Bring it, 2012...

It is that time of year again, and I must make myself suffer.  I have decided to give up alcohol as my new year's resolution.  This past year was an eye-opener for sure.  I realized that I really like sparking wine a little too much (magnum bottles of Cristalino by the case give anyone a clue?), and that white wine doesn't have to be all that bad, just not as good.  But on a hot day, which is rare around these parts, white wine works well.  But, now that I have come to enjoy sparkling wine, there really is no reason for white wine.  So, I'm back to square one. 

Delicious in all its forms.  Especially the magnum bottle.

Beer.  I LIKE beer, but I don't LOVE beer.  The time and place has to be right.  The meal I just ate cannot have been an El-Zocalo burrito.  And anything darker than PBR...forget about it.  It makes me feel bloated and gives me heartburn.  However, an Irish Car Bomb?  That's a horse of a different color.

Our hidden secret.  Just no beer with the burrito.  Oy.

The hard stuff is for mixing.  Too much work if you ask me.  Anyone who isn't an old Russian woman is lying to you that they enjoy Vodka straight up.  Gin tastes like crap, and what the hell is "Desorano"?  

You can see every drop of vodka in this woman's face.

So, clearly I am trying to imbibe as much alcohol as I can before the faucet turns off on January 1st, 2012.  Not Midnight, January 1st.  Heck, I don't go back to work until the 3rd.  I'm no fool - 11:59.59pm January 1st.  I have this fantastic idea of throwing an After Christmas Christmas Party because, quite frankly, there is nothing more depressing than all the hype everyone must endure starting after Halloween with very little product come December 25th.  I mean, KOIT stops the Christmas music immediately at 12:00am on December 26th.  Depressing, right?  I say no more!  Let's make the magic last for just a wee bit more.  Even if it means having a few people over for a cocktail.  At least it isn't the abrupt end to another holiday season like it is every year.  Oh wait.  There's New Year's Eve.  Meh.
              

This image best captures how we all probably feel the day after Christmas.

Cabbage Soup Diet...

I wouldn't recommend the Cabbage Soup Diet to anyone who enjoys life.  It simply sucks the fun out of it.  Not only does it sound boring, its name literally means boring.  Seriously, look it up.  I mean, the name itself spurs images of nothing interesting at all - "cabbage", "soup", and "diet".  Put them together and...viola! Instant nap.  

Don't bother.  It sucks.

So I went on this diet for two reasons.  One, because Michaela said I should, and two, because I didn't have a better idea when I said I was going to "Grab the bull by its horns" (meaning, reclaim my life after yet another year of starting work and not wanting to).  I swear that if I had a new job, things would be different.  But I don't.  However, now there's talk of Toronto, and Emeryville, and SSRI's, and blood pressure medications, and cholesterol...  I'm telling you, I think I might have to start using Cabbage Soup as a metaphor (or a simile - I can never remember which) for life.  There is nothing more simple than Cabbage Soup, and honestly, I wish my life were that simple sometimes.  Just not as bland.  

Charlie Brown just told Lucy about his Amazing Cabbage Soup.

I'm actually sitting at my desk that we are borrowing from Minette because it doesn't fit in her apartment, waiting for Curtis' flight to land.  I was supposed to be napping, but my brain kept racing and my lower intestines kept grumbling.  I am actually killing time until I have to head on over to the airport.  And what was on my mind?  Cabbage Soup.  Tomorrow is day number 4, which means I get to eat 8 bananas and drink loads of skim milk.  I truly do not know why I am following this diet other that the fact that I needed something to follow that had rules and guidelines, cuz we all know there ain't any at work.  Kachow!

Gross.

God I hate bananas.  

Here I go...

I am about to embark on a journey with none other than Connie and Al Lavoie - my parental figures.  Yes, they started a (what seemed like a forever-in-the-planning-phase) cross-country tour the other day.  I had told them that if they were interested, I could fly out and meet them somewhere in the good ol' U.S. of A., seeing that I am unemployed during the summer.  I love road trips and have crossed the country 5 times already, so this should be a piece of cake.  I figure they could use a break from each other as well.  They thought it was a great idea and so I bought a flight.  They have no clue what's in store for them...and I'm sure I have no clue what's in store for me as well...

This image is an artist's rendering of what will be our whip for the journey.  It's a good thing that it's an American-Made-In-Mexico car.  I expect a lot of honking and "America's #1!" being yelled at us as we drive through the middle of nowhere.  

I am meeting Connie and Al in Rapid City, South Dakota.  Why, you may foolishly ask?  Well, ever since I was a child, my favorite movie has been Close Encounters of the Third Kind.  I actually watched it the other day in preparation for the trip.  You know...research.  I have always wanted to go to Devil's Tower in Wyoming, but the last time I was to have a close encounter with it (pun intended), it was late at night and Michaela and I were on a tight schedule.  We did, however, find time to sneak in a rather uncomfortable tour of the Mormon Temple grounds in Salt Lake City a few days later.   Ok, back to the impending road trip...

I expect this to totally happen.  If not, I will be requesting that we get our Senior Citizens Entrance Fee reimbursed.

Rapid City should not be overlooked by anyone.  It is close to some other great sites like Wall Drug (where one can buy one or more jackalopes), Mount Rushmore (where one can buy a magnet), and Crazy Horse (where one will go broke paying the entrance fee).  Been there, done all that, but wouldn't mind it one more time - and now this time with my father, who will make us sit through every movie and read every placard annoying me and my mother completely.  WHAT AM I DOING???  I am the type of person who can do the Met in New York in 1 hour.  Have you been to the Met?  I think that might be a record.  

A real-life jackalope.

Could you imagine...

It'll get there.  Especially with that CARAYZEE entrance fee.

The main destination for me though is Devil's Tower, and I will make Connie and Al watch every movie and read every placard there.  After that, it's the open road.  No real destination to speak of...well, except Oakland at some point, which is probably never a destination to begin with (however my thoughts on this are evolving, like Barack's on gay marriage).  Someone mentioned Glacier National Park in Montana, and I'm sure my father will want a potato from Idaho, even though he can get one at Stop and Shop.  I can hear it now..."It's not the same!".  Yes, I don't know what is in store.  I haven't been trapped in a car with my parents for years.  I'm sure my mom will have to stop every 30 minutes to go pee.  Or my dad will want to stop at every roadside stand to see what he can get there that he can't get in Fall River.  

(Nuf said.)

Yes, I will be refilling my Valium prescription before this trip.

Life With Wine...

It has been a few months since I can honestly say that I have been living a life without wine.  I have been living a life WITH wine and loving every minute of it!  But, since I am in a challenge with Ms. Tanya Derkash to lose some weight, I have no choice but to either not eat food (Bizzy's suggestion at breakfast this morning), or not drink anything, exercise, and watch what I eat (my suggestion), or live off of vodka for a month and a half (I think Bizzy's other suggestion that might have gone along with her not-eating-anything suggestion).  All I know is that Curtis told me this morning that he thinks Tanya is going to win, and you know what?...that is going to make me try even harder.  Oh, I like a challenge.  I then went to breakfast at The Ramp with Sofia and a bunch of people and ordered a bacon, avocado, and cheddar omelet.  Clearly that challenge will start after breakfast.  Sofia did her best to get me to eat yogurt and fruit, but The Ramp had a very limited menu I noticed.  Sofia had clam chowder and a mimosa - the breakfast of champions.

Capote Velho.  One of my favorites.  Sold in a 1L bottle, not like those pathetic 750ml bottles everything else comes in.

Yes, ever since that night of my birthday where I was tooling around the Mission with a newly acquired sword umbrella, I have been imbibing the good stuff.  I can't say for sure how long this next teetotaling bender will last, but I have to win this challenge.  That damn Tanya went running this morning.  Not to worry though.  She was probably working off the three bottles she chugged last night anyway.  So we're even Steven.    











































I think I am in the OVERWEIGHT category according to this chart.

So here I am, writing to pass the time as I don't have fun anymore because I need to give up the good stuff because I am a beached whale and need to beat my female friend at a weight loss challenge.  There is one or two events coming up that I will have to indulge however.  I am not refraining at my barbecue, nor another friend's barbecue.  That would simply be ridiculous.  Until my next moment of boredom...

Very Important Update...

UPDATE: For anyone at all interested in my FIAT saga (Sofia?  Maybe?), I received a call earlier today.  The call was from FIAT of Concord.  They were calling to let me know that my FIAT Cinquecento (that's Five Hundred to you non-Italians) has arrived and is available for me to pick up.  I thanked this gentleman for the information and told him that I already picked it up a couple of weeks ago.  He then apologized and said they never updated their list and should probably do so.  This could be the start of something really fun and interesting...  I mean, I've never had Honda, Nissan, or Toyota call me for anything after purchasing one of their cars.  Maybe they're just jerks.

A week to...

UPDATE TO THIS UPDATE: I started this entry a week ago and got lazy.  I corrected the dates and such, but as you will soon see, it isn't as good a read because there was a St. Patrick's Day/Minette's Birthday Miracle that took place.  It ranks way up there with, like, Christ walking on water, or maybe when he fed a bunch of people with only a few fish sticks and some stale Wonder Bread.  Or maybe my favorite - when he turned water into a fine Southeast Australian Shiraz, which I am thinking about asking East Bay Water District to consider doing as well...


UPDATE: "A week to ten days" is what I was told two weeks ago by the FIAT corporate offices.  It was also what I was told one week ago when I called the local dealership to find out if they had any information on when my car would arrive.  "A week to ten days."  Four weeks ago, I was told by Mindy (or whoever the hell it was that answered the phone) that I should expect a call by the dealer "this week", which was three weeks ago ( which never happened) and delivery of the car "sometime in the spring of 2011".  Then she corrected herself and said "17 to 21 days".  I think I was getting the runaround.  Sofia has sort of mentioned that she has lost interest and/or faith.  Me?  I decided to just get used to it, and to think of it as something purely Italian.  Now the only thing I need to do is figure out just what the hell I mean by that statement.

"A week to ten days."  This is a photo that comes up when you search Google images for a week to ten days.

All the lying and deceiving that I went through came to an abrupt end.  Donna 468 finally arrive two days ago, and being the poster-child for procrastination (although Carley is probably a thousand times worse), I am now finally getting to writing about it here two days later.  It was truly a St. Patrick's Day/Minette's Birthday Miracle that was 6-7 long months in the making.  Months of obsessively searching on the internet for information, drunk-dialing FIAT corporate and the dealership - it can all come to and end.  Finally.

procrastinate  (prəʊˈkræstɪˌneɪt, prə-)
— vb
	to put off or defer (an action) until a later time; delay And by the way, she's perfect.

In other news, I have decided to take the plunge and apply for a new job.  I'm bored with my current job and need a change.  That's right.  Change.  I'm actually looking for change.  So stuff it!  (Those strong words are for all you people who say I have Asperger's.)  It's way too early to speculate as to what I may find as my new job, but if I have to go another year in my current position, you will find written on my tombstone sometime around mid-October of the next school year, "Here lies Mr. Lavoie.  He died of boredom.  That is all."  I am applying for a job within the same school district I already work for, however their on-line application process is redonculously long.  I started filling it out a week ago and I hope to finish it this weekend.  That's if I don't procrastinate.






Final thought: Curtis ate a blood orange last night before going to bed.  I woke up today with the kitchen looking like murder was afoot.  

I found it...

Again, a great idea.  Just not executed very well (in my humble opinion).

Update and Lesbarus...

UPDATE: I am getting tired of waiting for the FIAT, so I called their 800 number that is actually an 888 number again this morning to get the 411 on when I can expect the delivery of the FIAT.  Johnny, or whoever the guy was, assured me that the cars are all on trucks being delivered to the dealerships as we speak.  He said to expect a call this week to make arrangements for pickup.  I'll believe that when I get the call.  Sofia has already tuned in to something else as she has lost all hope of me ever seeing this car.

Take a gooooooood look at this photo...

And this photo...

And this photo.  Notice anything?  ANYTHING?

While I'm on the subject of automobiles, today I went with my friend Rosa to go car shopping.  She is in the market for a Lesbaru (Subaru), or possibly her friend-of-a-friend's Volkswagen Jetta.  My dear friend Sofia, always looking out for my best interest, told Rosa that I would be a great person to help her find a car, as I have made such reliable car purchases myself, including a 1989 Saab and soon-to-be said FIAT.  This makes me an undisputed expert on automobile quality and rational purchasing practices.  

This guy definitely drives a BMW.

Our first stop today was at BMW of San Francisco.  You could slice through the pretension with a knife the second you drove onto their lot.  I hate BMW drivers and the people who sell them to them.  Anyway, we were there for a Lesbaru from their used car collection stashed in the rear of the lot somewhere near the dumpster, I'm sure.   After the car almost didn't start, and right before we took the car for a test drive, Rosa had to pee.  Apparently at BMW of San Francisco, they make this a difficult task for their customers, as they themselves do not urinate or defecate.  Ever.  The bathrooms were located somewhere on the roof.  We test-drove the car.  Nothing of interest happened, and Rosa didn't buy this Lesbaru.  I did, however, find out that Rosa will not buy any car without knowing exactly when and if the timing belt and water pump had been replaced.  It is a deal-breaker if that information is not provided.  A real deal-breaker.  Really.

Possible deal-breaker.  But I'm not sure.

After the ordeal at BMW of San Francisco, we were going to Santa Cruz to check out more Lesbarus.  We picked Carley up along the way.  And of course, we had to ride the Giant Dipper at the Boardwalk.  Rosa bailed on that part because we told her she was going to be sitting alone because Carley and I wanted to make some kind of face for the camera on the ride and then purchase the picture to add to the stack of Giant Dipper photos we have from years past.  Unfortunately, I didn't care for this one although the idea was a good one.  In it, we were pretending to text on our phones while riding the roller coaster.  I think I was so hell-bent on holding my phone so tightly so as not to lose it, I wasn't thinking of the bigger picture - the picture.  Carley came out looking great.  I on the other hand look like an idiot.  And of course as I look for the photo to scan into the computer, I can't find it.  You'll just have to take my word for it.  Horrible.  Not my best work.

One of our more memorable rides.

We then went to check out two more Lesbarus.  One was sold just 1 hour prior to us arriving at the dealer - and of course, it was the one that Rosa said she would have bought right away.  Curses!  We then went to check out the last one on Rosa's list.  But, since the nice-enough-guy couldn't give Rosa the information she required (well you know...when and if the timing belt and water pump had been replaced), we left empty-handed.  My blood sugar was low, which means Cranky Matt was just around the corner.  And we all know how much fun it is to be around Cranky Matt.  So, we went for food.  We (by "we", I mean "I") were in the mood for some Round Table Pizza.  

I wonder what Subaru Rosie drives?  Cuz you know she does.

On our way home, instead of playing "punch buggy", we played "check out the driver of the Lesbarus".  I think it is safe to say that rug-munching is a prerequisite to purchasing a shiny Subaru.  That, or being Lucy, Tanya, Melnick, and probably soon-to-be Rosa.  I'm not starting any rumors or anything, but isn't it strange that all of these "straight" ladies all live in San Francisco (one currently in Bernal Heights, and one formally in the Castro), AND they were all compelled to purchase a Subaru.  Just some food for thought.  Perhaps I could interest you in some bearded clams?  Or maybe hair tacos?