A Social Experiment
[Read: I Was Bored And Under the Mild Influence of Alcohol...]
Not too long ago, I blogged about being lonely in Boston because all my friends had moved away after graduation. Two posts ago, actually. And yes, I linked to it. Sue me.
Very shortly after that, my roommates and I were spending a quiet evening in, enjoying some wine . . . and some more wine. Typically when this occurs we are more easily amused than usual, and perhaps a tiny bit reckless (but never to the point of waking up the next morning severely regretting the previous evening’s activities).
For whatever reason we were discussing the Cultural Reference Guru’s boyfriend’s roommate, whom we were betting included his delightful dog in pictures for his online dating profiles (we lead very, very exciting lives). We were all so convinced, that the only reasonable course of action would be to hunt this man down on said dating site. While the Guru began thinking of preferences that would include the chap in search results, I decided to fill out the personality profile, just to see who would turn up. After five minutes wasted on Likert scale questions, I thought of a better way to spend my very valuable time: answer the same questions on a site that wouldn’t ask me for money.
I had seen various adverts in MBTA stations for PlentyOfFish.com, which promises to delete users who are unfit to date. However, like most ads wallpapering mass transit stations, I had more or less blocked it from conscious memory. However, a month or so earlier, a friend had mentioned that she’d actually met someone interesting on the site, and that had placed it back on my radar.
That moment, there with my roommates, a little on the unrealistically boisterous side, seemed like as good a time as any to sign up:
“Whatever, I have nothing better to do! I’m signing up!”
My other roommate, the Globetrotter, saw the potential situation I was getting myself into and reacted accordingly:
“Wait, it’s free!? Let’s do it!”
Another ten minutes of Likert scale questions later, the Globetrotter and I were supposed to draft our profiles. We had to pitch ourselves to the masses of eligible singles.
Slap-happy drunk. Clearly we were making our best and brightest decisions.
Way too much time later, I had set up my profile . . . 100% free of typographical errors.
Two minutes later, I had three messages. It must have been the marabou-trimmed pirate hat in my picture.
. . . And after glancing at the hour, you’re going to have to check back later for all the fun characters who have contacted me so far. It’ll be a good way to kill time. Promise.
Tonight’s Tunes
Aha Shake Heartbreak, Kings of Leon
Only By the Night, Kings of Leon
Today I Learned . . .
Today I learned that I have blog fodder. Stay tuned . . .
Getting Reacquainted with Routine
It’s been a while since I’ve been able to depend on much anything in terms of normality around here. Ever since my last semester, things have been all over the place for me. Questions kept me up at night, and legitimate questions – none of this, “Omigod, WHAT am I going to wear to my job interview tomorrow!?” It was more like, “Oh God, I hope I HAVE a job interview tomorrow. My time line of questions went similarly as follows:
“Will I graduate this year?”
“If I graduate, what on Earth am I going to do once I get that hot piece of paper in my hands?”
“Oh my God, I have to convince someone that I’m worth hiring?”
“How am I going to do that?”
“I have to find a place to live?”
“I have to find another place to live on September 1?”
Eventually, all of these questions were matched up with mostly reassuring answers, but most of the summer was spent being unsure of just about everything. Once life suggested that it could start settling down in September, I took a look around and asked myself what I could go back to that was normal. Most of my friends from my graduating class (including my former roommates) had moved on to different states or hemispheres following graduation. Those who remained at BU as underclassmen operated on an entirely different schedule than I did as an aspiring Corporate Barbie. Since I stepped off the dance floor, many of my friends from that realm have moved on with their own lives, as well. I was so eager to stay in Boston because everything I knew was here, yet somehow, even though I managed to land on my feet here, all those things I stayed for are gone (or at least the vast majority – I’m not totally alone).
It’s so surreal: I feel as though I’ve arrived just as I did a little over four years ago, but I 
don’t have the same means of making friends that I did before: no campus groups, no freshmen field trips, no class projects, no swarms of over-eager dormitories rushing to add everyone in the building on Facebook. True, my office job is beyond fantastic and I enjoy the company of everyone in the office (honestly, too – I’ve not met a single person in the agency that I dislike, which is incredibly refreshing), but I’m still The Intern. It’s not that I’m not permitted to address my superiors, but at the same time, I don’t know how I feel about approaching them for nonprofessional reasons quite yet. Meanwhile, the kids at the coffee shop where I still work are all good people, and I wouldn’t mind grabbing a beer with some of them, but we’re all on different schedules (it being part-time and all). That, and most of them are not of legal drinking age in this country.
What’s a gal to do? I’m not stressing too much yet: I only just got rewired last week, and I am sure that there are still some people in Boston that I know and like. I just have to dig them up. In the mean-time, feel free to drop suggestions on how to reacquaint oneself with a suddenly foreign city!
Tonight’s Tunes
“Tengo la Voz,” Nortec Collective
“Chambermaid Swing,” Parov Stelar
“Mariposa en Havana,” Si*Sé
“Con Mi Sombra,” S-Tone, Inc.
“Beatbox Cha Cha,” Ursula 1000
“Maria Jose,” Frederico Aubele
“Polaris,” Zero 7
“Sometimes,” Si*Sé
“En Mi Soledad,” Campo
“Tea for Two,” Pink Martini
“Moody,” Bitter:Sweet
Today I Learned . . .
Today, I learned that I do not like salt and vinegar potato chips. However, it seems a waste to discard a newly opened bag . . .
Time to Get Back Into This
Once again, I’ve managed to drop of the face of the blogosphere. In my defense, I haven’t had Internet access since July. Stuff happens when you change apartments.
A lot has happened since my last post, but only a couple of instances are worth noting: the above-mentioned, and that I’m working with a new PR agency in Government Center. Both are pretty awesome.
Unfortunately (or fortunately, I suppose, but if that’s the case then why would you waste time reading this blog?), I’m at a loss for more remotely interesting words. My goal tonight was to post on the blog, which I’ve done, albeit unimpressively. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll actually post on a topic. Stay tuned.
Tonight’s Tunes
“Faena,” Gipsy Kings
“Fuego,” Robert Michaels
“Costa Brava,” Armik
Pressed Sandwiches at Government Center
One of the many delightful aspects of my internship is its location in Government Center, which features history, scenery, tourists, shopping, and of course, good eats. Er, at least one good eat: I visited Pressed Sandwiches on Oliver St. after my interview with 451 Marketing and I haven’t ventured elsewhere yet.
Pressed boasts delicious, healthy paninis made with fresh ingredients – most notably, their artichokes. While I’m no artichoke fanatic, I’ve got to admit: those sandwiches are pretty darned amazing. My goal is to eventually try each menu option at least once, which is only encouraged by my possession of another tally card: purchase 10 salads or sandwiches and the next purchase is free (another score for the poor starving college grad!). I’ve made decent progress, but the going is slow since I’m only around for lunch at 451 once or twice a week. Below are some of the small delights of Pressed that I’ve sampled, and what I’ve thought.
Cuban - marinated pork, ham, Swiss cheese, pickles, chipotle mayo, slaw, on ciabatta. As far as I’ve encountered, the perfect Cuban. I really can’t handle overly spicy foods, and I’m wary of chipotle after more than a couple unpleasant encounters. Pickles in mass quantities aren’t really my deal either, and by now you’re probably wondering, “Geez, why’d she bother ordering it!?” Because I’m a wild and crazy risk-taker, that’s why. As you may have guessed, the payoff was worth it: the Cuban is just zingy enough, and the pickles are sliced nearly paper-thin, offering a subtle suggestion of flavour. It was my wonderous gateway sandwich.
Italian Chicken – marinated grilled chicken, fresh mozzarella, oregano, roasted red peppers, on ciabatta. As far as Italian chicken sandwiches go, not bad at all. Perhaps a bit much mozzarella, though.
Chicken Pesto - marinated grilled chicken, fontina, roasted artichokes, pesto, on parmesan focaccia. Pretty flippin’ delicious. No complaints about this one.
There’s more, but it’s late and I have a job interview in the morning. Wish me luck, and to be continued!
Tonight’s Tunes
The Mating Game, Bitter:Sweet
“The Mating Game (Blackjoy Remix),” Bitter:Sweet
Tonight’s Distraction
Empire Records
Tossed Salads at the Prudential Center
I have a new culinary love in life: the salad creations of Tossed in the Prudential Center. This comes as a surprise to me. It’s not that I don’t enjoy salads, but I’ve never really considered them an outstanding food personality, and under no circumstances would I ever have chosen one over, say, a porterhouse steak when it came to filling the black hole that is sometimes known as my stomach.
Until now.
Once upon a time, our blogger was frolicking through the Pru for some reason or other (after a moment’s thought, I recalled that I had been taking advantage of a sale elsewhere in the vicinity) when she suddenly realised that she was a touch on the ravenous side. She considered visiting the Cheesecake Factory to take advantage of the bar menu until remembering that she’d need to wait an hour to do so, so she instead meandered through another arcade in the shopping center, vaguely recalling the existence of a decent salad joint that may be worth her patronage.
Suffice to say, the patronage was well earned. Not only are the salads scrump-diddly-uptious, but they’re filling! The first salad I ordered was a cobb (baby field greens, crisp hearts of romaine, freshly roasted chicken, grape tomatoes, avocado, smoked bacon, roasted onions and crumbled blue cheese with blue cheese dressing). My plan had been to have a light, early dinner so that I wouldn’t feel lethargic later on when I wanted to swim. A salad would be perfect.
Oh, how wrong I was. Perhaps it had to do with the mass quantities of blue cheese, but not only was the salad filling – I couldn’t finish it. People who’ve known me for more than one meal know that I could probably polish off an entire goat, yet, I had discovered the David to the Goliath of my stomach. I tried to finish that salad. I really did. It was delicious, and I absolutely hate not cleaning my plate when it’s decorated with good eats. While humbling, the experience was also surprisingly satisfying: after all, since when have I considered salads to be acceptable meals? Oh, that’s right: never.
My second visit to Tossed took place less than a week later, and I arrived prepared (read: starving and eager to merit wearing my fat pants). This time I ordered the apple walnut salad: crisp hearts of romaine, freshly roasted chicken, apples, crumbled blue cheese, walnuts, golden raisins and honey balsamic vinaigrette. I had more success with this attempt, only leaving a few large crumbles of blue cheese and perhaps a golden raisin or two, but I still have yet to finish an entire Tossed salad. Luckily, the nice people who work there have given me a nifty little card that receives a hole-punch with each salad I purchase: after six, my next salad is free.
What’s not to like?
Tonight’s Tunes
“B.O.B.,” OutKast
“Ms. Jackson,” OutKast
“Morris Brown,” OutKast featuring Scar & Sleepy Brown
“Hey Ya!” OutKast
“The Way You Move,” OutKast
Friday Crimes at O’Brien’s
Tonight, Friday Crimes will be performing at O’Brien’s Pub in Allston at 11.00. For those of you who were unaware, Friday Crimes is a local heavy rock and blues band. And, they’re pretty awesome. Check it out! 21+, $7.00 cover.
Also, check out the Friday Crimes Facebook event for a little more info.
Today I Learned . . .
Today I learned that a beer at the end of the day may not eliminate the agony of having been on my feet for approximately 10 hours, but it sure does dull it. Cheers.
Tonight’s Distraction
My bubbly roommate getting ready to go out. She reminds me that I am too old and crotchety to go out more than two nights a week.
Considering a Return to the Dance Floor
This weekend, I managed to escape my part-time job briefly to catch some of my friends compete at the Yankee Classic, held at the Boston Marriott Cambridge. As some of you may recall, I used to enjoy competing myself not too long ago, but I had to take an indefinite hiatus from dancing in order to focus on more pressing matters . . . such as as graduating. Obviously I would have loved to have stuck with the dancing, but I’ve been surviving well enough without it. While I was excited about seeing my friends dance again, once I arrived at the competition, I was reminded of all the things I didn’t miss: fake tanning, expensive entry fees, pre-comp stress, hordes of ill-behaved children, and other less delightful aspects. For most of Friday night, I was firmly convinced that I would never get into competitive dancing again. Yes, I miss dancing, and I’ve been making more appearances at social venues, such as Ryles Jazz Club, Balera School of Ballroom Dance (my fantastic dance studio), and, once this rain lets up, Spice Bokx at Hotel Indigo on Monday nights. I really haven’t been experiencing any competition longings.
That is, until late Friday night, or perhaps on Saturday night. Seeing all of my friends celebrating their competitive and performance victories left me feeling slightly left out, and many of my acquaintances from the dance realm asked me when I would be returning to the competition circle. I wasn’t planning on it, but I do miss wearing those pretty dresses . . .
So, here it goes: gentlemen, if you are a Standard dancer over 5′7″, and would be interested in practising and maybe competing Amateur, shoot me a message.
I’m not expecting anything any time soon, but I’ll keep you all posted.
Tonight’s Tunes
“Love of My Life,” Santana Feat. Dave Matthews
“Don’t You (Forget About Me),” Simple Minds
“Lady (Club Mix),” Modjo
“Say It Right,” Nelly Furtado
“Lebanese Blonde,” Thievery Corporation
