An Important Message to Bikers Everywhere

Dear People-Who-Ride-Bikes,

I applaud you. Great job. You're saving the environment, your pant size AND the hassle of riding the T or whatever other useless form of public transportation that pertains to your city.

I CONDEMN YOU! Who do you think you are? You can't just fly through sidewalks and streets at your leisure. You do not own the road and more importantly you do not own the sidewalks. Stop trying to intimidate pedestrians just because you don't stand a chance in hell against the giant SUV trying to drive as close as possible without hitting your back tire. Your stupid bell and basket do not scare me.

I have news for you people.

YOU ARE NOT PEDESTRIANS. So when you see a red light stopping four lanes of vehicular traffic, that means STOP asshole! Not pedal faster and ram into Maria's side as she innocently walks down Comm Ave trying to further her education and become a better human being.

How dare you! You know what, if you've lost control and you're about to hit a human being the least you could do is shout a warning. If you grunt five feet from me, I'm going to think you're either constipated or really off key with whatever stupid hippy music that's blaring in your earbuds.

Stop grunting at me. Stop driving into me. Stop thinking you're a person. Bikers are not people. Turn off the iPod and follow the damn traffic lights or I will throw one of the large sticks I now carry on my walk to class into your bike spokes and laugh as you tumble into the pavement.

Yours Truly,

Maria

Booo creepy Liquor Store. HOOORAY Jake Ivory's!

(If you don't recognize that... watch this...)




Excitement = The Ann Arbor Chronicle featuring my blog (back in July... I just found out) for the following reasons:

Best imagined description of Ann Arbor in recent weeks, from the Meet Me At The Mirror blog: “Ann Arbor rang similar to a cute older woman who used to be a hippy and now spends her days sleeping outdoors and making wacky crafts inspired by her younger, LSD-induced life.” Plus a great narrative about finding a man in the bushes outside her room.

Gross = Liquor Store, the bar we visited Friday night. When I was told there'd be a mechanical bull, I (apparently naively) envisioned beer, cowboy hats, wood and a chill atmosphere. Instead, and this might be offensive to hos and perverts, I was greeted by three stripper poles, old men with cameras and red lighting, akin to whore houses in Europe.

We (Erin and I) feared that come midnight, the venue would transform into one mass orgy. Thankfully this did not happen. What DID happen however was Jess riding the bull. If you listen closely you can hear Noelle screaming, "yeeeeeea girl. Yeeeeea."


Jess Rides the Mechanical Bull. from Maria F on Vimeo.

Fantastic = Jake Ivory's, the bar we visited Saturday night. Located on Landsdowne Street right outside Fenway, the line was daunting but I knew the second we made it inside and heard two pianos playing an Outkast song that it was worth the wait. This duelling piano bar has made it to the top of my Boston Bars list.

Noelle, Tara, Erin and I met four of Erin's hilarious friends from Northeastern. This even number lended well to songs such as I Will Survive, during which the girls song-battled the guys, literally in two lines facing each other. Noelle and I engaged in a beautiful duet to the pianists' rendition of Proud Mary. Many dance-offs ensued. It was a beautiful night. We will definitely be returning to Jake Ivory's. Next time much earlier and with song requests prepared.

People send me ridiculous texts.

Aug 25 Joe: Pick a movie time turd stain.

Aug 28 Katie: Wo bist du meine sugarmuffin?

Aug 28 Nichole: You find a cheap flight I'm there quicker than B Spears can eat a cheeto. Hope your bed in a bag is fierce.

Aug 30 Evan: I mean the characters going into Fenway Park are RIDICULOUS.

Aug 30 Evan: Uh Oh. Better not do anything shady unless your shades are drawn!

Sept 2 Evan: Ugh I can't drink. I'm literally about to die. I thought my liver had failed me earlier today.

Sept 3 James: We only have two weeks to get this green card.

Sept 5 Erin: No pain no gain hahha.

Sept 8 Noelle: Don't stress don't stress don't stress. Just tell him to the left left left.

Sept 10 Noelle: Life is a whore and so are you.

Sept 10 Christina: Girl! Life's weird... And so are you!

Sept 12 Dad: Good things happen to good people.

Sept 15 Joe: Woman I will whoop your old ass all over the place.

Sept 15 Noelle: Wanna boop later?

Sept 17 Me: Make me some food wench. Noelle: Suck my peg leg.

GUEST POST My brother Steve: Saving the world one dance move at a time.

(I hope you all enjoy this post, written by my brother, as much as I did!)



After first receiving Maria’s text to write a “guest post” for her blog, a flurry of ideas came to my head. The recent selection of Sarah Palin as the Republican nominee for Vice President, the steady plunge of the US economy, the list goes on…

For those of you who are still awake you will be happy to know I chose something else, that might be perhaps equally as boring, the life of a junior (yikes!) at WPI. As we all get older (relatively) it is hard for some of us to fathom that we are about to enter the real world. We all revert back to fond memories of our childhood, whether it be summers in the sun or not having a care in the world. Those were the days…

We have now transitioned to a life where we sometimes ask ourselves, could I have any less free time? To most of us the answer is a resounding no. Days are filled with classes, meetings, work, more classes, and then more meetings. Before we know it it’s 2:00 am and time to go to sleep, just to start the process all over again.

The thing that keeps me going is knowing that the weekend is ahead. Counting down the days until I will get to let loose and have some fun, despite the fact that most of the time I really should be doing more work.

I have a feeling though that “going out” in Worcester has a whole different meaning. After reading and hearing about some of my sister’s crazy outings I must admit that I’m a bit jealous. Let me describe to you a typical WPI weekend. (As a side note I love my friends and we do have a good time… Sometimes we have to fight for it though)

Last weekend a friend of mine, Craig, decided to have some people over to pre-game before heading to a frat party. As my roommate Tim and I got ready we noticed the torrential downpour outside. I looked to him and said, “Nothing is stopping us from having a good time tonight.” He agreed. We finished getting ready, threw on our hoodies, and made the trek to Craig’s house.

By the time we got there we were completely soaked but ready to go. We had a few (read: a lot) of drinks. We figured it was the best way to ensure a good night (false logic that most people know makes things end poorly). After a few rounds of ruit and some very intense games of flip cup we decided to head to the party.

As was expected it was completely dead. Not only that but they wouldn’t let Craig in because he didn’t have an ID so he had to run all the way home to get it. As I stood there waiting for Craig to get back I decided to talk to one of the brothers. “How many people have you guys let in so far?” “Eight.” Awesome… It’s 11:00 on a Friday night and they’ve let in 8 people. Having my previous conversation with Tim in the back of my head we made our way downstairs to the party room.

It was no surprise to find that there was no one dancing. I looked around and saw some small groups mingling. Common trait: all guys. This was no shock to any of us. Answer? Double fisting. I went over to the bar, gave them my two tickets, and got two Miller High Life’s.

As I walked back to where my group of friends was standing I noticed more people were arriving, good news. The mood of the group was somber and I felt the need to inject some vitality back into the lives of my seemingly dead friends.

“Let’s dance!” I said enthusiastically. By this time the games of flip cup and my double fisting were starting to catch up with me and by this time of night I’m usually in the mood to dance. As a side note I say dance very very loosely. My sister and her roommates can attest to this. (Hi Usher!) Alright maybe my dancing in public isn’t THAT embarrassing but it’s still a white guy who goes to a tech school trying to dance, you get the picture.

I received a resounding 2 yes’s to my proposition and Jesse, Craig and I hit the dance floor, alone. As we kept waving to our friends like we belonged in a mental institute they slowly came over and joined us (I think it was more out of embarrassment than their actually wanting to dance). Accompanying this with my random requests to strangers to come join us the party actually started to get good. People kept joining and eventually the dance floor was full. Everyone was in high spirits and the night looked to have turned around.

I guess the moral of the story is this: even at WPI… where the ratio of guys to girls is about 3:1… during a torrential downpour… there is still fun to be had. So for those of you who have had as long of a week as I have, I leave you with this: Don’t let anything stop you. We’ve all had those nights, but there’s always a way to get the party started. So drink some beers and have some fun!

Twitter, the Dean, and mold.. OH MY!

I might have to purchase some of these to bring my lunch to work in. Not that I'm afraid someone will steal my lunch. It's no Jimmy Johns or anything...



Seriously though. I need a lunch box. So if anyone has suggestions, please share.





...

Apparently Forbes decided Boston was the 7th best city for singles.... Hmm. Really?? Atlanta was number one.





...

Recently discovered Twittervision while perusing some blogs. Interesting to see who in the world is updating.


..

Speaking of Twitter... Dean Elmore joined the club! (He even blogs! My word!) It's pretty awesome. His updates are interesting and a great way to connect with the massive student body at BU.

I think I might e-mail him and tell him to follow people because he's missing messages people are sending his way... Maybe I'll meet him at the BU Pub to discuss social media and beer.



...

This is what I drive to work in:

Like sand through the hour glass...

The general consensus seems to be that no one in the class of '09 can comprehend the fact that we are now seniors. People have serious internships, are starting to worry about jobs, money, life after college, what happens next...

BUT it's not THAT close yet.

Our mantra, the oh-so-cliche-but-necessary, "work hard, play hard" has been in full force. This was the best weekend ever. By Sunday I felt pretty tired but the excitement induced an adrenaline rush that resulted in hundreds of pages being read. So then I decided that I want to be able to say every weekend was the best weekend ever. Since I returned to Boston about two weeks ago, I've been able to say that. I guess I'm on track!

FRIDAY

Umbrella Today told me I should probably bring an umbrella with me. So I did.

I finally met the other intern at work. She's pretty awesome. We bonded over lunch in the Prudential Center. We share similar views on Boston, the dating scene and our love of all things free.

After work I turned in my 41 page summer internship report. On the cover I displayed one of my tasks as an intern this summer: Have my photo taken while kissing some Astra.



While at Kinkos having my report printed on beautiful glossy paper, I ran into an old classmate from sophomore year who was doing the same. He gave me a ride home. I was very happy I didn't have to walk, considering it was about to rain.

I napped for an extensive period of time (after reading about ritual in Bali) and woke up just in time to get ready for an evening out.

Friday's destination? Gypsy.

The crowd was very diverse, ranging from half naked college girls to middle-aged business men awkwardly bouncing under the lasers to techno and rap mash-ups. The music was a fantastic mix of Top 40s, 90s, oldies, rock and techno. Their choice to close the night with Build Me Up Buttercup was interesting, but it worked.

Did I mention Gypsy was voted Boston's best pickup bar?

It was, in fact, no such thing. I say this while reliving a rather awkward scene toward the end of the night. The girls and I created a large dance circle in the middle of the floor and were dancing (or in my case... attempting to dance) when all of a sudden I felt a tap on my hip. I clenched my fist and whipped around to find a man exactly one foot shorter than I with a huge grin on his face beckoning me to be his dance partner. I respectfully declined laughed in his face, waved my hand to signal "I don't think so" and returned to the dance circle.

Similar situations repeated through the night.

Strange Russian man: (To Christina and I) Do you girls want to dance? I'm a bouncer here on Wednesdays and Saturdays.
Me: That's nice. We're going to need a minute, actually, if you could leave.

(Some European-looking man approaches the circle and opens his mouth to speak.)
Noelle: (Puts up hand) No thank you.

Later that night we spent some quality time with the Irish. Hilarity ensued.


SATURDAY

Exhaustion lead to a two hour nap on the couch, mouth agape, while Noelle and Michelle worked on homework at the kitchen table.

Revived, we headed to Banana Republic for the 40% Friends and Family discount graciously bestowed upon us by our favorite BR employee, Jess. Christina tried on the entire store and flattered the cashier endlessly as she discounted every item Christina threw at her.

We shopped. Almost dropped due to starvation. Noelle, Christina and I rushed Champions and ordered most of the menu. Even though we were the only table of girls (large male Red Sox fans dominated the area) we ate more than all of them combined, washing down our feast with a pitcher of Bass. Don't judge.



We waddled to the T stop, went home long enough for me to change and then Michelle, Erin and I headed to the Bell in Hand where my favorite local cover band, Jimmy's Down, was playing. The music was amazing.

Some (good looking) Australian men waved their passports at us. Apparently the new trend dictates that passports get girls. The three of us smiled politely then made our own little dance circle and thrashed around to Cake, Bruce Springstein, Pearl Jam and so much more. The Australians went crazy when the band played Down Under. Good times.

The bar closed early due to construction. We walked up to the main road to catch a cab. We then met Tony, the cab driver from the Phillipines.

Tony: Everyone happy! You boogie boogie all night!
Us: Hah. Yea.

[Later]

Meesh: So what do you do in your free time?
Tony: I hunt.
Me: Hunt what? College kids?
Tony: Lady friends.
Me: You should hit the clubs.
Tony: I don't know how to dance. I need a nice lady to teach me the one step and the two step.

[Later]

Tony: You need a cab later? Take my number!



Ooohh Boston.

The Irish: Things I Learned and Things They Say

Things I learned:

• Wiggyback = Piggyback
• Crusty = A person who smokes a lot of pot, has poor hygiene and is a hippy. This is generally looked down upon.
• Jog on = Piss off.
  
• Public buses have an extremely negative connotation. You would have thought we had tied them down and drank all their liquor in front of them the way they reacted when we suggested taking the BU bus... the FREE BU bus.
• Personal censors do not exist. They say anything they want to whomever they want. (This may be due to the fact that they are often intoxicated.)
• The solution to every dilemma is, "live a little."
  

Things they say:

What's the crack?

• TRANSLATION: What's the deal? or What's up?
  
• CONFUSION ENSUES: Sean: What's the crack? Meesh: Why do they keep talking about crack? Sean: They think we're talking about drugs! [Sean and James burst into laughter]

Look at that gingervitis!

• TRANSLATION: Look at that red-headed person! [Red-headedness being a disease in most every case.]
  
• CONFUSION ENSUES: The red-head chuckles after misunderstanding the insult, directed at her, instead thinking a joke was made about dental hygiene.

Are you taking the piss?

• TRANSLATION: Are you kidding me? or Are you pulling my leg?
• CONFUSION ENSUES: Meesh: No, he can not come over. James: Why? Are you afraid of him? Meesh: Yes. I'm afraid your friend is going to pee on me. (Although that was probably because the friend was urinating in public.)

It feels like I have a wildebeast in my mouth!

• TRANSLATION: My mouth is on fire because this sandwich is incredibly spicy!
• CONFUSION ENSUES: No confusion. Hilarity ensues.
  

Senior year: Breaking language barriers and conquering new countries every weekend!!!

In the words of Operation Ivy...

TAKE WARNING: If you are in Boston and value your personal space (AKA you would like at least one inch between you and others so as to avoid uninvited molestation) AVOID the Kells in Allston.

Friday night we decided to check it out. My oh my. Even our group of about six girls was swarmed immediately upon placing a big toe over the dancefloor threshold. Needless to say, we lasted for about half a song before issuing beat downs on our way out.

Boston is a dangerous place for single girls. Thankfully, not only have I taken boxing and karate but I know how to disassemble a rib cage with my big toe. And I'm not afraid to do it.

After escaping the Kells, we headed home making a pit stop at White Horse. It was my first time there. We showed up late and only stayed long enough for some stranger to tell me he was going to put me in his "fave five." Unique, I'll give him that. As we exited the bar, bouncers passed out candy. I have no idea why.

Saturday night the girls and I played board games in my room. Don't judge me... there was a tropical storm brewing outside my window.

Christina, God love her, whipped up a five course meal for all of us... then had problems washing dishes. It was her first time and she wasn't sure if she should use the same sponge on all her plates, bowls and utensils. We're learning. The meal was divine and thoroughly cooked unlike the one I attempted.

How bout those VMAs! When I grow up, I want to be Katy Perry. Or maybe just for Halloween. [When someone posts the banana pic I'll show you...]

From the mailbox: Dad Approval Factor

Sometimes, I am lucky enough to get e-mails from readers. I received this e-mail from a certain father of mine:

That has such a negative connotation, as in I disapprove of everything, it is just a matter of degree to which I disapprove.

Why can't you use the inverse, and much better sounding, Dad Approval Factor? It sounds so much more positive, and from a numbers perspective, it is exactly the same.

Come on, use some of those expansive (or did I mean expensive?) PR skills.

For example, "Choke", disapproval factor = 93%, or "Choke" approval factor = 7%. Same result (although I am guessing my approval factor would probably be closer to zero).

Remember, math is your friend!

Hopefully this post's Dad Approval Factor is above 50%.



Keep 'em coming, folks.

Now that we've read the pants book...

So I've managed to add new burns to my body. The other night while cooking spaghetti, I spilled boiling water over my left hand and now I have a strange mark across my wrist.

Other than that, the start of the year has been successful. I've had three classes. The fourth will start Monday. I've explored several new bars around Boston. I've settled in and seen many (but not all) of the people I want to see.

Apparently some think I'm a freshman. That hurts. One thirteen year old called me "seasoned." I wasn't sure whether to feel like a rotisserie chicken or an old lady so I just smacked her.

Here are some highlights from my first week of classes:

INTRO TO CULTURAL ANTHROPOLOGY:

• Can you wave to a chimp and say, "I need a sample?" No. You need to watch where they piss and take it.
• People who try to open beer bottles with their front teeth might breed a new kind of evolved teeth. Or they may lose their teeth and never breed at all.
• The truth is too valuable to be given freely.
• We expand your brain. And it hurts sometimes.
• [Theme of the Year # 3] Make the strange familiar. Consider there's another way.

ORGANIZATIONAL STRUCTURE & BEHAVIOR:

• Plagiarism... It's a no-no.

THEORY AND PROCESS OF COMMUNICATION:

• You may now use your cell phones to insert my phone number. And office number. And e-mail address.
• If you have a family tragedy or break up with your boyfriend, I don't care and will not treat you like the other students.

Can't wait to see what happens next week.

The view from the top.

WELL.

I've been in Boston for five days and have finally finished organizing my room. An abundance of distractions have kept me from setting up. Cleaning my room usually falls low on the priorities list though so that's no shocker.





Here's a wrap up of the start of the semester.

Thursday we went to Sunset Cantina for Michelle's birthday and got free shots and rave pins. Then we went to Joshua Tree and met 30 Irish folk, one of whom decided we should get married because he needs a green card. He announced my newly determined status as "wife" while his friend asked me if I thought it would be mean if he threw his shoe at a stranger. I obviously said no.

Friday was glorious because everyone was back. We went to The Greatest Bar. That's the name of it. It was not, in fact, the greatest bar. But that was to be expected. We still had a fun time. After all, Theme of the Year #1 = It's not where you are, but who you're with.

Saturday Jess and I went for breakfast in Noelle's room where she made us scrambled eggs. That night, we went to one of my favorite bars in Boston, Bell in Hand. My favorite cover band was not playing, but Dave came out and Katie and I reunited, finally.

Sunday was fantastic. Noelle and Christina woke me up early to go to the Boston Commons. They wanted to tan. We found a perfect spot right in front of the State House. Little did we know that by laying there we became a destination on the Freedom Trail. After that we went shopping for room stuff and got trapped in a herd of freshmen trying to walk back home. We joined Christina in her room for some violent games of Civil War. Michelle, Christina and I hit the bars and eventually ended up at Cask N Flagon where I met a scalper. Which leads me to Theme of the Year # 2 = It's all fixed. Those were the scalper's wise words.

By this morning I was losing steam. Jess and Noelle dragged me out of bed to go to the BU Beach. I napped in the shade while people took pictures and tried to wake me up. We went to a building pot luck. Which wasn't as exciting as I anticipated. But I finally organized my room, which apparently has pretty good feng shui, according to Tara.

We forgot to say Rabbit Rabbit right at midnight but this is what we'll be seeing every night for the next nine months so life is looking pretty good these days.