My, how we've grown.

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.

Maria Goes to Long Island

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.

Erin's the BEST Secret Santa Evarrr

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

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

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

I cracked up.

She also gave me the following awesome gifts:



The Aries glass reads:

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

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

Countdown to Freedom: Maria's Checklist

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

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

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.

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!"

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.