Fun Between Finals

That time is upon us. Or at least me. And some of my fellow bloggers currently suffering through engaged in the process of higher learning. L. and I like to fight about who has it worse--me, being an English major with a pre-law concentration, having no real exams (except for my Con Law final...curse you Prof C.) but a million (okay, seven) papers, or L. having no papers but four big, fat, ugly science exams. I personally think the boy has it a little worse, but that's just because paper-writing is my greatest skill in life, and the idea of upper-level chemistry exams is about as appealing to me as getting hydrochloric acid poured all over me. (I tried to stay with the Chem imagery. Clearly.)

Now that I've handed off another collection of Michelle's Prattlings on Con Law (in this case, whether legislators and judges belong on our bedrooms and hospital rooms) to Prof C today, I have an approximately two-day break before my next doozie is due: a ten-pager on a Renaissance play. And no, friends, it's not Shakespeare. Cause that would be easy.

I'd like to try to have some fun in this gorgeous weather in between these two bookends of doom, aka final papers. Tonight is C.'s final a cappella concert of the year (and if you're wondering if all my friends sing a cappella...well, the answer is pretty much yes. It's kind of a big deal here at Williams). L. is also doing some singing this weekend--he's involved in a musical theatre revue that opened last night called "Moving Too Fast" about the joys of childhood and the pains of growing up. It was actually quite good--there were songs from You're a Good Man Charlie Brown, Spring Awakening, Wicked, Hair, A Chorus Line, and some other great shows. So when L.'s not busy "dancing through life" (anyone get the reference? That's the song he sings in the show), I'm hoping we can sleep in tomorrow, go to a bbq, and maybe bring a blanket outside to do all our end-of-the-semester work.

The weather has been BEAUTIFUL here in W-town, which is a pretty big deal since it generally snows until the end of April. But with beautiful weather comes hot rooms...and with hot rooms comes open windows...and with open windows come creepy crawly THINGS and then I freak out. Case in point: the other night L. and I were laying in his bed enjoying a quality episode of Gossip Girl, when all of a sudden I noticed about 10 fly-like things moving around on the ceiling. I freaked out and forced him to kill them all. This all comes after I've been waking up with these little red bites all over, so I'm convinced there are bedbugs afoot. Oh, and then the next night I picked a t-shirt up off the ground only to discover a brown, multi-legged, worm-type-thing stuck to it, so I cried for awhile and made L. take it away.

On second thought W-town, I wouldn't mind if you stayed cooler a little longer. Kisses, Michelle.

Some Singing and Some Pasta

As I mentioned on Friday, L. had a solo in his a cappella concert, singing Love and Memories by O.A.R. Here's the rockstar now:



Pretty great, huh? The concert was super fun and, as you can hear, really high-charged with energy. That may or may not have been a factor of legitimate excitement to hear these cute boys sing, and the pregaming that most likely went on beforehand. C. and I collected money (Octet's tickets are "about a dollar") before the show and in return got specially reserved seats. The boys had a big party afterward which was okay, if not highly testosterone-charged. Senior Biology Major, who you might recall from this post, showed up and went on for awhile about how lucky I was to have someone, and he said he thought college was the best time to have a boyfriend or girlfriend. Having a boyfriend is great, I told him, but you get to meet all kinds of new people! His response? "So do you...you met me." This conversation followed one we had Thursday at the bar, and I don't think I can doubt that he's into me now. I'm hoping we can be friends--I've already tried to help him with some other girl issues he has--and he's leaving to go study in an exotic country on a fellowship after he graduates anyway, so he's a non-issue. The attention is definitely nice, but I was anxious to find and get back to L. Then we played Wii, which is always better than a party, in my opinion.

Saturday was our one and a half year anniversary! It might seem silly to celebrate a halfsies anniversary, but we didn't get to make a big deal out of our one year since it was the tech weekend for the play I was directing, so we ordered pizza and watched the Green Bay Packers game. If you know me, you know that that was actually perfection, since I'm a major cheesehead, but it was nice to actually make a big deal out of an anniversary.

We drove to Pittsfield, which is about a half hour drive from Williamstown, for our 8:15 reservation at Elizabeth's, a tiny family-style Italian cafe that's owned by an adorable husband and wife couple: Tom and, you guessed it, Elizabeth. Isn't their menu adorable? Sorry for the poor quality of the pictures; we took them on L.'s iPhone.

Elizabeth's is probably the best dining experience I've ever had. The only forms of payment they accept are cash, check, and IOUs. Yes, they actually do accept IOUs, mostly because people show up with credit cards, order oodles of delicious noodles, and then have no means by which to pay. Every meal comes with warm, crusty, fresh-baked bread (as much as you want!), and a huge metal bowl of a really eclectic salad that's always changing-- ours had strawberries, cheddar, parmesan, kiwi, potatoes, lettuce, carrots, celery...it is so good.

I ordered their Gorgonzola stuffed shells (on the other side of the menu, in case you were looking for them above!) It sounded like it would be too rich, and lo and behold, it was, but only in the way that chocolate cake can be too rich--you might get a little sick but it's just so delicious!


Look at how gooey and gloppy that Gorgonzola is...and how some of the shells are just perfectly crisp. It was like homemade baked macaroni and cheese...without the bread crumbs. Perfection.

L. got the Pasta with Bolognaise sauce, which intially I thought I wouldn't like. When I thought of Bolognaise I also thought of Hollondaise sauce, which I detest. I thought Bolognaise would be a white sauce, but when it arrived on L.'s plate, it was a delicious, meaty, tomato-y, amazing looking gem of a dish:


I like some tomato in my pasta, and while my gooey, gloppy cheese was DELICIOUS for the first few bites, I realized that I couldn't finish it. I did, however, eat quite a few forkfuls of L.'s pasta. He liked it too, as you can see:


We were too stuffed for dessert by the time we finished our meals, but when we said we weren't going to order any, Tom (who likes to walk around and talk to everyone while they eat, while Lizzie cooks up the food in the open-concept kitchen and "chef's tables" dining room), sent over some delicious thin, crispy sourdough cookies on the house. We somehow found room to eat those.


Thank you L. for a delicious, romantic, and completely non-South Beach friendly anniversary!

In other news, I promised a Poli Sci Jeps recap for all y'all, so stay tuned for that...(hint: it did NOT go as well as hoped.)

Get Down Mr. President

Here's why it's going to be a great weekend:

1. It's going to be in the 80s!

2. To ease myself into end-of-the-semester stress, I may or may not have bought myself a little present (read: SoCo and sour mix) to have fun and take my mind off the four papers I have to write.

3. Tonight is L.'s a cappella group, The Octet's, final concert! It's a really big deal. He just got elected President (yay!), and he has a solo in the concert tonight (Love and Memories by O.A.R.)

They're actually quite good, and they performed live in New York City with the band Motion City Soundtrack after the band saw one of their homemade videos (of L. singing, no less) and invited them to a concert at Irving Plaza! Pretty cool, huh? There were over 1,000 people there!

Here's my baby rocking out for the show's encore! Remember him when he gets famous!

But they're not always rockstars. Here's the more modest venue they'll be singing in tonight:


(The video is from Fall 2007, only a couple months after L. and I met, and we weren't yet dating, but were best friends. If you listen closely in the beginning, you can hear a girl yell, "I love you Lucas!" You can guess who that was.)


I'm so proud of him and I'm so excited to celebrate his solo and presidency this weekend!

4. We have some more things to celebrate this weekend-- L.'s and my 1 1/2 year anniversary! In honor of it, I'll probably be making an "About Me and L." tab up there at the top of my page, so feel free to read about the tumultuous and crazy story that led up to us finally getting together!

5. Despite the sheer awesomeness of all those things (whiskey, L., and celebrating special occasions are probably some of my favorite things), there's yet another that in its own way is untoppable.

On Sunday, in our college pub, my best friend C. and I will be playing some Jeopardy, or Jeps, as a blogger I love (and you should therefore too) kk calls it. However, this isn't just normal Jeopardy. See, C. and I both happen to be Poli Sci majors (at least, I am until the department finally figures out I haven't taken all the courses to fill the requirement for the major...already being an English major and pre-law takes up enough of my life, thx), and this is POLI SCI JEOPARDY. Like with students and faculty members (two students, one faculty member) on each team. Three teams.

BUT WAIT. It gets better. Prof C., whose infamy you may remember from this post, is one of the faculty members we get to team up with because, get this-- HE WAS AN ACTUAL JEPS CONTESTANT IN 2008!

Guys. This is a big deal. See, C. and I are a little...obsessed with Prof C. We giggle endlessly during his Con Law lectures (okay, today's was all about pasties. Not kidding. Come on!) and C. covets his cute baby while I just want his life (tenure track working for your alma mater with a nice house and married by your late twenties? Yes plz). So anyways needless to say it's more than a little creepy that we were the first to throw our names in the ring to be on Prof C.'s Jeps team. But whatever because it's going to be AMAZING. And there will be pictures. Oh, will there be pictures.

We thought about making t-shirts, but C. vetoed the idea. We need to keep some semblance of dignity.

Overdue Hawaii Recap (With Pictures!)

If you're like me and living somewhere where it's cold, rainy, and decidedly un-springy, then hopefully seeing some bright, sunny, cheerful pictures will rest your sore eyes and get you excited for Summer! (And not, in fact, make you more miserable...)

I still have my Hawaii tan, but the warmth of the sun and the tropical flowery smell is beginning to fade. So what better thing to do than immortalize it with a recap post! L. and I flew out to Hawaii from cold, rainy Boston on Wednesday, March 24 around 8 a.m. Just as a note of reference, we didn't land in Hawaii until 11 p.m. That's a LONG day of traveling. When we did land, everything was dark, but the muggy air, the fact that I didn't need a sweater at midnight outside, and the smell of flowers let us know that when we woke up in the morning...

...we'd be seeing this. And that's exactly what we did. On our first day in Princeville, which is the area of Kauai that we were staying on, we went to visit L.'s aunt and uncle who lived a few minutes away, in Kilauea, on a cliff JUST ABOVE this private beach (lucky ducks!). Kilauea and Princeville are on the North side of the island, which is a little less sunny (read: more rainy) and a little more residential, rather than the touristy spots. Accordingly, our beach was completely deserted. We walked down these vertical stairs built right into the side of the cliff--something like 285 in all, to get down here, but it was so worth it.


We spent Thursday hanging about lazily while L. and I adjusted to our jet lag (we were passed out by 10 p.m. and I was up bright and early at 7 a.m. each morning, which allowed me to tear through multiple novels by the end of our trip.) We had a great homecooked dinner of salad with goat cheese and homemade balsamic dressing (my favorite!), chicken and fish, and cornbread, which was heavenly.

Friday L. and his dad went golfing, so I spent the day shopping with L.'s mom and L's aunt, which is when I found that beautiful dress I posted about. (Note: I still haven't found an alternative! If you want to help, leave the link of your favorite place to online dress shop!)
On Saturday, L. and I went ziplining! For those of you who haven't done it, it's a MUST. I've been twice now--once in the White Mountains of New Hampshire with Big Relationship, and now in Hawaii. It's an amazing feeling to be completed suspended hundreds of feet above rivers, valleys, canyons, and even trees. Here I am about to fly through the air:


On Sunday, L.'s mom and I decided we'd go watch the boys play golf at the Princeville Golf Club, since it's right on the ocean and was supposed to have beautiful views. We forgot to take into consideration that the boys get quite grumpy when they play golf, since both are uber competitive (L. was the captain of his high school golf team and is really good) and hate to lose. Needless to say, with the boys getting grumpers L.'s mom and I decided to make our own fun, which consisted of creeping in all the huge beautiful houses right off the course (you could literally see into people's living rooms), and munching on all the yummy dried fruit and nuts we had bought from the Kilauea equivalent of Whole Foods called Papaya's. Too bad we made the classic mistake of feeding some nuts to some of the wild chickens that roam EVERYWHERE in Kauai. (They used to be kept in cages all over the island but years ago a huge storm broke open all the cages so now they are all over the place.) The chickens FOLLOWED us around the golf course and when we left the cart, we heard a big PLOP! and turned around to see a chicken trying to make off with our entire bag of nuts and fruit! It weighed more than him!


Here's the guys on one of the last few holes. I think the reason they look so happy is because they were almost done!

After golf L.'s mom and I announced we needed to relax with a drink, and the boys agreed. So we went to the St. Regis Hotel in Princeville, which is possibly the most beautiful hotel with the most beautiful views I've ever seen. We ordered some drinks on the balcony and watched the sunset over the ocean.


Everyone should be SO SAD that I didn't get any pictures of the burgers we got here too. Let me tell you. These were the BEST burgers I have ever had in my life. We met people who literally flew to Kauai to get these burgers. (And to go to the beach, blah blah blah).


On Tuesday, we all packed up our things and left our vacation home on the North side of the island and made our way down to the South side of the Island, which is known for being sunnier and generally more resort-y. That was fine with me and L., since all we wanted to do was sit on the beach, bask in the sun, and read books.
Here's the North side of the island again, for comparison. Remember that this side is more residential, with more greenery, and is a bit more humid and rainy. Not too bad, right?:

Now here's the view from the resort on the South side:


Mmm, Mama like. The South side was full of swanky hotels, swanky restaurants, and gorge views. Call me the opposite of old-fashioned, but I loved it. We got gelato every night, which, if you know me, know that gelato/ice cream are possibly all I need to survive. We ate at so many great restaurants, including one called The Red Salt, which had possibly the most delicious chicken I've ever had in my life. It melted in my mouth. Their name comes from the delicious, unsalted butter they serve with their bread, and the tiny bowl of red salt that comes with it. You spread your butter on the bread and then sprinkle the crunchy salt on top. It was SO addictive. Red salt, melt-in-your-mouth chicken, and a nice glass of Sauvignon Blanc, and I was a happy camper.

(Red Salt image from Ko'a Kea Resort)

And look who we found one day when we were lounging on the beach! What a cutie! Hawaiian Monk Seals tend to just hang out and sleep on the beach all day. Combine that with my wine, chicken, and red salt, and I would never ask for anything ever again.

L. and I would have been perfectly content to snorkel all day long, but on Thursday everyone decided we should go to the "Grand Canyon" of Hawaii, which is actually pretty amazing, once you get up there. Too bad for me and L., we're both super motion sickness-prone, and the drive up the windy, tiny roads left both of us feeling pretty miserable. I may or may not have thrown up a little. The view was almost worth it:


On Friday it was time to come home and I can't say I wasn't more than a little depressed. Having been back in the misery of college life, replete with mountains of papers and obligations and very little sun, for about a month now, our trip almost feels like it never happened. L.'s aunt and uncle invited us to come back and see then whenever we'd like. Oh, if only they knew how much we plan on taking them up on that offer...

A Night in the Emergency Room

Many of you have expressed concern over my teaser about having to take a little trip to the ER last week, so I thought I would end the suspense and dish about it.

There are two things I should make clear before we begin. The first is that L. is always in the Emergency Room. Not to say that each time he goes I worry less (I freak out every time) or that it's less serious (they've all been adverse things in their own ways), but that boy has a penchant for getting himself hurt/getting into accidents/getting sick. That last one isn't really his fault, since he got mono two years ago and it's been unmercifully usurping his immune system ever since, but the guy basically just has me worried all the time.

This particular time came on the heels of a severe ear infection he got a couple weeks ago. "Why, Michelle, I didn't even know you could get ear infections past toddlerhood?" you ask me. Good question. (He's going to hate me for this.) I think the reason people tend not to get ear infections as they get older is because they know to blow the yuckies out of their nose rather than sniffle them all up to clog and infect their sinuses, but my L. didn't really take heed of that knowledge. Thus, ear infection.

Anyways, so a few weeks ago he went in for that, so I was worried, but I was a dutiful girlfriend, and put his drops in his ear at night, and secretly thought to myself, "well, that takes care of L.'s ER quota for awhile, so smooth sailing from here."

Well, smooth sailing was not what we got. L. was at rehearsal last Wednesday night, which was actually his last tech rehearsal before the show, Twelfth Night (he was Toby Belch) went up on Thursday. During the middle of his rehearsal, I get a call from our friend, who was playing Sir Andrew Aguecheek. So we'll just call him Sir A.

Sir A calls. Nonplussed, I answer the phone.

"Hey Michelle," says Sir A. "So, um, L. had an accident and hurt his head, and they're bringing him to the Emergency Room in the ambulance. I thought you might want to go over there and meet them."

I couldn't tell if Sir A. was trying to downplay the situation to make me feel better, or trying to conceal how bad it really was, but I said I'd go right away and immediately got a little shaky and dizzy. Head injuries scare me so, so much. I know that what happened to Natasha Richardson was a freak occurrence, but there's still a lot to be said for not underestimating the seriousness of a head injury. Apparently in one scene L. was supposed to do a backwards somersault, and instead of landing on his shoulders, he landed smack dab on his head. Hard. So I ran to my car and drove to the hospital, realized I didn't know where the hospital was though I've been there (for my own head injury! Strange, huh?), called C. and she told me, and finally arrived in the ER and asked to see L.

First, the nurse told me they didn't have anyone by L.'s last name there. I was starting to get really upset with her when she finally found him in the system but said I couldn't go in yet since he was being "evaluated." Ten minutes later, he went in for a CAT scan. By then, I was more than freaking out. When I went to the hospital for my concussion two years ago, all I did was sit in a little room and drink some cranberry juice and eat some graham crackers. So the fact that they were taking him in for a CAT scan really worried me.

Two of L.'s other castmates and his director showed up and waited with me, and finally the nurse came out and said we could see L., but not all at once. (I guess it was kind of funny to see all those people waiting for him.) So his director and I went in, and he was sitting up in bed, being silly and making jokes, and except for some very dilated pupils and a big bump on his head he seemed okay. In fact, he was even still in his costume for the play, which added another layer of relief/humor to the whole thing. His CAT scan showed there was no swelling in his brain, thankfully, so a few hours later they said he could go home. He definitely had a concussion, they said, but he could sleep through the night. I made sure he got some food and got him to bed, and though this is incredibly melodramatic of me was really thankful he woke up easily in the morning.

At least I can say my boyfriend always keeps me on my feet?

L,'s Birthday Weekend, and 100th Post!

1. This is my 100th post! Yay!

2. As you may have noticed, the cute snow application that used to make my blog seasonal and joyful is now GONE. You know why? Because it's officially March, and I refuse to believe the snow has any reason to continue. Though...it's snowed the last 6 days in a row in Williamstown. And...in New England we regularly have snow through the end of April.

But removing this from my page layout is definitely going to send the snow a major message.

3. L's 21st was on Saturday! I planned three--count 'em, three--surprises for it. Surprise #1 occured on Wednesday and was his actual gift and it consisted of....drum roll...us fleeing Williams for the night, driving three hours to Boston, seeing the LION KING (!!!), getting sugar-free ice cream and mexican food at one of those big highway rest stops (less sketchy than it sounds), and not getting back to Williams till 2 am though we both had class that morning. We are rebels. It felt soo good to get away from this hell-hole (yeah, I said it) for even just an evening. And Lion King was SO. GOOD. There were 15-foot-tall giraffes. Also I ended up getting us literally the LAST seats in the house, in the center of the very LAST row, because I'm a terrible girlfriend (okay, to be fair I don't have any money, and I also spent like a million other dollars on his party birthday dinner and birthday drinks last weekend).

Friday night we had a big party and all night I was getting super antsy about the surprise that L.'s mom and I had planned...42 delicious cupcakes. "But Michelle, you're on South Beach. Why are you eating cupcakes?" you say. To that I say, "Diet was non-existent for one night. I also ate bbq chicken pizza. Deal with it." (To myself.) (Because when I go off my diet, I cry. Literally. And then refuse to wear real pants.)

The cupcakes were a hit. Plus, they were huge with tons of frosting, so they were perfect for smooshing in L.'s face. (It's his birthday. It's gotta happen.)

Saturday, his actual b-day, I took him and some of our guy friends to The Forge, aka the best wings and beer in the Berkshires, nay, Massachusetts, nay, the world. They have over 300 kinds of beer, most of it on tap. And the wings. Oh my god the wings. We got 4 dozen. YUP. 4 DOZEN. We don't mess around.

I'm a little disconcerted that the bar, my 21-year-old-girl-time escape, is now able to be infiltrated by my boyfriend, who, clearly, I love very much, but sometimes a girl's gotta get away. But we had tons of fun there too and L. did not go without, if you know what I mean. I had to BEG people to STOP buying him drinks.

4. I've been doing South Beach again for almost 3 weeks now. Last summer when I started I went from weighing 155-160 and being a size 10-12, the weight at which I felt the most depressed and miserable I've ever felt, to 140, or a size 8. It was life-changing. I fell off the wagon a bit late last fall/winter (aka holiday season) and hovered around 145-147 for awhile. Since L. and I are going to Hawaii in three weeks, three weeks ago I decided it was time to kick myself into high gear. I've been eating nothing but veggies and meat, and hitting the gym every day, which is HUGE for me since I've always been great with diets but terrible at getting to the gym. I weighed myself the other day and...I'm at 138!

You have no idea what this means to me. I haven't been in the 130's since middle school, I think. This also means I'm only 13 pounds away from my ultimate goal, 125. That is incredible to me. 125 is the weight at which I will be completely satisfied, and finally feel that I'm living in the body I want to live in. I've never thought that state of mind could be attainable, and to know it's only 13 lbs and some toning away is mind-blowing. I'm hovering between a size 8 and 6 right now, and ultimately I'd love to be a 4.

Last summer, I mentioned that I was dieting, but I never would have DREAMED of sharing my weight or dress size on my blog/the interwebs. But I've realized that including people in my goals and progress has helped me tremendously in getting it off faster.

Also, I'd just like to reinforce that these numbers (125, size 4) are what I've decided is best for me, and my body type. I've arrived at them from careful study of my BMI, and the target weight for my height and age. This is completely different for everyone, but I just want everyone to know I'm not striving for some arbitrary number because my definition of "thin" has been skewed by too many hours spend browsing through the Victoria's Secret catalogue. I'm never going to be "thin"--my boobs and butt laugh in the face of that word--but I think these numbers are where my figure will feel happiest.

5. That being said, I'm actually getting EXCITED to go bathing suit shopping. I hate swimming and going to the beach and I've realized I hate those things because I've never felt comfortable in a bathing suit. Well, that's over now. I'm determined to look smokin' in this little number:


I LOVE THIS SWIMSUIT. I love those coral bubbles. I think they're the most adorable thing, ever.

What's your favorite swimsuit of the season?

Date Night and a Must-Hear

Note: Shameless Plugging ahead
(but not for myself so it's okay...right?)

Though we haven't been apart very much this week, L. and I are getting a little stir-crazy on campus, which is why I've been so looking forward to spending some time together on our date night tonight!

We're driving to the grand city of Pittsfield to have dinner and see a show by a great band, Darlingside.

Its members are all recent (and waningly recent, he-he) graduates of Williams, and they're really great and talented guys who are on the verge of their big break! So if you like indie, string-rock, cellos, quintets, acoustic jams, or just great music, check this video out and spread the word!

Hope everyone has a lovely weekend.

Shorty?

I just found a really interesting article on Your Tango about women who refuse to date shorter men. Is this a pretty universal thing? I know that personally, I've always preferred my boyfriends to be 6'0 or even taller (I'm 5'4), and though it sounds weird, when I think of my best relationships, they were with people who were 6'3, 6'1, and 6'0 (sorry L., that last one should be is 6'0!)

How does everyone else feel about this? I think a big part of it for me is that shorter men often break my universal rule of dating--I won't date people whose thighs are smaller than mine! Another part of it is that, just like most people have those weird things that really do it for them, I'm hopelessly attracted to giants. Like towering, fi-fi-fo-fum, my-head-rests-in-their-armpit, giants. It seems to make me swoon when they're about a foot taller than me. See?:

Exhibit A:

Jason Segel.
Major crush.
6'4.

Exhibit B:

Michael Phelps.
Take me now.
6'4.

Exhibit C:

John Krasinski
Please let me have your (tall) babies.
6'3

... I could go on and on.

So am I the only one that goes for Gigantors, or do you guys like 'em too?

L. is Famous!

L.'s a cappella group, The Williams Octet, had their Fall Final Concert last Saturday. L. had arranged one of the songs--Fell in Love Without You, by Motion City Soundtrack, and got the solo for it as well.

Well, Motion City Soundtrack somehow found the video when the guys uploaded it on Youtube, and gave them a shout out on their twitter page!

Now the guys' video has almost 2,000 views since last night, and counting! I'm so proud of L. for doing such a great job with the arrangement and with the solo as well that the actual band the song is by gave him and the group props!

Nice job, boys!

You can watch the video below. (Also, if you don't listen to Motion City Soundtrack...you should. 'Cause they're awesome.)

Things I Meant to Say: Never Eating Mexican Food and Raw Cookie Dough in the Same Night Again

1. It's 2:51 on the Sunday of finals week and rather than spend it being a productive member of society in the libes, I haven't yet gotten out of bed. No, I haven't been sleeping...I woke up at 10. I have food poisoning. YAY FOR ME. Last night L. and I went out to dinner with some of our couple friends, and naturally being poor college students decided to go to our friendly neighborhood Mexican cantina, Desperados. L. and I usually have a good experience when we go and the food, while not top-notch, certainly isn't terrible. However, either something at the restaurant or perhaps the raw storebought sugar Christmas cookie dough I ate last night didn't quite agree with me, since my body has been ravaged ever since. Sorry for that.

2. WHAT THE F IS THIS VEVO NONSENSE? All I want to do while confined to my bed is watch Bad Romance. But Youtube directs me to this stupid Vevo channel when I try to watch any of Lady GaGa's videos. What is this?? It lags SO MUCH and ruins my day.

3. Are the tattoos GaGa has in the video real? Also, she looks pretty rockin' from the front, but when you can see her whole SPINE? Come on girl, eat a sandwich!

4. I am IMing with P. about the Vevo situation and about how Williams internet SUCKS BUMS. I sent her the link to the opening skit of the Blake Lively hosted SNL parodying the couple who snuck into the White House. She heard all about that, but IMs me back:

"Who is Blake Lively, anyways?"

GIRL. Come on.

5. I was a bad girl and ordered some early xmas presents for yours truly from AE, including a navy fairisle sweater and a heather brown (my color) cardigan. They should be arriving tomorrow. I am overjoyed. I really wanted the AE Bling Cardigan cause, well, I'm into that kinda thing, but I couldn't justify spending $60 on it.

6. And before you're all like "Michelle, come on, you don't have the money to buy these things, you're addicted to online shopping, you fill up virtual shopping carts and shopping bags with hundreds of dollars worth of stuff that you're never gonna buy which means that you obviously have a problem, what would your mother say blah blah blah" I would just like to say that they were having FREE SHIPPING AND 20% OFF AND MY MOTHER WOULD BE DAMN PROUD OF MY SALE-HUNTING SKILLS.

7. Back to the food poisoning (cause I know you wanted to go back there), my problem with stomach viruses of any kind is that when I get them I refuse to eat since I'm terrified it'll get worse, which probably just messes up my stomach more, and I'll also NEVER go back to the place or eat the food that might-have-perhaps-but-probably-didn't-even-make-me-sick. Sun Chips free since '93...or somewhere around there. Just wanted a How I Met Your Mother shout-out.

8. Speaking of How I Met Your Mother, L. and I are beginning to think about auditioning the Ted to our Marshall and Lily for our apartment after graduation next year. We've got a couple good boys lined up. It should be great times.

Double Date: Reunited

You may remember me having mentioned that C. and R.L.D.H. (Real Life Dan Humphrey) have started dating again and are trying to make it work long-distance (three hours from Williams to Boston). Not only am I incredibly happy for them, but L. and I are overjoyed as well, since they were our best couple friends! C. is one of my best girlfriends individually, and D.H. is one of L.'s closest guy friends, so the four of us together is pure bliss.

This weekend, we got to have our first double-date reunion since they began dating again. The last time we were all together was last spring, before D.H. graduated and moved to Boston to work at a consulting firm, while C. and L. and I are still at Williams. I MISSED COUPLE FRIENDS SO MUCH. L. and I are totally Marshall and Lily from HIMYM. We are sickening and the same person and above all love having couple friends. Well, I know I do. I'm pretty sure he does too...

Friday night we headed over to C.'s building and met up with Baby Zumbi, D.H.'s brother who also goes to Williams with us and is a year younger. The nickname is a complete inside joke and impossible to explain. We had a great time having drinks and catching up and enjoying each other's company for the first time in a long time.

Once C. and I were sufficiently ready to dance (let's GO! WE want to DANCEEEEEEE!!!!), we had to drag the boys away. We had no problem mobilizing Baby Zumbi, who decided to "clean up" the drinks that we hadn't been able to finish...including the rest of C.'s handle of smirnoff and the rest of my Captain Morgan. Needless to say, we only had about 15 minutes of dancing before we spotted D.H. guiding a poor-form Baby Zumbi toward the door.

THEN we had a little incident where L. and I went to find our jackets, and I discovered that my black North Face fleece was NOT in the location wherein I had left it. Being in high spirits, I proceeded to throw a tantrum and then cry. While ridiculous, my response is justified in my opinion.
A: I LOVE my North Face fleece.
B: It is warm and comfy and stylish.
C: My mom bought it for me as a gift after MUCH hinting.
Unfortunately, every other Williams student also has a black North Face fleece, and proceeds apparently to GRAB whichever one they see on their way out. My phone was thrown to the ground a few feet away from the where I had left the jacket, which made me even angrier, and then I found a black fleece in my size completely not in the place where I had left mine, but L. helped me investigate it and we affirmed that it smelled like me, had hair of the same length and color as mine on it, and that one of the ties on the zipper was hand-tied, so we were 99% sure it was mine. I am still so annoyed that people on this campus will grab the first jacket/umbrella/laptop/gloves/ETC that they see and take it for their own, but I guess that's another blog post.

Saturday was much better. First off it was the annual Williamstown Holiday Walk, which involves hundreds of dogs dressed up as reindeer being walked down the street, among other things, but honestly, who are we kidding? I'm in it for the dogs. L. and I watched from the window while we did work. Then C. and I got pretty and D.H. and L. took us out to one of our favorite restaurants for dinner, which was super sweet of them. After we gorged ourselves on Mexican food we basically repeated our Friday-night pregame, but C. felt sick so we played beirut with the boys drinking beer and C. and I using Vitamin Water, while Baby Zumbi smartly refrained from drinking altogether and wrote a paper. We laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation and thought about how funny it would be if security came to break us up.

D.H. left this afternoon and we were all pretty bummed about it, since the next time we'll all get to spend time together probably won't be for another month or so. But L. and I are just thankful to have our couple friends back.

The Home Stretch....

TUESDAY CANNOT COME FAST ENOUGH.

That's because Tuesday is the day that L. and I pack up our things, jump in his car (isn't he such a gentleman for driving?), and drive three hours to New Hampshire for Thanksgiving at my parents' house!


Thanksgiving is such a wonderful day at my house. We have so many traditions, and I can't wait for L. to be a part of them. We wake up in the morning and come downstairs, where my mum puts out coffee, tea, blueberry muffins and fruit, and watch the parade. Then we all shower and get ready, and start setting out the hor' d'oeurves (cheese and crackers, shrimp cocktail, nuts) and munching on them while my dad finishes up the turkey. It's my job to cook the flaky biscuits at this point, since everyone else always forgets, and that's also about the time that the NATIONAL DOG SHOW comes on, which is one of my favorite parts of the day.


We eat dinner really early...really early, like 1pm, and it's delicious. Then after that, we get out the pumpkin and apple pies and put on the Thanksgiving Day football game. This year, it just so happens to be...THE GREEN BAY PACKERS v. the DETROIT LIONS!

I have NEVER been able to experience the joy of watching the Packers on Thanksgiving Day. It is going to be absolutely indescribably wonderful. Also, we're playing the LIONS. Aka guaranteed win. Aka Merry Early Christmas, Michelle!

After the immense and overbrimming happiness with which that win will fill me, we will partake in our next Thanksgiving Day tradition-- going to the movies. I always feel rather bad for the people who have to work at the movie theatre when I go there Thanksgiving night, but then again, I've had to hostess on Christmas Eve. This Thanksgiving I want to extend the football gloriousness for two more hours and get L. and my dad to go see The Blind Side with me. My mum hates staying up late so she might not want to come, and my dad hates Sandra Bullock, but I know L. will be easily persuaded. (Mostly because he will be at my house, and faced with the decision of staying home with my parents or doing whatever I want to do, he will choose the latter...)

I absolutely can't wait to get out of here on Tuesday! For now, the only thing standing between me and homey holiday happiness is my Con Law paper on separation of powers jurisprudence in the Burger and Rehnquist courts. Boooooooo.

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Wishlist

Tis the season...to be thinking about giving, not the things that I am selfishly obsessing about every day. And that's okay...I'm kind of a master gift-maker and picker-outer, as current and past boyfriends, my parents, friends, the mailman, etc. can attest. But just 'cause a girl's gotta give doesn't mean she still can't secretly fantasize about what's been occupying her thoughts lately (and then share it with all of you), right?

Thus, here is my Holiday 2009 Wishlist of Things I Will Most Likely Never Have Anytime Soon...But It's Fun to Dream About

1. My Goldendoodle Puppy Named George Eliot

It's no secret that with surprisingly rapidity lately, my biological desires to make babies have been being phased out by my mental desire to maintain a childless existence for many, many more years. However, this urge has not simply vanished or dissipated...it has manifested itself into puppies. I am obsessed with puppies the way most people are obsessed with babies. There's no way I can wait another year and a half until graduation to obtain one. I think I may have to get one on the fly and somehow keep it at my parents' house while I then focus my career and/or grad school search around finding a place to live which will allow George Eliot to remain in my life as my faithful companion.

2. iTrip So That I Can Stop Listening to the Same 5 CDs in My Car On Repeat


Anyone who drives with me knows the low-down when it comes to music in my car...I mean, besides the fact that I am DJ, all the time, and it's tough shit for everyone else. But other than that, the CD playing-system in my car, with my 6-disc changer, works like this: 5 very special-to-my-heart, tried-and-true CDs that will always have something for me on my three hour drives home from college...or half hour drives to anything resembling civilization outside Williamstown...will always reside in the first 5 slots of my CD changer. These CDs are referred to as the "Tenured Slots," and they cannot be moved around or taken out except to risk of great harm to whoever tries to move them around. However, I do allow some leeway on CD Slot Number 6, which is known as the Visiting Professor Slot. This slot can incorporate anything from C.'s or Real Life Dan Humphrey's penchant for Taylor Swift, to L.'s hip-hop that seems to be growing on me, to CDs I've made myself to try out but have a sneaking suspicion won't make it to tenure. It's a RARE, RARE case when a tenured slot gets retired to make room for a Visiting Professor slot that just really impressed me.

Anyways, this is the way music works in my car. But lately, I've simply been growing bored of my tenured CDs. And the FM adaptor I've had for four years only works if you plug it in, hold it at approximately a 40 degree angle, wind the cord around it once, hop up and down on one foot, knock three times, etc. etc.

Also, I .actually may or may not have bought this yesterday, no longer rendering it a Wishlist item, but more of a Recent Purchase. Oops.

3. Tall Uggs

I know that, if I were to obtain these beautiful, beautiful displays of perfect footwear, they'd be ruined in one week of harsh Williamstown winters replete with feet of snow, stubbornly persistent slush, and more salt than the ocean. But I DON'T CARE. They are lovely and since this is the first year I've ever owned a pair of skinny jeans, they're almost essential.

4. J. Crew Wool Duffle Coat in Camel


Okay, so while making a case that ANY of these items are "justified" would probably be tough, this one possibly could almost be considered to be so. I currently do my Castalina Bandolino cognac riding boots a disservice every time I pair them with my black North Face fleece, but at least it's considered New England College Chic. However, when the skirts and tights and flats come out, the North Face isn't going to cut it. Plus, this coat would bring out my brown eyes...and it's lined with Thinsulate! And it's pretty...and I love it...

5. A(nother) Haircut

Must...resist....

6. A New Bathing Suit for L.'s and My Spring Break Trip to Hawaii

Except I'd want this Victoria's Secret Push Up Halter Top and Double-String Bottom suit in Jade, which is the most beautiful green I've ever seen and perfect for brunettes. Victoria's Secret has a flash player on their website so they wouldn't let me copy and paste the Jade suit. Boo. Check it out!

Maybe I'll send L. the link to this post before Christmas...he he he.

What is everyone else salivating over this holiday season?

Catching Up: Just Friends? Part 2

The first couple weeks of my sophomore year at Williams, in Fall 2008, were not so great. There was the notorious sophomore slump, for one. And the next couple got even worse. The first weekend back involved going to a party thrown by L.'s a cappella group, watching him with other girls, and leaving in tears. Summer Romance, as it turned out, was not very good at keeping up his end of the long-distance deal. He barely made time to talk on the phone, and our conversations were strained, at best. Meanwhile my friends back at work continued to tell me stories of Summer Romance and Other Woman's alleged relationship, and being three hours away I did the only thing I could think to do: come home unexpectedly and see if he had any time to see me, or if he was suspiciously booked for the whole weekend.

The first weekend I came home wasn't decisive, as he had some afternoon time and took me out to dinner (read: we split it and then I left the tip because he didn't have enough money), but after that he "had to meet up with his cousin to watch the Sox game." I didn't even know he had a cousin.

The visit wasn't great but it wasn't enough to make me end things, and L. had seemed strangely affected by the idea that after he had broken my heart over the summer I had returned to Williams with a new boyfriend, so I wanted to ride that road out and see why that was the case. After another few weeks went by, a friend from work called to tell me some interesting news: Summer Romance had a bonfire at his house for our work friends, Other Woman was in attendance, and suspiciously stayed the night when everyone else left to go home. Of all the questionable things Summer Romance had done, which included, but are not limited to,

Having me leave his apartment before brunch and me going home to read that Other Woman appeared to be going with him and his parents, who I didn't even know where in town

The magically-appearing mascara smudges on his pillows when I made sure to wash my face before going to bed

Come into work one night when he didn't know I was working at chatted with Other Woman while she worked the bar, and then awkwardly tried to alleviate both of our questioning stares

Told me he would come to my parents' beach hosue on Memorial Day weekend (aka the day before I left for college), but cancelled last-minute

Refused to let me end the relationship

...of all those terrible things, FINALLY somehow that was the last straw. I called him up and ended things, despite his angry allegations that she was too drunk to drive home and needed a place to stay. A few weeks later I went home for the weekend since he wanted to talk things out in person, and stayed with him since my parents had gone north for the weekend and empty houses creep me out. But I had gotten hints that Summer Romance had made more of a commitment to Other Woman after he and I broke up, so I refused to kiss him or sleep in his bed. It was a confusing and awful weekend, especially since I was the only one with any fortitude in keeping the physicality to a minimum.

I only saw him once more after that and a month or so later, L., who had been there for me the whole time, and I began dating. I saw him on Christmas Eve, when he came into work (Yes, I had to work Christmas Eve. Damn the restaruant industry!). It was strained and awkward and, as much as I hated it, emotional, and when he asked to get coffee so we could talk over what had happened I almost said yes. But of course, then I decided last-minute to jet off to Santa Barbara for New Year's Even with L.'s family. And when I texted Summer Romance that as the reason why we couldn't get coffee, he responded with

"All the way to California for him? Wow, looks like I missed out on a good thing. Though I never really had much confidence in you having a long-distance relationship..."

I deleted that text almost immediately and it's still burned in my memory. Only if by "confidence in me having a long-distance relationship" he means "turning a blind eye when I feel the need to sleep with other women when we're apart." Ugh!

Cut to last summer, Summer 2009. I wasn't home for most of it as I had my art musuem internship near school, but right at the end I had a couple weeks and Summer Romance wanted to get together and have that long-time-coming talk about "what had gone wrong between us." Um? YOU WERE SLEEPING WITH SOMEONE ELSE.

Luckily, this talk coincided with me recently having lost 20 pounds on the South Beach Diet, so I got into a pair of jeans that were TWO sizes smaller than the ones he had last seen me in, a v-neck tee, and cute heels. We had decided that I would drop by the highschool since he was trying to get his classroom together for the first day of school. He had complained that he didn't have enough decorations for the room so on the way I stopped at Staples and grabbed some of those cheesy window clings you see in Kindergarten classrooms--you know, the ones that have one ant holding up the number 1, two caterpillars carrying the number 2, and so on.

I got to his classroom and, though my hands were a little shaky, sauntered in the door and made a Geometry joke right off the bat (he's a Geometry teacher, if you didn't catch that.) We hugged, I told him I had the perfect thing for him to put up in his room, and presented him with the window clings. He laughed, my hands stopped shaking, and that is where the power shifted and stayed. His next words were that I looked "soo skinny...you're a skinny minnie!"...really dating himself on that one. Anyways, I made him laugh, got him a kick ass joke gift, and he noticed I was hot. Things were going pretty well.

They only got better from there. He showed me some of our cute texts from the previous summer that he had SAVED FOR A YEAR. I promptly told him that I had gotten a new phone and didn't have any of mine. He asked if he could see me again over Thanksgiving. I told him L. was coming home with me. He not-so-subtly had one of his teacher friends come in to "chat," but sheepishly admitted they had planned the whole thing an hour before so he could show off his hot ex-girlfriend. And when I told him I had to leave, he got serious, took my hand, told me that he'd always be there for me (yeah, just like he was when we were together?) and if anything ever happened (read: if L. and I ever broke up), to call him. He then attempted a sneaky kiss (I turned the cheek,) hugged me tightly, lingered, and I strutted out and made sure that I worked me heels all the way out to my car, since I knew he was watching from the window.

I want to make it clear that vindictive was the LAST thing I was during the visit. It was really too pleasant on my side, for all that he put me through. But I'm happy with L. know and god knows what kind of girls he's messing around with now. I didn't ask...I didn't want to know. It was just great, after feeling so powerless at the end of our relationship, to have our (most likely last ever) meeting to be one where I held the cards, and left him questioning a lot of things.

We haven't really talked since then and I don't imagine that we will. Though I generally remain friends with my exes, he and I had nothing in common in the first place and probably will never speak again. So in that case, no, we could never be friends.

But that still leaves the problem of Big Relationship. How did we manage to remain best friends after a four-year relationship ended in a very, very non-mutual breakup? Well, I guess that's a story for another time...

Catching Up: Just Friends? Part 1

To start off my new Catching Up Feature, in which I write about times in my life that were slightly more eventful than the present, I thought I'd take on a doozy: Can men and women ever just be friends, as exhibited by my friendship with Big Relationship, my ex and current best friend after 4 years of dating, and the saga of one of the most frustrating and deceptive men I've ever known, Summer Romance.

I'm not sure if I agree with Harry on this one, that men and women cannot just be friends, but it's pretty damn hard. I have two very good examples to back this up. Case point #1 involves the situation of two people who dated at first, and then tried to become friends afterward. Or, aka, Big Relationship and myself. Now, I will tell people that Big Relationship and I are best friends, and we are, in the sense that we've known each other longer than most of our other friends have known us and for five years of our lives we were as close as any two people can ever be. If you've had that, how can you do anything but remain great friends?

So we have, or at least that's what I like to tell myself. But truth be told, our relationship lacks a lot of the makings of a strong male-female friendship, if such a thing even exists. There's an unspoken rule for no flirtation, which everyone knows is a cornerstone to opposite sex interactions. [Or maybe that's just how I manage mine...hmm...] To a degree, I mean. And we just aren't as tender or emotive as we once were, from this sort of invisible wall that I guess we've, well in my opinion he's, put up since the breakup. It's really just a strange dynamic; two people who know and understand each other better than most people ever will, who have an invisible barrier between them.

I bring this all up because I'm seeing Big Relationship this Friday when he comes to see the show I've directed, and also because this summer I saw Summer Romance for the first time in eight months. It wasn't be the first time we've seen each other since we broke up in Summer 2008, but it was the first time we've really gotten to talk about everything that happened between us since. The Summer Romance Saga is a long and complicated one, but I will try to do my best to recap it in a clear, unbiased and most importantly uncomplicated manner, if that's possible:

Summer Romance and I worked together Summer 2008, and always engaged in minor flirtation, but I had heard that he was involved with someone else we both worked with, who we'll call Other Woman, and knew that it would be unwise to get in the middle. Plus, when I met Summer Romance, what is now my infamous Declare My Feelings For L. and Get Shot Down Weekend was coming up, and my mind was totally preoccupied by that. So Summer Romance and I continued our flirtation. I asked him about Other Woman, and he told me they had been hooking up in the spring but that he was single.

So anyways, as we all know I confessed my love for L., he broke my heart, blah blah. (Which, in case you're wondering, I never let him live down.) So when I returned home I was feeling a bit down, clearly. So when Summer Romance asked for my number I thought, well, why not, maybe I'll have a...yup...summer romance, at the least. We had a great connection instantly, even though he was 24, which at first I thought would be a problem. He had also just recently gotten a job as a math teacher at Big Relationship's former high school, which I also thought could be quite awkward, but no, none of these apparent dealbreakers ended up being a problem. The only problem turned out to be Other Woman.

See, Summer Romance may have thought he was single, but Other Woman certainly did not think so. And I, naive hostess who was not privy to the convoluted world of work relationships, did not know any of this. So Summer Romance and I had a few dates and they were going great, and I was (kind of) starting to feel less brokenhearted about L., although truth be told he was never far from my mind. And then the problems started. And continued. I'd overhear Other Woman talking at work about Summer Romance in a very possessive, girlfriend-y sort of way, yet whenever I'd try to bring it up nonchalantly to Summer Romance he'd completely deny all my allegations and make me feel overly jealous, etc, for wondering. So we'd go back to having another great week or so, and then I'd overhear some more Other Woman convos. Or, even worse things. I'd wake up at Summer Romance's apartment after having spent the night, have breakfast, kiss him goodbye, and happily prance (okay, drive) home only to see that Other Woman's fb status would read "Going to lunch with [Summer Romance] and his parents!"

Um, wtf?

I'd then get frustrated and try to end things with Summer Romance, he would fight with me until I didn't, I'd somehow believe him that there wasn't anything going on between them. I'd even explain away the inexplicable things, like the fact that there was mascara smudge on his pillows in the morning even when I'd washed my face the night before. Truth be told, I'm infuriated that I let it go on as long as it did. I'm a little notorious for being picky about the guys I date and ending things not so far in.

So when the hazy days of summer began to draw to a close and my returning to college three hours away from home began to loom menacingly, I begrudginly had "the talk" with Summer Romance about "where this was going." (Ugh.) I put it out there as "we had a fun run, summer fling, keep in touch, go our own ways, etc" and so imagine my shock when he said he wanted to "do the real thing," and have a legit, monogamous (or so I presumed) long-distance relationship. I hesitantly agreed, only to un-agree a few days later after my Other Woman instincts got the best of me. This didn't work, as Summer Romance has a great way of making me doubt my instincts and trust him completely, which is something that NEVER happens with me, and so after a teary, tender and, what I thought to be honest, conversation we decided to really go for it.

Stay tuned for Part Two!

[Image from KnightleyEmma]

Every Girl Should Have One of These When She's Sick

...and by "these" I mean an L.

I'm miserably sick with some sort of mystery illness that I have decided must one of the following four, with justifications why it may be that one:

1. Walking pneumonia, for the pounding headache, chills/crazy body temp (my body feels on fire but I keep crawling under the covers,) and weird ear congestion (?)

2. Mono, for the extreme fatigue I've felt the last few weeks (and have been attributing to working four hours on directing a show, plus classes and work, plus doing work) and the seemingly swollen lymphnode on the right side of my throat. The thermometer doesn't seem to think I have a fever, even though my head feels scorching to me (but that could be because my hands are freezing.)

3. Bronchitis, for the chest-rattling cough that produces some pretty icky mucus, and the aforementioned fatigue.

4. Flu, but most likely not the Wwine, unless I develop a fever, in which case a scary number of my symptoms match up. And Obama did just declare a national sate of emergency for the millions of people who have been infected, which is way higher than I thought we had gotten.

In any case, I do not feel well, and I've been complaining to L., who, rather than tell me to shush or get up off my butt and get stuff myself, has been getting me advil and filling my water bottle from the Brita filter. When he went to the store he said he'd get me some jello since it makes me feel better. Here is what he came back with:


I love him. A lot.

Boston: A Mini Vacation

Now that it's been over a week since L. and I got back from our mini-vacation to visit our good friend Real-Life-Dan-Humphrey, it's probably time to write my post about it!

Fall Semester is always a punch in the gut because after a whopping three months off for summer, it's nearly impossible to re-train your mind to be able to tackle four intense and quite different subjects simultaneously every day, including nights and weekends, and as a result it's pretty easy to feel crushed under the weight of it all. Even though this summer was lonely and way boring at times, I did really enjoy the wake up at 7-work 9 to 5-relax until 11-go to bed and repeat routine for the amount of guaranteed, built-in winding down time it included.

Now that we're back at Williams, there's none of that. A typical day for me can involve class, work at my art musuem, another class, rehearsal, work at my campus job, write a paper, write a newspaper article, sleep, maybe. So with Reading Period (a Monday and Tuesday off before midterms in October), of course the most logical thing for us to do was put off having some free time to catch up on all the work that had piled up, and take a drive down to Boston to visit D.H.

D.H. got a job at a consulting firm out of college, so he's living in Boston with another one of our friends, who we'll just call Mystery Man since we always like to joke that women perceive his silence and dark, brooding looks to mean that he must be the most complicated man on the Earth, and thus flock to him, when in reality he's the most simple guy we've ever known. So L. and I packed our things around 10pm Sunday night, go in L.'s trusty Subaru that got us halfway across the country (our Niagara--Cincinnati--St. Louis roadtrip last summer, which I'll probably do a catch-up post about sometime), and set out on the Mass Pike to see D.H.

D.H. had been visiting his father in NYC that weekend, and so he was coming home on a bus as we were driving. Needless to say we got lost once we got off the Pike, because iPhone GPS is just a defunct piece of technology, so we ended up driving near and around the Dorchester/Roxbury at 1 am. If you know anything about Boston, you know that that is the LAST place in the city you want to be early in the morning/late at night, unless of course you're a lone (and stupid) walker or jogger in the Common.

And indeed, we did run into a menace while we were stopped at a stoplight in the area. Can you guess what?...

To be fair, in all the times I've been in Boston (probably around 50 since my house in NH is about 25-30 mins from the city) I've actually never seen a rat. At all the times of day and in all the areas, from Cambridge to Dorchester. So while gross, I was actually quite intrigued.

Anyways, after avoiding muggers, rapists and the ever-dangerous rodent, we arrived in the Brighton-Allston area, and soon enough D.H. arrived home (after his bus had broken down for the second time in as many times he took it that weekend). He set us up on his cozy sectional sofa--which we both managed to squeeze in on for two nights, although I am NOT sure how that happened--and L. passed out almost immediately. D.H. and I, in the meantime, stayed up until about 4 am catching up--even though he had to get up around 8 for work. You've only gotta admire how much this boy loves a conversation, forsaking sleep and, when he was still at Williams with us, keeping caught up on doing work, to keep it going.

So to bed I went, and briefly opened my eyes around 8:45 to see an equally unhappy D.H. about to leave for work. We gave each other bleary-eyed smiles and I went back to sleep, only to be awakened by a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed L. around 9:30, who had fallen asleep around 2am and thus was much, much less grumpy than me.

L. also didn't heed a woman's advice when I advised him that we should bring our own towels, since two 22-year-old recent college graduates bach-ing it up together would be very unlikely to have extra towels (or pillows! Which L. actually let me bring) for us, so when L. and I got showered for the day I got to use the sloppily wet towel after he took a shower. It really brightened my mood for the day.

Insufficiently dry and exhausted, I nonetheless cheered up a bit and D.H. came home to make a quesadilla (I think it's the only thing he knows how to make) for lunch and watch Sports Center, which L. (and I!) happily joined in on. Then we walked D.H. to work and got on the Prudential stop on the Green Line to head to Faneuil Hall, which is basically god's edible gift to the world.

Of course, no visit to Boston would be complete without stopping in a tacky Boston-inspired gifts store:

Then we made the obligatory visit to Newbury Comics, got some lunch and treated ourselves to dessert in Fanueil Hall: me to Columbo Frozen Yogurt and L. to...New England Clam Chowder. (Hey, I never said I loved him for his taste).

L. apparently-happily indulged me in some shopping by trying on a vest at the Gap while I agonized for about 35 mins over the fact that the Gap Boyfriend Sweater I had been eying at the end of the summer when I took a trip to Connecticut with C. was marked down to $12...but the colors I wanted it in were only available in mediums, and even those were huge! So I settled for a deep purple one that will be prime come Homecoming. Apparently that color is elusive since I haven't been able to find it online anywhere.

Exhausted from a day of T-riding and (me from) shopping, we went back to D.H.'s apartment, where I discovered that Knocked Up (aka my favorite movie of all time) was on TBS or some channel like that, and I was so content to take off my boots and curl up on the sectional that when D.H. arrived home ready to go for a walk around the Charles, I was having none of it.

After relaxing for another hour or so the three of us decided to stop being little girls (well, really the two of them did), and got ready for a night out on the town. D.H. wanted to point out some of his favorite stores, which all included really loud music and too-trendy men that we laughed at him for, and we walked down Newbury Street. After waiting patiently for the boys to play with all the shiny and expensive toys in the Apple Store, they agreed it was time for MY part of the night: going to my favorite Boston restaurant, Fire + Ice.

Fire + Ice is any foodie's dream come true. It's basically a giant donut-shaped grill (I think it's the biggest grill in the US) in the middle of the restaurant with raw bars all around filled with anything for vegans, South Beach Dieters like myself, or just plain old gluttons. There's fresh veggies, beef, poultry, pasta, sausage, seafood, burgers, rice, and so many delicious sauces. You pay one flat rate which is usually around $17 for dinner and get to go up to the grill as many times as you want. It's just glorious. PLUS we had discovered that morning that Monday night was College Night, which meant all-you-can-eat for $11!

Unfortunately, it also meant that around 8:00 on a Monday night, the wait was an hour and 45 mins long, so after getting our line-holder from the World's Bitchiest Host (a guy), we decided to go to Starbucks and wait it out. L.'s expression catches all our sentiments about the matter...

...Except for D.H., who is made as happy by chocolate-y drinks as an eight year old boy...

But his happiness was contagious, and soon enough L. and I cheered up too, although our tummies did not...

After Starbucks we went to go visit L.'s and D.H.'s friend D. McD., who graduated with D.H. and who was a member of L.'s a cappella group. (Here they are in concert. It's great stuff). D. Mc D. is currently living in a converted hotel that's part of the YWCA, which is about as funny as it gets.

FINALLY, it was an hour and a half after they had told us the wait was an hour and forty five minutes, so we headed back, where Bitchy Host told us they had called us "forever ago" and we'd have to wait. I'm sorry, but this is just not acceptable. If a restaurant overquotes your wait time, and you still show up 15 mintues earlier than they told you to, and they STILL tell you they called you "forever ago" and act like it's your fault, ask to speak to the manager. At Applebee's, we're trained to quote 5 mins per every 3 names on the waitlist, and if for some reason I do massively overquote someone, I always make sure to apologize, accept full responsibility, and give them the next available open table.

Anyways, not even terrible host could ruin the Fire + Ice experience for me. It was everything we could have dreamed and more, and after going back up three times and eating bites of the boys' burgers, we headed back to D.H.'s apartment around 10:30 completely stuffed, got out some ice cream, and the three of us settled down on the couch for some quality Gossip Girl time, which of course D.H. had had the foresight to TiVo for us.

We had another late night of chatting with D.H., and grabbed lunch with him in the Pru (Panda Express! Orange Chicken! mmmmmm) before heading back home, hardly relaxed, and certainly more stressed in terms of doing work than before we had gone. (To be fair, though, the paper I hurriedly scrambled to finish Sunday night before we left after making the deal with myself that if I didn't finish it, we couldn't go, got an A, so I'm pleased we went.)

Of course, that was over a week ago and Midterms have since kicked in and proceeded to ruin my life. Although, I did just recently turn in a pretty amazing paper if I do say so myself, during the writing of which I learned that Lincoln was a dirty unconstitutionalist! It was a sad day for American History Loving Michelle, but I think the paper turned out pretty well.

[Images via Fire + Ice, and me, for probably the first time on this blog]