Your Girlfriend is Ugly

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There are certain times when a girl wishes she had a boyfriend; when heavy lifting is involved, when there are bugs and when her car starts to act like an asshole.

Last night I turned on Suzi. The dashboard lit up the bright purple color that is synonymous with
VDubb's and she went through her list of checks and balances. As I fastened my seat-belt I noticed that there was one icon on the dash that wasn't going away. It was an yellow exclamation point that was inside a U.

"Uuuh..." I muttered, my breath crystallizing in front of me in the 28 degree cold.

"What's wrong?" said JSutt.

"There's a weird icon on my dash. Here open the glove box and get the book."

We flipped through the pages until we came to the page that lists what all the little icons meant.

"BREAK MALFUNCTION?! SHIT!!!"

"Lees. You're looking at the wrong icon. This one is red. The one on your dash is yellow."

"Oh. Oh ok."

"It says 'system maintenance' or 'tire pressure in one of your tires is dangerously low.' So just take it to the dealership and have them check it out."

Ugh. I looked at my tires and they all look perfectly inflated to me. I reeeeeeally don't want to take it to the dealership. And WTF?! My car has some nerve! Suzi is just over a year old and besides, three hours before this icon blew up in my face she was perfectly fine and icon-free!

Do any mechanics read YGIU?

Toe-tal Karma

Well, I know all of you were wondering when my karma was going to come around and bite me in the ass for -ACCIDENTALLY- ripping off Dunkin' Donuts. Well the wait is over. I'm pretty sure I got my fill of what-goes-around-comes-around yesterday.

After meeting with a friendly vendor downtown last night I hopped in a cab with my sister and headed back to our office on 57th and Madison. I arrived in NYC yesterday morning so I had all of my luggage with me. I decided to just leave the luggage at the office instead of trucking downtown with a suitcase and I'd just pick it up on the way back to Shana's apartment. We hopped in the cab and told the cabbie of our plan and how it would take just three minutes for me to grab my stuff so would he mind just circling the block.

"Why would I circle the block? That's stupid. I'll just park outside and wait."

"Oh...well ok then!" Perfect!

Our cab sidled up to the left near corner of 57th and Madison, right across from the IBM building. It was spitting rain all day yesterday. I hopped out of the cab and stepped right into a puddle.

"AH FUCK!" I didn't realize that my nice black pashmina was on my lap so when I looked down at my shoe to assess the water damage I saw that I was also submerging my pash in the puddle.

"UGH!" I picked up my soggy scarf and chucked it into the backseat on top of my sister.

Finally on the sidewalk I started to walk quickly to the office. I only had three minutes! It was still spitting rain and I was wearing heels. All of a sudden my right heel got caught in the sidewalk, but my foot kept walking forward. My foot landed on the slippery cement and I couldn't catch my footing so I did a split right there on Madison Avenue in front of the IBM building and God.

After I peeled myself and my dignity up off the ground I hobbled back to where my shoe was stuck in the sidewalk. This was when I noticed that the top of my right big toe was gushing blood. Apparently when my foot came flying out of my heel so did the top portion of my big toe. The flap of skin was still attached to the edge of the shoe.

"Awesome," I muttered to myself. "This sucks!"

I made it to the office and back to the taxi in one piece. And I think bodily damage more than makes up for the $1.57 that I owe my neighborhood Dunkin' Donuts.

Weird

I was looking at my calendar a couple of days ago trying to plan out the upcoming weekend, when I realized that this Saturday the 15th is the date of The Wedding.

If you're not sure what I'm referring to then read MOH Update before you go any further into this blog.

"Holy Shit," I said to myself.

The fact that I would've been the Maid of Honor in a wedding this weekend, had things turned out differently, kind of blew my mind. I wondered how it all would've gone down:How would I have managed everything with the insane travel schedule I had this past summer and fall? Would I have been able to plan a shower? A Bachelorette party? Would I have be able to lose the 10 lbs I needed for the dress? (Since the dress was my motivation the 10lbs are still attached to my hips). And more importantly, had I let the whole situation go, would I have secured a Plus One?

It's a situation I think about, not out of guilt but out of curiosity.

Since everything went down I haven't heard from the bride. This past summer I emailed her a quick FYI to inform her that one of our mutual friends fathers had passed. She couldn't even email me back a thank you. But I know I haven't heard the last of her. I'm sure I'll hear from her 2, maybe 3 or 4 years down the road. Maybe she'll call but I'm betting on a hand-written note since we all know how good she is at those.

The Iced Tea Bandit

This morning I made my way to my Dunkin' Donuts on Old Colony Ave. The drive-thru was line free *woot!* so I maneuvered Suzi right up to the little speaker box.

"How can I help you?"

"Hi. Can I get a medium iced tea with lemon and NO SUGAR."

"Medium iced tea, lemon no sugar."

"Yes."

"$2.35. Please drive up."

I know you're all wondering, "Why in God's name is Lisa ordering iced tea??!" Basically, when I was in China there was the whole melamine in the milk scare. No one was drinking milk or cream and black coffee in China is like drinking jet fuel. So I started drinking tea everywhere I went -I can take my tea black, I cannot take my milk without a splash of cream or milk- and when I got back to the US it just stuck. Now I'll have just one cup of coffee in the morning as opposed to my 6 cups throughout the course of a day.

Back to present day. So I pulled up to the drive-thru window and said hello to the girls that I see every morning working the window. I put my car in park and immediately had a sneezing fit. I sneezed like 6 times in a row. I sneezed to much a line of cars had materialized behind me.

"GAH!"

"It's OK honey. Take your time!" That was one of the nice drive-thru window girls.

But I was frazzled. I took out my gift card and glanced at the total amount of money left on the card.

"Hey there's $2.60 left on this. Keep the change!"

"Thanks!" She handed me my iced tea and I drove off.

As I was crossing the Herald Street Bridge I grabbed the various receipts and went to put them in my purse for further disposal when something caught my eye. It was the receipt that I'd glanced at earlier to figure out how much was left on my Dunkins gift card. There listed at the bottom was TOTAL REMAINING BALANCE: $ 0.78

Wait...what? Where did the $2.60 come from???

The $2.60 was the cost of the beverage I'd paid for with the card before, resulting in the $0.78 remaining balance.

Oh great. I'd just gipped my go-to Dunkin' Donuts! I go there every morning! Every single morning I drive up, order the same thing and go on my merry way. I realize I can go back there an apologize for my mistake but I won't be making a trip back there until Wednesday next week because I'm traveling starting tomorrow!

It's a good thing I'm moving.

Farewell

I had a good time in college. I lived in a prime apartment in the city with two guys and another girl. I was nineteen and never without liquor because either Tony Bologna or Stu would buy for me. We partied every night and there were always crazy shenanigans happening on our roof which looked into the Prudential Center. But that's what college is all about right? Hooking up with too many guys and drinking too many nips of Puckers.

I tried to relive my glory days when I moved to Southie four years ago. I was partying every weekend and drinking like it was my job. I even passed out in my friends bath tub and later on that night eventually puked pink stuff all over the street. Too much red wine and special brownies. 

Then there comes a point when you enter your mid-twenties that you say to yourself, "I can't drink like that any more." Don't get me wrong. I'll enjoy the bottle of red wine all to myself and I'm all for grabbing drinks after work. But gone are the days when I wake up at 7am on St. Patty's day and drink until midnight.

However, my responsible drinking self was shoved aside on Saturday for my Last Hurrah in Southie. I am moving out of the neighborhood that I've called home for the past four years and I wanted to remember the evening. Remember I did...until 6pm the following night.

Hooker made it a point to come up from NYC for the weekend so she could see me off in style. She used to live in the neighborhood and she was also my drinking buddy when she lived in Boston so it was totally fitting that she made it a point to be here.

At 5pm I cracked open a Stella and started to get ready for the evening. By 7pm I was totally buzzed and decided it was a good idea to pop open the bottle of Vueve Cliquot that was burning a hole in my fridge. The Ukrainian Princess had joined us by this time so the three of us bopped around my apartment sipping Vueve and applying eye liner.

By 9pm everyone had arrived at my place and I was reliving the Stairwell Story compliments of Iggy and Hooker. I don't know why those two feel the need to always retell it. Oh I know why. BECAUSE IT'S THE BEST STORY EV-ER.

The entire group of us made our way to the L Street Tavern around 10pm and the place was bumping. By this time I was totally buzzed and kept telling the random wicked drunk guy that my (sober) friend Rose liked him. This made him stand really close to her and rub up against her.

"YA FUCKIN' DEAD!" She shouted to me from across the bar as I collapsed in giggles. 

One thing you should know about me when I get drunk is that I ALWAYS want to do shots. It's like a relax or a gift from God or something. Saturday night was no different. I turned to my friends Jessie and T and told them I wanted to do a shot. 

"ANNNYFRING BUT JAEGAH MMKAY? I'LL BAHF IF WE DO JAEGAH."

"Irish Car Bomb?"

"What's that? I nevah done one."

"It's delicious."

"Ok. BAHTENDAH! THREE IRISH CAH BOMBS!!!!"

You should also know that when I get drunk my Boston accent comes out full force.

I pounded that Irish Car Bomb and after licking the Bailey's from my thumb proclaimed the Bahtendah to BRING ME ANOTHA!

"Leeeees....." JSutt had sidled up to my left, "Ok Leees. So you just did an Irish Car Bomb. Maybe you should wait 15 mins. If you want another one then come back and get one ok?"

"K." And with that I slithered off my stool and went outside to get some air.

During all of this drinking and debauchery I decided to undress Jhilll's fiancee Dave. I don't know what it is about Dave but whenever I'm drunk around him I feel the need to either take his clothes off or breath heavily near him. It's a wonder he even still talks to me. In between Irish Car Bombs -yes I did another one- I started to chat up this guy in a striped sweater. He walked by me and I just gave him a nod and said "HEY."

"Hey. How are you?"

"I'm good. You look like Pacey from Dawson's Creek."

"Really??? No one's ever told me that before!"

"Well you do."

We talked a little more but I had the attention span of a gnat and he eventually got sick of  me and walked to the other end of the bar. By 12:30 I had a revelation that we had to leave L Street immediately and head to Murphy's Law, the dive bar down the street that's open super late. I don't know why I felt the need to leave. L Street was bumping and Pacey and I were making bar eyes. I passed him on the way out and he asked where I was going.

"Murphy's."

"Why? It's so shady!"

"Yeah but it's open late!"

"So is my apartment."

I was too drunk to process this. "Mmmmkay byeeeee."

Hooker asked me later why I didn't get my boyfriends number. I told her I had two Irish Car Bombs. 'Nuff said.

Murphy's was filled with the usual clowns. One guy in a Patriot's hoodie kept telling us his friend was going to whip it out for us. Another guy with the smallest head I've ever seen started talking to Jessie and some guy named Dave kept grabbing my nose and saying, "HA! GOT IT!"

The nose grabbing thing was new to me. The threat to whip out a penis, unfortunately was not.

Saturday night was one of those great nights where everyone is in a good mood, the crowd is cool, the vibe is chill and even though you drink like you're going to the chair you don't hurl. That last point is the difference between grown up drinking and college drinking. When I was 20 I totes would've ralphed -totally the best synonym for puking Chris-.

The big O

I don't like Oprah.

Yeah. I said it. Bring on the tar and feathers.

I find her incredibly self-righteous and insanely annoying. Also, she's one of those women who wears ridiculously high heels and then can't walk in them. I was watching her show once -not of my own volition, I was at a friends house- and she came on stage teetering on what appeared to be 6" heels. She could barely hold herself up! After she greeted the audience she plopped down on the couch and stayed there for the entire show. I don't even think she got up to greet her guest.

Last week I'm sitting on my couch, happily watching 30 Rock when who's mug appears on the screen? Oprah's. GAH! The woman has more money than God and she insists on walking around with those huge bags under her eyes. She could put her carry-on luggage in those things! And always appearing on the cover of her magazine? Is that really necessary? Well, actually I suppose it's good for the economy.If Oprah were to decide she didn't want to appear on her magazine covers she'd be putting a few hundred airbrushers out of business.

I was voted Most Likely To Have My Own Talk Show in my senior year of high school. Watch out. I'm coming for you Oprah.

I VOTED

Did everyone go out and vote??? I did and I'm pumped about it.

My voting location was about a three minute walk so I strolled over this morning at around 8:30. The place was line free. I was looking forward to voting for the obvious reason but more importantly I wanted one of those chic I VOTED stickers.

After the old Southie clams took my address and handed me my ballot I circled in the little ovals as adroitly as I could. I gave it a once over and then sauntered to the Check Out station where the Boston Police officer was waiting.

"Address?"

"405 K Street."

"Name?"

"Lisa Gradie."

pause pause

"You're listed as Lisa Anne Gradie."

"Yes. My middle name is Anne."

"Ok. Just want to make sure. We don't want to screw anything up!"

"Uh huh.."

I put my ballot into the machine and then asked the woman where I can get a sticker.

"What sticker?"

"The I VOTED stickers."

"I don't think we have those dear."

"What?! Really???"

"Well I don't know..."

I turned on my heel and went to the guy at the front with the curly hair and classes who was informing people that precinct 1 was on your left and precinct 2 was on your right. "Hi. Are you in possession of I VOTED stickers?"

"Excuse  me?"

"The I VOTED stickers. Do you have any?"

"No. We haven't given any out all day."

"OH MAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!"

I was bummed, I'm not gonna lie. It's like a rite of passage to rock one of those. You see someone else with an I VOTEDsticker and you give a small smile or a respectful head nod. It's like being in a secret society and I wanted to be a part of it! I guess I'll just have to settle for an I VOTED blog.