There's been a big kerfuffle surrounding the Cambridge Prison in my neighborhood.
It's full of asbestos so they removed the government workers about 5 years ago. Only the prisoners remain in their own little 24th Floor Papillon.
Lately someone (city, state?) awarded the refurb to a company who plan to spunk $200 million on cladding the concrete monstrosity in glass.
The neighborhood is not happy. Glass reflects and presumably that reflection is going to (delete as necessary): Sap our power, burn bugs, kill trees, make hipsters wear sunglasses etc.
There's a meeting tomorrow and I guess we're going! I'm sure there'll be plenty of people with million dollar homes bleating about parking, noise and glare.
Which is worse than asbestos and prisoners screaming obscenities when you're trying to read a book and enjoy a glass of wine in your garden.
The plan is to turn the building into office space (because we don't have enough of that in East Cambridge), some apartments (because we don't have enough of those in East Cambridge) and probably a Whole Foods because we only have 8 of those in a 4 mile radius.
It will be nice to know I have another place to buy Quinoa while the asbestos riddled prisoners are shipped out to some sorry suburbia.
Last night, UK bound, I boarded the plane and settled into my Business Class seat, which in an hour would become a bed.
I was already woozy from a sleeping tablet, when I heard a commotion.
Snotty kid starts bitching to his dad that Business Class is not as good as First Class. What a little shit.
Chanting "Serenity Now", I began to calm back down when another brouhaha erupted.
A family had claimed the middle beds but they weren't assigned the seats. Escalation occurs. Flight Attendant, Pilot (British Guy - too polite), TSA Gate Attendant. With the threat of the police looming a compromise was reached.
The next morning the Flight Attendant apologized for the stand-off. The family were Arab and I sensed a bit of a racial undertone to the attendants rather two-faced sorry.
I was watching a show on Sunday set in a bakery and I had the nice idea of ordering some macaroons.
I found a bakery in New York who offer 2 day delivery. Which is ideal because macaroons do go off (as if I ever save them!).
I ordered a box to take to the UK for my parents and an extra box for Anne to console herself while I'm away.
I figured 2 day delivery would have them on my doorstep by Tuesday or at worst today.
I received this e-mail.
Dear Richard Taylor, Thank you for your order from Dana's Bakery! We wanted to let you know that your order (#012359) was shipped via FedEx, FedEx 2Day® on 2/19/2014. You can track your package at any time using the link below.
2 day delivery is from the day I order the product. Not from when you decide to get off your butt and cook up some product.
Anne will get 2 boxes on Friday! Lucky her. I hear they go off.
There's no greater sign of the milquetoast sanitation of life in the U.S. than of little kids handing out valentine gifts to all and asunder.
*, **, ***, OK I just thought of 3 more.
Driving into work this morning I passed a school. So the road was already busy with parental warriors in their 4x4 taking their walk-shy little Tarquin and Tamaras to first period.
A crossing guard (or lollipop lady as we correctly call them in the UK) decided to use her absolute power to stop the already busy traffic so a little girl and her mom could cross the road.
Half-way across, the girl whips out a present for the crossing guard and begins to have a conversation. Meanwhile the mom is merrily photographing the scene for an iPhoto event that I imagine will be titled "Why I'm teaching my kid to be a self-entitled c*nt".
I looked in my side mirror and counted 12 cars all stopped so that this little shit could chit-chat with the bitch in the fluorescent jacket.
* misogynist NFL players raising Breast Cancer awareness
** The syrup laden CBS coverage of The Masters
*** The phrase 'Support the Troops' as a catch-all for niceness ... sure I drunkenly crashed my truck in the ante-natal clinic causing all 6 floors to explode including the creche but hey I support the troops.
Anne and I are wrestling in mortal combat to see who can walk the furthest.
Nah. Scrap that. We've both got FitBit watches that track your steps, calories and other healthy nonsense. And each day it uploads your stats so you can see what a calorie burning superstar, or sloth like layabout you are.
I've set myself the goal of 250,000 steps in February, and as I approach the half way mark I'm a little bit under target, which is why if you walk past our house at night, you may see a weird man walking purposefully from room to room trying to reach his daily goal.
Of course we all predict within a year or so Apple will have an all-consuming product that will supersede the FitBit. It will track my dementia, daily rude thoughts, bone marrow strength and how often I say fuck each week ... all with a groovy cool interface.
As for this ugly eyesore. The watch rubs on my wrist and that's the product of 6 weeks. I'm switching to the other wrist for the next few days. I'm sure it will clear up by then!
I signed up for a trial of Beats Music, the new subscription music service that's cooler than you.
You're presented with a jiggly set of bouncing circles, each representing a genre of music, and once you've chosen what you love and what you hate, they create a profile of playlists suited just for you.
The first song I played from my newly profiled selection was a French dude just talking over a minimal beat.
I did not select the 'French Guy talking' circle.
Today they're recommending Carla Thomas, which is right up by street.
But they're also suggesting Janet Jackson slow jams.
Of course Anne picked the worst week to go away. No idea why her Grandmother 91 years ago thought it necessary to give birth during this week!!!
Finales of Biggest Loser (Biggest Guilty Pleasure) and Top Chef hit the screens this week and I had to avoid news all week so as not to inadvertently learn of the winners (or Losers).
It's not like we watch that many TV shows so to have 2 end in one week is unfortunate.
What I forgot to plan for is my new office, there are 2 TVs constantly playing in the lobby.
You have to walk past them to grab coffee, and considering my age, you then also have to walk past them 30 minutes later when you go pee.
And CNN ran a piece on the Biggest Loser. They thought she was anorexic. One down.
Wednesday night was Top Chef night. Being a cooking show, I figured it would be OK to read some sports news. My favorite cricket site has twitter feeds of cricketers and wouldn't you know a West Indian cricketer was cheering on Nina, one of the finalists of Top Chef.
So I've also avoided all cricket news for the last few days.
Finally watched Top Chef tonight. Ugh. Didn't want that douche to win.
Today is my mother-in-law's birthday. She's 91. And although I cannot offer a lot of experience interacting with nonagenarians my m-i-l is the best.
No patronizing talk of soup, the war and kids today, instead Anne's mom is one of the funniest, interesting women I know. No subject is off topic – race, politics, abortion, sexuality, Seinfeld and the Game Show Channel, her range is wide and above all,
Also. Today I worked in my Beverly office and kicked off a kooky idea to have a series of lunches with all of my colleagues. The first randomly selected 6 were funny, insightful and cool to hang out with for an hour that went by too quickly.
Tonight I had a Reiki session where Olga correctly guessed I was lost and lonely because Anne is in Ohio celebrating her Mom's B-day.
And finally I got home and managed to fit into a pair of cargo pants from Benetton. Excellente!
Apparently Facebook turns 10 tomorrow. Well done Facebook.
By the look of this photo for my 10th birthday I attended a pretentious photography course in Karachi.
I believe this was the year I received a pair of binoculars for my birthday. And I still own them.
The great thing about owning a pair of binoculars is that every few years you're in a cool location and you think to yourself, "If only I had a pair of binoculars." Then you're bummed out because they're in the bottom drawer of that unit where you keep board games, pads of paper you'll never use, and last year's Christmas Cards (except the kid photo ones, which go straight in the trash).
Looking thru' photos of my tenth year it is apparent I liked Adidas t-shirts, hiding my ears with long hair, holding my dog, and leaning against my dad's car. Beat that Facebook.