My grandma and your grandma, sitting by the fire

Perhaps unintentionally, but definitely awesomely, Jezebel has accrued a lengthy collection of amazing “my grandma…” stories in the comment section of this post. Who knew that Grace Kelly could be such a conversation starter (although she was actually pretty interesting, too)?

I’m old

I’m turning 29 this year, and I feel really old. Not necessarily in a bad way, but it seems amazing to me how fast my 20s went. I feel like my 29 years have gone so fast, and am beginning to understand what genuinely old people (those in their 40s, say) mean when they talk about life going by quickly.

This weekend, I went to Connecticut for my aunt’s 70th birthday party. It was a (gentle) roast, and my cousin, the MC, decided to put the passage of 70 years in perspective. We found a web site that helped us, and she started off her speech to my aunt with the following facts:

What Things Cost in 1940:
Car: $800
Gasoline: 18 cents/gal
House: $6,550
Bread: 8 cents/loaf
Milk: 34 cents/gal
Postage Stamp: 3 cents
Stock Market: 131
Average Annual Salary: $1,900
Minimum Wage: 30 cents per hour

Everybody laughed at the huge difference in price between then and now, and it made think of the changes I’ve seen in many things, just in my own lifetime. A postage stamp cost $.18 when I was born, and I remember watching televised reports of people’s outrage when it went up to $.29 (I just checked, and that happened when I was 9). My undergraduate college now costs about %55 more (!!) per year for tuition, room, and board than it did when I was a student there. I doubt that it’s 55% more awesome than it used to be, but that’s neither here nor there. I remember a forward that the new students sent to each other about knowing that you were a child of the 80s if… It pointed out the differences between the world in which we lived and the one into which we’d been born, and mocked 90s babies for all that they’d missed (I still take this stance, by the way; the 80s > the 90s).

But then I read this piece, and it shocked me. Of course, most American kids today have never used a physical card catalog, unless they’re from a very small library system. That makes sense, but it seems odd that kids today have never experienced something that I enjoyed so much when I was younger. For me, the physical card catalog was interesting because of the “See also” and “See instead” references. I liked it when I thought the way the cataloger had and found what I wanted the the first time. I also liked when I had to look unexpected to find what I wanted. Either way, it was like participating in a scavenger hunt that I always won. Now, people who know what they’re looking for can do the same with an online catalog, search engine, or database in a fraction of the time. The results are the same, although the process is now disappointingly straightforward.

I’m used to people thinking that Google is magically going to spit out the answer to every question they have, and thinking that the Internet is broken if all is not revealed by the first link, but I sometimes forget that there was a time when people regularly had to do more to get information.

It’s funny cause it’s true

I don’t actually watch Lost anymore, because I couldn’t keep up with what was happening (and neither could the writers), but I remember enough of the show to find this funny.

Where’s my minority money???

Or, Why One Should Never Listen to Patrons:

Mr. OldGuy, a curmudgeon if I ever saw one, who is here on nearly a daily basis and passes gas that smells like he is already dead, says that the census exists only to find out where the minorities are. To give them money. Why didn’t I know about this? I’m all for any government conspiracy that actually benefits me, since those are few and far between.

I always have the best time in Boston

So I just got home from Boston where, as usual, I had a blast. I think that my opinion of Boston is skewed because I’m always there expressly to have fun; what city could suck when one’s only goal is to be entertained? We stayed at The Back Bay Hotel (thank Jeebus for Priceline), which was awesome, but whose unlimited free wireless would have earned it my undying love even if it had been only half as good. The hotel was in a great location for us to walk whereever we wanted to go, which is great, since we walked everywhere the entire weekend. For somebody as lazy as I am, this is quite an accomplishment. Actually, I don’t usually consider walking as real exercise, as you can look around and talk while doing it without losing your breath, but I definitely haven’t walked that much since I was in Europe last year.

Newbury Street was really close to our hotel, which is great, since there are some incredible restaurants on it. We went to:

• La Voile – French, awesome. The pan-seared fois gras is pretty amazing and the portion is insanely generous.
• Stephanie’s on Newbury – Great brunch, smart casual.
• The Other Side Cafe – Another brunch spot, much more casual/vegan-friendly/inexpensive than Stephanie’s.
• Pazzo – Italian. Unassuming space, pretty tasty food.
• J. P. Licks – Great ice cream. Crazy flavors, too.

We really wanted burritos from Boloco this morning before we headed home, but they didn’t open until 10, and we were on the road by a little after 9. It was a great, relaxed and fun weekend, and even the rain that greeted us as we neared New Jersey didn’t ruin the good mood I’ve got going!

The post office suxxx!

So I went to the post office yesterday to mail out the blanket and booties I had knit for my friend’s baby boy. Little Archer made his appearance today, but since the package was already in the mail, I’m going to consider myself on time with this one. Happy birthday, Archer! It’s going to be interesting to have a St. Patrick’s Day birthday. That kid’s 21st is going to be epic.

I put the items in a handy box, but didn’t seal it, because I couldn’t find my packing tape. I figured that I could just use the tape at the post office. I addressed a label to Joanna, but didn’t include her zip code, because I didn’t have it. I wasn’t worried, since I’ve always gotten them from the post office in the past.

I made it to the post office and spent a couple of minutes using the free tape to eliminate any possibility that the package would open in transit. I took it to the counter and asked the gentleman for the zip code I needed. He told me that they no longer did that, and I’d have to get it on my own. He wrote down a freaking 800 number, as if I would devote that much effort to it. I just looked it up on my phone in about the time it would have taken to dial the number.

So I went back up to the counter with my newly zip-coded package. He looked at it and told me that they couldn’t accept packages sealed with Scotch tape. So why do they provide it???? He suggested that I use the Priority tape, which was on another table. I went to the other table and covered every bit of Scotch tape with the Priority tape.

Once I was finished, I took it to the counter for a third time. Thankfully, there were no more holdups. The guy scanned the package and then told me that I owed $5 for the postage. $5??? For a package to South Jersey?? At first I was confused as to why it cost so much; the contents are small pieces of fabric and couldn’t possibly cost that much to send 100 miles away. And then I realized that with the Priority tape came the Priority price. Devious! I guess that’s why the post office has done away with the plain packing tape they used to carry.

Now that I know the post office is an agent of evil, I will adjust my dealings with it accordingly.

No child left behind

Except this one. Oy.

This woman is clearly pregnant

You try to look sexy in maternity undies.

So the only reasonable way she could have lost 10 pounds so quickly would be if she gave birth. Mazel tov, pregnant lady from the ad!

An 8 year old kid + a loaded Uzi = Bad, bad things

From the article:

A Massachusetts sporting club is donating $10,000 to children’s charities as part of a deal settling criminal charges in the death of an 8-year-old boy who accidentally shot himself in the head with an Uzi during a gun fair.

There were so many points of failure in this story (the organizers’, the former police chief’s, the gun club’s, the father’s, and the poor 15 year old boy who was supervising Christopher) that it’s hard to know where to begin casting the blame. Christopher Bizilj deserved so much better than what happened to him. Mistakes and lapses in judgment happen all the time, but I honestly don’t know how his mother, Suzanne Bizilj can stand the knowledge that when their child was handed a loaded Uzi, her husband was preparing to take pictures, rather than to help his son hold the firearm.

Presented without further comment