Lady movie time

I had an ultimate lady weekend, which included bonding time over two great movies of yore.

The first one was Reese Witherspoon’s very first movie, The Man in the Moon. I bought this over the summer for $5 at Stop and Shop because I used to be obsessed with it when I was little. Why was I obsessed with it? Because I was a freak and I loved to watch only traumatizing dramas.

Worst sister ever.

Worst sister ever.

The movie follows 14-year-old Resse as she falls in love for the first time in 1950s Louisiana. But her older sister is a B and snatches up her man, which is bad enough, but after that the whole thing gets even more depressing. I won’t give it away, I guess.

What’s good about it: Reese looks exactly the same – and she has a partial nude scene, bold moves little Reese. Also, she’s a huge sassafrass.

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The second movie we watched I stealthily recorded off Lifetime because my roommates hadn’t seen it, which is a sin – I’m talking about Ghost, obvi.

Ghost Kiss. Nice.

Ghost Kiss. Nice.

Whoopi Goldberg is reasons 1-9 out of the 10 reasons you should see this movie if you haven’t already (idiot). Reason number 10 is the face Patrick Swayze makes when he sees his own dead body after being murdered by that fool Willie Lopez.

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Back in Boston

I’ve been lacking in posts lately because I’ve been feeling very uninspired and lazy – probably because it’s summer and I’d rather be on the beach.

Anyway, I had my first full Boston weekend in a long time this week. I’ve been doing one-night trips lately, but in summer tradition, I had to dedicate a full 2 days to the lesser of this area’s two great cities (just saying). It’s also tradition that I write about these weekends, so here it is. Boston weekend round-up:

“I can ride on mi pone.”

Nasty Pony. A very important part of my trip this weekend, was a little guy named Pone. I’m not saying you HAVE to buy an inflatable unicorn/anteater in order to have fun in Boston; I’m just saying that you should.

Clubs and gay friends. When I think Boston, I think Irish pubs (among other things), but a good thing to do is go to a club with a couple gay guys because this makes you fabulous. You will probably meet mostly unattractive people, but the flashing lights and faux snow/glitter make everyone look better. If you get overwhelmed, you can go on an adventure to the bar next door, but it will probably not be fun. You will also meet a lot of foreigners at a club because, after all, those Euros love clubbing. And this brings me to my next point…

My late-night Chinese boyfriend.

Australians. Boston in the summer is crawling with Irishman and Australians, so it’s in your best interest to befriend at least one because, if you don’t, you may need to wait a whole year for them to come back. Last year, I ate mac and cheese on the curb in front on 7-11 with a couple Irishman. This year, I chose late-night Chinese food with an Australian. All I can tell you about him is that he ordered sesame chicken and he has never seen a kangaroo. Upon learning this, I decided he was not a very good Australian so I finished my dumplings and went home.

Emerald Lounge

Tacky lounge. Sometimes you find yourself sans entourage, but as long as you have one lady on your side, adventures await. On a night like this, you should just go into somewhere you’ve never been; choose the first place that catches your eye. Naturally, the first place that caught our eye was the one that was glowing green: Emerald Lounge. This ended up being a brand new Wizard-of-Oz-themed 50s/80s/Pulp-Fiction-esque bar and lounge with a patio that you could only sit on if you ordered an olive plate. The martini glasses were embellished with emeralds and they offered you your check in a light-up book. Unfortunately, we were not able to soak in all the kitsch (as my mom would say) decor because we were verbally accosted by men and had to move on.

Lobster. If you want to be classy, you have to eat lobster twice in one night. Surprisingly, lobster BLTs are delicious and you can get one at 2am for only $7. It’s a great way to come full circle on a night that started with a lobster dinner.

Tip: On a semi-unrelated note, if your feet hurt in your heels, you can get free Band-Aids from the pharmacist at CVS. I think this goes for any city, but I could be wrong.

I knew it would happen!

So Friday I said I would be partying it up with Pitbull, and I bet you didn’t believe me. Well believe it. Through a string of extremely fortunate events, two of my ladies and I ended up in an intimate gathering with Mr. Worldwide (I like to call him Armando now that we’re bffs) and Marc Anthony in their hotel suite.

- Hanging with Pitbull in his suite at Foxwoods...standard night -

Here’s how it happened: Eight of us ladies decided that we should definitely go to the Pitbull concert mostly because it would be fun and outrageous but also because the tickets were only $20. So we were hanging out in our room before the concert talking about how we saw James Woods in line at Panera and one lady decided to make friends with the randos next door. Then we went off to the concert, which was awesome – surprise guest was Marc Anthony.

After that we obvi. had to go back to the room and drink before going to Shrine because who wants to buy a $12 vodka soda when you have a perfectly good bottle of Barefoot pinot in the room? Anyway, to our surprise, not only did we find a wheel chair in the hallway (jackpot) but our new friends, Lonesome George and Normal-sized Waye, from next door had won $10,000 at the casino and stuck this note onto our door with gum (classy):

Okay, deal; we’ll meet you at your $600 VIP table, no problem. We weren’t there for more than 10 minutes when Pitbull, Marc Anthony and their crew walk in. We all got to hug them and shake hands etc. and then they basically turned around and left. Being the scrappy ladies that we are, three of us had moved over to the balcony to get closer to the celebs watch everyone dancing downstairs. One of my ladies caught some man’s attention and all of the sudden we were being led through the kitchen and back to the service elevator with some chicks from Paramus and a Ukranian woman. The first elevator was too full so we had to wait for a second one, but as the doors closed we saw Pitbull and Marc.

The rest is kind of a blur. First we were in one room, then we were in a new room with glasses of Grey Goose (not on the rocks) in our hands. Then we were in a living room getting offered beer from a bar tender and listening to Pitbull’s iPod.

I was starstruck for a few minutes, but then everyone was so nice and the party was so laid-back that we just started owning the place. I helped Pitbull DJ the party.

“Um, I don’t like this one, Pitbull.”

“Okay, well how about this song? You’ll like it, it’s straight from Cuba.”

P.S. in case you were wondering, Pitbull listens to normal music. He put on “Mr. Saxobeat,” and “Take Over Control” and some of his own songs (are they under “me” in his iPod?). Also in case you were wondering, he does have eyes behind his sunglasses.

We danced with their crew and my lady schmoozed it with Marc Anthoy’s brother and nephew/cousin (exact relationship is unclear due to aforementioned Grey Goose). We also got invited to the MTV VMAs next weekend. We’re supposed to get our tickets by emailing some sketchy address…haven’t heard back about that one yet. But I’m on a lucky streak so who knows!

Then to be honest, we really just wanted to go back to the club so we gave our buddy, Pitbull, a hug and a kiss on the cheek and he told us he was so happy we came and we left to find our other five ladies who were fuming because we ditched them. But we weren’t allowed to answer our phones in the secret party!

Meanwhile, our friends, Lady S and Lady B, had been wandering the casino trying to find the Pitbull party and they wound up in the security office, and then they crashed an all-Black wedding and tried to say they were third cousins of the bride. Nice try, girls. Then they met Jenna Marbles and she gave them attitude.

The night ended with some pizza with Pitbull’s opening act – I don’t remember his name but he wasn’t at the after party so I am obviously more famous than he is.

Moral of the story: I meet celebrities, always.

I DID see someone famous!

I guess meeting celebrities is like finding true love: it happens when you stop looking… okay, just kidding. But it’s kind of true. After many visits to Greenwich Ave. in hopes of a celeb-sighting, I finally met someone – and I wasn’t looking. I was minding my own business being reckless at Tiernan’s, a bar in Stamford, when Katherine Heigl (who is filming The Big Wedding in Greenwich) just came walking through the door and ordered a dirty martini! Well, it turns out I do not get start-struck. I walked right up to her and had a casual conversation. Then I convinced her to take a picture with my ladies and me!

- Hanging with my new friend, Kate Heigl -

How to have a great LADIES day

I had such a great weekend with my Boston ladies followed by a hilarious Monday wine-night with my home ladies. So, I was thinking about what an epic LADIES day it would be if all of my recent lady activities were combined into one super-sized day.

Here’s how it would go:

  • Spend all day frying at the beach.

  • Go home and watch Hot Tub Time Machine (totally underrated movie) while swigging pinot grigio and eating oreo ice-cream-sandwiches.
  • Follow that hilarious movie with something equally hilarious (more so due to the pinot) such as an episode of Rocko’s Modern Life – I recommend the one where he goes to Paris. Side note: why did 90s cartoons consist of so much screaming?
  • Put on your hot-girl disguises and make your way through rough cobble-stone-terrain in heels to get your dance on and give randos your number.

- Mischa Barton follows this formula -

  • Top off your night by walking to 7-11 at 2 am to microwave some frozen Stouffer’s mac and cheese and eat it outside on the curb. Offer some to the group of Irishman that inevitably finds you because that’s what happens in Boston.

Hey ladies, let’s watch Bridesmaids

- "But you're like really the female Hangover, Bridesmaids" - But you're like really pretty -

My Saturday night started out with a lot of potential. Two of my ladies and I decided on a whim that we should go see Third Eye Blind for 15 dollars in town. Cheap concert + middle school memories + booze = solid plan. That is until we got there too late and they wouldn’t let us in.

Okay, so we’ll just do what we always do on Saturday – go drink. Also a solid plan until one of the ladies – let’s call her Brittany (mostly because her name is Brittany) – announces she has no ID because she didn’t realize she would be going anywhere besides work. Did you realize you would be driving to work, Brit? Not that it even matters because her license is suspended anyway – I love my hot mess lady. Anyway, so we tried a couple dive bars thinking maybe she looked old and sophisticated enough to not get carded, but that was not the case.

After a trip through the Wendy’s drive-through and a stop at the gas station to listen to a domestic dispute going on in the parking lot, it dawned on us how to save our night. “Hey ladies, let’s watch Bridesmaids!”

So we got to the theater an hour and a half early for the 11:30 showing, and hung out with the 13-year-olds loitering by the video games for a while until we decided to get our tickets. And, of course, we got carded for the R-rated movie! Now, a bouncer is one thing, but a high-schooler working at the movies? There’s no way we were going to let her ruin our plans, so we told the bitch off and bought our tickets (and by told the bitch off I mean convinced her with minimal effort that our 22-year-old friend was in fact not a junior in high school. She could tell because she probably was a junior in high school).

Finally, it’s time to watch Bridesmaids.

The movie has been called the female Hangover and that is not completely inaccurate. It’s not as funny as the Hangover, but I still almost peed a couple times – this probably has something to do with the fact the Kristin Wiig, the best thing to happen to SNL in a while, is one the writers.

- Melissa McCarthy in Bridesmaids -

It’s definitely a ladies night movie, but it’s not a chick flick. It’s vulgar and disgusting and hilarious (I could have done without the diarrhea in the sink scene that almost made me puke, though). It breaks the chick flick mold in a couple ways besides just the brash humor. The main characters (Kristen Wiig, Maya RudolphWendi McLendon-Covey, Ellie Kemper, Melissa McCarthy) are average looking women with average lives. Nothing about the women is glamorized – even the sex scenes are super awkward and not hot at all. Helen (Rose Byrne), the beauty of the bunch and a real snobby B, is the exception.

However, The best part of the whole movie and the thing that had me crying was seeing sweet Sookie from Gilmore Girls (Melissa McCarthy) play a disgusting, crude, sex fiend who actually turns out to be a great friend in the end. Just thinking about her has me stifling laughter here in my cubicle. So, if for no other reason, go see bridesmaids just to see Sookie steal 9 puppies from a bridal shower and try to plan a fight club bachelorette party.