Gosh. The Green Line, can you believe it? What a week to be in the PR department for the MBTA. Yikes.

Thanks for NONE of your concern. No, I don’t ever take the Green Line, but I could have used a few little comments or emails from people who wanted to make sure I was still alive. WHATEVER. NOT BITTER.

I know you come here, not out of concern for my daily well-being, but to read gruesome and revealing posts about me and my marriage. Oh, honey, I check the Google Analytics, and I know that’s what you want. So let me at least pander to the audience momentarily.

This morning Matty drove me to the T station to be a real peach and save me the mile walk. I was in my typical not-a-morning-person mood, and he struck up a conversation about the weird dream that he had last night.

Matt: I dreamed that I almost met Ed Cherubino. I was checking in to a hotel and they told me that to get to my room I should take the elevator to the 17th floor. When I arrived, Ed Cherubino would be there to greet me.

Me: Who’s Ed Cherubino?

Matt: A radio commentator.

Me: I don’t really understand why you’re so excited. Who IS he?

Matt: A radio commentator. Think of just any radio commentator and what it would be like to meet them. Who’s a radio commentator you would recognize?

Me: Howard Stern.

Matt: Ok, so maybe not. How about a TV newscaster? What TV newscaster would you recognize?

Me: Barbara Walters.

Matt: Why are you bursting my bubble?

Me: I just have no frame of reference as to who Ed Cherubino is. I’m sorry.

By then we had arrived, so I quickly kissed him and hopped out of the car. Good thing the Red Line didn’t break down on my commute. Oh the irony of Matt hearing about THAT from Ed Cherubino.

The median cost for a house in Massachusetts dropped last month to a LOW of $305,000.  For kicks and giggles, I wanted to see what I could buy with this money in the other places I have lived: Columbus, OH, Washington, DC, and South Jersey.

This is what I can get in Boston. 365 square feet in the best place in America. Extra tasty crispy.

If you’re wondering whether or not you should rent or buy, check out this sweet calculator that my dad sent to me. According to that, Matty and I are still saving money by renting (from the landlord who doesn’t cash our checks) and will be for the next 6 years. Besides, with what I’m paying to spay my dog I’d never have cash to replace the water heater.

This totally does not even do it justice. I walked from Boston Common into Cambridge, took two different buses, and got home two hours after I set out. Needless to say, there was no trip to the groomer but a very very good excuse to pick up Chipotle on the way home.

Hope your Memorial Day weekend was nice. We headed down to Baltimore with Berlin vomiting throughout our southbound drive, and requiring us to stop three times before even exiting Connecticut. When we didn’t have to stop for Berlin, we had to stop for me because I drank too much coffee, once again. Matt’s fuse was quickly burning out, and I saw glimmers of domestic violence in his eyes as he contemplated killing both of the women in the vehicle. I still have yet to figure out why he spared us.

On the 9 hour drive home, Berlin held in her food because we hadn’t fed her in twelve hours. But this time I was the one feeling carsick, which NEVER happens because I have a stomach of steel. I’m not sure who was happiest to pull into the driveway last night, Berlin because she could run in the park off her leash, Matt because he could lay down in the park with a happy dog and without his wife, or me… because I had to pee since Hartford but held it in so as not to stop the car yet again.

I’m starting to steel myself for tomorrow – the day that Berlin gets spayed. Matt has agreed to hurry home after work so I don’t have to pick her up alone and hear the 15 minutes of instructions on how I need to clean her stitches landing me promptly on the veterinarian’s office floor in a faint, and perhaps a pool of my own vomit. I remember when I insanely had Mojo’s front claws removed, and the emotional trauma that I endured watching him limp around the house in agony. At one point I curled up on the couch and started bawling because HE HADN’T PURRED IN OVER TWENTY-FOUR HOURS, AND I AM THE MEANEST PERSON ON THE FACE OF THE EARTH FOR DOING THIS TO HIM! I’m pretty sure we have a picture of me in this state of despair… Yes, here I am sitting in a Xerox box Mojo enjoyed sleeping in, mourning the loss of his claws and general happiness.

In the case of Berlin, Matt has explained to me over and over again that REMOVING HER UTERUS is the most humane option for her. My guilt complex will not let me accept this. But I’m trying to make the best of it, hoping to schedule a trip to the groomer this evening so she can at least LOOK GOOD before going into surgery. I’m hoping it will make her look less pitiful in recovery and will draw attention away from her shaved belly. I’ll post pictures, both with and without… the lampshade.

My coworker, who knows that I consider Garrison Keilor to be lewd and detestable, created this beautiful artwork for me. It is a veritable Picasso in my eyes and deserves it’s own line of skreened t-shirts. Thanks for making my day, Ben. And a happy Memorial Day weekend to you all.

Last night we ordered Chinese but as we don’t really have “a place” yet, we had to hunt around a bit. In the inappropriate words of my mom, I was “going down” so Matt came to the rescue and called in our order. Here’s the side of the conversation that I heard…

Matt: I’d like to place an order for pickup… No, I’d like to pick it up at your restaurant. <<LONG PAUSE>> Okay, could I have an order of boneless spare ribs? Darlin, no boneless spare ribs tonight.

Me: Okay, how about sesame chicken?

Matt: An order of sesame chicken… Babe, would orange chicken work?

Me: Do they have moo goo gai pan?

Matt: You guys have moo goo gai pan? <<LONG PAUSE>> Hun, he’s never heard of that. Okay, do you have your menu online? Never mind. Thanks, have a good night.

After texting Google we found a place right around the corner that had actually HEARD of moo goo gai pan. It was good. I think we’ll order from there again.

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Totally unrelated: Berlin learned how to SIT last night! IN LIKE THREE MINUTES! All I did was put a treat in the Kong and push down on her butt a few times. We’ll see if it sticks, but I’m pretty hopeful.