I’m gonna start this blog by saying, I’m a terrible blogger. I really am. Want a 40 page story on a serial killer? Yeah, okay. I can do that.
Want random notes about my thoughts and life?
Nooooot gonna happen.
But seeing as I’ve finally gotten around to getting this thing up I see it a shame to not use the blog feature, so here’s my first and possibly (although I’ll try to remember to update) only blog.
I stayed this weekend at Bunni’s house. Bunni is a complex, hyper, random, enthusiastic, sarcastic, obnoxious, multi-hair colored college student who lives up Northern MA.
She’s one of my best friends, and spending time with her is always an interesting (although sometimes a bit painful) adventure.
We never really plan what we’re gonna do when I’m up there. Most of the time I stay up there so we can both go to a Homeschool party that’s thrown once a month by a Local-Homeschoolers Co-op. So we hang around till its time to leave, party till its time to go home, make a lovely pot of Vodka pasta that we (usually) are kind enough to share with her amazing, and quirky family, then spend the next day in bed playing Kingdom hearts because we hurt to much and are way too sleepy to be bothered rising to meet the day.
Either that or we Concert. Bunni is my official ‘Concert Buddy’ who’s braved many a mosh pit alongside me.
This weekend we did neither. Fortunately or Unfortunately, I do not know.
Friday, I got to Bunni’s roughly around 3PM. Bunni lives in the woods.
Actually, Bunni lives in one of those houses that have horror movies happen to them. Yes. Happen. To. Them.
This is something I never fail to mention.
I walked up her long-ass driveway, which, until that moment, I had only driven up and met up with her amazing dad who was on his way out. We talked for a bit about the chickens, Bunni, and Darla, the resident cow who was always getting stuck somewhere, and I proceeded up to the house.
What is it with people who live in horror movie houses? Never locking they’re doors.
“OMG BRIANNA YOU DIDN”T KNOCK! YOU ARE SO RUDE!” Was how I was greeted when I walked up behind Bunni without her noticing.
We talked for a bit, and Bunni convinced me to put on her Formal dress or her ‘pretty, pretty princess dress’ as she calls it, it’s hot pink. And fluffy. Then she sits me down to a movie that she has picked special for this occasion. “it’s ten hours long!’ she informs me. To which I laugh. Thinking she’s going overboard. Bunni always goes overboard. Who would have thought that THIS was the thing she was being honest about?
Anyway, back to the real story.
This weekend was Anime Boston, largest Anime Con in New England, and while Both Bunni and I were wayyyy to broke to actually buy tickets so late, or stay in the hotel our friends ‘conveniently’ forgot to mention to us till Saturday afternoon (thanks, assholes) we decided to venture into Boston anyway, to meet up with a few friends, and generally enjoy the con experience, and laugh at bad cosplayers.
It started Saturday morning at South Station, where after purchasing half a dozen donuts for the trip, Bunni mixed up the weekend and weekday train schedules. And I realized I’d lost some of my con-intended cash. Great way to start the day eh?
But not all was lost!
Turned out that wasn’t at all a problem, and for an extra two bucks we could take a much more comfy and much less dirty bus.
When we got into Boston, Bunni decided she wanted to run real quick over to China Town to buy some Asian Candies, I wanted her to wait till we got to the con, but noooooo, Asian Candy was needed. Before I continue with this story I’d like to mention that I have very slight OCD about certain things. Like restaurants, and smells. I’m pretty high maintenance when it comes to where I’ll eat and sleep. Anyway, My OCD has led to the nickname of “Dommers” which is a cross between Hanners of the Questionable Content webcomic, and a Dominatrix (we’ll cover that story another time). Anyway, lets just say, dirty places and Dommers don’t mix well.
China Town + Dommers = Hell.
But anyway, what’s a little dirt and a couple nasty smells right?
Nothing Dommers can’t handle.
I’ve failed to mention up to this point that I’m also a die-hard vegetarian, fully for environmental and animal-rights purposes.
So, lets see.
Terrible smells, dirty food places, dirty….things, and live chicken/fish killings.
I was wrong before.
NOW it’s hell.
After about ten minutes of walking around China town and fighting with Bunni about my increasing J-walking (“YOU’RE GONNA GET ME KILLED! THE LIGHT DOESN”T SAY WE CAN CROSS!” “The nearest cars almost a mile away!” “But it sayssss!”)
I finally pull out my Verizon cell phone that has Verizon’s handy-dandy built in GPS system. (This is very important for the future of this story) do a local search, and find the store Bunni had been so looking for.
So, it’s also a fish market.
A small, crowded, dirty, smelly, live fish market.
Two panic attacks later, and several ‘BUT THE POOR FISH!”, Bunni finally has found all of her candy, and we check out. I later decided that the smell of China Town is something you don’t get off your clothes.
Unless you set them on fire of course.
So, after China town, we’re off to the Hynes center, with the help of the before-mentioned handy dandy GPS.
An hour and a half later and 2 miles we get to the convention center,
Or so the handy-fucking-dandy GPS says.
How Verizon in it’s infinite wisdom confused the Boston Convention center and the HYNES Convention center –which are separated by 3 miles and a bridge, is totally beyond me. But I digress.
Another 45 minutes later over 20 ‘don’t cross!’s, 50 ‘fuck’s, , 30 minutes of talking about how terribly angry we were at several different friends and acquaintances, we find ourselves on Mass Ave. May I also mention I’m still carrying that fucking box of donuts?
Back to arriving at Mass ave…
Thank the gods.
After another 30 minutes of aimless wandering, we found the convention center (which we knew was there all along, really).
Actually Bunni found it, she described it as follows:
‘And suddenly, I look up, and I see a very phallic shaped tower, pointing us home!’
Anyway, I call the other Brianna. Who, in my circle of friends is known as the other Brianna, to avoid lots of ‘Hey! I never said that!’s and ‘I never touched him!’s.
We told her we were in front of one of the various stores in the mall, and she said she’d meet us in a few.
While sitting in front of Franklin Covey, I’m randomly screaming at every really good cosplayer I see. (“stay cute!” “you’re the best Riku I’ve ever seen!” “You are beautiful!” *heart signs, heart signs, heart signs*) Because, in those situations, I have no shame, and I’m not at all shy. Unfortunately, this is also the same for Bunni.
I’d like to mention at this point that my friends are always trying to set me up. I’ve been single for a really long time and it’s ‘unnatural’ and apparently I’m ‘desperate’ wow. Thanks guys.
I’d also like to mention my extreme attraction and weakness for emo boys. I really, really, really really, like emo boys. Really.
So, as we’re leaning up against the glass windows of Franklin Covey, (much to the discomfort of the girl working inside) a very adorable emo boy walking by with a few friends. I point him out to Bunni, and comment off handedly about how hot he is.
Several minutes later (as we’re still waiting for the other Brianna) said emo boy, walks by again. Bunni, being too much like me for her own good yells, ‘SHE LOVES YOU!’ at the top of her lungs, and when the poor boy turns around she points to me. He made a heart at me and walked away.
Oh. If only that was the end of it.
But that comes later.
So, The other Brianna finally arrives in a wind of black lace and corsets. She then joins us in a mini-hate fest (yes, we ARE STILL sitting in front of Franklin Covey, only now there are three of us.) The other Brianna is an amazing artist, a talent that I myself will never possess; she rummaged through her bag as I was yelling ‘YOUR ADORABLE!’ at a random Riku, and pulled out two paper children, one of myself, and one of Bunni. They were absolutely adorable, and she got everything from facial expressions, to outfits perfect. Paper children are awesome. Brianna’s paper children rule.
After several minutes someone suggested we move closer to the actual con and maybe run-into someone we knew. I was still carrying a box with four donuts left. This sprouted an idea.
Less then ten minutes later, I’d given away 3 of the donuts that were left to cosplayers because ‘Your cute and deserve a donut!’ This was amazingly fun and I ended up buying another dozen donuts, because I really like meeting new people, and sometimes scaring them. We sat directly outside the convention center’s entrance to the mall, and handed out donuts
Brianna, (who had been TRYING to get me to sit still so she could draw another paper child) was given my camera and was put in charge of taking pictures of cosplayers with donuts. While Bunni, the other Brianna, and myself all decided who was adorable and needed a donut.
11 of those donuts went to girls. Just an FYI, you male cosplayers seriously need to step up your game.
About an hour and a half into our donut-escapade (come on we were VERY particular, and several people refused donuts, especially when Bunni tried to hit on them…I did mention Bunni is bi right? No? Well, it doesn’t matter much. But she did end up pouting because ‘all the good girls are taken!’) before mentioned cute emo-boy was walking by, and Bunni, who has no shame, took our box of donuts over to him.
The following conversation ensued.
Bunni: I’m bribing you with a donut, what’s your sexual preference and your relationship status?
Emo boy: Oh. Donuts. *picks donut* Straight and single.
Bunni: (at this point I’m behind her, curious as to what she’s doing): Good. Can you write down your number for *grabs me* my friend here. (Somewhere behind me the other Brianna is in hysterics)
Emo boy: Sure thing, do you have a pen?
Bunni: YES! I do! You can write on the donut box
(at this point I decide to be somewhat involved in my ‘love life’)
Me: You might…also want to write your name on that.
Emo Boy: oh. That’s right.
Bunni: Thank you! She’ll call you!
Emo boy-now-known-as-Tyler: Just so you know, I would have given you my number anyway; you didn’t have to give me a donut.
I now have a Donut box with a random boys name and number on it. Normally I would have been thrilled. If my crazy-ass friends hadn’t meddled. Darn Crazy ass friends.
So, At this point, the other Brianna is finishing up a second paper child of me (she’s agreed to do every emoti-con of me including captions) and is talking about what time she needs to get back inside for a swap meet, Bunni is making wedding plans. No. Really. Wedding. Plans. And I’m getting over the whole joy of donut giving, so I find 2 adorable 10 year old’s dressed as L from death note, and whoever the albino is from Death note. And give them what’s left of the donuts (apparently this crossed a line of creepy as Brianna decided I WAS that stranger giving candy to small children) Where WERE they’re parents anyway?
After another hour of hanging with Brianna and commenting on cosplayers, it was time to head back to south station before we missed our bus. On our long walk back, Bunni and I stop into a costume shop, which didn’t let you try on wigs without buying things (faillll) and stopped for lunch at Spikes Hot dogs, who at some point lost our order, Bunni, who at this point in the day was for some reason really P.O’ed ended up getting us free hot dogs, or veggie hot dogs in my case. Either way. It was free.
Hell has no fury like an angry Rabbit. I mean Bunni. Angry. Bunni.
So, after a small drama about which bus we were taking (I WAS RIGHT, just for the record) I ended up sitting next to a guy with the Boston Phoneix, and while he was pointedly ignoring me, and flipping through the pages I noticed a half page add for a ‘Boy’s like girls’ concert, featuring NeverShoutNever. Both of which are big favorites of Bunni and myself.
Plans were made by the end of the bus ride.
Bunni’s Brother, who at this point I had never met (he’s always away at college and doing high IQ smart once-was-a-homeschooler stuff) picked us up. Brid, who was still angry about whatever she was angry at, introduced us. “Brother, this is Brianna, Brianna – Brother”
An hour later we find ourselves back at Bunni’s house, after making a large pan of Vodka pasta, We sit down for the rest of the ten-hour movie. And eventually ended up going to sleep.
Sunday, I dealt with 6 hours of Bunni trying to get me to call emo-boy-now-known-as-tyler. And Bunni dealt with 6 hours of me trying to get her to let me use her computer to inter-stalk emo-boy-now-known-as-tyler.
“YOU DO NOT NEED TO STALK SOMEONE BEFORE YOU CALL THEM! It’s creepy and weird!”
“it’s like doing a back round check on a boyfriend!”
“Which is also CREEPY AND WEIRD”
“What if it’s a coworker?”
(Just FYI: His numbers unlisted, and I can’t find his last name.)
Inter-stalking is what led me to write this blog.
Well, everyone knows it’s easier to stalk someone via myspace then facebook. So I started up my myspace account, and after NOT finding emo-boy-now-known-as-tyler, I decided to actually start using myspace to help me in the future if I need to inter-stalk.
Is that weird?
Well, it’s 11PM now, I’ve gotten maybe eight hours of sleep the last two nights and I’m about to fall asleep. Next two me are the four bags I bought with me on my 3 day trip (pack light? That IS packing light.), the cover of a donut box, some wrappers from asian candy, my bus ticket, and several empty energy drink cans…I’ll pick it all up tomorrow. When I decided to get up.
Anyway here’s my first blog. Pray I keep with it.
So, who thinks I should call the-emo-boy-now-known-as-tyler?