Concertos on my iPod?), and compress them as I imported them. In theory this was a fine idea, but in actuality it turned out to be an enormous clusterfuck. Now, in what I can only assume is some sort of passive-aggressive retaliation, iTunes refuses to allow me to import any music from the hard drive. This is exceptionally annoying, since every Beatles album in existence is on my computer, and I ended up loading them manually. Once, I had considered myself somewhat technologically proficient. I have since changed my views and wonder how I could have been quite so deluded in the first place.

The Chef Obsession Continues

2008-04-17T17:55:00.002-04:00

And it is done. I have officially signed up to be a Pampered Chef Consultant! And, as it turns out, the kit had all sorts of things I do not currently own. There are several pros to this new venture, and very few cons. First, I am able to make some extra money. This is especially important, as in the summer I don't have nearly as many students, and I can only pick up but so many extra hours at my part time job. Second, it enables me to work within my own schedule, and get out and see people. But the most important reason is that it has renewed my love of cooking. For me, Kitchen Time is Therapy Time. If I am angry or upset, I cook as though preparing to feed an army. There is, perhaps, nothing finer than to beat the hell out of homemade pasta dough when one is feeling particularly homicidal (it fights back, you see). I have been known to talk people into things (sometimes good, sometimes less than good), so at least I am peddling something safe and fun to play with (well, the knives aren't really safe, but...).

Chefs Anonymous

2008-03-13T01:47:00.003-04:00

So now, after having written a veritably depressing entry, I feel compelled to write something funny or uplifting. So here goes. I am grateful that I am currently gainfully employed, for this weekend my best friend is going to be hosting a Pampered Chef party. Normally, this would not be a cause for particular celebration, but for me it is as though Christmas has come early! My kitchen is a collection of gadgets and paraphernalia that Wolfgang Puck himself would envy. I have stoneware in several shapes and sizes; a little chopper thingamawhoozi that can chop veggies and nuts, and even has a little tray to hold them in. Not to mention the fancy platter thing that is reversible: one side is set up for a veggie platter, and the other for devilled egge. What makes this tray so nifty is the fact the central piece that lays along the bottom can go in the freezer, so that you may keep your eggs cold! Now ask me how frequently I make devilled eggs.... I think my next mission will be to acquire the entire stoneware set that Pampered Chef produces. I am almost tempted to become a consultant because for a nominal fee I can have just about everything they sell... then it occurred to me that I have already purchased most of those things. I am sure some sort of intervention or support group is in order. I do believe next I will move on to the knives!!!! They cut bone, you know.....

The Shizz Nazz

2008-03-13T01:26:00.004-04:00

It would appear that my last entry was an ill omen. The adorable, often haphazard cat Ziggy met his untimely demise yesterday morning at the bumper of a speeding car. It is quite upsetting to be driving home from work, ready to go to sleep, only to find your cat in the road. Needless to say, I was (am) devastated. I find it interesting that we can become so completely attatched to, and dependent on our pets. The pain over losing an animal is (at least to me), often far more intense than losing a person. Granted, the ache is not as longlasting. After much crying (and two glasses of Scotch), I managed to get myself to go to sleep. Now I am at work, in the middle of the night, and not quite as hysterical as I was this morning. But it gives me a little pang to know that I will no longer be sharing my water with Zig, or that no feline will be waking me up in the middle of the night to come in through the bedroom window. The vet even asked me if I wanted to have him cremated and keep the ashes. It almost seems maudlin... the part of Ziggy that made him interesting has gone to some other where, and I see no reason to hang onto the shell that housed it. I think he has a much better place in my heart and memories than in an urn or in my backyard.

Friggin' Cats

2008-02-07T18:24:00.001-05:00

My cat Ziggy is a wondrous little bundle of trouble. In personality, he closely resembles Bucky from the Get Fuzzy comic strip (although less violent). He cuddles up on my bed every night and keeps my toes warm, and purrs when no one is watching (I think he feels it is not macho to purr in the presence of others). He also has "cute" little quirks, like twanging the screen of my bedroom window at 4 AM when he is ready to come back inside. Or feeling compelled to drink out of my water glass, even if he has a fresh bowl of his own water. Anyhow, the poor thing is prone to urinary blockages, and I spent a fortune on him last month to keep him alive. I can only imagine how uncomfortable it is to not be able to pee. Anyhow, the same symptoms have arisen tonight, and now he is camped out at the vet's. Again. He has frequent flier miles there; he is only 6, and has had at least 9 rabies shots I can remember off the top of my head for getting into fights with unknown animals. I am hoping they will erect a plaque to my cat, as chief benefactor in the construction of the new wing at the vet's office. He can be a pain in the arse sometimes, but he's an adorable little fuzzball, and I think I would like to keep him around for a bit.

Words

2008-02-04T01:22:00.000-05:00

Words are tricky little buggers. They can accommodate you to express fantastic ideas and feelings. But using them without care can cause harm, more often than not unintentionally. Tonight someone made an offhanded comment about a hardship she has had to endure. I have never had the misfortune to go through this particular travesty, and cannot even begin to comprehend what she has experienced. I know that her comment was not made in malice, and most likely she had no idea what she was saying (at least, I would sort of like to think so). At any rate, I took great offense to this offhanded remark, and decided to remove myself from the social situation entirely. For some reason, those words seemed to sum up several things for me, and I am certain she did not intend for me to take them as I did, but so be it: In a few words, she managed to (inadvertently) make me feel as though any suffering I have survived in my life cannot possibly compare to hers, and any loss I feel (or have felt) is inadequate. She has someone to take every step of that path with her; meanwhile, those of us who are hoofing it alone are left to feel that we have not measured up in some way; and by "we" I mean "me." Do we ever truly take into account the affect of the words we say to others? Words are tricky little buggers....

Football is Life

2008-02-04T01:17:00.000-05:00

This evening, the Patriots suffered a devastating loss to the Giants in the Super Bowl. In the grand scheme of life, this is a ridiculously trivial matter. However, for me, it is cause to wear a mantel of mourning. As a die-hard football fan (Patriots, of course), I watch the game for several reasons. First, its just plain fun. Second, I like having something in my life that has absolutely nothing to do with music; it is my outlet, if you will. Third, its nice to give myself over to something where I must completely relinquish my need for control. After all, I am not Bill Bellichick, and I cannot direct or foresee the outcome of any game. But after tonight, I can honestly say that I have not felt this ill in ages. Its quite depressing to get your hopes pinned on a completely undefeated season, only to be let down in the last 35 seconds or so. But alas, it is done. Now, I feel I should be more devoted to the Red Sox in my 6 months of pining for the commencement of the next football season. After all, today just ends this season. Tomorrow opens the door for the next.

People are Strange

2008-01-01T02:07:00.000-05:00

One of my favorite Doors songs; but entirely beside the point. In keeping with my New Year's theme, I am going to write about something new. Or rather, someone new. As I said, I have met some new and interesting people in the past year. Some that were truly interesting, and some who are interesting purely because they are disturbing or bizarre. In the past few months, I have met someone who falls into the former category. I find him interesting for several reasons. First, as a cynical and sarcastic person, I am usually on my guard when meeting new people. However, from my first meeting with him, I was (for once) completely at ease. I thoroughly enjoy the fact that I have met another human being around whom I do not feel I need to act or portray a certain persona. Second, he does not make my Psycho Radar run amok. As a general rule, people with deeply seeded issues or neuroses seem to flock to me. Not necessarily in a romantic sense, but at work, through students, etc. The nutters come to me as if I were their appointed Messiah of Lunacy. Third, the man can not only intelligently discuss the White Album, but understands the places of the Beatles, Pink Floyd, Sabbath and Led Zepplin in the evolution of rock. I have no idea where this will lead, but its nice to know that there are people out there who can renew my faith in humanity, remind me that I don't always have to be an assuming bitch, and bring to life a part of me I felt had been dormant for far too long.

Happy New Year!

2008-01-01T02:01:00.000-05:00

Well, it is quite obvious that I have been rather remiss in writing in my blog as of late. However, this is one of my several New Year's resolutions: To frequently update the Saga of Lola. I figure that if I make more than one resolution, I am bound to keep at least one of them. Another year has come and gone... its almost impossible to fathom! So much has happened in the last 365 days! I have finished my master's, uprooted myself back to MA, been through some tough times with friends, rekindled old friendships, and met some new and wonderful people. It is amazing to see how one's perception of time changes as we get older. When I was younger, a year seemed an eternity. Waiting for the arrival of Christmas was a never-ending period of anticipation. Now I await Christmas with the trepidation of trying to make sure I have bought everything, baked all I need to, and still had time to try and enjoy the season as a whole. I used to remember every ringing in of the New Year; now I am lucky if I can remember the next morning! However, all things considered, it has been a wonderful year. I can only hope that the new one proves as exciting and unexpected.

Oh my.....

2007-11-22T17:54:00.000-05:00

So I joined an online dating service. Basically, it comes down to the fact that I am a busy woman, and I do not have time to be trolling bars to meet men. So, I have decided to be practical and hire an online company that can do it for me. And, to a certain extent, it weeds out the people who are truly NOT my type. I have met some wonderful and interesting people on this site... and I have also met some truly disturbing individuals. Within the first 24 hrs of having joined, I had one who told me I was "devastatingly beautiful" (which, of course, is a nice ego booster). However, in the same email, the individual also told me that he was auditioning for the part of boyfriend (his words, not mine), and if I was available for marriage, that was ok, too. Now... I like my men assertive... but this is a touch over the top. Another one wanted to know if I wore pantyhose or thigh highs. Now, maybe I am old fashioned, but I am convinced there is more to a person than their attire, and I told him as much. His response was to ask me out for a drink, and inquire what I would "wear for him." I think not. It is also becoming apparent that I should proofread my profile... You know, just to take out any mentions of the word "assertive" and to ensure that I don't have "I love psychos" secretly hidden in there somewhere.

Sport Eating

2007-11-22T17:48:00.000-05:00

Today is Thanksgiving... which I believe is some sort of Native American derivative word for "eat until your GI tract cries." Usually, Turkey Day is an enormous event for my family. Its nice because some of my mother's family, and some of my father's family come. However, we were small in ranks this year; it was only 7 of us. Unfortunately, I don't know how to cook for 7 people, and I shall be eating turkey and pie until New Years'. However, this year Thanksgiving was different. It felt more like a Sunday dinner than a big, holiday, family event. It was less than 5 hrs from when everyone showed up to the time when I was by my onesies, finishing the last clean-up bits. I didn't get as much time to visit with people this year. But nonetheless, I am thankful. I am thankful that I have such a wonderful family, and that I am close enough to be able to spend time with them. We may not always turn out in numbers, but we love one another, and that is really the only thing that matters. Happy Thanksgiving!

Anonymous 4, Sequaelia

2007-11-07T18:51:00.000-05:00

It seems to me that everywhere I turn, my friends are either married and/or preggers. Its not that I am in any particular rush to be in either one of those states, but it does seem that I am rapidly being pushed into the Single Minority. There are but few of us left. And, of course, there are always the aunts who consistently ask if I am dating anyone (although, thankfully none have called me a spinster in several years). I think we single women should band together. Thus far, I have decided that Meg, Kellie, Myrna and I are all members of a very elite quartet. Myrna came up with the lovely name of Anonymous 4 (certainly a music geek moment, but I like it). Since a group that sings renaissance music has already stolen that title, I have gone for Sequaelia. After all, our life as singles is as dying a breed as renaissance singers. Hmm.... maybe I should inform the other two women that I have thrust them into this quartet? Nah... let 'em be surprised.

Disillusionment, or Friends with Benefits?

2007-10-28T23:25:00.001-04:00

I have decided something about myself that may either be wonderful, or tragically limiting. I am a strong woman. Yay. But one does not go through the things I have endured without growing and learning a thing or two. My senior year in college was supposed to be fantabulous. Instead, my mother had a stroke and my theoretical fiance shit-canned my ass. So of course, these are not the makings for wondrous life memories. Somehow, I inadvertently fell into my mother's shoes. We always claim we will NEVER be like our parents. I was no different... as a teenager, I swore I would never be my mother. However, a few years down the road, and innumerably years wiser, I realize that I am a somewhat more open-minded and certainly more brazen version of my own mother. And I am fiercely proud of that fact. But alas, I digress. I have discovered that, as a "strong" woman, few men truly want to be with me. I sense there is some sort of unspoken complex? I don't know. And truly I don't care, as I am not likely to change my being in the immediate (or distant) future. At any rate, it is not looking good for me in terms of finding a suitable husband who does not want me to change my intrinsic personality. Compromise is acceptable, but where does one draw the line? So my ultimate question is, do we, as strong women in the world, cave in to the demands of an antiquated societal norm, or do we just find Friends With Benefits that can supply all the biological needs of release and procreation? I really haven't decided yet... but match.com is looking better and better every day.

Don't Bother Me, I am Watching the Game

2007-10-28T21:13:00.000-04:00

It is no secret that I am an avid football fan. I, whether for better or worse, actually broke up with someone because he chose to talk at me during a football game (and not about things pertaining to the previous play). Anyhow, the Patriots are my team. I realize that, as far as New England sports go, I am a newcomer to the Fan life, and have had it pretty good thus far. Since I have been watching, we have won 3 Superbowls (and, of course, the Sox broke The Curse). Many older fans have chastised me over the fact that they lived through many years of crappy playing by the Patriots, and that I have missed out on the true angst that makes a Pats/Sox fan. Whatever. I can't really be held accountable for the fact that I was not fully cognizant when the ball went between Bucky's legs, or that the Pats didn't actually know how to play football before 1997 or so. But I digress. Since I have begun watching football, my life is scheduled around the Pats playing schedule. I NEVER miss a game (in fact, once I completely blew off work in order to go to a game at the stadium, which goes quite against my personal work ethic). So this evening, I watched the Pats/Redskins game, and was disheartened to see that the game was just not interesting to watch. While I like seeing my team win, it is pretty sad that the other team never showed up. With a score of 52-0 (until the last 3 minutes), it became apparent that snipers could take out every one of the Pats, leaving the Redskins all by their onesies, and they STILL would have lost. That sort of takes the oomph out of watching The Game.

Spinnybits

2007-10-27T16:02:00.000-04:00

My friend Andrew has an amazing capacity to give things unique and often bizarre names. Gold's Gym is affectionately termed "Lumpy's Bump Menagerie." As I have recently acquired a new car, I figured it needed a new and unique name. Who better to come up with one than Sir Andrew? The complete name given was: His Ducal Serene Highness Stanislaw Spinnybits, Third Regent and Landscape Architect of the Sargasso Sea. I am not entirely certain what this means, or where on earth it came from, but I think I like it. However, it will take me weeks to memorize that, so I am thinking I might just keep it at Spinnybits. I often wonder how Andrew comes up with these things, and have since decided that it is probably better not to question it. The man works for the government; I don't know exactly what his station is, but I am quite sure that if he told me, he would have to kill me.

Thank God

2007-10-03T21:09:00.000-04:00

Sometimes, I forget to take the time to realize just how lucky I am. God has blessed me with a wonderful family, precious friends, and a gift of music that I would not give up for anything in this world. But usually, I don't actually take the time to thank Him. I just seem to think that the things I have are from my own doing, when I realize in my heart that this is not so. While I update my blog today, I think about the car accident I had just hours earlier. If I had not hit my brakes when I did I would, at the least, be in the hospital, maybe worse. Someone was watching out for me today, and I can't begin to thank Him enough. There are still a lot of things that I want to do in this life, and I can only hope that it is part of His plan that I do them. Most of the time, we go on our way, not thinking of anything other than ourselves. I wish it didn't take a mild crisis like a car accident to remind me that there is a greater plan out there, and that I am only a part of it, not the driving force.

Too Much Information

2007-10-03T21:04:00.000-04:00

Before Lola had a nearly tragic accident, she was regaling readers with the stories of her vacation... and sort of got lazy and forgot about them. During her jaunt in NH, she discovered an important thing about parents and adulthood. When we are children, we try to think of ourselves as adults. However, once we reach adulthood, we discover it is not all it is cracked up to be. Lola got just such a life lesson while camping with friends in the woods. Lola learned that there is a nebulous dividing line with one's parents. Whilst growing up, parents tell their children only what is necessary for daily life... however, as we age, they let down their guard. At some point, Lola and her best friend discovered that this invisible line had been crossed when her father started making jokes of a sexual nature. Amongst friends, this is completely normal. But Lola must say, there is something decidedly bizarre about hearing someone you think of as a father discussing sexual topics, or in fact, his sex life. I do believe that crosses the Too Much Information Act of 1974. Lola will say, however, that she is mildly amused (if somewhat disturbed) by the candor that parents are now showing around her.

Crash Into Me

2007-10-03T21:00:00.000-04:00

So there I am... driving along... and I develop momentary color-blindness. On a relatively busy road in Norwood, I mistook a red light for a green one, and only realized at the last moment my error. I slammed on my brakes, but unfortunately not in time to avoid collision with another car. I suppose it could have been worse... if I had not hit my brakes, the other car would have crashed into my driver side door, leaving me squashed. As it was, I hit his passenger side fender. Basically, his car was left with a dent, while mine was crumpled up like an unwanted piece of paper. Antifreeze is not such a bright, lovely green when it is oozing out of one's car onto the pavement. And for those of you who have never had your airbags deployed, let me warn you... the scent is something akin to being on the firing range with melting plastic in the background. Granted, I am quite happy to be sitting here, continuing the Saga of Lola.... but am also rather pissed that I have to buy a new car, considering I just finished paying for this one last month. Ah, God moves in mysterious ways.

Plunk

2007-08-31T19:22:00.000-04:00

During one of my uneventful moments on the dock, waiting for some hapless fish to get stuck on my hook, I discovered that at some point, Laura's reel had lost a screw. While I was sitting talking to her, slowly reeling in the line, I discovered that I was turning the reel, but nothing was happening. I looked down to discover the handle was in one hand, the rod in another. Neither one of us had heard the screw fall out, and we most certainly should have heard the plunk. At any rate, later that same evening, Matt was sitting with me while Laura helped with dinner. I continued to fish, for I had discovered that as long as I held the handle carefully, it would stay in place until we had gone to the hardware store to buy a new screw. I was explaining to Matt the mysterious injury to the rod, when I cast the line, and heard a tell-tale PLUNK! There was a split second of silence while Matt looked down at the water, and I began hysterical, uncontrollable gales of laughter. He asked me what it was, and when I could not control my laughing, I just held up the rod and showed him the handle-less reel. Both of us were in hysterics for quite some time. I spent a few moments trying to figure out the proper way to explain it to Laura... I finally decided on: "Before I tell you this, I want to tell you I will fix it... Now remember that plunk we didn't hear before? Well... I have since heard it, and it sounded exactly as you would expect it to sound...."

These Are All Mine Now.

2007-08-31T19:17:00.000-04:00

Matt taught me to play poker the other night! I have wanted to learn, but no one has successfully explained it to me. Matt was quite the teacher. I discovered that the game is all about playing odds, and appearing as though you know what you are doing. I am good at that sort of faking. He explained the different hands to me, and betting strategies. Soon, I was more or less able to play without constantly asking questions. At one point, I laid down my cards, pointed to the chips and said in a sweet, innocent voice, "So these are all mine now, right?" They laughed and agreed that I was not entirely helpless. I had a wonderful night of beginner's luck, and Laura and I had to loan her father and husband chips in order to keep them playing. Poker is just no fun if there are only two of you!

Fishing with the Peanut Gallery

2007-08-31T19:11:00.000-04:00

On this trip, I was actually able to fish a few times. I, by no stretch of the imagination, know what I am doing while fishing... I have but the vaguest idea of what I am supposed to do. But Laura and I had a hell of a time sitting on the dock, fishing, and shooting the shit. I caught several little fish, while Laura managed to get a small-mouth bass that was big enough to eat. We of course decided that it was necessary to eat what we had caught, so her father brought us down to the shore and showed us both how to properly clean a fish. I can honestly say it was a touch gross, but not so bad it would keep me from doing it myself, should I catch a fish large enough. We sauteed it with butter, salt and pepper. I thought I had died and gone to heaven. There is something existential in catching and eating your own food. Maybe just empowering. Anyhow, I was on a mission. Wednesday morning, I actually got up at 5:30 in the morning to sit on the dock with a rod and some worms! It was gorgeous. The weather was perfect, the water calm, and I even got to see a sunrise for the first time in years! Unfortunately, the only fish I caught was not really large enough to eat. And, he was troublesome... the little bugger jumped out of the bucket 5 times! He managed to time it so that each time he made an escape attempt, I had just cast my fishing line. I tried to reason with him... told him that jumping onto the dock where he would suffocate was going to help no one. I finally decided that I didn't really want to eat a fish that was so hell-bent on dying in the first place. So I let him go.

Sunrise, Sunset

2007-08-31T19:08:00.000-04:00

It is easy for one to forget the simple things in life. Lola had become so engrossed in her studies, music, and beginning a career that she had forgotten how much she loved the outdoors. While in NH, she was able to just sit back and listen for once. And yes, believe it or not, she was quiet. One morning, she got up at the ass crack of dawn, and was able to see the sunrise over the mountains across the lake. One cannot watch the sun rise or set without feeling some intense sense of awe and wonder about the world around them. The sounds of creatures in the woods was relaxing, as was the constant breaking of waves on the rocks along the shoreline. Maybe Lola will buy a house on a lake in NH when she is rich and famous.

Noodles on for Safety

2007-08-31T16:18:00.000-04:00

It turns out the technological black-out was not the end of my universe. In fact, it was quite nice. I arrived in NH at the camping place (whose name I have sworn I would not mention in this blog) to meet Laura (my dearest and apparently most patient friend), her husband Matt (a constant source if intrigue) and her parents (lovely and fascinating people). Shortly after arrival, we all decided it would be prudent to head down to the lake, as it was so hot. We came up with the brilliant idea of placing lawn chairs into the lake, and brought along a cooler. Laura and I got some of those styrofoam noodle things and set about fastening ourselves into the chairs. We used one as a makeshift seatbelt, and the other as a floating footrest. After several beers, it occurred to me that should a good wave come, and either of us was dumped into the drink, we would be floating ass-end up, unable to right ourselves since we had used the noodles for "safety." Her comment was "Do scoop me up if I should go ass over tea-kettle." I do believe that is what best friends are for... to pick you up when you have gotten yourself into some situation that seemed like a good idea at the time.

Lola Travels

2007-08-24T19:21:00.000-04:00

At the ass-crack of dawn tomorrow, I will be venturing off to the wonderful, tax-free land of New Hampshire. I will be camping for an indeterminate length of time with my best friend and her husband (and various others, apparently). I have realized that I am looking forward to this trip far more than is rational. After all, I have been to NH a hundred times before. But for some reason, this one is different. I have just finished school, and am about to begin teaching once again. In a way, this is the time to take a breath before I leap. The last few weeks have been somewhat tumultuous, and I am looking forward to the dead quiet of NH.... or rather, the extreme nature-noisiness of the outdoors. At any rate, for several days, I will be away from computer, internet, and most likely any sort of cellular reception. I am terrified. I used to camp quite frequently, but at some point in life became dependent on technological devices that I am not entirely sure how to properly operate. As I will be away from the laptop, I will actually have to write by hand... on paper... with a pen. I fear that this trip might result in a mild case of carpel tunnel. I am not entirely sure if I can even remember how to physically write in the English language. I suppose time will tell.

F#%* The Fung-Wah Bus

2007-08-22T11:40:00.000-04:00

This past Saturday was the big move back to MA. As if the entire ordeal of packing and saying my goodbyes was not stressful enough, I had a bus try and kill me not once but twice on the way home. The actual packing portion went well.... we got most everything into the UHaul on Friday, and had Saturday morning just for the last minute things. On the road by 9, and all was well.... until we get to CT. As I have lamented before, this particular state is a state of confusion and irritation every time I drive through it. Saturday was no exception. The traffic was not terrible, but not fantastic either. One nimrod had clipped the mirror on the UHaul, and the Fung-Wah bus tried to kill me. For those of you not in the know, the Fung-Wah bus is a shuttle from China Town in Boston, to China Town in NY for a nominal fee. On two separate occasions during my trek through CT, the same friggin bus changed lanes without checking his blindspot. I know this, because I was in said blind spot, and the front of my car almost got demolished not once, but twice! No... I am not bitter. But I have since realized that I am the reason there are gun control laws... If I had had some sort of firearm with me in the car, there would have been a nasty little postal incident.

Discard Fallen Insects

2007-08-16T08:40:00.000-04:00

Triumph! Today I have waged war on the wasps living under my tarp. And by my tarp, I mean the one that covers the bike I am too lazy to ride. They have built quite the impressive little nest there, and I have been somewhat leery about venturing outside into their domain. So I borrowed some flying insect killer from my father. Which is another issue..... why on earth do bug destroying companies make these gargantuan bottles of insecticide? Chances are, the people buying it are not trying to wipe out an entire insect population. But I digress. So I read the directions on this bottle of poison quite intently, only to discover that is intended for indoor, not outdoor use. Ok.... so the question is, do I actually buy the proper chemical for outdoor use, or do I just bite the bullet and spray the hell out of the hive? After all, the last thing I want to do is spray them with a weak toxin that merely pisses them off. As if wasps aren't cantankerous enough to begin with. I chose the latter. This morning, before the little nasties had properly woken up, I opened up the sliding door, used a mop handle to pull the tarp aside, and went to town. I sprayed the HELL out of that wasps' nest! MWAHAHAHA!!!! After a few seconds, they started to twitch and fall to the ground. I happened to see, at the end of the bottle's directions, to "Discard Fallen Insects." Discard fallen insects? Wha? That makes them sound like martyrs... I don't fuckin' think so. No, I shall not discard them. But I might give them a Viking funeral.

New Beginnings

2007-08-14T19:51:00.000-04:00

And so Lola sits, very sad on the couch, as the countdown begins to the Great Move. For the past 2 years (exactly, as of yesterday), Lola has been living an interesting, if somewhat less than riveting existence in NJ. Whilst here, she has finished her Master of Music degree; no meager feat. She has also met people that would change her life irrevocably and help her grow as a person. But the time has come.... graduation has been and gone, and she needs to move in one direction or another. After much deliberation, Lola thought it would be best to move home to MA. After all, the piano is there (and thus her business) and it is also rent-free. Being a recent graduate makes pretty much all of one's immediate decisions financial ones. Lola knows that what she is doing is exactly what she needs to do at this point in her life. But she can't help but feel angst and trepidation over leaving the wonderful friends she has met while here in the Sometimes Stinky State. So whenever if you happen to remember a time in your life when you had to make a heartrending yet exhilarating choice, say a little prayer for Lola. I know I will.

Cheney/Voldemort '08

2007-08-13T09:46:00.000-04:00

So there I am, horrifically irritated on I-95 on my way back to MA for a cookout at my brother's house. I have made this drive innumerable times, and am quite sure my car could make it without me. I merely point it north, and it seems to know the way. This particular trip, however, is less than ordinary. When I started out from NJ, there was rain. I am not talking a bit of water, I am referring to the Ark-building rain where one cannot see more than 50 ft in front of one's car. This was problem number one. Then, of course, there is CT. I firmly believe that New England would suffice perfectly well without this particular state (sorry to all you Connecticutians). We could just blow it up and then stitch RI and NY directly together. Or just have areally big bay. It is the bipolar state. Half the state think that they belong to New York, and thus root for the Yankmees. The other half has the decency to act like proper New Englanders and root for the Red Sox (no matter how trying this is at times). CT is also famous for more than its fair share of un-driving. While I am trying desperately not to get killed on a fun strip of highway in New Haven, some jackass who got his license out of a Cracker Jack box, flies by me and proceeds to cut me off, so as not to end up on I-91 by mistake. I look closely, and notice this fool has a bumper sticker that says "Cheney- Voldemort '08." Despite his obvious lack of driving skills, I guffawed as I pondered this little witticism. I suppose even CT has a sense of humor.

Great Expectations

2007-08-04T03:29:00.000-04:00

In my relatively short span on this earth, I have discovered a few things about expectations. First, you cannot always hold the same expectations for others that you hold for yourself. Second, expectations must sometimes be altered given another's point in life. Third, expectations should never define a relationship of any kind. As a general rule, I have extremely (sometimes exorbitant) expectations of myself; in work, study, etc. However, I have learned that I cannot keep the same template for my friends and family. Tonight I realized that I have been holding ridiculously high expectations for someone who is just not equipped to meet them at his personal point in life. This friend is 5 yrs younger than I am. Granted, this is not a great span of time, but by the same token, I have learned a few life lessons that he has not yet encountered. For example...I know that if I ever needed anything, he would be there for me in a minute; but sometimes, the simple things escape him entirely. Its not always about the grand gesture, but sometimes just the little things, like doing something you say you are going to do. I am a person that, if I say I am going to do something, I do it. No questions asked (usually). I have learned that sometimes people are not always at the same point that you are. I have learned that sometimes it is prudent to be patient, and let others work their own shit out in their own time.