Laughing All The Way

Friday, June 03, 2005

And this is dedicated to the one I love

I have contemplated dedicating this here blog. I am aware that every funny thing I say or do, or everything that I do or say and I think is funny, is as a direct result of those around me who encourage me to act a fool.

While I would never say this to her, my Mom is one of the reasons why I am the way I am. I mean, if you have such a shining example of absolutely crazy, and I mean way-fucking nuts, then you really have a golden standard against which to measure yourself. By shining example of absolutely crazy I mean my Mom and by you and yourself I mean me and myself. It wasn’t the worst upbringing; it was just different.
Of course Mom didn’t become Mom without Grams. God help anyone who speaks poorly about Grams (or as I like to call her GramCrackers cause she crazy too but it’s said with all the love and affection that one can give to a crazy Grams) because I will cut you, but I think we can all admit that Mom got her crazy from Grams. They would never agree with that because they have different types of crazy that they don’t see the similarities, but trust me, it’s there.

Then there is the second tier of people: my sister Ri, and my girls, Melli, Bonnie, Carrie, and Fifi. All of them encourage and embolden me to be me. They laugh when I am witty and sarcastic. Oh, and they support me in my desire to drink all the vodka. They are all crazy but in a very supportive and loving way. They know that I will always sober up and apologize for being drunk and disorderly and promise to stop drunk shopping (but I always get such good deals especially at the Banana Republic in Faneuil Hall).

It is for these people that I write. It is because of them that I can write.

Thursday, June 02, 2005

Rant

Why even bother trying to explain to me that because I am registered to vote in one town over, the City of Boston is completely unable to do one god damn thing for me.

Please stop using that annoying voice that is reserved for immigrants or people who look like they might be immigrants-I love it when I am all tanned up and people talk real slow like. Just say: “Look lady, I don’t care what you want or need, we can’t help you.” Let’s be honest, it wouldn’t be the first time this week that I heard those words.

At least then I could respect you and your bad attitude. I understand the words that are coming out of your mouth, but I just don’t care. That’s it, I am no longer paying taxes.

And then…

Welcome and salutations. This is the first entry of the rest of my life. I do have a flair for the dramatic.

So my blog is really just going to be all about me, me, me, a favored subject of mine. I figure it will include the tales of drunken disorderly behavior, THE BOY (of the moment), my crazy ass family, and hypothetical instances of work (I like my job enough to not want to get fired- lesson learned from others). Must go and begin doing what it is that I do for money.