Tips on Throwing a Successful Bachelorette Weekend in Atlantic City

1. Do not take Jet Blue to New York City. There is a 100% chance your flight will be delayed.

2. On the Greyhound bus to Atlantic City with your friends, do not make eye contact with the older lady in black basketball shorts. She may eat tuna out of a can with her hands and get dangerously close to touching you with them. She may spill soda near or on you. She may come back to the seat you are sharing with her with a long trail of toilet paper in her shorts.

3. Do not underestimate the utter importance of and satisfaction provided by an ocean view from a 12th floor hotel room. Or a swiveling television set.

4. While your bachelorette friend is showering, decorate the room with streamers and caution tape that you smuggled on the bus without her noticing. Be sure not to make too much noise or she may suspect that you're up to something.

5. Drink Jameson and ginger ale out of penis straws while listening to Bachelorette playlists.

6. Wear your bridesmaid and bride-to-be tiaras all weekend, including at the beach. Be prepared for half the people who see you to wish your bachelorette a happy birthday.

7. If you plan on seeing a strip show at Hunkomania, be prepared for some crazy shit. Shit that will make you cringe and confused. Shit that may even offend you. The Flying Wallenda move is pretty impressive though.

8. Plan to go dancing at the Casbah, but make your friend do her bachelorette party scavenger hunt there. If she tells people she's about to get married, they will eagerly do everything from fake walk her down the aisle, to handing over their condoms, to escorting her into the men's room.

9. Eat brunch at My Friends Diner, just because the name is so cute.

10. Be sure to take a walk on the boardwalk and take a couple rides at the carnival. The beach stroll from the pier to Caesars is also lovely. Drinks at Continental are highly recommended, followed by hotdogs at Nathan's and salt water taffy and fudge at Fralinger's.

11. Don't forget to surprise the bachelorette with a rousing game of Pin the Macho on the Man, preferably while drinking champagne and vodka. (Note: do not spin after each sip.)

12. The Believe drag show at Resorts is amazing. Liza and Patti LaBelle are the standouts.

13. Enjoy a three-hour-long late dinner at Buddakan.

14. Don't forget to wear your tiaras on the bus ride home.

15. End the weekend at a gay-friendly establishment like Vynl in New York City, where the waiters will announce that you're "getting married in the mornin'" and may even give you free shots at lunch.

Overheard at Work, vol. XV

Dude. Sorry.

I was really busy, getting through several weekends of intense work events.

And I'm writing TODAY because I'm going to Atlantic City with mah girlz this weekend for the first bachelorette party I have ever been to.

Yes, let the insanity ensue.

12-year-old asking for peppermints from me: One more?
Me: NO!
12-year-old, noting the packaging: Why? It's only 99 cents!

Me, providing clues as to what character I was playing, during a Hot Seat activity: I live on a street with lots of other characters just like me!
Kids: HOBO!
Me: I have two names!
Kid: Poopy Boy!

As we put up paintings in the gallery, we were instructed by one of my supervisors to put two T pins at the bottom of each piece, to avoid curling.
Colleague A: Two in the bottom?
Me: That sounds crowded!
Supervisor: Are you sure you don't need a hammer?
Colleague A: Two in the bottom!
Supervisor: I just didn't know you could use your thumbs that way!
Colleague A: Using my thumbs to get two in the bottom!

8-year-old: Are you a teenager, Annie?
Me: No! I'm much older than that!
8-year-old: You look like a teenager.
Me: Thanks!
8-year-old: You have pimples.

Talking to a kid about how he needs to manage his own money because his mother doesn't use the money he makes to pay his bills on time.
Me: Put it under your mattress.
Kid: I'm not a drug dealer. Or an old Jewish lady.

Overheard at Work, vol. XIV

Sometimes, my job requires me to wake up before 8 AM on a Saturday, put on fancy clothes, and take a band of kids to perform at a recital hall at the Berklee College of Music, where the bassist from Aerosmith is in the audience and gives the band a standing ovation.

NBD.

"I've got a brain for smartness."--an 8-year-old with a shit-eating grin.

Colleague A, while we were putting things away in storage that was once a women's locker room: What is THAT? (pointing to the feminine products dispenser, on the side with the female symbol)
Me: A PAD!
Colleague A: OH! I thought it was like a Prince album or something!

Colleagues B and C are discussing books they like.
Colleague B: You like sci-fi?
Colleague C: I'm a HUGE fantasy dork!
Colleague B: Sea Dork? What's that?

While the band discussed that they should have all grown beards for the performance and that none of them COULD actually grow beards, the 17-year-old guitarist said, proudly, "I could grow a really thick fuzz!"

Overheard at Work, vol. XIII

Um.

Hi.

So, it's really odd to be going through a similar experience at the end of this school year as I did every year I actually was IN school, but the next seven weeks are going to be very intense, and I keep thinking, "Oh, after May 21, when the music showcase and the big work fundraiser are over, I'll feel so relaxed," but I neglect to remember that I will then be committed to working every Saturday in June for RM AND apartment-hunting with all the spare time I have on the weekends.

HA!

I am so tired.

But I did just see my name on the walls of the Museum of Fine Arts, so maybe I shouldn't complain too much.

"Crystal Oceanista."--the name of a kid's stuffed seal. "She's a fashionista."

Me to a work study student on his last day: I know you'll miss ME! You'll miss the shot of estrogen I bring to this room.
17-year-old: Isn't estrogen illegal?
Kid: Estrogen is the female hormone.
17-year-old: Oh!
Kid: THIS is a high school senior.

Peer leader, referring to the rather inappropriate abbreviation "DTF": In hip-hop, it would be wrong. But in life, it would be right.

Me, to a very tall and lanky 14-year-old who had just knocked over some chairs in the art room: You are SUCH a clumsy kid!
Kid (with true exasperation): I'm just SO BIG!

Holy F, See You in June

This week at work was insane. I can't even really tell you how, except that I went from grantor site visits to partnership meetings to covering core areas to finding out I'd have to cover field trips in two days that felt like ten.

We are gearing up for our annual event, and I am still working Saturdays.

All to say that I'll pretty much be zooming through the next eight weeks until the end of June, when I'll stop working my Saturday job, have gotten through the event, and will be able to breathe with a 9:30 to 5:30 schedule over the summer.

Not to mention that my roommates and I are trying to find an apartment for August.

I covered a field trip today that was actually kind of fun and easy, and I have some quotes at work from the week, but my favorite came today, courtesy of a very unique 17-year-old boy.

Kid: I am so excited to have bunk beds next year!
Me: You are EXCITED to have BUNK BEDS?
Kid: Yes, there will be so much room for activities!
Me: ...What KIND of ACTIVITIES?
Kid: [without missing a beat] Like karate! And board games!

I died.

Overheard at Work, vol. XII

I decided, while watching the 100th episode of 30 Rock this week, that my job is kind of like an episode of the show: so many hilarious and absurd things happen in such a short amount of time that, by the end of the day, it's really hard to distinguish any of them...

"Excuse me! Can I get a guitar in my size?"--a 10-year-old girl beginning a week of diva-like demands. No, we do not have small guitars just for you.

"You're a Celebrity Incarceration Expert!"--a teen, after I got all 24 questions right in the "Celebrity Mugshot" on sporcle.com. (You're welcome.)

"You made Skittles juice."--a 12-year-old, after looking through my phone photos. Yes, kid, that is exactly what that is.

Kid A: Which church do you go to? What kind of music did they play? Do you know this song? [Plays a blues riff on the keyboard]
Kid B: No, it was more like Kumbaya.

"You have to connect to your vagina."--a co-worker's friend diagnosing how we could all dance like another co-worker's friend, who seemed to disconnect her hips from her body, but in an amazing way. This is the best dance advice I've ever gotten.

Bi-Monthly Update?

Sorry for the radio...er...blog silence.

Here is what's been going on the last two weeks:

1. Day of previous post being just the beginning of the shittiest week I've had at work yet.

2. Boston spring taking its sweet time to get here. Today, it is 43 degrees out.

3. Me coming down with a bad cold that is STILL lingering.

4. My cousin having a baby boy on the same day that my mother celebrated her 60th birthday.

5. This past week at work being taken over by the annual singing competition we have with the kids, which went off yesterday with only a few catastrophes mid-show:

a. 12-year-old dropped out at the last minute, despite my best youth development convincing that she deserved to compete and would do great.

b. Grandmother of 10-year-old girl (whom we had cut in the 2nd round) sneak attacked me mid-show to complain that her granddaughter was a good singer and we only had 8 competitors anyway--could she perform?

c. Friends of 12-year-old girl in section A bumrushed the stage while I was making announcements, declaring that she was ready to sing now but only if she could sing with all of them. No.

6. Having a fancy dinner with an old friend while he was here on business and reminiscing about how things have changed and stayed the same.

7. An epic evening making Skittles vodka with the roommates, which we will be consuming tonight.

(Update: It is so tasty and strong. And looks really pretty in a glass mixed with 7-Up.)

I've barely had time at my desk to write quotes down, even though I'm amused by my kids and coworkers every day.

Also, there's a long, rambling, witty nostalgic post brewing in me and I just need to figure out time and space to write it.

Thanks for your patience!