If it's not Windex...

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



For the record:

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

When Thanksgiving bites back.

Thanksgiving Feast #1: Devoured with great success.

Tara decided it would be mandatory to host a Thanksgiving party in our room. She organized it. I helped.

Long live Team Taria.



I lobbied to enforce a strict "Pilgrim or Indian" dress code but the only one who complied was Meesh. (Who was lovingly referred to as a "NavaHO" for the rest of the night.)



The initial thought of 20 people in our tiny apartment was a little daunting but the preparation was fun. We were a little worried there wouldn't be enough food but ALAS! We have a fridge full of delicious Thanksgiving leftovers. Including but not limited to:

The remainder of the divine 20 lb turkey Brian carved after Noelle cooked:



... and delivered atop a shopping cart contraption:



Delicious ricotta stuffed shells thanks to my mom's recipe and my mad cooking $killz:





Heath Bar/Pudding/Cake Mass of Heaven (that I've been told I have to recreate when I get home):




While standing at our massive buffet of scrumptious food...



... Noelle and I both eyed the corn bowl.

Noelle: Wellp. Everyone'll be seeing that later tonight.

The wine was fantastic. The food was fantastic. The company was fantastic. And in true Family-Holiday-Gathering form, the night ended in injury.

I stood in the kitchen frantically washing the growing pile of dirty dishes. Reached for the aluminum can opener Tara used for the cranberry sauce. Tried to quickly scrub it with a sponge. Instead sliced open my thumb and watched as the blood poured. I left it under water watching the red fall into the drain while repeating Tara's name until she came over, dialled her mom and announced my injury.

Christina sprung to my rescue.

Christina: Girl. Sit down.
Maria: I'm fine.
Christina: GIRL. SIT. Elevate your hand and press this towel against it.

For a second I thought I'd lose my thumb. But I just ended up with this little cut. Which is a lot more badass in real life.





So glad I'll have a scar to remember our first ever Big Girl Party!

Straight but supportive: Protesting Proposition 8

On Saturday, November 15th, roughly 7,000 people gathered ouside Boston's City Hall to protest Proposition 8 and support civil rights. I am proud to say that my roommate, Tara, and I were in the crowd.

We were overwhelmed by the amount of people who showed up, despite the threat of bad weather. The protest lasted about three hours. Though we didn't stay for the entire thing, we saw many passionate speakers. Politicians including US Representatives Mike Capuano, Nikki Tsongas and Edward Markey were greeted by deafening cheers and pumping fists.

... Civil Rights Now

... Hosted by Join The Impact. The people standing on the ledge were eventually escorted by the police.

... The crowd was diverse, not just young liberals. Not just gays.

... Jesus Had Two Daddies.

... Interracial Marriage: 1967. Gay Marriage: ?

... Can I Vote On Your Marriage?

... Equal Rights For: Women (check), Blacks (check), Gays (...)

... Boston Proposition 8 Protest.

I'm a failure.

Ok so my experiment with lucid dreaming didn't go quite as planned. I didn't even come to the conclusion that I was dreaming in the dream. It was like any other dream. I did remember it though and it was a little creepy.

Brief synopsis of the creepiest part:
My dad and I were on Comm Ave in front of Sicilia's and a vehicle backed into his legs causing him to fall to the floor in immense pain at which point I called the police who took forever to arrive. I was extremely worried about the result this accident would have on his hockey career. I thought he was doomed forever and became sad but then my dad stood up, said he was fine and forced me to get into our car. He sped off and I yelled at him for speeding and he told me to shut up because I'm always yelling about nothing. We drove for a while through hilly terrain swerving between strange houses and tombstones.

The creepiest thing about the dream is that last night my boss, who encouraged me to try this lucid dreaming business, had a dream with his mother in it and she slipped and was injured. After her injury, she yelled at him for going too fast while running on the ice. I know it's not quite the same thing... but it's similar enough to have creeped me out. I feel like our dream worlds are strangely connected. Or were last night. It makes me wonder who else's dreams mine relate to. What affect do we have on dreams other than our own? Do we have an affect at all?

Some people are connected spiritually somehow. They must be. For example, Tara and I have a strange connection. Weird things often happen with our lives that we notice when discussing them in detail. The strongest connection seems to be found in our love lives. They are rarely both good at the same time. We are rarely both happy with whatever situation we are in. When one has good luck, the other tends to have bad. We have weird dreams about each other that seem to tell a lot about whatever situation is going on at the time. The strangest thing to happen was probably about a summer ago. I forget exactly what happened but she was in Connecticut and I in Indiana and something bad happened to her and I had a dream that night about how she was crying hysterically. I woke up in a terrible mood and found out later she was having a rough time. Maybe we're twins!!! Or maybe I'm just making it up. I can never tell.