The Chickpea Arrives

Why, it's the Chickpea himself. Jasper Quiren entered the world at 2:12 AM on Thursday July 14, 2005. He weighed 6 lbs. 15 oz. He was 20 inches long. Yay Chickpea!

Moved in

I'm so happy to have friends that aren't afraid of physical labor. In a scant two hours, a crew of 12 moved Jen and I (and the Chickpea) down four flights of stairs into a rental truck and down to the new house. I want to thank all of them for their relentless effort and ingenious methods of shoving a boxspring up the narrow stairs at the new place. You guys rock and we owe you a huge debt of gratitude.

The house is still mostly in boxes. The Chickpea's room is mostly set up and our bedroom is not too far off. The downstairs looks like the warehouse full of boxes at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark. I'd take a picture, but I don't know where my camera is. (Probably in a box, with the Ark.)

My proudest moment as a homeowner came while ordering pizza the other night. The guy asked me, "What apartment number?" I said, "It's a single family home." Actually, I'm prouder of the "family" part. Chickpea, it's ok to come out now. We're in your home.

London Calling

We woke up at the new house this morning, on an air matress in the living room, to the meowing of our confused cat who spent his first night here and to the terrible news of explosions in London.

I immediately sent mail to A., who now lives in London with her husband, only to find she'd already sent out an email to all of us who would be concerned for them upon seeing the news. Luckily, her husband was late to to the office, and she'd been working at home. Not everyone was so lucky.

I love the British. And from blog of the alternative paper, The London Line, here's another reason to love them.

Ken Livingstone got it exactly right, in his immensely powerful speech, when he said that the terrorists would fail. Because they have failed already. We're pissed off, we're moping, we've been hooked all day to every news source we could find and we've been deeply concerned about loved ones. But we are not, fucking not, terrorised.

For us, tomorrow will dawn and we'll go about our business unafraid. But for those who planned and carried out these attacks, the best they can hope for is a life on the run, hunted forever, never knowing who will betray them, never knowing from which direction justice might come.

You lose, you cunts. Now - to the pub.

Another email questionaire

I got another one of these things. As with last time, I'm not playing it straight. This time, one answer is mine, the other is Flavor Flav's:

1. What time did you get up this morning? 6:15. Noon. At least that's what it said on the clock I was wearing at the time. You know what time it is.

2. Diamonds or pearls? Diamonds. Pearls don't go with my bling. Pearl, despite the fact they're a little girly.

3. What was the last film you saw at the cinema? Batman Begins. Why does Katie Holmes talk out of the side of her mouth? Did she have a stroke at the Scientology Center? Rize. Love the clowning, boooooyyyyy!

4. What is your favorite TV show? Strange Love. Strange Love.

5. What did you have for breakfast? Eggs Benedict. Count Mutherf*ckin' Chocula.

6. What is your middle name? K. Flava Flav, got no middle name. I ain't got the time.

7. What is your favorite food? Cha siu bao. BBQ ribs got the flava, the flava, the flava.

8. What foods do you dislike? Tomatoes got the funky flava. Ginseng soup. It's supposed to be medicinal.

9. What is your favorite chip flavor? Chocolate, like me. Baked Ruffles Cheddar and Sour Cream.

10. What is your favorite CD at the moment? The demos for the new Flava Flav!!! Shake the Sheets by Ted Leo and Pharmacists.

Infernal Affairs

Jen's friend from high school, Bill, and his family, were driving through town from Atlanta to Maine and stopped in for dinner the other night. We decided to take them to New Shanghai in Chinatown. Walking from our parking spot to the restaurant, we walked in front of a shop window that said "XXX Adult Entertainment." There were three members of the Chinatown police watch taking pictures of themselves in front of the sign. I felt terrible bringing my pregnant wife, our friends and their three little girls past such a place.

Above the window was a sign that said Ching Insurance Agency. What the hell was going on here? This wasn't here two weeks ago. Chinatown has fought against the porn industry for years. The old Combat Zone existed cheek to jowl with Chinatown for years here in Boston. As in most cities, the internet and DVDs have eliminated the need for a porn district and the Combat Zone is down to practically nothing.

It turns out that the sign is part of a movie set. I nearly forgot that they're filming The Departed in town. Now it all makes sense.

Home

Wow. It seems like a long time since I was able to sit down at a computer. Wednesday, we closed on the house. We had a very quick walkthrough with the old owners of the house and had the 7 keys to the place explained to us. I'm gonna have to get a Palm Pilot to carry around with me to keep it all straight. Which lock do I wiggle? Which one turns the opposite way?

After signing what seemed like 100 sheets of paper, our lawyers declared us real and actual homeowners. We drove back to the rental and rounded up the first batch of boxes (mostly the Chickpea's stuff). With YM's help, we loaded up the Scion and drove to the new Pussycat Assassins World HQ.

We're going to be moving slowly over the next week, with a large crew of friends helping out next Saturday, the 9th to get all the big heavy things. This transitional phase is always weird. Anytime you reference "home" you have to clarify which one you mean. Jen always means the new place. As for me, I'm not sure which I mean when I say it. Maybe "home" is somewhere in the 1.5 miles in between.