Grandma wants the juicy details.

F Family tradition dictates that on Christmas Even the kids get to open one gift. Steve got The Octagon, a photography book featuring UFC fighters all beat up and nasty.

He flipped through the book with Gram. She was very concerned and appalled.

Gram: Do you wear something to protect your personal parts?

Reaction:

Grandma's Question from Maria F on Vimeo.

Weirdos in Logan, and Other Tales From the Road. Chapter Ten.

Forward
Chapter One: The Shadowboxing Magician
Chapter Two: Bug Eyes
Chapter Three: Lasso of Death
Chapter Four: Future Pilot
Chapter Five: Soldiers Making Out
Chapter Six: Steve Almost Pees Himself. Literally.
Chapter Seven: Schwayze's playing tonight but Uncle Bob is trying to hang squirrels.
Chapter Eight: On the Ice: Big Mike Scores Big and Anna Skates Away
Chapter Nine: Buca di Beppo: Crop Dusting and Gorging
Chapter Ten: Peppermint Bark


I am so glad I held on to the Peppermint Bark recipe.

Anna and I blast Fiona Apple on our way to the grocery store. Tonight is her last night; we will attempt Peppermint Bark.

We collect all our ingredients and start cooking.


It is 11:30 pm. While the chocolate melts, we try to figure out how to crush 6 oz of candy canes without waking anyone.


We put the candy canes in a freezer bag, each grab a weapon and run outside to beat the canes on the driveway.

BRRRRRR.

Our Peppermint Bark turned out heavenly. It was devoured in less than 24 hours.

Great success.

Weirdos in Logan, and Other Tales From the Road. Chapter Nine.

Forward
Chapter One: The Shadowboxing Magician
Chapter Two: Bug Eyes
Chapter Three: Lasso of Death
Chapter Four: Future Pilot
Chapter Five: Soldiers Making Out
Chapter Six: Steve Almost Pees Himself. Literally.
Chapter Seven: Schwayze's playing tonight but Uncle Bob is trying to hang a squirrel.
Chapter Eight: On the Ice. Big Mike Scores Big and Anna Speeds Around.
Chapter Nine: Buca di Beppo: Crop Dusting and Gorging

Buca di Beppo is a small Italian restaurant in downtown Birmingham. It's dad's favorite. The decor is random and awesome with strange pictures covering the walls and tacky little do-dads hidden everywhere. The tables are in the basement; it looks like what I'd imagine a Speak Easy to have been but with more booths and brighter lighting.

Ten of us shuffle into a booth by a 3 foot picture of a girl with her chest popping out of a leotard being fed spaghetti by some unidentified man. The servings are family style so we order many large dishes to share.

We stuff ourselves to capacity. The food is delicious. Dessert comes and Aunty Ann starts drooling.



Steve calls dad and Uncle Bob secret fat kids because they are arguing over which of them will get how much of which dessert. We all battle the food coma at the end of the meal.


As we stood to put on our coats, one person in the party who's identity will be protected, announced that everyone should stay away because they were crop dusting.

This is one of many new words Anna learned while staying with her cousins.

Crop dusting
	v. farting while walking or running n. crop duster

Joe's expert predictions hold that this will be a good year for crops.

Weirdos in Logan, and Other Tales From the Road. Chapter Eight.

Forward
Chapter One: The Shadowboxing Magician
Chapter Two: Bug Eyes
Chapter Three: Lasso of Death
Chapter Four: Future Pilot
Chapter Five: Soldiers Making Out
Chapter Six: Steve Almost Pees Himself. Literally.
Chapter Seven: Schwayze's playing tonight but Uncle Bob is trying to hang a squirrel.
Chapter Eight: On the Ice. Big Mike Scores Big and Anna Speeds Around.

We are finally home! Our luggage is not. But it's good to see family and be out of the airport.

Uncle Bob did,, in fact set up a wire noose to trap squirrels in the back yard. I don't know what he plans to do with them. Or what on earth he's thinking.

We haven't seen our cousins in three years. We catch up in the kitchen and over dinner then head to dad's hockey game.

Dad plays hockey at least once a week. I'm so glad we get to watch! In the bleachers, Steve and Joe scream "Let's go Big Mike!" every time dad hits the ice. I commentate for Anna, explaining some of the rules and the calls. She asks if I'm a Tom Boy.

The opposing team is changing lines. We spot an older man with a white beard, green shorts and bright red socks. He looks creepily like Santa. Another player on the opposite team is bleeding form the face. Did dad do that to him? Santa gets a penalty and is guided to the box.

Dad's the man. He scores two goals, one on an awesome breakaway. He's rising in the ranks of goal scorers for the league. He averages about one goal per game. Tonight he's on fire and leads the team to victory. That's my dad!


The next day dad brings us all ice skating. Anna hasn't been in a while. The last time she went she was injured badly.

What a trooper. She laces up and joins us on the ice. At first she won't leave the side but she eventually picks up the pace and moves toward the center. Dad teaches Dominic to skate backwards.


The four boys play tag on the ice, zipping around little kids and novices. Steve looks like a ninja and Joe is checking out some high school girls in spandex.

Good to be home!

(me and the cousins)

Weirdos in Logan, and Other Tales From the Road. Chapter Seven.

Forward
Chapter One: The Shadowboxing Magician
Chapter Two: Bug Eyes
Chapter Three: Lasso of Death
Chapter Four: Future Pilot
Chapter Five: Soldiers Making Out
Chapter Six: Steve Almost Pees Himself. Literally.
Chapter Seven: Schwayze's playing Tonight but Uncle Bob's trying to hang a squirrel.

Arv was one of the many fun people we met during our travels. We met in Cleveland trying to get to Detroit.

Arv is from India but lives in Detroit. He has long, black hair tied back in a messy pony tail. Strands of hair frame his bearded face and fall in front of his thick, black glasses. His bright eyes pop out of his head. He is easily excited.

Arv is quiet for the most part. He's a better listener than speaker. A camouflage coat hangs from his over-the-shoulder messenger bag. He is wearing black, low-top Converse and looks like a musician or film student.

We talk a lot about Boston. He used to live there and is familiar with Commonwealth Ave. His friend teaches Musicology at BU. Arv tells me to check out the class and asks if I've ever been to Super 88. Pssh. Duh.

His laugh is contagious. He chuckles at every joke Steve and I make. He enjoys our banter as we make fun of people walking by us.

In the van to Detroit, he offers to give us a ride home. He's making his mom pick him up, he says. Dad calls to ask me yes-or-no questions to determine if Arv is a serial killer trying to lure us into his basement. We determine it's okay to take the ride.

Detroit airport is chaotic. Arv's mom is held up so I go to the bathroom and to the bagel place. I haven't eaten all day. While standing in line, I get a text from Steve prompting me to guess Arv's age. Late twenties, I reply.

Try ten years more, he answers. Arv is nearing 40. We are perplexed.

Arv's mom arrives 45 minutes later. She is a small Indian woman who has an equally contagious laugh. On the car ride home, Arv offers information about the Schwayze concert tonight. He might check it out. We should look into it, he says.

My phone vibrates. It's a text from my dad.

"I'll be waiting. Uncle Bob is at the hardware store buying wire to hang a squirrel in our back yard. See you soon."

Here we go.

Weirdos in Logan, and Other Tales From the Road. Chapter Six.

Forward
Chapter One: The Shadowboxing Magician
Chapter Two: Bug Eyes
Chapter Three: Lasso of Death
Chapter Four: Future Pilot
Chapter Five: Soldiers Making Out
Chapter Six: Steve Almost Pees Himself. Literally.

"Do you think I can pee in this bottle?" Steve whispers, lifting a Poland Springs water bottle out of the cup holder.

"What? Absolutely not. We're almost there," I tell him.

Who even knows where we are. I've been sitting bitch in the back of a big van with eight strangers for over two hours. I just want to get home.

"Seriously. I have to go bad," Steve informs me, eyes wide and leg twitching. "Ask him how close we are."

"No. You ask him. You're the one who has to pee."

"Seriously, Maria it's not funny. Ask him. I can't. COME ON!"

Steve starts loosening the bottle cap when he realizes I won't ask.

"STEVE! You can't pee in that bottle. We are in a van full of strangers! There's a girl sitting right next to me! Relax!"

I'm on the verge of tears laughing so hard. Steve is angry because I'm laughing instead of solving his problem. He loosens his seat belt and looks out all windows for a sign or a suitable tree.

"MARIA!"

"... Sir!" I say in a shaky voice laughing hysterically. "Do you know about how far we are?" I am trying to contain my laughter. The driver doesn't hear me.

Arv is sitting in the row in front of us just behind the driver. He leans over and repeats my question.

"Oh! We're about two hours out!" the driver chuckles.

"Make him fucking pull over," Steve screams in my ear. "I can't wait."

The tears are flowing. The driver says he's joking and we'll be at Detroit Metro Airport in about fifteen minutes. It's the next exit. I tell Steve to relax, but he can't. He is sitting on the edge of his seat, one hand on the water bottle, eyes beckoning the exit. Five minutes go by. Ten minutes go by.

"Maria, ask him to pull over or I will piss in this bottle," he says testing his belt buckle and trying to work out the logistics of subtly pissing in a bottle in the back of a crowded van.

"Steve calm down now. There's nothing I can do. We're almost there."

Arv turns around and asks if he's going to be okay. I tell him no.

"I'M GOING TO PISS MYSELF," Steve announces to the van. "I have to go bad!"

I am crying hysterically. Arv is staring concernedly. Everyone else ignores him, not sure what to do.

We drive off the exit and approach the airport. There's a lot of traffic and we're not moving very fast.

Steve stares at me. He stares at the traffic. His shaking leg is moving the van. The driver has no idea. Arv keeps looking back to see if Steve has pissed himself yet.

We finally reach the building but the driver can't find the Delta gate. Steve is grunting. His eyes are watering. The driver goes on and on about holiday travel and the awful traffic jams. Arv notices that Steve is about to give up.

"Can we just let him out here?" he asks the van. "Can you stop quick so he can go?"

"He's going to have an emergency," I add.

The driver pulls over and Steve runs out of the van sprinting toward the door without a word. We can see him hustling through the glass windows. I am laughing hysterically in the silent van.

Crisis averted.

Weirdos in Logan, and Other Tales From the Road. Chapter Five.

Forward
Chapter One: The Shadowboxing Magician
Chapter Two: Bug Eyes
Chapter Three: Lasso of Death
Chapter Four: Future Pilot
Chapter Five: Soldiers Making Out

We hear the clicking of her high heels as she makes her way from Belt 6 to Belt 4.

Steve and I are approaching one hour on the floor of Cleveland International.

The clicking grows louder and eventually stops four feet in front of Steve, Arv and I. The three of us look up to find a woman with big, blown out hair latch on to a scrawny soldier, who, like dozens more, is just returning from deployment.

The two start making out. Hardcore. Their two daughters videotape the whole thing saying, "Yea! Keep her there! Yea!"

This would have been a lot more disturbing without the visual.

An older gentleman approaches the couple and taps the soldier on the shoulder. The soldier removes his tongue from the woman's throat saying, "Yea?"

"Did you just come back sir?"

The soldier, without answering, continues to attack the woman's face with his mouth. The older man meekly says, "...oh... just wanted.. to thank you for everything... and... yea..."

The soldier acknowledges this, shakes the man's hand, apologizes for his short attention span and continues to make out with the woman as the older man walks away.

Later we see an older soldier greet his wife, grandchild and daughter. He hugs his wife for three second, hugs his daughter for two and pats his grandchild on the head.

"That's what happens," Steve observes. "When you get older, passion goes away. This guy's just like, 'Oh hey! What's up? Good to see you!'"

Weirdos in Logan, and Other Tales From the Road. Chapter Four.

Forward
Chapter One: The Shadowboxing Magician
Chapter Two: Bug Eyes
Chapter Three: Lasso of Death
Chapter Four: Future Pilot

Steve and I are sitting on the floor in Cleveland-Hopkins International, waiting for a van to bring us to Detroit. I've never been here. It looks like every other airport baggage claim in the world.

We meet Arv. We saw him last night in Cincinnati. He is also trying to get to Detroit. The three of us have been sitting on the floor for some time now talking about Boston and people walking by. An older man approaches us.

"Can I get an M from the choir?" he inquires, trying to inspire a Christmas sing-a-long.

No one budges.

"Hey, who wants to learn how to fly?" he asks.

The three of us look at each other. Does he mean right now? Have they run out of pilots to transport people this holiday season? Is he senile? Does he want to kidnap us and hide us in some secret sector deep in the center of the airport?

"I do! I want to learn to fly," Arv announces, taking the bait.

The old man pulls his fist out of his pocket and reveals three pins. He passes one to each of us. The pins read, "Future Pilot." Sweet. He tells us that if we bring it to an AOPA flight school, we will be taken up in a plane that same day and the pilot will let us take control of the aircraft for a few minutes. No. Freakin. Way.

The old man seduces us with stories from flights he'd taken in previous years. He told us of the time he took his wife up in a plane and did a barrel roll and scared her to death.

As he told us about the time he almost flew into a sign, I noticed a pin on his bright yellow blazer that read, "volunteer." I was happy for the distraction.

Arv wore his pin home. Steve gave me his.

I need to find an airport and get some lessons so I can start announcing with authority, "This is your captain, Maria, speaking. Buckle up. We're in for a bumpy ride."

Weirdos in Logan, and Other Tales From the Road. Chapter Three.

Forward
Chapter One: The Shadowboxing Magician
Chapter Two: Bug Eyes
Chapter Three: Lasso of Death


"That guy's trying hard to get some ass," Steve observes as we sit in a crowded Cincinnati airport.

We are eating a late dinner while staring at a man in his mid-twenties chatting up the three girls surrounding him, one on either side and one in front of him. Their grimaces prove the girls aren't buying it.

"He's just one of those guys who's always talking. It's like a lasso of death," Steve told me as we watched the kid start talking to a young soldier after being shunned by the girls. "I would kill myself over there."

The kid moves from person to person eager for any audience, though he prefers a female one. He is over confident in his mediocre muscles. His skin tight shirt gives him the extra boost of confidence he needs to approach men and women alike.

Aaah. Little Man Syndrome.

No one wants to hear it. The first girl opens her phone, pretending to answer an important text. Any excuse to ignore the pointless but persistent chatter. The other girls stand up and leave.

It's been a long day. It's too difficult to pretend to be nice. Anything would be better than the lasso of death.

Someone get this kid a bigger shirt.

Weirdos in Logan, and Other Tales From the Road. Chapter Two.

Forward
Chapter One: The Shadowboxing Magician
Chapter Two: Bug Eyes

I look up from a brief staring match with my iPod to see a deranged woman standing two feet in front of Steve and I, peering intently out the window. The woman's eyes were bulging out of her head as she tried to will her plane to arrive.

Does she know Logan International has been temporarily shut down?

Her hair has not been tended to in days. She looks like she's been waiting for a week.

A group of pilots stand huddled by the check-in desk. The woman presses herself against the window in an attempt to hear their conversation. She's a stealth master. Double agent.

I turn to Steve and inform him that if we are stuck in Logan much longer, I will go crazy.

The woman snaps her head around, eyes red and popping out of her forehead, and shrieks, "Go where?"

"Excuse me?" I ask.

"Where's that plane going?"

"Oh. I don't know. Nowhere apparently."

Now I see, it is too late for some travelers. Insanity sets in after about four hours of uninformed confinement.

Weirdos in Logan, and Other Tales From the Road. Chapter One.

Forward
Chapter One: The Shadowboxing Magician

A young guy stands just over six feet tall with hair that's a little too long and bushy for his narrow face. The sleeves of his black ski jacket are a little too short for his arms.

We have been sitting here for hours.

He stands to stretch and his sleeves fall revealing hands and wrists bound in black Everlast boxing wraps. He clutches his fists while standing idly. His piercing eyes survey the airport searching for possible opponents. He can take them. Eyebrow raised and jaw protruding, he throws a few punches into the air as subtly but convincingly as he can.

He must not waste a second of time. A true fighter never rests. They train when and where they can. He wouldn't be caught dead without his wraps securely fastened, prepared for battle.

But that's not all he's traveling with.

He stealthily slides a stack of cards out of his inside coat sleeve and practices shuffling and card tricks. Jack of all trades. He's always training for something. Always prepared.

"Tool," Steve observes.

Weirdos in Logan, and Other Tales From the Road

(Pic)

What you are about to read is the tale of two innocent travelers unwillingly sucked into holiday travel mayhem. They kicked. They screamed. They cursed Delta and every person inside the four airports they saw in two days.

Saturday, December 20th, Maria and Steve left to Logan Airport and experienced six and a half hours of torture awaiting a plane to Cincinnati. After defrosting on the tar mac for one hour, they were flown to Cincinnati where they sat in the airport, two of twenty other stand-by-to-Detroit passengers, only to discover they would be spending the night in Cincinnati.

Shuttled to a Marriott in Kentucky, the two were happy they had free wireless even though there was not enough hotel shampoo to cover both their heads. At six in the morning, they were shuttled back to the Cincinnati airport where they found passengers asleep under benches and familiar yet unshowered travelers they had encountered the night before.

Maria and Steve were flown to Cleveland in a puddle jumper. They were then driven three hours to Detroit with five other strangers. When they arrived, they determined their luggage was somewhere else in the country. A stranger drove them home, where they were greeted by their family, who almost forgot they were even coming because they were trying to kill squirrels in the back yard.

The following stories are true.

Chapter One: The Shadowboxing Magician
Chapter Two: Bug Eyes
Chapter Three: Lasso of Death
Chapter Four: I'm a Future Pilot
Chapter Five: Soldiers making out.
Chapter Six: Steve almost pees himself. Literally.
Chapter Seven: Schwayze's playing tonight but Uncle Bob's trying to hang a squirrel.
Chapter Eight: On the ice. Big Mike Scores Big and Anna Speeds Around
Chapter Nine: Bucca de Beppo: Crop Dusting and Gorging
Chapter Ten: Peppermint Bark.

How to avoid a mental breakdown during stressful holiday travel:

1. BE EARLY. Pack the night before so you have one less thing to worry about the day of travel. Get to the gate earlier than usual.
   
2. BE PREPARED. Pack light. Don't break the weight limit. Assemble a small emergency kit in case you get stuck in Cincinnati overnight with no contact solution, brush or change of clothes.
3. PACK RELAXING. Don't forget that little something that reminds you that it's not the end of the world. For me, that's my iPod. For Steve, that's a book about Wireless Security.
   
4. BRING A BUDDY. If possible, this will save your sanity and make the trip enjoyable. Steve and I have thoroughly enjoyed people watching and making fun of the weirdos we've been trapped with. You really learn a lot about strangers when you're with them in a small space for 6.5 hours.
   
5. MAKE FRIENDS. Everyone is trapped and cranky, just like you. Be friendly. Meet some new people. Commiserate. It will help pass time and you may realize that the complete stranger sitting next to you in the airport is not only cute and on the crew team at his college but also good friends with one of the 50 kids you went to high school with.
6. DON'T PANIC. You're going to hit some speed bumps in your holiday travels. Some may resemble a small but annoying tree branch like when the entire handle of Steve's suitcase ripped out while he was dragging it through 6 inches of snow and a blizzard. Other obstacles may resemble a deer speeding toward your windshield, like when all flights to Logan were being diverted to Providence or when we discovered we were two of over ten people trying to fly standby to Detroit and ended up stuck here in Cincinnati overnight instead. Panicking will not solve anything. Shrug it off. You will get home eventually.
   
7. BE PATIENT. Understand that everyone is extremely stressed out. Everyone hates the situation. Are screaming babies bringing out those voices inside your head tempting you to punt the baby down the aisle? Ignore them! Turn up your iPod, keep your feet on the ground and wait for the parents to control that demon child.
   
8. BE NICE. The airport attendants are dealing with hundreds of people just as upset and frustrated as you are. Smile and be polite when asking them why the hell you're still sitting in Logan Airport when you should have already made your connection, driven home and cracked a beer by now.
   
9. ASSESS YOUR OPTIONS. They're out there. Usually the airline will do what they can to help you. Delta has been great despite the situation. There's always another way to achieve your goal. Just take a deep breath and find it.
   
10. TAKE ADVANTAGE. I am in a comfy hotel with a confirmed flight (albeit not to my desired destination... there will be ground transportation bringing us the remaining three hours) and a food voucher for breakfast. Thank you, Delta.

Good luck out there, people. It's a rough one this year.

This Winter Wonderland is ruining my life.

I am FINALLY finished!!!! No more finals!!!! Now, all I have to do is get to Michigan. Which may be more difficult than I imagined.



Michelle was supposed to fly out tonight but her flight was canceled... Then her re-booked flight for tomorrow morning was canceled... So tonight I will be having nightmares of Logan Airport packed with angry students and old people. I am not a very patient person when traveling. I get claustrophobic sometimes. This is not a good combination.

If I weren't flying out tomorrow I'd be loving this snow storm!



It's a winter wonderland!



Christina! My dark little snow angel!



Fed Steve for the third time since he arrived this afternoon (not including snacks) and he's out.

In ten hours I will be the happiest person alive.

All this Mountain Dew has rendered me speechless.



Hey you know what else is yellow and good? The Bruins. The game tonight was fantastic, even though I did miss 3 goals because the TV was on mute so I could study. Yea David Krejci and your super sweet hat trick! You're my hero. (Call me!)



Fiona During Finals:
One of my favorite Fiona Apple songs, Get Him Back. This would probably be on my Life Soundtrack.

This clip is the song and a pretty funny interview during which she has clearly smoked more green than she's wearing on her body.

Countdown to Freedom: Maria’s Checklist

12/9: Theories and Processes of Communication final paper presentation

12/11: Theories and Processes of Communication final paper due

12/12: Office party (woo)

12/13: Secret Santa with 426

12/15: Cultural Anthropology final paper due

12/16: Conflict Res and Negotiation presentation

12/16: Conflict Res and Negotiation final exam

12/18: Cultural Anthropology final exam

12/19: Theories and Processes of Communication final exam

12/20: FLY HOME

Michael Phelps' Bitchin Beard

I'm sure you heard the BU girls giddily screaming and scraping on piles of make-up before trying to steal a glimpse of Michael Phelps hoping he would leap out of BU's Agganis Arena pool like the MerMan he is and propose to them on the spot. Unfortunately, he was too busy filming a Subway commercial with Jared for the Superbowl. (... my insider sources tell me...)

Reactions to the news of Michael Phelps' presence two feet from my residence were varied. They ranged from "did you tell him your mother loves him?" to "go punch him in the baby maker" to "stop chasing Michael Phelps please" and finally "he's such a goon."

Goon or not. You can NOT deny.

That Michael Phelps.

Has one Bitchin Beard!!!

Forget aerodynamics, Michael. Plus... you can't call someone with a beard "butterface" and you have GOT to be sick of hearing that.






(Previous Bitchin Beard recipients)

The Last 24 Hours

Things I've done:

• Become obsessed with Manhunters
• Given a presentation on the protests in Greece
• Taken a final exam
• Reintroduced the "Maria's excited bark" after seeing snow on the ground
• Made my Christmas list (it's in your inboxes, mom and dad)
• Had a dance party to Safety Dance with Ali

Conversations I've had:

Maria: Oh! You know that swimmer Michael Phelps? He's shooting a commercial right next to my apartment.
Yai: Why aren't you talking to him!
Maria: I can't just talk to him. There are security guards and police everywhere.
Yai: You go. You tell them your Yia-yia is 90 years old and wants an autograph.
Maria: Yai... you're not 90.
Yai: Lie.


[Via e-mail]
Dad: Please remember to bring the gift certificate when you come home.
Maria: It's already in my wallet beeyotch.
Dad: That is improper spelling.


Maria: EEEEPPP.
Ali: You make weird noises.

Countdown to Freedom: Maria’s Checklist

12/9: Theories and Processes of Communication final paper presentation

12/11: Theories and Processes of Communication final paper due

12/12: Office party (woo)

12/13: Secret Santa with 426

12/15: Cultural Anthropology final paper due

12/16: Conflict Res and Negotiation presentation

12/16: Conflict Res and Negotiation final exam

12/18: Cultural Anthropology final exam

12/19: Theories and Processes of Communication final exam

12/20: FLY HOME

All hopped up on caffeine

I am dizzy.

Perhaps it's because I've consumed 1/2 bottle of Mountain Dew, 1/2 bottle of Coke and 1/2 giant bag of peanut M&Ms while accumulating bed sores from sitting on the couch since 10 AM writing my cultural anthropology final paper.

Aah, finals week. You slay me.

Let me tell you how Ali saved my life. One word.

EasyBib.com.

WOW! So glad this was kept a little secret until my last paper during my second to last semester ever!!! Sweet! Bibliographies would have been so much easier (and more accurate) if I had discovered this little beaut earlier. So it's my Christmas gift to those of you still crying over bibliographies.

Anywho.

Tomorrow is my first real actual final. So I figure this will come in handy. Although technically I have studied. But that's ok. If all else fails...

This is how I'm sure we're all feeling about finals '08:

Countdown to Freedom: Maria’s Checklist

12/9: Theories and Processes of Communication final paper presentation

12/11: Theories and Processes of Communication final paper due

12/12: Office party (woo)

12/13: Secret Santa with 426

12/15: Cultural Anthropology final paper due

12/16: Conflict Res and Negotiation presentation

12/16: Conflict Res and Negotiation final exam

12/18: Cultural Anthropology final exam

12/19: Theories and Processes of Communication final exam

12/20: FLY HOME

Erin's the BEST Secret Santa Evarrr

The second annual Secret Santa Extravaganza occurred last night at 7:30. I originally thought Christina had me... but ALAS! It was Erin all along! Schneaky schneaky.

She made me the funniest card called Being Maria for Dummies with hilarious steps including:

• Have an unhealthy obsession with Ultimate Fighting Championship, martial arts, and sweaty guys rolling around together on the floor
• Listen to all kids of music ranging from Whitney to Kings of Leon to that weird techno house stuff
• Wear all black, all the time. Acquire the nickname 'Princess of Darkness."
  
  

I cracked up.

She also gave me the following awesome gifts:



The Aries glass reads:

Aries, ruled by Mars, is dominated by masculine traits. While you're often described as a multi-tasker, you are unable to complete tasks like applying a postage stamp or brushing your teeth. It's ok to slow down, finish something, and you'll probably smell better afterwards. You will likely succeed in politics. Never reproduce.

The cookbook is awesome. In attempts to avoid homework, I made my first meal from the book "Great Food, Great Beer." Here is my (blurry) pepper steak withi balsamic onions.

Countdown to Freedom: Maria's Checklist

12/9: Theories and Processes of Communication final paper presentation

12/11: Theories and Processes of Communication final paper due
12/12: Office party (WOO)
12/13: Secret Santa with 426
12/15: Cultural Anthropology final paper due
12/16: Conflict Res and Negotiation final exam
12/18: Cultural Anthropology final exam
12/19: Theories and Processes of Communication final exam
12/20: FLY HOME

The Ultimate Fighter Finale was fantastic.

It was a good night for Antonio Nogueira. Two of his fighters fought their way to six-figure contracts with the UFC. Based on Maria And Brothers Family Predictions, I rule the wins as upsets.

Ryan Bader won light-heavyweights and Efrain Escudero won lightweights. I really thought Vinny Magalhaes would smash Bader, maybe because Bader is a wrestler and Magalhaes is jiu jitsu. Bader was careful to stay on his feet and eventually defeated Magalhaes by KO.

One theme of the finale seemed to be that wrestlers are underappreciated. One announcer mentioned wrestlers have extraordinary discipline that carries over from their wrestling career. This is something I can attest to having a brother on the varsity wrestling team. The things those kids go through for their meets are intense.

The Escudero/Nover fight was amazing. The two are both from Team Nogueira and were training partners during the season, which made the dynamic interesting since they knew so much about each other. Escudero won by unanimous decision after a greulling three rounds. That's a fight I want to watch again.

For all of you who missed it... videos should be up on mmalinker soon. They're also on MMA Root.

Joe and I finally concluded that the mystery spot below Frank Mir's lip is, in fact, a scar. Not a piercing or flavor saver. I can sleep now.

The MBTA Needs To Reassess Their Communication Strategy. Or Get One.

If the MBTA had a Twitter account, they probably wouldn't follow me. I ride the Green Line to Copley and home at least six times a week each way. Guaranteed I tweet at least one angry message per week. Here's a sampling:

Today Marissa gets to experience my hell that is the MBTA. Our fingers are numb and there is accident near by. 8:51 AM Dec 5th from txt

Why am I 15 minutes late with 15 minutes to walk? Because the MBTA sucks! Oh B line. Why do you mock me?! 4:36 PM Dec 3rd from txt

Welcome back from break. Every T driver hates Maria again. Mmm. 8:42 AM Dec 1st from txt

Today was my worst experience with the T, by far.

Two Ts and one bus passed without letting passengers board. Finally, a T arrived and made steady progress heading express to Kenmore. Looked like I'd be on time for work after all.

Between Kenmore and Hynes Convention Center, the T came to an abrupt halt throwing me into a strange man's armpit. Halfway through rolling our eyes and raising our arms in confusion, the front half of the T heard anxious screams asking if anyone was a doctor.

We all took out our headphones to hear what was going on. It was very confusing. The T was packed so we couldn't see what happened. All we could see was a crowd with their backs to us. Some woman kept screaming for a medic while another broke through the crowd and ran to alert the driver. The driver pushed her way to the injured person in the back. We were stuck for at least 10 minutes. People were screaming, "we need to get to the next stop right now." At Hynes, the injured person and some others scrambled away as the rest of us stood on our toes trying to see if the person was ok.

I still don't know what happened. I looked for information when I got home but found only one message board with passenger responses to my tweet.

This is ridiculous. The MBTA is the 5th largest mass transit system in the nation. The entire system transports about 1.1 million people per day. Considering many people rely on the MBTA as their sole means of transportation, there NEEDS to be a better system in place to provide constant information and updates.

So here's the deal. I'm going to make this easy for you, MBTA. Pay close attention.

Maria's Communication Tips to Ensure Happier MBTA Riders

1. Get a Twitter account. This is easy and effective. Someone already created a hashtag (allowing users to aggregate information on a certain topic) that goes as far back as 5 months ago. The current voice of the MBTA is angry. It is pissed off passengers cursing the T. It is people sharing stories about how the MBTA keeps messing up. Let's get an actual MBTA representative on Twitter to give some reliable information to riders, who can have updates sent their phones while they're waiting in the freezing cold wondering why no trains are coming.
2. Get a blog. Seriously. Either add an update page to the MBTA site or create a blog that will link to the site and provide constant, honest information. The current News and Events section is pathetic. It is not representative of the struggles facing the people out there riding the T every day. Some sites that I DID find include MBTASUX.com (a compilation of organized Twitter complaints), Train Stopping (written by a frustrated commuter rail passenger) and Switchback (provides commentary and criticism of the MBTA.) Again, the MBTA needs a voice. A realistic voice. People want to hear the news, even if it always bad. Right now, we never hear any realistic news from the source.
   
3. Monitor the internet. Does the MBTA even know about the blogs I mentioned? They were solely created to criticize and complain about the MBTA. This is not to mention bloggers who post or tweet about their experiences more sparingly. The MBTA should monitor Twitter and blogs to get a better idea of who their passengers are and what they want. Many people who blog and tweet about the MBTA have helpful suggestions that would make commutes easier. Many have questions that the MBTA should directly reply to.

Companies (like Comcast) have created blogs and Twitter accounts to respond to unhappy customers. Many companies have been extremely successful in doing so. The MBTA needs to get with the program. People are fed up. It's time for a change. At least get a Twitter, for blog's sake!

Until that happens, I will keep angrily tweeting in hopes of appearing on MBTASUX.com.