If You've Never Been to Fenway: the peeps

The Fans Make It All Worth While

There are some choice characters at Fenway on game day. Check out these fans.

This is Myrtle (R) and Karen (we all know what Karen's like). They are season ticket holders and have been coming to Fenway since 1957.
Just kidding. I have know idea what their names are or if they go to Fenway often. I just thought they both had some serious style.

This guy had a sign next to him. You can't see it but it says, "I will be humiliated at the end of this game due to my team being slaughtered. Also, feel free to beat the crap out of me." BTW, Red Sox 13, Birds a lowly, sad 5. And they lost the next night, too.

If I am ever old enough to get married, I really do want someone to do this cheesy-assed thing for me. I love baseball and I love being a ham. This sort of thing would combine the two quite well. I hope she said yes.

Apparently, it was this woman's birthday. As much of a hammy goofball as I am, I would never ever be caught dead looking like this. Though, she seems really happy (drunk?), so who am I to criticize.

Yesterday the Fenway fan camera captured three young teenage girls sitting in the Dunkin Dugout flipping their hair back and forth, applying lipgloss and generally preening. Meanwhile, there was a major league baseball game going on in front of them. But, who cares about that? I mean, haircare is essential to picking up the pervy drunk frat boys in the rows in front of them. Anyway, here is another example of young'uns not doing so well with the paying attention to the game. Hey, kid, the game's that way.

And now for the ultimate fan. This took some serious blood (literally) and probably some sweat and tears, so I was impressed and I'm sure lots of other people are, too. F*ck yeah, man.

And I try not to curse on this blog, but this definitely deserves a respectful f-bomb.


Next Fenway entry: a history lesson, also an explanation why if Mass Million numbers ever came out 1 4 8 9 27 42, it would be split 17,000 ways.

Epistles to Ikea, the reprise

Dear Ikea,

I wanted to write about the second- and third-to-last times I came to visit. Both times were with Rene.

The first one was during February vacation. I was cleaning my room and trying to figure out how you could help me with my small living space issues while watching General Hospital. (Mais bien sur!) GH ended and on came Oprah who did that day's show with Nate, which was, rather serendipitously, about living in small spaces featuring products from---YOU! (Mais bien sur!)

It gave me some good ideas, particularly about "going up" for storage space--using veritcal space rather than horizontal space. Also, finding multi-functional pieces to use; like Transformers, only instead of cars to robots, it's table to desk.

I took some before and after shots. Just click to enlarge the photos.

Here's my bureau:



Here's one of my walls:



Here's my desk:



Those are shoe wracks that I used instead as mini-shelves in order to "build up" for storage options. The magazine holders are 2 for $.39 and I use them for everything.

So, all that is left is the second to last time I visited you. I will write about that day very soon.

Thanks again, Ikea, for your brilliance.

Sincerely,
Bridge

If you've never been to Fenway: part 2, before the game

Preamble side note: My goodness, I have slacked this week. And I didn't even have a full week to work. Sorry. As the next packet is due soon, I will have plenty of opportunities to sit at the laptop and jog my creative juices via blogging. Regardless, I am still up right now because of the Sox game starting late, so here is the next entry, finally.

Inside Fenway: pre-game photos
This is what it looks like under the stands. Notice the hustle and bustle. These signs are new but made to look old. I like them despite their inauthenticity. From the new Jordan's consession stand area behind 3rd base, you can look out on to Lansdowne Street. If you're ever confused about where to go, just read these helpful seat signs, which make complete and total sense. After meandering through the frantic rush and purchasing Sams for 725 each (seriously!), we finally made out way to our seats. This is the first glimpse of the paHk.
Then we got to our seats and looked out on the field. Take a look at these glorious views. Is there anything more magical than Fenway?
Don and Jerry were just raving about the crew the other night, so here's my tribute to them. Thanks for getting the field ready, grounds-crewmen. After the Dana Hall School Chamber Singers performed the anthem, the game began.

Stay tuned for the next Fenway entry, dedicated to some choice fans in the crowd.

Favorite commercial

My favorite horrible commercial often airs on MSNBC, which I watch sometimes because of Countdown. I have always like Keith Olberman.

It's for a hearing amplifier called "Listen Up." In the commercial, you see a lady in a pew "use it to hear better at church." Then you see a different lady checking her mail and the voice-over says, "Or listen to what the neighbors are saying."

Awesome.Don't take my word for it. View it yourself:
http://www.buylistenup.com/?cid=296744

If you've never been to Fenway: part 1-outside the park

So, I tried to take pictures of Fenway for someone who has never been there. If you've been there a million times, I think you take for granted all the nooks and crannies virgin eyes may see. I tried to see things like a tourist would, instead of a girl who can only remember the years she didn't go to Fenway ('98, '05) So, without further ado, here is my pictorial blog of Fenway. Click on any of the images to make them bigger:

This is what you see walking towards the park.

I went with my mom and dad and JenniferFo (2bMac), and Dad's not into walking far these days, so Mom dropped us off and found a spot a few blocks over.

Anyway, after traveling down Boylston for a little, you finally see the street sign for Yawkey Way.

Look how sparse this street is. One guy to the right, one person walking with shopping bags down the street a little. The plain old Boston heavy car traffic.

When you finally turn right onto Yawkey Way--it's a whole new ballgame (oh yeah, the Pun Queen rules). You've entered a block party, featuring lots of Sox merchandise and lots of sausage and peppers. (Honestly, I've been a vegetarian since I was 13 but those sausage and peppers grilling always smell so good. I do refrain, though. I do.)
After Dad finished wolfing down his sub, we were ready to enter.

Just before you enter, you see all the banner years, including good ol' 2004.

Ah, 2004. I think back on that year and it would have been such a bad year (Bush re-elected, leaving Lewiston, etc.) except that the Sox saved it by making my childhood dream come true. No more pain over '86 and certainly no more lamentation over 2003 and keeping Pedro in.

Anyway, I hope that these shots have illustrated the buzz surrounding the park before the game. This will be the last pic of this entry. Stay tuned for part 2: pre-game inside the holy land...

not extreme but adequate makeover

Remember last year when I first moved back to MA and went to Ikea? And I wrote blog letters to Ikea? Yeah, that's back:

Dear Ikea,

Sorry I haven't written in so long. I've visited you three times without writing to say thanks for the bargains. Now it is time to catch up.

First, I shall start with my most recent trip. Later on, in another entry, I'll address the other two visits.

Well, you were a nice place to take Mom for mother's day. We enjoyed ourselves. We love bargain shopping. Though, I don't know how many times we mentioned how dangerous you are, what with such good deals. Still, Mom got the Mikael in beech effect white. A giant, sleek new desk for only 150, including a storage unit and a glass top. Now, to put it together. There's always the rub with you.

And, as mentioned in the previous blog, I got the Vika table top with the red Curry legs. Thirty buck for a table. Can't beat that, can you?

Then those orange drapes. O, I had no intention whatsoever of redoing my tiny bedroom, especially since I don't want to be in it. But, alas, your prices were too enticing. Rather than describe what spending $46 can do to a tiny bedroom, I shall show you. A 1000 words, as they say.See? Isn't that nice? And I have you to thank for it, Ikea. Orange, purple, pink and red. How fun!

More later...

Love,
Birget (Swedish version of name)

LOF the sequel (w/ a new ending as of 5/12)

Sometimes at the end of the night on Fridays, I look around the store and turn to my fellow co-workers and say, "Dang. What is wrong with people? Look at this. It is evidence that we are one natural disaster away from some serious Lord of the Flies."

And we survey mashed chicken nuggets on the floor, empty soda bottles tucked into clothing racks, mountains of shirts on the floor, jeans rolled up into balls and stuffed where ever, gigantic piles indicating someone changed her mind and left ten pieces of women's clothing all over a table in the boys' department.

Oh the inhumanity of mall shoppers during the weekend.

A blonde-from-a-box woman shouting on her cell phone, driving a gigantic SUV, and entering the mall almost hit me today. Honestly, could she BE any more stereotypically despicably American?

Maybe she follows Joel Osteen's preachings. Apparently, Jesus wants you to be rich. And if you're poor, does that mean Jesus doesn't love you?

I'm watching Anderson Cooper's 360 series "What is a Christian?" while I write this, which is where that comment came from. Apparently, God doesn't believe the Palenstinians should live in Gaza. Also, according to Pat Robertson, PM Ariel Sharon fell so ill because he gave up some of the holy land to the Palestinians.

What would Jesus do? Definitely exacerbate volatile conditions and support the path to war. I mean, isn't that what he meant when he said, "Love thy neighbor..."?

I also heard Christopher Hitchens on "On Point" today. The jury (consisting of me) is still out on that one. I'm going to have to read the book. Though I do agree on one point he made, which is that it is DISGUSTING what horrible things people will justify in the name of religion.

(this section added later--5/12/07...I literally fell asleep while writing this entry last night)

But you could hear Tom Ashbrook's flabberghastation (I made that word up and intend to use it often) when a preacher from the South called up to tell a story about God's existence. It went as follows: The preacher called to testify about the power of God because a decade ago, his young daughter was on her death bed and they said nothing could be done. The preacher prayed to God and she was saved.

Hitchens said that the man's story was crap. It was the worst form of charlatanism and blatantly false. He was angry at the guy. He asked about the millions of other grieving parents who have prayed but their children died anyway. Were their prayers not good enough for God? Were their children not good enough for God? These stories, he said, were the worst kinds because they imply that anyone who isn't saved after praying is worse than the people whose "prayers" are "answered" by this "God."

Anyway, it isn't everyone who can talk about a major retail mall store, conservative Christianity and antitheism in a blog and tie it all together, so I hope y'all appreciate this.

Going to the Holy Land

That's right folks. Saturday, we got tickets for the Baltimore game. $7 Sammy's here we come. It will be me and Mom and Dad and a Guest To Be Named Later (getit? ha ha) at Fenway pAHk.

It's been a whole nine months since I've been there. Can you imagine going that long? What is wrong with me?

Well, it's because you have to know someone to get tickets or be willing to pay an arm anda leg.

So, it's good to know people. Look for me along the third baseline.

Off to Old Slavery. More later...

Ekphrastic

Loosely, the literary representation of a work of art.

But it isn't necessarily a description of a work of art. It could be something inspired by the art. Or a response to the art. Or something that evokes the art in a literary way.

And I'm attempting it.

I've taken photos of different places. Sometime it's a photo of a landmark. Sometimes just a random thing. And I'm going to write ekphrastics to go along with them.

So, here goes:

Photo title: This Is a Place

This is a place to sit for an hour or more when the weather is
Finally good
Finally

When you sit here, you can write a long poem here
About how you wish you weren't here

You wish you were at a place where outside
Wasn't covered in concrete

You can describe the people and the setting and the things in your head
And apologize to Robert Lowell for stealing the setting
Of a poem from him

After you're done writing
You can walk up the hill,
Past the disabled homeless,
And stand back to back with tourists
As they take a picture of the Capitol Building

Then walk down the hill and
Under the ground
And go home

Eatin' Healthy & The Adams

(see my blog entry on Abigail Adams here)

Waddup Quincy and Weymouth: home of the Adams!

Eatin' Healthy-That's the name of the little cafe I'm sitting right now. It's in Quincy Cennah (Quincy Center for those without thick Quicy-style Boston accents). I'm listening to a woman chattering rather loudly into her cell phone. She is speaking Haitian Creole. This makes me sad that I forgot my headphones to listen to my iTunes and also that my mp3 player has not yet arrived in the mail.

(Side note: I need to learn Haitian because I want to know if the kids at school are talking about me behind my back or other inappropriate things after school. I know French en peu so I get about 5.25% of what they say...)

This place is pretty good. Free wifi (hence the blog), close to work, a little more expensive than a regular casual dining place but that's what happens when there's vegetarian, healthy food available. What's funny is that if this same place were in Maine (well, there are a thousand places like this in Maine), the guy behind the counter wouldn't be a tuff Quincy kid with a wicked thick accent and backwards Red Sox cap, but some dread-locked, nose pierced ditzy dude.

What is similar is that it's close to a park. Only this National Park is in a business building in the middle of the city and serves people who love David McCullough books. (PS This link is to the Thomas Crane Library, which is down the street from the park.)

This is what I see right now:

And now it's pulled away. It's the trolley to take you to the Adams birthplaces, which is right down the street from the first house I lived in, soon to be a museum, I'm sure. As soon as one of you readers writes my Wikipedia entry, as requested on several occasions now.

Anyway, then the trolley takes you to the Adams Mansion.

Guess the name of the street where the Adams' mansion is located. Guess!

That's right: Adams Street.

You are a genius. You should be a city planner.

Anyway, the trolley doesn't take you to Weymouth, but that's where Abigail Adam's birthplace is. I should know. It's drilled into our brain every year of school while going through the Weymouth Public School system. I've been on a field trip to the Abigail Adams birthplace. In 8th grade I sang a sonata about Abigail Adams. If I were in middle school right now, I would have gone to Abigail Adams Middle School. As a camp counselor, I subjected further Weymouth youth to the Cult of Abigail by making them be quiet when the fake Abigail came to our rec program perform a biographical play about her. Abigail Abigail Abigail.

Still, she is by far the best woman in American history to be both first lady and first mother. The other one, I hear, is a real bi-atch.

Off to finally complete my assignment for good ol' grad school.