Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Rule #2...Don't Have Girls' Night without Girls

As a brief introduction, there was a point in time when I thought I would be in medical school and studying to become a ob/gyn or a psychiatrist..  Actually this was the plan for most of my life until I entered college and worked for doctors and realized that I was too lazy to work that many hours.  So the way I got my medical fix, as unrealistic as it was, was from watching medical dramas, the most infamous being Grey’s Anatomy.


Freshman year in college, the immediate way of bonding with people was based not only on location, but whose dorm room you were going to pile into on any given night to watch a specified tv show.  Grey’s Anatomy was my in, as it had the medical drama and unrealistic aspects including that every doctor is highly attractive, finds residents and interns attractive, and has no moral code.  So every Thursday we sat a large group of girls watching Greys Anatomy through freshman, sophomore, and junior year of college.  (I skip senior year because I skipped it and went right to grad school).

Then came Freshman year of grad school and with new roommates came an increase in the tradition; Grey’s Anatomy, grew from just a Thursday night show to prepare for the weekend to a full out bonanza.  Not only did we watch the show, there was now an increase in bodies,  pizza, and beverages.  This worked out perfectly as not only were we able to oogle over men, ridicule dramatic acting, and awful writing, but we also did our part in stimulating the economy via consumption of crazy breads, hot n readys, burnett’s and/or whatever shannigans would occur.  This was my Thursday night for years, watching grey’s, consuming crappy food, and drinks.  So why would any of this change upon relocation???

My first Thursday in the big city came and I was there on my own.  The man was gone on a man date, which I was in complete favor of because it meant I was free to watch my shows without his judgment and I could continue one aspect of my former life.  So I sat down on the couch with my pizza (no hot-n-readys here), a glass of wine, and Grey’s Anatomy…it was the perfect Thursday Night or so I thought....

About halfway through the episode, something tragic happened, so naturally I got all teared up, which normally would not have been an issue because I would have been surrounded by girls who make me laugh about how ridiculous it was.  This time though, there were no girls, and so I was left...all by myself...with wine and a few tears which lead to...a cry.  Until I did the next best thing; texting and frantically calling girls….some refused to answer on the precipice that you don't talk during greys except for the commercial but eventually I got a few to break the rules.  They were faithful and true and made fun of me and assured me that they were still my friends and would visit soon…I came to an amazing realization as I sat  phone in hand, crying on the couch on a Thursday night…you can't have a girls' night without any girls in the immediate geographic area...

Rule #1...If MIT designed it...don't touch it.


For those of you who don't know, I have a secret desire to be Desperate Housewives-ish....or at least you know have the appearance of having everything together, when in reality I don't.  However, that is besides the point...this is the story of If MIT designed it...don't touch it.

This story begins on the Saturday that I arrived in Boston (so about 3 weeks ago).  You see, on this Saturday, it was dreary out and crappy so I had tortured the man by forcing him to go shopping with me for things I needed in my apartment ie; hangers, magnets, hair products, things that obviously, I a female, could not live without.  After hours of shopping for "stuff" for the apartment, we then proceeded to buy our first batch of groceries to make my Dad dinner as a thank you for moving me out here.  The dinner was successful, and dad was happy, as was the man.  I decided to top off the man's happiness by pretending to be domestic and do the dishes.

Now when I discuss doing dishes, I'm not just talking about loading the dishwasher, or washing a few things by hand.  The man is handy and built himself a beautiful bar during his college years, which some of you readers may have danced upon.  What goes along better with a bar than a bazillion pint glasses with various beer logos imprinted on them...nothing.  So these glasses should be handwashed and I decided that I was going to be domestic and attempt to do  the dishes.  That being said...I should also mention that the man has interned in Boston for the past 3 years and fallen in love with all things that are Boston; the red sox, sam adams, the bruins (but not the patriots)...so you get my point.  Since the man fell in love with sam adams, it only made sense that he have several Sam Adams Boston Lager glasses.  Now for those of you who don't know...these are no ordinary glasses.

The glasses produced for the Boston Lager are of the highest caliber, with the utmost engineering, and millions of dollars going into them.  This is not even a joke.  Sam Adams spent millions of dollars on having people at MIT design a beer glass that would maximize the flavor, aroma, and all that other stuff in order to make it taste the best.  


These infamous glasses as shown above, happened to be just one of the many glasses that I washed and set in our dish rack to dry before going to bed (also something I insisted that you have to have).  

As evening turned into the wee hours of the morning, a shattering like none other could be heard which caused me to shout aloud "GUNSHOT!!!" and the man to spring to life.  First of all, me yelling "gunshot" is completely irrational where I live.  To explain; 1. I live in a high rise condo complex where the average age is 63, and that's mostly because the man and I have moved in and dropped down the average 2. we live on the 5th floor, there's no fire-escape, and it's the 5th floor 3. We live in a suburb outside of Boston, it's not exactly a high crime area and I would know as I have journeyed home with the man in the wee hours and it's been perfectly safe.  So besides the fact that yelling "gunshot" was irrational and silly, I fell back asleep immediately without even thinking...the man however did not. 

The next morning the man asked me if I recalled yelling "gunshot" and I may or may not have told him I wasn't sure if it was real or a dream.  He then asked me if I recalled washing a very special glass...his sam adams glass...which I may or may not have.  Well apparently when Sam Adam's glasses fall to the floor their shattering sounds just like a gunshot.  It was at this point that I was told....If MIT designed it, you probably shouldn't touch it...or as I like to think of it...Reason number 1 for me to not do dishes.