Valentine's Weekend: The Breakdown

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!

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...)

Ode to Noelle: The Halloween Costume That Beckoned The Most Male Attention

You need one of these:




It was a little difficult to drink out of...





...but it was, by far, the Halloween costume that attracted the most male attention. And not in a creepy way. So for future reference... ditch that skank costume and get your hands on one of these babies:



















(P.S. Does anyone know who the joker was? An Tua Nua? Last Thursday? We're dying to know...)

Cover bands are sweet but I'm too lame to think of good song requests.

Tomorrow's already Thursday. I better just tell you what happened on Saturday night real quick.




Erin and the Northeastern boys went to Purple Shamrock in Fanueil. While I was waiting in line to meet them, scarf over my head like a babushka, some bald, tattooed men decided to claim me as theirs. When it was our turn to go in, one paid my cover saying, "it's only money." The best part was that he disappeared for the rest of the night. That's what I call service with a smile.

The first song played as I entered was Blister in the Sun. In case you didn't know, that is my and Erin's song. The stars aligned. Saturday was fantastic. Here are some highlights:

• Hot, nice, southern boys from Berklee.
• Canadians
• Nice girls (this is extremely rare. Especially at bars. But this weekend we were two for two.)
• Live cover band that played great songs.

Not only was the band entertaining musically, they were also very nice between sets. One of them told me I was a funny dancer (apparently in a good way... but I'm skeptical) and the other tried to get the band to play my song requests.

The guitarist was Greek so that was awesome. He kept speaking Greek to me. I got some of it. Like when he called me koukla... which just reminded me of my Yia.

During one of their sets, he noticed a creepy guy was trying to dance with me. Guitar in arms, strumming away, he walked off the stage and pointed out the situation to a guard. I was able to handle the creeper with harsh expletives but it was nice to know someone was watching out. When he noticed the creeper leave, he signaled me to the stage and told me he was going to make sure the guy didn't come back and if I need anything say something. Yea bodyguards!




I need to start thinking of lists of songs to request of cover bands. The only one I can think of is always Hard to Handle by the Black Crowes. Don't judge me. It's hard because it has to be something semi-popular that they'd know how to play.

Suggestions?

If you want to attract guys, rub McDonalds all over you. Or just carry a bag...

Fanueil Hall is by far my favorite weekend destination. I haven't had a single bad experience in that area, so far.

Friday night, Erin, Meesh and I went to the Green Dragon. It was my first time there. The bouncers were fun, younger guys who called us over to go inside.

Initial reasons this bar was a great choice...

...#1 No line
...#2 Cute and hilarious bouncers
...#3 Awesome bartender

Soon after ordering our beers, the band returned from a break and started playing covers. The Lisa Love Experience was the first female-fronted cover band I've seen so far. She was kick ass. She belted out those tunes with a spunky attitude and crazy dance moves.

Meesh, Erin and I boogeyed and made new friends including some Long Islanders and some Irish, who have apparently invaded Boston. People were dancing so intensely that the floor was shaking and we thought it might fall through. Here's a little video of the band singing a song that reminded us of Noelle.

Eye Spy:

1. A crazy Irish man posing for a picture, completely unaware he was on video
2. The annoying Long Islander who kept following us around
3. The singer (who is not named Lisa) pointing at me while belting it out
   
4. The psychotic, drunk groupie who kept trying to stroke and leap onto the guitarist
   

Sweet cover band at the Green Dragon. from Maria F on Vimeo.


The night ended and we headed to McDonalds to get in on some Walk-Thru Window action. Little did we know....

Erin ordering:





Meesh ravaging her burger:





If you are looking for ways to meet men, walk around with a McDonalds bag in hand. We were approached by literally every guy on the street. Everyone wanted a fry. Some really went over-board. We were trying to hail a cab and some 30-somethings came over begging for food and talking to us. One reached in Michelle's bag for a fry and instead pulled out her entire burger. We all started screaming as he devoured over a quarter of the sandwich in one bite. He ran away, mouth full, as I screamed I'd stab him with my heel.

We decided to relocate because no cabs were stopping. Two guys were walking up the Government Center stairs behind us, asking for fries.

Us: Go away.
Guy: Can I have a fry?
Us: No. We are never getting McDonalds again.
Guy: Come on! Where are you guys going, anyways? Where's the party?
Me: I'm not sure... my dad's coming to pick us up right now.

WELL! That is the best defense mechanism ever because he scattered faster than Chris running from dogs.


THEME OF THE YEAR #37: Compiling good lines to make guys go away.

1. My dad's picking me up.
2. No thank you, sir. (Noelle)
3. Why don't you give ME your number and then maybe I'll call later. (Tara)
4. Keep moving! (Erin)
5. Surprise transvestite costume (Katie)
   

Saturday was even more eventful so I'll write about it later.

Sleep tight, kids.

Timbaland and I write a song to tell J to back off.

While we're still playing catch-up, let's go back to Thursday real quick.

J had asked me to hang out with him Thursday night but I didn't feel like it so... I told him no. And then, because my name is Maria, he showed up at An Tua Nua. FANtastic.

J: You didn't expect to see me here did you?
Maria: Oh! No... I'm just here having a beer with my friends. I'm not staying long.
J: Cool. So. That movie we saw the other night...

At this point I stealthily escaped by gliding toward some people I recognized. He hovered a little and eventually I moved away completely.

I may have forgotten to mention that J is over 6 feet tall so he's a little hard to miss. All my friends, naturally, thought his presence was hilarious because they love seeing me suffer.

Later that night, I noticed him standing in a near-by corner. Watching me. I was talking to a guy. J was staring. Just standing there staring. I don't know where his friends were. I don't know what he thought was going to happen. But I alerted my friends who, apparently, had already noticed.

By now, the Red Sox (I'm sorry I have to mention it...) had come back from their 7 point loss so everyone was anxiously watching the game. J stood three feet behind me as Tara offered to pretend to be my lesbian lover and Sebastian made fun of him and made fun of me for being associated with him. Unfortunately, it was too late for the I'm-with-my-roommate defense.

The Red Sox won, Drop Kick Murphys roared in the background and I jumped around with Ali. Even Erin got into it. Noelle and Christina, however, were angry and continued shouting, "Tampa, Tampa."

J walked over and went in for a celebration hug. I relocated. J came back.

J: So much for that one beer, huh?
Maria: ... this is still my first, actually.
J: So, do you ever want to hang out again? Because I'd like to see you again but it doesn't seem like you want that too...
Maria:.... I mean... I don't know what to say. I'm just here having a beer with my friends...
J: Well, would you want to hang out next week?
Maria: Seriously I can't plan in advance. I have a bunch of projects and a ton of homework and I can't tell you for sure when we're meeting or what I'll be doing....

This fizzled out eventually.

Ok look. I'm not an asshole. Everything I said was true. I have group projects and a lot of homework. I have a full course load and work three days a week. My free time is precious.

If he had a personality that didn't resemble a TV screen I would be more than willing to hang out with him. But if he's just going to follow me around all night and talk about the same dumb movie we saw over a week ago.... I don't have time for that.

MORE OVER. He actually introduced himself to my friends. Can you believe that shit? If I want you to meet my friends, I will introduce you to my friends. DO NOT waltz over and start asking who is my roommate and introducing yourself. Your presence is noticed. People can see your head poking out of the crowd glaring and shooting the death glare while I joke around with my guy friends.

My mom said I should give him a chance, that he's just shy. I think two dates is enough chance to give. If I leave both dates trying to justify spending more time with him, that's a bad thing.

Strike One: Asking me to see Beverley Hills Chihuahua
Strike Two: Trying to corner me to achieve a good night kiss
Strike Three: Following me around a bar and introducing yourself to my friends.


So Timbaland and I wrote this song to express my feelings toward J. I have provided a video with the words. Feel free to play on repeat and sing along.

Weekend Update: Dating is not dead.

Just when I was starting to give up hope on single life in Boston, I met a genuinely nice guy who surprised me and proved that people still go on dates.

So last weekend I met this guy at Jake Ivory's. Let's call him J. We talked the whole night, made fun of people, danced a little... It was a good time. The bar closed and he asked for my number, so I gave it to him and by Thursday he had asked me out on a date.

I told my mom about this date and felt the repercussions shortly thereafter. My dad sent me an e-mail with a subject line, "So, he's interested in my daughter now, is he?" and with two attachments, the Rules for Dating my Daughter and the Application to Date my Daughter, which I re-posted below. The same day, I received the following text from my youngest brother:

"Maria. Tell J to watch his back when I'm there cause I built a special shank that has his name written all over it."

Saturday rolled around and J brought me to Joshua Tree for some drinks. Totally different experience going on a night other than Thursday, when the bar is usually full of the same BU kids you see every Thursday. We got a table, ordered some drinks and talked about life. UFC matches were on and Murilo Rua (who's photo below some of you may recognize from my desktop) and Andrei Arlovski were fighting so I was happy. Of course the only person most of the people cared about was Kimbo Slice who lost after about 10 seconds. Didn't even get to put up a fight. It was extremely disappointing. But I digress.




That was a great first date for me. We hung out, drank some beers and watched some fighting. He drove me home and asked if I would want to hang out again. I said no. His face dropped as he said, "...what?" which I followed up with, ".. just kidding.." Mom said it was too early to joke. I can't help it though. The situation was tense and I needed to break it up a little. So I guess if I didn't scare him we may go on another date. Or something. Who knows.

On my way home, Joe and I had the following exchange of texts:

Maria: I'm back from my date. We watched the Kimbo Slice match at a bar.
Joe: How'd he do?
Maria: He lost in ten f-ing seconds it was ridiculous. His eye got split open.
Joe: Not Kimbo bitch. The kid you went with.

This morning I received the following e-mail from my father:

Well, where are the completed forms? The review committee has been waiting since last night to begin the evaluation!

The committee decided I am allowed to go on a second date, so stay tuned...



In other news.

Friday was fantastic. Erin, Katie and I went to go see Beautiful Lies play at Berklee. I hadn't seen Dave play in a while so that was fun. After the show we went to Phil's apartment to party with the band. We kept hitting our heads on underwear hanging from some hangers. The undies were either not dry or decoration supplemental to a Bill Cosby sweater and random squirrel figurines propped up on speakers and sinks.

I always forget how much I hate gin. It tastes like Christmas. But instead of leaving presents, all you get in the morning is a raging hangover. Damn you Katie!

The quote of the night occurred while Katie, four of the boys and I were squashed in the kitchen taking shots.

Katie: What would your personal physical manifestation of weather be? Mine is drizzly.
(Silence)
Maria: ... Thunder and lightening.

Love those boys.

Saturday after the date I met Noelle and Christina at Tequila Rain. It was pretty fun. A group of guys started talking to us. One was wearing a Tap Out shirt so I asked if he watched the match earlier that night. He said yes and that he was an MMA fighter himself so we talked about fighint for the rest of the night. Saturday made me want to go watch my brothers fight. Hopefully that will happen some time soon.

Noelle stole the hat of one of the fighter's friends and danced around throwing up signs like she was part of the Korean Killers.




The bar shut down and hat-boy, who Noelle named Jersey even though he was from Florida, ran to say goodbye to us and slipped and fell flat on his ass. We had to tell Noelle today that the kid actually fell and was not break dancing. Poor girl felt cheated.

As we exited Tequila Rain, Noelle shouted,

"WELL! We sure got our money's worth!"

Booo creepy Liquor Store. HOOORAY Jake Ivory's!

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




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

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

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

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


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

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

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

Like sand through the hour glass...

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

BUT it's not THAT close yet.

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

FRIDAY

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

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

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



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

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

Friday's destination? Gypsy.

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

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

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

Similar situations repeated through the night.

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

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

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


SATURDAY

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

[Later]

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

[Later]

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



Ooohh Boston.

In the words of Operation Ivy...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Catching up with Maria

So basically I've unplugged for the last several days. Sometimes I just need to step away from the computer. I feel better now. You haven't missed anything except:

• I saw and loved Dark Knight. Dark indeed. The absence of Katie Holmes was a little distracting but probably not as distracting as her tragic new hair cut. Heath was amazingly creepy. Michael Caine is a silver fox. Christian Bale will always be fantastic, although I am skeptical about his upcoming role in Terminator.
• I almost had a heart attack when a chicken recipe from a chef self-labeled "Chef-Kyle-In Middle Skool" went terribly and utterly awry. I could feel my arteries closing.
• Bridget came home with Scabies. I'm convinced I have them now too.
• I witnessed Alexis reciting Romeo + Juliet (on VHS) word for word, including the music. I never realized how bizarre that movie is.
• I experienced two new Ann Arbor bars: Monkey Bar and Cafe Habana. Both were enjoyable. The latter reminded me of a bat cave. Bridget had a problem with the lighting.
• Emily turned 21. Hilarity ensued. Especially when she decided to name me Swiss Beats and then rap while trying to issue sobriety tests to those around her.
  

Hot air balloons are dangerous.*

*Actually written May 18th at 10:00 PM.


Last night was my last night in Boston for a couple months. I am ready for some time away. I'm ready for a couch and a TV bigger than my head and food that doesn't leave my body two minutes after I finish dinner and silence when I sleep instead of sirens and drunk Red Sox fans outside my window. Don't get me wrong. I'm going to miss Boston. Which is why, instead of packing and going to bed early last night like I should have, I spent my final night in Boston boogying at An Tua Nua with Drew.

That bar is infinitely less creepy when you go with a guy. Granted, there were still a lot of psychos. Nevertheless, Drew and I danced off the wave of depression that will (undoubtedly) follow my departure.

Guys at bars are so weird. I left the dance floor to get a beer and some guy who was at least a foot taller than me started a conversation. I noticed his accent, asked where he was from and he told me, Liverpool. He said he was here with his "mates" for a "match" because they were on the "football" team. Or were, he said, lifting his right hand and a cane (which I noticed earlier but was not drunk or rude enough to inquire on my own.) I asked what happened. He told me he fell out of a hot air balloon in Switzerland..... Yea. He proceeded to introduce me to his friends and brother. I asked him what really happened to his leg and he told me "a big girl, almost 300 pounds, flattened me in a club the other night!"

At least his imagination is still in tact.

I feel like Harold and Kumar looking for White Castle...

Just a week ago I was but a young 20 year old eagerly awaiting midnight. My how things have changed.

My birthday was pretty much one of the greatest things ever for several reasons. My parents clearly knew what they were doing when they conceived me. Last weekend was the perfect weekend to turn 21. Not only did my birthday fall on a Friday, it also fell on Marathon Monday weekend. Room 426 feared the weekend.

THURSDAY

I woke up at about 8 to finish my 12-20 page paper on Vietnam and the Tet Offensive that was due the previous Tuesday. I finished my paper after a few hours and then called my Media Relations professor, who I was supposed to be meeting that morning. She informed me that I was mistaken... she NEVER has office hours on Thursday. Thursday is her day with her kids. After making me feel like a heartless over-achiever who would receive a final grade of "F," she told me we could just talk on the phone. We talked about my internship this summer and I told her it's my first internship and I'm nervous I'll screw everything up and look like a complete rookie. She told me that if my only worry was that I'd make a mess up, stop worrying. First, my bosses will not expect perfection, she told me. Also, I am a professional and conscientious student and she knows I'll do well, she told me! WOW!! This was just what I needed to hear.

Feeling wonderful about myself and my future, I packed my bag for classes and headed out. I ran into Christina and shared my excitement by exclaiming, "I am in the best mood ever!" Christina laughed hysterically and continues to re-enact this moment I shared with her. I'm not usually a morning person so my chipper attitude starkly contradicted her usual perception of me as the "princess of darkness" with really bad bed hair and a grumpy frown every morning.

I went to classes, fully completed my paper, had dinner with Michelle and squeezed in a 20 minute nap in preparation for the evening. Katie, Drew, Zach, Evan, Erin and Kevin came over to start celebrating in 426. People made wonderful toasts, including Christina's cheersing the "two-one" and everyone making weird noises mocking my occasional tourettes. We had a lot of fun in my room. I love my friends. (Yea. Corny. Get over it. It was a special weekend.)

The clock was ticking closer to midnight. Kevin gave me frequent updates as we scurried to Kenmore T Stop. We boarded the T and Kevin informed me that it would be mere minutes until my 21st birthday. Michelle (I think) and others were telling people on the T that it was my birthday and everyone was getting excited. Strangers started counting down from 10 seconds. My blood was rushing. Here I was in the middle of Boston on a T at midnight with (most of) my favorite people helping me celebrate my birthday. The clock finally struck midnight and everyone started screaming "happy birthday." Strangers on the T sang the happy birthday song and the second I stepped off the T, Antonia, my birthday buddy and twin, called me to celebrate our birthdays. We all went to a club called Caprice and boogied for a solid two hours.

We got home at about two. One of my roommates (who, for reputation preservation, shall not be named) shared some intimate time with our toilet bowl. While I took off my dancing shoes and got on some jammies, Noelle fell asleep like a little Korean angel in my twin bed. Luckily, she positioned herself close enough to the wall to save room for me. I fell asleep within two minutes of laying down but was woken some hours later by an arm slamming into my face. I slept soundly until Noelle woke at five realizing she wasn't in her bed and left.

FRIDAY

I was in better shape Friday morning than anyone expected. People seemed disappointed I wasn't hung over on my birthday. One of the advisers at work gave me a gift of big chocolate and coconut truffle type things. They were amazing. At about two in the afternoon, my boss decided it was time to take me to the pub. We went to the Dugout with another guy I work with for a mid-afternoon beer.... A mid-afternoon pitcher of beer and a gigantic "shot" of Jagermeister that took four swigs to consume, to be precise. My boss even let me pick songs on the jukebox. I decided on some Creedence. Good Golly Miss Molly and Susie Q. It was a perfect way to start Friday's festivities.

As a birthday gift, I got to leave work early. I headed home, talked to everyone in my family for a while and got a surprise birthday visit with whom I had another beer. Having not eaten yet that day, I met Drew for lunch. He brought me to the BU Pub. On our way there, someone screamed happy birthday from across the street. I love my birthday. The pub was as magical as people say. It's in a castle and the inside is dark, somewhat medieval looking and cave-like. I got a ham and cheese sandwich and another beer. Life is a lot more enjoyable when you can go wherever you want without being kicked out or yelled at.

After the pub, Drew brought me home. I fell asleep within minutes. I already had a long day of drinking and I was pretty pooped. I forgot to set an alarm clock, which was somewhat problematic since we were supposed to go to dinner downtown. My roommates struggled to wake me up and we finally went to Sunset Cantina. We had to wait for a table for one hour. It was ridiculous. When we finally sat down we were all starving and delirious. People started pounding on the table hoping our food would come faster. Our waitress took all our orders slowly and then stated, "I don't think this will work. I can't even read my writing." We decided she was completely wasted.

Ali ordered me a 32 ounce strawberry margarita. It came in a bowl-shaped glass the size of my head. As I nursed the monstrosity, someone approached the table and grabbed my shoulder. It was Michael. He looked into my eyes and said, "Come with me. You're having a shot right now." I followed him to the bar where he ordered me a Bongwater (Jagermeister and some other fruity stuff.) I returned to my seat and enjoyed a delicious dinner. I was minding my own business, innocently chugging my margarita when all of a sudden people erupted into song and a giant slice of ice cream cake approached our table. I tried to blow out the candle but it was a trick candle that kept re-lighting. Our drunk waitress ripped my camera from the table and forced me to pose with the cake. Those were probably the most awkward pictures of the weekend. When the song ended, everyone at the table started screaming, "woo! woowoo! woo! woo!" The cake was orgasmic. While we feasted, Christina, in true Christina form, made a video in which she forced everyone to wish me a happy birthday. The video ended with a shot of Noelle's mouth as she screamed "woo! woo! woo!" while Christina screamed over her, "aaaaaand CUT!"

Following Sunset, we went to An Tua Nua, a bar on campus. This was somewhat disastrous. The bouncers let me and my friends in for free since it was my birthday but wouldn't let everyone in. We were all extremely frustrated. Michelle, Katie and I entered the bar and looked around. There was a crazy-dancing short man in a button-down shirt and dress pants sweating in the middle of a dance circle. I'm pretty positive he was on ecstasy or some equivalent. We went to the bar where Michelle bought me a Surfer on Acid (Jagermeister, Malibu, pineapple juice.) The theme of my birthday was definitely Jagermeister.

The three of us stood at the bar preparing to drink when some tall, scrawny, seemingly pre-pubescent young man approached us. He asked me what I was drinking and continued making pointless conversation. His moves were suspiciously similar to those taught by the Pick Up Artist on MTV. He bought me a beer and followed us around for the entire evening, apparently oblivious to our painfully obvious attempts at ditching him. He told the DJ it was my birthday, apparently. I didn't hear them say happy birthday, but he assured me they did. The strangeness of An Tua Nua evolved when a group of small Asian guys approached Katie, pointed at her toes (she was in sandals) and laughed. None of us understood what was happening. We left shortly thereafter.

SATURDAY

I slept in and relaxed in the room for the morning and afternoon. Drew came to pick me up for the evening's adventures. We went to his friend's apartment where we listened to Three Six Mafia (amongst other things) in preparation for the evening concert. We met Noelle, Evan, Michelle and Louis on Nickerson Field. We missed Cobra Starship but made it in time for Three Six Mafia. They took the stage and invited several eager, scantily clad collegiates to join them on stage. There was a "booty shaking contest" and a lot of arms flying to the beat. The first ten or fifteen minutes of their performance were pretty good but then the sound system gave in and almost every song thereafter was interrupted by the faulty equipment. The guys of Three Six Mafia grew very angry and frustrated screaming things like, "yall pay too much money to go to school here to have this shit happen." Eventually, one of them just gave up and said he couldn't stand it any more and they left.

Everyone left the field. Most people ended up at Chi Phi. As did the cops. Surprise, surprise. After being chased out by the cops, I met some people at T Anthony's for some pizza. I went home, went to bed and thus ended Saturday.

SUNDAY

Sunday was a day of rest. For the most part. Noelle and I hung out with Drew and other people at Chi Phi then got some food and walked home in the lovely weather. For the rest of the day, we watched movies and relaxed. Evan joined our night-in for a little while. The rest was much needed.

MONDAY

This was one of the longest day of my life. I got a text from Evan at 9:30 in the morning to wake me up for the marathon. He and I started the festivities in my room then headed out to watch the marathon. We met Noelle, Christina, Andrea and others by the marathon. We all went to someone's apartment where students were watching the marathon from the roof. This was extremely dangerous and we were all afraid Noelle was going to go flying off the roof so we didn't stay very long. We walked around for a while observing the hilarity of super healthy runners making their way across 26 miles of land contrasted to the completely obliterated college students screaming ridiculous things to encourage the runners. Aah, Marathon Monday.

Evan and I headed back to the dorm to meet Drew and eat some lunch then we all set out for the marathon again. We walked all over campus and eventually ended up at Chi Phi where one of the brothers was indulging in a short nap on the hood of a car. Inside the house, there was a huge water leak upstairs. As they tried to clean up the mess, two of the brothers got in a minor physical altercation that was resolved fifteen minutes later when we found them sitting in the sun on the porch chatting.

We all sat on the porch reflecting on the craziness of the weekend. Evan told us that he felt like a different person than who he was on Thursday. He and I headed to Sunset Cantina for dinner. Even though we were seated right away, our meal took over an hour to arrive. Sunset needs to work on their time management. When the food came, we were too tired to eat. We had the waitress pack everything up and brought it home. I'm pretty sure I had shin splints by the end of the day. We put on The L Word and Evan passed out on my floor after forcing Noelle to stroke his back.

My birthday weekend was, in-and-of-itself, one long marathon. Our years of training paid off and got most of us through the weekend unscathed. Katie broke her house key in the door, some people hugged some toilet bowls, some brain cells were damaged, most livers were damaged, many embarrassing pictures were taken but everyone made it through.

Thanks guys! Here's to another great year.