Infiltrating your earbuds starting...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The lowest lows, the highest highs.

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

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

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

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

Here is where our education began.

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

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

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

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

The Purple Pants on 70s day at high school:

The Purple Pants at Maria's Big Night Out:

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

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

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

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

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

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

Over and out.

Requests

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

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

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

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

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

1) Ask the guy how to use a machine.

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

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

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

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

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

Gyminy Cricket! Maria gets a membership.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dad: Did you talk to him?

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

Mom: Ask him what his zodiac sign is!

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

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

In ten hours I will be the happiest person alive.

All this Mountain Dew has rendered me speechless.



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



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

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

Countdown to Freedom: Maria’s Checklist

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

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

12/12: Office party (woo)

12/13: Secret Santa with 426

12/15: Cultural Anthropology final paper due

12/16: Conflict Res and Negotiation presentation

12/16: Conflict Res and Negotiation final exam

12/18: Cultural Anthropology final exam

12/19: Theories and Processes of Communication final exam

12/20: FLY HOME

The Last 24 Hours

Things I've done:

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

Conversations I've had:

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


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


Maria: EEEEPPP.
Ali: You make weird noises.

Countdown to Freedom: Maria’s Checklist

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

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

12/12: Office party (woo)

12/13: Secret Santa with 426

12/15: Cultural Anthropology final paper due

12/16: Conflict Res and Negotiation presentation

12/16: Conflict Res and Negotiation final exam

12/18: Cultural Anthropology final exam

12/19: Theories and Processes of Communication final exam

12/20: FLY HOME

Senior Hard Hat Party

Friday was one of the longest days of my life.

After work, Ali and I went to the senior reception. We were very excited for the StuVi 2 Hard Hat event. The new dorms won't be finished before we graduate so it was a way of giving us a sneak peak, even though the interior is not finished.

We walked over, were given hard hats and joined a huge crowd of seniors, who were dancing, decorating their hats, drinking and eating. We got a beer and mingled with friends and people we hadn't seen since freshman year.

The event was a lot more fun than I expected. It was great to see everyone and it was a really relaxing but fun way to get seniors together. AND we got to keep the hard hats. Sweet.



When the Hard Hat Party ended, the BU band showed up outside and played some rally songs. That experience was unusual since traditional school spirit is almost non-existant outside the hockey games. It was fantastic! A string of drummers ushered everyone down the street to the basketball game. We followed the music and then peeled off to get ready for Com Prom.


BU Band from Maria F on Vimeo.

Kings of Leon and Jello Shots

The Kings of Leon concert was AMAZING.

The show was at the Orpeum Theater. It was my first time there and my first time at a concert where people sit. A little strange.

My seat was next to two girls who ended up being awesome. One is a DJ for 92.9 WBOS. Her roommate works at Mass General. They were really friendly and had great stories. We all got giant beers and danced together as Kings of Leon went through their set list.





I am so happy I went. They played a lot of songs I love. Like Razz. Although they played it a little too slow. But that's ok. They sounded just as good, if not better, than on CD. They played Four Kicks, which was fantastic. If I could have requested one more it would have been Red Morning Light. Maybe next time.

Here's their new single.


After I got home, I prepared for our final Com Prom by mixing up four batches of jello shots.


JELLO SHOT RECIPE (from drinkstreet):

6 ounces Jello (large package)
16 ounces Water (boiling)
6 ounces Water (cold)
10 ounces Vodka


Mix the jello mix with the boiling water until the powder is fully dissolved and add the cold water and alcohol. Pour the cooling mixture into either shot glasses or paper cups. Shot glasses are more attractive, but drinker can turn the paper cups inside-out to more easily eat the alcoholic jello.

We still have a ton in the fridge. Apparently I made too many...

Great [Craigslist] Success!

This morning when I woke up to study for my anthro test, I decided to look one last time for a single Kings of Leon ticket being sold. I found one on Craigslist, e-mailed the seller and set up a pick-up time and location.

All day I was plagued with terrifying premonitions of my life ending in some cold, moldy basement in Brookline while some large, hairy man stood over me holding a meat cleaver, chuckling that I would be so stupid as to fall for his trick.

This is why I mass texted my friends with my whereabout and sent several Twitter notifications and tried to call my mom so I could talk to her while meeting this stranger... just in case.

Man did I feel stupid when the guy bashfully approached and handed me the ticket telling me how he couldn't go tonight because he'd be at the Patriots game. (I'll just ignore the extortion facilitated by Craigslist. Let's not talk about the price.)

Later my mom called and said, "I don't like that Princess Peanut! Never again!" The Dad Approval Rating of my actions would probably be somewhere around -27%.

BUT. I've wanted to see Kings of Leon for a very long time! And now I will!

Long Live Craigslist!

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?

Essential Driving Music: This is the jam.

My internship requires hours of blog surfing. I'm not kidding. Today I stumbled upon an interesting prompt; a reader asked one blogger, "If you had to choose 10 CDs to take on a cross country road trip what would you choose?"

Well. I love music. And I love road trips! Therefore this is a fantastic question.

I'm no stranger to long car trips. I make at least two a year (Boston to Michigan/wherever my parents live.) I also inherited my dad's passion for music so the two of us always travel with carefully crafted road trip CDs.

I'll answer this prompt in two parts: 10 CDs + 1 sample car playlist. Test some of the songs/videos. Tell me what you think.

10 CDS I WOULD TAKE ROAD TRIPPING:

1. Creedence Clearwater, Chronicle: Creedence is perfect travel music. In fact, Creedence is perfect any time music. Songs like Run Through The Jungle and Green River mirror the adventurous atmosphere inevitably accompanying road trips. Chronicle provides a healthy balance of songs you love to sing and songs you listen to as you silently stare at the sunset contemplating the life of a nomad. My only complaint is the absence of Good Golly Miss Molly. But that song alone wouldn't warrant bringing Chronicle Volume Two. I'll just listen when I get home.
2. Streetlight Manifesto, Everything Goes Numb: Every fast-paced song tells a story for you to scream along to. Each is exciting and addicting. Sing along, lose your breath and journey on.
3. RX Bandits, ... And the Battle Begun: This CD is simply epipc. It took longer than expected to grow on me but I would never travel without it. I could listen to this CD on repeat for weeks without getting sick of it. The anticipation and excitement felt when some of these songs being is essential when on a long road trip.
   
4. Kings of Leon, Aha Shake Heartbreak: Fantastic CD. Fantastic band. Wrote enough earlier.
5. Celebration, Celebration: This was my best at-a-concert discovery. I've seen them open for two bands in Boston and found their CD at a secondhand shop after seeing them. Celebration is on every Worcester playlist I make. I get lost in her songs. My favorite is Tonight. Of course I couldn't find it. So here's New Skin.
   
6. Blood Brothers, Burn Piano Island Burn: Perfect if traveling alone or with Joe (or someone else who would tolerate it.) Would not play this with mom or dad in the car for fear of inducing heart attacks. When alone, I often scream along with the singer's high pitched yells. Ideally I'd combine my favorite songs of theirs to make one perfect CD. (I have already created one such playlist.)
7. Common, Finding Forever: To lighten things up a little. Something to sooth my throat and get me swaying instead of thrashing around.
8. Outkast, Stankonia: Because I'd need something a little darker. Spaghetti Junction is one of my favorites on this one.
9. Pearl Jam, Greatest Hits: A throwback. At this point I will just want to sing to something a little more standard.
10. Ministry of Sound, Clubbers Guide Summer 2006: Go on. Judge me. But after hours of driving this long, you too would require a good dose of clubbing music. Blast this, break the speed limit, put on cruise control and take out the glow sticks.
    

15 SONGS FREQUENTLY PLAYING WHEN I DRIVE*:

*These are only some of my favorite driving songs. Playlist.com was missing essentials by ACDC, Rush, Johnny Winter and more.

As you can see, I have a problem.

Have you heard that song Webbie made for me?

Mom: This might be our last Christmas together.
Maria: Pssh. You guys will still buy me flights home after I graduate.
Dad: HAH! I don't think so. You'll be on your own. Can you spell "independent?"
Maria: Please, old man. I spell that every pre-game.




Independent by Webbie
Lyrics (the important ones)


I N D E P E N D E N T Do You Know What That Mean Man [X2]
She Got Her Own House
She Got Her Own Car
Two Jobs Work Hard U A Bad Broad

She'll Buy Her Own I Dont Think She 'll Never Look
In A Man Face Standin Waitin For Him To Take Care Of Her
She'll Rather Go To Work And Pay The Bills On Schedule

A Independent Chick Do U Kno Wat That Mean
She Cook She Clean Never Smell Like Onion Rings

The Kings of Leon are smokin

AAAHH!! I am trapped by the hypnotizing powers of YouTube!!!

Earlier I was listening to a Kings of Leon song (Soft) that I for some reason decided I wanted to hear live. Well, that was pretty much a death trap. Two hours later I still can’t stop. I watch these videos and literally scream. Yes scream. Alone in my room in my pajamas. You'd think I was actually at the concert. I can feel the energy even through the computer screen. Maybe its because whenever I play that game, “if you could be anything in the world what would it be,” with Noelle, I inevitably always pick a tattooed male who’s a kick ass drummer. You laugh. But I’m dead serious. Blame Michael Victor. He passed on the passion. Anyways. That won’t happen any time soon so I’ll just remain an obsessive, insatiable fan.

I got a Black Crowes CD and a Hot Tuna CD from Nuggets (the local used CD/records/old stuff store) this weekend. I’ve been listening to a lot of older stuff lately. Especially Creedence. Kings of Leon just popped into my head today though. They are the essential modern-day rock band (with a little country influence). They have songs about love, hate, revenge, friendship, parties... The guys in the band are all family members (three brothers and a cousin) from Tennessee. They change their hair cuts more that most BU girls. They are skinny boys in tight pants. They apparently play as well (if not better) live as they do on a CD. Hopefully I’ll find out for myself sometime soon.

Until then, I'll continue watching these videos on repeat:

The drummer is amazing. Especially in this video.

The Bucket

...and in this one. The "T in the Park 2007" videos are all pretty well done. I like the scenery shots with all the different flags and views of London.

Slow Night So Long

This is one of my favorite of the live videos and one of my favorite songs on the newer CD.

On Call

This video is a little older but it's one of my favorite songs of theirs. The singer gargles the lyrics at some points but it's still a good video.

Red Morning Light

This is the most played song of theirs on my iTunes. And the singer looks dreamy in the video. I could never resist a bearded guy in flannel.

Razz

...

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.

Fenk you very much...

I usually hate awards shows. The Golden Globes. The Emmys. It's all a bunch of nonsense. Really, they're just bad excuses for everyone try to one-up each other by wearing something disgusting or gaudy that will get them in the headlines.

There's a special place in my heart for the Grammys, though. I love the live performances and the snide remarks people (Usher) spit out after too many drinks. I'm not sure who Miley Cyrus is but she is clearly terrified of Cyndi Lauper, who looked like she just walked off the set of Hocus Pocus. The best performance of the evening was clearly Tina Turner and Beyonce doing Proud Mary. Tina Turner is the shit. Nearing 70 and she still strutted out there in a skin tight, silver, spandex outfit belting out those lyrics like she was 20. There's more life in that woman than Amy Winehouse, who hardly realized she was performing let alone that she'd won record of the year. I would love to know what passed her septum before her performance. She truly is an icon of our time, though. Noelle and I were on the edge of our seats watching Winehouse hug her band, betting on when her gigantic hair-piece would go tumbling to the floor.

Me: Someone's going to knock that piece right off her head and I'm going to laugh hysterically.
Noelle: I bet she's hiding bags of cocaine under there.

Her acceptance speech will live on in our hearts. Especially her touching shout-out to her "Blake, incarcerated."

I need to go practice my dance routine to Proud Mary now. Halloween 2009: Maria and Noelle as Tina and Beyonce. Silver and all.







PROUD MARY

AMY WINEHOUSE

Kate Nash is a raging tuba.

What's with this recent surge of whiny British girls all over MTV? Amy Winehouse, despite her missing teeth, drug addiction and dirty Cockney accent is one thing. Her voice is great and her lyrics are clever and interesting. Lily Allen is pushing it. Some of her songs are tolerable (as opposed to her latest music video which should have never even aired. No one wants to spend 3 minutes of their lives watching a cartoon character try to seduce a bunch of guys in a bar.) Kate Nash is just awful. I couldn't care less about her relationship problems. I don't blame her boyfriend for thinking she's boring and annoying. Her lyrics reflect her personality, apparently. I haven't looked into her biographical information, but it sounds like an angry high-schooler wrote her newest song, Foundations. For example:

You've gone and got sick on my trainers, I only got these Yesterday. Oh my gosh, I cannot be bothered with this.

Seriously? Please. Dump his ass and get on with your life for everyone's sake. Get her off MTV. I want to see more Lady Sovereign.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6btkVat_oQc