Miles From Fenway

Recipe for Disaster
July 22, 2008, 10:31 pm
Filed under: drinking, friends, travel | Tags: , ,

Take one trip to Hastings, MN. Throw in 20 friends, showering in a river, and more cheddarwurst than you can shake a stick at. Mix in two firsts: first lap dance received, first jet ski ride taken. Douse generously in beer, red bull vodka, and a particularly nasty absinthe bomb. After baking for 5 days in the sun, smoke for four nights by a campfire.

Your end result? A thoroughly neglected blog, a sleep deprived yet contented Kim, and a suitcase whose smell could knock you over when opened.

Enjoy. I sure did.


Emotional Reset
August 15, 2007, 11:25 am
Filed under: baseball, drinking, friends, photos, Red Sox, travel, work

Someone (TomO I think it was you) said at Eddypolusa this year that the annual event is sort of an emotional reset for him. As soon as the words left his mouth I thought: Yes! YES! That’s exactly it.

In years past that reset, that sense of calm has always stayed with me for months. Not so for 2007. Faced with a boss whom I’ve described at length before, I came back and was working weekends, was working on my days off, was driving myself insane. The anxiety I felt between the hours of 9 and 5 was following me home, constantly nipping at my heels.

I was headed for a breakdown and I knew it.

And then the weekend arrived. A weekend that promised the company of some of my guy friends, some baseball, and some beer. Saturday found us in the second row of dead center field at Camden Yards watching Beckett pitch a masterful game – the only one the Sox won in the series. Saturday night there was some Mexican food, many MANY beers, and a lot of entertaining conversation.

After a hangover-curing greasy brunch, there was a surprise sailing trip. 4 guy friends, a cooler full of beer, and my first trip on a sail boat (yes I am the worst Rhode Islander ever). As we floated past the monuments, swam in the placid waters of the Potomac, and talked about absolutely nothing for hours on end, I felt further away from work than I had since my days on the St. Croix.

But a 2am arrival time back in NYC and a morning that came far too fast brought Monday crashing down on my head. And then I did the smartest thing I’ve done in a long time.

I called out sick.

A lazy day of no work, sleep, some tv watching, and more sleep found me sitting in the office yesterday morning with a slight smile on my face as my boss called me insubordinate. For planning a happy hour. After hours. For a coworker who was leaving.

I’d officially figured out how to emotionally reset myself. And damn did it feel good.

Yes, That Was Me You Saw Exiting The Gay Brothel
July 25, 2007, 3:08 pm
Filed under: drinking

My coworker and good friend had just gotten thrown under the bus. And then run over by it. Repeatedly. As she sat in my office with tears sparkling in her eyes I did what any good friend does in a situation like this:

I suggested we go for drinks.

So to Stillwater we traipsed. Located in the East Village, with a good happy hour and outdoor seating it was the perfect location for a nice summer night. Plus you get to play the “who’s going to go in there” game.

The “Who’s going to go in there” game was born when a waitress at the bar informed my girlfriends and I that the parade of men we had seen going in and out of the unmarked door to the bar’s left were customers of a not-so-discreet male brothel. I think you can now guess the rules of the game. Pick a guy out as he walks down the street, make guesses on whether he’s a customer or not.

Flash forward to a few hours after arriving at the bar. My coworker and I have more than a few beers in us, and since those beers were accompanied only by a hummus plate shared between three people, their effects are quite clearly being felt. The decision is made … we were going in.

With my coworker leading the way we confidently opened the door not knowing what to expect. Part of me figured there’d be a bouncer right in side ready to throw out anything with a vagina. Instead we found a well lit stairway painted a bright, if a bit dingy, red and plastered with various movie posters.

At the bottom of the stairs we emerged into … a movie theater lobby? Directly ahead of us was a ticket window and to it’s right a black door. The man behind the window rose from his chair and as my coworker asked for directions to a place that didn’t exist, I started observing certain things. Like the lack of movie times. Or the fact that the theater listings had things like “Theater 1:Comedy” “Theater 2:Film Noir”.

And then I tune into the conversation happening directly in front of me:

Coworker: So what is this place, a movie theater?
Man: Um, ah, no. Eets for zee gays.

So yes, that was me you saw exiting the gay brothel on east 4th street last night. But at least now you know why I was laughing so hard.

A World I Just Can’t Escape
June 4, 2007, 5:52 pm
Filed under: blogging, Boston, college, dating, drinking

I’ve never thought of myself as an internet junkie. I mean, sure, I’ve got my blog. And my myspace page. A few mentions here and there on old job websites, Alzheimer’s Association newsletters, etc. Oh and of course there’s my account on my new favorite time waster:

Then of course there’s the three email addresses. The AIM screen name. The dozens of blogs I read and comment on. I pay my bills almost exclusively online. Hell, I even order my groceries over the internet!

Is there an Internet Addicts Anonymous somewhere out there? Because I think I need to become a member.

Then again, it’s got its upsides. I mean, without the internet, it would have been impossible for the almost instantaneous sharing of photos from the reunion this weekend (one of which features me kissing a gay guy. I’m sure that one will make mom proud). And I never would have met some very good friends I’ve made through this site. I also probably wouldn’t have ended up making a scene in the middle of one of my favorite Boston bars this weekend, but what would the fun in that be?

That’s right, Finy’s got a story about being drunk and making out. Who’s shocked? Yeah that’s what I thought.

I haven’t thought up a moniker for him yet (which he’s going to be VERY disappointed by), but Saturday night found a long-time online friend and fellow blogger and I kind of sheepishly admitting mutual internet crushes on each other. Not going to tell you which one, since he very rarely talks about his personal life on his blog, and far be it for me to out him. But with so many drinks that evening, said admission did lead to making out like horny high school kids in the middle of a very well-lit bar. I’m nothing if not classy.

So while some people may not understand the internet addiction, I think I’ll just ride mine out for a while. As if I ever really thought of escaping it in the first place.

An Exercise in Pictoral Excuses
May 8, 2007, 12:18 am
Filed under: Alzheimer's, baseball, blogging, Boston, dating, drinking, misc., NYC, photos, Red Sox, sports, travel

Yes, I have been absent over the last few weeks, months, etc. But really, I’ve got some pretty good excuses.

First, I went to a Sox game at Yankee Stadium where I watched Dice-K pitch and the Sox win:

And ate a lot of peanuts:

After the game, I got way too wasted when the Twin showed up at Prof. Thom’s after a 6 month absence. But he wasn’t alone, he had the new-me with him. I held it together while at the bar, but the evening ended with me crying on the sidewalk in the Welshman’s arms. Look for a post soon about the rules of post break-up behavior. I think The Twin needs a memo.

So the next day I was hoping the Sox would cheer me up when I attended the second game in the series. That didn’t happen, since they lost, but at least I got to watch Wakefield pitch.

The third game in the series was watched at Thom’s. Much beer was imbibed during the day. And into the night. 12 straight hours of drinking does not a good blogger make:

After a few days break in which I recovered from said weekend, I went to a very swanky and very successful Alzheimer’s Association Junior Committee gala:

At which I was the PICTURE of decorum:

Two days later I was at a Cinco De Mayo party in Boston:

That didn’t end until the sun was rising:

Long story short? I’m such an ass that I am not even going to promise that I’ll be blogging more now (even though I will, no really, I swear).

A Brief Hiatus
February 15, 2007, 12:30 pm
Filed under: Boston, drinking

Well, in just a few hours I’ll be heading, once again, back up to Boston. This isn’t about a job interview (though they’re all going well. And I actually have another one later this morning via phone for yet another nonprofit here in NYC). Nope, this trip is all about relaxing. And, well, most likely getting quite wasted.

This weekend, my friends, is the Winter Summit. 16 of us will converge on Boston from all over the country. We’ll arrive by planes, trains, and automobiles from places like New York, Minnesota, Los Angeles, and Chicago. We’ll eat too much, drink our livers into oblivion, and laugh until our sides hurt. We’ll tell stories that no one gets but us, make scenes wherever we go, and basically make the city of Boston our bitch for five days.

God, I’m excited. Let the partying commence!

It Really IS A Small World After All
January 29, 2007, 7:37 pm
Filed under: dating, drinking, misc., NYC, Unemployment

It’s a small, small world.

The song has been running through my head lately (and now probably through at least a few of yours). It’s easy to think that in a city of a couple million people it would be easy never to run into people, never to have that kind of random coincidence type of moment. But in the last week, I’ve had more than my fair share. Luckily, all of them were in a good way.

Thursday of last week, I went out to drinks with my Philly Fan Friend (Let’s call her PFF for short) for drinks. While we were out playing darts we ran into a guy that works at the company that I had my first job out of college. In and of itself, not random, right? Thing is this guy is based out of Boston, is rarely in NYC and just happened to be staying at a hotel across the street. Add to that that he is about four rungs up on the corporate ladder than I was when I was there, and just happened to be handed the resignation of one of his team members just hours before seeing me, and you’ve got a very productive coincidence. He asked me to send him my resume, which he has since passed on for consideration. Small world episode number one.

The other two both happened on Saturday night. The Midwesterner, The Guy Magnet and I went out for a night on the town that night. Just out of the relationship with Barnard Boy, wearing my glasses, and not feeling all that up to trolling for men, I was going along as the wingwoman. I just needed to get out of my apartment.

A few hours into the evening we’re leaving a bar and I run into an exroommate, her boyfriend, and their friend (hi guys!) who I hadn’t seen in ages. I had never been to the bar we were at, and we were just leaving as they were coming in, but it was fantastic to see them and remind myself that I really should give them a ring to hang out soon. Small world occurrence number two.

Number 3 is really the most bizarre though. That same night, at our third bar of the evening, I am starting to get sick of this scoping men out thing. Since I wasn’t in the mood to meet anyone for myself and the girls were pretty focused on it, I was getting a bit bored. So I separate from them for a few minutes and head out to have a cigarette where a guy asks me for a light. We start talking, and yes, ok, kind of flirting, and he and his friend join the girls and I for a drink inside. As this guy and I are talking I ask him where he’s from.

Guy: Rhode Island.
Finy: No way, me too. Where in RI?
Guy: Barrington.
Finy: *Stunned Silence*

He’s from my hometown. No joke, we went to middle school together. We don’t remember each other, but MUST have had some of the same classes because we had all the same teachers, and we’re the same age/class (though he went to private high school while I continued on in the public school system). We know some of the same people, and our houses were probably a mile and a half apart. We spent the next THREE HOURS talking about home, who we knew, retelling stories from middle school, where we go when we go home now, etc. etc. etc. I left the bar that night and still couldn’t believe it.

Moral of this story: “Though the oceans divide and the mountains are wide, it’s a small world after all.”