I would not make a good fireman. . .

Hunched over our living room coffee table, I am eating a meatball sandwich while watching The Wire with my roommate. As I am looking at the television, my roommate says with an urgent tone "Glen, look! Your bag's on fire! What are you gonna do?" He then takes one of those kitchen lighters and lights a corner of the white paper lunch bag. I stare at the flame, not really thinking anything other than, "Did he really just light my bag on fire, and is the flame really getting bigger." Gabe continues to yell "Come on Glen, what are you gonna do? The bag is on fire! Take care of that shit." I still kind of stare at it, thinking, "What the hell am I going to do about this?" Finally, Gabe yells, "Take that shit to the sink, motherfucker!" I glanced at him with a "What the fuck did you get me into!" look, grabbed the bag and started to run. At this point, more than half the bag was on fire. I tossed it into the sink and turned the water on, but it wasn't really aimed at the bag, so I had to grab the spray thing and douse the flame. I yelled at Gabe for a few seconds, telling him that I am incapable of effectively dealing with such situations, and how he could not have anticipated the flame would be that big when it was finally put out. Then we laughed about it for a good five minutes, since it was really funny. . . .

the pats

apparently the pats are not the formula for all problem-solving and decision-making in the 21st century. . . on with life. . .

Santana. . .

Will Santana push the Mets to more victories than the Red Sox next year? Glenn seems to think so, as we made a $500 bet for the upcoming season. On paper, it looks close, especially since the e.r.a. of their starting four from last year (despite pedro's few starts) is scary. . . .hopefully Santana's agent gets nitty and the Sox counter with a last minute offer. Then I would listen to buy-out offers starting at $450. . .

3 quick reviews. . . .

The Wire Season 4: I just got it on dvd. I have ignored all discussion and accolades amongst my peers. I watched episode one this morning and it was excellent. . .savoring it though - not killing the season over a weekend like I have done with some series. . .

Smokin' Aces: This is the worst movie I have ever seen. It's not even close really.

No Country for Good Men: Good movie, real good.

I am glad I didn't go out like this. . .

I leave work at 5:30 and start ambling down the rainy sidewalk of Broad St. in Boston. I am sort of staring at the ground a bit while crossing Broad St. A van is about to turn onto Broad St. as I am crossing. Instead of waiting for me to cross the street, the van began to accelerate very fast in my general direction. My quick reaction left me in a most unfortunate spot - I flinched so hard at the van that my slippery-soled, mildly dressy shoes just slipped out from under my feet, and I fell on my elbow and my back. There I was, practically lying down in the middle of Broad Street, with a van accelerating towards me, and now I was also completely out of his direct vision. "Oh shit, THIS IS NOT HOW I WANT TO DIE!" About a millisecond later, the driver slammed the breaks, skidded, and the van stopped about five feet in front of me. I sat on the ground for about ten seconds, slowly got up, walked by the van driver, and peered in the window. He was talking on his cell phone and never looked my way; he just hit the gas again quickly and drove away. I looked around at a few people on the sidewalk who watched what had just unfolded. They all had their jaws dropped, and after a few seconds they started shaking their heads almost in unison. One guy, who was about my age, said "Wow, I can't believe that just happened. What a dick!" Then we both sort of half-smiled, and I proceeded to amble home.

Irony. . .

I ordered a credit report a while ago to make sure my credit was ok. It was, but I forgot to unsubscribe to the auto-credit report service that you sign up for to get the report. Thinking my balance was $0.00, I didn't think I had to pay a bill; but, it turns out, the credit site auto-billed my card, and I made a late payment.

GG Sony Bravia. . .

Here's the only recreation of the events possible. Someone came in through my window, shut the window almost all the way except that a roll of trace paper stopped it a few inches up. They went into my bedroom, removed my sheet from my bed, wrapped it around my tv and left through the door. Unfortunate timing as well, since I had just met up with Alex to grab some food and head over to the hospital to see Ben. We had to wait for the police to come, and then afterwards we headed to the hospital. the police came over to MGH a little later to show me some pictures of suspects. I ruled out 7 of 8 (suspect was based on a mysterious maintenance man that knocked on my door 8 a.m. and engaged me in an awkward conversation about what needed to be fixed). When it seemed as though Ben might be using too much energy acknowledging the presence of his visitors, he decided to call it a night. Now I am going to do something unusual for me (unusual in the past four or five years, that is) and fall asleep without the tv on. I have a lot on my mind regrading cruel and unjust maladies and my experiences tonight. . . .