The Rundown

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!

Grandma wants the juicy details.

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

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

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

Reaction:

Grandma's Question from Maria F on Vimeo.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Here we go.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"MARIA!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Crisis averted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Did you just come back sir?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No one budges.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Arv wore his pin home. Steve gave me his.

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

Aaah. Little Man Syndrome.

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

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

Someone get this kid a bigger shirt.

Weirdos in Logan, and Other Tales From the Road

(Pic)

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

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

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

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

The following stories are true.

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

How to avoid a mental breakdown during stressful holiday travel:

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

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

This Winter Wonderland is ruining my life.

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



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

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



It's a winter wonderland!



Christina! My dark little snow angel!



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

End-of-Semester Delirium

I just read "spinach" and "spine ache." I think I need to take a break from all this end-of-semester nonsense.

SO!

Congratulations to Steve for earning his blue belt in Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. Gabriel Gonzaga awarded him his belt Saturday night. Hopefully this means I'll learn some new moves over winter break.

I will now go dance in my messy room. This may happen in the process:

Thanksgiving Leftovers

It is IMPOSSIBLE to explain the concept of a blog to people who don't even have dial-up.

Yai has a computer for the sole purpose of playing solitaire. She doesn't turn it off because she wouldn't know how to turn it back on. Her opinion of the internet is that I should be careful, because the internet is where girls get stalked and hunted and molested. Gram thinks her cordless phone is called a cell phone. Alternate realities.

I needed to unplug. Even though it was painful.

Quality family time was much needed and enjoyed. I hadn't seen my cousins in a while. Nick, a 7th grader, is taller than me. And has dubbed me La'Maria after I showed him La'Sarah. Glad to see I have the same sense of humor as 7th grade boys.



I missed some great That's What She Said moments. Luckily, Steve and I were able to share them with silent nods of recognition. We were censored for most of the trip. Except when we were with Yai. So basically for just a couple hours at nouna's.

Jokes are difficult to pull off with generational and cultural differences...

My favorite part of visiting family is staying up late at night talking.

Last night at the dinner table at about 10 PM, Yai announced she had a joke to tell us.

Yai: Ok. I have a joke.
Maria: Oooh!
Yai: A long time ago in a small village in Greece, there was a donkey...
[Maria and Steve erupt with laughter]
Yai: What's so funny?
Steve: Jokes don't usually start like that. They're usually about something racist or sexist or gross, not small villages in Greece.

Yai finished her joke and had to explain the punch line because we didn't get it.

Steve decided to share a more modern joke about three hungry guys who go to a stranger's farm asking for food. The farmer lets them pick whatever they want as long as they show him before they leave. The first guy comes back with grapes. The farmer says, "you can have them but you have to shove them up your butt."

Here's the end of the joke. Yai needed some explanation too.

Generation gaps. Such a pain.



Telling Dirty Jokes With Yai from Maria F on Vimeo.

The new face of Cinammon Toast Crunch

Steve: What time do you eat dinner?
Gram: Oh about 3:30.
Steve: WHAT?
Gram: Well, I get up and have breakfast at 5 or earlier. Then I have lunch at about 10:30. Then I have dinner at about 3:30.
Steve: What time do you go to bed?
Gram: Well, it depends if there's a game on. I'll stay up to watch the games so sometimes I don't get to bed till 10:30 or 11.
Steve: Don't you get hungry?
Gram: Oh I found a delicious cereal that I snack on sometimes.
(reaches under counter and pulls box of cereal in front of her face.)
Gram: Have you ever had it? It's delicous!
(holding Cinnamon Toast Crunch like she was the first to discover it)

I will puke if I see another turkey.

INTERNET ACCESS!!! A precious commodity when staying in Western Mass with the grandparents.

We just left grandma's. I will never take home cooked meals for granted again. This Thanksgiving has been fantastic. Haven't had to cook or clean at ALL! SWEET!

For some reason, it's assumed that Steve needs mounds and mounds of food or he will die. And Maria? She'll be fine.

Gram and Yai have been cooking for days in order to provide Steve with adequate "to-go" boxes. Yai has a spiral ham in the oven and made an extra turkey earlier. Gram prepared days in advance.

Tonight at dinner, Steve made me surrender the last 7 leaves of lettuce in my bowl right before informing me I can forget about eating any of the Polish sausage gram made him. Don't think I'm getting my hands on any spiral ham either. Such is the nature of holiday's with the human disposal.

Steve's box of goodies:



Maria's box of goodies:



Maybe that's a hint that I should watch my figure to find a husband. Pressure's on. Literally someone mentioned marriage last night. In reference to an approaching event. Did I mention my family is delusional?

If I am asked one more time what my plans are for after college I will stab someone with my half of the wishbone.

Parents Weekend: Brazilian Jiu Jitsu

So much happened this weekend. Let's start from today...


My brother, Steve, has been training in Worcester with Team Link, a team started by UFC champ Gabriel Gonzaga, for a while. Today was the first time I've watched Steve fight. It was awesome.

We arrived at Ludlow High School early so Steve could weigh in with the rest of the fighters. I watched as each fighter approached the scale. Some were fully clothed while others weighed in wearing nothing but their tighty-whiteys and coats of chest fur. Weights ranged from about 50 to over 200.

Prior to arriving at the gym, Steve calmly informed me that if something went wrong and he broke something, it would be difficult for us to get back to Worcester since I don't drive stick.... Apparently at his previous match, he heard a pop that he thought was a man hitting the ground but turned out to be a man snapping his upper arm in half. I prepared for the worst.

Two of Steve's friends and I watched the gi round, which Steve fought twice in, scoring silver.



In the no-gi round, Steve again fought twice and received silver. The no-gi matches were insane. Here is Steve dominating for a little over 4 minutes. His take-down at 3:39 is awesome. You can hear his coach, Marco Alvan, talking about how great the match is.



After he was finished fighting, Yai and Angelo waddled over to us. We had no idea they were watching the matches. Yai is such a stealth master.



This was a fantastic tournament. Both of my brothers are talented fighters and I can't wait to watch them kick ass again next time.



I'm going to go find someone to beat up now...

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just another packratting Tuesday...

You got it. Time to share those memorable texts I just couldn't let go of...


May 6 Drew: Call me when you get out of your final. Shots? (During my last final of junior year.)

May 7 Maria: Steve, I missed my train.
Steve: Maria are you kidding me? I told you to go 10 minutes early.
Maria: Haha just kidding. I'm on my way.
Steve: Haha I fucking hate you. I was gonna kill you.

May 9 Christina: R u bringing me back a man?

May 13 Noelle: Feels like August Rush down here at Park Street haha.

May 17 Christina: I'm laying out right now! Where are you I wanna oil you up! Haha.

May 18 Drew: I fell out of a hot air balloon is now my favorite bad pick up line. (Story here)

June 2 Mike: Do you want to go cabrewing on Friday? Or do you have to work?

June 4 Noelle: Sounds delightful. Let's both wear nothing.

June 6 Joe: Plop dop?

June 8 Joe: Global warming is ripping through Bham.

June 12 Mom: Oui. De rien. AKA Ja voll. Kein problem.

June 16 Joe: My snot is black from second hand smoke and inhaling dust haha I'm going to die soon.

June 17 Michelle: It just started go buck wild.

June 20 Joe: Mom's a hardass!



John McCain approves this blog post.














..

Chooch visits his sister.

I love having guests!

Joe came to visit me two weeks ago for his spring break. The little bugger arrived at about 8 AM Wednesday morning. I eagerly awaited his arrival in Logan airport. He came down the escalator and I didn't realize until he was standing next to me that he'd grown another three inches. We headed to my dorm stopping at Dunkin Donuts for some breakfast. I brought him up to my room where he threw his luggage on the floor and spent some time looking at the things on my walls. The first thing he scoffed at were the advertisements of men (mostly scantily clad) on the wall next to my bed. I left him to ponder the greatness of my room and sleep while I went to work.

Several hours later, I returned to find him snoring like a chainsaw with The Mask DVD menu repeating itself on my TV. I took him to the dining hall for a little snack then brought him to an after-hours work event I had to attend. It involved passing out registration codes to freshmen. I figured he wouldn't mind checking out the girls. Apparently they didn't mind checking him out either. Several approached him to ask questions while I was across the hall handing out codes and trying not to gag after someone drive-by-farted in my area. He and my bosses made fun of me and then I dragged him away. We had a barbecue to attend.

Joe and I caught up on life while walking to the other side of campus. Drew came by work that week to inform me he really wanted to grill something. Joe and I headed to the house where Drew greeted us eager to work the grill. In the kitchen, Drew had already prepared six massive lumps of meat with a "special rub" he brought all the way from Texas. Joe and I were very excited. Meat and beer. What more can you ask for? A bunch of us stood on the porch. While Drew tended to the burgers, the other guys told me to bring Joe to a lot of parties and told Joe to tell girls he was actually a freshman in college. We took the burgers inside and ate around the kitchen counter. They were the best burgers I've had in a while. We all went to Zach's room where the boys played video games and made fun of each other. Joe got pretty accurate insight into the Chi Phi lifestyle. I was happy he got to meet people I see often. We went home and were so tired we passed out at 10:30. Day one, great success!

Thursday we woke up around noon and headed to the GSU for lunch. I finished my Stats homework while Joe ate Twizzlers and played on the Gameboy he stole from my room. I brought him to class so he could see what he has to look forward to. My Stats class is a 1.5 hour lecture taught by a Russian with a heavy, almost indecipherable accent. I guided Joe to the seat I claimed for myself this semester in the very last row. I took notes while he tried to beat Donkey Kong. About an hour into the class, we both bored of our tasks. He took my graphing calculator and we wrote notes to each other. Some read along the lines of "if you read this you have herpes" and "stop talking. your breath smells like dirty butt." We giggled silently as we insulted each other in the back row. After the lecture, I brought Joe to Uburger, a famous establishment here at BU. It was very enjoyable. Later that night we went to see Doomsday. The movie was bizarre, ridiculous and one long advertisement for the new Bentley Continental GT but it was highly entertaining and left me with the overwhelming desire to punch someone and then run them over with a Bentley.

Friday morning I left Joe snoring like a trucker while I went to work. The office was not busy and my bosses are wonderful so I got to leave a couple hours early to be with my brother. He met me at work and then we went to he GSU for some food. We went to Fenway to get him a Red Sox hat that fit since the one I got him for Christmas was a couple sizes too big. Oops. We went to the Prudential with the roommates hoping to go to Cheesecake Factory for dinner. Upon discovering there was about a two hour wait, we headed to the food court and got Japanese food instead. Some old man was leaning back in his chair convulsing. We thought he might be having a heart attack or something so Michelle and Ali informed security who then told them he was a "regular sleeper." Security woke him up and he wandered around the food court falling asleep while standing in front of various fast food booths. (Joe got a pretty good taste of Boston during the trip.)

That night we brought Joe to a party at our (often visited) friends' house. We sketchily entered through a back door leading us to a dirt floor basement that opened into a brick room with a bar, graffiti, Christmas lights and people dancing. Joe was able to meet some of my friends and experience dumb, drunk people as well as a dance party to Shipping Up To Boston and The Impression That I get, two Boston favorites. We left the party and brought Joe to T Anthony's for pizza. Free Falling was playing so we all sang along with the drunk people. We got a large pizza to share. When Erin and Noelle referred to it as a pie, Joe asked them to repeat five times and didn't understand. Don't Stop Believing came on so naturally everyone danced and sang loudly. Another accurate taste of college life here.

We had an early morning the next day. Steve came up to visit from Worcester. It was great to have both of my brothers here at the same time. We were a little late to meet Steve at the train station so, in a true OCD/ADD/whatever-you-want-to-call-it fury, Steve called about ten times before we reached the station. We had a lot to catch up on since we hadn't seen each other since Christmas so we went to Teriyake House. I got a delicious passion fruit smoothie and orange chicken. That place has the best smoothies. We left Teriyake House and Steve firmly stated, "I would never live in Boston." When asked why, he told me it was because there are "too many people and too much going on. I like being in small areas." Oh Stever. I know. We went back to my room where the boys watched Brick and I made weird noises while taking a nap. (Another trait I've inherited from my father.) We brought Steve back to the station then Joe and I met the roommates for dinner at Charlie's. After a power nap, Joe and I went to see 21 with Noelle. The movie was ok. It was exciting to recognize so many places. (The movie was film on our campus.) I made sure to point out every place to Noelle and Joe. "I forgot I hate watching movies with you," Noelle whispered loudly.

Sunday we woke up in time for Joe to pack and eat some breakfast. While waiting for the T I realized I forgot his passport in my room so I sprinted (ok... speed walked) to my room and then back to the station. We rushed to his gate to discover his flight was delayed a little. By the time I got back to my dorm he was calling to tell me his flight, which was supposed to leave at 1 PM, would actually be leaving at 8 PM! Delta! What the hell! So poor Joe was stranded in Logan with nothing but an old Gameboy, Donkey Kong and our mom calling repeatedly to make sure he hadn't been kidnapped by a pedophile.

Joe finally made it home ok. I was very happy he and Steve came to visit. Joe got to see a lot of my life here including my crazy roommates, friends, bosses, place of employment, boring Stats class, favorite places to eat and the city that I love. He even reminded me how much stronger than me he is by tossing me over his shoulder and slamming me onto the air mattress on the floor which squealed as it deflated under my weight. Come back Chooch!!!!