Dinosaurs, Nazis, and Wizards - Oh My!

I was arguing with myself on whether or not to blog about the Marathon events or not.  While I will personally never forget the events that unfolded on the day of April 15, 2013 I feel as though there has been enough reporting on the subject.  My job and my mission as it pertains to this blog isn’t to report to you what you already know or give you opinions on what I think I know…my goal is attempt to entertain you. Boston will never be the same but it is only when we assume normality that we triumph in the face of adversity and terror.  And as for anything I saw at my Mother’s 50^th (and it was a GOOD TIME) I am going to save that for the book.

So without further a due, on with the show! #BostonStrong #PrayForBoston #NiceBoatingJobAsshole

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There are NUMEROUS things that bother me about Roommate. For one thing, he has known I have been in Boston these past weeks and not ONCE did he text or e-mail asking if I was OK. He did email me…to let me know that half of the electric bill was due but other than that radio silence. I would say he is dead to me but I can’t honestly say I ever cared for him that much…but apparently I had a moment a few weeks ago…(calm down this isn’t a letter to Penthouse)

It was a Sunday night and if you follow me on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram or we actually know each other than you’ll know I do pretty much 1 thing on Sundays…drink by a pool! This is due to the fact that Arizona boasts extremely hot weather with extremely unhot people and thus I find more solice in sitting at a 5* resort drinking pina coladas and reading trashy gossip rags than I would attempting to make friends or go on dates…or play football.

Sunday nights as the towncar drops me off at the apartment, it’s safe to assume I’m probably rocked. I mean…I’ve been drinking for 10 hours at that point and all I want to do is eat a hotpocket, turn on NETFLIX and fall asleep. This Sunday was different…something went horribly wrong that I did not anticipate….I ran out of hotpockets. I had NOTHING left to make but pasta… I had no idea how much to make but I was hungry so I figured 3lbs oughtta do it.  Have you ever seen 3lbs or pasta?! Holy Fatkid Batman!!

So here I am with enough pasta to feed half of a small African country and I notice roommate in the living room.  Please keep in mind he has NO headphones in, he is not on the phone and does not look like he’s about to perform surgery so I felt no shame in “interrupting” him.

Me:

Hey, I made too much pasta…do you want any?

Roommate:

BLANK STARE PICTURE

Me:

oooooooooK.

Literally ten minutes goes by and roommate responds to my question.

Roommate:

Do you think the Nazis were a misunderstood people?

Me:

I’m sorry homo I said PAH-STAH not NAHT-ZEES I can see how you can confuse the two.

What?

Roommate:

The Nazis…do you think they were a misunderstood people?

Me:

Ummm, no?? I think people pretty much got the gist of their mission?

Roommate:

Yea, I’m just reading this fascinating paper on the theory that the Nazis as a political organizations were subsequently....

He goes to explain about his collection of Nazi books...Nazis and the Jews, Nazis and the politics of Western Europe, Nazis and the Chocolate Factory...I can't deal anymore 

Me:

Sorry, did you say you wanted food?

Roommate:

Why did you make pasta? Aren't you fat? 

Me:

I bought it for Good Friday and didn’t end up eating it then so I had it sitting around

Roommate:

Ugh, you Christians and your pagan deities…things like that make me happy to be a creationist.

Now, I am all about people having their own opinions on whatever beliefs they want…hence why we live in American (AMERICA! FUCK YEA!) but I also don’t have any respect for people like Roommate for slamming other people’s (in this case my) personal beliefs and constantly parading his “tested and true” theories on how the universe was made. In fact, most of his books that aren’t about Nazi’s are about Dinosaurs. The kid fucking loves dinosaurs and books about Dinosaurs and theories about Dinosaurs that alive today in the arctic and anything that deals with the “real” and “natural” way that the Universe has evolved.

This would all be fine and dandy and I could accept his Nazi curiosity and Dinosaur obsession if it wasn’t for the last part of his book collection series…WIZARDS.

Yup, the same guy who believes that the earth was created over billions of years and that a group of mass murderers could be classified as “misunderstood” is also a big fan of Wizards. Lord of the Rings box set? CHECK! Harry Potter collector’s edition with replica wands? CHECK! Dungeons and Dragons? CHECK and CHECK! The few times I ever offered to spend a night and have wine with him were the nights I got to learn where the fuck Middle Earth was and what the difference between a Gnome and Familiar Domain is. Needless to say we no longer have wine together.

Papa Glitter has seen first hand the over 150 books that clutter our living room. None of which I agree with, believe in, or understand. The scariest part is that all those times I think he's lying to me that he's going to play Dungeons and Dragons and I think he's really going to hook up with random dudes...I ACTUALLY think he's going to play Dungeons and Dragons!! 

We cannot possibly have a conversation that doesn't end up in discussion of Dinosaurs, Nazis and/or Wizards. 

Sample Convo 1:

Roommate:

How was your day?

Me:

Great!! I had a great show and I think my boss was impressed. You?

Roommate:

Had a meeting with a Cultist Male Minotaur Invoker and this student who was seriously, ::laughs:: a 4th Level Frost Goblin.  

Me:

Um, that's hot 

Sample Convo 2:

Roommate:

How was your day?

Me:

Pretty good! Had a great workout and I'm going on a date tonight. How was yours?

Roommate:

I just can't help but feeling like Franz Stengl! My boss just replaced me with this awful teachers aid and I'm so upset. Seirously, this place could be Sobidor and Treblinka. 

Me:

Um, that's hot...but probably not because i'm sure it's a Nazi reference 

Sample Convo 3:

Roommate:

How was your day?

Me:

Long. I'm exhausted. How was yours?

Roommate:

Speaking of things that are long, did you know that the dinosaur with the longest name was the Micropachyephalosaurus? It means "tiny headed lizard" It's fossils have been founded in China starting in the 1978 by the palaenontologist Dong.

Me:
Ha, Dong....that's hot 

…but we can’t have a TV! 

Theresa C. McGrath 1925 - 2013

Dear Readers -

In respect for the passing of my Aunt Theresa there will be no blog post this week. I do apologize and promise to resume next week. The following is her obituary which has donation information. Thank you all for your thoughts and prayers during this time.
xoxo-

Glitter

Waltham – Mrs. Theresa C. (Doherty) McGrath, of Waltham, died Tuesday, April 9, 2013 at Spaulding Rehabilitation Hospital in Cambridge. She was 87.
Theresa was born in Waltham on December 15, 1925, one of nine children born to the late Bernard and Mary (Fahy) Doherty, and was a lifelong resident. She was a graduate of Saint Mary's High School in Waltham.
After her marriage to Waltham native Gene McGrath she became a dedicated and lifelong homemaker; performing her role as wife, mother, caretaker, peacemaker and healer with unequaled poise and ability.
Whenever someone in the family, in the parish or in the neighborhood needed a helping hand, Theresa always answered their call with compassion in her heart and a smile on her face. She was a Girl Scout leader for many years and was a longtime teacher in the CCD program at Saint Charles Church. She drove cancer patients to their treatments and volunteered limitless hours for the Saint Charles Parish Bazaar. She was also a Eucharistic Minister and brought communion to the sick.
She enjoyed watching her beloved Red Sox and Bruins, sewing and knitting, and was known for her Irish-knit afghans and her many knitted Christmas stockings.
Fondly know as Nana Mac and T-Mac, Theresa will be deeply missed by all.
Her beloved husband of forty-nine years, Eugene J. McGrath, died September 22, 1996.
She leaves her daughters, Beverly Sullivan, Maureen Kiley and her husband, David, Carol LeBlanc and her husband, Camille, and Cheryl Stascavage and her husband, Alan, all of Waltham; her grandchildren, Christine McDevitt, Kate Moriarty and her husband, Michael, Patrick Sullivan, Matthew Kiley, Meghan McDevitt and her fiancé, Michael Berman, Lauren Sullivan and her fiancé, Stephen Gardner, Alison LeBlanc, Michael Kiley, Jeffrey LeBlanc, James Sullivan, Justin Stascavage and Jaclyn Stascavage; her great-granddaughter, Grace Theresa Moriarty; her brothers, Bernard Doherty and his wife, Marguerite, of Waltham, Joseph Doherty and his wife, Pauline, of West Newton and Francis Doherty and his wife, Jean, of Waltham and many nieces and nephews.
Theresa was also the mother of the late Colleen McDevitt; mother-in-law of the late James Sullivan and a sister of the late William Doherty, John Doherty, Mary Dodson, Winifred Doherty and Anne McHugh
Family and friends will honor and remember Theresa's life by gathering for calling hours in The Joyce Funeral Home, 245 Main Street (Rte. 20) Waltham on Thursday, April 11th, from 4 to 8 p.m. and again at 9 a.m. on Friday morning before leaving in procession to Saint Charles Borromeo Church, 51 Hall Street, Waltham where her Funeral Mass will be celebrated at 10 a.m. Burial will follow in Calvary Cemetery, Waltham.
Memorial donations may be made to Only A Child, P.O. Box 990885, Boston, MA 02199 or to Saint Charles Borromeo Church, 30 Taylor Street, Waltham, MA 02453

Los Futbol de Homos

Update:
Ok, first off...I don't generally believe in miracles but I have to say that this past week has really changed my view on that. After my blog post last week my aunt's health dramatically began to improve. You sent emails, facebook messages, texts, and presents from across the world to help garner strength for her and I'm VERY happy to announce that she has since left ICU and is recovering steadily so THANK YOU!! Ps- to the people from Bolivia and Sweeden who sent me gifts, while I am grateful, I am a bit concerned as to where you got my address of employment. Please note, if you are planning to stalk and murder me you will have to do it during regular business hours.

Anywho...on with the show

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You'd be surprised how often I get asked the question "Which Spice Girl do you have the most in common with?" This is always tricky for me since I think that in some ways I'm a bit Posh, a bit Scary, act a bit like a Baby and would take ANY opportunity to wear a super tight Union Jack Dress.

But I think it's awful when people say "well you can't be all of them...you wouldn't be Sporty." And I have to say I take great offense to that. True, growing up as a morbidly obese pre-teen with a vitamin D deficiency because I stayed inside for days playing Turok:Dinosaur Hunter may not have been the way my parents envisioned it, but by high school I had a few years of Hockey under my belt...yet I was still fairly stocky as I went into young adulthood.




I'm sexy and I know it

In high school I signed up for track. Now I know what your thinking, why would a 5'2 290lb asthmatic blob sign up for track? and the answer is simple: there was a guy I had a crush on that was also doing track and hormones will make you do some fucked up shit.  Of course, I never actually ran. No no, I was the only Varsity Track Member who only competed in shot put because well...I was an Ox.

Cut to college and I was rowing as 8 Stern on the Boston College crew team...talk about a great place to pick up guys!! Sadly, after my freshman year my Russian coach (Boris) told me that in order to stay on the team I would have to grow 4" or lose 55lbs in order to balance out the boat. This is how I entered what my sister would call the "Mary-Kate Olsen" years. I lost about 40lbs in a matter of months and rather than praising me as a Jenny Craig success story, my family decided I had an eating disorder.

Post college I found Boston Gay Sports and I will say, without tooting my own horn, that I became QUITE athletic. By no means am I saying that I actually knew what the fuck I was doing, but I looked good in the uniform and I brought oodles of team spirit to each game! From softball to football, I took every opportunity to hit the field like it was a catwalk and I was Naomi Campbell.

The following (7) Photos are courtesy of Patrick Lentz Photography



Care to play ball?

Now, while I always had the best attitude when it came to playing...I can say, without any regret, that my fashion choice were somewhat questionable...

There was the standard face full of Glitter

The face full of glitter with carpi's

the fur

the poncho and leggings

the sequins jacket

the stevie nicks "white winged dove" scarf

and some other questionable decisions



 But wardrobe aside, being on a team was something I really missed when I first moved to the desert because I couldn't find any gay organized sports. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not heterophobic...I'm just not that good at sports and enjoy the social aspect of being on a team and showing up in fun outfits more than actually playing which was why i was perfect for any team because I never bitched about how much playing time I got (unless people were sick and I had to play the whole game...then I bitched).

So the other day I was talking to this guy I'm kinda sorta dating...I don't want to jinx it or jump the gun...but I'm pretty sure we're getting married. We were talking about this very subject and he says "You should join the Tucson Gay Football League, it's open play right now and all you have to do is show up and they'll put you on a team"

HOT DAMN!! Open play on a gay football team means with any luck, I MIGHT have to run up the field once! I figured there would probably be a bunch of U of A guys, some Raytheon people and perhaps even some military men so I dressed accordingly...jock strap, short shorts, rainbow New Balances, tank top and Dior sunglasses...I was ready for some football!!  

Saturday morning arrives and boyfriend is working so I make my way to the fields excited to meet new people and introduce them to Glitter Spice. I see the guys on the field and park my car, put my headphones on and casually sasche to the fields. As I approach I start to notice something is wrong...not wrong...just different. Obviously they are all starring at me (mission accomplished), some are laughing (standard) and most just look confused. But everyone was kind of...fat and unattractive...not what I'm used to seeing in gay organized sports. 

Guy 1:

You here for football?

Me:

I am!

Guy 2:

You know the rules?

Me:

I do, yea, I've played for like 3 years

Guy 1:

Ok great, you're on Juan's team

Me:

Sweet! Sean is Juan in Spanish. So ya know...takes Juan to know Juan!

(crickets...fat people have no sense of humor) 

They ask my what position I've played and I say "Rusher" and we get into the huddle. I always hate the huddle because it's always like their speaking Spanish...in this case they actually were so it didn't matter I didn't understand any of it. 

QB:

Seeeeeeet hut!

I go running towards the QB like I have done for 10,000 games before this and something very different happens...before I knew it was I was being hurled to the ground by a 6'4 380 lb Mexican and I go barreling towards the ground convinced I have ruptured my kidneys.

Me:

UMMMMM excuse me!?!? Penalty?! Flag?! He just tackled me!!

Ref:

Yea....and?

Me:

AND?!! You don't tackle people in gay football. what kind of crap is this!?

Guy 1:

Well, this isn't gay football.

Me:

What?

Guy 2:

Yea, the gay league plays during the fall. This is intermural contact football.

Me:

memo to self, dump fiancee

Oh, I'm sorry. I thought this was the gay league.

Guy 1:

No it's cool...you're still welcome to play...we're short a couple guys anyways this week so we could really use the extra man power.

Me:

So I would be on the field the whole game during contact football with fat guys while dressed like a go-go dancer in the middle of the ghetto?

Absolutely! I'd love to still pla- oooooooowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

Guy 1:

What's the matter?!

Me:

I think I twisted my ankle during that tackle...I should probably ice it....at home...with a bottle of champagne.

Guy 2:

Aw man, Ok bro, you take care of yourself!

Me:

And you...run a little bit more...

So that was my first/only experience playing Football in Tucson. I'm not sure what the future will hold in terms of me playing of the gay league during the fall, but one thing is for sure..."running" and "tackling' have no place in the world of football in my opinion. I think I'll just go back to blending in as a spectator.