The First Kill

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Remember how not too long ago we had decided (after my hesitancy) to wage war against our little furry rodents who decided to co-inhabit our apartment without our permission and who shit EVERYWHERE??? Well the war raged on, only for a while, us human seemed to be on the losing side. I will admit that part of it was my reluctance to undertake the mouse genocide project whole-heartedly.

For example, when the boys brought home a little poison trap:

Mouse Death Powder ContraptionI took to hiding it (above mouse-level) around the house, not only because I was worried about Shane, but also because the thought of killing the poor little bastards with poison made me sad. Also, the thought of them dying in the walls and then smelling their little rotting carcasses months later was not appealing to me.

The boys agreed to do away with the poison, but they argued that the Have-a-Heart traps I purchased would also have to go, especially since they had yielded no results whatsoever. So I conceded my Have-a-Hearts and we all decided we needed to get aggressive, but remain as humane as possible, which is where the good ol’ fashioned guillotine traps came in.

And alas, SUCCESS!!! We made our first kill today! And here, in all of his dead furry glory, the fruits of our labor:

Look at his eyes bulging out of his head hahah! (I know I'm a sick fuck)

Look at his eyes bulging out of his head hahah! (I know I’m a sick fuck)

[Just to note here, even though Shane is a pit-bull terrier whose ancestors were originally BRED TO HUNT RODENTS, Shane is absolutely USELESS when it comes to these fuckers. Seriously. I have never seen a dog so completely uninterested as Shane is in these bastards. And mind you, there was a point where they were like running around like crazy, so it wasn’t as if you couldn’t see them! I swear Shane is a bunny trapped in a pit bull suit].

And that’s how we won the first battle. From then on, every corner and crevice was booby-trapped…. we found their weakness and we were ready!

Dylan’s Big Break

November 25, 2012

As of this Special Sunday, Dylan had now been in the U.S. for a little over a month and a half. In that amount of time, he had moved and settled into the apartment, had bought a car, subsequently insured it, and was hired at a job which met his Visa requirements. I am not sure if it’s because I suck at everything (or maybe it’s my pessimistic view of everything), but I am still very impressed with his motivation and ability to accomplish all of those things in what to me seems a very short period of time.

I mean think about it: when you first graduated college and went out into the real world what did you do? How long did it take you to find a job? Or an apartment? Or accomplish the small things like get your own health and car insurance? And then think about doing that in a foreign country where the laws and guidelines differ from your own so you have to research everything constantly… Again, this could be just my point of view – I mean keep in mind here this is coming from a girl who saw a pediatrician until she was 23… And to note, it wasn’t my choice to see a real doctor – I think my pediatrician was just tired of me asking for Winnie the Pooh stickers after she prescribed my birth control…

Any way, I was impressed with Dylan’s ability to hit the ground running and for that matter, I continuously find myself impressed with all of the boys’ abilities to simple go and “do”. I am not sure if this is a guy quality or an Irish thing, or if I personally am a nervous wreck, but whenever faced with any sort of obligation, the boys always just do it… I know I personally procrastinate all the time because I don’t know who to call or how to get somewhere and then I stress over it and then I want someone to come with me – this stress and inability to accomplish small things has lessened with time (switching to an adult doctor from a pediatrician being a prime example), but I feel like the boys never encountered it at all. They don’t ask questions, they just do what needs to be done. It is an admirable quality.

On this particular Sunday, Dylan could finally breathe easily: no more rushing back and forth on buses or the T, or running around to interviews, or meeting with so-and-so who know so-and-so and could help him with such-and-such… Yep, Dylan was finally free of all the worry. And what better way to celebrate than by getting hammered and watching football? No better way at all.

And so we did. And for the record, Dylan thinks Americans are worse alcoholics than the Irish because we think it’s ok to drink champagne at breakfast. 🙂

A Change of Heart

Thursday, November 15 [I am just going to start dating these posts as to when they happened because it’s easier for me. Now I just need to begin each post with “Dear Diary” and it will be like I am reliving the 90s all over again.]

Dear Diary, …. Ha no, no, I promise I won’t go down that road! This post here is a post of heartbreak and betrayal resulting in a different perspective on some aspects of my life.

I love animals. I always have since I was a little girl (I think most little girls love animals, too, unless they are like sociopaths or something). When I was little, I also was a lot less prejudiced about the sorts of animals I loved: from seagulls to worms to the neighbor’s mean dog to weird looking fish. Now that I am older, aside from like spiders, I’m pretty cool about most animals. This is to include our little friend TJ the mouse; I mean I’ve had a pet mouse, not to mention a pet hermit crab and even a pet rat to name a few. And aside from that, mice are cute fuzzy creatures. They remind me of like teeny tiny versions of my dog Shane: soft and furry, little tails and paws and whiskers…

…Which, needless to say, is one of the reasons I’ve so fiercely defended TJ against the boys’ repeated attempts to murder him. Well on this day, everything changed when I came home to this:

Mouse shit EVERYWHERE
Mouse shit EVERYWHERE

Yes all those little black dots are MOUSE SHIT!!!! It was so disgusting. I knew then that TJ had betrayed my trust and he invited his whole family to come over and defecate on where I make my food. EWWWWWWW…..

TJ broke my heart. And there was only one thing to do about that: TJ and his mice family had to die. I called my roommates and let them know I had switched allegiances and so began the war of Mice V. Men (and a Woman) in our apartment….

Death to all mice!!!!

Death to all mice!!!!

Boys Will Be Boys

Back to the blog now, I know the last post was serious and sentimental, but it had to be done. It feels weird to blog now about something that’s not serious after all that’s happened, but I’m thinking of it more as a distraction for me now. So let this blog then serve as a sort of distraction for you, too. Besides, in life there is always ups and downs, and sometimes you must fight tears with laughter.

Being all sensitive and reflective on life leads me to my next post. Now I live my sarcastic life by two sayings. The first is “follow your heart”. This flowery phrase (which unfailingly makes me want to break into a song from Disney’s Pocahontas – yeah you know the one) means basically “do whatever the fuck you want.” Yep, pretty simple.

The second saying is “boys will be boys.” This one probably pertains mostly to my love life, but can be used pretty much interchangeably in any discussion regarding the opposite sex. This probably explains a lot of things but what it comes down to is that I don’t bother with wondering about guys. They like sports and stuff. And some guys don’t. It really doesn’t matter. The point is to not to think too much into it, because most guys have simple motives. I mean, this isn’t even gender specific I just like to say “boys will be boys.”

Anyway, that being said, this post brings us to the Friday night of November 9th. Me and Suzie had some big dreams for snowboarding for the winter and there was a ski & snowboard expo in town that we decided to go to and luckily enough, we managed to drag Colin along, too. We didn’t have time to eat since we both got out of work late enough and we wanted to go there before it closed that night. Big mistake, since we also decided to do some serious drinking including bringing water bottles of wine into the expo. After the expo, we hit a bar and by I’d say 9:30 we were both blackout and Colin had to walk Suzie home and tuck me into bed. Thank god and I’ll tell you why.*

It all started with a dart game. Well no, that’s not entirely true. It all started with a girl. A mean girl who broke my roommate’s heart. Now, this girl may read this blog from time to time. She is a nice girl however now that she has broken my roommate’s heart she is no longer on my nice list and I hope she breaks her legs. No, ok so that’s mean maybe not both legs. That’s just the way it is. Sorry, Girl. So he had a broken heart and he was down about that as anyone would be about something like that and the 3 of them were drinking and 2 of them apparently came up with this “great” idea, which was to find a distraction from said broken heart.**

As many of you know, are only a few things that can take a guy’s mind off of a girl. One of those things is drinking and the other thing is yep, you guessed it, a different girl. Since my roommates were already drinking, they just needed some ladies. Now where were these 2 boys to find female company on short notice guaranteed to give them the attention they were looking for? That’s right, my friends: the interwebs. That’s also right, my friends: the girls I am talking about are prostitutes. YES, I KNOW.. what theeeee fuck. The thing is my roommates are not even bad looking. Actually they are all super duper cute and, on top of this, they are athletic and have blue eyes and Irish accents… Like seriously, who wouldn’t love them!?

So not sure the logic was there, but, as I always say, boys will be boys (hehehe, yeah, I did that). Anyway they did. Here is what happened next, courtesy of a numbered list:

1. They played a dart game to see who would get their first pick. I know, they treat objects, women, man.

2. Ladies of the night arrive.

3. The 2 boys who ordered (I use the word “ordered” here because I really don’t know the correct terminology for requesting a prostitute. Using the word “ordered” makes it sound like they called up Domino’s but I’m sorry, I don’t know what other vocabulary to use here) the girls then decide that they are going to chicken out and no longer want to have sex with the 2 women.

4. a) One of them pretends to be asleep on the couch.

b) One of them goes into his room, shuts the door, jumps out his window onto the back porch and then climbs up onto the roof to hide there.

c) The third one, who has been observing this all from the kitchen, sits in the kitchen and continues to drink while laughing his ass off.

5. Prostitutes get angry, and I don’t blame them. If I got all dressed up and went to work, only for my boss to tell me that he didn’t need me and wasn’t going to pay me, I’d be pissed off too. So they steal one of my bottles of champagne and depart back into the night from whence they came.

6. Boys watch on the roof as they get back into their pimp’s car and drive away. More laughter. Everyone goes to bed.

7. Next morning comes. The third roommate who did not order the prostitutes tell me what happened. Needless to say, I am fucking furious. The house is bad enough of a carnival as it is without fucking pimps and prostitutes knowing where we live.

8. I wake each of the 2 offending roommates up with a slap in the face and a lecture.

9. I make them breakfast and we eat as a family.

THE END. Moral here is that boy wills be boys. Oftentimes, boys do not think before they act, either. (But in a way it’s kind of heart-warming – or something – they way they chickened out.) I have no choice but to forgive them, so I hope you will, too. Besides, even if I was fucking pissed, at least I get a blog post out of it, right?

*Now, please keep in mind I am sharing this story based on the retelling of it to me by my roommates. As I was in a blacked-out slumber, neither the forces of Heaven nor Hell would have woken me, so I am going to relate this the best I can.

**I am also not going to relate which 2 roommates are the guilty ones in this story. If you know them personally, you can pick the one you think is the innocent one and which 2 are the.. ahem… “naughty” ones, if you will…

Boston, You’re My Home

I know you weren’t to know where we live, but I think a good number of you, if you didn’t know already, may have figured it out.. I mean come on. Irish people. Boston. Where else would we be? Anyway, maybe it would have been easier to keep quiet if it were not for the horrific events that occurred in this fine city earlier this week on Monday, April 15th.

Half mast

Perhaps because it is so close to home, or maybe because it comes so close on the heels of the tragedy in Newtown, but I can’t help but be just very shaken and hurt by this. I only remember feeling similar to this once before on the days following September 11th, 2001 – and perhaps I am not the only American to share this sentiment. It is the feeling of sadness and despair, of helplessness, but also of confusion and fear and anger.

In 2001 I was 14. I remember I was shocked more so than anything. I never gave too much thought about the Middle East, as in, ever. The relationship between Russia and Afghanistan to me was irrelevant then; why should it have mattered to me anyway, when so much of it happened before I was even born? And why should George Bush Sr.’s actions ever affect me? Or the Gulf War – after all I was only 3 or 4 and it wasn’t my fault. And I didn’t really know who Saddam Hussein was nor did I care.. But 9/11 marked a big change in how I’ve come to see the world, as it did for many Americans. I became aware of the U.S. not as where I was from, but as a nation among other nations, each with their own agenda. “Al Qaeda” is now a household name. “Communism” seems like an ancient folk story, an irrational fear – we fight the war on Terror now. And now my niece, who is 13 and was there at the time, will have this to grow up to, to grow into, more fear, more hatred and anger and more terror, if anything it seems.

I’m 25 now and 9/11 echoes in my head as profoundly as ever along with all the other recent tragedies as a nation we’ve had to experience. Obviously I see the world differently now and my emotions have evolved a bit, but that doesn’t make me feel any less. 9/11, Newtown, 4/15, and all sorts of catastrophes, all of these are so different from one another, yet my grief is still the same. Such senseless acts out of what our society has become… And I can’t help but believe that these kinds of things will keep happening until we all work to make a positive change both individually and as a larger national community. Changing the future comes from a group effort to change the way we think and act towards one another; we need to work on loving our neighbors and respecting each other despite nationality, religion or ethnicity; we need to help the weak and speak for the voiceless. Only then will love and respect be reciprocated, only after it is generated within each and every one of us.

I’ll leave off on the email my mother sent to me after I called her, upset with how nothing ever seems fair, upset with the hopelessness of it all, why the innocent seem so often punished and the evildoers do not, upset, in general, with “the way things are.” If you need some consolation as I did, then read it. I hope it will comfort you in a time when things seem very bleak as it did me:

“Hi ________,

It is hard at times like this to be away from you.   I wish so much I could be with you and hug you and hold you like when you were little and needed hugs.   Nobody ever should grow out of needing hugs and comfort at times like this.

This will sound strange maybe, but I am comforted that you are grieving and sad, because it means you are not hardened to what is going in the world.   Don’t let yourself get hardened, too many people need you and everyone to remain human, with human souls and hearts.   If you let yourself get hardened, then these monsters who do these things have won and we might as well pack up and go home to our computers and stop being human.

Try to read stories, not necessarily about Boston, because you probably do need to shut the news off for a while.  But stories about people doing wonderful, caring work throughout the world.  I still believe there are many, many more good people than bad.   The bad ones just can do so much spectacular damage that we know about their doings more than the quiet, small-scale good work that good people do.

Try to comfort yourself, but keep your humanity.  There is most definitely something about the geographic closeness of an event like this that hits home the hardest.  I cried for many days after Newtown.  It did help when ______ and I went to Sandy Hook to one of the areas they had set up as a shrine (well, many shrines, it was a pretty big area, as you can imagine).   There were many people there, and it was crowded, but we went off to one of the edges of it, and just hugged each other and cried together for a while.   Some random woman came to us and asked if she could pray with us.   Normally I can’t stand when people are proselytizing, but she wasn’t.   She just wanted to pray with us, and she did.  I think going there helped me just a little bit, I certainly needed to go and cry.   Maybe it might help you if you went to something like this, or just find a quiet reflective place outside by the water, and create your own shrine.   Cry as long and hard as you want, it is justified and there is nothing wrong with you for doing so – there is everything right with you to have human feelings.

I just wish I could be there with you.   Please know that no matter of the ups and downs in your childhood, I love you more than I can ever tell you and you are so very special to me.

Can’t wait to see you soon… Call me anytime you want to talk.

 

love you so much,

Mom
[She ended with the below:]
Here is a quote from one of the parents of one of the children murdered in Newtown:

“We choose love, belief and hope instead of anger,” she continued. “We choose love. Love wins.”

There was more, but I love the simplicity of this.”

American Politics and the Return of TJ the Mouse

Who knows what the first Tuesday of November in 2012 was? Yea, my title to this post kind of gave it away, huh? The 6th of November was another presidential election scramble, and I do think it was the boys’ first American Election experience.

I was up drinking wine until I heard the results, I'll admit it!

I was up drinking wine until I heard the final results, I’ll admit it!

What I find interesting about the boys is that whenever we broach the topic of politics, they are very open to learning about different perspectives on American politics and in any conversation with all of them, either individually or talking to the 3 of them together, they never seem overly critical. Now, this could be due to two reasons, one being that they are just holding their tongues and being polite to me (which could very well be the case), or two being that they before they pass judgement on an idea, they wait to hear more details on the issue.

This is so different from Americans discussing politics, both domestic and foreign, because I feel like we are both quick to judge and defend. Not only quick to judge other American’s opinions, we are quick to compare our political systems to those of other countries, without bothering to try to understand the foundation of a system different to ours and what makes it tick. We are also the fastest to defend and by defend I mean argue our positions – and maybe I say this because I’m an American so I always find myself in these situations, but honestly… For us there is only “liberal” or “conservative” and then let the battle begin – I mean really, when was the last time you heard two people with different political views having a “discussion”? Even on TV they’re never conversing or – god forbid – exchanging ideas, nope, they’re just fighting. (Except for Jon Stewart, he’s pretty cool.) I am not claiming innocence to this either, because I’m pretty bad myself, but maybe just maybe we could take a lesson and listen a bit more before jumping to conclusions…. OK that rant is over, sorry!

And anyway, we all know who won the election don’t we? And I don’t want to get into any political arguments, but I will say I am satisfied with the results.

Aside from the return of Obama, around now is when we saw the return of someone else… that’s right! TJ the mouse was slowly making a comeback and the TJ sightings were increasing by this time. Now I had a tougher battle than politics to fight, and that was the safety of poor little TJ. The boys were set on getting rid of his little furry bottom and I was just as equally determined to defend this poor helpless little creature.

So began the battle over the fate of TJ the mouse. Although I made them promise time and again to leave him alone, later on in the same week I found a poison thing left out for him, which I kept moving into a place which TJ would not be harmed, but the boys would find it and then move it back, and it kept on like that until I finally threw it away. And so Obama was president and TJ was safe… for the time being…

I Outdrank an Irish Boy

This is a true story, I swear! The first Saturday of November (yes, I’ve finally gotten to November in this narrative) was a fateful day.

It began innocently enough. Strangely, for whatever reason, I woke up early on a Saturday. And by early I mean 9am. Which is early for me. Anyway, obviously if I was going to wake up early on the weekend, I was going to use my day wisely. Which meant I was going to get breakfast or brunch or whatever – I was going to get food. I dragged Colin with me as Owen was already up and out of the house (for whatever reason that boy gets up really early on the weekends, God only knows where he roams to), and Dylan was still sleeping like Princess Aurora (a Princess Aurora that can grow facial hair, but like a Sleeping Beauty nonetheless).

Now my friend once pointed out an article to me and I forget the verbatim title but it was something along the lines of “The Top 5 Things Women Love”.* Included among such items as “cheese” and “seltzer water” is “brunch”. Now I fuckin’ LOVE me some brunch, but what I love most about brunch is not actually the food but the drinks. And since I woke up so early on this Saturday in particular, I was going to enjoy quite a few Bloody Marys. Colin, on the other hand, had ordered a Bud Light and was looking at my drink very quizzically, until he finally voiced his thoughts which were basically: “What the hell are you drinking?” And of course I was all American girl about it and was like: “OMG you’ve never, like, had a Bloody Mary??” (OK so I hope I didn’t say it like that, but I’m sure I definitely might have.)

In any case, the answer was no, Colin had never had a Bloody Mary before. The next thing you know, the eating part of brunch was long over and we just were knocking back quite a few Bloody Marys, you know getting that Vitamin C and such until we just got to the point where there was no turning back and we just decided to go mosey on down to another bar – conveniently enough, Jerry’s was right down the street from where we had brunch, and you can guess what happened from there.

At some point towards the earlyish afternoon, Dylan and Owen called and Colin and I reported back to home base to figure out what the next moves were… and by that time Colin and I were shit-faced. As I was getting ready to go out for Round 3, we realized Colin had fallen asleep – and there was no waking him up. Me, Owen and Dylan went on to the English Cottage, where we met all sorts of other random people (other Irish people and my twin among them) and got all sorts of silly and rowdy. I think we might have even ventured so far as Folen’s but that would be into that grey area of my memory that I can’t be too sure of.

Owen thought she was me from behind and accidentally kissed her on the head. Turns out it wasn't me, just my twin! We made friends, though! :)

Owen thought she was me from behind and accidentally kissed her on the head. Turns out it wasn’t me, just my twin! We made friends, though! 🙂 Guess which one is me!

After all our adventures and marathon drinking escapade, I didn’t even realize I had outdrank Colin until the next day. And you know what? I do feel accomplished. Geez my mom would be proud… yeah probably not, but I’ll bet my sister is. 😉

* Just as a footnote here, I actually googled this and the article is titled “The Definitive List of Weird Shit Girls Like” and I’m reading it again and it’s hysterical. I have to say at least for me personally, it’s pretty spot on except for the Hunter boots cuz, you know, I like my rain boots with pictures of ducks with umbrellas on them or something. You can check it out here: http://nyc.barstoolsports.com/random-thoughts/the-definitive-list-of-weird-shit-that-chicks-like/