Archive for the ‘Out on the Town’ Category


My Weekend in Provincetown

July 29, 2008


This weekend, I took a trip to a place that caused me to vow never again to complain about the amount of gay men in the city of Boston, as I had found a placed that trumped it 10 times over. That place is a little beach town on the tip of Cape Cod called Provincetown. It’s adorable, ecclectic, fun, and populated by exactly 5 straight men, most of them married with children. 

I’m not complaining. I had a wonderful time. I just went to more gay clubs this weekend than I have in my entire life up until this point. (My favorite part: the playlists! Artists heard on our first night out included Janet, Paula Abdul, Madonna, the cats of Mamma Mia!, Rhianna, and of course, a Whitney medley!)  I guess I asked for it as I traveled there with four girls and four gay guys. The girls didn’t stand much of a chance. 

We headed out on Friday afternoon, taking the “fast ferry” to Provincetown, which we did not fully appreciate until we doubled our travel time on the way back by taking the “slow ferry.” 

We had a little too much fun jumping on the outer deck to see if we would move backwards on the boat as it moved forward and taking contemplative pictures in the setting sun. When we got into town, we quickly found dinner at a cute little restaurant, where the host offered to store my suitcase while we ate, but not before joking about stealing it and/or selling it to the highest bidder. Ah, small town charm. 

The next day, we walked out of our hotel to find this view while waiting for the shuttle to the beach: 

Needless to say, it was a welcomed change from city life. While at the beach, I managed to get myself into the water and give myself a wicked sunburn. (Damn you, lack of sunscreen! I’m still recovering.) My friends and I also managed to witness FISH MURDER! It started out innocently enough.

Oo, look! Pelicans! Cool! Aw, look at them swimming. Hey, they caught a fish! Nature is so cool. Wait…what is it…ew…ok, that pecking is mildly disturbing. OMG! HIS BEAK IS COVERED IN BLOOD! Did you see that? He just ripped the fish in two…and, wait, what is that bird doing? HE SWALLOWED IT WHOLE! Ah! I HATE NATURE!

Needless to say, I’m scarred for life and will now find the pelicans shounting “Mine!” in Finding Nemo horrifyingly terrifying. I will provide pictures (if anyone actually wants to see them) once my friends upload them onto facebook, but I’m sure the mental image painted above is enough. Despite this unfortunate act of nature, it proved to be a much more positive beach outing than my California beach outing. 

The rest of the weekend is a blur of eating way to much fried food, seeing far too many unattractive shirtless men, listening to endless amounts of dance music, and making a slew of new friends. All in all, it was a wonderful trip out of the city, but I’m always happy to be back in Boston. 


Traveling Troubles

July 7, 2008


I didn’t intend to spent my last moments in both New York City and Wilmington in tears, standing before some sort of transportation device. In fact, I intended to leave happy and refreshed. That was the whole point of getting away. The Universe, again, had different plans for me, and you know how well those plans usually play out. 

Let’s start with New York. When I last left you, I was on my way to the Big Apple, happily typing away thanks to the free Wi-Fi on Bolt Bus. Sadly, that bused turned out to be 2 hours late, an early warning of what was to come. I enjoyed a mildly stress-free weekend, meeting up with my camp friend, Lindsey, and my school roomie, Jillian, all while staying with my sister. We had some nice meals (I finally fulfilled my rib craving at Wild Wood on Park Ave. that I’d had since watching hours upon hours of “Thrill of the Grill” week on Food Network) and hit up some fun bars (I recommend Beauty Bar in the East Village: $5 drinks AND Eighties music? Sold!). My annoyance (and my later problems) began to arise, however, when my sister, Stephanie, decided to spend the night in Brooklyn instead of meeting Lindsey, Jillian, and I out on the town. Thus, I was left with her keys for the night. 

Sunday morning, I said good-bye to Lindsey and met Stephanie and my grand-parents (in town for a conference) for brunch with some acquaintances of theirs who are involved in theater. (The woman is actually now an anchor on The Onion News Network!) The brunch was nice, as I love chatting with theater people. I made a great contact, and they assured Stephanie and I that our money spent buying tickets to the matinee of “Sunday in the Park with George” was well spent. 

After brunch we headed out to see said production of “Sunday in the Park,” which, as it turns out, was the LAST performance of the show! I’d sung some of the songs before, but I’d never seen the whole show (apart from various scenes from the original with Bernadette Peters that aired on PBS), so I went in with an open mind, and I was not disappointed. I wish I could compel people to go see it, but obviously I can’t. It was one of the most unique productions I have ever seen: The whole show revolves around the French painter Georges Seurat painting “A Sunday afternoon on the island of La Grande Jatte,” and as he sketched on stage, his drawings and painting came alive behind him (using some new projection technology), creating both the painting and the setting of the show. It was, to say the least, magical. The performances were moving, and unexpectedly funny. Jenna Russell was amazing, and both she and Daniel Evans choked up during the final song, causing me and I’m sure the whole audience to choke up and then stand for the last five minutes of the show. The applause during the curtain call was deafening. It again made me realize how much I love theater.

But I digress…(I had to take a break from the flow of the story because the play was just that good.) when we left the theater, it was raining, causing Stephanie and I to scramble first to find a cab and then to give up and jump on the subway. (At this point I was done with subways, as Stephanie lives so far north, each time we returned to her apartment was an hour and fifteen minutes on the subway. Not. Fun.) I had to grab my bags from my grandparents and run to my bus. I, luckily,got there with time to spare, so Stephanie and my grandma said good-bye. As I stood waiting to board, flustered from the rush and feeling done with public transportation from all the subway riding, I noticed some people talking with a Bolt Bus employee about how their tickets had the wrong date on them, and they were thus having difficulty boarding the bus. It appeard to be some technical glitch with the Bolt Bus website. As I heard this, I glanced down at my ticket, just to be sure. Of course, my ticket too ahd the wrong date: the date I had come to New York not the date I was leaving. My heart dropped. I did not feel like dealing with what would happen if I missed this bus. I started to think that I would just book a ticket to my parent’s house, because this constant stress of crap happening to me was becoming too much to handle. I eased my way over to the group of angry patrons, hoping they had made enough headway that I could get on without problem. Things seemed to be heading in that direction, and then, my phone rang. 

I still had Stephanie’s keys. Not only her apartment keys so that she coudln’t get home, but her work keys, whose disappearance would cause her more than a little grief the next day. According to both my sister and my mom, I couldn’t get on the bus. At this point, I was more than annoyed. I had already been upset that Stephanie had basially abandoned me (and not for the first time) the night before, leaving me to get myself and Lindsey back to her apartment without her, but now I had to miss my bus, which I was already shaken up about the possibility of missing, to wait around for her to come get her keys.

On the phone with my mom trying to figure out how I was going to get home, as the group of disgruntled Bolt Bus riders boarded the bus, I started to cry. From exhaustion. From annoyance. From being overwhelmed at standing on a busy sidewalk of New York with a bright pink suitcase yelling at my mom that it wasn’t my fault Stephanie forgot to get her keys from me. The Bolt Bus woman came over to ask if I was getting on the  bus, and as I turned to her, face covered in tears, she must have thought I was getting news of a family member’s death. Her face changed, and she left me alone, feeling like an idiot. A crying idiot.I wasn’t worried that I wouldn’t get back, so much. I am just a person who doesn’t take a change of plans well. Added on top of everything else, this felt like a big deal. 

I dragged my bags four  blocks to Penn Station to buy a train ticket, where I resigned myself to the fact that I wasn’t getting into Boston until midnight and scarfed down some greasy pizza, waiting for Stephanie. When she got there, I tried not to take my anger out on her, as I greatly appreciated her waiting with me for the next hour for my train to come. I finally got on the train, calmed myself down, and fell asleep. Sadly, the train got in an hour and a half late, making it 2AM before I went to bed, allowing me only 5 hours of sleep before getting up for class at 7AM. Awesome. 

Trip number one: done. Status: much more tired than before. 

Up next: Train trips 2 and 3.


Loving and Hating…but mostly hating.

June 23, 2008


Loving: My Saturday night spent out on the town with my uncle. We started at an art opening, where I got to drink free alcohol (delicious Pinot Grigio) that wasn’t in red or plastic (or both) cup and rename art work with one of my favorite family members. Uncle D then took me to Rocca in the South End for a delicious and painfully filling Italian meal. Class level for the weekend: a perfect 10. 

Hating: My apartment. It’s dirty. There are bugs. There are dishes in the sink that I refuse to clean (hint: because they aren’t MINE!), plus, while I LOVE LOVE LOVE my roommate, it’s so hard to share a room with after sophomore year in college. 

Loving: That I’m heading to NYC on Friday. It’s seriously all that is getting me through my week. 

Hating: That I am having trouble saving up money to spend on myself in NYC because I am forced to buy trash bags, toilet paper, aluminum foil, and other random essentials for our apartment that no one else will buy. Plus paying all those stupid bills. Damn you, Comcast!

Loving: My political science class. It’s nice to be in a regular class again, especially one that is actually interesting. If anyone has any questions about the black/white achievement gap, the lack of women in science and engineering, bilingual education, or teacher pay, I’m your girl. 

Hating: The girl who chooses to sit directly in front of me in my Political Science class, despite the fact that there are only EIGHT people in the class, and thus ample numbers of seats that are not directly in front of me. Plus, she seems to not understand the concept of a start time to class, as she comes in EVERY DAY around 6 or 6:15, feigning embarrassment, despite the fact that class starts at 5:30. This shouldn’t bother me that much, but on top of everything else, it makes me want to punch her in the face. 

Loving: That they are making Rock Band for Wii.

Hating: That I cannot afford a Wii OR a rock band for the Wii. Or a Wii Fit, which looks totally awesome too. 

That last one is completely random, but really…they HAD to make Rock Band for Wii? Because I didn’t already want to spend all my nonexistent money buying a Wii and a Wii fit? 

Sorry to be such a downer lately. I’m just in that place where every little thing is driving me crazy to the point where I will punch anyone in the face who even looks at me on the T. For real. 

Deep breathes…ok….so NYC in four days. Visit to my parent’s in 10. I can last til then, right? Right. 

Oh, and in my annoyance, I’m hoping I didn’t start some kind of internet fight here. Oops.


Feelin’ Classy

June 21, 2008


Last night, Lynn and I headed out for a night on the town, aka dinner in the North End then a show at the Improv Asylum. I had been wanting to see a show there for three years, and with my new summer slash fall goal of doing all the things in Boston I’ve always wanted to do before I (possibly) leave come December, it seemed like a good time to go. Plus, I got special $10 tickets on Goldstar, so score!

Dinner was a delicious Italian meal (of course) of baked ziti followed by some torrone from Modern Pastry. The show at the IA was really good. High points were a lovely song and dance about assholes on the T (a subject I know all too well) and and an interview with a 38 year-old-scientist who is getting married in two weeks. It wasn’t as funny as the show I caught three years ago at Second City, (Damn you, Chicagoans and your mildly superior comedy troupes!) but good none the less. Lynn and I also fell in love with the tall-skinny actor with glasses, because that’s how we roll. We had a few down moments, mostly involving the drunk bitches next to us screaming out “SKETCHY GUYS” every time they asked for a prompt from another section of the audience. I really have no tolerance for drunken outbursts in public, unless it’s me, which really, it never is. 

We were supposed to head to our sorority sister’s going away party when we got back, but the thought of having to take another T ride into Allston at 11 and then possibly have to walk or cab back if we didn’t leave by 12:30 was not appealing, especially when the party may not even have been fun. I’m such an anti-college student in this respect. If I am not guaranteed to have a good time by putting in the effort to get dressed up and go out, I would rather put on pajamas and watch Friday Night Lights DVDs, which is exactly what we did.* And it was a fabulous end to the night. 

*I fear for what I would be like in a relationship because of this. Aren’t you supposed to want to go out and be crazy when you are single? And stay in and watch DVDs when you aren’t? I would NEVER leave my apartment after 10:30 if I had a boyfriend. For real. Maybe that’s why I never have one. It would just be bad for my social life.


Story Time

April 20, 2008


I have a few minutes before heading out to brunch slash final project meeting with my roommates, but I will tell these stories if it kills me!

Story #1: Thursday was a particularly long day at work where I may have almost fallen asleep several times at my desk. I dragged myself to class that night, sat down in front of my professor, ready to push through class. (Although, I do love my Thursday night class. All we do is sit around and talk about television.) Anyway, my professor says not to get too comfortable. We are going on a field trip across the street to see a taping of “The Soup”! (Yes, our classrooms are in the same building as E! We are also right next to The Weinstein Company offices.) So we packed up and headed across the street and into an E! studio. Behind us was the E! News Set (also the set of various scenes in Knocked Up) and in front of us was a giant green curtain, aka “The Soup” set. 

Now this is where I should pause and say that I am mildly obbsessed with “The Soup.” We have a series recording on our DVR, and my roommate who works at E! has basically stalked Joel McHale several times. This could not have been a cooler trip for us. 

Anyway, Joel came out and was adorable, as expected. The audience was very small and basically made up of friends of people who work at E! so we felt very exclusive. Joel came around and talked to the audience, and by some sweet miracle, I got to talk for our class. I made a slight fool of myself:

Joel: And how did you guys get in?

Me: I’m with my class, courtesy of Jason. 

Joel: Oh, yeah, the AV class.

Me: (a little condescendingly… unintentionally of course) TV Class.

Grace (whispering): That’s the same thing.

Me: Well, now I feel pretty stupid.

Joel laughs. I hang my head in shame. 

Watching the show tape was kind of surreal. It felt like a completely different place than what you see on television, and it was so interesting to see how he would try out a joke, see it didn’t work, meet with the writers, then come up with something so much better in two minutes. We tried to hear our laughter on the finished show, but alas, all we heard was the awesome stage manager yelling. 

This is probably not interesting to anyone but me, so I digress to…

Story #2: Thursday night was my friend Chrissie’s 21st birthday, so she got a table at Winston’s to celebrate. (Getting table service in LA has been a goal of mine so: check!) Anyway, Chrissie is kind of seeing Jeremy Piven’s assistant, and once we were a little tipsy, Chrissie got a text from him saying “I’ll be there soon. Jeremy might come.” We all paused to take a moment and think about how Jeremy Piven was probably coming to her 21st birthday party. I had flashes of my years of watching Cupid and Entourage, while Jillian basically fell to the floor. I put it out of my mind, thinking it wouldn’t happen, but came out of the bathroom some time later to find Jeremy hugging Chrissie and dancing with my friends! Sadly, by the time I got over there, my friends had already talked to him, and I didn’t want to be creepy and stalker like, so I simply danced by them and said nothing. Still…Jeremy Piven came to my friend’s birthday party! It was pretty exciting, for me personally. He was shorter than expected.

The rest of the weekend has been spent being tired, seeing “Saving Sarah Marshall” and then using that as an excuse to stay in and have a Judd Apatow movie marathon. (Very fun. I highly recommend it.) Tonight is a Passover Potluck that I fear will turn into me bringing my delicious brisket and everyone else bringing things like fruit and veggie platters and gefilte fish. Someone needs to bring an actual dinner dish. This is a concept lost on many college students. I’ll let you know how this goes.


A Glimpse of What’s to Come

April 18, 2008


I feel I’ve neglected you, dear blog! This week has been crazy ridiculous. I didn’t even twitter today. *GASP* A giant amazing post is forthcoming, but to give you a taste, it includes not only me going to a taping of “The Soup” (Joel McHale totally talked to me out of ALL the kids in my class. OMGZ FANGIRL SQUEEE….and I loathe myself….) but also Jeremy Piven coming to my friend’s 21st birthday party. For real. Oh, LA…

Oh, and while it’s on my mind, Jim and Pam make me drip loneliness. I literally threw a pillow across the room when he pulled out the ring, both out of a ridiculous amount of excitement for them (Yes, I am that invested in fictional characters), and out of my own self pity. Damn the lack of real Jim’s in the world. Damn.


Things I’ve Learned About Myself This Weekend

April 13, 2008


1. Two nights out a weekend is my limit: Thursday night I somehow spent all of my cash and lost my favorite jacket on the ride home. Friday night I went to a pretty exclusive club and had to fend off sketchy club guys all night. Not that either of these nights were not fun in their own special way, but by Saturday night, I had absolutely no desire to drink or leave my apartment ever again. SNL was the perfect entertainment, and you know what? It was free. Score. 

2. I am not a beach person: Saturday we ventured to Hermosa Beach. It was sunny and 85 degrees. Who wouldn’t want to be at the beach? Apparently, my body. After laying out for about an hour, I went to get up and find food with Grace. I made it about halfway up the beach before I started getting those black spots in my eyes that happen right before I pass out. I ran into the nearest bathroom to get out of the sun, but the second I came out, I literally couldn’t see Grace standing in front of me, and my head felt detached from the rest of me. I was forced to sit on the ground against the bathroom building, as there were no benches or other shaded areas around. Thanks beach planning committee! The rest of the afternoon, I couldn’t sit in the sun for more than 20 minutes without feeling nauseous. Luckily, this served as the perfect excuse to eat ice cream, as the shop was shaded and cold, and hey, I had to get my blood sugar up, right? It also gave me the perfect excuse to not go out Saturday night. Again, score. 

3. I want, nay, need gladiator sandals for this summer: My flip flops are no where near fancy enough to go out in, but my feet simply look too beautiful from my pedicure to wear regular shoes much longer. I’ve found these at Target:

They are $15 and thus, entirely practical. However, I’ve also found these and several others at Urban Outfitters:

Sadly, they are $145 and most decidedly impractical. There are also several pairs I’ve noticed at Steve Madden. Sadly, all are not as practical as the Target pair. 

I should learn how to be more practical. Maybe that will be a project for next weekend.