GINN AND TONIC

I've been under a TON of stress this past month- I'm temporarily relocating, exploring new job options and dealing with some personal (read: GUY) issues that all my friends already know about so I won't get into them here. So of course I took the high road and chose to deal with all my problems in an incredibly mature fashion by running away from them and getting astonishingly loaded.

I mentally ran through all the awesome cities I hadn't been to in a while where I actually knew people and came up with Boston. Not only is there an amazing live music scene, but the sports fans are rabid and the drinks are cheap. On top of that, it's also the hometown of one awesome Ginntastic, my partner in blogging crime and a friend who I hadn't seen in over a year. I was sold, and so was she. Vacation time!

The bus ride lasted so long that I was convinced the dude was taking us to Mexico, but eventually rush hour subsided and I arrived at the South Station. I lugged my gargantuan suitcase to Ginntastic's office where we basically pissed around until it was time for her to clock out. On the walk to the T I'm pretty sure I embarrassed her by taking a shitload of pictures, but it's not often that I get to be a tourist and we did pass a lot of cool stuff.

Boston Public Library- the very first photo I took in Beantown

That night Ginntastic took me out to dinner at the Joshua Tree, a funky dive which immediately met my approval because it was named after my favorite album from any band of all time. There was a collective depression in the air because the Celtics had lost to the Lakers the night before, but the food was still orgasmically delicious. Just for the record, this is the dessert we ordered:



Ginntastic promised we'd share but all she ate was the whipped cream and like, two bites. Liar. I finished the whole thing. I hate myself.

That night we met up with a few of her friends (who all turned out to be super-phenomenal), where we started out the night with these watermelon shots...

I blame them

...and ended it on a stripper pole because we were all remarkably drunk.

Behold.

Oh, Ginntastic.

On Saturday Ginntastic played tour guide and took me around to all the sports stadiums. We were pretty hungover but I managed to get a few pics of the TD Garden, where the Celtics and Bruins play.



After the TD, we had lunch at Pizzeria Regina. The line was out the door, but the pizza was totally worth it, especially because the sign was shaped like a penis. Ginntastic told me that they did that just for me. I'd like to believe her, but somehow that just didn't sound right.

Tell me this doesn't give you dirty thoughts.

Next up was Fenway Park, where I made a total ass of myself with the camera. I swear I took a picture every three seconds and I definitely humiliated Ginntastic, who was really nice about it even though I'm sure she wanted to kill me. I was a total loser, but I got a ton of great shots of the stadium and of the House of Blues, which is inside the park. Then I made her go into the souvenir store. I'm sorry, Ginntastic. Please still be friends with me.

This is the entrance to Fenway, in case you're retarded and didn't get it.

This is around the time that I started completely geeking out.

Ted Williams statue- I called my dad and even he was embarrassed for me.

BTW, they're not kidding about that whole "Red Sox Nation" deal. EVERYONE in the Boston area was wearing something with the team logo on it. I mean EVERYONE. I saw maybe five people without it all weekend. The Sox were playing the Dodgers, too, which meant everybody was spazzing out over Manny being back in town. I, on the other hand, was spazzing out over music and baseball being together in the same venue.

Porn.

Anyway, she forgave me long enough to take me out with her friends that night to some bars on the Boston scene. We all wound up at a local sports bar where I wound up being molested by some dude who later found me on Facebook (how about NOT?). Later, Ginntastic and I realized that our hand stamps were smudged together and the only possible explanation that we could come up with was that we must have had some unconscious sexy times. We were, after all, sharing a bed.

Anyway, after consuming a copious amount of alcoholic beverages, Ginntastic and I headed back to her place after brushing off the guys that had been following us around like sad puppies all night. One of them even tried for a three-way when a two-way wasn't even in the works, and that made us laugh. We climbed into bed at 4am with her adorable kitten, Bosco, who was the only male we had allowed to come between us all weekend.

Bosco saw both of us in various stages of undress. That manwhore.

My weekend ended with a breakfast of cold pizza and a spectacularly horrendous Lifetime movie with a ninja stripper or something. When Ginntastic finally dropped me off at the bus, I was sad to go, but knew that the 2010 Boston Massacre was definitely going to be a semiannual jaunt.

Here's to you, Ginntastic. Thanks for getting me seriously wasted and making me forget that I had any problems at all. Thanks for laughing at idiot frat boys with me and giving me a bed to sleep in instead of pawning me off at the Watertown Super 8. Also, thanks for still admitting that you knew me when I nerded out about sports and forgot that I have girl parts.

See you soon! We're definitely hitting up the stripper pole again.

PS- you can read Ginntastic's account of our weekend if you click on her link above, and if you're friends with me on Facebook, you can see all the photographic details in all their blackmail-worthy glory.