Hooves.

Yesterday at work, this guy was telling me about his knowledge of hooves. He said that he read a book once and the protagonist was especially infatuated by goat hooves, so now he knows a lot about them. He said, I looked like I would appreciate some hoof knowledge. So he told me everything he knew. It took 14 minutes.

Chelsea Clinton Jokes Are Stupid.

The other night, I was working the register. And this guy comes up to me with a single can of beer, pays for it in dimes, sees my name, and says,
"Oh, Chelsea, I'm sorry to hear about your mother's death." And I said,
"Well thanks, but my mother didn't die." And then he said something, that was probably the punchline of the joke he was trying to tell, but I couldn't hear because it was drowned out by an infant screaming. And then he laughed a creepy Santa laugh and said,
"Ouch, that's a bad joke! But you look like her! You must be related!" Alas, I hadn't heard the joke in the first place so I said,
"Yowzers! Yeah...psh...what a terrible joke!" And tried to look convincingly disgusted, even though I was really, very confused. And then he said something about Hilary Clinton, opened his beer, and left, so I assume it was a derogatory Chelsea Clinton joke that I happened to be the butt of...

Also, on a side note: I feel like everyone needs to begin to realize that just because two people have the same first name, it does not make them related. In any way.

Also, on another, side-side note: I don't look like Chelsea Clinton.

Halloween Costume Fun.

In my attempts to find a Halloween costume (My friend and I are being Sherlock and Watson because we hellza classy) I stumbled upon a scary neighborhood. We started at Buffalo Exchange, and that was a fail, so we went across the street to the "Halloween Store". It wasn't a real Halloween store. It was a barber shop, and the barber decided to buy a shit ton of cheap costumes online, and then sell them illegally in his store for double the price. There were two sides to the store, and to get from one to the other, you had to go through this creepy back storage room with lots of paint and ladders and defective masks.

Also, the barber continued cutting hair the entire time we were there, made evident by the (didn't used to be) bald guy sitting in the chair, and the hair all over the floor.

Good thing I had my TJ's box cutter, and pepper spray. 

Chelsea, The Bartender.

In a nut shell...

Within the first week of my arrival in Boston, my mom met this really nice couple who offered their home for her to stay in while I was moving in. She ended up giving them my number in case they ever needed a house sitter or a dog walker, or something like that. So a week ago, the lady texted me and asked if I was interested in helping them out with her party in celebration of her graduation from Grad school. And I said yes, assuming it would be basic hosting, taking coats showing people where the bathroom was and crap like that.

So, when I got off the subway in their neighborhood, I find the part of Boston that they live in to be the Bostonian equivalent of Richmond, CA, only 923 times sketchier (There were legitimate cocaine deals going down right outside the T, and gang rivalries getting in each others faces next to the various liquor stores.) And when I called her to tell her I was at the station, she made it very clear for me to stay inside until her husband came to pick me up.

Then, I got to the party, and she informed me that I would actually be serving drinks to everyone instead, and so I spent the evening bartending. It was legit. I opened like, 5 bottles of wine all by myself. Made Napa Valley (and my wine industrial father) proud. Then after their 8th tequila shot and 5th glass of Merlot, everyone was more or less wasted. So they called a taxi for me back to the subway station because they were obviously incapable of driving, paid for my cab and gave me a hundred dollars for three hours of work. (That's wazzup!!)

I luckily got on the last train out of Sketchytown, and as I sat down, some guy in the corner, was like, "Ooh, I see thighs." (I was wearing a dress) "I won't be able to stop staring at your legs until you get off the train." So I glared at him for a solid ten seconds and looked away. And then he started talking about some other woman on the train who was filing her nails, and then asked if anyone would laugh if he started doing the running man.

Then I transferred onto the Green Line, that was headed in the direction of my dorm, and a guy with headphones sat down next to me. And these two really drunk girls walked on. And they were super loud and obnoxious and stupid, and about halfway through the ride, they're like, "Are weeeee on the right train???" And they asked some dude if it was the right train to Harvard Square, and he said no. So they started arguing and yelling, and then got off. And then the guy next to me, looks at me, and says, "No, they were on the right train, but this is gonna be a long night for them regardless of the train they're on..."

Then I start talking to the guy next to me, and he's telling me all about his life, living with his parents, going to community college, aspiring musician, Etc. (He's like, 25) and after he's finished his memoir, he abruptly and awkwardly asks me if I've heard any good music lately...Then he tells me he's on his way to meet his friend, Dave. But he doesn't know why, because they just hang out, and "he has other invites, but keeps going back to Dave for some reason, and doesn't know if Dave is expecting more". (This is when I questioned whether he was gay or not. And decided he was.). Then we talked more, and I was so caught up in the conversation, that I didn't hear the driver tell us the train was going express to Washington St. Which is 8 miles north of where I needed to be.

So I get off at Washington St. say goodbye to my new friend, and wait for the last train going back the way I came to campus. And after 20 minutes of standing in the rain, it finally comes, and I sit across from this girl who keeps taking pictures of herself with her flip phone. And after 15 minutes my stop comes up, and I have to beg the driver to let me out. (By this time, It's like 1am.) And since I'm charming and have charisma, he lets me out. And then some frat guys try to get me to come to their party. And I say no. And then I slept like a baby.

It was the sketchiest night I've had in Boston thus far.

The End.

When I Grow Up.

The first week has been overwhelming. In good way. Tons of kids whose names I can't remember, professors who give BU portal instructions I don't understand. Public transportation systems that slightly confuse me, and long walks to class in the rain. But amidst the awkward conversations about names and classes and majors, we are asked what we want to pursue as a career. "When we grow up." I'd like to think I'm already grown up. Hah. That's rich. But this thought intrigued me, so I put together this list of occupations I would like to have 5, 10, 15 years from now, to look back at, in case I find myself in a hiring jam, and need some back-up options. It's funny because several of them are found on the 2011 Worst jobs List... Awkward.

In no particular order:

1. Bridge toll collector. Come on! It's every little girls' dream to collect an obscene amount of money for the government for an obscene amount of time. Every. Single. Day!
2. A Welder. I like the welding masks. They remind me of robots. I would kill to be a legit robot. And talk like a robot. I. Am. ChelseaBot.
3. Taxi Driver. Your life is in my hands. Talk about a power trip opportunity.
4. Lumberjack. Carrie Nation status. Roaming the forests and chopping up wood. So all of my forest critter friends can stay warm during the winter months.
5. Pig Farmer. If nothing else, I'm sure I could acquire a damn good hog impersonation.
6. Garbage Collector. One man's trash is another man's treasure. I just happen to only find trash. And look at shiny bins at the trash center. And maybe even stumble upon Sheriff Woody and friends in the fiery furnace.
7. Roofer. I spend most of my time on roofs anyways. It would be so fun. And I'd get to yell "LOOK OUT BELOW" at least 20 times a day.
8. Construction Worker. If I can build it in Legos, I can build it in real people things.
9. Mail Carrier. I can make peoples' day by bringing them happy surprises, like Birthday cards, and Paychecks, and Inheritance Announcements!!!
10. Clown. This one doesn't need explanation. It's basically just the coolest job ever.

Feed The Birds, Tuppence a (BB-Gun).

Yesterday, I was at my best friends' house. Which isn't normally a surprise because I basically live there. And we were all in the kitchen trying to convince her younger brother to make us pancakes for dinner. He deftly responded, "No" and walked out of the room in his trendy striped cardigan, non-prescription lenses, and BB-gun. Ten minutes later, we hear sounds that resemble party poppers and some commotion from the Bible Study Group across the house. I look out the kitchen window to see Pickles, the family Pit Bull, with a slightly plump pigeon in his mouth, trotting around the yard. And Little Brother, chasing him, holding the BB-gun, and unsuccessfully trying to remove the fluttering pigeon from Pickles' mouth. But every time Pickles drops the pigeon, it tries to fly away with its broken wing, and Little Brother tries to shoot it again to kill it, but Pickles thinks it's a game and continues to retrieve the bird, and play keep away. This carries on until my shrieking best friend runs outside, scoops the dog up, runs inside and screams at me, "OPEN THE GARAGE", (orders which I completely obey), and we throw Pickles in, amongst broken bicycles and storage crates. Then, we arrive at the kitchen window again, just in time, to see Little Brother, shoot and kill the bird, stoically remove his striped cardigan, and then wipe down his BB-gun, and converse with a moistened paper towel. Then we made shrimp dumplings.

And later, I ran over a garden gnome.

Two Nights Ago.

1. Crashed a picnic birthday party in the park. (There wasn't a piñata so it wasn't legit.)
2. Played beautiful music from a park bench in the dark.
3. Attempted to paint The Dry Creek Moose, unfortunately, I had removed the spray paint I bought 7 months ago from my car. However, I did find a Día de los Muertos sticker book wrapped in Christmas wrapping paper. So we drove around town defacing street signs, and then eventually stickered the moose. Didn't really have the adhesive quality I'd hoped but, you know. You can't have everything.
3. Climbed onto a roof. Stared at stars until the wee hours. Then had to escape from people with flashlights (torches), by running through sprinklers. They were probably Napan Security Guards with nothing better to do.

It was great.