At least I have the internet to remind me to ROTFLOL.

The 5 Most Bad Ass Presidents Of All Time

I'm so happy John Quincy Adams ranks ABOVE Andrew Jackson, you have no idea. EAT IT OLD HICKORY!!!

Some random quotes from the list:
"The bullet, by the by, remained in Jackson's body for 19 years because, we assume, Jackson knew that time spent removing the bullets would just fall under the general category of "time not dueling," Jackson's least favorite category."

And my friend [ profile] rathbandu and I ENTIRELY just had this conversation too:

"JFK's sexual conquests allegedly include Marilyn Monroe, Audrey Hepburn, Jayne Mansfield, Angie Dickenson, Brazilian actress Florinda Bolkan, famous burlesque stripper, and rap name pioneer Blaze Starr. There are even rumors that he also had sex with his insanely hot wife once in a while too."
I need to add, since this work is being conducted for a private developer, none of this is supposed to be public knowledge. All information should be kept confidential.

…Well, that may put a damper on this post.

As some of you might know, I recently send my resume to an archaeology consultants company in hopes for jobs and better things. While there wasn't a full time position, there were several temporary positions that needed to be filled. So, I ran to Target, threw all of my hours for the next two weeks up onto the switch board, started calling some favors people there owe me, and tomorrow I'm driving up to Fishkill NY to work on a two week excavation of a Revolutionary War-era site. I'll be working Mon-Fri, 8 hour days. The motel is being paid for by the company, and the fact I have the weekend off means there are two chaps upstate that are POSITIVELY going to be getting a visit from me whether they like it or not! (so, [ profile] rathbandu and [ profile] neo_ninja--you had better like it! ^_^).

I am so excited I've been running around like mad. My duffel was packed last night, and I've been pulling up google maps of the area all day, plotting my drive up there. I feel like tomorrow's Christmas and goddamn I've been a good girl this year. Of course, I HOPE I can get all of my days (only four) at Target covered so I don't technically have to call out/get fired…but come on? Archaeology…Target…archaeology…Target….archaeology…Target…

Yep. Archaeology wins.

I WISH I could go into more details, but *points to above*. As I'm hoping to woo my way into a more permanent job with this firm, I don't want to fuck with the 'Berg, so to speak.

Fear not, the motel's got while I'm not reading about New York State SHPO regulations, you'll probably catch me online. Depending on how whip-cracky these people are.
ink_n_imp: (Ozma the Wise)
But I feel like posting, and by gum, I've nothing else to talk about. But first, a rather longish explanation as to why this post came to be.

Today was one of those glorious, late summer days that happen on occasion here on Long Island--the sun was shining, the sky was blue, everything was still green, and any other ridiculously sentimental dribble you can add to the above, by all means do!

I was meandering around the porch, only to discover that some of the figs on the fig tree had ripened! Now, I ADORE fresh figs; in fact I was of the habit of picking them for breakfast off of a tree on the NYU campus in Florence the semester I studied aboard. And if you might be of the mind to say "Silly Nella, why would you do that!"; rest assured I asked the president of the study aboard program if that was alright, to which he gave a wholehearted "YES!" It turns out NO ONE ate the figs off of that fig tree, and all those delicious figs would fall to the ground and rot away every year. And as I am cheap, figs make for a marvelous breakfast. Positively delicious, nothing like a freshly ripened fig. If you don't believe me, come to my house and try them for yourself.

So, I picked what I could, and ate what I could (saving some for the rest of the family, as one shouldn't be too greedy with figs) and meandered onward to find that there were ripened Concord grapes in the back of the yard as well! This has NEVER happened before--for years, I've stared all summer at the green, hard grapes in anticipation of what ripened Concord grapes might taste like to no avail--alas, they have always be snatched up by birds long before I could enjoy them in their dark purple glory.

But this year, there are GRAPES in the backyard, fully ripened Concord grapes. Now, I am aware that Concord grapes are usually only used for the making of juices and jellies, but I picked as many as I could and ate them as I walked about some more. I can honestly tell you to not eat the skins. They are bitter like beach plum skins (also in season now, and down by Long Beach to those who like to pick fruit in public parks), but the first tentative bite is wonderfully sweet. Even the gummy middle, that reminds one of tapioca pearls, is sour and delicious.

So, as I was eating fig and grape, the thought kept rolling through my mind that 'all was right in the world, the fig was on the vine'. And even though I KNEW that FIGS don't grow on VINES (DUH), I couldn't help repeating this ridiculous mantra to myself. It took me a while, but I finally realized that my brain was foolishly combining two of my loves; the Jeeves and Wooster stories by Wodehouse, and the American Revolution.

And if you don't understand how that could be, I've written this as the explanation, even if the punch line ended up FAR away from where I originally intended it to end. )
Between the God Awful Heat (Which, thank GOD has FINALLY broken!), and navigating the MBTA and highway traffic, I've had neither the resolve nor the concentration to update about my continuing adventures in Boston. And, as I do have some pictures to post and comment upon, I think I will refrain from an in-depth discussion of the many sights of Boston until later.

In the meanwhile:

Tuesday: Walked the Freedom Trail. Had my ass handed to me by not the 2.5+ miles of it, but the 2.5+ miles of it in 93 degree weather. I did have the distinct pleasure, however, of FINALLY getting a sense of the distances between all those historic places I keep reading about, of snickering at Massachusetts' first seal, of giggling at Hancock's INCREDIBLY phallic tombstone, of visiting the Amazing Old State House museum (which possesses many intriguing and interesting artifacts and tidbits), of copying Sam Adams' pose in front of Faneuil Hall, of being terrified by an OBSCENE amount of jellyfish in the River, and of FINALLY stepping foot aboard the USS Constitution...though it appears that I'll not be able to go BELOW deck until my NEXT trip to Boston.


Ate dinner at Giacomo's in the North End. Walked away a Convert and True Believer. Zuppa di Pesce like my mother makes, and THAT is the highest compliment I've got in my bag of tricks.

Wednesday: Went to Salem, as there is very little about the town I recall from my 7th grade Boston school trip. Maybe it was just the 98+ degree scorching heat, but little to remember the second time around. However, was impressed by the National Park Visitor Center there (SOOOOOOO AIR CONDITIONED! *BASK!!!*), and the exhibits about Salem's maritime prosperity pre-Jefferson's embargo of 'let's fuck New England trade up the ass! mean...let's show the French and British we aren't going to take their privateering/impressing shit no more!'

Returned to the hotel completely fried, fell into an air conditioned coma, and blew the rest of the day by going to the movie theater to see Ocean's Thirteen.

Oh, Clooney. *glomps*


That's right, Nella has FINALLY made her pilgrimage visit to the Adams National Historic Park!!!!!

And, MIGHT I ADD, my visit there magically coincided with the break in the heat wave up here?

COINCIDENCE? You decide.

...Though, my visit to the Adams' homestead merits its' own post. I have related books to review, and a first lady to seriously fangirl. Likewise, we went to the Museum of Fine Arts as well once we were finished in Quincy, however that I shall pause in reviewing, as we plan on returning to it Saturday morning.

Now, to bed! For tomorrow, the Minuteman National Park awaits!
Again, another "falling elevator" dream. I'm really getting sick of those. Luckily, I've gotten to the point where they don't even terrify my dream self anymore...I merely force myself to "think" myself out of the fall. But they sure do piss off my dreaming self. Very, "WHAT? Again with this! Can't I just get in a dream elevator WITHOUT resulting in certain dream doom! Not fair, sir! I LIVE on the 25th floor of Water St, elevators are my LIFE, I can't AFFORD to get paranoid about them!"

But, aside from that unfortunate bit, the rest was surprisingly enjoyable. Huzzah for cracky dreams about the American Revolution!

Washington, falling elevators (AGAIN!), and Monticello, oh my!...but 'tis a long dream, so please, skip if it bores you. I just posted it cause I didn't want to forget it. ^_^ )

In other news, I went to NYU Strawberry Festival today before work, and had far too many strawberries that tasted like GOD intended strawberries to taste. A splendid time was had by all! Tomorrow is the Newman Club picnic in Central Park, that is if the rain doesn't cancel it--come one, come all! And give me a call if you totally don't know where to meet up with us.
Well, that was a long and arduous battle against my computer, but for once, 'Nella rides forth victorious!

I've been gnashing my teeth against my computer, trying to get this damned screen shot (hint: it was windows media classics that came in at the 11th hour and saved the day. *heaps the program with laurels!*) You see, I watched "The Madness of King George" today, an absolutely smashing movie that I highly recommend. I've always wanted to give King George the III a hug, he always seemed like a decent enough chap, and this movie only makes me want to hug kings more. I enjoyed it immensely, and recommend it to all.


Not 13 minutes in and I both had already fallen in loved with the movie, and was writhing in pain on the floor to my roommate's great amusement because of it.

Now, there's a WHOLE lot of historical inaccuracy I can overlook for the sake of plot, or for staging ease, or just because the director says "fuck all, it'll look cooler this way"*. I myself like it when things look cooler. The point is I can take historical inaccuracy with a grain of salt, because it's a MOVIE. It's FICTION (even when they are "Based on true events"). The point is to tell a story and that's THAT.

But nothing makes my jaw drop faster, my eyes roll backwards and foam start to come from my mouth than historical inaccuracy due to SHEER LAZINESS. And I know this is a very, very, petty and silly thing, but for ME to notice it within the 1.2 seconds it shows up on the screen makes it a GLARING act of LAZINESS, so glaring that I must take issue.

I ask you my friends. For a movie taking place in 1789, what is wrong with this globe that King George is pointing too?

I'll give you a hint. Jefferson wasn't President yet. And John Quincy Adams wasn't busting Spanish balls for land yet. Oh, and Daniel Webster wasn't busting Canadian balls for land yet as well. Oh hell, just click on the pic and I'll give you a brief history of American ball-busting for land pre-1850. )

I know this 'twas a silly rant, but COME ON. This movie takes place RIGHT AFTER the American Revolution had been won (…make that lost, as this is a movie about King George). You don't go out of your way to draw attention to King George's anger and disappointment over losing the colonies and then bullshit with a globe representing a 1850-ish American geography!!! Shame on you, movie, shame on you and this lack of attention to detail!!!


And the Footnotes of my short rant…er…treatise… )

December 2010

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