Always Anna

I LOVE going on vacation with my college girls.  It gives us time to relax, time to party, time to bond… and it always gives us about a million more memories.  Going to Newport this past weekend was no different.  We missed Nikki, but Alexis, Ali, Em and I had a blast.  My favorite memories of the weekend?

* Getting lectured by an older man about why we should admire “old money,” but should disdain “new money.”  He also told us that the best way to stop people from speeding down residential streets is to beat the car with a metal tricycle.  Old money thugs, yo!

* Driving around the streets late night, blaring Gnarls Barkley and honking at anyone crazy enough to get in our way.  It was so high school!

* Wandering around Thames, Bellevue, and the Cliff Walk.  Newport is just gorgeous.

* Yelling at Alexis as she passed out in the hotel room before we went out on Saturday night.  Headache, schmeadache!  She missed quite a night….

* Standing in line to get back inside the bar (if anyone can explain to me why there needs to be a line INSIDE the bar to get from room to room, I’d really appreciate it), and having a random skank dump a drink on my head! She seemed to think that we’d really like it if she and her two friends cut us in line.  As the head skank stepped all over my feet, Em & I maneuvered around to keep her from getting in front of us.  She proceeded to “accidentally” spill some of her drink on our arms.  I turned around and said, “Excuse me.  EXCUSE ME. Can you stop climbing all over me?”  She ignored me, so Em & I hip-checked her out of the way.  She proceeded to dump her rum & coke on my head.  I started laughing hysterically as Emily swung around and yelled, “What the FUCK bitch?” and shoved her so hard she fell back at least 6 feet.  Then I had Ali lick the rum off my arm – no point in wasting it, right? – as the bouncer ushered the three of us into the bar to get us away from the skanks.

* Ali getting into bed with a married man.  Who had a kid on the way.  No worries – she didn’t homewreck.

* The beach!  The sun!  The tanlines! The ridiculousness of the 40+ year old singer at ABC!

* Running into the boyfriend of a friend from college, who recognized Alexis from her blog, and proceeded to introduce her as “a tier-one New York City writer” to his friends. 

* Having a drunk guy tell us, very seriously, that he was a late breast-feeder, and that, “No child wants to give up the sweet nectar of his mother’s teat.”  Then watching him check out Alexis’ teats.  Hahahaha!

* Me screaming at a guy on the street, “Stop trying to give Alexis money!  She’s not a hooker!”

* Seeing a drunk girl passed out on Thames Street, with her skirt up around her waist and her hoo-ha hanging out for all to see.  No, it wasn’t Alexis.

* Fishing for Alexis off the bridge.

* Competing with Bob to see who could have a crazier weekend.  We won.

So.  There you have it.  A pretty random, and totally incomplete, summary of the weekend.  I would post pictures, but I don’t want to embarass anyone… including myself.  :)

My friend Ally sent me an email, announcing how she would die – and said that I could find out how I would die by going here.  So, of course, I immediately clicked on the link, filled in some information, and discovered that, “At age 45, you will be eaten by birds in Manhattan’s Central Park.”

As you may recall, I hatehatehate birds, and am a little afraid of them too.  So, now that I know they’re going to kill me, I have a legit reason.

“Feathered friends”?  Try the winged menace!  Ugh.

tired tired tired tired tired.

What with birthday parties that featured raspberry vodka, a college graduation party featuring beer, and a casino that featured MORE raspberry vodka, I didn’t get nearly enough sleep last weekend.  Or Monday or Tuesday night, when I had to catch up on the stuff I didn’t get done last weekend.

I’m running on empty, folks.

Late Saturday Night.

Mohegan Sun.

Five people discuss what we’d do if we won big.

Dan says, “You have to buy my love. I don’t come cheap… but I do come quick!”

I fell off my bar stool laughing.

Today, for the first time in almost 2 weeks, the sun came out in Boston.  I don’t think I can even express my joy at seeing sunlight filter through my blinds when I woke up this morning – FINALLY!  It’s May, for crying out loud!

My happiness was compounded by the fact that I was out of clean pants to wear to work – sun meant I could wear a skirt!  Woohoo!

As I got dressed this morning, I felt so spring-like as I put on a slim black skirt and light purple top, and slipped my bare feet into heels (no tights!).  Obviously, the girly outfit required me to clip my hair back a little bit, and put on some swingy earrings.  I feel so… feminine!

So, I left my apartment, and kind of bounced along as I walked to the T.  About halfway to the T station, I saw a short, older woman – probably about 65 – walking towards me.  As I passed her, she reached out and gently touched my arm as she asked, “Excuse me, could you stop for a minute?”

Assuming she needed directions somewhere, I smiled down at her and said, “Sure.  How can I….” And broke off mid-sentence as she walked in a circle around me, looking me up and down.  She ran a hand through her short gray hair, looked directly into my confused eyes, and said, “I think you are EXACTLY what my husband wishes I looked like, and am just trying to figure out how you do it.” 

I broke into a nervous laugh, and stuttered out a thank you as she continued to gaze at me. 

She turned to walk away, and called back over her shoulder, “You’re beautiful – just beautiful.”

So there you have it.  Apparently wearing a skirt instead of pants entices 65-year-old women.  And their absent husbands. 

Sometimes, you find out that someone that you think you know – someone that you think you really understand – is not anything like what you thought.  And when you find out that someone you love is capable of something that is so against everything that you believe – and against everything that you thought they believed – you can’t help but feel like your world has been shaken.

Maybe I’m too much of an optimist, or too trusting.  Maybe I shouldn’t believe the best about people.  Maybe I shouldn’t trust people so easily, or be so shocked when people reveal a side that I just can’t live with.  

But I won’t change – I’ll take the occasional shock over a loss of faith in people. 

Okay, I’ve been thinking about this since last night’s tragic Laker loss to the Suns in Game 7.  And it turns out that I’m okay with the way it ended for the Lakers this year. 

After the debacle that was last year’s season, all I wanted for this year was for the Lakers to make the playoffs.  That’s it.  And Phil worked a MIRACLE this year, turning Kobe and four random players into a TEAM.  Game 1 of the playoffs may have been a loss – but it was GREAT to see everyone participating, and even better when that same teamwork resulted in 3 wins.  In spite of the loss (which obviously caused me to scream obscenities at the bar and drink heavily), I really feel like the Lakers are back on track.

But there are two things that are REALLY pissing me off:

* I am SO freakin’ tired of listening to people bitch and moan about Kobe.  All season, people were crying about how selfish he was, and how he had no respect for the idea of being a part of the team.  Then, when he does pass the ball and get people involved, but the Lakers don’t win,  people say that he doesn’t do what it takes to win.  Meanwhile, when Steve Nash takes the majority of the team’s shots, the announcer says, “Steve Nash knows that he has to take these shots, because he’s the best chance for his team to win.  THAT’S what an MVP does.”  Double-standard, anyone?  UGH.  I’m just sick of people loving to hate Kobe.

* Raja Bell has become number one.  Number one on my SHIT list.  Jackass managed to rise up and kick Allen Iverson out of my most hated basketball player spot… and Terrell Owens out of my most hated athlete spot.  Dude is a punk ass bitch, who seems to think that running his mouth, headlocking players, and generally being an ASS makes him a great player.  But he’s not even good enough for me to wish he was on my team.

In non-basketball news – I think that this “diary by Paris Hilton” is hilarious.  But am horrified that Matt Leinart doesn’t have better taste.

Well, the Lakers may have just lost Game 4, but we’re going back to LA where we will KICK SOME PHOENIX *SS!  Boys – don’t let me down. 

Whew. Now I need to think happy thoughts… perhaps I should replay last weekend in New York in my head?  Yes, I think that’ll do that.

After chilling with Em in CT on Friday night, I took the train into NY on Saturday to hang out with Ali & Alexis, and prepare for a night of drunken debauchery – the Post Show Season 3 Launch Party.  Those boys inspire me to the best drunkard that I can be.  My favorite (admittedly hazy) memories?

* Getting to second base with Alexis before the party even started.  THAT’S why I go to NY, people.

* Getting to wear my favorite new shoes.  They may make my toes go numb, but they’re d*mn cute.

* Red-headed slut shots with White Windbreaker and Alexis – not red-heads, but sluts nonetheless.  Oooh, BURN!

* Meeting Helen for the first time, and making fun of lame boys.  I love her attitude.

* Doing Lemon Drops (the most girly of the non-girly shots) with Poop, and creating a mess of lemon juice on my arm.  My arm was sticky for two days. (What?  I don’t shower on Sundays – too much work!)

* Watching Alexis throw her drink glass at the wall, for no apparent reason, then break into her diva routine before ditching me for a boy. 

* Watching girls throw themselves all over the Post Show Boys and the rest of their Posse.  More entertaining than Tom Cruise’s craziness!

* Late night pizza.  Mmmmmm….

Ah, good times.  Drunk times.  Post Show times.  It’s all good.

Of course, all will be better when the Lakers get up off their *sses and play some GOOD basketball!