Some Stuff That Happened Yesterday, Not All of it Terribly Interesting
Sean had a hurty foot yesterday evening, a hurty foot and a giant bin of organic fruits and veggies thanks to Boston Organics. Because I felt badly for him, and because I kinda sorta had a craving for Bukowski's wicked good mac n' cheese, I agreed to swing by and pick him up after work. Well, Boston being Boston, and Murphy (of the Law, of course) being Murphy, I got stuck in gridlock so bad that a traffic summit was called by Boston officials. So, there was to be no Bukowski's mac n' cheese in my future. Sigh.
We went to Fridays, or T.G.I. Fridays, or whatever the fuck they're calling it these days, for some dinner. We ususally hate places like this, but who could blame us after seeing their 3 courses for 12.00! commercial roughly 6,000 times? We're pretty much programmed to go there, and really, who can argue with that kind of predestination?
My dinner was mediocre if not crappy in its essence, but wondrous in the simple fact that I did not have to prepare it myself. But then, after it was completed, I found out something so sad that it almost made me cry. Apparently, you are permitted to switch out the desserts. That's right. Instead of crappy cheesecake-flavored-polymers, I could have feasted on Godiva chocolate-flavored polymers. With vanilla ice cream-flavored polymers melting gently on top. Oh, the unjustness of the world! That I would find that out too late to take action!
Another thing that happened last night was that Sean ran into some people he hadn't seen in nearly a decade. In catching up with who was doing what, Sean of course uttered the name of his employer; which was, apparently, misheard. We know this because, after we had moved away, we heard one person stage-whisper to the other: "Did he say he works for Burger King?".
World, Sean does not work for Burger King. If you have ever misheard what I said when I told you where Sean works, please allow me to set the record straight once and for all and state that it is most assuredly NOT Burger King. If he did, he would have a much greater appreciation for their french fries, and not prefer the sodden ickiness of Wendy's nasty potato-logs.
I also wanted to mention that I did finally read the New York Times online article about "mommy blogs". I thought it tedious at best, especially since I regularly read many of the very blogs they profiled. My favorite part was when they played the "narcissism" card. I love it, really relish it, when asshats feel they are making astute observations by pointing out that blogs are "narcisscistic". I can't help wondering if these same people pick up biographies of Benjamin Franklin and then note: "The author of this book seemed to go on and on about Ben Franklin! I mean, come on! Are there not other people in the world?" Asshats? Exactly whose life would you have diarist-style bloggers write about? Yours? Do you order sashimi and then deem it undercooked?