John Hughes

<3Jake Ryan<3

<3Jake Ryan<3

I know it’s a little late for this, but I just found this amazing story about John Hughes. It’s a beautiful tribute that shows what a wonderful man he was.

Thanks, DatingJesus, for the link.


the epic saga of Brakes the beagle.

Ok, so I’ve been MIA for like a week, but with good reason. First, I had nothing to write about. Then, this dog ran away and it consumed a lot of my thoughts. (And no one reads this anyway, so what does it matter?)

It’s kind of a long story, so here goes…

My brother works at a place called Paw Play, a doggie daycare. Some of the people who work there run a little animal shelter operation called Pawtectors. They rescued a tiny little beagle from a lab where he spent the first three years of his tiny little life being injected with medicines. You know that whole animal testing thing? Yeah, I’m totally against that, even moreso than I used to be, now that little Brakes (more on that soon) is in my life.

Anyway, they named him Brakes because he has an ID tattooed on the underside of his ear and the last three letters are ABS. Cute, right? So, my brother, being lover of all animals, decides he wants this dog. He has the brilliant idea to show the dog to my mother, and she decides she wants it and takes it for a trial run, starting this past Monday.
She has him for 2 whole days and on the third day (he rose again…no, wait) she picks him up from Paw Play after she gets out of work, and he gets loose. Now, Brakes is the most skittish little creature I’ve ever seen. He’s afraid of everything, and doesn’t even know how to bark. She chased him around for a bit, but he just kept running away.

So I get there about an hour later, and look around for an hour. Finally I find him in this big clearing, but as soon as he realizes I’m coming toward him, he runs into the woods. I did things I thought would never do while trying to catch him, like taking off my shoes and running barefoot through a muddy clearing full of sticks and rocks, and going into the woods alone.

This story could be really dragged out, but I’ll try to cut to the chase. My brother got there soon after, and searched the woods, even sustaining multiple bee stings (which was sort of funny to witness, as he ran from the woods and shouted “it feels like lightning!” and just kept running, kind of like a scene from Jackass), until around 10 p.m. So we were left with no doggy, and lots of tears, and we decided to call it a night.

The next morning, Tommy had to be at work bright and early and share the bad news to his coworkers and bosses. Luckily, they were just concerned about finding the dog, and set out in the rain to search the woods where Brakes was last seen.

He wasn’t spotted, and although we thought the worst could’ve happened, we put signs up everywhere and the cops, warden, and pounds in our town and those surrounding were all aware of our little pup.

That night, my broski got a call that Brakes was spotted by the Pawtectors lady, and she was chasing him through a big graveyard in town near the woods where he was last seen. So, about 10 of his coworkers spent the night chasing him around. They saw him a few times, and the good news was he hadn’t gone far.

The same happened the next day, with the dog being spotted and even momentarily caught the next night. The guy who caught him let him go after Brakes snapped and startled him.
But, morale was still high, and Tommy was excited to get up early yesterday to find the pup. Whoever was out looking spotted him around 8, and T was there in 5 minutes’ time. By 10:30, they had him. He spent the day at the vet getting rehydrated (poor baby hadn’t had a thing to eat or drink in days, and all that running had to tire him out!).
We’re still not sure who’s gonna keep him (we have our fingers crossed that Daddy will cave!), but I don’t think I’ve gone through such an emotional rollercoaster in a very long time. And I knew I loved animals, but this whole incident showed me that I had no clue how much.

Macca at Fenway

Sir Paul
Sir Paul

I went with my dad last night to see Paul McCartney (A BEATLE!!!!) play at Fenway Park. I love the Beatles (can anyone say they don’t?), so I was pretty excited to see the only surviving one (ok, Ringo’s alive, but he so doesn’t count) live.


As someone who likes a lot of music that came out twenty years prior to my birth, I’ve been blessed enough to catch the Rolling Stones five times in concert. Seeing the Beatles would be next on my to-do list.
Unfortunately, due to the deaths of the two awesomest (I know it isn’t a word) Beatles, the nicest Beatle and a kick-ass band would have to do.
And they were pretty kick-ass. The drummer, Abe Laboriel, Jr., looked almost pained as he bashed the drums. He kind of looks like the big Hawaaiian guy in Forgetting Sarah Marshall. But you could tell he’s been having the time of his life for the 30 years he’s backed up Sir Paul.
The guitarist and Keyboard/some kind of weird fake horn/harmonica player were also superb.
But Paul. SO good. At first, I couldn’t help but think that with all his plastic surgery, he looked a lot more like my 81-year-old grandmother than everyone’s favorite Beatle. However, it didn’t take long for me to remember why everybody loves him.
Macca engaged everyone in the stadium (which was a TON of people), sharing anecdotes between almost every song and taking in the praise of his audience. In a particularly adorable moment, he spoke of how the Beatles could never hear themselves sing in the early days because of how loud the girls were screaming. Of course, this prompted a very looong scream from the girls (read: middle aged+ women) in the crowd. After the next song, he said he just couldn’t get enough of it, and did it again.
He really was funny. And he sounded GREAT. Not only did his fingers manuever around his lefty guitar as nimbly as ever, but his voice sounded really good, for the most part.
McCartney opened with “Drive My Car” before going into a few of his solo songs and some songs by Wings. The majority of the show was a big ol’ Beatles sing-a-long, though, and it was fabulous.
I have to admit I was on the verge of emotional tears singing the “na na nas” of “Hey Jude” with thousands of people. And the beauty of acoustic numbers like “Blackbird” and “Yesterday” gave me chills.
I also loved the awesome pyrotechnic/firework display during “Live and Let Die” and the ’60s dance moves (mashed potato and all) of the Sarah Palin clone sitting in front of me.
Paul paid tribute to his long-gone friends, mentioning his late wife Linda more than a few times, much to my pleasure (I love Linda, and screw that Heather Mills bitch). He started “Something” with a ukelele, paying homage to my first favorite Beatle, George Harrison, and got everyone to cheer and give a standing ovation for John Lennon. However, I’ve gotta admit, the song he sang after that ovation, one he wrote for Lennon after his untimely death, was downright horribly crafted. Sorry, Paul.
Overall, it was an incredible experience. The fire the Beatles ignited in America in the ’60s was apparent as the older folks all around me danced their hearts out to “Back in the U.S.S.R.,” and it was awesome to snag a piece of the history the Beatles made.

hate notes

click to see more hilarious notes

click to see more hilarious notes

Still trying to accomplish the task of reading the entire archives of the funny gals blog, all the way back to September 2005 (that’s a lotta blog!).

Well, back in August ’07, they posted a link to, which, to my great delight, is still up and running and hilarious! Check it out!

The time I ran into someone very unexpected and other embarrassing tales.

I’ve spent the better part of my last four workdays reading the archives of a blog called Funny Gals. I stumbled upon it through twitter and it’s really pretty good. The two women are former journalists, but that’s about all I know (as far as who they are…past that, it seems they let their readers know A LOT) because they keep their identities pretty well hidden.

Anyway, reading this blog inspired me to think about a funny/embarrassing story from my life. I was beginning to think that really funny things didn’t happen to me, when I remembered…


Just last week, one of my best friends (since I was 5) turned 21. We had a weekend of festivities planned, starting with going out just before she turned 21 at midnight.

After a champagne toast at her house and some birthday banana cream pie, complete with cherry smiley face, we headed to Hartford.

I had offered to be the DD, so we set out in my beat-up ’98 Altima and arrived at the Pour House on Allyn Street. Now, the Pour House is a really fun bar because it’s got everything – the first floor is your typical bar, with a DJ spinning rock and roll, pool tables, and peanut shells on the floor. Upstairs, it’s a completely different world – a dark dancefloor that sounds like a high school dance – wayyy too much rap music.

To me, this is the best of both worlds. Rock and roll is my heart and soul (wow, that was pathetic). My best friend, Nickie, preferred the first level. But I love to dance. And so does the birthday girl, so we split our time between the two, going back and forth whenever we’d get bored.

Upstairs, we kept getting skeeved by the creeps trying to “dance” with us (yeah, I guess thrusting your pelvis into my back could be considered dancing in some countries). To our left was a woman in her forties, overweight and in an ill-fitting tube top, grinding with a sleazeball half her age. I pointed her out to the birthday girl and made a comment about her being to old to be there.

On our fourth or fifth trip back upstairs, the birthday girl had to use the bathroom. It stunk something awful in there, so Nickie and I told her we’d wait outside.

As I walked out, my gaze wandered to the right, toward the strobe lit dance floor. A mere four feet from me, I noticed a short, chubby woman who was definitely not fitting in with the crowd. She was alone, and standing over by the bathrooms, not on the dance floor. After I did a double-take, I realized this woman was MY MOTHER.

Picking my jaw up off the floor, I went over to her. We both started laughing immediately. I laughed uncontrollably for a full two minutes, until tears were streaming down my cheeks. My friends thought it was great.

I told her she belonged at someplace more suitable for a 47-year-old, and she pointed out that she was DDing and was only drinking a ginger ale.

She couldn’t find the friend from work who she’d come with, so we took her under our wing and brought her downstairs with us. Nickie did a shot of whiskey. With my mother. She thought it was great.

She spent much of the time trying to track down her friend, to no avail. When she finally grabbed her, I was horrified that it was the tube-topped-pig-lady.

“You need to teach your mom how to go clubbin’!” she said as she left.

You know what? I think I’ll pass.

Mommy and Me before Prom '06. Before we accidentally went out drinking together...

Mommy and Me before Prom '06. Before we accidentally went out drinking together...

(500) days of summer

Movie review time!

500days First things first, I have a MASSIVE girl crush on Zooey Deschanel, so I might be a little bit biased. (Oh-em-gee, if wikipedia is correct, we share a birthday. Ahhh!!) But I think even if I despised her, this movie would be great.

(500) Days of Summer‘ is quirky and it’s fun. Tom Hansen, played brilliantly by Joseph Gordon-Levitt (aka that kid from 3rd Rock From the Sun), could be a great architect but instead he writes greeting cards.

Summer Finn (Deschanel) comes in as his boss’ (Clark Gregg, who I could not for the life of me place, but just realized it’s Julia Louis-Dreyfuss’ ex in ‘The New Adventures of Old Christine’) assistant. Tom pretty much falls in love with her immediately.

‘Summer’ floats around Tom and Summer’s relationship, with nifty little placards (I mean, I guess they could be called placards, but not really…) indicating which day of the relationship the scene will be.

The voice-over who narrates key parts of the film warns that ‘Summer’ “is not a love story,” which seems a little confusing, because clearly the entire thing is about a romantic relationship.

Clarity came when I saw that the tagline on the poster outside the theatre read, “This is not a love story. It is a story about love.” And it is. These are two very different things.

‘Summer’ highlights the most raw feelings we encounter when we are in love – Gordon-Levitt’s walk to work turns into a musical number as he leaves his house after sleeping with Summer for the first time. We feel his pain when she tells him, after running through Ikea pretending each room display was part of their house and crashing into a bed (“Darling, I don’t know how to tell you this, but there’s a Chinese family in our bathroom,” Tom says in one of the funniest moments of the movie, complete with the whole family staring at the couple lying in bed), that she’s not looking for anything serious.

Their struggles with defining what they are – Tom is head over heels in love, Zooey doesn’t believe in love after her parent’s divorce – are at the core of the film.

There are twists, and this is not a traditional cookie-cutter rom-com. In the end, the guy doesn’t win over the girl who stomped on his heart over pancakes. If you’re looking for a picture perfect ending, be warned. But ‘Summer’ is compelling and touching through and through. Even if the ending isn’t what you expect, it’s a different kind of happily-ever-after.

Find (much more in-depth) reviews here and here.


i mean LOOK at him
i mean LOOK at him

In just over 24 hours, I will be anxiously awaiting the arrival of Incubus on stage at the Tweeter Comcast Center in Mansfield, Mass.

I am very excited to be breathing the same air as one of my oldest crushes.
That is all.
‘Til then, I’m going to be house-slash-dog sitting for my auntie and friendsitting (ok, not really) my best girl friend and my best guy friend (not to be confused with my best boyfriend).
Tostitos and pineapple-infused Skyy await 🙂