40 Days and 40 Nights

I decided to take the plunge and give up something for Lent. No, I'm not Catholic, but the concept of giving something up for a period of time seems reasonable, and relatively healthy. These past 7 months have been all about excess in almost every way possible; from sex, shopping, and drinking, etc., so I figured if I am going to give up something, now is the time to do it. But, what to choose?

I don't think that I can pull a Josh Hartnett in 40 Days and 40 Nights and not have sex. It's already been a week without sex and I am in struggle city. While I think flicking the bean on a pretty routine basis is practically maintenance, doing that for an extended period of time without the option of sex just sounds absolutely miserable. I can only close my eyes and come up with so many scenarios.. if you catch my drift. I'm pretty sure after 40 plus days I would not be someone pleasant to be around. And then, what would happen after those six weeks? I would be an animal; like one of those little dogs that literally humps everything that moves. Not a good look babes, not a good look.

Then I consider my Starbucks addiction. I think I have consumed so many chai lattes that it is practically a part of me. My blood type is probably AB- plus a three pump, non-fat, extra hot, venti chai. I should probably mention that when I sign up as an organ donor...I digress. If I do the math and I give up my crack, I mean chai latte, habit, I could save $142.80 at the end of all of this!! BOOM, that's a bar tab. Psh, let's be real, I don't pay bar tabs. But you get what I mean. I'm just trying to think about the person I would be without my daily pick me up. I still want to be a reasonable person to be around. And not having Starbucks for 40 days would be like PMSing for six weeks straight. No one wants to be around that bitch.

I've also been considering unplugging for a while. You know, texting less and taking a break from social media. The past few days I have been without a cell phone, which has been massively liberating. I never thought I would be thankful for Verizon's awful customer service, but having to communicate via email and personal interaction has been relatively refreshing, and believe it or not, it has been doing wonders for my dating life. I swear, being technologically unavailable makes you 10x more desirable to men. If guys are genuinely interested, they won't mind a challenge. It's definitely brought a few knights in shining armor out of the woodwork.

Lastly, I could embrace the fact that I want my body to look like that of a Victoria's Secret model and give up sweets, or carbs, or alcohol. Scratch that, giving up alcohol is a horrible idea; a girl needs her gin and tonics. But seriously, what girl doesn't use Lent as an excuse to "cleanse"? Imagine, you're at a restaurant, and you're friends are trying to get you to eat the bread out of the bread basket, or the dessert that has a bagazillion calories, or god forbid, fat girl sushi... Oh sorry, I'm giving up any food makes my ass bigger for lent. They can't argue with that! Hello, this isn't just a superficial and shallow decision not to eat, it's religious, so don't cross me.

It looks like I have found my winner. Any foods that can be labeled as mASSive are officially off limits for 40 days... in moderation. What? A babe has gotta have her Ducali fix every once and a while.

'Til next time,

A Babe In Boston

Best Out Of Three

In a seven day period I will have had three first dates. It's an interesting phenomenon, considering I've been out of the "dating game" for a while. (Hooking up doesn't constitute as dating, in my opinion, and we all know I've done plenty of that.) My friends have been pulling guys out of the woodwork, who are "interested" in me, based on a few pictures, stats, and probably a couple of anecdotes. In some ways, I'm flattered. But in other ways, I think, why are my friends pushing all of these dates on me? Do I have a placard on my forehead saying "set me up!"? Do they think I'm taking the single thing too far? And if they do... would they be wrong? Don't answer that. You know what, though, at the end of the day, I'm not complaining! So here's where we're at so far:

Date 1:
The guy is an entrepreneurial lacrosse player who works with non-profits, and has a killer smile paired with a head of hair that Fabio would be jealous of. We connected over our love of mac 'n' cheese and Basil Hayden's at Lincoln in South Boston. I think we broke every first date rule I have ever been told. Don't drink too much, don't talk about past relationships, don't talk about sex, etc. Oh well! I don't think he minded either. Halfway through me telling a story when we were sitting at the bar, he leaned over and kissed me. Do I need to tell you how long it has been since a guy made the first move? I blame the fact that I'm pretty aggressive, but STILL, it was so refreshing. The only problem: he's my height. Yes, I'm tall. Yes, it's superficial. But with three guys on my plate, I'm allowed to nit pick, right? Regardless, he's still fun to be around, a good kisser, and has great taste in women (see what I did there?), therefore he is still on my radar.

Date 2:
The flavor of the evening? A tall, dark, and handsome guy with bowling skills only slightly better than mine. The Latin heat in him gave him some suave dance moves and charm for days. We ended up at Kings where we got our bowl on, which made for a pretty fun first date. The surprise of the evening, my high school crush ended up in the lane next to us. There's nothing better than when you see someone who you went to high school that looks a gazilion times worse than when they did 8 years ago. Even better, I look like Erin Heatherton compared to what I was all those years ago, and I was with a hot guy to boot. At some point on the date we ended up slow dancing in our lane and all of that faded away. Then, there was that moment. Yet another first kiss, another set of butterflies, and another successful first date. As Schmidt would say, so nectar.

Date 3:
It has yet to come, but to be honest, this is the one I am most excited for. One of my guy friends set it up, and he's pretty confident we are going to hit it off.

Even though the third date hasn't happened, it's pretty safe to say that I'm going to be stuck in a "Best Out of Three" situation. Yes, I am that confident that it is going to go well. If nothing else, I am the First Date Queen. I'm such a champion when it comes to first dates that Charlie Sheen stole #winning from me. This isn't a bad place to be, but it's hard when you have three great guys. Hopefully, they will help make the decision for me because I don't do so well putting all of my eggs in one basket.

On a different note, try to enjoy the snow day tomorrow, babes. Make a snow angel, throw a snow ball, or get out of dodge early and hit the slopes. I know I'm going to use it as an excuse to make my famous Amaretto hot chocolate and stay in and watch chick flicks all day. And if at some point I manage to trek my way over to Chay's house for a little afternoon delight, I wouldn't be mad about that either.

'Til next time,

A Babe In Boston

Here's to the Freakin' Weekend

This weekend I am getting my drink on. Yo-hoe-lo! We're talking gin and tonics, champagne, champagne, and more champagne, some kamikazes, scotch, and probably some more champagne. There's something so cathartic about going out with your girlfriends and getting hammered. The only problem is, all of the other bitches at the bar. Let's face it, if they were your friends they would be the coolest chicks in there, but the sheer fact that they aren't hanging out with you, makes them the most horrible people in the world. Is she wearing the same shoes as you? Poser. Is she macking on the guy you want to take home? Slore. Is she channeling her inner Lohan and having a little too much fun? Hot mess express. The list goes on.

Bitches be throwing shade all over the damn place! I mean, I'm gettin' it at 8am on the T, 3:30pm at Whole Foods, 6pm while hanging out in child's pose at yoga, and once it hits 11pm you better have your phasers on stun because these girls are ruthless! For the love of Jimmy Choo's, what is this world coming to? Can't a babe just enjoy the mating ritual - that is Boston nightlife - without mixing hatorade in her vodka soda? I don't like being a mean girl anymore than the next, but unfortunately a few sour grapes make it a necessity.

So, here is my plea to you, babes of Boston. Before you go out tonight, sit back, relax, and pop a fucking klonopin... just kidding (sort of). But, for real, pop a figurative chill pill and just focus on yourself tonight. Some of you are probably thinking, how the hell do I do that? Well, that's where I come in - here are a few tips to get you on the right track:

1. Get glammed up. You can't hate on anyone else when you're the hottest chick in the room, right?
2. Be a wingwoman. Besides the fact that your girlfriends will be eternally grateful, you'll feel victorious that you have just hooked her up with one of the few guys who is an 8 or higher at the bar.
3. Add salt and a lime. Tequila is an upper, so use it to your advantage. You dig?

And if all else fails, go out with a bunch of hot, straight dudes. If you don't know why that is a good idea.. we can't be friends.


Cheers to not biting each other's heads off this weeeknd!

'Til next time,

A Babe In Boston