meet me at the mirror.

Texts that...

2009-08-12T21:47:00.003-04:00

... give advice and encouragement -

MEESH 7/8: Yay! Get rid of that pollution girl.

JESS V 8/8: Girl you should try to casually bump into his big muscles and tell him that they got in your way :)

... are life -

JESS R 7/7: I hope in return you ordered a No-Chance-In-Hell martini.

ALI 7/17: So I changed [redacted]'s name in my phone to "heinous bitch" and every time I see it it makes me giggle like a little school girl.

ANONYMOUS 7/26: This... for once... this late... is not a creepy sext message.

JOE 7/27: On the way, Rampage.

ALI 8/2: Rachel is drinking beer through a Twizzler.

ALEX 8/9: Dan Marino, your boyfriend from the Tap, asked for you.

... predict the future -

NOHN 8/7: New future slash blog: Noelle and Maria v. Food

ERIN 8/10: We're moving to the village. At transgender bingo right now.

ANONYMOUS 8/11: It's destiny, Maria. Maybe not anytime soon. But we're going to get married.

My, how we've grown.

2009-08-10T22:11:00.006-04:00

It's funny how fast things change.

Not three months have passed since Erin and I began planning our book on how to survive college with enticing chapters such as, "What to tell your parents when you're still drunk at noon" and "How to survive an Irish crack den." [Don't worry, dad. These chapter titles are hyperbolized.]

One of the best nights of senior year was Erin's birthday. Our friends came to our apartment where we danced to 90s music, played games and managed to break half our dishes and glasses. Erin, exhausted from the festivities and excitement, fell asleep early. We decided to take advantage of the situation by expressing our love for her. In permanent marker. All over her body. The pictures mysteriously disappeared but it looked something like this, except she was wearing a shirt and we stuffed random playing cards in her clothes:

It seemed like a good idea at the time. We didn't really take into consideration her morning commute to Long Island. Fate mocked her by loading the ferry with inquisitive nuns. Just more proof that our senior year was probably scripted.

Cut to this weekend. The girls of Ann Arbor decided to have a goodbye party involving several popular college drinking games fueled by a keg on the porch. The obligatory "food run" at 2 am lead two of us to Panchero's, where we were told to order two burritos for a straggler. When we returned, said person was asleep on a futon in the basement. Naturally, we decided to pelt the burritos at his face. Luckily, the beans and rice sprinkling out of the the collapsing burrito and onto his face did not disturb his sleep.

That was enough for me. I climbed over a web of high school boys giggling at Dumb and Dumber to claim my couch for the night. My partners in crime decided to dole out some more punishment. They grabbed a dry erase marker and returned to the basement with plans to defile Sleeping Beauty.

Tagger One: Dude, don't draw on his face. He has work tomorrow.

Tagger Two: Ok... Let's get his ear.

And so in that moment, Life After Graduation was defined.

Whereas before we would have dismissed the threats of humiliation and punishment as irrelevant, we now hesitate to hide even two small dots in our drunken friend's ear, fearing the repercussions ushered in with the dawn. Whereas before we would celebrate milestones by staying awake until hours past sunrise, we now consider midnight a feat.

The next morning I woke up under a pile of cushions. I couldn't find a blanket so I burrowed in the crevice of the couch. After determining that there was, in fact, a human being under all those cushions, one of the guys proclaimed, "Well, kids. I can honestly say I'm glad I'm not in college anymore."

I don't know if I agree with him but I do know that that was the most comfortable couch I have ever slept in.

Farewell, Packard house.

Farewell, reckless [permanent marker] abandon.

We talk in code

2009-08-05T00:32:00.003-04:00

Conversation greetings with Mark often last several minutes and involve intricate puzzles and tricky decoding.

Infiltrating your earbuds starting...

2009-08-02T23:09:00.005-04:00

I've selfishly guarded my brilliant idea for long enough. I'm never going to make it alone anyway.

Fearing that this will only prove the terrifying extent of my nosiness I would like to share with you an invention I hope to one day enjoy.

Presenting: Maria's Super Sound Spy. Device. Thing.

I realized I needed to develop this further when I was at the gym the other day. I was working the elliptical and jamming out to a screamy playlist I made to pump Joe up before wrestling meets when something in my peripheral scope stole my attention.

It was the guy on the elliptical next to me; he was shimmying rather violently with a scowl on his face. And by shimmying I mean the dance move I was forced to perform to Love Shack in 5th grade. And by scowl I mean the look I gave to no one in particular when the neighbor's brand new dog woke me with it's depressed howl this morning.

Back to the point. How on earth do you shimmy with a scowl? I mean, who isn't happy when they're shimmying? If anything, he should have fallen off his machine when his uncontrollable jazz hands popped up and threw off his balance. What could this man possibly have been playing on his iPod to provoke such dance moves/involuntary twitches?

Perhaps some kind of up-beat gangster rap? Some kind of disco/death-metal mash-up? I'm not really sure. In general I think it's wise to avoid confronting scowling shimmyers, so I never asked.

This is why I need someone to develop Maria's Super Sound Spy. Device. Thing. When pointed at an iPod, the device will pick up whatever the person is listening to. It's not always on because that would be annoying. It's point-and-click activated. Also, it should come with a blocker so that I can occasionally listen to embarrassing music like Burnin Up by the Jonas Brothers without the tattooed hottie at the gym judging me.

But that option will only be available to me. Obviously.

A brief review of Funny People...

2009-07-31T23:38:00.002-04:00

... by my little cousin, Nick.

The lowest lows, the highest highs.

2009-07-27T11:01:00.007-04:00

In return for his friendship, I am providing Joe with a necessary education on life. Can you believe he's never heard of Missed Connections?!

Last night, he and I went to see Incubus. It was my second time seeing them. The first was about 5 years ago in Zurich.

The concert, my first in Michigan, was at the DTE Energy Music Theatre. We had VIP tickets, which allowed us to park in a special lot. Little did I know, people in Michigan tailgate concerts. I'm talking lawn chairs, frisbees, grills and coolers. There was a football game in the parking lot. I see the appeal of tailgating, but clearly live under a rock. In Boston, we didn't drive anywhere. We didn't tailgate concerts. My single tailgating experience occurred before a hockey game in New Hampshire where we grilled in a parking structure and drank from a keg Sean brought in the back of a van. I'm new to this.

Joe and I people watched (or, more accurately, made fun of everyone in the parking lot) while listening to Incubus before the concert. The venue looked like an amusement park. The seating sloped down to a large stage with a banner announcing the 89X 18th Birthday Bash. (My dad lovingly pointed out that I am older than the radio station. Thanks, dad.)

Here is where our education began.

We learned who The Duke Spirit are. The opening band hailed from London. The singer, a spazztic little blonde girl, danced around frequently taking positions that resembled yoga poses. The band was entertaining. They embellished the typical British grungey-new-rock genre with unique yodels and hoots from the singer. On first listen, the music sounded dark and grimy, which I like. I'll explore them more later.

Joe learned the beauty of Craigslist Missed Connections. A group of girls sat in front of us and Joe claims to have been exchanging unusually meaningful eye contact with one of the girls. I told him he should write a missed connection and see if she responds. He was intrigued by the idea and expressed the desire to draft several humorous MCs to see if people actually respond.

I've always wanted someone to write one about me, but apparently when I stare intensely at strangers it just creeps them out instead of inspiring them to find me again. Just in case, I wore purple pants yesterday to facilitate an accurate description when my future friend/date decides to search for me.

I learned that I love my purple pants. I've had them since Christmas. The only exposure they've had was when worn by Joe for 70s day at school. Feeling bold on my big night out, I decided to bring them to Incubus. I broke them in by dancing and thrashing around during the show. It was fantastic. They will be worn again.

The Purple Pants on 70s day at high school:

The Purple Pants at Maria's Big Night Out:

Incubus was pretty great. They played a lot of old songs, which made me happy. They also played a string of four slow/acoustic songs, which was nice but too slow when played consecutively. Joe and I were disappointed that they played Dig acoustic. We remedied our disappointment by blaring it in the car on the way out of the parking lot. As expected, they did not play the two songs I wanted them to play. It's ok though, because by the end of the show Brandon Boyd was not wearing a shirt.

It's amazing how versatile a band Incubus is. There were all kinds of people there: little kids, old people, goths, preps, stoners (who provided a potent aroma for the entire audience) and even, shock horror, guidos.

And now, the moment you've all (slash maybe just I) have been waiting for:

I MADE A FRIEND!!! WHO IS YOUNGER THAN 65!!!

Before Incubus started, the girl sitting next to me asked if Joe and I were twins. We hit it off. She's my age and wants to be concert buddies! Fantastic! We danced together, enjoyed the music together, laughed together and exchanged numbers.

All-in-all a fantastic night. Operation: Find Maria Friends is in full effect. And just in time, because Joe won't be around for UFC 101 on August 8th and I do not want to go to the bar alone.

Over and out.

Requests

2009-07-21T23:29:00.004-04:00

Michael cracks me up. He can really make friends wherever he goes.

Case in point: I received an e-mail from my old man yesterday describing his new, exciting relationship with a radio DJ from Michigan State University. Dad was driving when he heard a new song he liked. The DJ announced his request line phone number so my dad called to ask what the song was (Come On Come On by the Von Bondies) and request a song (something by Cage the Elephant.) The DJ played the song immediately. Dad called again to thank him and request AFI. The DJ played Girls Not Grey and told a story about his first time hearing the song. Dad called again and requested Billy Talent.

I mean, seriously. My dad's the man. He ended the e-mail saying, "Yes, I'm a youngster at heart." That phrase dates him more than it should. He doesn't make a very believable 50 year old. (You can pay me later, fat man.)

I think I need to take this as a lesson and step up my game. I've gone to the gym every day since I registered. The first time I spoke to anyone was yesterday when two women looked at me, perplexed, wondering how to adjust their stationary bike seats. "There's a lever thing," I said pointing beneath their seats.

Here's the thing. I'm a pretty outgoing person in the right environment. I still don't feel comfortable approaching strangers in a gym. I have shared my dilemma with older, wiser acquaintances. Here are their suggestions:

1) Ask the guy how to use a machine.

2) Wait until you haven't seen him for a day or two and then approach him and say, "Hey! You haven't been at the gym, what's going on?"

3) Stare at him until you catch his eye, then smile a lot.

So clearly, I haven't hit the nail on the head yet. All seem pretty creepy to me. I don't want a pick-up line. I don't want to say anything that could provoke a restraining order. I just want a friend.

Can someone draft up some Wanted signs that I can tape up in the gym?

P.S. If you ever decide to try Exercise TV On Demand, BE CAREFUL. Some of those programs are a maximum pain in the gluteus. Burning surges still shoot through my thighs and butt cheeks after the video segment I tried yesterday. Thank God for saunas.

Gyminy Cricket! Maria gets a membership.

2009-07-10T20:32:00.005-04:00

It's true. My funemployment has lead me to explore new horizons, most recently the YMCA. Prior to scouting the facilities, I envisioned being greeted by buff men dressed as police, cowboys and indians. Apparently that's just a rumor. (Or another delusion...)

Dad accompanied me for moral support. Deciding to join was easy. I can walk from my house (which hasn't happened yet) and it has all the equipment I need (an elliptical and two five pound weights.) I figured this would be a safe place to work out amongst old people and little kids forced to join by their parents. I figured I would be safe from all the hot, buff men I spotted at Joe's gym. Little did I know, the YMCA draws fit, young men and grannies with iPods alike.

The problem with this situation is that after about six minutes on the elliptical I look like I've been chasing mirages in the Sahara for three weeks. My face turns bright red and glistens under cascades of sweat. My legs show obvious warnings of collapse as they struggle to climb the pedals. It's not pretty. Certainly no condition to be attracting men in.

Today was an exception. One dark, handsome stranger with a tight shirt hugging his sculpted abs decided he either liked the desert-roaming look or needed to make sure I didn't pass out and get a concussion. I noticed him strutting around the room testing the machines behind me. I enjoyed the scenery as I walked to the water fountain trying to look like I'm really in better shape than the 65 year old powering away on the elliptical next to me.

On my way to the locker room, I noticed the weight room was empty and decided to try some of the exercises Joe taught me. I gathered my five-pounders and assumed the position on a bench in front of a mirror. After six reps I noticed Muscle Man walk by the room. He looked in through the window, stopped, turned around and looked out the parallel window facing the road, then turned 90 degrees walking away from the weight room. Not two minutes later was he walking back toward the weight room. I moved on to crunches and was on rep 60 (or dividend thereof) when all of a sudden Muscle Man was standing literally right over my face. I avoided eye contact. He pretended to look for a weight. He left the room empty handed. Hmmm. I decided to cool off on the treadmill and who should appear on a machine behind me but Muscle Man?

He's either seriously creepy or really worried about me. Either way, he's very good looking so I'll allow it. For now.

I repeated the story to my parents when I got home.

Dad: Did you talk to him?

Maria: What?! No. I'm not going to pick up a guy in a gym. Or anywhere. (Pours water.) Plus, what am I going to say? "Hey. You come here often?"

Mom: Ask him what his zodiac sign is!

Enter flashback to a club in Boston with Noelle. Mom would fit in well on the dance floor.

[P.S. If you have any good gym pick-up lines, do share. Maybe I'll test them out at the local YMCA.]

The Rundown

2009-07-05T19:08:00.006-04:00

It's amazing what you can accomplish in one week. Including, but not limited to:

Playing in four states (MA, RI, CT, NY)
Bringing joy to all grandparents (and one aunt)
Witnessing your brother win third and first place in a big tournament in a casino
Making new friends and connections
Sleeping in no less than four different locations
Mastering two new CDs during travel
Visiting many (but not all) friends from college and work
Verbally assaulting friends who have failed to keep in contact
Swimming in a pool for the first time in two years (and having diving and splashing wars with your brother for the first time in a looong time)
Observing the zoo that is Long Island and Jones Beach
Celebrating a holiday
Jamming to a live band
Devouring some Dunkin and Uburger
Staying out past midnight

... and more. Good times! Steve was a fantastic host. Heading for my last night in Boston then early to the airport for a long day of travel back to D-town.

I hope the airports have free WIFI like the commuter rail!

On Life After Graduation

2009-06-26T23:33:00.004-04:00

ROSIE (May 20) P-p-p-poker face just came on at a lobster sandwich stand in Cape Cod... I have mixed emotions.

ERIN (May 23) Home is rehab. I'm watching my friends play whiffle ball... Everyone has to play with beer in hand.

ALI (May 23) Oh good god. Splitting a bucket of PBR with my mom, aunt and uncle. What has the world come to?

MARK (May 24) I won at the casino again! Suga daddy status remains.

MARK (May 27) Oh God. We totally forgot to use protection. Now I have some weird WCTD.*

*WCTD = Web cam transmitted disease.

ERIN (May 30) You better not be kidnapped.

CHRIS (June 12) I'm glad Michigan hasn't corrupted your mind and soul.

ALI (June 12) Meesh just awed at a 5 lb rat.

ALI (June 17) A 60 year old just took my shoe.

STEVE (June 23) Do you think if I sang 'the dogs don't shine in Philly' and you and Joe beat boxed we'd make it [on America's Got Talent]? I'm practicing now.

JON (June 25) Answer your phone Michael Jackson is dead!

First person to find me a friend WINS!

2009-06-24T00:27:00.009-04:00

I have printed a couple hundred copies of the card above. It's time to take drastic measures. [Feel free to print and distribute.]

Last Saturday, we had another high school graduation party to attend. With each graduation party, the level of embarrassment increases several notches. Here are some scenes from that night.

SCENE ONE:

(Maria, mom and dad enter the house and fill their plates with food. Mom and dad choose a table outside while Maria retrieves a drink. She plucks a Coke from a big blue cooler and scans the area for her parents. She spots her father taking a seat and approaches the table to discover that the only free chair is at the end of the table across from an elderly couple.)

Maria: (whispers to herself) Sweet.

(Maria occupies the vacant seat facing an elderly man perpendicular to his wife.)

Elderly woman: Oh hello! My name is Judy. Yes, you look like a Maria. I have awesome stories and was one of the first people to ever purchase contact lenses for which I had to take out a loan.

(Maria and Judy share stories and giggle with each other until Judy leaves for another party... But not without swapping e-mail addresses with her new best friend.)

SCENE TWO:

(Maria walks across the yard clutching her cold beer thinking to herself, "Thank GOD for liquor.")

Drunk woman: I'm sorry. I have to ask. (Quiets to a whisper and squeezes one eye shut) How ooold are you?

Maria: (exasperated) TWENTY-TWO! I should just start wearing my license around my neck.

(Maria continues on her path walking past her brother and his hoodlum wrestling friends.)

Tyler: SHAVE YOUR BEARD!

SCENE THREE:

(Maria, mom and dad are standing in a circle with the hostess of the party talking about life.)

Mrs. S: So how's being home?

Maria: Oh it's nice. Lots of down time.

Mom: Yea, it's just hard for her because she has no friends here.

Dad: She went from being in college with all her friends to being here with us. She needs some friends here.

(Maria purses her lips and raises her eyebrows. This story has been repeated too many times. She takes a sip from her beer and doesn't notice the wheels spinning inside Mrs. S' head.)

Mrs. S: (grabs Maria's hand and drags her to a circle of six older people.) THIS is Maria. She is a wonderful girl who just graduated college and has no friends here. Maria, (she points to one woman) this is my cousin. She has a very nice son who just graduated Michigan State. Talk to each other.

(Maria feels awkward conversing with Mrs. S' cousin. Everyone in the circle enjoys the spectacle of a friendless stranger being set up with an absent relative. They laugh often and lean in to hear all about Maria.)

Cousin 1: Well, why don't you give me your number and I'll give it to Tommy for when he comes back!

(Maria hands the woman a small piece of torn paper with her name and number on it and scampers away imagining Tommy's laughter when his mom hands him her number. Later that night, the cousins stand in unison and gather their belongings.)

Strange man: Did my wife get your number?

Like father, like daughter.

2009-06-22T17:54:00.015-04:00

When I was little, my dad used to call my feet pontoons. Apparently they were abnormally large for my size. A couple decades later, his ability to make fun of me using creative nagging techniques has only sharpened. "Moose and I," he chuckles as I struggle to haul my bike up the garage stairs after a long ride. That's not even a fraction of it.

(Dad harassing me from a very young age)

There are too many great memories, milestones and quirks of my family to list. Nevertheless, I will copy Tara and share a few goodies about my dad in honor of Father's Day.

......

1. If there is ever any mention of a guy in my life (which, thanks to my overprotective siblings and an unfortunate abundance of psychos out there, rarely happens) my dad has but one important question: Can he skate? Regardless of the answer, Test #1 for any prospective suitor will be doled out in an ice rink with hockey sticks. And probably no pads.

(Dad after a hockey game in winter '08 with one of his leagues.)

2. One of our favorite things to do, especially recently, is bike ride. We explore the town, philosophize, people-watch and guess how much houses for sale cost. We also have water fights that usually don't end well for me.

3. Our favorite game to play is Guess The Song. We compete to see who can name the band and title faster. The date of production factors into who wins but we keep each other on our toes. One Christmas, grandma gave me some of dad's old records and a record player. That's when I discovered Creedence. I haven't been the same since.

Dad and I have bonded through music since I was two and screaming "mookie!" in my car seat. Since we both appreciate different eras and types of music, I predict this game will last forever.

4. We are shopping buddies. Dad understands my disdain for shopping in almost any form. I live by his motto that has been repeated to me ad nauseam: Do you love it? Only buy it if you love it. Dad and I are particularly fond of the grocery store. We enjoy discussing any deals or bargains we come by because, after all, no one should pay full price for anything.

5. We are social. My dad (like my mom) loves talking to people. Anyone. Everyone. He wants to know what people are doing, how their day is going, what makes them happy, how he can relate to them. He knows half the neighborhood and a good portion of the city (impressive considering he's lived here only two years.)

Before college I was a pretty shy kid. I hated it when dad made me talk to people. "Speak up!" He'd demand. My first day of orientation at Boston University was horrifying. I knew no one. Didn't know Boston. Had only been to the school once before.

Dad and grandpa brought me to Rich Hall for orientation. I tried to stall their departure but eventually dad pointed to three kids, told me to go introduce myself and said goodbye. After cursing him in my head and watching him walk away, I slowly walked up to the group of kids. They didn't notice me coming, which made it more awkward. "Are you guys here for orientation?" I asked the kid closest to me as I fiddled with my lanyard. "No," he informed me and turned away. I laughed a little and walked to the cement ledge overlooking Nickerson Field.

"Well, that went well!" dad chuckled. I don't know which was more embarrassing, that I got shut down by the first group of kids I interacted with at college or that there was a witness. Dad reassured me before leaving for real. I ended up making a lot of friends at orientation and having a great time.

Needless to say, I have overcome my shyness and developed dad's ability to have good conversations with different kinds of people (though I haven't developed his eagerness to interact with every stranger he sees yet.)

(Dad protecting me from the rain before Commencement)

Most importantly (as it pertains to this blog, at least) I developed my passion for writing because of my dad.

Dad- Because you're cool, I'm not a loser. (For the most part.)

Thanks dude.

Another day, another pinched nerve

2009-06-16T23:56:00.008-04:00

Big Mike has been encouraging me to explore my funemployment through bike riding. As a result, I've also been exploring our extensive collection of pain medication (BenGay, BioFreeze...)

Today we journeyed through Birmingham. I was immediately thankful I popped a Zycam before our ride when we came across a field of huge chunks of pollen resembling the fluffy remains of the Canadian Geese that messed with Sully.

I prefer getting exercise outdoors (stop laughing) whether it be running, whiffle ball or engaging in drive-by water soaking wars with my dad. It's more interesting when the scenery changes.

We had quite a selection of varied terrain on our journey. The trail made of thousands of little pebbles that kept shifting under the weight of the tires was probably the worst. Oh no. Wait. The worst were the GIGANTIC HILLS we had to maneuver amongst oversized moving vehicles that (wanted to but) were trying not to hit us.

I must have pinched a nerve in my left butt cheek trying to get up that hill. At some point, my entire left leg went numb. I thought I was out for the count. But alas, I am here sitting on my tingling butt blogging about the hazards of the road.

Maybe I should work out more.

When they think you're sneaking spiked punch...

2009-06-15T00:23:00.007-04:00

Ok tell me the truth. How old do you think I look in this picture?

That was taken Saturday night at a graduation party for a family friend. Joe and I were eating cake and trying to decide if he would end up like the group of old men in a circle in the back yard smoking cigars while checking out the (decades younger) waitress. We decided, most likely.

A woman that looked exactly like Bette Midler (but with redder hair) interrupted our laughter to introduce herself. After asking Joe about his wrestling career, Bette turned to me with a smile reminiscent to that of Sadie Ratliff from Big Business and asked:

"And what grade are you in?!"

...

EXCUSE ME??? I just graduated college, thank you very much. This is the face of a wise and (fairly) weathered Bachelor of Science recipient.

I mean, seriously. I could handle Erin's ten year old cousin innocently guessing that I was 15. He's young. But Bette? Straight out of The Real Housewives of Oakland County? And she's not even close to being the first person to think I was in middle or high school.

While we're talking about mistaken identities...

Last Christmas, Steve and I struggled through a travel nightmare trying to get from Boston to Detroit. We had to stay overnight in Cinncinnati because of flight complications. We approached a counter at the Marriott at four in the morning. The woman bowed her head to look at our IDs. Paused. Looked up with a dumb smile and asked:

"Would you like one bed or two, Mr. and Miss F?"

...

EXCUSE ME??? We are siblings, woman! Don't toy with my emotions, it's four in the morning.

Ugh.

This is a time of transition. And in said time of transition, one must exhibit restrained patience in the face of confusion.

...Or just start wearing descriptive sandwich boards to avoid stupid questions.

Christina on Greece

2009-06-10T00:32:00.005-04:00

Maria: How was Greece?!

Christina: Girl it was fantastic. It was amazing.

Maria: Man. I'm jealous.

Christina: It's so... different there! I mean. Men are actually... respectful! What happened to guys here?

Maria: Haha I have no idea.

Christina: ... Girl I don't think men wax their eyebrows there.

Maria: What? Do guys do that here?

Christina: I meannnn..... Their eyebrows. There were some hairy, hairy men there.

Maria: Well. Greeks ARE notoriously hairy.

Thanks for calling, Jess and Christina!

The rest of you... get dialling.

Anyone need their lawn mowed?

2009-06-04T22:45:00.006-04:00

Aaah family dinners. A time to feast on sarcasm, insult, and Vicki's delicious home cooking.

It was at said daily gathering that we could be found devouring the spoils of a newly purchased grill when all of a sudden the door bell rang. Weary of robbers and environmentalists, mom and I sent dad to deal with the interruption. He opened the door and adjusted his gaze to the pudgy ten year old standing on our porch. Mom and I tried to decipher the child's muffled request over the crunch of our perfectly salted peas. Dad closed the door and returned to the table with a smirk on his face.

Dad: The kid wanted to mow our lawn. He and his sister were pulling a wagon with a weed whacker and some wires and tools.

Dad chuckled as he scooped up some peas with his fork.

Dad: Hey! (he pointed his fork at me) You should go ask if they have any jobs!

This is what I'm dealing with, people. Send sympathy cards.

Maria Goes to Long Island

2009-06-03T20:45:00.012-04:00

Mrs. D flew me down last Thursday as a surprise to Erin and in turn I was surprised by the lack of guido and orange skin as Erin introduced me to Long Island.

Things I loved about Long Island:

1) Erin and her seriously fantastic family (yes, even the dog, who trapped me in a room Day One but was eating hot dogs from my plate by Sunday.)

2) Erin's crazy/hilarious/super fun friends and their fire pits and weird cars with animal noises.

3) The wheel at Billy's Bar. So exciting!

4) The water. And rocks. And shells. If I lived on Long Island I'd be down by the water every day. There were awesome lifeguard lookout towers that I refused to jump off even though they were three feet from the ground. Noelle threw rocks at me in a failed attempt to persuade me to jump. I would need to build up some courage.

5) Crazy people. Like this guy with a metal detector.

After exploring Long Island on Friday, Erin's family brought me into the city Saturday. Some switch flipped the second we started driving into the city. Attacked by the impulse to explore for hours, I annoyed my family and friends with texts declaring my wishes to move to the city right then and there.

We went into the Hershey and M&M stores where Erin and I played with giant chocolate bars and her sisters joined us in the mood detector to determine our M&M color. (Mine was Almond Mix or something. Apparently I like excitement and adventure. So true, M&M mood detector!) The machine was acting up all day; it offended Jill by telling her she is not a person who "does many things well," declared Sarah dark chocolate mix and Erin dark pink. Bizarre.

We headed toward Carmine's next. A legend in my mind, I was excited to experience what Noelle and Erin spent hours salivating over. Mr. D went in to get us a table and to everyone's surprise there was no line. He brought us in through the special door and we took our seat on the second floor. I will be dreaming about those zucchini sticks/fries/straws/pieces-of-heaven for YEARS.

After Carmine's, we walked around Times Square where we reunited with Mark.

The weather was perfect on Saturday. We walked to Central Park where we climbed a rock formation and people-watched. A ten-year-old boy hit on Erin with the sweetest pick-up line ever: Wanna climb with me? She turned him down. It was as good a time as any for him to learn about disappointment. He slid down the formation and walked off with his mom.

We experienced many strange and wonderful things walking through Central Park. A bride, a man (with a small dog) that looked like a pedophile, a man tanning in very tiny shorts, a large group of people roller skating in various outfits including (but not limited to) furry pink pants and cut-off shirts with fringe, a woman on a unicyle dancing with a man on roller skates, two Aztek-ish warring violinists in thongs, a woman making a stuffed chicken dance on her lap, and much much more.

I need to move to NYC.

Dessert was necessary after our long day. We indulged in cheesecake and chocolate cakes before seeing the hilarious off-broadway play, Altar Boyz. Is it strange that I want to download the soundtrack? We had a perfect view; our seats were four rows from the front. Erin and I were relieved to hear this showing did not involve audience participation.

We drove through the brightly lit city and I resisted the urge to jump out of the car and peek in all the restaurants and bars and apartments. I drilled Erin and her parents about life in the city, imagining myself living there.

This whole being out of college thing is kind of exciting when you realize that you can literally go anywhere. As long as there's money. And benefits. And housing. I'll save my list of living requirements for another time.

Sunday was barbeque day. Erin and Jill had a joint party for graduation and Sweet [s]Ixteen respectively. Mrs. D and the girls prepared me for the invited company as Mr. D and Sarah prepared the outdoor games and fire and the rest of us helped assemble the mounds and mounds of food Mrs. D bought.

The food was delicious (and plentiful) and the company was great. I even found a new boyfriend. James is 10. He thinks I'm 15. He's a little fresh but he's a great kickball player and super clever (he dubbed Noelle "No-LOL" without hesitation.) Sarah was the Smore master. Noelle, Erin and I ended the party around Mr. D's expertly crafted fire and then laughed in the kitchen for hours with Erin's friends.

Monday afternoon the family drove me to the airport. I'm thankful to have had the opportunity to get to know them. The trip gave me hope that even though college is over, friendships really will last forever. There's no way Erin's getting rid of me now! MUAHAHAHA.

Flying out of the city I admired the faint flicker of advertisements from Times Square imagining myself wandering amidst the skyscrapers. After a moment, clouds poured over my window leaving only my imagination to construct variations of my future.

Bitchin Beard: Championship Edition

2009-05-27T00:18:00.008-04:00

I've almost recovered from the Bruins' loss to the Hurricanes. It helps that the Hurricanes just got swept out of the Playoffs. About time too. I don't think I could handle one more bad weather metaphor in a blog post.

There is one thing that the Bruins are still kicking ass in. And that's the BEARD-A-THON!!! WOO!!! The spirit of the fans can not be broken. The Beard-a-thon is a way for each of the eight playoff teams to raise money for a cause of their choice.

The Boston Bruins Foundation is a 501(c)(3) non-profit foundation whose mission is to assist charitable organizations that demonstrate a strong commitment to enhancing the quality of life for children throughout New England. ... The Foundation, which provides grants to organizations that meet the standards of its mission, concentrates on athletics, academics, health, and community outreach programs that assist in helping enrich the lives of children throughout New England.

At $93,564, Bruins fans have raised more money than each of the eight other fan bases.

Let's go $100,000!!! Go donate to someone.

The lead profit generator is Bob Sweeny, who has raised $21,000 so far.

The final four teams have raised as follows:

Red Wings: $12,874

Blackhawks: $20,002

Hurricanes: $53,680

Penguins: $82,784

Red Wings fans need to step up. A championship means nothing without some sweet playoff beards.

Maybe they should take a hint from this guy.

David Traver recently won the World Beard and Moustache Championship. I wish I knew this was happening! Traver spent 2 1/2 years growing this 20.5 inch beard. Now THAT's dedication.

I want to be on the judge's panel next year, Alaska.

Check your manhood at the door, lest you burn it with wing sauce.

2009-05-24T20:06:00.008-04:00

One great thing about being home is getting to hang out with Joe. My interests generally align with those of a 17 year old boy (minus little girls and the weight room, to name two.) I did not find a single person in Boston who followed or enjoyed watching mixed martial arts. Most people thought I was weird for doing so. At home, it's a given that the fight will be watched one way or another.

Last night was UFC 98. I'm not a fan of Pay Per View, in general. After a little research, I decided Joe and I would go to Buffalo Wild Wings where I would drink copious amounts of beer, bet on fights with him and force him to be my designated driver. That plan was foiled when I discovered Joe's still on a restricted license and can't drive after 12. Ugh. High schoolers.

Three of Joe's friends joined us. The fights were set to start at 10 but we were all hungry and bored so decided to leave the house at 8. Joe drove the youngens and I to BWW. Joe's "car rules" restrict the music selection to hip hop and oldies so we blared disco the entire way there.

Sidenote: I will never understand why high school boys feel the need to A) stare everyone down B) make strangers feel uncomfortable by rolling down the windows, blasting Brick House and winking at mothers behind the wheel and C) use only the wrist of their right arm to drive.

Bringing testosterone filled high schoolers to Buffalo Wild Wings is like bringing bringing Noelle and Christina on the T dressed in costume on Halloween. They spend 20 minutes trash talking each other before making crippling life decisions.

Joe and I, despite the warning from our waitor, decided on the hot wings. Joe's friend Tyler decided on the Blazin chicken wrap. For those of you who have never been to a Buffalo Wild Wings... an order like this occurs so rarely that the chefs bet $10 on Tyler finishing his meal.

The food came fast and the chefs and waitstaff hid in various corners to watch the reaction from our table. Joe took a bite of Tyler's Blazin wrap and started tearing up. The waitor brought him a little cup of chocolate milk to ease the pain, at which point Tyler and Zach called Joe a little bitch and insults were exchanged.

By the time Tyler had consumed 3/4 of his wrap, the waitor had delivered 6 cartons of chocolate milk.

Waitor: (replenishing Tyler's milk carton supply) Dude. These are usually for little kids but take some more! I don't know how you're eating that, dude! You're crazy! I think you've had a gallon of milk, man!

Joe: (still complaining about the single bite he took 20 minutes earlier) I feel like one of those cartoon characters that has just eaten something hot and is steaming from the ears!

Face redder than a stop sign and eyes tearing like my mom at graduation, Tyler admitted defeat. Someone in the kitchen was out $10. He just couldn't do it. He downed the rest of the milk and went to the bathroom. Tyler returned and put his forehead to the table while everyone made fun of him.

After 15 minutes in this position, someone finally asked Tyler if he was ok.

Tyler: Dude. (He hushed to a whisper) I forgot to wash my hands before pissing.

The table erupted in laughter. Tyler's mouth wasn't the only thing in pain. Zach handed him some Handy Wipes in a futile attempt to dull the burn. Tyler disappeared into the bathroom returning 10 minutes later with a distressed look on his face. The waitor sensed his pain and asked how his mouth was.

Tyler: That's alright. But I forgot to wash my hands before I went to the bathroom.... So now it burns... (points to his crotch.)

Waitor: Ooooooohhhhhh. Sorry man, I can't help you there.

Eventually, the tears dried up, the burning stopped and Tyler begged the waitor to take away the rest of his wrap. Lyoto Machida (the guy I called to win) beat Rashad Evans (the guy Joe called to win), knocking him out for the first time in his MMA career. I barked for a few minutes while Joe stormed out the front door. Everyone returned home fairly unharmed.

A word to the wise: DO NOT order the Blazin anything! Check your pride at the door before your hurt yourself. And by God if you must get something Blazin... PLEASE wash your hands before touching anything but the wings.

Technology is dangerous in the hands of our elders.

2009-05-22T18:13:00.003-04:00

Alright so it hasn't been nearly as bad as I thought it would be.

When my family arrived in Boston for commencement weekend just last weekend, my dad asked me how I envisioned my first few weeks at home.

"I'll probably cry hysterically all the way home. Sleep for two days straight. Slip into a state of deep depression for about two weeks and then finally pull myself together and move on."

Surprisingly, my prediction has not come to fruition. I cried a little on the way drive home. I slept most of the way, slashing about 10 hours of the required catch-up-sleep-time from my schedule. I haven't hit the deep depression, which is the biggest shock. I thought that was a sure bet. I'm sure it's on its way.

Once I finish season one of True Blood (which will happen tonight) and finish unpacking my life (which will not happen soon) and my family has moved on with their normal lives (which will be after the long weekend)... then I'll crawl into a dark hole for a little while.

Until then, my sole job is to shield my father from internet predators.

I am seriously worried.

In the car on the drive home, my dad confessed his recent addiction to online Hearts. Michael has discovered chat rooms, people. That's right. After describing the concept of an avatar (even though, to his shock, I informed him I know what an avatar is) he shared a recent experiement he's been conducting.

My father has a genderless AOL screen name. He realized that you can customize your avatar with various features. Always one to fuck with people, dad decided to make his avatar a woman. He has taken great pleasure in fooling Hearts chatroom frequenters across the nation.

People respond differently, he told me. Men generally don't take kindly to being beaten by a room full of women. My father, one of three "women" in a chatroom with one man, chuckled softly to himself as the man typed his frustration at being beaten by women.

As if that's not bad enough. People are hitting on my father in these chat rooms. Some man asked him his age.

Sidenote: I took this opportunity to ask if anyone has A/S/L'd* him. I was comforted by his confusion. Apparently that's a generational thing that died in the 90s. I hope.

After being asked his age by a strange man, my father cleverly replied, "why do you want to know?" at which point the man left the chatroom. My father flailed his arms feeling victorious against the chatroom pervert.

It's strange that I find myself wanting to monitor my father's internet use for fear he will be taken advantage of. Although at this rate, he has all the makings of the next successful Chris Hansen.

Parents these days.

*A/S/L = Age/Sex/Location

When words aren't enough...

2009-05-21T02:42:00.001-04:00

... share a photo album!

(if the slideshow isn't working, go here)

Ways to save money: Text Edition

2009-05-04T22:16:00.004-04:00

Get wise friends instead of paying for therapy

3/1 JESS The kid is clueless. Drop the zero and get with a hero... Or just find someone better with no rhyme scheme involved

4/6 JESS You can take a picture of him and upload it to the blog with using less than five words... Epic tool. P.S. Try sleeping tonight. You are too nocturnal. I'm convinced you're part bat. Not in a gross way. Just in a nocturnal way.

4/15 TARA Ew to both of those. We are surrounded by tools.

Enlist overprotective relatives as bodyguards

3/23 JOE He better not be a bitch. If shit goes down and he can't protect you OOH I'll kill him.

Only be friends with entertaining people

3/6 JESS Booty call and mom. Now that's just two things I always put together.

3/27 ROOMMATE Dear Maria, sorry I got so drunk and acted like some sort of foolish monkey.

4/1 ERIN When I get home from class can I trade you my wine glass for a ham?

4/15 CHRISTINA Pretty soon girl I'll be lathering you with oil at the Boston Commons/ BU beach

4/16 SARAH Yea I'm here already starting my night off right with dollar beers and old men.

4/19 ZACH How could you not know? He sweated carrot juice.

4/24 P.I.C. When I came into work my boss goes, your eyes are all bloodshot. I'm like, oh yea it's allergies.

5/3 ALI Tara's eating pepperoni.

Intern at an awesome office

3/27 JESS Are you coming in today?! There is an epic amount of new snacks.

Go to hockey games (not money saving, but worth the splurge)

3/28 DAD I just saw you on TV doing the pointing thing. (READ: calling the opposition's goalie a siv.)

3/30 ALI Just showered and still feel like I smell like beer and steak tips.

4/12 JOHN Sedan or SUV? We're in a charoal grey Honda minivan. I'll be the one flashing my nips @ you.

Random cheap entertainment

David at the Dentist? Or Joe at the surgeon?

3/20 JOE Haha oh well it makes me drool Fool. Tool. Pool. Cool. Mule. What are you doing? Being cruel? Hollaaa.

25 cent wing night.

4/4 STEVE We all know you're not going to the bar for a chicken wing.

The internet.

4/6 ALI I am not meeting your weird internet friends.

It's Coming: Graduation '09

2009-04-29T01:09:00.001-04:00

E-mail at the internship...

MARIA:

Good morning everyone,

I can't believe April is almost over!

Finals period and graduation are speeding toward me so Wednesday will be my last day in the office. I will be here today until 5 and Wednesday 9-5 if you have any work or wrap-up you would like me to do!

Otherwise, I will see you Wednesday.

Thanks,
Maria

JESS:

:(
wahhhhhhhhh
wahhhhhhhhh

It's going to be a long Wednesday.

It's Coming: Graduation '09

2009-04-23T15:08:00.003-04:00

This conversation actually occurred between my family and I via e-mail.

MARIA:

It's time...

... to choose Commencement Weekend events before tickets run out.

Please visit the link describing various activities. Discuss and let me know.
(My votes are for the Senior Champagne Reception and the Riverboat Cruise.)

Hit me back yo.

STEVE:

Yeah good calls, mom wont like most of those (the ones you didn't pick).

The only other potential I can see is the: Celebration '09

Note: I'm setting my priorities based on the fact that I will be 21 for this event.

P.S - Did you read all the notes for the Riverboat Cruise? You might not be able to get on.
"This event is not [metally] handicapped accessible."

DAD:

I vote the same as you.

MOM:

I agree!!! YO!!!

Woop Tumblr

2009-04-07T02:05:00.003-04:00

Here is my first Tumblr account, created for my New Media class. (I'll keep this too... and try to post more frequently... yea... it's been busy in these parts...)

One to Five

Can someone tell me how to convert MP4 files to MP3 files so I can start sharing some music?

Addition to the Resume: I am multi-talented! Hire me!

2009-03-23T00:24:00.006-04:00

Aaah the job search. Thank you, economy!

We've all read the statistics and seen the news reports. It's all I hear any more. Literally. Jess and I, while walked down Newbury for some coffee last Wednesday, were discussing our futures and the economy when literally two seconds after our first moment of silence two other women passed us talking about the economy's current suckage.

Granted, there are still jobs out there. I've read many posts and articles about this situation especially as it pertains to soon-to-be college grads and one piece of advice I keep hearing is, "don't use the bad news of the economy as an excuse to be passive in a job search."

I have found some very interesting calls for resumes. I saw on Jimmy Fallon that the job of fly keeper or some such thing exists... So I have hope.

Despite the destitute situation for those of us being kicked out of our cozy dorm lives, it is pretty exciting to picture myself in all the new cities and positions of jobs I've been applying to.

I will take this opportunity to expand my resume and suggest positions I would excel in, should a job in PR not arise.

Body Guard or Bouncer: I have taken several self defense classes including Shotokan Karate and Boxing. Additionally, I have two very aggressive brothers who challenge (and therefore improve) my skills. Wrestling is a passion of mine and I usually make people cry during games of Civil War. I pretend I'm La Femme Nikita frequently and am not one to shy away from a mosh pit during a good song. I have tricks by which to successfully subdue unruly delinquents.
Therapist: I have extensive experience in family relations and group therapy. I tend to be the go-to girl when problems arise. Dealing with passionate, Greek family members is tricky and complex but I have mastered the ways of a successful mediator.
Hostage Negotiator: For the same reasons as above. Additionally, my babysitting experiences often resembled terrorist negotiations. Threatening to take away gaming consoles and deprive children of pre-bedtime chocolate milk was necessary in some cases but I always won.
T-Shirt Vendor: It's always been my dream to tour the country/world listening to live music every day of my life.
Washboard player/percussionist-of-sorts: See above.

Let me know if you have any openings for any of the above. Or anything else! I'm open to suggestions and talented across many platforms and arenas.This is only the tip of the iceberg, people!

Text messages are funny

2009-03-19T16:14:00.003-04:00

Because my mom is crazy:

Feb 9 MOM: Stinky! Good luck to you and BU in the Beanpot! Northeastern SUCKS! Go BU! Woot! SMS after the game tell me when you guys win! Double woot!

Feb 23 MOM: Pean't butter jelly samich broomball queen with all bones in tact! Woot! Congrats on the first win!

Because sometimes I'm an easy target:

Feb 11 ERIN: There's seriously something wrong with you.

Feb 26 SEAN: [after telling him I was lost at the Bruins game] Get out of the men's room.

March 6 TARA: Oh dear, oh dear. What am I going to do with you?

March 6 JESS: I am going to have the America's Got Talent people sing you manhating Alanis Morisette songs.

March 15 SEAN: If you're late today, I will give you a bruise on the forehead.

Because my friends are funny:

Feb 9 CHRIS: 302. Tamer than Dakota Fanning's sex life.

Feb 16 ALI: Butternut whore squash.

March 12 JOE: Damnit Low-retta!

March 14 MEESH: I came back here and was everyone's clown.

March 15 CHRISTINA: Girl! I just left Don Peppes restaurant in downtown Queens, NY. There was a mafia table and I saw 3 of my future boyfriends who were all waitors there!

Because I'm the boss:

Feb 23 MARK: What are we wearing tonight, el capitan?

... so I carry back-up

March 6 STEVE: I'll come there and kick his ass if you want me to!

... which some of my friends should look into

March 12 MEESH: I look like I was abused last night. Oh wait I was. Sean beat me with a chair and made me bleed!

Words of wisdom for me and all you people out there:

March 18 CHRIS: Keep it clean.

Networking for College Seniors

2009-03-03T23:35:00.006-05:00

It has been a very productive week for week for Maria.

Saturday I went to a PRSSA conference, Innovation Through Leadership, and this evening I went to a COM networking event, which included a lesson on networking etiquette.

Free pens = 2
Sweet nametags = 2
Job offers (so far) = 0

HEY! It's only March.

Here were some of the takeaways from each event:

PR Advanced: Innovation Through Leadership

[From Mike Volpe, Vice President of Marketing at HubSpot]

Leveraging inbound marketing tools changes tactics from interruption based to attraction based
Create a large digital footprint so people can find you on a variety of platforms
Measurement of PR is changing; it is easier to track the progress and success of campaigns
The shift of focus from budget to creativity gives smaller clients a greater chance to be awarded accounts
MARKET YOURSELF

[From Gary Sheffer, Executive Director of Corporate Communication and Public Affairs at General Electric]

A good reputation is your license to do business
Public relations must reset tactics and channels of communication to succeed
News is now a river running past us instead of a train making stops; anyone can throw anything into the river
Crisis communication and management are increasingly vital

There are three ways to win in a post-crisis world

Social responsibility
Transparency and authenticity
Engaging communities personally and digitally

The role of communicators

Help define a company, not just describe it
Develop channels for messaging AND networks
Shift perceptions

Gary's Tips For Finding a Job

Start right now
Every experience is good
Do something. Show results.
Read the Economist. Then Gawker.
Careers are built, not made

It is essential for PR professionals to be news junkies; you have to know what's going on in the world if you want to tell people how to present themselves in the world
The most important thing you have is your integrity. Never compromise that. I mean never.

COM Networking at the Castle

[From Jodi Smith, founder of Mannersmith Consulting]

Etiquette is culturally and situationally specific; since corporate cultural differences exist everywhere, there are etiquette guildelines, not rules.
You have 5-7 seconds to make an impression on someone you're meeting for the first time
People like to be right; If you make a bad impression, it takes about 14 positive encounters to change their perception.
Networking, by definition, is strange and awkward. You are going to an event and engaging with a room full of strangers.
Save elevator speeches for the elevator
People like you better when they can talk to you.
Asking about business opportunities before engaging in small talk is like asking a stranger to marry you without asking them on a date.
Small talk leads to big talk.
It is better to be over dressed than under dressed.
Never go hungry
Networking: You are a lion in the Serengeti. The others are wildabeast at the watering hole. Find the watering hole and attack.

In Conclusion:

The economy sucks. Almost no one is hiring.

BUT.

Market your inner lion, find the watering hole and make the kill! Market yourself. Go to networking events. Leave nothing but a bare carcass.

If it's not Windex...

2009-03-02T22:34:00.004-05:00

Yai: You feeling better?
Maria: A little. I still sound like a man.
Yai: What you gonna do about it? Go to doctor?
Maria: No. I'm getting better.
Yai: Why don't you get Sara to rub your back with alcohol?
Maria: Who's Sara?
Yai: Your girlfriend!

For the record:

Yai = My grandma. She's Greek and sometimes forgets to speak English.
Sara = Tara (my roommate since freshman year)
According to Greeks (or at least Yai), rubbing alcohol all over yourself will cure anything.

Bitchin Beard: Another use for toothpicks

2009-02-26T00:39:00.005-05:00

THIS may be the most bitchin-est beard I've ever seen. Did the girl taking the video seriously count out 2,222 toothpicks? The end result looks like a Chia Pet.

QUACK. QUACK. QUACK. QUACK.

2009-02-24T18:07:00.006-05:00

There are two reasons why I have been and will continue to quack all week.

Our Broomball team, Gordon Bombay, had their first game last night.
I am going to the Bruins vs. Ducks game Thursday.

So we decided to organize a Broomball team for our last semester in college. It looks something like this (except Team Gordon Bombay looks less goofy and more fierce):

I most closely resemble Emilio Estevez, so naturally I am Captain of this team. You may have thought I was physical-activity-challenged, but I assure you I am a beast in the face of competition.

Here are some of our team strategies:

Growl
Scream
Push (but don't get a penalty)

We're still working on the logistics. But last night we were victorious. (Do I smell championships in the distance?) Our final score was 3-1 but I'll just call it 4-0 because Team GB scored all four goals.

Our team is amazing. All the guys are superstars who have at some point played hockey (or some aggressive alternative.) All the girls are vicious. Christina has some sweet dance moves when being goalie. Michelle took out a bag of frozen peas as soon as we got home. She landed on her knees three times. I hope she can walk today.

I just want to get back on the ice! After I graduate (in less than three months) I'll have to enroll in an aggressive yet relatively easy-on-the-bones (no breaks) activity. Suggestions welcomed.

Our next game is March 23. There is much to do until then.

Design and order team shirts
Memorize some motivational quotes from Mighty Ducks
Work on my growl
Find a photographer

Does anyone know a good place to order customized t-shirts???

Valentine's Weekend: The Breakdown

2009-02-18T00:55:00.006-05:00

Valentine's Day 2009

(I guess I should have sent this to Ali BEFORE she purchased a dozen eggs for our first romantic event of the weekend: chucking eggs and happy couples.)

Dates: Ali, Michelle, Katie

Locations: Pour House, our apartment, Green Dragon, Big City

Memories:
(at Pour House)

Strange Man: (consoling his friend who just faced rejection) Dude, it's ok. You know one thing about tonight. If they're out, they're single.

Maria: I wanna wake up where you are.
Ali: You do. Every day.

(at Green Dragon)

Bouncer: (to Ali) That's a lot of singles. I know

what you do for a living.

(a 75 year old man tries to pass us)
Ali: Sorry
Old Man: For what?
Ali: For being in your way.

(old man starts stroking Ali's torso)
Old Man: You'll never be in my way.

(an ex-convict takes a stool next to Ali)
Ex-con: I just got kicked out of Sissy K's for being in a bar fight.
EC's Scrawny Friend: Stop scaring the girl!

Two nights of dance parties to oldies in our apartment.

OJ: Tip your bartenders! Two dollars, not one. For giving you the nectar of life!

(at Big City)
Hot Bartender: You girls are nursing those beers. Do you need a shot to get you going?
Ali: We've been drinking for six days straight...
(bartender snaps around and begins pouring shots.)
Ali: I'm going to leave him your number.

Michelle: Ugh! The pole is in the way. DAMN YOU POLE!
(puches pole)

Your mom's husky!

2009-02-12T00:13:00.009-05:00

My Monday consisted of severe harassment from my boss, a Northeastern alum, convinced BU would lose the 2009 Beanpot. Every time I passed his office, I'd hear him yell, "CHOKE!" or "LOSE!" Our insults and curses went back and forth for about a week.

And then came the championship game.

I had ten minutes to change by the time I got home from work. Dinner was a 50 mL Newcastle. Tara and I speed-walked to the T to meet Sean and Mike. A mass of red drowned the land.

Game time.

We took our seats and prepared for battle.

We put the Northeastern starting line in their place.

Northeastern Sucks from Maria F on Vimeo.

We sat next to the BU band who pumped us up during the night. They played Shipping Up To Boston to rile up the crowd.

Shipping Up to Boston! from Maria F on Vimeo.

The game went by fast. One ref took a puck to the face. There were several penalties. But that didn't stop the Terriers from scoring three shorthanded goals. SO exciting! Of course all the Huskies left when they realized they didn't have a chance.

We stayed to sing, hug, laugh, cry and watch the banner fall. (go Dynamic Edition!)

The T ride home was fantastic, even though I was sandwiched between Tara, Sean and a stranger's armpit.

Singing on the T from Maria F on Vimeo.

On our way home we stopped at the Dugout, a bar on campus. It was full of red jerseys still cheering and singing. The hockey team eventually showed up in suits surrounded by their proud parents, siblings and a couple overdressed girls hoping to get lucky.

This is the most school spirit you will experience at BU. Singing in the Dugout on a Monday at 1 in the morning surrounded by the hockey team, Dean Elmore and your best friends.

Go Terriers!

(maybe next decade, Don...)

Cleaning out my inbox

2009-02-09T00:03:00.003-05:00

You know the drill.* Share some funny texts.

*These do not include several texts from my mother saying, "woot," "LOL" and "OMG."

Dec 27 DREW: I had no idea I was going to the hood till it was too late but once I was there I was shitting bricks.

Jan 3 CHRISTINA: 2009 our year to shine!

Jan 6 STEVE: No more CSI for you.

Jan 14 ANON: I didn't want your dad beating me with a hockey stick like I was a rabid squirrel.

Jan 15 ZACH: Get me my prune juice bitch!

Jan 15 ALI: OMG there is some idiot grad student that sounds like Screech teaching my class.

Jan 18 JOE: ... And it's deuce deuce and the tre deuce in my bubble goose.

Jan 22 MOM: You didn't sms me last night Missy Misserina!

Jan 24 ZACH: Yea sure. I'm dressed like a guido. If that's cool.

Jan 26 JOE: What woman? I keep it pimpin.

Jan 29 DREW: What's your e-mail? I got ringers. They're all young and in shape.

Jan 29 DREW: Sent. Let the domination begin.

Feb 4 SEAN: Use your third grade karate skills on him. Be sure to pack your 9mm just in case.

Feb 4 NOELLE: [redacted] said hi to me on the street today. I think what he really meant to say was will you be my Valentine.

Feb 5 TARA: Hahaha best year ever!

Feb 8 JOE: Afuck eyou.

P.S. I want these.

Michael's new endorsement.

2009-02-04T00:08:00.008-05:00

Forget the apology... Let's talk about how Michael Phelps has become the poster boy for Roor Bongs.

Even before the medalist was caught touching his lips to one of these coveted pieces of glass, Roor Bongs were the high-end tools that marijuana connoisseurs contemplated and admired through specialty forums and smokey basements.

But Phelps is no ordinary pot smoker. He needs something special for those superhuman lungs of his. Since the photograph, Roor has become a high-performance bong. Roor has become the Bong of Champions. Roor has become the breast bong ever. (Get it? Breast... Stroke... get... no? Yea I made that one up myself.)

Let's see how many people customize their very own Roor Gold-Medal Worthy bong now that the brand has been exposed through tabloids everywhere.

This Phelps-Bong relationship could really go somewhere. I mean the money probably won't be as good as that from his other sponsors but Roor can probably customize some pretty intricate pieces for him.

Animal analyzed the bong in the picture concluding:

The German made, thick tubed, award winning water pipe features frosted glass diffusers instead of the more standardized rubber grommets and retails for between $120-150. Judging from the photo, it looks like the bong is from their 'Red' series that come in 3.2 mm thickness and range from 13-17 inches, except this one was custom emblazoned—for an additional charge—with a "V". For victory perhaps?

I would love to see what, if anything, Phelps' PR fiasco does for Roor's bottom line.

Additional Reading: Sally Jenkins' Big Bong Theory.

PETA: Brilliant or Desperate?

2009-02-01T17:42:00.003-05:00

I'm going to lean toward desperate on this one.

Disclaimer: I am an unashamed and unrelenting meat eater. I have parts of four different animals in my fridge right now.

I'll give PETA a few points for identifying their audience fairly well, although I'm not sure that's very difficult considering the event. There will probably be several commercials with scantily clad women during the Super Bowl.

But is this commercial even effective? Will a couple naked girls licking pumpkins and broccoli convince people to put down their chicken wings and chili dogs and abstain from meat?

No.

These guys sum up some questions I had when I first saw the commercial: did they intend to create a commercial that would be rejected to stir up more controversy and attention? Is this really original?

(Conversation starts at about 1:18)

PETA Commercial Banned, Intentional? from Skip Wisconsin on Vimeo.

PETA appeals to the sex drive first by showing sexual acts and finally by claiming that vegetarians have better sex. What would have been effective is if they revealed which studies surmised this.

They probably didn't because it's not true.

A Slate article examines the claim more thoroughly with, you know, some actual facts.

Vegetarian diets tend to correlate with higher rates of zinc deficiency, which is closely associated with lower testosterone levels and depressed sex drives. Vegetarian women are also more likely to develop amenorrhea (loss of periods), a condition that's usually accompanied by low testosterone, vaginal dryness, and poor libido. Finally, the notion that overweight people are less sexually active isn't entirely accurate (for women, at least): A recent analysis published in the journal Obstetrics & Gynecology shows that overweight women might, in fact, be slightly more active.

Bottom line: PETA's advertising tactics have always revolved around shock value. This is really nothing new. Maybe PETA should take a tip from Jamie Oliver.

Why Chris Brogan's advice on being yourself only applies to some.

2009-01-27T22:22:00.004-05:00

Today in my New Media class we watched two videos about finding your voice in business that Chris Brogan posted on his blog a few days ago. I had seen them in my Blogreader but watching again in class made me realize that I do not completely agree with him.

It seems that Chris' only solution to finding your voice in business is to be yourself. I'm all for "being yourself" and I agree with his saying that he is just going to be himself because then it's easier to remember which "me" he's being.

He says that swearing is part of his personality and therefore he will swear when he feels it necessary. I can understand this. I've been known to get creative with expletives on occasion. But there's a time and a place for everything.

I do not think that tactically censoring myself is being a different me.

Chris' advice only applies to a certain kind of person. It applies to a person who has established themselves and has the power and ability to say what they want and rationalize their behavior after the fact. Chris Brogan has established himself. He has positioned himself as a guru, whether people agree with that title or not. He is a go-to guy. He can say what he wants and people can decide to listen or ignore.

I am an intern. I am working to position myself as a reliable and ideal hire in a few months when I graduate. Not only is it unprofessional to swear in front of my coworkers and superiors and then justify it by claiming to be acting as my true self but I would feel extremely uncomfortable swearing or behaving in certain ways at work.

Similarly, I would feel extremely uncomfortable swearing in the middle of a classroom, in the middle of dinner at a friend's house and while giving directions to an innocent old lady on the side of Comm Ave. You need to consider the implications of your behavior before acting out sporadically.

It is irresponsible and disrespectful to disregard your audience.

There's a time and a place for everything. Chris missed out on this point. Yes you need to be able to show your personality. Yes you must always stand up for yourself. No you should not feel entitled to behave however you want for the sake of being yourself. Chris forgot to mention that it is essential to identify your audience and act accordingly.

Tactically censoring yourself and basing behavior on audience doesn't mean you're not being you. There is not one you.

Sometimes it's a good idea to take advice like this with a grain of salt. Sure it would be nice to have free reign to say and do what you want but that's not realistic in most cases.

Dad always has my best interest at heart...

2009-01-24T20:04:00.005-05:00

Watching the NHL Superskills and Young Stars Game and texting the old man.

Maria: Found it. I'm watching.
Dad: They had the fastest skater and trick shooting already.
Maria: Oh poop. Some of these guys are dreamy! I'll have to look into the Boston ones. Muahah.
Dad: Check for teeth!

(at first glance)

(a closer look)

Inauguration Day Blog Post #7,987,231,003

2009-01-20T22:10:00.006-05:00

via

Forget what Michelle Obama was wearing... Let's talk about Aretha's hat for a minute. I personally would have preferred to hear Chain of Fools but somehow I feel that would have been considered inappropriate.

Today, my sociology class was canceled so we could experience some history. I wish I could have been there like Dean Elmore. I'm happy he shared his experience through Twitter.

Don't forget to grab a quart of Legal Sea Food's New England Clam Chowder for $4.44 by January 23! (one quart usually $16.95. Gotta love all these inauguration goodies.)

I am looking forward to four years of some quality blogging by President Obama.

This collection of celebration and reaction around the world is heartwarming.

To Be Installed in my first Big Girl Apartment

2009-01-19T17:02:00.005-05:00

Last night the girls and I watched Sex and the City (the movie), which I had not seen for (if you know me) obvious reasons.

This Heineken commercial (sent by my dad) was stuck in my head during the closet scene.

(can I have both?)

Pictures to show you how crazy the year was.*

2009-01-11T01:06:00.049-05:00

*The links have more juicy details.

New Year's Eve 2008.

The room situation in 2008.

Boogying.

Valentines 2008 at the Slackers concert.

Spring Break Two Thousand Great: London.

At Archangel in London. Yes. My tights tore while I was out.

With Chrissy Poo, our host, at Imperial.

...and then we had a pillow fight.

On the London Eye. I told her to stay away from the window.

Spring Break London.

Some crazy fool in London.

Birthday dance with Zachary.

Birthday dinner. Happy 21st to me!

On a roof for Marathon Monday.

Semi-Annual End Of Semester binge.

Last day at COM Student Services.

Stanley Cup.

Ann Arbor. New friends, new experiences.

The Infamous Wednesday.

Nichole was such a slave driver. Look how she's forcing me to hold the monkey.

Emily's birthday. This was before she started rapping.

Going Away Luau.

The Semi-Annual Back To School Binge.

Many action shots were taken this year.

Parents Weekend and a visit from the family.

The hottest costume this Halloween.

Sometimes these things happen.

Being attacked.

Attacking Brian with my weapon. (I was the girl from Kill Bill, obviously.)

Christina H at An Tua Nua!

The typical scene at An Tua Nua.

Senior Hard Hat Party.

Dancing and singing at Com Prom.

Noelle's famous Pirate Eye.

Our first Thanksgiving feast.

Chi Phi formal: Reunion with Meaghan, our old roommate.

Thanksgiving with the cousins.

Chrissy Poo and the end of 20 Wads.

Secret Santa and holiday dinner.

Ice skating with cousin Anna.

Dancing our way into 2009.

New Year's Eve 2009: Ann Arbor.

It's going to be a good one. I can feel it.

The Closest I Came To Beating Someone: 2008 Edition

2009-01-08T02:38:00.007-05:00

[one of] The most infuriating encounter of 2008 occurred in October at two in the morning in the lobby of my dorm.

Noelle and I had just come back from An Tua Nua. We live in different towers and were not ready to go to our rooms so we talked behind the guard booth for a while. Two guys approached us even though we were clearly deep in conversation. Most of my replies were lies because I wasn't in the mood to be nice.

Guy: Hey you guys were at An Tua Nua.

Maria: No. (turns away)

Guy: Hey are you in the School of Management?

Maria: Yea. I'm talking to my friend.

Guy: Me too! How does it feel to know you'll never be as good as a man? When you graduate, you'll never make as much as a man. How does that feel? You'll be washing my dishes and doing my laundry!

All I heard was his condescension echoing in the deafening silence that followed. I was so blindsided by this asshole that it took me a little while to react. Noelle and I looked at each other wondering how the hell this ignorant, delusional chauvinist could be standing right there in our dorm, in the middle of Boston, saying these things.

People who know me wouldn't consider me a feminist. You don't need to be a feminist to be enraged by people like this. I wanted to punch him in the jaw but the two guards were watching the entire ordeal and it wasn't worth being kicked out of housing.

Instead, I hit him (figuratively) where guys like that are most vulnerable: his manhood. I started laughing while saying, "yea. My goals in life are to serve you. YOU are so amazing!"

I said goodnight to Noelle and walked to my tower screaming back to them, "Have fun trying to get laid! At least you two boys have each other!" and other things that shouldn't be repeated. One of the guards collapsed with heart palpitations because of my language so I got in the elevator and stormed upstairs.

If I see that kid again, I will beat him.

NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTION #1: Beat ass if necessary. Sometimes physical violence is the most appropriate option.

Better than Miami, New York and even Vegas.

2009-01-06T02:03:00.011-05:00

I snuck through the crowded parking lot imagining all the ways my long black scarf could be used to strangle me. Someone could be hiding under that rusty, old van waiting to tackle me to my death.

If they think I won't fight back, they're sadly mistaken.

Today my mom and I visited the Oakland County Circuit Court so she could be sworn in as a notary public. A policewoman stopped us at the metal detectors and instructed us to return our phones to the car; no cameras were allowed. This is when I set out on my mission.

I grabbed my mom's cell phone, looked her in the eyes and said determinedly, "Give me the keys. I'll take care of this."

I walked through the exit, eyes wide open, careful not to let any future clues slip my sight. The authenticity of CSI: Miami was confirmed when I eyed a large bus with tinted windows, clearly used to transport criminals.

I walked with conviction along the sidewalk, examining each car I passed for anything unusual. My mind fell victim to fantasy (and perhaps too much TV.)

...

A camera pans across the parking lot, weaving through a neat line of cars belonging to the dozens of people leaving the circuit court. The camera finishes with the lot and focuses in on me, CSI Maria.

I am wearing sunglasses. Sporadic, but obviously natural, gusts of wind move my hair so that it bounces catching the light in just the right places. The gun strapped to my hip warns people not to fuck with me.

All of a sudden, a gun shot rattles the winter silence. People scream and duck by cars and bare trees, anxiously using purses and limbs to shield small children and geriatrics. I stealthily remove my gun from the holster and point it into the air while screaming, "Get down!" I call for back-up on my walkie talkie as I walk in a half squat.

I spot something. My peripheral vision is better than the straight-on vision of a pilot in the Air Force.

Oh no he didn't.

The shooter is trying to make a getaway. He's on foot.

"Stop where you are!" I warn him. But like most criminals, he doesn't listen. He has no idea who he's messing with.

The shooter takes off into the woods. I break out in a sprint faster than my dad racing my brothers for the last piece of mom's carrot cake. Gun in hand, I leap over branches and abnormally large stones while chasing after the shooter. He's slowing down. I fire some shots for effect.

I'm gaining on him.

I tear a large branch from a tree I'm passing and throw it at the perpetrator's back. It's enough to send him flying. When I reach him, I step on his back smearing his face in a large pile of wolf droppings. If I wasn't so excited about torturing him in the interrogation room, I'd leave him for the wolves.

Instead, I alert my extremely attractive (but inferior in speed) male partner that, once again, I've caught the bad guy. I kneel on his spine and pull the shooter's arms behind his back.

"You run slower than my 85 year old yia yia, who's legs resemble chopped off 300 year old tree stumps," I whisper in his ear as I cuff him.

...

Back in the real world, I locate mom's car and put our phones in the glove compartment. A convict stares me down as I re-enter the court. I go to finger my gun just to realize there's nothing there. I pick up the pace so the elderly police woman can protect me if anything should happen.

Some expert advice: If you're ever attacked, fight back and leave DNA so there will be a trail when the detectives come looking.

Anyway... It didn't take long for mom to be sworn in. We left court and started driving out of the complex. My skin tingled as we passed the medical examiner's office. I let my mind drift to the ME's slab and the murder victim who's death I was about to solve.

Enough with the cities. I should sell the rights to (and star in) a new series called CSI Maria.

Jerry Bruckheimer... Call me!

Final Funny Texts of 2008

2009-01-04T02:06:00.002-05:00

It was a good year for my inbox...

Nov 13 ERIN: Don't get kidnapped, or else you have to forfeit your dance contest with Chris.

Nov 13 MARISSA: Yo I got the number to the "rejection" hotline so you can give that to the creeps that as for your number.

Dec 3 DREW: Emotions. Ugh makes me want to vomit.

Dec 4 NOELLE: Be careful what you wish for. I will not hesitate to go Twilight on your ass.

Dec 7 STEVE: Katie Perry!!!!

Dec 8 NICK: Should you be texting in class La'Maria?

Dec 10 SEAN: I nearly jumped out of a 6th story window today. Let's hope we both survive long enough to make it to the party. (in reference to finals week)

Dec 15 JOE: If you see the Zicam commercial look how big that girls smile is. It's absurd.

Dec 18 MOM: To prepare we first need to go out to lunch to get our strength up then to cupcake factory cuz... just cuz. Then hair salon! N'est pas?

Dec 21 DAD: I am outside walking for exercise so if you call and I do not answer then I will call back in five. We have gale force winds with light snow and a temp of about 15 degrees.

Dec 21 DAD: People here are wacky enough without ingesting helium.

Dec 31 JOE: Woteva batty boi.

Jan 1 CHRISTINA: Looking fine in 09! Was my quote of the night... How was Ann Harbor? (an honest question)

Jan 1 ALI: Oh sweet chocolate Christ.

Scrabble Master Maria Fights to Hold Title

2009-01-03T02:38:00.008-05:00

Happy New Year kids!

The reason I haven't posted in a while is that I have been holed up in the basement learning strange new words whereby to beat Joe's ass in Scrabble. It has become an intense rivalry, averaging a few games laden with creative shit-talking and dirty looks.

It all started with the old ladies, who didn't really get the concept of the game.

Dad turned it up a notch by forming coherent and tactical words.

Joe has been a menacing cheater since day one.

Desperation has forced us to learn strange new words while filling a few interesting boards (notice "keg" and "gat" at the mid-right section):

After holding the position of Ultimate Scrabble Champion for some time, the little shit finally beat me. I'll tell you one thing. I'll never play while Law and Order SVU is on again.

Gotta love winter break.

Grandma wants the juicy details.

2008-12-26T17:44:00.003-05:00

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.

2008-12-25T01:15:00.005-05:00

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.

2008-12-25T00:41:00.006-05:00

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.

2008-12-25T00:11:00.006-05:00

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.

2008-12-24T22:57:00.004-05:00

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.

2008-12-24T22:20:00.003-05:00

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.

2008-12-24T21:25:00.004-05:00

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.

2008-12-24T00:02:00.005-05:00

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.

2008-12-23T23:10:00.003-05:00

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.

2008-12-23T21:09:00.006-05:00

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.

2008-12-23T16:59:00.002-05:00

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

2008-12-23T13:29:00.003-05:00

(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:

2008-12-20T23:29:00.005-05:00

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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.

2008-12-20T00:48:00.008-05:00

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.

2008-12-19T00:30:00.008-05:00

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

2008-12-17T23:23:00.006-05:00

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

2008-12-17T00:33:00.003-05:00

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

2008-12-16T00:52:00.007-05:00

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

2008-12-14T22:25:00.011-05:00

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.

2008-12-14T01:14:00.010-05:00

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.

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