Buy me some peanuts and crackerjacks

When I first arrived in Boston, I was a die-hard Yankees fan (meaning that I knew who Roger Clemens was, and could have picked him out of a lineup... if there were three people in line, and two of them were Asian). I quickly learned, however, that being a Yankees fan will get you killed. Dead. In Boston. Tim gave me a Red Sox hat for my birthday last year (for my protection, he said), so now I'm practically a rabid Sox fan. Meaning that I know their colors are red and blue. Actually, I have a crush on Jason Bay, who seems like such a nice boy, and Jacoby Ellsbury, who seems to have superpower running skills. The problem is that while I was a die-hard Yankees fan, I got used to talking about them so I occasionally (read: frequently) accidentally refer to the Red Sox as the Yankees, a practice that I am told is "not that cool" and has not won me any local friends.

Tim somehow got tickets to Sunday's game, but told me that if I accidentally cheered for the Yankees, he would not prevent the masses from chopping me into bits or impaling me, and that if they for some reason spared me, he himself would remove me bodily from the premises.

The game was awesome, and I'm (phew) still alive.

(AP) Boston, MA. Boston University took time off from buzzing about its famous serial killer today for the 15th annual Russek Student Achievement Day. The affair celebrated the work of many of BU’s hard-working students, including first-prize winner Timothy Hanley. Mr. Hanley was honored for his work in the field of HIV research, as well as his community service and positive impact on fellow students and the scientific community. He was last year’s winner of the Corwin award, a highly competitive prize given to students who excel in both academics and citizenship. Mr. Hanley is not only a senior PhD student, but also a medical student, which means he will eventually need to be called Dr. Dr. Hanley, or maybe Drs. Hanley. He was encouraged to apply for the award by Professor Nikolajczyk, whose name no man, woman or child can pronounce. Mr. Hanley presented a talk in the afternoon entitled, “Nuclear Receptor Signaling Inhibits Dendritic Cell-Mediated HIV-1 Capture and Trans-infection.” According to a local Science-to-English translator, he is trying to cure The AIDS.

Students like Laura Dickey, whose research wasn’t far along or curing-the-aids enough to be considered for prizes, were allowed to present posters in a science-fair-esque manner. Ms. Dickey, whose relationship to Mr. Hanley is unclear, said that she regretted that she couldn’t think of any reasons to claim part of his 1500 USD prize money, but would try her best to manipulate him into taking her to Tangierino’s anyway.

Down on the banks of the hanky panky

In fond memory of Lil' Brudder,

and also Frederiquito el Sapo,

in case he didn't survive Caleb's 2nd grade class.

I pretended that my goal was to give Cami and Peter some peaceandquiet, but Actually, I really (really) love frogs and was itching to go see the Chorus of Frogs exhibit at the Museum of Science. Bryn ran around from aquarium to aquarium, bursting at the proverbial seams to see every frog in the building. Calvin, a different kind of nature observer, stayed at each display for 10-15 minutes, intensely studying the subjects.

Calvin looked through this crappy excuse of a microscope for a half hour. He kept asking me to bring him more samples, and figured out how to focus on them using the knob on top. It was beyond adorable.

After the museum, we went for a picnic at a gorgeous park.* In the top right picture (below), Calvin was telling me that Actually, he didn't need to wash his face. My favorite part of the day was when he pointed to the tree Bryn was climbing (she reminds me more of her mother everday) and said, "Is that tree flowering?" I confirmed his suspicions and a couple minutes later, he touched my arm and said, "Laura, I love that flowering tree." His softer side was later discarded when Tim was helping him "climb" the tree. "Let go, Tim," he said. "I want you to see how brave I am."

*Technically known as the grass in front of Boston University School of Medicine (Tim had to check on something at the lab). At one point, a couple of inner-city fellows came by using language that would have made Eminem blush. One of them noticed us picnicking and said, "Oh, hello children. I apologize for my language." Bryn said, "mmm hmm" and smiled. The man nodded and walked on.

The fast and the very, very furious

I'm a really awesome environment saver, so I usually take the train to work (read: I can't afford to pay $30/ for parking in the garage). There is meter parking right outside the hospital, but you have to move your car every two hours lest the local law enforcement officers fine you $550,000 and/or your firstborn's kidneys.

Anyway, I drove in Wednesday so that I could take a midday foray to my favorite bike shop. (Actually, Tim drove my car to said funland, as he is under the general opinion that I suck at the driving....) As we were returning to school in the tunnel that goes RIGHT UNDER the city, a guy in a huge, nice pickup truck started to push his way into our lane. Where my car was. As we were there first, and had no way of making ourselves and vehicle vaporize so that his much nicer truck could occupy our space, Tim lay on the horn in a very Boston-esque fashion. The man next door (instead of apologizing profusely for nearly bring a swift end to our mortal probations) rolled down his window, screamed obscenities at us, gave us the bird, and continued forcing his way into our lane. Tim stubbornly refused to will our car out of existence, and Sir D-bag*, while looking me straight in the eye, hit my car. I tried to get his licence number, but he backed off and took an exit before I could. The joke is on him. I'm going to get rid of this scrap of metal before the year ends, and his huge, nice truck will probably cost hundreds of dollars to fix.

Remember that story I was telling you about meter parking? Hypothetically, if one were to get an upsetting phone call regarding her ICU-ridden grandmother and needed to gather herself in the ladies chamber for a couple minutes, and arrived to move her car just a couple minutes too late, the following just might be waiting for her:

Of course, two of those violations are for the same offense (expired sticker... dont' worry Mom, I did it online and need to put the new sticker on). Have I mentioned that I'm getting rid of my car?

P.S. Granny dearest is a-ok for now, as the doctors were able to electrocute her heart into beating again...

*Mom: D-bag means "dirtbag"
*Karen: ask Zack what it really means