How Does Your Garden Grow?

Now that it's finally spring I'm all geared up for an annual right of passage that we yardless folk participate in - the container garden. For this project you will need:

Flower box and flower box holder (I bought mine at Ikea)

Potting soil and/or dirt

Seeds. You can also pick up starter plants at most hardware or garden stores. However, they're sold in 6 packs so if you're space challenged you may want to split it with a greenie friend.

In the past I've used starter plants for basil (that I ahem, borrowed, from my garden growing parents) but this year I got ambitious and purchased cilantro and basil seeds at Ocean State Job Lot. I made a couple of adjustments to ensure that they might actually grow, including drilling drainage holes in the bottom of my Ikea flower boxes.

Future projects may include growing tomatoes in a 5 gallon bucket as well as cucumbers that will vine up the side of my balcony.

Sprint Shout Out!

A shout out to a company that's gone from worst to first in my book: Sprint. As one of the two coveted mobile providers with excellent reception in mi casa, I switched to them 2 years ago after getting fed up with spotty T-Mobile zones. While initially the customer service from hell stories rang 100% true, Sprint listened to their customers and implemented positive changes. Last night I had probably one of the least frustrating customer service experiences ever.

The software I use to sync my phone to Outlook has been acting buggy lately and after attempting to trouble shoot, I reformated my phone back to factory settings. I managed to get everything back up and running except my work e-mail, which I was having trouble linking in to. I called Sprint from my landline and within FOUR MINUTES my problem was solved thanks to the friendly and professional native English-speaking rep.

Yay, Sprint!

I Criticize Because I Care

On Sunday, Wellesley and I went to Legal Seafood at Copley for a traditional New England clambake courtesy of special pricing through Groupon.com. As a caveat to the dining deal, Wellesley and I sat with 58 of our closest friends community style for a down and dirty meal with all the fixings.

The meal started off with a decent cup of New England chowder, the same stuff that is stamped with the Legal name and mass marketed throughout the east coast. Moving on, the steamers were out of this world. They were simple, and tasty, and utterly addictive. If you're going to break the holy rules of kosher eating, Legal Seafood steamers are definitely the way to go. I skipped the chorizo course and moved on to the main star of the evening, a chicken lobster that I secretly named Ellie.

When it comes to lobster, I am like Bubba from Forrest Gump: I like it boiled, broiled, baked, steamed, fried, and sauteed. I like it in sandwiches, in pasta, topped on pizza, mixed with mac and cheese, stuffed, or simply dead and on my plate. If you are culinary enough to boil water you can cook a lobster, which is why I was shocked and awed when Legal Seafoods, the self-anointed King of New England seafood, managed to fuck it up.

Aside from being rubbery and overcooked, Ellie was not steamed in salt water, rendering her bland and even more tasteless than this blog. Wellesley complained of a similar fate for his unnamed crustacean. Not like it prevented us from eating everything besides the shells (seriously, now....), but I honestly expected better from a place as high end as Legal.

Wellesley and I each fake muttered a line about "being full" before diving face first into a plate of Boston Cream Pie. The pie was shaped like a half circle and had an outer layer of vanilla pudding surrounding the traditional white cake. Cut with whipped cream and topped with chocolate sauce it was delicious expression of our Masshole pride.

Overall, it was a mixed review of a restaurant that I had set the bar pretty high for. Since every cloud deserves a silver lining, I will mention that the waitstaff was excellent. Bottom line: I've enjoyed the raw bar and lunch specials during past visits, but I'll likely steer clear of Legals the next time I have an overwhelming urge for lobster.

City Shopping

Shopping urges do not hit often, but when they do they are severe and must be nipped in the bud immediately. Wide awake at the luxurious hour of 7:45am this Saturday, I had an overwhelming need to get out of bed and buy a black cocktail dress. I've been seeking such a garment for at least a year and have literally tried on at least 60 dresses in search for the perfect fit. Believe it or not, one crucial place has been left out of my worldwide search: the city of Boston. After reading tale after tale of successful shopping sprees by Fearless, I decided to book it to her Beacon Hill 'hood.

Unlike the Back Bay, which is littered with national chains and department stores that I know and love, Beacon Hill is peppered with small boutiques that fancy people shop at. To be honest, it was all a little intimidating. However, I found a bout of courage in the fact that I managed to snag a primo parking spot on Charles Street. Perhaps, after all, Beacon Hill was truly meant to be.

I checked out two stores I had read about on Yelp - Crush and Wish. While Crush stocked some adorable frocks, the one I fell in love with simply didn't fit right. At Wish I must've reeked of Southeast Expressway, as I flat out ignored at that particular establishment (in all honestly, though, nothing really caught my eye). Defeated, I made my way towards the car when I stumbled upon Holiday.

Holiday had an adorable dress in a size 6 (ha! Dare to dream!) and informed me that if they special ordered my size that I'd be stuck with it regardless of fit. At almost $400, that was not a gamble I was willing to take. As I walked out of there to make my way over to Plan B (Newbury St), one of the girls informed me that they can make me a custom dress.....and (shocker!!!) the prices are totally reasonable (albeit the upper limit of "reasonable"...hey, this is Beacon Hill). The sales lady took my measurements and I suddenly realized that for the first time in my life I would be able to take home a dress that fits like a dream and wouldn't have to be altered. Best of all, the dresses are made locally so the turn around is less than 2 weeks, which means that I'll have it just in time for Flutterbyblue's engagement party.

I spoke of my brave Beacon Hill tales to Fearless when I met up with her and B for lunch on Cambridge St. As an extra bonus Fearless promised to take me to one of the top Mexican places in Boston (it's located inside a gas station....awesome!!) when I pick up my dress. Exhausted from the heat and shopping stress, I bid adieu to the bright lights and big city to mosey over to Brighton and experience the madness that is a 20% of sale at the New Balance outlet.

Last week I participated in my first Groupon - a one month membership to a fancy, women-only gym in Chestnut Hill. While I've maintained gym memberships in the past, committments aren't really my thing and therefore my participation dropped off in order to pursue more meaningful activities (mostly eating, drinking, and sleeping). I'm not sure whether it's the fact that I'm newly dedicated to losing 8 lbs or the fact that I know that I'm only on the hook for one month, but I actually find myself enjoying my time at the gym. Who know that pounding the elliptical was a much better stress reliever than a double of Glenlivet?

Nay's been a member of this particular gym for years and while she's starry eyed even talking about it, I seriously didn't expect much from a female-only gym. Not like I'm as badass of an athlete as this Ironmatron but I really didn't think much of an establishment that I assumed was filled with yoga freaks and ex-marching band members. Little did I know that those color guard girls would spend all of last week running my ass all over the gym. After spending almost an entire day fully immobile, I'm back on a tear. I want more sweat, more cardio, and way more conditioning.

I'm pumped up for more - at least until Memorial Day when my membership expires. While I think it's an excellent gym with top amenities, my work schedule simply does not allow me to schlep to Chestnut Hill the 3-4 times a week necessary to take full advantage of a gym membership. I do, however, have a new-found respect for single sex gyms, not to mention baton twirlers everywhere.

Moral of the Story: Never Date a Quincy Guy

As if there weren't enough reasons to never date a Quincy guy, it turns out that the Craigslist Killer called the 02169 home. The Boston PD closed in when it was discovered that boy genius Philip Markoff actually e-mailed his Craigslist prey from his home computer. Seriously, you can't make this stuff up.

Turns out that the wunderkind in question has a fiance, and (here's the kicker), she's actually dumber than he is. Megan McAllister has been shooting her mouth off whenever possible to speak of the kind and gentle qualities of her sociopathic beloved. Despite the fact that her snookums left prints all over the murder scene, McAllister is still standing by her man. Whether she's holding out for a wedding or is simply in it for the hot conjugal trailer sex is anyone's guess.

Markoff's family isn't talking because they know what everyone (aside from Miss Megan) already knows: that he's an elitist prick with a gambling problem. He treatened and robbed defenseless women because he thought he could get away with it. Love may be blind but there is no way on earth that Megan McAllister didn't have even the slightest suspicion as to where this full time student was getting all this cash.

This unspeakable tragedy will yield justice for the victim's families. As an extra bonus it'll also give the Herald something interesting to write about all summer. Perhaps Markoff will have the opportunity to shack up with second degree murderer Alexander Pring-Wilson...those two would make quite the dynamic duo.

Oh Happy Day!

Deals of the Day:

It's Free Cone Day at select Ben & Jerry's locations

$0.50 iced coffee day at Dunkin Donuts

Home Depot is handing out free CFL bulbs in honor of Earth Day

In a prelude to Mother's Day, Groupon is offering a $50 gift cert for flowers for $25

Restaurant.com is offering 60% off gift certificates through code BONUS. They'll also throw in a $15 gift card to Dale and Thomas (fancy popcorn store) free of charge.

Big Y is offering $0.78 earth friendly shopping bags with a silver coin. Those with the coveted red coins can trade them for the earthy crunchy bags gratis.

A Creature of Habit

I am a creature of habit, so like most borderline OCD people, I like to stick to general routines. On the 16th of every month, I celebrate the 15th of the month pay day by donating all of my money to various utility and maintenance companies. However, this month was different because of my recent breakup with Comcast. While I still use them for Internet and basic cable (aka: the networks only...and BET for some reason) my bill this month rang in at a whopping ($2.36). All you Accounting 201 superstars know that parenthesis on a bill is always a good thing. It means that Comcast owes me. They are in my pocket and on my list. It's a fantastic feeling.

With the $2.36 burning a hole in my wallet I did a bit of online clothes shopping this morning. Since inquiring minds may want to know, yes, I did manage to spend it all in one place.

In other news, Wellesley introduced me to this site called Groupon. Modeled like Woot, they offer a daily discount on things in an around the Boston area. Yesterday I signed up for a block of 24 gym classes at Healthworks for only $19. While I probably won't use all 24 classes before they expire on Memorial Day, I figure it's basically a $19 one month membership to an upscale gym. Plus it should be a nice workout supplement to my 2.3 mile daily walk to and from the fire hydrant.

Never Waste a Perfectly Good Beer on a Habs Fan

Foie Gras: The Gateway Drug to Yuppiness

It seems as if every night that a swank party is raging somewhere in Boston. I've obviously been hanging with the wrong crowd because while I read of fabulous ragers in the Inside Track, I've never actually been invited to one. For the record I still haven't, but Wellesley has, and last night I was his plus one arm candy at Banq in the South End.

The soiree in question was hosted by Tim Zagat, author of the Zagat restaurant guide. Since Zagat tends to focus on upscale restaurants that serve food I can't pronounce, we are not on intimiate terms. Personally, I'm more of a Yelp girl. However, there's nothing like the words "free food and alcohol" to get me motivated enough to leave the house on an overcast Tuesday night.

While queueing up at the bar I munched on cone shaped things that I later learned were filled with foie gras - it was divine. I probably could've chewed through a dozen of those little cones had I not been constantly thinking about what foie gras actually is. After downing a couple of Oban 14 year (thanks, Mr. Z!), I tried another appetizer that Wellesley described as "bunny". Since he was about as deep as I was, I honest-to-God thought he was messing with me. Note to self: Wellesley doesn't kid when he's talking about rabbit. Good to know.

Hanging with the Boston magazine crowd was a bit out of my comfort zone, but I definitely had a lot of fun. On the way home I described my evening to Nay, including my run-in with rabbit and foie gras, the gateway drugs to yuppiness. I was still grinning from ear-to-ear when Nay finally snapped "Are you fucking serious? That's wicked distgusting!". It takes a good friend to help you realize that while eating foie gras with fabulous people may be a rare delicacy, shouting a combo meal into a clown's mouth is certainly more my reality.

I don't expect my inbox to be flooded with private party invites nor do I expect to become a regular on the South End dining scene. I may have spent the last week getting schooled at the Four Seasons and Banq, but rest assured that I still have no idea what the fuck a short rib is, or why someone would want to eat it for that matter. Despite my ignorance on the finer things in life, the words "free food and alcohol" will continue to motivate me to get out there and enjoy my city (especially if they're uttered by Wellesley). That being stated, don't be surprised if I lay out a spread of fancy crackers and foie gras at my next ho down. After all, you're going to need something to nosh on while playing beer pong.

Friday Updates

I didn't have time to mention it earlier this week but on Wednesday, April 1, Minnie turned 12! Like any 12 year old girl, Minnie is extremely excited about becoming a Bark Mitzvah. While we celebrate Minnie everyday, her Bark Mitzvah definitely entitles her to extra treats, including her Jewish favorites like bagels, cream cheese, and chopped liver. Happy Birthday, Minnie!

This week I had the pleasure of being Wellesley's arm candy at his fancy college alumni event. As a UMass grad I've attended a couple of local alumni events, the most memorable one being the time we got free cheese at Coogan's. Wellesley spent four years at a midwestern country club (oh, I mean elite private college...he reads this) so we were treated to passed appetizers, an open bar, and a three course meal at the Four Seasons. Not to be outdone by our flagship state university, they also sprung for free cheese. I had a great time all decked out in my midweek best.

I'm approaching my three week anniversary without cable. Honestly? It's been a somewhat welcome relief. Last Saturday there was nothing on and rather than on-demand a show like I normally would, I took a 3 mile walk. I know, huh? The horror!!! Not only that, but I also made a cameo at my local library to check out a book I had read a review of online. So now I'm reading and exercising instead of sitting on my ass watching old episodes of the Facts of Life. Seriously, what is this world coming to?

I haven't been sleeping well lately so I'm looking forward to a somewhat low-key weekend. My uncle is giving me a cooking lesson this weekend (we're making homemade horseradish that's hot enough to burn a hole in your throat - delicious!). I'll also be waiting with baited breathe for the Troll, who is making the pilgrimage to her ancestral homeland on Sunday (aka: Stoughton). I may (or may not) also discover that I have a secret passion for salsa dancing...stay tuned!

Meanwhile, Down in Marsh Vegas

WBZ proudly reports that the sleepy South Shore town of Marshfield is the first town in the nation to install high-tech Situcon cameras in various municipal buildings. Shaped like a round dome with a retractable eyelid, several of the cameras are currently spying on patrons at the Ventress Public Library. Sure the new cameras cost many thousands of dollars a pop but that's not the point. The point is that the old age question of "is that a book in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" can finally be answered thanks to this technological marvel.

The cameras are activated by remote control and give emergency personnel a window into what's happening inside a building in real time. Should the citizens of neighboring Duxbury decide to launch midnight attacks on the town, the Marshfield PD will be ready. Call off the Armada, Scituate, Situcon is watching!

Marshfield, a town where one could drop dead on Route 139 and nobody would find the body for weeks, assumingly got a Homeland Security grant to buy this shit. Not to be confused with Mansfield (that's a totally different town), Marshfield lies in infamy for playing hostess to some of the seediest characters that side of Route 3 during the annual Marshfield Fair. Other than that, the town is erroding into the ocean but nobody seems to notice.

Nothing against Marshfield - I'm sure it's a fine town - but they are the sole reason that Americans are so ticked off about federal earmarks. The real story here is not some fluff piece created by Channel 4 but rather the gross misappropriation of federal funds. The town should be downright embarrassed that American taxpayers were forced to cough up cash so their bored police department could play with a new camera. If Senator Kerry weren't such an empty suit he'd launch an investigation immediately.