I’m moving to the Back Bay! Saturday, Apr 26 2008 

In Paris, it’s the 8ème arrondissement.  In New York, it’s the Upper East Side.  In London, it’s Knightsbridge; in Miami, it’s South Beach; in Washington, D.C., it’s Georgetown.

In Boston, it’s the Back Bay — the most upscale and luxurious neighborhood in the city.

And I am moving there on September 1!

My sister and I have planned to live together for the ’08/’09 school year.  This is for two main reasons: first of all, we miss each other so much, even as often as we see each other!  Secondly, this is Sarah’s last year in Boston before moving to Los Angeles.  This is our last chance.

Also, as much as I LOVE my apartment and living in Davis Square, it’s time for me to live downtown.  It takes me about 15 minutes to get to Park Street from Davis, plus a 10-minute walk to the T in the first place, and while that isn’t very long in retrospect, it’s starting to bother me.  I want to be closer.

Sars is a film student at Emerson College, which is in the Theatre District.  Because of this, and because of all of her late nights working on films and projects, she needs to be downtown.  She is currently moving out of her Chinatown apartment just a few blocks away from school.

We were open to living in several different places.  Although the South End was my first choice (I will live there someday!), we were open to living in Beacon Hill, Bay Village, the North End, Fenway, the Longwood Medical Area and even as far as Central Square in Cambridge and Coolidge Corner in Brookline.  (ANYWHERE but Allston/Brighton.)

This place popped up on our radar.  We saw it the first day it went on the market, and when we saw what an amazing deal it was, we immediately pounced on it.

That being said, it’s small.

It’s a two-bed split: that means that there are two bedrooms and no living room.  When you walk in, there’s a hallway running from left to right.  There is a bedroom on the left side (with a bay window!) and a bedroom on the right side.  In the middle are a kitchen (tiny!  Not eat-in!) and a bathroom.

The apartment is in a brownstone near Berklee College of Music, technically in the Back Bay but right by Symphony and Fenway.  When you walk into the building, ours is the apartment immediately on the left, right next to the mailboxes!

And there are TONS of Berklee students there.  The guy living above us plays the drums.  Yikes.  He says he mainly plays at school, though.  It’s almost like dorm life.  Hopefully we’ll have some of the benefits of dorm life, like getting to meet new people all the time.

Yes, living in a place this small will be a challenge, but at least the bedrooms are large.  Besides, since we’re so close, we don’t mind hanging out in each other’s bedrooms, and we aren’t shy to having friends hang out there, either, like some people are.

Also, I will be getting rid of my car.  I’m very nervous about this, but I know it’s ultimately the right decision, considering gas prices, the environment and the deteriorating state of my car.  I won’t visit my parents and friends in Reading and Wakefield as often, but I can always take the orange line to Oak Grove, a 15-minute drive from my mom, or even take the commuter rail.

Plus, my dad loves coming into town whenever he can and has been doing it a LOT since Sarah and I moved here.  (I kind of have the feeling that he might relocate to a condo in Charlestown or Cambridge five years from now.)

And Whole Foods and Trader Joe’s are right in the neighborhood, along with a Shaw’s!  We’ll need to get one of those old lady carts.

I have to say that I have had a FANTASTIC living situation for the past 16 months.  My apartment is terrific, and I have wonderful roommates and landlords.  My roommates have become three of my closest friends, and considering some of the roommate experiences I’ve had in the past, that’s an incredible gift!  I will miss them dearly.

So…if you’re looking for a place to live, I have a great Davis Square apartment that I can offer you, starting September 1 (which is Labor Day).

DID I HAVE BRUNCH NEXT TO TOM BRADY AND GISELE?!?! Thursday, Apr 26 2007 

Okay. I swear I’ll get to writing about Bob Saget soon. But first:

My sister and I decided to get brunch in the South End this past Sunday, since that’s just about the only way we can afford to eat there. The menu at Masa looked awesome and awesomely cheap (everything under $10.00!), so we made that our destination.

We had a lovely meal (I had the Santa Fe Eggs Benedict, on a biscuit with avocado and salsa, and Sars had the “holy diabetes” fried Texas Toast stuffed with bananas, then we shared a cherry creme brulee), which was outside on a gorgeous day, and I kept looking at the couple sitting next to us. What struck me was that the guy looked just like Tom Brady, only skinnier, and he was sitting with a girl who was definitely skinny enough to be Gisele, but her hair looked darker and was pulled up in a knot. They were both wearing sunglasses.

“We’re sitting next to Tom Brady and Gisele,” I whispered to Sars. She looked, then laughed. I mean, it looked like them, but would they REALLY be here, in Boston (weren’t they just in Europe?), having brunch al fresco where anyone could see them?

Near the end of our meal, they got up to leave. I then saw that the girl was MUCH shorter than the guy. She was wearing flats, yeah. I thought that Gisele and Tom Brady were pretty close in height. And they weren’t wearing THAT nice clothes. She had nice sunglasses, but those were the only parts of their outfits that looked designer. And Tom was REALLY skinny — too skinny. Couldn’t possibly be him.

Sarah and I enjoyed the rest of our day, walking around in the South End, hanging out in a park, doing some Newbury Street shopping, watching the ducks in the Public Garden and shopping at DSW. I nearly forgot about the Tom and Gisele lookalike couple.

UNTIL TONIGHT.

I dropped by my dad’s tonight to pick up some of my summer clothes and have some dinner. I was chattering away, filling him in on everything that had happened in the last few days. “And we probably sat next to Tom Brady in Gisele when we had brunch in the South End,” I said dismissively.

“They were in the South End last week,” my dad replied equally as dismissively.

“WHAT?!” I gasped. “How do you know that?! I KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT CELEBRITIES!!”

“He’s always in the South End. He has an apartment in the Back Bay.”

“He lives in BOSTON?!?!”

“Yeah….” My dad gave me a look as if to say, “I thought you knew about this,” with a bit of “I can’t believe neither of my kids turned out to be a sports fan.”

“I don’t think it was him,” I said. “He was really skinny.”

“He IS pretty skinny,” my dad said.

I had always thought that he, being a football player, would be decently big.

“She was short, though,” I added. “Much shorter than him.”

“Yeah, she is,” he replied. “She’s what, 5’11”? He’s 6’6″ or so.”

OH. MY. GOD. (How does he know this stuff?)

“I can’t believe I was sitting RIGHT NEXT TO THEM and I didn’t take a picture!” I shrieked. “This is exactly why I always carry my camera around with me!!”

“Come on. Let them live!” he chided me.

Well, there you go.

What do you think? Was it them? Has Gisele’s hair been darker lately? And have we found the REAL source of my love of celebrity gossip?

Some Amusing Tidbits Monday, Apr 9 2007 

First of all, HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY to my lil big sis Sars, who turns 19 today! I lub you so much!

Easter was quite nice. My dad and I spent a few hours with the extended family, including my grandmother, aunt and uncle (my dad’s sister and her husband), my cousins and their kids, my second cousins. It was really nice.

I spent a lot of time talking with my cousin Ashley, who is fifteen. I first shared the pictures and videos of Vanilla Ice (which my cousins LOVED), and then I was telling her and my grandmother about Sonic and what an amazing place it is. Then my grandmother wanted me to tell Ashley about college and how great it is, so I could be a good influence and all that (hehehe), so I started talking about studying abroad and all my experiences in Florence — and Ashley’s eyes positively LIT UP. She kept asking me tons of questions, and both she and my grandmother laughed hysterically as I told the story about canyon-jumping in Switzerland and how the first jump was so frightening that it made the guys in our group gasp with fear, and the one guy who tried to jump ten times but chickened out all but the last time, and standing on the edge and saying, “Oh my God,” over and over as the rope PULLED me!

But the moment of the day came from my ten-year-old cousin Lauren. Lauren has the most gorgeous hair — golden brown, hanging to her waist, and the bottom of it is more crimpy than curly. Rather than curls, it hangs in giant zig-zags. It’s beautiful. Anyways, my aunt (her grandmother) goes, “Lauren, your hair is getting so long.”

Lauren goes, “When I take a shower, it gets stuck in my butt crack!”

We were on the floor.

My dad and I went home a bit later, he picked Sars up from school, and we had some delicious steaks and watched a few American Pie movies, the tail end of Napoleon Dinamita (en espanol), and some America’s Next Top Model (Dad left the family room for that). I later dropped Sars off at school and drove back home.

Strangely, this was the first time that my dad’s house — the house I have lived in my whole life — felt kind of like a foreign entity to me. I kind of felt as if I were trespassing. And I was genuinely glad to get back to my place in Somerville, even though I have absolutely no groceries. I guess this is morphing into my new home — and it didn’t hurt that Chris Daughtry’s “Home” was playing on the radio as I pulled in.

In other news, I’ve been checking out my student loan payments closely. So far I’ve been paying regularly (it deducts automatically) without looking closely, but I now realize how much has been interest — and it’s been frightening!

I pay $120.00 per month. Along with a refund from Fairfield and the startup fee, I have paid $642.90 total — $400.76 of which is interest. That’s 62.3%. However, my percentage of interest has been decreasing. I’ve been doing the regular payments since January. Here’s how it has added up:

January: 100% interest, 0% principal
February: 85.25% interest, 14.75% principal
March: 72.85% interest, 27.15% principal

Wow. I am doing math, and it is making sense.

It seems that my percentage is reduced 14.75% either per month or per payment. I would imagine that it’s per month, but I’ll find that out when I call them tomorrow. I really want to understand this more, and calling them will help me with that.

April: 62.1%
May: 52.94%
June: 45.13%
July: 38.48%
August: 32.8%
September: 27.96%
October: 23.84%
November: 20.32%
December: 17.33%
January 2008: 14.76%
February 2008: 12.59%
March 2008: 10.73%
April 2008: 9.15%
May 2008: 7.8%
June 2008: 6.65%
July 2008: 5.67%
August 2008: 4.83%
September 2008: 4.12%
October 2008: 3.51%
November 2008: 2.99%
December 2008: 2.55%

In case you’re wondering, the original total amount that I am paying back is $18,084.58.

Don’t think that I’m not happy to do this. I am very happy and proud to pay this amount for my college education, after all that my parents sacrificed so that I could go to a great college. I’m the first person in my family to attend a private college.

Even so, if anybody leaves a comment along the lines of, “Wow, I don’t have to pay anything,” that officially makes you an ASSHOLE!

Am I not doing enough? Saturday, Feb 24 2007 

I hate it when people make me feel guilty for not doing enough.

I just got off the phone with my mom, and we ended up having a big fight because she doesn’t think that I spend enough time with her.

Up until a few weeks ago, I was spending not one, but BOTH of my days off with her.

And now she says that I spend all my time with my dad.

I went out to dinner with him Thursday night, and Thursday night THREE WEEKS AGO.

That’s it.

And she starts crying and saying that she misses me and I never spend any time with her anymore. And that Sarah doesn’t even call her, ever. (For the record, Sarah keeps one of the busiest schedules I know — it’s not a mom thing; she has no time for anyone.) But that’s not my fault.

It’s just my schedule….first of all, it’s Oscar season, which I go crazy for every year, and each year I try to see all the nominated movies. I never see quite all of them, but I do see plenty. But since I took the schedule of working 2-10:30 PM, that has left me with no time to see movies, because movies never play outside that time (and if they do, it’ll be too late for me to catch the T home). Therefore, I’ve been consolidating my movie-viewing into only one per week or so, but I’ve been making it work.

And further, with working that schedule, I have no time for most normal people, except for those two days off per week. It has been hard enough dealing with just about every single one of my close friends moving away. Everyone has abandoned Boston — or is still in college (mostly with no plans to return to Boston). I’ve been reconnecting with friends I’ve known who are still in the area, but it’s hard consolidating all normal-people socializing time into two days a week. “I can do Thursday, or Saturday, but that is IT.”

And I’m trying. I’ve made some good friends in the past few months, mostly from work, and I’ve been hanging out with them and spending time with them (it’s good to know that some people have as crazy a schedule as you).

And in addition, I just moved to this new place, and it’s like starting over completely alone in a new city. I’m glad I didn’t have to provide any furnishings outside of my room, and I honestly have no desire to buy a dresser (which I need badly) because I’d rather spend the money on my trip around the world.

But here’s the thing — I feel like I’m doing well!

–I have a job that I’m doing well in, and I’m making more money than some of my friends.

–I’m paying my rent and my bills on time, including student loan bills, and nothing has ever been a problem.

–I have absolutely no credit card debt, and have yet to make a single late payment.

–I’ve been saving $340.00 every two weeks and putting towards my year around the world.

–I’m even getting fucking EXERCISE, living a 10-minute walk from the T!

–I’m healthy, I’m getting enough sleep, and I haven’t been having any problems.

–I’ve been spending time with friends, when I can, and with my family.

I think I’ve been doing good.

And for my mom to tell me that I’m not doing nearly enough, it makes me explode.

This past month, I’ve been doing a LOT of overtime, putting in 12-hour-plus days (including commute time) so that I can earn enough money to go to Texas and visit Beth for a few days. And enjoy one night at a “real” spring break destination, South Padre Island, which is something I have never experienced.

I am trying the best I can, and not only am I scraping by, it looks like I’m actually doing well!

And then I get hit with this….I feel like I’m a complete failure. Even though I know that my mom is acting on emotion and is saying things like, “Your sister and I are going to Florida next week and what are you going to do? Are you going to rely on your father to rescue you?”

FUCK. THAT.

My dad has not given me a DIME, save a few dinners out, and that’s the way I LIKE it — I don’t want anything from anyone. I am going to survive, AND thrive, through nobody’s help but my own. This is my life, and it’s entirely by my hands.

I’ve always been relieved since my parents got divorced (I had wanted them to for long beforehand), because it alleviated so much of the tension that was always present. But it didn’t completely end at that point. Once my mom moved out, I had to budget my time down to the hour, to make sure that I spent time with each of them was perfectly equal, so neither of them would have anything to complain about, and so I wouldn’t feel guilty in either direction.

It’s so hard to maintain that balance, even now.

I see my mom EXPONENTIALLY more often than my dad, because I know it means more to her, and for her to say that I spend more time with him than her — that is UNTRUE, UNACCEPTABLE, and UNFAIR, as I told her on the phone through tears.

I hate this.

But in all other areas, my life has been going really, really well. I just can’t wait to have $20,000.00 saved so I can take off and wander the world for a while. Fall 2009 can’t come soon enough….

Homer Sunday, Oct 29 2006 

It’s been a while, and it’s been a tough while at that. My grandfather, Homer, died last week. That fact alone should give you an idea how I’ve been.

I don’t want to go into deep detail or anything, but I do want to talk about it a little. Homer had a heart attack. He was found slumped over in his car. He was 82. He had diabetes and hadn’t been in the best health over the past few years. My mom pointed out that she should have known that he wasn’t doing well — he was confused lately, missed holidays, got lost on the way to her old house once.

I’m really upset. I miss him, and love him, and sometimes it hits me that I’m never going to see him ever again, and it makes me miserable. But in spite of that, I’ve accepted it. I’m at peace with it, and I was at peace from the beginning. He had a long life, and had an especially wonderful past few years with his wife, Maryann, whom he married four years ago. That makes it easier to deal with.

Homer was my grandmother’s companion since just before I was born. He was always my grandfather, and he was my only grandfather, since both of my parents’ fathers died when they were teenagers.

He once came to my Humanities class freshman year of high school to talk about his experiences being a black soldier during World War II and his experiences at war and at home afterward, and how he was treated. (Later, I overheard a few of my classmates saying, “I didn’t know Kate was black!” I decided to let them wonder.)

Wakes are always the worst part. Seeing the body and kneeling in front of it is awful. This is the time when everyone cries the most.

And I don’t understand the point of praying for someone’s soul. Unless you honestly believed that they might not have gotten into heaven. Whenever I hear that someone has died, I always think, “God, please help their family.” Now I was the family. I kneeled in front of the casket, tears falling down (I try my hardest not to cry in public like that, but it doesn’t get worse than that), and thought, “Goodbye. I love you. Watch over us. Protect us. Keep us safe, keep us healthy, keep us together for a long time.”

I’ve always felt that when people die, they become omniscient. If at any point I think about Noni — my grandmother who was with Homer — I just know that she hears me, she knows what I’m thinking, and she knows exactly what’s going on. It’s the same for everyone who’s dead. And yes, this means that they know every single thing you do.

But there’s a hole in the logic, or if not a hole, it’s just an unnerving reality. Once I was in the shower and thinking about people who are dead, and my thoughts turned to Mr. Swanson, one of my Humanities teachers from high school. In fact, he was the teacher who put together Homer’s visit. (Now, don’t get up on me about thinking about Mr. Swanson in the shower. Don’t try to tell me that you don’t do any random thinking in the shower!!) And I thought to myself — WAIT. IF HE KNOWS THAT I’M THINKING ABOUT HIM, HE PROBABLY SEES ME NAKED. IF HE KNOWS EVERYTHING, HE KNOWS WHAT I LOOK LIKE NAKED. EEK!!

Well, nowadays, I just relax and think to myself that if random people know what I look like naked, they’re probably peaceful and accepting about it.

I have to say that it was really nice to meet so much of Homer’s family, who came up from D.C. and Georgia. It’s too bad that you only see family at funerals or weddings. And I haven’t been to a lot of weddings.

The party after the funeral was nice. We were eating great food and talking and laughing. One of Homer’s nephew’s is the CEO of Cracker Barrell (seriously. And jokes were told, and he told me to watch what I said!). And Homer’s sister Ruby, who we stayed with in D.C. once, wore the most AMAZING outfit — a champagne-colored suit, tailored beautifully with a bell-shaped skirt, trimmed with fur, with a matching hat and gold shoes. And a cream-colored cape trimmed with more fur. I gushed over how much I loved it. Now THAT’S a funeral outfit!

And then my mom stood up and suggested we tell stories and anecdotes about Homer, since there hadn’t been eulogies at the Mass. She started by talking about how she always loved how Homer would take her hand for a dance with him, since she never got to have a dance with her own father. She started crying, and that set me off again. And of course, she then looked at me and said, “Kate?” Like I could continue after that! I deferred to Sarah. I forget what she said; I was trying to get under control. And then I spoke, telling the story that everyone loves. I couldn’t help crying through it. When I was four or so, or at least when Sarah was a baby, I was walking with Homer and Noni on the beach (and know that whenever it pertains to my childhood, “the beach” is Revere Beach) and I kept putting rocks in Homer’s pockets. I put in so many that his sweatpants were falling down. Noni tried telling me that that was enough, but I kept putting in more, and Homer just kept smiling and laughing and holding up his pants.

Next, Sandy gave such a moving eulogy, I think everyone in the room was crying. I’ve always known Sandy as a friend of my mom’s family, but I never knew that she was the one who introduced Homer and Noni. And then Maryann’s daughter Krystal started to speak. She said that Homer was the only father she had ever known, but then she began crying so hard she couldn’t finish. Maryann hugged her, and she said, “I just wish….” and we all knew what she meant. She’s pregnant with her first child, and she wishes that Homer had a chance to meet the baby, and vice versa.

What I know more than anything is that Homer and Noni are together — she helped him across the bridge, as my mom always says — and my auntie Jill said, “She probably yelled, ‘What took you so long?'” That’s what matters. And though I feel so bad for Maryann, I know she’ll be okay.

I didn’t think I could write about anything else until I wrote about Homer. I’m feeling better now.

Thanks especially to Erica and Lisa, and to Nadine and Curran and Max and Mike at work for being so nice to me and understanding this past week.

Something I Like Sunday, Sep 10 2006 

I like those Yahoo! Personals banners that read “Did you forget how fun it is to flirt?”

Flirting is great.

I really have nothing to say that’s worth an entry….I did check out an apartment for the first time on Friday after work. It was in a great location — Somerville, about 12 minutes from Davis Square, which would be PERFECT (great area, plus enough of a walk to get some decent exercise twice a day). But aside from the apartment’s absolutely gorgeous three-legged cat (I’m serious), it wasn’t what I was looking for.

I’ve been thinking about Florence — I really did love a lot about living with eight people. Of course, it became much more complicated than that because we were essentially each other’s primary social life (since we were so far from all the other Fairfield students). I’d love to live with a lot. And I saw an awesome ad on Craigslist for a huge house — but it seemed so good, they probably won’t get back to me.

My mom had a housewarming party yesterday — good fun. I played piano (just requests — did Let It Be, Yesterday, Piano Man (ugh) and So Far Away). Good food. And Sars came home for a few hours — I grabbed her and screamed and told her I wasn’t going to let go of her again. We’re going to have lunch on Friday, since her classes are over by 9:45 or so. Probably just South Station.

Kara and I went out to the Rattlesnake on Boylston St. the other night, as well as the Cactus Club for dinner. Both were fun, and the Rattlesnake has a really great deck on the roof, but we found that it was really the financial crowd — as in, “Are all the guys here gay or just accountants?” We did talk to a really cute guy for awhile, and he seeked US out (we were standing on the other side of a partition and he told us that he felt such distance between us and wanted to get closer). His name was Scott, he worked for a fishing company, he was blonde (and I don’t usually like blondes) and he was around thirty or so.

Unfortunately, talking to him meant talking to his unattractive, annoying friend as well. And he talked much more than Scott did.

One thing that I can’t stand is when people purposely exaggerate their Boston accents to make them sound cooler. It is OBVIOUS in a second when the fake accent kicks in. And this guy, the friend, he mentioned “Stahhh Trek.” Yeah. Awful. Most Boston accents have at least a hint of an essence of an R — I read about it on a site about regional linguistics. It’s like the R in “third” that is pronounced, only much fainter, and it’s extremely difficult for a non-native to master. (Which is why I’m not exactly looking forward to seeing anyone but Matt Damon and Mark Wahlberg in The Departed next month.) But it’s SO ANNOYING!!

We left before them and went our separate ways (and let me add that I can’t wait until the orange line starts running on weeknights again, rather than the scarybus from Haymarket). Now, I have a bit of a hobby — reading the “Missed Connections” board on Craigslist. A lot of them are entertaining! And this is probably the most self-centered thing I’ve ever said, but YOU NEVER KNOW if someone might post something about you. After all, I’ve been making steady eye contact with this guy at North Station every morning as we wait for the inbound orange line train….he’s kind of cute….

Anyways, I saw one that read, “Southie: Did Kara get home all right? Posting as you left in a hurry last night. Hope you made it home okay.” Now, I did tell him I worked in Southie but didn’t tell him where….I don’t know. Kara wasn’t falling-over drunk but she had had a few drinks — she was getting picked up. I had to drive home from Oak Grove, so I wasn’t drinking. And this was posted the morning after we were out.

It could be him.

At any rate, I hope it was the cute guy and not the creepy guy.

Update Wednesday, Jul 12 2006 

It’s been a while since I’ve posted about my everyday life. Here are a few tidbits:

–Sars and I went to the American Idol concert in Manchester — which I loved!! Elliott was so adorable — he announced that it was his first concert, EVER, and he sang Luther Vandross’s “Never Too Much” (which I looooooove!!!) but forgot tons of words, so he hopped all over the stage. Ace Young looked GOOOOOD….Sars thought he was “creepy.” And there were these middle-aged women who were absolutely wild for Taylor Hicks, dancing in a really awful way during his whole set.

–I just downloaded Nelly Furtado’s CD “Loose” — I really like it. Especially “Te Busque.” “Promiscuous” is awesome, of course. And “Maneater” could be my new anthem! Heh. 😀

–For anyone who is a Baby-Sitters Club fan, you MUST check out Amsterdam, Amsterdam! It’s a fanfiction, a genre for which I held absolute disdain until I read this. It is the funniest thing I have ever read. (Of course, you need to be familiar with the BSC in order to get all the funny parts.)

–I’m also reading The Nanny Diaries — I’m really overdosing on nonliterary books this summer! But it’s really good, in the same way that The Devil Wears Prada is good. I’m looking forward to the movie, which stars Scarlett Johanssen, and Alicia Keys (whom I love) has her first screen role in it, too! Although I’m wondering who she’ll play.

I’m exhausted. I ended up walking around Boston in 3-inch heels today, through Downtown Crossing and the Financial District to the waterfront, probably covering about three miles altogether with the walking I did with Lisa by the Common and at the interview in Cambridge today. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now my feet are KILLING me. (Dad: “Why don’t you just wear sneakers like everyone else and carry your boots?” Me: “Do you KNOW who you’re talking to?!) We also had a freak thunderstorm today that was crazy — my train stopped out of fear of being struck by lightning, and there were pools of water downtown and on Charles St. near the cemetery.

Also, I am most likely going to see the Red Sox game on Thursday with my dad!!! 😀 It’s impossible to get tickets anymore, so I’m thrilled. My Uncle Mike gets tickets, and he always goes with my dad, but he can’t go this time because….

Well, Uncle Mike retired last summer and has decided that he wants to be an actor. His first job was being an extra in “Gone, Baby, Gone,” which is filming in Boston and is Ben Affleck’s directorial debut. It’s by the author of Mystic River and it stars Morgan Freeman. It’s about a missing child and how it affects the area. (Interestingly, Uncle Mike plays a newspaper reporter. He was an editor at the Boston Herald before he retired.) Anyways, now he’s in the Screen Actors Guild, and he’s an extra in “Underdog,” which is filming in Rhode Island. And it’s filming during the game (which is against Oakland). I’m excited!!

That’s it for now! God, I have so many more pics from Europe to post….

Easter Tuesday, Apr 18 2006 

Easter break was really nice. Another really nice thing is that this is my 50th post in this blog. I’m really happy with blogger, and what I’m able to do with it. (I’m still a little sad that my diary-x is gone forever, though.)

Sars wasn’t there because she’s still in France. I also found out that Alice McKenney’s sister is on the trip is well, which is funny because Alice and I went on the trip together and hung out together a lot with Jane Hanley and Chris Proctor, and I can remember running in Gare St Lazare for the train to Rouen and grabbing the center table so we could all sit together, and all the inside jokes we had.

What’s especially great about Sars being in France is that I GET THE CAR UNTIL SHE COMES TO VISIT ON SATURDAY. It’s amazing having a car, and I love that it’s free to park. I can finally go out and buy wine anytime — I’m out, except for my nice bottle of Rosso di Montepulciano that I got in Florence. I was saving that for a nice dinner with the roommates, since Julia wanted some wine from Italy, but now it’s pointless since I pretty much only have one roommate.

I went out with Beth, Lisa and Janelle on Saturday night and we ended up going to Waltham for a dinner and staying for the first official Waltham Pub Crawl. Not that going to two bars constitutes a pub crawl, but we enjoyed ourselves! The Moody St. area is surprisingly nice. We also determined that you’re never too old to go to a porn shop and laugh at the life-sized rubber fist. Or the Venus Penis.

But the best part was Easter itself….it was great. I realized that it really took this long to feel completely comfortable about the holidays since my parents divorced. (Not that it was better when they were together. Holidays were universally awful.) But everyone was so happy and in their proper place this year, and I’ve never laughed so hard. It was great at my dad’s — Grammy and Uncle Mike were over, and we traded stories of all kinds, and I showed them the Chronicles of Narnia rap video. Uncle Mike keeps telling me that I need to go into languages, career-wise, since I like them and am good at them, but he also says I’m a great writer and should work in that.

And then I went to my mom’s, and her boyfriend Mark was there too, and we kept trading stories as well. I love how having two places for the holidays also means that you can have twice as much wine. Zinfandel at Dad’s, Pinot Grigio at Mom’s. Good times. ALSO, my mom’s boyfriend RAN OVER A RABBIT the NIGHT BEFORE EASTER. Who does that?!?! “YOU KILLED THE EASTER BUNNY, YOU BASTARD!”

I drove back with Kara (I found her neighborhood by MEMORY!), battling Red Sox/Boston Marathon traffic on Route 9, and we listened to my CD of “A Night of Fantasy,” the spring glee club concert from our freshman year. Now, THAT was a good concert. I think it was my favorite repetoire selection from any concert we’ve ever done, actually. The Polovetzian Dance, the Witches’ Chorus from Macbeth in glee club, and Over the Rainbow, Frostiana and In the Beginning of Creation in chambers — the music was AWESOME. With the exception of a certain soprano of the class of 2003’s shrill vibrato that you could hear AT ALL TIMES.

Overall, good times. I’m having fun.