True Story

My grandmother is a character. Seriously. Once at a party she grandly announced, "Something in this room has been in a boat!" When asked what it was, she couldn't remember. For my eleventh birthday she gave me a beaded tassel.

So, tonight my mom was supposed to go to a gallery opening with her. Just as my mom was about to leave the house, the phone rang. It was my grandmother. In some sort of bizarre mistake, after getting dressed she went to her dresser to spray herself with perfume and sprayed herself with turpentine instead.

And then she no longer wanted to go out because she smelled bad.

Next Month: National Ethics Awareness Month

February is National Sinus Pain Awareness month. So, to celebrate I contracted myself a case of the flu. Along with the sinus pain I was also aware of coughing, sore throat, body aches, a 104.9 fever and semi-delusional behavior.

I slept pretty much the entire weekend except for when I woke up to have this conversation with Chris:

Me: Are you guys trying to win a Barry Bottle contest?

Chris:(the only other person in the room) ...what?

Me: Barry Bottle strings.

Chris: What are you talking about? Do you have a fever?

Me: No! I'm talking about a real thing!

Chris: What are you talking about?

Me: Uh... uhm. I don't remember.

Spice Up Your Life!

I went to Boston this week to see the Spice Girls reunion tour with Jewelia. (Which, if you haven't spiced up your life recently, I highly recommend.) The day after the concert we had a few hours in Boston before our flight and we ate at the Cheers bar. No one knew my name, but the appetizers were pretty good and afterwards we discovered the "freedom trail," a red brick road that takes you to all the historical sites in downtown Boston.

The first place that we stopped was the Colonial Cemetery. Along with Sam Adams and John Hancock, Mother Goose is buried there! Her name was actually Elizabeth Goose and while her tombstone was stolen years ago you can still see the tombstone of Mr. Goose's first wife, Mary.

My favorite grave though was Mr. James Nickols, who I like to believe was so infamous that no biographical information needed to be engraved on his tombstone.

We also learned that in the 1960s one of the tombstones went missing and the police had no leads UNTIL several people complained that the pizza they had bought at a certain pizza place had an epitaph baked into the bottom.

Yeah.