100 (Some Odd) Days

September 20 marked 100 days since my dad died. I'm not sure where this tradition of marking 100 days came from, but I think the Asians got something figured out. As 100 days approached, I seemed to feel sadder for no reason at all. Nothing sparked the sadness, I just felt extra sad. Maybe it had to do with facing up to the reality of having to go back home, but my mom said she was felt the same way, a compounded sadness. Up until 100 days, I, on average, had been coping and functioning pretty well. But as day 100 approached, I felt more melancholy. Things reminded me more of him. I thought more about him. I was frozen with sadness more frequently through the day.

I believe in God, Jesus, heaven, judgment day, all of it. I also believe in ghosts and spirits, but I don't know, like, the mechanics of it all. I heard one theory that, based upon a reading of the bible, everyone just goes to a sort of nothing place until judgment day, and everyone who has lived and died since the start of time rises at the same time. That's a lot of people. But anyway, that's one theory. But there doesn't seem to be room for ghosts of dead relatives in that theory.

The strangest thing happened to me a few weeks after my dad died. I was so torn up because I hadn't talked to him in so long. And the last time I was home, he was not. He was in China. I tried to call him, but I just couldn't get through. I tried and tried and tried for 30 minutes. I knew he was sick, and I wanted to talk to him, but I just couldn't reach him. I remember thinking to myself, well, it's Dad. He'll be ok. But he wasn't. He died about 24 hours after he landed back in the US. And I hadn't spoken to him, much less seen him, in far too many months. Yes, that's right. Months.

Guilt gnawed at me. I was inconsolable. Then, one night, I had this dream. I dreamed that my dad came back for one last day, to say things he needed to say, and to sort out things that needed sorted. Whatever they were, they were not known to me in my dream. But in my dream, I ran up to him like a guilty child running up to confess that she did something bad, and blurted out, in Mandarin, that I was so sorry I didn't call him more. And he said, it's ok. And then I woke up sobbing. It was so real. And I think it was. I woke up that morning feeling more ok than I had been since I first heard the news.

I spent a week at home after my dad died. It was a hard week, but it was where I needed to be. While I was home, I took care of a lot of business. One of the things I had to do was cancel my dad's health insurance. My parents pay/paid a lot of money for insurance. And my dad used a lot of it. I told my mom that in order to cancel the insurance, I needed to see the insurance cards. She couldn't find them, and had no idea where they were. Then one morning, she showed up with them. She told me that she was laying in bed that morning and was talking to my father and asked him to show her where they were. As she was laying there, she heard something fall off of the tv. (Aside: this tv is straight out of 1978, and essentially is a huge wooden box with wheels. It stopped working long ago and my parents have used it as a shelf for at least 20 years.) She went over to inspect, and my dad's insurance cards had fallen off onto the floor. Just the insurance cards.

Maybe it was my dad. Maybe it was God comforting my mom. I don't know, but it was powerful.

I still get sad every now and then. I'm sad right now just writing about this and thinking about him. I'll be sad if I ever have a wedding day. I was really sad watching that episode of Friday Night Lights when Matt Saracen had to deal with his father dying in Iraq. But, the things I'm feeling and will feel are the same feelings millions of other people have felt all through history and for years to come. Maybe this should make me feel pathetic, but, really, it makes me feel...human.

Stopping and writing about my feelings just overwhelms me with emotion, and that's probably one of the reasons why I don't blog much anymore. That, and the fact that I'm at work like 14 hours a day and don't even come close to daring to post from work. But, I miss it, and I'm going to try to do it more.

My Father

My father is, by many standards, a complete jerk. He is distant, cold, sets incredibly high expectations, expects you to live by certain conservative "old world" values, yet excel in modern worldly ways. If you could get past all that, you would see that he is incredibly generous, damaged, hard working and entrepreneurial. He came to this country with little money and eventually made enough to buy a small plot of Manhattan real estate. At the time, that plot of real estate was in a high crime part of the city, but he had foresight, and now that land should provide for our family for a few generations, at least. He valued education, and worked hard so his kids could go to school. Yes, he is distant and cold, and yes, he shows his love through material things, but he worked damn hard to provide us with those material things. And when his kidney failed after years of diabetes and alcohol abuse, he didn't even think to ask his kids for a kidney, because he said it was his burden and his mistake and he didn't want to make us pay for it. He bore that burden, and even in illness, he seemed invincible. So it is with incredible sadness and surprise I report that he passed away yesterday.

I'm not quite sure what to do with myself. I found out late this evening and am getting on a train in the morning to go home. I know I made certain choices in my relationship with my father. I intentionally set distance between us because he had a way of driving me crazy in a completely irrational and unacceptable manner. I have to live with those choices, and that's ok. He was my father. I loved him. I will miss him.

2010, The First

I'm still here. I've mostly stopped blogging because I dare not do it from work, and when I'm not at work, I try damn hard not to be on the computer. I usually fail. But I'm home sick today, and I had to log in to turn on comment verification (No, I don't want your marijuana / blue cheese / web hosting, thank you) so I thought I'd pop in here and say hi.

A few quick updates? I'm still working, although every day I think about quitting, some co-workers and I are playing the lottery, the bf did indeed move in despite the bike incident, and it's been rough at times, but also nice at times. There's been trips to NC, to SF and LA and Napa and Sonoma, and several trips to NH. The bf is in school, now. I've taken up knitting and sewing, and our garden last year was a disaster. I've put on 20 pounds because working out just became so tiresome, although now I'm trying to get back in shape, which is hard, harder than it should be. I'm turning 33 in a month. Whoa.

I think I will try to blog more. I sort of miss it, and there's plenty to talk about. Hopefully I won't be violating any confidentialities that will get me disbarred. Although ...



A gratuitous shot from a peak in the White Mountains, circa October 2009.

These foreheads are just a wee larger than normal...

The Boston Globe (worst newspaper ever) website has a continuous link to "Bill Brett's Party Photos" - photos that good ole Bill has taken around town at social events large and small. Clicking through them, you'd think that Boston was full of white people who are direct descendants of the Pilgrims on the Mayflower and have bred closely with other such descendants. Like, their eyes are just a bit too close-set, and their foreheads are just a bit too large. Like, one more iteration, and they're going to have forked tongues.

See for yourself.

My Belated Birthday Present

As I mentioned in my last post, instead of jewelry or a sewing machine, the boy gave me a choice between a weekend in nyc or portland, me, and a homemade greenhouse. Since I've been feeling particularly homey (?), I chose the homemade greenhouse. Here he is making it:

Here it is completed, awaiting the grow lights and plants to move in.

Can't wait.

Also, the repair guy came, and it turns out that repairs to my washer / dryer combo will cost about $1165. A new machine is about $1250. Argh. I REALLY don't want to spend the money, but I REALLY enjoy having a washer / dryer in my condo.

Renovations

I'm working from home today, thus the blogging.

The Boy, for my birthday, is constructing me a mini-garden - essentially a homemade shelving unit with grow-lights, etc.  The herbs and veggies have all been purchased and are doing their best to survive while their home is being constructed.  It should be done today.  Here are some of the materials taking up space in my home.  

I think it's very lovely that the boy is doing this for my birthday.  Sure, my birthday was a month ago, and in the end, I had to pick my present, but still, very nice.  Of course, we are planning on him moving in with me in September, so also slightly self-serving, but let's try to keep this post upbeat. 

Second, I'm working from home today because I was waiting for the repair person to look at my Asko WCAM combo washer dryer that has been acting funny.  It's been emitting this awful burnt rubber smell, and when I googled it, one guy was like, oh yeah, mine caught on fire.  So I immediately stopped using it, and called the repair person.  He looked in it today and found this in the drying vent: 

I couldn't get the camera to focus on the lint.  But anyways, the lint is charred, and repairdude suspects that there's A LOT more in there.  Also, the circuit board was blown out.  This repair is probably going to cost a lot, as one of the three parts needed alone is $200.  I'd rather repair it than buy a new one, though, cuz this one would probably just go in the dump or something.  Also, I'm probably lucky that nothing caught on fire.  Yeesh. 

That is all.  

Things That Make You Go Blog

The bf's family is really into cycling, and this past weekend, we headed down to NY to do the annual 5-borough tour.  Basically, 30,000 and their bikes descend upon the city, and highways and streets are shut down for a 42-mile bike ride.  Last year was super fun, but super super hot as it was 80+ degrees and sunny.  Yesterday, it was 50-something degrees and rainy.  Also, the bf and I invited two friends from Boston, and a friend of mine from my B-maw days came up for a mini-reunion and bike ride. 

Things were going great for about 30 miles.  We were all happy, the rain wasn't that bad, and the cycling was keeping us warm.  We didn't have any flats, and although some were slower than others, we were staying more or less together.  

Around mile 30, the rain picked up, and we rode on a stretch of highway with no protection from trees or buildings. We just plugged along, getting drenched, literally, as puddles accumulated in our shoes, and rainwater dripped down our (my?) ass cracks.  The bf's mom and uncle went ahead; but the bf and I would stop and keep track of our/my friends.  

The very end of the ride is over a bridge - a sort of long bridge into SI that is a bit of an uphill trek.  My friends and bf and I regrouped right before the bridge and then went over, I think with the unspoken understanding that we would meet at the end on the other side of the bridge, as we had every other time.  The bf's mom and uncle finished five minutes before us, my friend from md finished five minutes after us, and we all managed to find each other with our cell phones and found refuge under the tent. 

Now at this point, I was already very very very cold, and my low blood sugar and fatigue and, as it turns out, mild hypothermia, were making me very upset.  And all I could think about towards the end of the ride was how cold I was, and how, yes, I was prepared for the weather by packing a rain jacket, but how the bf's mom had taken that rain jacket at the start of the ride and never offered to return it and had disappeared by the time the rain really picked up.   And I was pretty sure that if I had that rain jacket, I would be warmer, b/c it would both keep me dryer and keep the wind off of me. 

And as we were standing around at the end of the ride waiting for our last two friends, did she ever offer to give me the jacket back, even though I was shivering my ass off?  Nope.  And did I have the cajones to ask for it back?  No, of course not.  Her hypothermia was already worse than mine as her lips were definitely without color and turning a caribbean shade of blue. 

After several minutes, we were sure our friends had finished and should be reuniting with us so we could get out of the rain.  However, when I finally reached them on the phone, they had stopped for a hamburger and were wandering around the festival.  I immediately told them to find us, so we could leave.  they finally meandered over to us, and we headed towards the exit.  

As we were leaving, I told the bf I couldn't feel my feet.  And I was afraid of losing my toes, not being able to find the word for it, frostbite.  I asked if it was possible to lose one's toes if it wasn't freezing out, and instead of answering me, or giving me any sympathy, he says, yeah, I can't feel my hand.  Neither could I, but I was trying to keep it light, and allay some fears, as I knew we were all fucking freezing and soaking wet.  

Somehow, as we were leaving the exit, the stragglers lost track of us and fell behind, and when they finally made it out of the crowded exit (30,000 wet bikers, trying to exit through an 8-foot gap in the fence) they followed the masses and went left instead of right as we all had.  A few phone calls later, and they still couldn't find us.  We had now been standing in the rain about 15 minutes.  And the bf, his mom and uncle sought shelter under a highway overpass.  Leaving me and my friend in the rain to wait for OUR friends.  OUR friends, who the bf is so effing intent on inviting everywhere because "everything is more fun with more people."  (And yes, sometimes I want to yell, "then go out and make some effing friends.") 

When he called them one last time and wouldn't answer, he and his relations all wanted to leave them.  HELLO?  IN STATEN ISLAND?  NONE OF US ARE FUCKING FROM THERE!  I gave them one last call, seeing that they had called literally the moment before and the effing bf missed it b/c he had so callously put the phone back into his backpack, from whence all sounds could not escape.  Finally getting a hold of each other, I told them where to go and then to call again when they got to the place we were standing, b/c we obviously could not wait 10 minutes for them to bike back, b/c we would have all died of hypothermia from standing around. 

Let me pontificate here for a moment.  I realize that hypothermia is a worse condition than being lost.  No one would have died in nyc from being lost.  My friends are not dumb.  But then again, the instinct to "just leave them" is disturbing.  There are a thousand ways to solve the situation, but "just leaving them" certainly should not have been one of them.  Tell me if I'm wrong. 

When we biked the last 10 minutes to the meeting point, the bf's mom finally asked me if I was cold.  I looked at her, did my best not to attack her, and said yes.  She offered me my rain jacket back, but at that point, I just said, keep it...while fighting the animal instinct to rip her head off and crawl into her carcass.  Seriously.  As the hypothermia got worse and worse, I could see myself getting angrier and more ... animal.  Losing all sense of reason, except the one reason that I knew I was losing my sense of reason. 

And the bf?  I realized that he is even MORE of a momma's boy than I had ever thought.  He stood there, rubbing his mom, trying to warm her up.  Later, he said, yeah, i was really worried for my mom.  And me.  And I was like, umm, hello?  He was like, you were cold?  I'm like, didn't I tell you my feet were numb?  He said, oh, you didn't tell me that until later.  Yeah, but certainly I told you before you told me about your hand.*  

*(But no, whenever I say something, he has to counter with his own ill, forgetting mine.  It's like, he doesn't think to say it until I do, but really, at that moment, why can't it just be about me?  I mean, it wasn't like I didn't ask him about his hand and not care about his hand, but sometimes, when I say something, I wish he would just focus on what I was saying, and not try to steal the spotlight, b/c obviously, whatever he was thinking or feeling wasn't significant enough to mention until I mention it first.  God, it's so annoying. 

Finally, help arrived, with dry towels, and the bf's mom crawled into the car.  The stragglers found us, all was fine.  We had pizza.  

The night before the ride, HOWEVER, b/c there's always a however, we all got sauced.  Sangria, Celtics game, beer.  And at one point, the bf's mom was like, I'm sleeping in this bed, and I don't care about anyone else.  I was so mad.  I couldn't believe it.  I mean, sure, this woman had always been nice to me, but then her true colors come out when people who her son isn't shtupping come around?  It wasn't even her house!  No one was ASKING her for anything.  And if she's so good at taking care of herself, how come a fucking grown woman with three grown kids who's A NURSE didn't know that if she was getting cold, maybe she should stop standing still and do some fucking jumping jacks?  Or did she like it when her son and the universe stopped to take care of her? And the next time she tells me she can't wait for grandkids, I'm going to ... well, I need some help on this one.  Submissive Asian girl over here would probably bow her head and open up her legs and hand someone a turkey baster. 

In summary, what's bothering me is that I'm potentially getting into a family that is, at its core and in emergencies, incredibly selfish and self-preservationist.  Why was it ME who had to stand between the family and the friends, keeping facts (like the hamburger) from the family and the one who had to navigate a foreign island so the friends wouldn't be stranded by the family?  The bf, too, is selfish, self-preservationist, and a freaking momma's boy.  VOMIT.  

I, by no means, was perfect.  I was snappy, wanted to kill people, and break up with people, etc.  But I like to think my girl scout training kicked in and helped me be effing proactive about the situation AND manage the situation without anyone dying or being stranded.  PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE tell me if I'm wrong.  Because I'm having serious doubts here, and the bf is supposed to be moving in this summer. 

Echinacea

It's the oddest thing, really.  Every time I take echinacea, I get sick.  I have this bottle of echinacea that is several years old.  I know, not the best.  But I bought it back before law school when I was teaching taekwondo and living with my parents.  And I started taking it back then on the advice of a co-worker.  See, working with kids, kids who weren't mine, made me sick all the time.  They showed up from various corners of the community covered in snot, both theirs and their classmates, and then rubbed that snot all over themselves and over me.  And teaching taekwondo to kids is a very hands-on job.  Kids just aren't going to figure out how to do a proper roundhouse kick without hands on legs showing them how to do it.  And giving a little support.  And the kids never came in with their belts tied properly, so you had to stand in front of them and tie it.  And then, of course, kids would sneeze in your face. 

So, the echinacea, b/c I was told, guaranteed, that it would work.  And yet, whenever I took it, I got sick.  So I stopped taking it.  It was hard to be sure if the echinacea was making me sick, or if I was just getting sick because of all the germs, but I stopped taking it, just to be safe. 

And here I am, four, five years later, with that same bottle of echinacea.  Not one to throw things out, I decided to finish the bottle.  And yet, yesterday, the day after I took the echinacea, I was sick.  Sick as a dog with an unidentifiable illness.  Part cold, part food-poisoning.  But all sick. 

I threw that fucking bottle of echinacea in the trash.  And may I never use that word on this blog again because i've used it like 1000 times already.  Damn that stuff to hell. 

Something New

I, like many Americans, have have countless hopes and wishes and wants that I want to see accomplished during Obama's presidency.  But there is nothing more I want than to see Native Americans given their legal rights and recognition that they have been denied since this nation was formed.  You might think that their abuse ended after we took their land, and made them march to their deaths across the South, but to this day, they are being denied their legal rights, promises made in signed treaties by leaders of this country.  It is appalling.  Here is an article that I liked. 

I Am Sick

And there you have it.  Laid up on my couch with the chills and aches.  I've also got some nasty gas, and am worried that I have a stomach thing again.  Ugh, that was the worst.  

Economic Reality

During the last economic downturn, the one after 9/11, I was in grad school.  

During the economic downturn before that, the dot-com burst, I was just leaving college and entering what essentially was a government position, in research.  It paid crap. 

During the recession of the 80s, I was a kid, and I cared only about football cards, soda, stickers, maybe the cute boys in my class, and my banana-seat bicycle with one pedal.  Food showed up on the table.  My parents went to work everyday.  It was fine.  Sure, now I know that we moved every year probably because my parents couldn't make rent payments, and their business was barely making money. 

During this economic downturn, I'm worrying about getting laid off...and more significantly, watching my friends get laid off. 

Yup, it happened this week.  Although we all saw it coming, it was, in the end, rather sudden.  My friends are both optimistic, worried, relieved, practical, realistic, and sad.  The ones who are left behind feel betrayed and depressed.  We were rather close.  And we all chose this place because, well, for different reasons, but for a lot of us, we passed up more prestige to be part of this family.  Sure, in the end, it's a law firm and no one is safe, but it did feel like a family, that they cared, that they'd do the best to bring us to our potential and either have us make partner or send us out into the world to continue growing the network of firm alumni. 

Yeah, I guess I drank the kool-aid.  And now it's worn off.  Or they've given us the red pill.  Or insert other slightly inaccurate pop culture reference here. 

Like I said, we all saw this coming, and given the state of the economy, it's not that surprising.  But it could have been done with more tact, more warning, more respect. 

And in the end I can only say so much for my friends and colleagues who were laid off.  I can say this about me.  I feel like a fraud.  I feel like if anyone should have been laid off, it should have been me.  I have made so many mistakes and made so many bad impressions.  And I have parents whom I can fall back on.  I mean, they own a bar.  People definitely drink through recessions.  I feel like if I could, I would step up and swap places with someone.  I feel bad.  I feel guilty for exhibiting these bad feelings because I feel like my friends have it so much worse.  I have survivor's guilt. 

Can't I go back to the time when I just worried whether my parents would be able to buy me shiny, pointy new crayons?! 

A Few NYE Pics

My place before.

 

Another view. 

A picture of the Boy and Me. 

The morning after - not so happy. 

All our hot air frozen on the window. 

2009 Resolutions

So cliched, but I gotta document them somewhere. 

1. Go to the gym more often, at least as much as I did before Thanksgiving.  I've put on poundage, and it's sad, because about a year ago, I was like a size and a half smaller. :(  Think I'm going to take up yoga in addition to spinning. 

2. Have more intimate, deep and meaningful conversations with friends.  I seem to end up in a lot of short, easily-distractable conversations with friends at bars.  There are people I've known for over a year and don't even know what they do.  Lame!  

3. Be nicer to the boy.  

4. Be happier at work. 

5. Spend less, save more. 

I Hate Winter

I've decided that I hate winter.  Sure, I'm getting crotchety in my old age, but what good is there in winter?  Christmas is but one day, and it breeds greed and materialism.  New Year's is nothing but a drunken mess.  Those two days aside, winter is nothing but three to six months of long drawn out misery.  It's cold, being outside is miserable and causes physical pain.  Heating costs skyrocket.  Said heating causes dehydration, causing skin to crack and bleed.  People die under such conditions. 

To make matters worse, people, especially those nut jobs in New Hampshire, like to go out in this weather and engage in activities categorized as "winter sports."  Not just skiing and/or snowboarding, but snowshoeing, winter camping, ice fishing, ice skating, anything that starts with ice...  ARGH!  I hate winter.  Bah. 

Black Friday

Despite being afraid of losing my job and this economic crisis that I am finally old enough and mortgaged enough to understand, and despite the insanity going on in Mumbai, I went shopping today, on the blackest Friday of the year. Here are my purchases:

Western Digital 320 GB External Hard Drive; might have to return it for one I can network, if this doesn't work that way.

Black & Decker Convection Oven from Kohl's. It was discounted even further because it was an early-bird special. Thankfully, Kohls extended their specials until 3pm!

Targus laptop fan. $9.99 from Staples. Staples had great deals. It was amazing.

I can't find a picture, but Target was selling Christmas tree ornaments - balls that were filled with candy. I got two of the tootsie roll ones for the boy's mom because she loves them. They were $1 each and we gave them to her today.

I bought a few more things but nothing important. Honestly, the sales weren't that great, and the stores weren't that crowded. Except that one Wal-Mart in Long Island, apparently, where people were so crazed they broke down doors and crushed and killed an employee. A temp employee, nonetheless, contracted to work through a temp agency, so Wal-Mart probably isn't even liable for worker's comp. That was the least shocking part of the whole story. Alas.

Not that Bad, Really.

If you know me at all - and let's face it, if you're reading this, you know me - but if you know me at all, you probably know that I have issues with my family. I don't get along with them, find them to be racist and closed-minded, insane, and not in a good way, and overbearing and the mere thought of them gives me heartburn.

You will also probably know that my romantic life is something they know very little about. Then again, I have had very little romantic life until now. I mean, I'm not exactly going to tell my parents about random hookups and what not.

Even if you don't know me, if you are reading this, you will probably understand that having dinner with the fam and with the boy tonight, all together, in one room, at the same restaurant, at the same table, sitting together, was kind of a big deal. BIG HUGE F'ING DEAL.

But look. I'm here blogging about it and haven't used any cuss words directed at anyone in particular.

It really wasn't that bad. I would even venture to say it was pretty good and even as we were parting ways, I pictured in my head doing it again. A second date, if you will.

The boy found the family to be pleasant. Granted, he hardly understood half the conversation because try as we might, it was mostly in Chinese. But there's something about him meeting my family and approving that makes me think, ok, fine, they're not that bad. They are good intentioned. They are generous. They were welcoming and it was almost as if the boy had to approve of them more than they had to approve of him. They were all this, on top of the racist, closed-minded, insanity. But it wasn't that bad.

A Sad, Sad Day

This is a picture from the LA Times of people cheering Prop 8 results. The picture does not indicate which results they were cheering, but given the results, I'm going to guess that these people are closed-minded, bigoted, fear- and hate-mongering, hypocritical, awful people who purport to believe in the same God as I, but are horribly, horribly wrong about that God.

My BFF and his HUSBAND are no longer married. Overnight. Like that. Taken away by these people who have no right to do such things. Taken away by miserable people whose own lives are probably unhappy so they must rain misery down on others.

If it were a certain time and if I were a certain type of person, i.e. more like them, I'd hunt these people down and kill them. That's how awful this is. I'd be happy with the ability to slap a few Californians upside the head right now. Unbelievable.

But GOBAMA.

Halloween

Three hundred sixty four more days until next Halloween, and the next time I have to find every reason not to go out. I am officially old, but not old enough where I dress up kids and take them trick-or-treating at 2 in the afternoon. I just hate this holiday. Without kids, it just seems like it's an excuse to get dressed up like tramps and get wasted. Slutty pirate, slutty nurse, slutty soldier. Really? And I can't deal with the hangovers anymore, and the only purpose for adults in my situation is to go out and get wasted. (And let's face it, I can get on a high horse, but not a horse so high that I won't get wasted right along with everyone else.)

Jon & Kate Plus 8

When I first happened to watch this show a few years ago, I quickly turned it off. Kate was a bitch, and the kids were so young at the time that it wasn't that interesting to watch babies getting fed and changed and taking naps. I happened to catch the show again a few months ago and the sextuplets are now about 4 years old and they have personalities and they talk. And they are downright ADORABLE. Kate, however, is still a bitch. And I think she treats her husband awfully, but I guess it works for them, and he snaps back, too.

So I started getting obsessed a little with the show and did a google search and came across this blog, written by Aunt Jodi's sister. Yes, I had thought it was weird that Aunt Jodi, who is Kate's sister-in-law, wasn't around anymore. Turns out, the production company offered to pay Aunt Jodi some money, but Kate didn't allow them, stating that no one could profit off her kids. The hitch is that Kate didn't allow anyone to tell Aunt Jodi about this. A few seasons later, the production company approached Aunt Jodi directly and offered money. She then found out about the prior offer, and again Kate asserted that no one could profit off her kids (except herself and Jon). And so Jodi's off the show.

I have decided to boycott the show. First of all, have I made it clear? Kate is a bitch and she's difficult to watch. I feel bad for the kids. She yells at them FOR BEING KIDS. Hey, Kate, kids are meant to get dirty. They will never again in their lives have so much fun and care so little about getting dirty, even if you weren't in their lives. Second, what a hypocrite!! I mean, all of a sudden Jon and Kate are rolling in money, getting plastic surgery and other cosmetic procedures done, taking vacations to Hawaii and the Outer Banks. Umm, where is this money coming from? Why not spread the wealth a little bit, spread the blessing. But no. Third, Kate's a bitch and she's hard to watch. She has a personal chef and people who do her laundry, and she bitches and moans about all the work. Fourth, it's a little scary. How do the cameras not affect the kids? Maddie, I'm sorry, she's a child, but she's spoiled and snarky and totally acts up for the cameras. Eew. Also, have I mentioned, Kate's a real bitch. And Jon ain't no wonder either.

I Think About You in the Summertime, and All the Good Times We Had, Baby

OK, first of all, those are lyrics from the first single of the new NKOTB album, Summertime. Suck it up. (Whoo, concert on Sept. 26!!)

Anyway, this fall weather is getting me sentimental for the summer. Not the hot, sticky, sweat-dripping-down-your-legs, suffocating-from-scent-of-hot-urine-in-the-subway-stations summer. But the it's-ok-to-skedaddle-from-work-at-2-to-beat-the-traffic-to-the-Cape summer. Not that I really went to the Cape that often. Just once. But I did go to Bar Harbor, West Palm Beach, the Outer Banks, the White Mountains of New Hampshire, NYC, and Montana. Not to mention a few trips down to Jersey, and a 100-mile bike ride across the Garden State. I think that covers it.

So I guess even though I'm no longer basking in the post-bar exam glow (and nightmares) by skedaddling myself all around the globe, I've had a pretty damn good summer.

I think it's time to hunker down this fall, stay in town, and drink lots of beer and eat lots of wings so that I can get some extra padding to keep me warm through the long New England winter.

Oh, wait, no. There's this thing called "winter camping" I'm supposed to discover. What the hell? How do you build a fire and roast s'mores in 14-feet of snow?!?!!