Category Archives: the t


You gotta love this coat. And the serious swagger this dude’s got going on. I hope the Celtics get some of their swagger back in the playoffs. Usually happens when YOU WIN GAMES, an area the team has been lacking in as of late. Also, my boyfriend predicts “a complete bloodbath” with the Knicks. (He always sounds like a seventy-year-old man when he talks about sports, complete with copious head-nodding and strange Tim Allen grunting sounds.) Do I have faith? The sportswriter in the Improper Bostonian wrote something in the recent issue like, “If they lose in the first round, I wouldn’t be surprised. If they won it all, I wouldn’t be surprised.” Well, that’s sort of a total cop-out, if you ask me. They’re old! They’re warriors! Rondo sucks! Rondo’s amazing! Kendrick Perkins where arrreeee you….

But get this: I watched the 2008 win (and essentially all the ’08 play-off games) in a bar in Allston with my friend Emma, who just found out a few days ago she got into nursing school in Austin and is REALLY excited about that. So….I’m thinking that there has to be some gas left in the tank. Right? Or, as OptimistFreak says, let’s put positive vibes out there, because hey, you CAN affect the world with your energy, and that includes Ray’s shooting touch! Sure, the risk is getting your heart broken by strained-calf Shaq and Co., but if they play well and play their hearts out, you want to say you were no negative Nancy, and that you did believe. COME ON CELTICS!!!



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This guy again…

I saw this dude at Park Street station last night. And I should have just walked up and taken his picture portrait-style, but I was a tad afraid that he would try to engage me in a long conversation/my iPhone-pictures-of-strangers habit is really getting out of hand. (I have dozens of (potentially amazing) photos I’d love to share but mostly they’re just the butts/annoyed faces of people I’m casually pretending to not stalk…) Anyhow, this guy’s been around for awhile, right? And there is just something about him, I find; something a little fascinating. Maybe it’s that he doesn’t make a lot of noise when he does he thing, but I don’t really mind the whole get-up or get-out-the-message technique he’s got going. I mean, I don’t go to church—far from it—but it’s funny to just watch everyone barrel past him like he’s a total wack job. Which he probably is. A huge one. But those signs, well, they are….eye-catching. There I am, waiting for my train home and thinking about if I’m going to eat tunafish when I get back or steal my roommate’s strange vegetarian leftovers or maybe pop some popcorn and dump peanut butter all over it, and maybe I should buy some red jeans for spring, and maybe I should have gone to college NOW and not when I was so young and STUPID, and maybe I should be grateful I don’t live in Japan right now and send some money instead of buying a damn STRAW FEDORA or something else I don’t need cause no, I’m not Diane Kruger thank you very much, and there’s this guy with his colorful sign asking me if I know if I’m going to go to Heaven when I die type of thing. I mean, DUDE, really. I already ride the T everyday. COME ON!

(So yeah, I guess I do mind him…)

Seriously, though, you gotta admire his perseverance and commitment. I feel like I’ve seen that guy doing his thing since I was twelve or something. And, you know, I have,  like, five quotes hanging around my desk right now about the importance of building habits and having character and “writer’s write” and all that stuff, but somehow it’s always almost 1 a.m. and whattyaknow I’m eating Triscuits in bed and on the HuffingtonGodDamnPost again, clicking at photos of Kate Middleton younger brother while he was in elementary school….

Yep, time for beeed.

(And sorry to not have been posting as much. Life has been sort of like the Celtics play as of late: mediocre to slightly alarming at best, emphasis on the I’m-a-waitress-and-my-feet-hurt flavor. But I have faith! And I have not given up on the Big Three!!! RAAAAAAAAAAY ALLEN/It’ll all work itself out, cause it has to!)


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Benjamin Button

I think this man on the T today was in my fifth grade class. Every boy I knew in fifth grade had a version of this jacket.

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Happy Monday!

I really love this woman. I took her photo yesterday on the way to work. It was 7:45 a.m. on a Sunday and there were probably five of us on the T, and I think we were all pretty out of it. Then, at Copley, the doors to one of the cars got stuck and would not close, so the driver of our car, sighing loudly, came down to fix it. He could not, and was soon joined by the driver from the car ahead of us, and then joined by another T employee from the actual station who came to help. After some manly chuckling and team-work (and me cursing the T in my head and staring at the ceiling and muttering like a crazy person) they got the door mostly closed, but the deal was sealed when one of them repeatedly kicked it (quite hard, might I add) just to be sure it was not going to re-open. (I was, like, really? I feel so safe now!) But the old lady in the picture loved this. I had not seen her smile yet, but she suddenly let out a joyful cackle, and said to me/no one in particular, “Yes, that’s how you fix the Russian way!” Then she nodded her head a few times in agreement. She was very pleased.

And when you add to that her amazing hair, the lining on her coat, that she was carrying a bunch of yellow flowers to God knows where… (well, hmm, maybe Church)…as much as I hate the T sometimes, I can’t imagine not riding it every day, and being able to be around people this like woman. Sometimes it’s even a nice experience.

(And in regards to whether or not she knew I was taking her picture…)

Should I feel bad? Eh, maybe a little…but the photos were taken in appreciation and good spirit, and maybe I just caught her “f, it’s so early face” and not her “leave me the f alone YA CREEP” one, because you know, I’m very tricky with my phone. (This one was snapped pre-door kicking.) So, yeah. I hope that it’s all okay.

Happy Day Light Savings Bright Morning. Hope your T ride went smoothly.


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Can you guess where?

This place reminded me of a snack shop at a hockey rink in 1989. Smelled like one too. I don’t know why I like that…

(CambridgeSide Galleria, stop stealing my money.)

Oh, and that’s Iranian Sophia Loren. ISN’T SHE BEAMING AND GORGEOUS?


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You need to sit down this may take awhiiiiiile…

I lived in New York City for awhile, and it seems like there were always people (aka freaks) singing on the subway platforms, and on the trains, and in the street, and in your face. Some were very good, some were very bad, and some were so scary that they made you want to cry and run for the hills when you heard them, all the while looking over your shoulder and wondering if maybe you were the stupid one, and perhaps this drunk chick screaming in public about bananas and glitter may actually turn out to be our next Lady Gaga. Thankfully (?), Boston doesn’t have quite so many characters, but there are a few street singers around who I like, and this guy performing at Harvard Square the other day was one of them. First of all, I greatly appreciated his music style; he wasn’t doing the normal guitar-strumming-folky-soft-spoken-Berklee-student-acoustic thing that is always happening around the Green line, and can sort of make me vomit. (Not that I don’t love the John Mayer/Jason Mraz impersonators who sing on Newburt Street every weekend when it’s sunny out. They’re sweet, and sometimes when I walk past them I like to pretend it’s 1999, and I’m starring in a Savage Garden music-video.) I loved the dated R&B noises coming out of this dude’s amp-machine thingy-majig (yeah, I don’t know anything about music equipment), and I loved his song selection: Usher’s amazing (creepy) love song “You Remind Me Of A Girl”, off the classic album 8701, which came out during my freshman year of high school, and sort of changed my life.

Happy Tuesday, and hurray for Usher cover tunes in the middle of February.

(And yes, of course I gave the dude some money; if you’re going to be annoying and stare at someone and take Hipstamatic-hipstercrap iPhone pictures of them to post on your blog later while they actually have the balls to sing in public….well, you gotta pony up some cash.)


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Hitchcock at Park Street.

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It was pretty nice out yesterday.

Now, it’s cold again. Go figure.

Here are some Valentine’s Day photos I snapped on Newbury Street on my break from work. Then, a paparazzi shot of couple dining. Creepy, yes. Also, the picture didn’t turn out that well. But the feeling is there, no? Though blurry, they still look pretty cute to me.

Ivy, strange mannequins of grown men, the always fascinating T, bears wearing dresses, and candlelight at dusk. Happy Tuesday. xoxo.

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