What Actually Happened in Vegas Sunday, Mar 29 2009 

The inspiration for this entry comes from a quote that Lisa said at dinner last night:

“He swung at Grant and Grant punched him three times in the face and Grant and Alexa ran and hid and you went to to the IP and Beth and I were dancing with Mormons!”

Vegas.  In a nutshell.  That sums up that night so well.

That night was so crazy, we hadn’t really figured out exactly what went down until last night.  Alexa and Grant, who live in DC, flew up to Boston for the Duke game, so we grabbed dinner at Not Your Average Joe’s.  This was the first time that the five of us had hung out together since the Vegas trip.

Here’s what happened that night:

We went to XS, the brand-new nightclub at the Encore (we were there for its second weekend open!).  I think I’d go so far to say that it’s my favorite club in Vegas.  Just gorgeous.

Here are the five of us after quite a bit of dancing:

Here’s the video of us (which NEVER gets old!):

And now, the trouble:

There was a weird guy at the club who wanted to get with one of us — we weren’t really sure which one.  He tried to move in on us and Grant told him to back off.

That’s the guy on the left.

After that, the guy did the weirdest thing.  He stepped back, and from about 10 feet away, just STARED at the back of Grant’s head with an intense expression in his eyes.  He didn’t move for at least 30 seconds.

I started to freak out.

And then, apparently after I left the club and Lisa and Beth were dancing with Mormons (who weren’t drinking and made comments about a “hotbed of sin”), the guy took a swing at Grant.

He missed.

Grant punched him three times in the face.

Security kicked the other guy out!!!  They must have seen the first attempted punch.

And THAT is how you end a night in Vegas.  Well, I kid, I kid.  That’s way too early for a night to end in Vegas.  We ended up staying up all night before jumping on a 7:30 AM flight back to Boston.

The Pickup Artist Sunday, May 4 2008 

Oh my God, let me begin by saying that I just got back from a nightmarish commute home from the bar.  I left Hynes at about 12:15 AM and immediately got a Red Line train to Alewife at Park Street.

Between Harvard and Porter, the train just stopped for 15 minutes.  Just stopped.  As I listened to song after song on my iPod, I watched everyone get aggravated, especially since the sound system wasn’t great and we couldn’t decipher any of the announcements.

After that, the train spent several minutes lurching a few inches, then stopping, then lurching a few inches, then stopping.  It felt like we were trying to get over bumps.

They let us off at Porter, telling us that all trains were out of service.  This was one stop away from where I needed to be!

I knew getting a cab would be nearly impossible during this time of night, even on Mass. Ave., so I waited for a bus.  (This is major for me, considering that I have NEVER taken a bus in Boston that wasn’t a temporary shuttle.)  A bus never came.

I hopped into a cab with two other people trying to get to Alewife and I just had the driver drop me off on the corner of my street and Mass. Ave., walking the rest of the way back.  The other passengers were amused when I pointed out where I had seen Owen Wilson earlier today.

But I digress.

I met the WORST PICKUP ARTIST OF MY LIFE tonight.

I went to Match in the Back Bay with Esther, Lauren and Laura.  The place has a nice atmosphere, though the martinis aren’t strong at all (I had two and I didn’t even feel a buzz) and the prices are a bit high.  They could also stand to spend extra money on the bathrooms.

The bar was really crowded, so I went to get a drink on my own first.  I squeezed in next to a guy who looked like a young Sean Penn with black hair and a goatee.

Guy: “You are so beautiful.”

Me: “Thanks.”

Guy: “I love your eyes.”

Me: “Thank you.”

Guy: “I’m Michael.  What’s your name?”

Me: “Lisa.” [Sorry, Lisa!!  It was the first name I could think of!]

Guy: “I live right here.  Where do you live?”

Me: “You live in this bar?  Funny, I grew up here, but I now live at a watering hole down the street.”

Guy: “I love the shape of your face.” (Starts leaning over and brushes his goatee against my shoulder.  He repeats this twice over the course of our conversation.)

Me: (Nothing.)

Guy: “I love your lips.  Can I talk to you?”

Me: “Well, this is a bar, lots of people, lots to discuss, yay!”

Guy: “Can I see you again, Miss Ulley?” (He had leaned over, reading my partially obscured ID.)

Me: “Listen, as awesome as this conversation is, I’m going back to my friends.”

Guy: “When will I see you again?”

Ugh.

Right after me, Esther went up.

Guy: “You look like my cousin.  My cousin is hot.”

After that, Laura got hers.

Guy: “I love you.”

When Lauren went up, she made sure to stand far, far away.

Ugh.  He could have at least bought us a drink.

I’m really in the mood to go dancing again.  I haven’t been in months.  Maybe next weekend.

“Try recycling the newspaper.” Jackass. Friday, Mar 28 2008 

I read the Metro every morning on my way to work, though it’s biased, limited and full of errors.  It’s free; they literally put it into your hands each morning.

I finish the paper somewhere around Park Street and get off the train at South Station.  I, along with everyone else, would dispose of it by throwing it in the trash.  Surprisingly, South Station had no recycling bins — until a few days ago.

A new recycling bin was added next to my default trash can.  Perfect!  I started throwing my newspaper in the bin, along with everyone else.

Yesterday, however, I didn’t recycle it.  I didn’t even realize I forgot to recycle it — it was early, I hadn’t slept much over the past few nights, and I was pretty out of it.  Out of habit, I must have thrown it in the trash can by mistake.

How do I know this?

Because as soon as I got to the top of the stairs, a middle-aged guy turned to me, gave me a dirty look and said, “Try recycling the paper.”

Are you kidding me?!

What a jackass!

Yes, I forgot to recycle my paper yesterday.  It was an honest mistake.

But let me tell you something — that guy has no idea that I am environmentalist who no longer eats meat, who rarely drives, who is planning to buy a hybrid if she can ever afford a new car, who adopted a manatee back when newspapers had to clarify that it was “an endangered marine animal,” and who participated in her first environmental protest at the age of six!

And who the hell does he think he is?  Does he go around yelling at people?  He waited until we got ALL THE WAY UP THE STAIRS before he said something to me!  He had time to think it over!

I said nothing back.  I was too shocked.  (My friends say I should have yelled back at him.)

Okay, guy.  Thanks to your overt rudeness, I will make sure that I never zone out in the morning and accidentally throw my paper in the trash again.

I just hope you know that your attitude is far more poisonous than the environmental damage I could ever cause.

Fantastic Words Friday, Apr 13 2007 

I don’t know what y’all be thinking when you bring them round me
Let me remind you that I AM THE KING OF R&B
Do you know what that means?
That means if you love your chick
Don’t bring her to the VIP —
Cause I might leave with your chick!

Fuck me, I love me some R. Kelly….but seriously, he makes it too easy.

Life, recently Saturday, Sep 23 2006 

Sars came home for the night and we went to see Jackass Number Two. Oh my God….now THAT is a movie you should see in a huge theater on opening night, even more so than Snakes on a Plane. I almost threw up twice — and I don’t do that, ever!! That was from two segments: “How to Milk a Horse” and “The Fart Helmet.” So disgusting.

But other than that, the movie was AWESOME. I love Jackass. It’s a family favorite (my mom is actually a pretty big fan of it, especially the Party Boy). I love going to movies where you can laugh and scream the whole time — last night was a great catharsis to a chaotic week.

Work is still going well, and this week I’ve spoken French, Italian and Spanish as well as a few Portuguese phrases. I did a lot of research for something in Brazil and I’ve found out that I can actually read Portuguese really easily. Unfortunately, though, I think I have to downgrade my Spanish knowledge to “reading only,” rather than ability to speak it. It’s very bad.

And there’s this video that you have to see. Apparently it was designed for Japanese people learning English, but it is SO HORRIBLE that I don’t think it can do anything….oh my God….you must check this out.

And the conductor, the one who talked to me and keeps saying I’m attractive and all that, gave me a schedule on the way to work the other day. I didn’t think anything of it (I’m SO GULLIBLE!) and just put it in my purse, not even thinking to open it until I was at work. Inside it had his name and phone number, plus “Smile!” and a smiley face. He doesn’t think I smile enough. Which is interesting, because yesterday, after showing this to Mike and Ian at work, Ian told me that the thing he noticed about me was that I was always smiling. Interesting.

I am so exhausted. This week just took so much out of me. Ordinarily I’d be getting all ready to go out and go crazy, but at the moment, the perfect weekend would be just sitting back, writing, reading my awesome book (“High School Confidential” by Jeremy Iversen — you should check it out; it’s much better than I thought it was going to be) and being a lump.

Also, Kara left for Bolivia a few days ago. She’ll be volunteering in Cochabamba for at least five months. 😦 I’m sad — I’m really going to miss her. But she’s going to be having some unbelievable adventures. And she’ll be surely meeting cute guys from all over the world. But best of all, she’s going to have a blog. So Kara, YOU BETTER BE WRITING IN IT ALL THE TIME!!!

In terms of going abroad and having adventures, I know that that’s something I have to do down the road. Living abroad again, for a longer time and in a much more authentic environment than I lived in in Florence. Before I’m 30, hopefully. Just eventually.

I also figured out that if I keep saving $100.00 each week and not spend any of it, after four years I’ll be able to afford a decent yearlong trip around the world. (In the book “One Year Off”, by David Elliot Cohen, which I love, a family of six traveled around the world for a year for $120,000.00. Granted, that was 10 years ago, but I think I could do it reasonably for $20,000.00.) If I save for two years instead, I think I could still do a yearlong trip — I’d just have to spend more time in cheaper areas, like Latin America and Southeast Asia, do a lot of couch-surfing, and stay out of Europe and Japan. That could be just as or even more rewarding than a more expensive trip, though.

And I’d be alone.

That’s what it’s coming down to. I know I’m an extremely independent person, and there’s nobody whose company I could take for that amount of time (except for my sister). Even if I have a decent boyfriend by then. I remember when we were in Budapest and shared a room with a young Australian couple. The guy kept talking to us, and us only, and his girlfriend was upset that he was ignoring her. He was probably just sick of her after traveling the world with her for months.

Oh well.

This is several years down the road, so I shouldn’t even be thinking about that.

Update Saturday, Sep 16 2006 

Well, I actually talked to the conductor who told me I was pretty the other day. I hadn’t spoken anything to him at all since he told me that, only saying, “Good morning,” or “Good night,” since a few days a week he’s on both the trains I take.

But on the way to the 5:52 train home yesterday, he beckoned me over and introduced himself — his name is Lewis. I told him my name, and he commented that I looked “really mad” the day before, so he didn’t say anything. I told him that I wasn’t mad, I was just upset, since some bad stuff had happened at work that day. He then told me that he’d like to get to know me, since I was very attractive and all. Well.

We chatted a minute more and I got on the train. And after I got off in Wakefield, I was walking to my car and as the train went by, he leaned off the platform with his arm outstretched, waving, like something out of a movie! I giggled, but it was embarrassing.

The conductor really is a nice guy — he’s just absolutely not my type. (You know I’d be all over that if he were. As Erica said, “Tap that! I want you to conquer the entire city!”) I just wish he’d stop saying the stuff about my looks — while getting compliments is nice, it does make me uncomfortable.

I’ve been thinking that it might be time for a visit to Fairfield. I know that school just started, but I’d really like to go and see my friends! If my favorite guys would have me, of course. 😉 I’d make you guys some of that pappa al pomodoro that you ate the whole pot of that night!

I did mention that I had a bad day at work — but it was mostly just because of worrying about something that there’s probably no need to worry about. The job, otherwise, has been really, really awesome. I love it. I’m working hard, speaking French and Italian, getting compliments, and having a good time. It’s a great place to be.

I also got Justin Timberlake’s new CD, FutureSex/LoveSounds. It’s really good. There are a few duds, as there are on every album, but I really like SexyBack, My Love, LoveStoned/I Think She Knows, and Damn Girl. People are saying that this album is pure Prince, but I think LoveStoned is more like “Bad”-era Michael Jackson. Let me tell you, Timbaland has the Midas touch right now. First Nelly Furtado, and now this whole album. Check it out.

Going now — still enjoying life very much. 🙂

Something I Like Sunday, Sep 10 2006 

I like those Yahoo! Personals banners that read “Did you forget how fun it is to flirt?”

Flirting is great.

I really have nothing to say that’s worth an entry….I did check out an apartment for the first time on Friday after work. It was in a great location — Somerville, about 12 minutes from Davis Square, which would be PERFECT (great area, plus enough of a walk to get some decent exercise twice a day). But aside from the apartment’s absolutely gorgeous three-legged cat (I’m serious), it wasn’t what I was looking for.

I’ve been thinking about Florence — I really did love a lot about living with eight people. Of course, it became much more complicated than that because we were essentially each other’s primary social life (since we were so far from all the other Fairfield students). I’d love to live with a lot. And I saw an awesome ad on Craigslist for a huge house — but it seemed so good, they probably won’t get back to me.

My mom had a housewarming party yesterday — good fun. I played piano (just requests — did Let It Be, Yesterday, Piano Man (ugh) and So Far Away). Good food. And Sars came home for a few hours — I grabbed her and screamed and told her I wasn’t going to let go of her again. We’re going to have lunch on Friday, since her classes are over by 9:45 or so. Probably just South Station.

Kara and I went out to the Rattlesnake on Boylston St. the other night, as well as the Cactus Club for dinner. Both were fun, and the Rattlesnake has a really great deck on the roof, but we found that it was really the financial crowd — as in, “Are all the guys here gay or just accountants?” We did talk to a really cute guy for awhile, and he seeked US out (we were standing on the other side of a partition and he told us that he felt such distance between us and wanted to get closer). His name was Scott, he worked for a fishing company, he was blonde (and I don’t usually like blondes) and he was around thirty or so.

Unfortunately, talking to him meant talking to his unattractive, annoying friend as well. And he talked much more than Scott did.

One thing that I can’t stand is when people purposely exaggerate their Boston accents to make them sound cooler. It is OBVIOUS in a second when the fake accent kicks in. And this guy, the friend, he mentioned “Stahhh Trek.” Yeah. Awful. Most Boston accents have at least a hint of an essence of an R — I read about it on a site about regional linguistics. It’s like the R in “third” that is pronounced, only much fainter, and it’s extremely difficult for a non-native to master. (Which is why I’m not exactly looking forward to seeing anyone but Matt Damon and Mark Wahlberg in The Departed next month.) But it’s SO ANNOYING!!

We left before them and went our separate ways (and let me add that I can’t wait until the orange line starts running on weeknights again, rather than the scarybus from Haymarket). Now, I have a bit of a hobby — reading the “Missed Connections” board on Craigslist. A lot of them are entertaining! And this is probably the most self-centered thing I’ve ever said, but YOU NEVER KNOW if someone might post something about you. After all, I’ve been making steady eye contact with this guy at North Station every morning as we wait for the inbound orange line train….he’s kind of cute….

Anyways, I saw one that read, “Southie: Did Kara get home all right? Posting as you left in a hurry last night. Hope you made it home okay.” Now, I did tell him I worked in Southie but didn’t tell him where….I don’t know. Kara wasn’t falling-over drunk but she had had a few drinks — she was getting picked up. I had to drive home from Oak Grove, so I wasn’t drinking. And this was posted the morning after we were out.

It could be him.

At any rate, I hope it was the cute guy and not the creepy guy.

So that’s what it was Saturday, Sep 2 2006 

Got the 5:52 train yesterday again, and that conductor was there again, said hi to me as I got on, whatever. Then as I get off in Wakefield, he goes, “You’re very pretty.” I said thanks, and with that, I need to find a new train.