Also, obsessive-compulsive word of the month: serendipitous. I just can't stop using it.
Oddly the weekend I chose to start blogging was an incredibly busy one. So I'm going to go ahead and borrow a style that It Has To Be Zachary often employs to organize his European adventures. PS: My brother is the funniest person I know, and you should read his blog.
Celebrate Life, Relay for Life
Friday night I participated in the American Cancer Society Relay For Life of Medford-Somerville. We arrived around 6:30 at the tiny Hormel Stadium in Medford, where the field (the pitch, as my Irish teammate called it) was surrounded by a ring of people in tents, blankets, chairs, and barbeques, and enclosed in the track where folks were already walking.
It was my first relay, and I had no idea what to expect, but my other teammates arrived -- along with my friend who is a survivor and now works at the ACS -- and we kicked it into gear. By the time we headed out at midnight, we racked in a total of 10K. The event was definitely an emotional roller-coaster -- and it should be -- it's meant to celebrate the lives of those living with cancer, those who have beaten it, and those who we've lost to it.
For example, there's one ceremony that's done at every relay called the Luminaria, in which paper bags set along the track are lit when it gets dark, along with the words "HOPE" and "CURE" written in the bleachers. Sad (and happy) speeches were made about the ones we've lost (and still have), followed by a silent procession of everyone around the track, to the background of bagpipes. Cancer is one of those things that has touched everyone's life in one way or another, and that's when it really hit me. It was powerful, and it was hard to keep it together. When the procession silently returned to the field -- people crying and hugging -- the first words that returned to me were, "Well that was the shittiest five minutes of my life," and after the blank stares, "Good-shitty." But suddenly, there was this incredibly stark, Dickensian moment, in which the DJ tried to encourage us to celebrate the lives of those who have died or are dying... and proceeded to play Celebration by Kool & the Gang, accompanied by flashing disco lights. That's a real-life transition for you, Dickens.
But from mourning weeds to holiday garments we went, and we started to dance a little. In addition to walking, our team all sat around and engaged in activities that you might have done when you were camping as a teenager -- magic tricks with cards, the hand-slapping game, staring contests, all while munching on pizza and Cheddar Bunnies. So much camaraderie! Oh I just love it. It was the best night I've had in awhile.
Incidentally you can still donate -- at least until August -- on my fundraising page here.
Don't Be a Drag Just Be a Queen
If you know me, you know that like Kathy Griffin, I love my gays. I'm a child of musical theatre, so it's just inevitable that I miss my boys. So you can imagine how elated I was when one of my Relay teammates suggested we get out and support the Boston Gay Pride Parade and post-parade festival, which was happening in the Government Center area the next day. This about sums it up:
Yup that's a bikini. Yup those are bubbles. Yup that's the Statehouse in the background.
The parade was chock-full of shirtless dancers, fabulous drag queens, and (of course) peaceful protests -- not to mention we left with a fine booty of free beads, stickers, and bags. Yay pride! There was also a great festival in Government Center after, where I got some five-dollar henna. Well, you get what you pay for -- I had two coworkers tell me the following Monday that it looked like someone magic-markered my hand. Now I have it for ten days... holla?
Incidentally, we went out to lunch at Zuma in Faneuil Hall, where I'm surprised that I've never been. Famously home to the $4 margarita, you'll find decent tacos and other Mexican small plates ranging from $2-3 apiece. I was surprised to find such cheap eats in such a touristy area!
Zuzu's Petals!
Waddya know about that. (0:50)
Everyone has a friend who is incredibly connected; who always knows exactly what's going on where, what's free, what underground show is going on, or what have you. You know, the friend that texts you mid-afternoon on a Friday saying, "Would you pay 11 bucks to see a freak show?" That one. Well, that friend of mine led me to Central Square on Saturday night to see some live music at the Middle East and then go to Zuzu bar after, where I'd never been. New places, new faces, oh joy!
Apparently I talk about the Middle East a lot -- or so says my mother -- and let's just say I have a mild obsession with the place. Free live music most weekend nights, baklava for $2.95, and three (that's right, three) variations on that holy nectar of the gods, the honorable Dark n' Stormy. I'm hooked already. Saturday there was a blues band playing -- not the head-bopping kind, but the head-shaking kind -- and the electric organist was absolutely dirty. Can't remember their name for the life of me, but they had every heavily-intoxicated human in the joint up and dancing.
My only complaint about the Middle East: The one bathroom stall is unisex. Yeah. Drunk Boys. Gross.
My friend and I sauntered over to Zuzu, where I now fully intend to spend ALL of my free weekend nights. You walk in, and it just oozes Cambridge-hip. Mood lighting, fringed lamps, leather couches, bartender with a baller 'fro and yellow costume beads... in word, Hipster Heaven. All night the DJ played 50's jive, upbeat jazz, and big band -- incredibly refreshing coming from your typical top-40, Rhianna-infused club scene. It was a fun night overall -- just fun -- we found a group of guys and swing-danced with them. Five stars, Zuzu, I'll be back.
Well, that was my epic weekend. Watch this space for a movie reviews -- I saw Bridesmaids this weekend (meh), and am starting a three-week installment of Tuesday LOTR marathoning, courtesy of Legacy Place in Dedham. Yup. All three Peter Jackson films on the big screen once again. I. DIE.
Until next time, biddies.
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