Part Deux

Ok, so the second part did not come as shortly as I promised but this month has been crazy for me, not that I'm making excuses. I went back home to Canton, MA for Passover/Easter weekend and it was insane times. Tolman hosted a rather large "Good Friday" party that entailed multiple visits from cops, fights, a girl peeing on the kitchen floor and Emily and I thinking we were bikini models in the kitchen. Topped it off with some Spa to cure the hangover the next day and it was a typical weekend in C-Town. For those of you that don't know about Town Spa, first of all shame on you. It's an amazing restaurant located in Stoughton, MA a.k.a "tough town, tell your friends" which has the best honey mustard sauce in the world. I have never met anyone in the world who doesn't like it (besides joanie and kub which is unacceptable). How can one have so much love for a condiment? Once you taste this sweet goodness, you soon understand how. This honey mustard sauce is more honey than mustard and it's such a craze that they charge you for it and sell it in pints. I put it on basically everything including my pizza and combine with it with ketchup for my fries. I truly enjoyed my Spa experience since I haven't eaten it since the fall and I gave up fries for lent and finally could eat them again! (yes, I know I'm Jewish but I needed the catholic religion to instill some self control. One can always turn to the catholic religion to learn self denial of wants and needs. After returning to SF for one week, I was off again to NYC to celebrate Hilary's birthday. Hilary's boyfriend flew me out to surprise her. I love visiting New York City. Its guaranteed fun where anything goes and I mean anything;) I had the best time seeing all my close friends from school some of which I haven't seen since graduation. That is really depressing to think about. The fact that it's been a year since I graduated and the fact that I haven't seen the people I spent most of my days with for the past four years really weirds me out. Ugh, I have such issues with this post college thing. But that will be for another day. Then after missing my flight on Sunday and spending a night at a shady Comfort Inn and riding in a shuttle with a woman who moved from Seattle to Saudi Arabia for her husband (talk about sacrifice), I finally made it back to San Francisco and rode the BART straight to work with about 1000 immigrants who were protesting that day. And from that point on, I got sick from my escapades in NYC. Just a cold but it's never just a cold. I mean a cold is the most annoying sickness in the world. You feel like shit but you can't complain about it because people don't have sympathy for a cold. You just have to suck it up and deal with the chills, nasty cough, snot everywhere and constantly worrying about grossing people out while you blow your nose in order to receive some oxygen to the brain. This brings me to this past weekend where I took a trip to Yosemite. Talk about intense nature. The views were out of control and I felt like I was back at camp which is a huge part of my life that I will fill you in on at some point. So here I am and here you are. Together again at last. I thank you for your patience and I will continue with my random stories to keep you entertained in your cubicle where you spend most of the hours of your life. Hey, we're all in it together and one day maybe when we're older and kissed enough ass, we may have that office with a window. Wow!
SO LETS BEGIN!!!!!!!

YOU DON'T SMELL LIKE SQUIRREL
It was nearing the end of first semester freshmen year. I finally was happy at school. I had a really hard time adjusting to college. Perhaps, it was due to having such good friends back in Canton or maybe it was 9/11 and being located only miles away from the Pentagon or perhaps it was the tornado that whipped through my dorm causing me to fear for my life. Hard to tell. Anyway, I finally liked it and felt comfortable and safe. So, it was your typical Saturday night as a freshmen. We went around frat row to random parties and were headed to a SAM Late Night. Late Nights were thrown by frats and basically they are just parties after the bars close to solidify the chances of getting ass. As for everything in the Greek system at Maryland, these were outlawed soon after. So I'm walking with a group of people including this kid Tony who was kind of a dick and I just received a drunk dial from my friends from home who were all together visiting Fairfield. We're chatting it up, passing the phone around, talking about how drunk we are and how much we miss each other. All of a sudden, as I'm talking, laughing, enjoying my buzz, WAP! I was hit in the back with something. I was confused since I wasn't paying attention and I look down and see a dead squirrel at my feet. Tony thought he was Pele and decided to kick the squirrel and launched it at me. I was in shock. Then, I realized what just occurred. I just had roadkill punted at me. I started to scream to on the phone to my friends of what just happened to me. Then, I took in the smell that overtook my air. The putrid smell was coming from remnants of the squirrels guts that ended up on my new sweater coat and hair. I will never forget that smell. So my sensitive and loving friends on the other side of the phone said, "Fallyn, don't worry. You don't smell like squirrel. YOU SMELL LIKE DEAD SQUIRREL" background laughter ensues. After this ordeal and screaming at dickface Tony, I was forced to still continue on to the Late Night and socialize while smelling like a dead squirrel. I was not having it. So I went back to the dorms threw out my new sweater coat and cleansed myself over and over again until I could finally justify the smell was gone. Think Ace Ventura when it's discovered Einhorn is Finkle, Finkle is Einhorn. And as for Tony, I saw him occasionally every year after, and of course I've never liked him after that since he was always the kid that kicked a dead squirrel at my back.


PUT ON MY JACKET
So everything done in high school was a means to an end and that end was getting into to college and one of my means was volunteering at the Mass Hospital School. Mass Hospital School is a boarding school in my town for children with disabilities. I enjoyed giving my time but I didn't exactly know what I was getting my self into. For my first year, I helped out in art classes. We would help the students some of which who were my age with the different art projects. After the hour was over, we would help clean up, get the kids ready and bring them back to their rooms. One afternoon, after making Valentines Day hearts it was time to clean up and get ready to go home. I was working with this one girl (forget her name) who made a mess of the sparkles and markers and since she didn't have much mobility, I had to clean up after her. I'm not sure what disability this girl had but she had a keypad on her wheelchair which spoke for her since she was not able to speak. This keypad had buttons with pictures on it to help her communicate. So as I am slaving away, cleaning up her mess, she presses the button on her keypad and I hear in an operator's monotone voice "Put on my jacket." So I responded, "just one minute, need to clean up first." I guess she didn't like that response because as I turn around to continue cleaning, I hear, "Put on my jacket." I turn around and look at her. Then as we stare into each other's eyes, she takes her crooked little finger and places it on the button with the picture of the jacket. "Put on my jacket." Was this girl serious? Did she not hear me say after I clean up and why the hell didn't the operator include a "Please" with that demand? So I give into "miss I want everything done now" and start attempting to put the jacket on but her arms are not able to straighten. This turned out to be a more difficult task than I assumed. Think of trying to put a jacket on someone who has their arms tight to their body andwon't budge. So as I am trying to pull her arm through the sleeve, I see her other hand reach for that fucking button, and I hear it. "Put on my jacket." "Put on my jacket." "Put on my jacket." What a fucking bitch! Did she not see me trying to put on the jacket? That was it. I slammed my hands down and pressed all the buttons which made the operator scream out "apple" "Yes" "No thank you" and screamed at her and told her to put on her own fucking jacket! Just kidding, I didn't flip out but I wanted to. I wanted to take her fucking keypad of commands and throw it out the window. But instead I remained calm after the 3 "Put on my jackets" in a row, the art teacher finally stepped in and reprimanded her for being impatient and I left the rude commander there with her half on jacket and keypad for someone else to deal with.

IS ANYTHING MISSING?
It was homecoming sophomore year. During homecoming all the sororities and fraternaties are matched up and compete against each other and have events at night including the bar crawl. Usually, bar crawl's are organized with bars that understand that underage people are coming and ease up on IDs since their getting a lot of business on a random weeknight. This semester's bar crawl was located in DC around M street. It was a rainy Tuesday night and I really didn't feel like going. My friends convinced me to suck it up and go out. Guaranteed fun, right? So, we load on the buses located in book exchange. Now, from the start we could tell a lot of people were not joining in the fun of the bar crawl. Usually, for an event whether it be in Baltimore, DC, or at 94th, herds of students would pile in the parking lot of the Maryland Book Exchange impatiently waiting for buses. Most had already had a strong buzz on and wanted to get to the destination to continue drinking. Obviously every event was poorly organized and chaos always ensued. There were never enough buses so when one pulled up, crowds ran with full force to get on pushing, shoving, and trampling anything in its path. Your standard stampede. There were many a time I was pinned against a bus fearing for my life while trying to elbow the person next to me to beat them onto the bus...AHHH the sweet memories. So as you can see, we quickly knew that this bar crawl did not attract the normal crowd due to the rain but we were determined to have a good night any.

So we finally get there and get into the first bar, Rumors, with ease. The place was empty so we had a drink and decided to check out the next bar, Lulus. We came upon the bar and I quickly realized that I've been to the bar before during my freshmen year. There were a bunch of us from house out that night and we were walking in two groups to the bar. So we line up, take out our fake IDs, put on the "think I'm 21 face" and proceed to the bouncer. Two people get in then it was my turn. I hand him my amazing fake Florida ID that I got before coming to college with my picture on it. He takes it. Looks. Then proceeds to put it in his pocket. I was shocked. Excuse me, sir. You just pocketed my social life. As I turn to my friends for guidance in this situation, another girl in my house Moca gets her ID taken too. Well, she was not having it and started arguing with the bouncer. I had a few drinks in me and decided that was the best route to take. So I start claiming I'm 21 and we continue to badger the bouncer. He then pulls the "Call the police and tell them to come here and then I'll give it back to you." Of course, with my beer balls, I respond, "Fine, get the police!" I then turn around to see a cop standing behind me. "Excuse me, miss. Take a seat." Moca tries to run for it and one cop grabbed her arm and threw her against the door. Then within seconds, five cops were surrounding us. That's when things took a turn for the worst. "What's your real age?" "19" Fuck. So now I'm sopping wet in the rain sitting on a lamp post realizing this was not your typical Tuesday night. "Ok, take off all your jewelry and put your hands behind your back." "Are you serious? You're arresting me?" "Yes, I'm serious. Put your hands behind your back." I mean, who gets arrested for a fake ID? This girl. Moca and I were arrested and placed in a patty wagon. My friends who were in the second group of people coming from the bar see us being cuffed and obviously ran away from that situation, freaking out about what was happening to us. Turns out, there was another kid who was a freshmen who also got arrested on the other side of the patty wagon. So, keep in mind, I'm drunk, so I find this situation slightly amusing. We're sliding all over the patty wagon and have no control due to the tight handcuffs, laughing in disbelief that this was my life at the moment. We finally get to the jail and we give them all our information and belongings. I got fingerprinted and a mugshot which was probably the ugliest picture of me. Moca and I were put into a tiny cell which was basically a closet with a sheet of metal as a bench and a tiny window. As we spent the next four hours in jail, my buzz wore off, a hangover set in and we didn't know what the hell was going to happen to us or when we would be let out. I had to go to the bathroom, so I tapped on the tiny window for them to open up. I asked if I could go, and they said the light wasn't working and handed me small neon light to take with me to use so I could see. Good times in jail!

Finally, after four painful hours of trying to figure out a way to lean on each other to get comfortable to get some sleep, they opened up the door handed us our summons to court and let us free. When we turned the corner, three of our friends were waiting for us! I've never felt so happy in my life. They did some detective work of their own through my friend's dad who is a cop in NY to find out what jail we were taken to. We had to pick up our belongings we dropped off at the beginning of our trip to jail and was told to look through them.
The woman then asks, "Maam, is there anything missing?"
And I respond, "My ID!."

She didn't think it was that funny but I did. So thats all that really mattered. One has to find humor in the worst situations, right? So after going to court, we were ordered to do community service and by community service, I mean pack into a van of twelve people and clean the streets of Washington DC at seven in the morning with rakes and shovels in the middle of December for two days. Somewhat painful but this whole experience taught me a lesson. Don't argue with a bouncer when they take your ID away. Offer cash!