Dear Mom, I’m doing just fine in Colorado without a gun

“You hear what happened in Colorado, at that movie theater?” The carpenter working on my Mom’s house stood there looking at me and dangling his paint-smattered hammer.

I said I did, then internally questioned whether I looked like the type of person to ignore national news in favor of reading People Magazine. Probably my hair. Anyway, we were standing in the middle of the living room with my Mom. She had just told the carpenter that I was leaving today, making the move from Boston to Colorado for a change of scenery that I’ve thought about making for a long time.

This is the state of Massachusetts, or as I like to call it “the state that beckons Europe to come get in the van to play with its puppy”

“Let me tell you,” he started, planting his feet apart on the paper-covered wood floor. “Those shootings never would have happened if there were tighter gun laws in this country. It’s ridiculous! Any Joe can go down to Walmart and pick himself up a [insert gun name here — frankly I don’t remember what type of gun he was referring to but I remember using Context Clues to understand that he was talking about a gun].”

I could see that he wanted me to agree with him, because that’s what people on vague/poorly researched political tangents want you to do.

Instead I decided to say what I was thinking.

“I don’t think gun laws would have stopped him, I think he’s just crazy. If he didn’t have guns he probably would have found out some other way to kill a bunch of people.”

The guy had that glassy-eyed, far-off, ‘the-government-is-screwing-us-those-sons-of-bitches’ look that I’ve grown accustomed to as a child of a giant, Irish, middle class family. I knew that face well, and there was no way to reason with it.

Later, I said goodbye to my hair elastic-obsessed cat Ponyo and filled up my water bottle in the kitchen sink. My Mom and I hugged and walked out the door, said a 20-minute goodbye in which she scheduled me to come back for New Year’s, then I had to run inside to get a banana I had left on the kitchen counter.

I bumped into the carpenter in the kitchen. “You know what you need to do?” he said. “Buy a gun.”

I laughed. Then straightened my face because he was serious. “Are you serious? Why?”

“Colorado isn’t like it is here. You go hiking, there are mountain lions and black bears everywhere in those mountains. You need to protect yourself. I’m telling you, buy a gun. And you never know what type of situation you might get into out there when you’re all alone and female.”

I said I’d think about it, and silently appreciated his flexibility concerning gun laws, which apparently should be adapted to different situations.

Looking back, I now realize that the carpenter had painted my Mom a beautiful picture of me being ripped to shreds by wolverines and velociraptors after I innocently decided to hike up a mountain without a gun. Or getting beaten up in a dark alley somewhere, gun-less, and crying out “WHY DIDN’T I LISTEN TO HIMMMM!”

Just to let you know, Mom, the most intimidating animal I’ve seen so far out here while hiking has been a chipmunk with no concept of personal space. At one point he did try to bite my toe, but I came down the mountain unscathed. And yesterday, something bit my right ankle. I’ll admit, after I got bitten I spent the next half hour waiting for the spider/rattlesnake’s poison to travel up to my heart and paralyze me. But it ended up being a red ant bite (so someone told me). You can tell the carpenter that I’m doing just fine without a gun.

Happy Saint Paddy’s Day kid

Do you love our Boston accents?

Video circa 2007. That year, my friends and I ditched the legendary South Boston Saint Patrick’s Day parade. We ditched it this year too (it was Sunday). Instead my best friend Katie and I decided to take advantage of the sweltering 59-degree-day by driving out to Castle Island. Which, like the parade, is in South Boston. I don’t know why we thought there would be parking. There wasn’t.

We may be from the biggest college town in America, but that doesn’t mean we’re the smartest cookies in the knife drawer. :)

Inauguration: You 1.8 million think you’re sooooo cool

Watching the Inauguration parade in DC

Videos are sprinkled throughout. (Let’s face it, Interneter. I know you. You’re going to ignore the text and go straight to my videos. I’m okay with that. I wrote this mainly for myself and for Jenn Berry, who’s in England, and made this trip happen for me.)

Premier Bus Lines deposited us onto the mean streets of DC at 5:30 in the morning. (By “Premier” they must mean “Comparable to sitting on a moonbounce while children are jumping”). The sky was black, the moon was thumbnail-like, and the Capitol dome was brightly looming in the distance. It was the first and last time I would see a government monument. http://www.myspace.com/suspensefulmusic

Vendors scampered about arranging their Obama hand-puppets and Obama air fresheners (“They smell like change, 3 dollars”) on tables. Normal people were out too, alot of them; it was kind of like a vampire movie. Mental note: write screenplay for Political Interview with the Vampire, starring Denzel Washington as Barack Obama and Danny DeVito as Anderson Cooper.

Jenn, I REALLY regret not buying you this

We got breakfast at the Hyatt Hotel. Coincidently, out of 100 tables, we sat at the table the college freshmen behind us on the bus had sat.

Me: “Which one of you decided to eat Doritos at 2 o’clock in the morning?” [The three freshmen look at eachother]

College Freshmen #1: “Me”

Me: “FUCKKKK YOUUUUUUU”

We walked away to get coffee and I said to Greg ‘That’s not an awkward breakfast or anything.” Greg’s eye twitched a little so I know he heard me and laughed on the inside. He was pretty much asleep still. Hey thanks, Premier Bus Lines! Anytime I want my boyfriend turned into a shell of his former self, I’ll call you.

We had our awkward breakfast and went outside to test out personal space boundaries for about 2 and a half hours, eventually rounded a corner, and ended up at the same place we started.

I’d like to give props for the creativity that others exhibited for trying to move through the giant, lovable, masses of Obamafans:

1. Lady holding up a plastic police badge: “POLICE, I got a sick lady with me, let me through”

2. Crowd: “MOVE – THAT – BUS”

3. Southern old lady jamming her Prohibited-Item walker into peoples’ backs (if it was my back I would have been REALLY MAD! but ultimately would have DONE NOTHING! as you may have learned from my old people entry.)

Hours later, a cop told us that they stopped letting people into the Mall, due to “a water main break” which immediately sounded like code for “Bomb threat: time to shit pants”. We found an Irish bar with 10 TVs (shout-out to The Irish Channel) where we gathered with other people who didn’t get into the ceremony. Even people with tickets were there. Today, a little sentence in USA Today (jinxyouowemeasoda!) explained that the Purple Ticket gate was never opened because Barry down at Metal Detector Deliveries R Us delivered to “Mashmington, DC” by accident.

We drove 11 hours to get there, to watch it all happen on TV. Whatevs, even the 1.8 million people who got into the actual ceremony ended up watching it on TV (see below), but in the arctic cold (as CNN said, “Temperature in DC: 25 degrees, feels like 11,” to which I remarked “Where do they come up with that measurement?” and some big black guy laughed.)

A picture of a picture of a picture.. wait I think I just blew your mind

I talked to people from San Diego, West Virginia, North Carolina, and heard the legend of The People That Came from Ethiopia (What? I know..) This was the reason I wanted to come to DC most. I wanted to experience history alongside the other people who dropped everything to come out there and be a part of it all.

And besides seeing the Reverend Al Sharpton, I even saw Brink…

Editorialists, bloggers, and comic strip artists can satire the SHIT out of the nation’s optimism towards Obama’s presidency. Why not put on some black eyeliner, line up your Taking Back Sunday albums, and make a cozy spot in the corner to cry in? Don’t forget to Twitter about how life sucks every half hour.

Please excuse my cold sore:

DVD Extras

DC’s Reaction to Bush during the Inauguration:

DC’s “Chinatown” . . I think they were hinting at something: