I feel kind of awkward when I blog here now. I'm like that grandkid who never comes to visit—it just feels awkward when I show up. But I've been doing some really good stuff on the work blog, as have my internet-savvy cohorts. It's all the snark you've loved here, but with less first-person narrative.
Of course, I can't write about all the news items of note at Boston Daily, so I figured I'd give you a little taste of the things I've read that have made it onto my radar screen lately.
The one thing that had me muttering "Oh, GROSS" and scaring the interns this morning was this item. [via Jezebel]
Everyday thousands of people come to Disneyland to make life long memories. Apparently, some of those people want those memories to last forever, as in an eternity.
Scattering someone's ashes at Disneyland is strictly prohibited. But apparently that doesn't mean some people aren't trying. . . .
"Well it's been going on for awhile, it started sporadically with the Haunted Mansion and lately because of the spectral nature of the 'Pirates of the Caribbean' films, there's been this been this connection between people and that," Al Lutz said.
I've never been to Disneyland, but I've been to Disney World. And it is the last place I would want as my final resting place. To anyone over the age of 20, it is downright creepy. The entire experience is so carefully manufactured and happy happy happy that instead of having fun, I feel like I've walked in to the Stepford Wives on LSD. Also, for fuck's sake. Kids dip their hands in that water, lady. Find a Mickey-shaped shrub for Aunt Mert if you must leave her in the Magic Kingdom.
And John McCain started a small kerfuffle, laughing after one of his supporters asked "How do we beat the bitch?"
The camera is right up in his face, so he clearly thought he was going to get away without some flack for going along with the joke. A quick "that's disrespectful" would have done him a world of good. But McCain isn't looking to impress female voters, so he probably appealed to a lot of his supporters with his reaction.
Last week, I got a call from my grandmother while I was at work. My initial reaction was panic that someone had taken ill or died with her business-like tone. Turns out, she was calling to give me marching orders.
"Your aunt is coming home for Christmas," she said. "We're busy before Christmas, but after we want to come up to Boston for a day. Maybe your other aunt will come too. We can make it a girls night."
So I am in charge of finding a show or exhibit for my grandmother and aunts. While this sounds like a lame day, I am actually afraid it will lead to a criminal record. The women in my family like to party, and I fear after a few drinks they'll be accosting every single guy in the bar for me or my single aunt. Or my grandmother, for that matter. So if I end up in the papers, it's all their fault.
On a similar note, please remind me that drinking several girlie drinks leads only to headache, stomachache, and woe. Thank you.