You can have your cake and eat it too, but you can't eat other people's icing!

So this story was from a while ago, but it was extraordinarily ridiculous so it deserved to get a spot on the blog. It was one of my girlfriends birthdays, and we decided that instead of everyone spending lot's of money by going out to dinner we would cook for everyone (then spend out hard earned money at the bars - where it's meant to be spent).


So my roommate Amanda and I made a lasagna, salad, and appetizers for 15 people. But the piece de resistance was a beautiful cake we baked, double layered with icing of course. We enjoy cooking and entertaining so this wasn't a problem at all. Everyone was having a good time eating, drinking and socializing before we hit the bars. There was no ridiculous to report until we decided to sing Happy Birthday and break out that gorgeous cake.


Let me preface this by saying that no one sounds good when they sing Happy Birthday, but no one is supposed to. It's not about sounding good, it's about making your friend that you're singing to uncomfortable and embarrassed. So it's noticeable when someone singing is making a significant effort to sound good. By singing opera style for example.


Again, it wouldn't have been anything ridiculous if this person was joking, and singing opera style in a terrible way. Unfortunately this person was a trained opera singer, singing her annoying heart out, upstaging everyone (including the birthday girl) and in general being ridiculous.


But the fun doesn't stop there. If it was just the singing I doubt it would have been blog worthy. This girl happened to be a vegetarian. When we first sent out invitations for the gathering she said she wasn't coming, so we didn't bother making a vegetarian dish. To her credit she didn't make a big deal out of it. But I would have rather her thrown a fit than do what she ended up doing.


So post ridiculous singing, we cut slices of cake and it was a pretty typical birthday scene. All of a sudden we notice that while there is still half a cake left, there is no icing left. The opera girl literally ate ALL OF THE ICING OFF OF THE CAKE. Who does that??? Take another piece if you want more!! Not only did she remove the icing off of the cake to the point where no one would want any more (what's the point of cake with no icing?) but she also USED HER FINGERS to eat the icing. She literally dragged her finger across the cake taking the icing, licked the icing off of her finger, and put her spit covered finger BACK ON THE CAKE.


This is not acceptable behavior. Not at a birthday party, not at someone's house, not ever. Keep your ridiculous, yucky habits confined to your own cake. Bleh.


So remember, everyone is ridiculous, including opera singing, vegetarian eating, icing thieves.

Additionally this video is from that night. While the entire video is entertaining, what you really want is at the 1:18 mark. It's at this point that my friend Mischa points out how the icing was eaten off the cake, it shows the cake, and it showcases her (and everyone else's) displeasure at this event occurring. Enjoy!

Really, realtors? Really!?

As anyone who lives in Boston knows the time of year people start looking for their new apartments is January - February. My roommates and I have (sadly) decided not to stay in the wonderful place we've called home the last 2 years. Unfortunately for us, that means realtors and the potential new renters are constantly in and out of here.

We have a few simple rules the realtors have to abide by, since we are living here still, and they just can't seem to get them right. 1) Please call us before you come over. This is important because sometimes only one of us is home. And if we know a realtor is coming at six, we will shower before or after they get here. Otherwise they may show up, knock, us not hear them because we are in the shower, and then they let themselves in with a bunch of strangers. (This actually happened to one of my roommates.) Uncool realtors!!! 2) Turn off the lights when leaving. I know it seems strange that someone would not do this, but multiple times we have come home to all of the lights being on in the house. I'm sorry, are you paying our electric bill this month? 3) Close the door when you first walk in. I can't tell you how many times I open the door to let them in, and they don't close it behind them. So, I guess you are paying our heat in addition to our electric?

If all this isn't ridiculous enough, they also lie. A lot. This I would say is the only upside to having them constantly be in our home. We get to hear the ridiculous stuff they tell their potential renters, and then call them out on it. Or laugh at them. Whatever. It's fun for us.

So there are my two favorite insane realtor lies. We have on realtor who comes here almost everyday. He is AWFUL. Like, truly a terrible realtor. So he's bringing in this one group of girls and he's not a very good salesperson. Our apartment is really nice, it pretty much sells itself. So they make a comment on the paint (we painted our living room purple, it's pretty cool) and how nice it is. The realtor starts going on and on and on about how the landlord had professional painters come in and do it whatever color we want. Also tells them that he might do it for them too if they wanted a different color. We're all literally sitting there while he says this, slack jawed at the lies he's spewing. Finally we speak up and are just like, uuuh WE painted this. Give credit where credit is due damnit!!! But really, we just wanted to call him out on lying. Of course he back pedaled to the girls, but it was kind of hilarious.

Then the same realtor comes back with a different group the next week. Now we are all just waiting for the next set of lies. He does tell the new group that we did the painting, thank God we don't have to call him out on that again. Now I guess this group only had 3 people, and it' a 4 bedroom apartment. So instead of him telling them to maybe find a 4th person because it's such a great find, he went another route. He starts going on and on about how the 4th bedroom is basically its own apartment, and they can sublet it like that.

Now the 4th bedroom he's talking about is a nice room, no doubt about it. It's upstairs so it's a lot more private. But it's just a bedroom. Like, no bathroom attached, no kitchen or anything like that. I have no idea what he meant by subletting it as it's own apartment!!! Unless you don't have any needs aside from a place to sleep, it's definitely not it's own apartment. We all kind of just laughed at him when he said that, and let them go on their way.

Unfortunately our apartment is still not rented, and we are now just waiting for someone to come along. Until then, we'll try and reinforce our rules, and laugh at amateur realtors.

So remember, everyone is ridiculous, including lying salesmen.

Beanpot...GO HUSKIES!

So this past Monday and the Monday before was Northeastern University's Beanpot. The Beanpot is when Northeastern, Boston University, Boston College and Harvard all play each other in a hockey tournement. It's a pretty big deal here, and shockingly, I have never gone before. So as it's my senior year I decided it was necessary to go this year.

The day tickets go on sale people line up for hours ahead of time, and they sell out crazy fast. So my 2 girlsfriends and I got in line, waited in the freezing cold, and paid almost $40 for the tickets. (Let me tell you, when you're a broke college student $40 goes a long way.)

The Beanpot takes place at the Garden, which is Boston's big arena that the Celtics and the Bruins play at. So the tickets have seat numbers, not just general admission. Now at Northeastern games the tickets are just general admission, so it's first come, first served. This discrepency is what lead to the riciculous situation the other night.

So it's the first night of the Beanpot and Northeastern is playing BU at 8:00 PM. My two friends I was going with, Megan and Dee, both work on Monday's until 5:00 PM.  So we all met up at home, ate some dinner, then jumped on the T to get to the game.  By the time we got there is was about 8:30 PM.  While we were slightly late, between clearing the ice, the national anthem, and other hockey-related things, nothing had really happened yet.  The game had barely started.

So we make our way over to our assigned seats, as per the ticket specified.  Once we got there we had two of our seats open, but someone was in the third.  Now it was pretty clear that the people in this section all either knew each other, were friends, came together, something!  Also there were three empty seats, that were originally theirs, in the row behind us.  We didn't realize this right away though.  This is what should have transpired:

Us:  Hey I think you guys might be in our seats.

Other people:  Oh sorry!  We all came together and wanted to sit together.  We have three empty seats right behind us.  Do you mind sitting there so we can stay together?

Us:  Sure, no problem.

This is what actually happened:

Us:  Hey I think you guys might be in our seats.

Other people:  Well the game already started!  

Us:  Uh, yea we had work....

Other people:  And you were late!  

Us:  Right, we were at our aforementioned jobs...

Other people:  AND THIS IS JUST HOW THE STUDENT SECTION WORKS!!!

Us:  Are you being serious?

One of their friends who wasn't insane:  We have three empty seats right behind us.  Do you mind sitting there so we can stay together?

Us:  Sure, but that was a weird over-reaction.  *gives them crazy looks*

They then proceeded to talk about us for the rest of the game.  With us directly behind them.  Easily in earshot.

It was actually so ridiculous that we just ended up laughing about it.  But come on!  You expect to get into fights at hockey games.  You DON'T expect to get into fights with people cheering for the same team as you.

So remember, everyone is ridiculous, including crazy college hockey fans.

Canadian ridiculousness

So my freshman year of college I went on spring break with 4 of my girlfriends.  Since we were not of legal drinking age in the United States we decided to expand our travels beyond the American borders.  But since we had no money to fly south, we decided to drive north to Montreal... *start singing* Oh Canada!

It was actually a pretty fantastic decision that I recommend to all broke college kids looking for a fun spring break.  In 5 days we each spent less than $500 total.  Including gas, hotel room, food, and of course lot's of alcohol.  (We were 18, it was exciting!)  However the money saving aspect is not the ridiculous part of this story, so let me digress.

We quickly found a routine of sleeping in late, starting to drinking in the room early, then heading out for dinner and bars.  Our favorite bar was "Winston Churchill's" and we ended every night there without fail.  It was just a typical bar, but it had a dance floor, ton's of bars and bartenders, and sometimes contests.  Pretty much everything we were looking for.

The last night we were in Canada we were dancing away at WC's, having a great time, when a contest began.  Now as anyone who has ever been to Montreal, they are known for a few things.  One of those things are strip clubs.  So contest of the night was quite on theme, it was an amateur strip contest!  Of course none of us participated, but that didn't keep us from watching!

It started with about 10 guys and 3 girls.  (Let me just make a side bar here that NONE of these people should be stripping.  NOT an attractive bunch!)  Soon the music was going...*bow chicka bow bow*... and the clothes started to come off.  It started innocently enough a shoe came off here, a jacket there.  Obviously the boys were much quicker to take off their shirts than the girls.  But no one really took their time and soon enough mostly everyone was down to their underwear.  Now is when people started losing their nerve and dropping out of the contest.  First was 2 of the girls, then 3 of the boys who refused to go full monty.

There are 7 boys and 1 girl left.  All the boys in the bar that are watching are praying to God at this point that the one girl stays in the contest.  Because otherwise they are just watching a bunch of drunk, sweaty dudes dance nakedly in a bar.  Fortunately for them, she stuck it out.

So now there are naked people dancing, covering their junk with their hands, and it's awful.  It's like a really terrible car accident that you don't want to look at, but you just can't tear your eyes away from.  Within a few minutes they announced a winner, thank God, but sadly it was the drunk girl.  I only say sadly because of what she did next.

The prize for winning was $100 to the bar.  And she stayed and drank the whole $100 worth.  By herself.  Still COMPLETELY naked!!!!  While the other contestants immediately got dressed again, she did not.  I don't know if it was because she thought she hot enough to run around naked because she won the contest (no one is hot enough for that).  Or if she was too drunk to realize she was still naked (totally possible).  So we got to spend the rest of evening attempting not to look at the drunk naked girl, but how could you not?

Either way, it made for quite the ridiculous last night of spring break.  And I never want to go to a bar with naked people in it again, ick.

So remember, everyone is ridiculous, including spring breakers in Canada.

International Ridiculous

I spent four months in Italy last year and have many, many ridiculous stories from that adventure.  One in particular makes me laugh however, and I plan on sharing that one with you.  It took place on St. Patrick's day, the international day to be as ridiculous as you want to be.  Megan and I, as per tradition goes, made sure to have plenty of alcohol and had everyone over to our apartment to celebrate before we ventured out to the bars.

So it was the regular group of people we spent time with: myself, Megan, Adriano, Lupi, John, Andreas and a few others filtering in and out through the night.  The ridiculousness starts with the amount of beer with bought for the evening.  There was a brand called "Spoken Beer" that we could purchase for under 1 euro for a large bottle.  We bought 70 of them.  Unnecessary?  Yes.  Worth it?  Absolutely.  Then we went on a tour de Perugia in efforts to find the materials necessary to make a beer bong.  Traditions can't die simply because you're in another country!  So our insane funnel is ridiculous situation 1.

Eventually we had to succumb to the fact that they didn't have typical funnel making materials.  So we improvised.  We bought a two liter-sized coke bottles, a garden hose, and duck tape.  And I gotta tell you, it was a pretty amazing contraption!!  Ghetto, but it worked so we weren't complaining.  So everyone is at our apartment, drinking and having a good time, and Megan I do something pretty typical of us.  We run into the bathroom to do what we call "secret funnels."  I'm not sure why we do these, I think something about them being a secret just makes them funnier.  Mainly because they are clearly not secretive since we run into the bathroom with the funnel and beer.

Upon coming back upstairs ridiculous situation 2 occurs.  All of the boys in the apartment decided to take off their pants and act like nothing was different.  Not being sure how to react, we just laughed and kept on drinking.  It was pretty cold, but they were troopers and kept their pants off.

Now we had Italian neighbors who didn't like us very much.  I think a big portion of that was cultural differences.  For example Italians typically don't have company to their homes, they usually just go out and meet their friends in the city.  Americans like to have friends over to their homes for drinking, dinner, just spending time together, whatever.  So they probably didn't enjoy that we regularly had friends over, and most likely hated that we had 10+ people drinking at shouting on that night in particular.  So ridiculous situation 3 occurs when one of our neighbors starts banging on our door and SCREAMING at us in Italian.  Of course Megan and I had no idea what they were saying, but our friend Adriano did.  So she yelled at us threw the door, we yelled at Adriano not to let her in, and Adriano yelled back at her in Italian.  All we could understand was the word "NO!"  Over, and over, and over again.  She it went something like this:

Girl: FJSFAKJDGSFHSK!!!!! (Italian yelling)

Us: DON'T OPEN THAT DOOR!!!!

Adriano: HFSLJDKLDSFH!!  NO!  FHSJLFJSK!!  NO!  DJSFLHSFU!!  NO!

After that settled down we decided to do a few more funnels and head on over to the bar.  At which point Adriano feel down the steps in a drunken stumble.  While this isn't particularly funny, the fact that he literally complained about it for the rest of the night non-stop kind of is.  Sorry Adriano, but you were fine.  But all we heard was "Ahhh, I broke my back!" for hours.  He maybe had a bruise.

Then as we are getting ourselves ready to leave, the boys put back on their pants.  (Yes, they were pants-less this entire time).  When my favorite, and most ridiculous part of the evening occurred.  Megan and I realized that our friend John was a bit drunker than the rest.  Drunk enough that we could play a prank on him.

So we took his pants and hid them.  We blamed someone else.  And we convinced him that it wasn't a big deal to walk the streets of Italy and go to very crowded bars in nothing but boxers.  And he agreed.  So we spent the rest of the evening laughing hysterically at all the people who just stared in awe at the drunk American who wasn't wearing pants at the bars.  It was a St. Patrick's Day for the ages.

So remember, everyone is ridiculous, including American's living in other countries.

Party Like a Rock Star

This is throwback story from freshman year.  Since we were under 21 and sadly could not go to bars, we were regulars at house parties.  Some of our favorite house parties were the ones thrown by an MIT fraternity.  Now I don't exactly remember how we met the MIT frat boys, or how we ended up invited to all of their shindigs, but I do remember that they knew how to throw a great party!  At least twice a month my friends and I dug through each others closets for an outfit most fitting for whatever the theme of the night was, strutted our asses across the city, and partied with a bunch of smart, shy boys that were essentially terrified and intrigued at the same time.  We may have given Northeastern girls the reputation of being partiers, but what can I say, we were!

One night in specific stands out as being extra ridiculous.  The theme was one that asked for trouble from the get-go... Rock Star.  And once you put on those shades, leather, chains, and lot's of black, your inner ridiculous rock and roll goddess was out and ready to play!  Upon arriving the night wasn't much different than any other Saturday night.  Drinks were consumed, music was played, friends were made.  Same old song and dance.  As the night carried on we found ourselves in one of the bedrooms, just being silly.  The boy who lived in that room came to join us.

He believed that since it was his room, we should hook up with him.  I'm not really sure about this logic, but it was his belief.  One of my friends actually did make out with him, but one girl was apparently not enough.  So when he went for it with another friend, and she turned him down because she had a boyfriend, he called her a slut.  Again, I am not following his logic of not making out = slut, but whatever.

If you know me, I do not take people insulting my friends lightly.  So I proceeded to get into a fight with him.  It went something like this:

Me:  Don't call her a slut, you asshole!

Him:  Shut up, you blonde-hair bitch!

Me:  Tell me something I don't know.  Go un-pop your collar you f%!$ing douche!

Him:  *kicks us out of the party*

Which I guess he had the right to kick us out.  But we had our vengeance.  When gathering our belongs we may have taken a thing or two of his.  For example his big bottle of vodka and pack of condoms.  We kept the bottle for us, as a prize.  But we handed out the condoms to couples making out telling them to wrap it up.  Yep, we become the elusive and mythical condom fairies.

So remember, everyone is ridiculous, including sexually frustrated frat boys.

AAAHHHH WHITE PICKET FENCE!!!!

This is story is a classic from 3 years ago.  It was my sophomore year and I decided to throw a party in the crappy, run down, perfect for college apartment I was living in at the time.  As per usual with parties I had my closer friends come over early to drink before the rest of the attendees arrived.  Among the people coming early was a girl named Christina*.  Now Christina and I were never that close, but she was close with my other friends so along she came.  

Now some back story on Christina is needed for this tale.  She is A) a homebody, B) desperately wants to get married and have children IMMEDIATELY and C) kind of insane.  So in the beginning of the night there was probably only 20 people at my apartment, equal ratio of guys to girls, perfect scenario for her to talk to a guy.  Instead, she disappeared and did not make her reappearance until later when the party was in full swing.  I repeat, she is single, wants to meet a guy, but leaves during the time when meeting a guy is the most feasible at this particular party.

So the night goes on, people are getting drunker, and behavior is getting a bit wilder.  Not unlike any other college party.  I go into my room to grab something out of my closet and this is what I found.  On the floor of my walk-in closet is Christina, curled up in the fetal position with my blanket around her, mascara streamed all over her face from crying so much, and literally screaming at the top of her lungs.  But she wasn't screaming words, oh no, that would be too normal.  She was just screaming.  For apparently no reason.  During a party.  In my closet.

Amanda* is in there attempting to take care of her/console her to no avail.  I discover from Amanda that the reason Christina is so devastated is because she's single.  It was literally as if this girl had just found out someone had died she was so distraught.  May I again remind you that she was AT a PARTY with many, many BOYS!!  But instead of talking to them, she was in my closet.  Screaming.

At this point, I frankly don't care, and just go back out into the party.  All of a sudden like a hurricane Christina goes running as fast as she can past us.  Amanda is in hot pursuit of her, trying to convince her to stop or at least slow down.  Christina sprints out of the apartment, down the stairs, and out into the street.  Screaming the entire time.  Amanda is running after her cursing and wondering what the fuck is going on.  This continues for, without exaggeration, a solid hour.

Christina runs down the street, up the street, up my stairs, into the party, out of the party, down the stairs, to the street again.  At least point she is obviously drawing quite a bit of attention.  And I must say, there is nothing more attractive to a man than a hysterically crying, shrilling screaming, hot mess of a woman devastated about being single.

I should have made this girls name Sybil instead of Christina.  Needless to say, she didn't end up coming to any of my parties again.  But she did give me an excellent story to tell.

So remember, everyone is ridiculous, including sophomores who just can't handle a party.

*Names have been changed to protect the innocent, the not so innocent, and myself.