Viva Mexico!

    I'm currently packing for my first ever trip to Cancun and I'm freaking out. Of course I'm freaking out. I haven't purchased a bathing suit since high school (I've been locked away in a cubicle most summers) and I had to borrow one from my roommate. My co-worker asked me if I was going to shack up with a local and I was like, "Do I really look that desparate for an escape?" She just raised her eyebrows at me. Ok, maybe I do really need to get out of here.

    My mom bought tickets for my sister and I as a surprise, kind of like  throwback to the vacations we would take when we were kids. For months at a time I wouldn't see my mom, only an endless string of babysitters, mostly family and neighbors who I was always around anyway. My single mom worked long hours at the expense of watching us grow up, something she still feels guilty about today. She would surprise us with tickets to Disneyworld or a cruise to Bermuda, where the three of us, Momma, Steph and I, would lounge on the beach all day, tour the island, and then watch old movies in our cabin, all our tanned toes wriggling together as we snuggled to get close.

    I hope this weekend is like that. Since remarrying and having another child, our relationship has been a little strained. My sister and I both moved out of the house once Momma and Michael got more serious. I'm finally old enough now to let it go and want her to be happy, but at the time it just felt like she was choosing. Choosing wrong. Choosing him.
    So I lived with my boyfriend, and Steph lived with my aunt, and we orbited around the house in shifts. Michael is usually out on weekends at the hardware store or visiting his own adult kids, and we both stop by the house where we grew up and pretend like everything is the same. It's not really though. It doesn't quite feel like home anymore. They retiled the kitchen floor, painted the walls a dusty eggplant color, got a huge flat screen TV in the den. We never had cable growing up. It's strange to watch my baby sister learn things from cartoons with values. I mean, they're better than shows like Sponge Bob and everything, but still, I learned my colors from real people.

    Stephanie closed on her house this morning. She and Chris have been together for almost 6 years now and they just bought a huge split level sitting on 2 acres or so in a town close to where we all grew up. My mom put a banner up, "Welcome Home Stephanie and Chris!" It's been really emotional. I can't believe how grown up she is, at 24 she's decades ahead of where I'll be at that age. It's kind of bittersweet, knowing that we'll never all really be together again, but knowing that everyone is starting new families and new lives. A new generation will be brought up in that house. They're set for a fall wedding, I'll be in the wedding party but am too irresponsible to be considered for maid of honor. I would probably forget the date of the wedding and make party favors out of Twinkies.

    So I'm going to get back to packing and relaxing and thinking about how great it will feel to be one third of that little family again. Steph told me recently that once she and Chris get married, I'm going to be the last one with our family name. I don't know what she meant by that, but it gave me an overwhelming sense of lonliness. I thought of my boyfriend, his scruffy unshaven face, his menial job and bad temper, his inability to prepare for anything. He's the perfect mirror of me. Would we ever be able to plan for a future together? Is there even a point? I'm spending my weekend with some old married gals so I'll ask them their opinions.

A List of Things that I Love Most in This World

Just a little overview of things that make me tick. Or, stop ticking. Pick one.

Free Samples

Emanuel Ungaro

White Cotton sheets

Kids with sticky jam hands

Free Iced Coffee Day at Dunkin Donuts

Maybelline Great Lash Mascara

The $1-Wine Bin at my local liquor store

Boys with Boston accents

Indie Concerts

Denim Leggins

www.gofugyourself.com

www.postsecret.com

The view over Makeout Hill in my hometown

Living in the city

Still being able to call my mom daily

Getting a seat on the train!

Getting my dad's season tickets at Fenway, 3rd baseline

Survivor/The Office Thursdays with my roommates

Finding passive aggressive notes

Listening to other people's conversations

Making playlists according to objects: Trashy Bangs, Chamomile, Leather Boots, Disco Glitter

Sifting through the pile of laundry on my floor

Buying MORE clothes to add to the pile

Getting my hands on a really good memoir

Stump Trivia at the bar

Indian food

Scattegories while invoking the comma rule: Iverson, Allen counts for I!!

Writing my boyfriend notes and stuffing them in his jeans pockets

My sister's knock knock jokes

My sister's 'tag' rules

Basically anything my sister does

Sauteed onions

A really good massage

Rearraging the furniture all the time

Making inane lists

and...did I mention free samples? :)

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101 New Ways to Alienate Your Audience

    Cosmopolitan magazine, I have HAD it with your antics. Stop telling me about how I can get the tightest vagina ever, or how I can meet a man by 'dropping a pencil' or about how the Most Embarassing Moment happened when it's painfully clear that your employees, or worse, interns, are making the tales up as they go along. How do I know this? The only people who take your magazine seriously are 14 year old girls. I was once that 14 year old girl, buying Cosmo with my babysitting money, and going straight for the list of sex tips. Should my crush ask me to the movies one day I wanted my kiss to be perfect. I only had so much time before my mom would come to pick us up anyway.

    My best friend and I have taken to shouting out Cosmo sex tips during Cigarette and Wine Hour in the kitchen. It's kind of like that old game, Balderdash, where you're supposed to convince the other person that you're telling the truth.

"Rub his nipples with ice cubes!" Katie shrieks and giggles.

"Eat a powdered donut off of his erect member. The sweet sight will be enough to get him rising every morning!"

"Bullshit, Jenn. Ok...Slather honey on his eyelids and lick it off slowly."

"That's really unhygenic. I call bullshit."

"Nope, that's one that I actually read."

"Ok. Fine. Experiment with textures. Next time you're in the bedroom, bring champagned, a strong mint, and a cup of warm tea."

"That's alot of preparation..."

"I'm not finished Katie. Ahem. Sip the champagne before going down on him, then alternate holding him in your mouth with the mint. He'll tingle all over!

"That's crap."

"No, that one's true."

"I'm about to win. Ready?"

"Sure." I take a long drag on my cigarette and look for signs that she's about to crack. Her face turns serious.

"Next time you're making love, right before your man climaxes, sprinkle a little pepper under his nose so that he sneezes at the same time. The feelings are similar and the simultaneous release will drive him over the egde."

"Oh my god."

"Well?"

"...bullshit."

"Nope. That's real. I threw the magazine away on principle."

"Do these people think we're doing it with Foghorn Leghorn? What the HELL? Get some pepper and make him sneeze?"

"I know! Can you imagine being like...in the throws of passion and going, Oh, excuse me a minute honey!"

"Right and then sprinkling seasoning on his face! He would throw you on the ground and never call you again. That totally insane. That's not even kinky that's just weird and pointless."

"Tell me about it."

    So keep in mind next time Cosmo is telling you to 'cradle his balls like a baby bird' (Uh...ew) or 'lightly graze his scrotum with your teeth' (WHAT?) they have no idea what they're talking about, and you're probably better off communicating with your partner about what gets him off, and what is absolutely, unconditionally off limits. I vote no hot peppers near the genitals, but hey, that's just my opinion.

On Friendship, Limousines and the Pitfalls of Wine

    This Friday night started out as something really, really great. I consider myself to be a pretty decent friend and I tend to splurge on silly gifts as often and needlessly as I can, so when a birthday rolls around, I go all out. Sara Bareilles and Tony Lucca kicked of their tour last month, and I bought tickets for Friday 2/20 when they came to my neighborhood. It was my friend Jen's twenty second birthday, and I knew she would love to see them live. Twenty two isn't an easy year, as far as I'm concerned, and I'm not a Biology major at an Ivy League school like she is. Needless to say, she's been stressed, this being her senior year, and needed a break.     

    I started setting up early, around 7pm, before the show so we could unwind a little. Two bottles of wine, sushi takeout, some fabulous outfits later and we were ready to go. We got to the venue a little late due to the wine and fabulous outfits (these things take time) but we showed up in time to see the end of Tony's set and certainly in time to scream our heads off before Sara got on stage. If you have a chance to see her live, DO IT. The tickets were inexpensive ($15 at the door but I bought them for $25 from a private vendor after they sold out) and the show was one of the best I've seen in a long time.

    I like artists like her, she does all her own music and her voice is really powerful. She can play the piano and guitar like a son-of-a-bitch but doesn't put on airs about it. She connected really well with the crowd, was joking and laughing the whole time, and really put on a great show. We had a great time, which was well enhanced with the vodka tonics I was buying for us.

    After the show, we had plans to meet up with my very posh friend Ashley who lives downtown and head to a hotel bar opening, and somehow we ended up in a limo. I say somehow, because I cannot for the life of me recall how we garnered this VIP status. Maybe it was the fake eyelashes. Who knows? So we three are cruising around, passing around a buffalo chicken sub (sidebar: where did THAT come from?) and giggling. We made a quick stop at the bar, and then headed back to my apartment in the limo. I took to calling the driver Gaston so its really surprising that he didn't leave me on the side of the road.

    Back at my apartment, we had what I like calling "Cigarette and Wine Hour" which generally occurs on any day of the week, between 2am and 5am, in my kitchen in a cloud of smoke. The heels were kicked under the table, the lipgloss was all kinds of smudged off, and Ashley was telling a hilarious story about a couple whom she was showing a penthouse apartment to, who ended up being less than respectable, non-clothes wearing,  sex-having-while-you're-touring-high-rise -apartment type of people. Anyways...who should come down from his bedroom to join Cigarette and Wine hour but my dashing, pre-law, extremely drunk roommate (who I have a recent history with, and its quite an awkward living situation. Don't get me started).

    So he sits down with us and starts regaling Jen with his tales of the LSAT (how impressive!) and serving tables (how taxing!) and drinking (how unique!) and she, in a complete about face from being my very best friend and a decent human being, starts pulling her top little by little and flashing him Sex Eyes. And I know what Sex Eyes are because I flash them at Hott Door Man Chris everytime I leave Ashley's building, and basically anybody who buys me a drink. I am no stranger to Sex Eyes. I nudged her a bit when he got up to use the bathroom, no doubt to psyche himself up in the mirror, and said, "What are you doing?" and she basically pretended that drinking wine causes you to lose your auditory senses. Turns out it just causes you to lose your underwear and your best friend, natch.

    True to form, I soon went to my room to pass out, and told Jen she could sleep in my roommate Katie's bed since she was out for the night. Fast forward about six hours when I hear someone creeping down the stairs. I thought, "That's weird, what's Matt doing up this early?" and then my bedroom door opened. Jen. Shirt on backwards. Eye makeup quite smudged.

"Where did you sleep last night?"

"Uh, on a couch?"

"Is that a question?"

"No, I slept on the couch. I think I threw up in my hair."

"Classy. Why were you upstairs, I thought you were going to sleep in Katie's room."

"Oh, no, we were just drinking upstairs and I uh, fell asleep."

    I cocked an eyebrow at her and she looked down, and started shuffling through her overnight bag.

"Are you taking off?"

"Yeah, I have to get out of here, I'm getting breakfast with my family."

"Oh...Ok? Well see ya later then. Thanks for coming out last night, it was really fun!"

"Yeah, yeah it was. Thanks for the tickets and...everything."

"No problem. Happy Birthday sweetie!"

    She left minutes later, and I went back to bed. For some reason that I could not understand, Matt kept walking into my room with this pained expression on his face and waking me up.

"Dude, what do you WANT?"

"Sorry sweetie, I was just seeing if you were up yet." (read: seeing if you know that I banged your best friend yet, and gauging just how pissed you are at me)

"Well, no, I'm not up yet. Anything else?"

"Nope!"

    Later in the day, I was cleaning up the kitchen and cooking lunch when my other roomate Aaron comes into the kitchen. "Hey girl! So, did you have fun last night?"

"Yeah the show was great, you would have loved it."

"Oh I bet, her voice is so great. So hey aren't you pissed that Matt screwed your friend?"

    Spoon falls to the floor, I blink and swallow loudly."What?"

    "Yeah Matt and your friend were f*cking like bunnies last night. So loud."

    "Wha...WHAT?! ARE YOU SURE?" Aaron's face fell a bit and he looked at me quizically. 

    "You didn't know? Oh shit was I not supposed to say anything?"

    "No, you were DEFINITELY supposed to say something. I gotta go." I ran out of the room to text something furious to Jen. A couple of drafts and some colorful language later, I settled on simply : YOU HAD SEX WITH MATT?! WTF JEN? to which she responded I'M OUT TO DINNER WITH BILLY, I'LL CALL YOU LATER.

    I have not received a phone call or a text back from her, and I had a very angry run in with Matt earlier today when I was rage-cleaning the kitchen. I'm talking crazy stuff, I cleaned the radiator. WHILE IT WAS ON. It took a while. I took all the shelves and drawers out of the fridge and scrubbed those as well, organized all the cabinets, and was in the process of making a literal vat of iced coffee when he walked in.

    "Hey sweetie,"

    "What's up, douche bag?"

    "What did you say?

    "What's up."

    "Nothing. Wow the kitchen looks great."

    "Yeah, thanks. Did you want some of this coffee or did you want to f*ck my best friend?"

    "Whoa, why are you mad?"

    "Are you kidding me? Come on, you're a smart guy, you can figure it out."

    "I didn't know your friends were off limits or something! God I'm sorry! Don't be mad at me."

    "That's the ONLY RULE THERE IS. Don't sleep with my friends. Are you touched? Are you okay? You're either a f*cking idiot or a really good liar."

    "No, seriously, don't be mad at me."

    "Get away from me."

    "Let's have dinner tonight."

    "Get away from me. You're out."

    "What do you mean I'm out?" 

    "You're out. I'm not going to be mad and fighting with you about this because there is clearly no friendship worth saving between us, so you're officially out. I take it very seriously when people disrespect me and you've crossed the line. So has she. You're out. Get out douche bag." I didn't say, but should have, 'Eat a bag of dicks while you're at it,'

   So it's Sunday, the offending tryst transpired Friday night, and I still have received nothing in the way of apology or explanation from my friend. So looks like she's out too. My bubble of people I trust has closed out two more people, and that genuinley sucks. I'm in a funk today, not to mention I have the flu and am now stuck to wandering around the house in my PJs sniffling, looking like a loser, and avoiding him. Why, why, WHY did I ever think it ok to sleep with my roommate? Sure it's convenient and all, distance wise, but in the long run, I'd rather have Cigarette and Wine Hour with a bunch of stilettos that will look hott and still manage to avoid betraying me.

Don't Talk to People on Public Transit

 So, my train ride was total hell the other morning. I couldn't find a pole to support myself, and I was so dehydrated and dizzy I almost just crumpled right on the dirty floor. Note to self: stop drinking on weeknights. Good news came when I got to Park Street because I got a seat straight away. Just as I settled in to read a book that I stole from Katie, some child squeezed in next to me and started hitting on me. I know. He was absolutely convinced of his gangster, but I wasn't fooled. He was clearly a skinny, white child, and he was hilarious. This is our conversation. I may have lied alot.

Child: How you doin?

Me: Uhm...fine. And you?

C: Yeahhh

M: Oh...

C: Yo what's your name?

M: I'm Jenn

C: Yeahh

M: Yes.

C: Yo where you from?

M: I live in Allston.

C: You have fun out there?

M: Uhm, yeah sure, I mean...it's okay.

C: Where you goin noww?

M: I'm going to work.

C: Yeahh

M: Yes.

C: You go to school?

M: No...I'm going to work.

C: Yeahh

M: Yes.

C: Where you work at?

M: At a bank, downtown.

C: That's what's up.

M: Yeah it's a real bowl of cherries.

C: Huh?

M: It's...Nevermind.

C: Yo you funny! You real beautiful mumble mumble (unintelligible)

M: Uhm, what?

C: You real beautiful.

M: Oh, thanks.

C: What do you do for fun?

M: What? I don't know.

C: You like TV?

M: Yeah I guess so.

C: What you like to watch?

M: The news.

C: Yeahh

M: Yep.

C: See me?

M: Of course I see you.

C: Nah. See me, I do music.

M: I don't know what you're trying to tell me.

C: I do music.

M: Okay.

C: I do like...rap. Rock, rap. Mostly rap, though.

M: Cool.

C: What kind of music you like?

M: Thrasher. Country, sometimes.

C: You get down with that?

M: Yes.

C: Yeahhh

M: Yes...?

C: How old are you?

M: 24

C:What?! I thought you was like 20!

M: Nope.

C: Guess how old I am.

M: I don't like games.

C: Oh nah girl, I don't play games neither. Just guess.

M: Ok...14.

C: HAH now you playin.

M: I guess so.

C: I'm 20.

M: Wow.

C: Yeahhh

M: Mmhmm, wow.

C: What do you like to do for fun?

M: I don't know, I just work alot and then go home and decorate the nursery.

C: Oh you got a kid?

M: Not yet.

C:  When are you getting a kid?

M: I'm due in July.

C: Yeahh

M: Yep.

C: You got a man?

M: Yes.

C: You like to party?

M: Well, I'm pregnant, so no. But I'm sure partying is fun.

C: Am I botherin you?

M: Uh, no. It's cool.

C: You do your nails yourself?

M: Wha...Oh. No, my sister did them.

C: Oh is she a artist? I'm a artist too.

M: She's three.

C: Oh. You got a number or something?

M: Oh, no I'm not supposed to use cell phones.

C: Huh? Why not?

M: The waves that come out of them are harmful to the baby. Like radiation.

C: No SHIT! Are they humfa to me too?

M: Probably. I just found out about it. If you have a cell phone near me I'll get radiation poisoning. It only happens when you're pregnant though, like gestational diabetes. And weight gain.

C: What?

M: Sometimes people get diseases when they're pregnant and then they go away.

C: Are you okay?

M: Yeah, I mean I'm a little light-headed. Hey, do you have a cell phone in your pocket?

C: Yeah. Right here.

M: Could you move it to the other side?

C: Yo man I'm sorry!

M: Don't worry about it. Well this is my stop, it was nice meeting you.

C: You too, good luck with the kid.

M: Yeahhh.

End Scene.

Gosh if I hadn't been in such a rush to get to work I probably would have stayed on the train just to talk to this kid. I want to take him somewhere and study him.