FAT FOOD: MUWAAAHAAHAHAHA!

One of the things you get to look forward to as being a part of corporate America, especially in the line of work that I am in, is that (during the holiday season) the office becomes a drop-off place for a plethora of amazing (and not-so-amazing) things from suppliers (and wanna-be suppliers). They send/bring-in muffins, danishes, donuts, cakes, cookies, candy, and everything else that's super bad; everything but fresh fruit. The first day is fine, but after a while you start to get really sick of it. The worst part is that you don't stop eating the shit that keeps pouring in. The eating part essentially becomes a part of your job description. Right now my mouth hurts so much from the fake smiles that I give off as people bring in the goods. If they only knew that as soon as they leave me, I start cursing them under my breath, wishing and hoping beyond all that is glorious that they're the ones who magically get fat. Yes, even though it's really me who will go down that road.

(Give me a second as I stuff another candy bar down my throat... Oops. I gagged a little... 260 calories full.)

I know I could easily choose to NOT eat those things, and politely pass them off to other people in the office (who aren't as "fortunate" since their jobs actually suck), but that's the strange thing about all this. Despite feelings of grossness, the "bad" stuff remains.

I hate to be that guy who has to come into the office and shower the group with morsels of fatty goodness, just so that by the time Christmas comes, they can't even fit into their jeans anymore. Sad, right?

Oh but alas... I am going to be that guy. You see, I have a presentation to give to my colleagues tomorrow, and in order to glaze them over at 8:00AM I will be bringing in a dozen (or two) glazed donuts to start their morning off right. Hopefully, by the time my presentation is done, they'll be too sleepy to ask me questions, and then I can somehow slip back to finishing up my Friday. That, my friend, is the master plan. It's a classic case of fighting fire with fire. Only this time, I will not be the victim here. I will not eat one donut that I bring into the office tomorrow morning.

Mark my word, bitches.

OH, THAT eBay...

I'm usually one of the last people to jump on the bandwagon when it comes to getting involved with an "on-line community." I remember reluctantly joining Friendster baaaack in the day only after several friends of mine prodded me to do it. Even still, it must've taken me a whole year before I actually accessed that account again. I probably gained just about 250+ friends before I got over it. Myspace and Xanga came next, and just this year I got hooked on Facebook. I've also hopped on board other sites like Multiply and WAYN, but rarely do anything with those.

I'm not sure what it is about these things, but for some reason I always find myself getting sucked in. My latest stint with Facebook has probably been the best experience so far since it 1) isn't a complete skank-fest like Myspace, and 2) I've re-connected with a good number of elementary and high school friends whom I haven't been in contact with for many years. So in that respect, joing FB has been awesome.

Just this week, however, I decided to re-hash an old account I had started years back with eBay. Mind you, I never got into the whole eBay craze that hit the web a while back. While all my friends were buying and selling on-line, I kept away from it. I don't know what possessed me to toy with the site this past week.

So I started bidding on certain things on eBay, and then I'd lose to some freak-bidder at the last second. The first time it happened, I was like, "Eh, whatever... win some, lose some." The second time it happened I wanted to pull my hair out. The third time it happened, I felt like going insane! I was being consumed by an incessant need to "win."

In the past night or so, I even stayed up to monitor another bid that I had in motion. I was not going to let this one go. My eyes were bloodshot, hands shaking, and I was doing everything I could to fight the sleep that wanted to set in. And just when it came down to the last seconds of the auction, I used all I had learned from my past losses and went in their to do the damn thing... and -- I EFFIN' WON! VICTORY WAS MINE! MUWAHAHAAHAHAHAAHAHAHAAH!

Next thing you know, I crashed. Hard.

When I woke-up, I didn't even realize what I had done until I looked at my email and saw a "win" confirmation from eBay. I opened the email to find out what it was that I bought, and it was... eh, I'll spare you the details. Now that I think about it, I'm kind of embarrassed to say it. But whatever. What you don't know won't hurt you. (It burned $325 in my pocket, but again, what you don't know won't hurt you. *grin*)

Ha.

Note to self: Do not give in to the self-deprecating debilitation of emo purchasing on eBay (*ahem* ...while drunk. Oops. Guess I left that part out. Teehee.). You never know what'll come out of it.

FOODIE FLASHBACK: UNION OYSTER HOUSE

One of my good friends here in L.A. is also an "East Coast" transplant like me. She's from Connecticut (from the other side of the Long Island Sound), and went to school in Boston. The two of us have a blast exchanging stories of our experiences growing-up back East. There can be a great rapport between people who've grown up in the corridor between D.C. and Boston, and - if you're like me - you'd consider it one of the best places in the world to grow up.

I traveled to Boston several times during and after my college days. I was usually in town for some kind of school-related event (conferences at BU and Harvard), so I was usually limited in my time to check out the city and enjoy it. But I did have my share of getting to know Beantown. It's definitely not super huge, but for me - that was part of the overall charm. Being a self professed city guy (I grew up in the suburbs, but was literally 5 minutes outside D.C.), I tend to indulge in all things "city-ish." Boston, no doubt, has enough for a person like me to indulge in. I've run the gamut of Boston staples: shopping and dining at The Prudential Center, hanging out at Fanueil Hall (beer!), checking out Fenway, riding around town on the T (gotta love cities with awesome subway stations: D.C., NYC, Beantown, Philly, Chi Town, San Fran...), going to Cambridge/visiting Harvard, taking a stroll in Boston Commons, and shopping along Newbury Street. It doesn't have the overwhelmingness that tends to loom over say NYC (which I'm all about), but it has just enough energy and life. The Boston accent puts Jersey accents to shame (sorry to my Jersey peeps), and the city gives off a sense of toughness and pride. Not so much a sense of "power," as NYC or D.C. gives off, but we don't need all cities having that air about them. Boston is a great place to be.

So back to my friend, she and her boyfriend visited Boston earlier this year, and beforehand the two of us were sort of talking about the things they were going to do while there. This was her BF's first time there, so it would definitely have to include some of the staples that I mentioned before. I even suggested a Duck Tour as a joke, and we got a good laugh out of that one (Duck Tours, if you haven't already done one, are these land and water tours that go through cities.). When I mentioned the Union Oyster House, my friend's eyes lit up, and she asked me if I'd been. I looked at her like she was crazy. How do you go to Boston and not go there? She had been before, so we both laughed about it, and she added it to their "to do" list.

The last time I'd gone was about 5 years ago, and we went after some drinks and laughs all over the city. The restaurant itself is a designated national historic landmark, and is a spot along the Freedom Trail. Established in 1826, it is noted to be America's oldest. It's famed oyster bar has been an integral part of the restaurant since that year, and it's been said that Daniel Webster spent time there daily having no more than six plates of oysters with his tall tumbler of brandy and water.

The menu covers all things seafood, and it's prized catch is - of course - their oysters. But oysters aren't the only draw. The restaurant is also known for its mussels and clams, among other things. On the menu at UOH you'll find everything from Clams Casino, Oysters Rockefeller, Cape Cod Littlenecks and Cherrystones, New England Lobsters, and New England Clam Chowder (sorry, Manhattan, but I'm a NECC fan). For the not-so-seafood-savvy, there are a few dishes made from land animals, but they're too boring to even list. The UOH is a place for seafood, afterall.

If my memory serves me right, I ordered the Broiled Seafood Platter. I was at the height of my weight-loss quest back then (damn you, freshman 15!), and I was not going to let fried food get the better of me (esp. since I was drinking like a wreck back then). The platter came filled with a swordfish steak, salmon fillet, scallops, scrod, grilled shrimp, and potatoes (I think; but I gave my potatoes to one of my friends - ahaha). It was a feast for the senses, and a party in my mouth. Beer and vodka tonics washed everything down. My friends indulged in lobster, fried platters, and tons of oysters. And, if I can remember correctly, the restaurant served crab legs that night, and our table was crackin' them left and right. Afterwards, I definitely needed five lemons to squeeze on my hands to get rid of the seafood smell, and I would've rather wheeled myself out on a chair than have to stumble back towards the car. At any rate, the place was definitely worth it. As Chesapeake Bay seafooders, we definitely were happy with what our New England neighbors had to offer. We were bonded, for life.

If you're ever in Beantown, then you can't miss out on this place.
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Union Oyster House, 41 Union Street, Boston, MA 02108, 617-227-2750