"Self-love is not so vile a sin as self-neglecting"


-William Shakespeare

The Best Way To Shop

Shop through igive to support the New Repertory Theatre! Here's how it works: shop your (and my!) favorite websites by clicking through igive, or install the igive shopping window on your computer. The retailer will give a percentage of your sale to The New Repertory Theatre. What's in it for you? Besides supporting a great cause, you get access to special shopping deals!

Saturday, September 13, 2008

I'm Back!

Yes, I have been AWOL well, all summer. We can blame my being busy with a new boyfriend, a fabulous makeup and wig gig (oh no, that rhymed!) with a celebrity, rubbing elbows with some political bigwigs. And some shopping.

Stay tuned for more of my very opinionated self!

Thursday, April 24, 2008

Dumbass Headline of the Week

And the award goes to the Boston Sunday Globe, Money & Careers section, for:


"Multilingual workplace can translate into opportunities"

My new weightloss secret...



Honestly, am I the only one who finds this odd?








and......







Is it web-based email in a pill, or an online calorie burner? Did I just uncover the greatest conspiracy of the 21st century? Or did I just blow your mind?

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Official Decree

I am lifting the ban. This could be the perfect opportunity for a young man looking to get in on the ground floor with a smart, funny, sexy, independent, low-maintenance woman. Clearly, whatever issues I have surrounding dating, self-esteem is not one of them.



I do have some questions for my loyal readers. (assuming that I do have loyal readers. Hello! Is anybody there? The numbers on the tracker keep going up, but you know, the comments option is there for a reason.)

I think that the whole dating thing has changed since the last time I got into all that. So, first question.


  • How do I find guys to date? I work for a professional theatre company, so clearly, I'm not meeting any eligible guys through that avenue. Well, I am, just not eligible for me. I am meeting lots of fantastic men who are great dancers and have excellent fashion sense. Anyway, back to the topic at hand. I used to live in a hip little town, where meeting people was fantastically easy. But now it's not so easy in the big bad Boston. Everybody says that the internet is the way to go. Okay, I guess we actually did answer that question.

  • How does one plan a date? What should one do? And how does a person who doesn't drink deal with date jitters?
  • What's the deal with the whole sex on the third date thing? Is that a myth? It seems awfully regimented.
  • Okay, here's a really tough one. I've always had really close male friends. Where is the line between friendship and something more? The line between date and hanging out? How can you tell the difference between 'he's just not into you" and "he is into you but he's shy and/or respectful?" How do I let someone know I'm interested in them without being a total embarrassing dork? Can I just have a friend call his friend to find out if he likes me? Am I destined to be perpetually stuck in junior high?
  • At what point in the dating process do you tell someone your secrets? I don't have any dark, scary secrets, but there are some things you don't share right away. But, there are some things that you don't want to wait too long to tell.
  • Why am I doing this? Why don't I just go back to the plan of being a crazy cat lady? Oh, right. There are some things feline companionship just can't offer.

So, seriously. Leave some pithy advice. Use the comments. And if your best friend thinks I'm cute, tell my best friend and we can go roller-skating. My mom can drop us off if his mom picks us up.

Monday, April 14, 2008

What are you trying to tell me?


I saw this bus stop billboard on my way home, and I'm confused. "you can't buy happiness, but you can drink it." What does this mean? Nestle Quik is no longer for sale? Drinking Nestle Quik will make you happy and you can't buy any mwah-ha-ha!
Or does it mean that Nestle Quik is now free?
And really, isn't it all just a little too close to drinking the Kool-Aid?

Saturday, April 12, 2008

A love letter

When I was twelve years old, my grandfather, my mother's father, died. He had been ill for over year. He had been a carpenter all his life, and for years before it was found to be harmful, worked with asbestos. He died of asbestosis. Grandfather, or Grandpa OJ, as my cousin Robert called him, was from Canada. I have a very vivid memory from when he was ill, of visiting in the hospital when his family from Canada made the trip down to visit. I remember exactly how he said firmly, with his French-Canadian accent, "This is my granddaughter." The light in his eyes was palpable. He died a few weeks after this. I didn't know for some time why that memory stood so strong for me.




My grandfather had an eighth-grade education, but he was smart. He had a few strong beliefs: educating oneself (he read the paper cover to cover every day after work with his tea), tolerance (I love my mother's story that of all her friends' parents, he was the only one that accepted her gay best friend, without comment-and remember, times were different back then!), the value of a hard day's work (he never missed a day until he got sick), but most of all, he believed in family.




A few years after he died, my mother sat me down and told me our family secret. Grandpa OJ was not her or my aunt's biological father, and so was not my biological grandfather.. My grandmother had been married before she married Grandfather. Uncle David was his biological son, but there was no blood connection between Grandfather and my mother, auntie Beth, my cousins Robert and Mark(the other cousins weren't even born yet), or me. But he was my real grandfather. He loved me. He doted on me. Every day I see the toy box he built me for my first Christmas. "Built by Grandpa, December 25" it says on the inside. Robert and Mark each have one too.




My grandfather visited me last night. Every once in a great while, he visits my aunt and myself. I'm not sure why we are so lucky to have this happen, while the rest of the family does not get to have this miracle happen to them. But Grandfather visits me in my dreams. It is real though, I know that he is the one who chooses to come to me, when I need him. Last night, I was in an old house, similar to the one that my mother grew up in. They was some scary dream stuff going on, with bad guys after me. But my grandfather was there and he saved me. In my dream, he died to save me. Then, in my dream, I found a secret room that had belonged to Grandfather. It was full of pictures, notes, letters, diplomas, and all sorts of other family documents. All of which were of my mother and myself.




When I awoke, I was still processing the dream. Then I looked at the calendar. April 12. My grandfather died 21 years ago today. I know why he visited me last night. To let me know that he could not have loved me more if I had been his blood grand-child. That he loved me fiercely, and was proud of me. That he would have done anything for me.




I love you, Grandfather. I miss you. I wish that you were here. I feel bad for my cousins who never knew you. Robert and I are the only ones who remember you. You taught me the value of education, and pride in my work, and tolerance. But, most importantly, you taught me the value of family and unconditional love. I will always love you, and will always be thankful that you were my Grandpa OJ.


Friday, April 11, 2008

Something else I like

  • Rummaging in dusty secondhand stores accompanied by someone with a similar appreciation for the finer things in life. But not similar that we end up playing tug o' war with the same coveted item.