DFKJSDFJH;FGHAS.

Okay so here is the deal: I don’t have a driver’s license. This is weirdly stressful to a lot of people– “You don’t have a WHAT?” they always say–but it actually works for me just fine. I’ve lived in a city for six years. If I’m going somewhere the T can’t take me, odds are I’m not going there alone. And frankly, I am a flipping TERRIBLE driver. So, whatever. I am handy on road trips because I make good mix cds, and also snacks, but you should know that if you get tired of driving you are shit out of luck, because I called shotgun before we got in the car and shotgun is where I am going to stay. 

But. Lately I’ve been thinking it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to have a license. It’s a life skill, I guess. It could be useful in emergencies, like if I was back home at my mom’s in New York and nobody wanted to go take me to get an iced coffee at Dunkin’ Donuts and both my legs were broken so I couldn’t walk there (although I guess if both my legs were broken I couldn’t drive, either, so). And eventually I am going to want to punch out some kids, and maybe I will have to drive the carpool or something, or MAYBE I will get that farm I have always wanted and I will have to take the produce to market. WHATEVER. The bottom line is, I am off from work today, and over the weekend I decided I was going to go take my freaking permit test and get this show on the road, so to speak, once and for all. 

I studied the manual. I memorized speed limits. I wrote myself an inspirational “Git her done” message and stuck it on the bathroom mirror. I read the guidelines VERY CAREFULLY and made sure to have all my documents in order. This morning, when the Boston branch of the Mass RMV opened its doors at nine o’clock, I was standing in line. 

I waited. And waited. And when they finally called my number–”I’m here to take the permit test!” I said cheerfully–the woman at the desk explained to me in halting, broken English that I had the wrong papers. 

“No, they’re right,” I told her, pointing to the RMV-issued list I’d printed offline. “See?”

“Nope. Wrong.” She needed a copy of my lease, she told me–which was sitting in a file box back at my apartment, forty minutes away. 

JUST. What was I going to do? I trekked back to Southie, got her the damn lease, and trekked all the way back across town, where I stood in line AGAIN. I waited. And waited. I got to the front of the line, where a new woman now stood. “I’m here to take the permit test!” I told her. 

“Oh,” she said. “We’re not doing permit tests today. Machine’s broken. Could try taking it at another branch, though.”

Um. Would have been nice if the first woman had mentioned that, yes? But no matter. I was GITTING HER DONE. “Well, okay,” I said. “Where’s the closest one?”

“Watertown,” she told me. “But you’d have to drive.”

Hey Miss American Girl

I have these girlfriends. We dig each other a lot. 

When we are together, which is not often enough, we do a lot of eating. 

And drinking. 

And loving on each other. 

I am because you are, chickens. You are all across the country, and you are safe right here with me. 

 

 

(Photos gakked from M. That’s me in the sunglasses in every single picture. Sometimes I like to act famous.)

Summer Night

Dance Party in Central Square!

Southie Brunch

H and J came over yesterday for brunch on the roof deck. On the menu:

My favorite brunch fallback: an Ina frittata with broccoli, sausage, and cheese

Cinnamon-raisin muffins (recipe to come! I MADE IT UP!) and a big bowl of fruit. Plus lots of iced coffee, obvs. We don’t do anything in this house without a lot of iced coffee. 

Frankie was suitably impressed.

This Little Piggy

What up, Swine Flu in Massachusetts?

 

Are we worried about this?

 

Tom says no, but we do live in a city in which 21 people were once killed in a giant flood of molasses. I feel like it’s better not to take chances.

Candy from Strangers

 

The other day the Quaker folks were giving out True Delights granola bars outside the subway, and I am not kidding when I say they truly were delightful. I had Toasted Coconut Banana Macadamia Nut, and before you are like “Well DUH they were giving that nasty kind away for free,” they were super tasty! Sweet but not gross, and reasonably filling for a snack attack. 

I don’t know exactly what the gimmick is here, since corn syrup is the second ingredient so it’s not like they’re particularly classy or good for you, although they do come in a slick black wrapper and are considerably more expensive than good old low-fat S’mores flavor. The Angelina Jolie of granola bars, if you will.

Anyway, they’re good, and if a stranger tries to give one to you as you climb aboard public transportation, you should take it, is what I’m saying.