There was a wicked ice storm overnight (Thursday into Friday) which got the kids and Doug a delay of start. I took the kids to school myself, dropped them off, ran to the bank to get some money so I could go to lunch with FL and LH and whomever else wanted to come from the old company... got home, thinking I had just enough time to shower, dress and get over to the restaurant in time for our 11:30 meeting time.
Instead, I had to postpone for a half hour to clean.
My stupid mother fucking DOG (I'm yelling now) had ripped the trash up!
He ate trash in the kitchen, my BED, Geoff's BED, Jessica's floor and on my fucking COUCH!!!
So... I had to clean the whole damn place. I cleaned up the bulk of things, got in the shower, met FL, BJ, and RvA for a wicked good lunch (LH and others had to opt out. sniff... and congrats on closing on your condo FL. Par-Tay!)
Then came home to scrub the dickens out of everything and wash all the bedding and scrub some more.
I recognize it was my fault for putting tasty things in the trash. And usually I shut the trash in the bathroom before leaving the house, but for some reason I brain-cramped yesterday and left the barrel out. Goddamn stupid fucking dog, and stupid fucking me.
He knew he had done something very bad, so he hid from me all day. Good thing. Not that I would have hurt him or anything, but I would have used my meanest voice and made my Bill Cowher faces at him. He definitely was better off avoiding my angry ass!
I spent the afternoon sending out resumes on Flipdog.com, I think I sent out about 20.
Then, I worked on a mock site for one of the people I'd spoken with at the beginning of the week in regards to employment. I'm almost done... I'll let you see it when I'm finished! Your critiques appreciated.
I went to bed early last night, after drinking one very too damn strong kaluha sombrero, and slept peacefully until the dog started puking at 6am.
I was sleeping blissfully this morning, after dog puking episodes stopped. I was curled up with that same very bad dog who after a day of looking at me sheepishly from the corner with guilt filled eyes, weaseled his way back into my graces (just by being fucking CUTE and warm -- very important)... I was dreaming of... naked Marge (Simpsons reference for those who don't get it).
It was about 10:30 a.m., and Doug decided I'd slept enough. I enjoy sleeping in on Saturday mornings, and as long as the world is relatively peaceful it is never a problem. Like this morning. But, Doug chooses to get his arse outta bed at like 7:30... so by 10 he's bored senseless.
"Let's go to the zoo." He is leaning over my flannel entombed body, breathing warmly into my face and pressing on my forehead with his...
"Get up honey, let's go to the zoo today. I'm bored. I'm tired of hanging out here in the house all the time. Let's go to the zoo. See some monkeys."
Uh, I'm awake 30 seconds and you are pitching a trip to the zoo to me??? Getthefuckouttahere. I'm sleeeeeeepin.
"Nah baby, get up. It's a beautiful day. Sunny, no wind, let's go. And then after we'll go out for Chinese food."
He tells the kids to get ready and then hops in the shower. Geoff then comes in to jump up and down on my head screaming "We're going to the zooooooo!!!!!! We're going to the zooooooo! Mommy, get dressed, we've gotta go see monkeys and elephants!"
I have no choice now. Can't pretend I was dreaming his insane proposition. So up for some coffee... Shower, Dress. Get on the road. We're going to the Franklin Park Zoo.
The ride down to the city was a study in weather contrasts. We got to see what Boston Area weathermen really are talking about when they say "North and West of the city will get hit harder..." or, "inside the 95/128 loop..."
Up here, everything is frosted in a thick cake of ice, kind of like God's very own Krispy Kreme doughnut machine got turned on and a glistening glaze of sugar was dumped on the earthly conveyor belt. All the trees are frosted lovely and white, shining in the sun, and where no one has stepped in the snow there is a sheen of bright glassy ice, waiting to be stomped on and cracked through (but there is no creamy middle. Just cold snow. Sigh).
As we drove southward, the frosting became less evident, until everything just looked Boston Winter cold. The sanders and salters had come through and the snow on the sides of the highway were caked and filthy. Ugly and urban. The winter wonderland of the far north faded into the grimy reality of the city.
We got to the zoo at 12:30. It's in Franklin Park on Blue Hill Avenue in Dorchester... an area of the city that has seen better days but I like it's old school charm. It is kind of a run down skankyassed zoo on the zoo scale of things, comparing it to Pittsburgh and the Bronx, which are zoos par excellence. But it's our zoo. And it is open year round... at least the monkey house is.
The monkey house is what we've always called it. The zoo calls it the Tropical Rainforest. Monkey house is more like it because the minute you walk in all you whiff is monkey stink, and you know the monkeys are in tha house! Follow that link and you can watch the gorillas in the Tropical Rainforest live online... it's not bad.
And for those uneducated, monkey stink is nasty stink.
Think of a large horde of really nasty, sweaty football players who play and play and play, but then are forbidden to ever shower. For weeks. No Tommy Hilfiger cologne, no cornstarch based odor absorbing powder in the pits. Nope. Stink results, and that my friend is Monkey Stink.
But the monkeys, er, I mean, gorillas, are wicked cool. Here are some pictures I took, not just of the gorillas, but of the Geigers. The one of Geoff leaning against the glass with his back didn't come out as good because I couldn't use the flash... Joe the Main Big Serious Gorilla is sitting with his back to Geoff, being coy. You've got to look hard, or else all you see is Geoff's P hat and jacket reflection. when
We spent about 4 hours in the monkey house, the bird house and the giftshop. Everything else was shut down or the animals were elsewhere... no giraffes or elephants. We didn't bother to go up to see if the lions were in their pens or not. It was too damn cold.
Geoff got a fox mask, which he is wearing on the couch right now. He also got a new baseball hat because his P hat is getting totally ghetto. The P hat (pictured above in the banner where I wrote (a)musings on the ground in chalk one day when he was chalkwriting) was given to him by Jessica's best friend's brother, Matt (see Geoff's birthday pictures for some pictures of Matt). Geoff loves Matt, hence, he adores that hat. Doug wants to get rid of it because it is just beat to hell... so we showed him a cool black baseball hat with a tiger on it, and "Franklin Park Zoo" emblazoned in green above the tiger. So that came home with us. Jessica got a bead choker with her name on it, and a bookmark.
We left the zoo, still with an uneasy air of monkey stink around our collective personages. We deliberately spent a ton of time walking around outside in the butt-freezing cold to help dissipate the stench, but I could still detect it about us in the car.
We then headed to Kowloon (bwong!). For those who grew up in the Boston Area, or at least those who have been here as long as I have, the Kowloon (bwong!) is a landmark on Rte 1 Northbound, and has lasted longer than almost any eatery on that stretch of road, including the rival Weylu's, which built a GIANT pagoda building on a huge hill on Rte 1, and over-estimated the area's love for Asian art, cuisine, and culture when the pricetag on the meal is exorbitant.
Kowloon (bwong!) is a mishmash of Thai, Polynesian, Chinese and Pirates inside as theme. The lure of the South Pacific, the palm trees, the buddhas the very strange statuary and tiki god stylings. Aaaah, Kowloon (bwong!). Right up our alley. For as long as he's been here, Doug has never eaten there (I'd been 3 times in college... once on a date, and twice with my dorm floor as a group activity).
Right about now I'd better explain the (bwong!) additions here. The (bwong!) is a sound effect from their radio commercials in the 80s and 90s. Everytime the radio spot narrator would say Kowloon or Kowloon's, a gong would sound behind the voice... (bwong!) So I add the (bwong!) as a nod to Boston radio advertising history. I haven't heard those ads in YEARS... I would love it if they brought them back! I remember them distinctly from college. I lived with a girl in the summer of 1987 named Teri Magee who would always talk about Kowloon Bwong!, and we'd bwong! everything sometimes, if it was food related. "I'm going to the cafeteria (bwong!)." or "We're going to Capri Pizza (bwong!)." To us, it was amusing. To others, we were fucking mental. But that's college.
We got a big assed family meal, and Jessica wanted soup. That sounded good to us after being in the city cold for hours. So we all got soup.
Most chinese places serve you these little bowls of soup with crazy Chinese soup spoons, which I so dig... but here, we got a gallon of soup each.
I figured Geoff would rather have soup than dinner, so we now find ourselves with leftovers to feed an army.
Doug and I shared a "Volcano" drink, which came in a bowl that would have been perfect for our Get Freaky with the Tiki party on New Years. It was a very powerful Mai Tai drink... which mellowed my ass out right away, seeing as I'd left the house with half a cup of coffee in my system and naught more. Felt pretty good to be sitting there full of Chinese food, mai tai and polynesian atmosphere.
So we hung out for like 2 hours... digging the Kowloon (bwong) ambiance, watching Geoff eat soup, picking at the obscene amount of Moo Shi and Moo Goo Gai Pan that we had gotten... and our waiter kicked ass. All told it was a great day.
Tomorrow after church sometime we're heading up to the Hyde-A-Way for another Super Bowl bash. I always look forward to hanging with the Hyde clan, not only because they're cool and friendly, but because our kids COULD NOT POSSIBLY get along better so that makes me really happy. Geoff always does something slightly naughty while he is there (last time he took all their toothbrushes and HID them. Why? No one knows to this day, but their son Pete confessed that Geoff hid them in the dryer after we'd left). And the food is good, the woodstove is hot, the outside is great, the world is wonderful, and I'm a happy girl there. So this should be a blast. I have to remember to bring my super bowl square grid with me.... I may win something!
Alright. Go Patriots -- Not sure if they'll pull it off, but for the first time in a LONG time I actually believe. I knew they never would beat Green Bay and my phat honey Brett in 1997, and they stunk the joint up in 1986 against those Lame Bears (ugh. the most cocky and over rated team in franchise history and they have to win the super bowl...). So cross your fingers kids. It will hopefully be a good game.