At first I was afraid, I was petrified

I have returned...and with pictures. My only regret is that the pictures can't express the full karaoke experience. There's something special that happens when music is playing and the words start scrolling across a TV screen.


can you feel the love?

But belting out "I Will Survive" and "YMCA" wasn't the only perk of the night. Oh no, we had a belated birthday celebration for Mr. Heekin and Susan.

Just like every birthday since he was 7, before he blows out his candles Losure makes the wish that this is the year that the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles come to his door and ask him to be the fifth member

The really really cool thing about having two gigantic cakes was that there isn't too much that drunk people like better than cake, besides french fries of course.
It looks pretty now...(sort of)

But a few hours later, after some flip cup, the cake looked good enough to dig right in with hands.


Gillian tries to recall from memory the bus schedule back to Schenectady


And so goes another party at 9 Acadia.

Walk for Hunger

This weekend I'm taking part in Project Bread's Walk for Hunger. I'll be walking 20 miles through Boston, Cambridge, Brookline, and Newton to raise money for families in Massachusetts. And I'm using my blog as a plug for it, letting you know that you can sponsor me and make a donation up until the end of this week. Email me at Stacy518@gmail.com if you so desire...


Better yet, you should walk too! They even give you snacks midway through!

That is all for now...potential blackmail photos of this weekend's karaoke to follow.

Bound for the cement

Inspired by the usual graphic creativity over at sexyLosure dot com, I decided to tell a story in tonight's blog using microsoft paintbrush. The drawings help paint a better picture that I could do with words alone.

It all started last night when I decided to ride my bike to class...which meant that I'd be riding it home when class got out somewhere around 10. As I turned onto Acadia Park on my return trip home, I saw that a bunch of people were out on their porch in the apartment next door to mine:


Nice night for a bike ride

Seeing all the guys out there, I decided I wanted to look cool as I hopped off my bike. Why this seemed like a good idea (and how can you even look cool as you get off your bike)..I have no clue. Anyway, I tried to get off my bike too early, while I was still rolling down the sidewalk, and the next thing I know, my foot gets stuck trying to get over the bike and I'm lying on my side on the pavement. And all of the people on the porch just stopped talking.


It's hard to look cool when you fall off your bike.

Oh, and here's a picture of what I think might be the grossest creature on earth--a baby octopus.
If my kid comes out with a see-through head, I don't think I should have to keep it

Picky Picky

As I soaked up another episode of "Extreme Makeover Home Edition: How'd They Do That?" I got to watch my roommate once again run to get her nail clippers and cut off "extra" skin. Extra skin is skin that she thinks shouldn't be there. I say, why bother cutting it off? She just replies, "Why not?" The best part though is when she lines up on her leg the chunks of skin that she's removed from the latest procedure. As I suspected, this isn't normal. This website says:

-Individuals with CSP may pick at normal skin variations such as freckles and moles, at actual pre-existing scabs, sores or acne blemishes, or at imagined skin defects that nobody else can observe.

Check

-Skin-picking may be followed by a feeling of relief or pleasure.

Check

-Individuals with CSP often attempt to camouflage the damage caused to their skin by using make-up or wearing clothes to cover the subsequent marks and scars.

She wears sweatpants even at the beach---Check

It's grosssssss.

After 4 straight years of being in New York for Patriot's Day, I was finally back in the state that celebrates it today. Spent the day in Kenmore Square, with a couple of beers on Lansdowne St. before heading out to Comm Ave for the marathon. The only disappointment was that I was without my traditional Dairy Queen Blizzard as I watched the runners painfully pounding pavement (alliteration!! yeah!) for over 3 consecutive hours. And though it makes me feel so pathetic since I struggled this morning to make it through 2 and 1/2 miles, I always am so amazed that ANYONE is capable of running without stopping for 26.2 miles.

Let alone people who are 30, 40, even 50 or more years older than me...It's pretty amazing.

Besides my 4 year stay at Union, I've been to almost every marathon since I was 7, and I look forward to certain things every year. Besides getting a cookie dough blizzard, I like holding my hand out to slap the hands of some of the runners (just the ones in the big pack...the Kenyans tend to run by without stopping to slap my hand). Mmm sweaty germs. It's also a great feeling to cheer for someone as they run by, and see them give a smile to the crowd. Easily though the highlight is seeing the Hoyts. This year was the 24th year that the father (who is in his 60s now) pushes his quadriplegic son (who's now in his 40s) in a wheelchair.

The whole entire way. It's really incredible.

This is a true story of 7 strangers

What can $400 buy you these days?

Well, a "semester" of baby music classes in Beacon Hill, for one thing. Today was my first day of taking Henry to his once a week music class, where I sang along to a song about squirrels while I pretended I was eating nuts, and a teacher named LuLu bounced around with a smile bigger than the Cinderella at a parade at Disney world, and 8 month old Henry cried because my squirrel sounds scared him.


Later LuLu made the mommies and nannies stand in the middle of the circle and pretend we were church bells

The cool thing is that the music class is inside the old fire station in Beacon Hill that the cast of Real World Boston lived in a few years ago. It's now a community center. I looked hard, but I didn't see any leftover beer cans from the drunken season.


But the picture fun doesn't end there. Last week I won a pair of tickets to the "red carpet arrivals" at Fenway for the premiere of Fever Pitch. I saw Jimmy Fallon, Drew Barrymore, a bunch of the Sox like Damon who didn't stop loving himself for 2 hours, Varitek, and Trot, plus Tom Brady and some other Pats, and others. But I only got my picture taken with one celebrity:

Wally the Green Monster kissed me after this picture was taken

Monday Monday Monday

In honor of yesterday being opening day for the sox, I give you this link, with pictures of how Johnny Damon spent the offseason. He may not be the most eloquent speaker, but he sure does have pretty hair and can party better than most 22 year olds I know.


I have a lot to do in the next month and a half, which makes me sad because I like doing nothing. This weekend I spent a little too much time playing what could be considered inappropriate drinking games about the Pope, Frank Perdue, and Terri Schiavo, though I like to think that we played them more as a tribute to their lasting legacy. No? Now though I have lots of work to catch up on, and not enough sleep to do it on, which makes me do dumb stuff like forget to get off the T at porter square and keep going until I realize I'm at Davis Square.

My new box of Cheerios had a prize in it this morning though, which kind of makes up for it...but I still don't understand why food needs "prizes" to make them enjoyable.


"Instead of number 16, cluck like a chicken and flap your wings in the direction of the next person"

More fun than the SATs

I have 4 kinds of silly putty, including one with glitter and one that glows in the dark. I have a miniature etch-a-sketch. A month ago I rollerbladed around my apartment. In short, I always suspected that I'm not actually 22. The online quiz people agree. I'm 18.

13-19: You are a teenager at heart. You question authority and are still trying to find your place in this world.

What Age Do You Act?


And then I clicked around some more, because I figured if I'm 18, I might as well do all those dumb quizzes I liked to do then. I found out stuff like

You Belong in 1974

If you scored... 1970 - 1979: Bold and brash, you take life by the horns. Whether you're partying or protesting, you give it your all! Your Brain is 66.67% Female, 33.33% Male Your brain leans female You think with your heart, not your head Sweet and considerate, you are a giver But you're tough enough not to let anyone take advantage of you!

and the most inappropriate,

You are

What Rejected Crayon Are You?

What does it all mean? I don't know. Go learn more about yourself.