Work it El

Breaking Up With Sunday Funday

Breaking Up With Sunday Funday Jul. 24, 2011 By Stephanie Georgopulos

Stephanie Georgopulos is/was/forever will be from Brooklyn, NY. Read more »

My dearest,

Hi. I know you’re catching on, and reasonably so. I’ve only been saying it all week. I’ve been whispering it to our mutual friends. That I didn’t want to see you, that I’d avoid you at all costs. I know you can tell I’m growing distant, and it’s not fair to you – not with our history. I’m just going to say it. I can’t keep pretending that this is a healthy relationship. In fact, it might be killing me – and I mean that quite literally. My doctor has expressed some concerns. What I’m saying is… I need some space from you. We need to take a break.
Things started out great, you know? You know. I’d wake up from another unspeakably bizarre Saturday night and there you were – awaiting me with open arms. We’d set out into the day together, get brunch – a rossini here, a bellini there… a few mimosas at that cheap place on Grand Street… a bottle of champagne at someone’s house… fried chicken, o’, the fried chicken. Was there anything we couldn’t do together, Sunday Funday? In my heart, I’m sure – we could do it all.

But you went and changed on me. Things got… dark. Remember Sunday Bloody Sunday? Your cheeks are probably full of color, hearing me refer to you like that. I hate calling you that name, but you earned it. You plied me with picklebacks that day. Hours later, I found myself in a school bus buying illegal substances from a man named Fire. I consorted with a man named Fire under your watch. Even that, I could’ve dealt with. But when I came home and ate the assorted Chinese food leftovers that my roommates left out in the living room? The scraps? That’s when you crossed the line.


Not to mention, my mom doesn’t like you. And she likes everyone. I started lying to her when she’d call, pretending that we weren’t together, Sundays used to be her day, you know? She likes to call and shoot the shit on Sundays; it’s a mom thing. But every time I answered the phone, pretending to be at the park reading a book, she knew. She could hear it in my voice. “Steph, are you… but… it’s Sunday! I thought… won’t you outgrow this soon? This is toxic,” she’d say. YOU. YOU ARE TOXIC.



I remember the good times, babe. Don’t think I don’t. I remember the concerts we went to last summer, I remember the lawn chairs and the taco trucks and the Moscow Mules. I remember drunkenly buying books from street vendors, and the time I bought that Beatles album with the typo on the cover? That was so exciting! We ran to the ATM, threw our surcharge cautions to the wind. “Fuck ATM fees, THE BEATLES!” We said. Never mind the fact that I don’t own a record player, right?


That’s your problem. You’re too fun and fancy-free. It’s all shits and giggles until Monday, when I have to get up and go to work and you’re nowhere to be found. Not so ride-or-die come Monday morning, are you? You just leave me to fend for myself, sometimes with an unbearable headache. I know you care about me… at least I think you do, but you kind of only come around once a week, make me spend unseemly amounts of money, and embarrass me in front of my friends. This relationship is not conducive to who I like to pretend to be – a mature adult with morals.

You know I love you. Sometimes, I live my entire week just to see you. My heart pitter-patters when I imagine what you have in store for me. But I can’t do this anymore. You have every right to be upset with me. I want you to know that I never led you on. I was with you because I chose to be, it was what I wanted. Maybe someday we can reevaluate our relationship, work on things. Become a better Us. I’d totally be down for a kind of No Strings Attached scenario as well. Just in the meantime.

We can still like, mess around occasionally, right?


I’ll like you forever; I’ll love you for always,
Steph

Overheard on Nantucket

Post Figawi, 1PM Ferry.  Crying baby, large dog, hungover 20-something.

Hungover 20-something: I hope that dog eats that baby.

Wait, what did you guys Google? FYI that's my work computer...

Seriously Mom? Pt. 2

Lorraine's Mom has a way of cracking me up without even trying to be funny.  Her compassion for cell phone commercial characters truly made me LOL, but on top of that she is totally hip to the beat. The lady gchats! And her gchat correspondence with Lorraine from this afternoon just really made my day:

Susie: YAY BRUINS YAY RED SOX
Lorraine: yayyy great game

Susie: GO LUCIC

Lorraine: didnt watch what was the score

Susie: ALMOST TIME TO GET YOUR BEAUTY SLEEP. 2-1

Lorraine: how do you feel about the hartford whalers

Susie: HOWS YOUR ALLERGIES TODAY

Lorraine: brutal

Susie: MAYBE YOU SHLD CALL THE DR. GET A PRESCRIP

Lorraine: maybe you should hit caps lock so your not typing in all capitals

Susie: snap. i like caps...it doesn't mean i'm yelling

Lorraine: hahaha. why do you like it

Susie: they look nicer. it's powerful

Lorraine: sure

Oh Susie, it does seem like your yelling, but I think caps are powerful too!!

Virginia? Oh, I spent a year there one weekend - part 2 so much anxiety...

As you know I spent a year in Virginia one weekend quite recently for a softball tournament. Honestly, I think it probably took a few years of ye old life here.  I stayed awake for 24 and a quarter hours on the overnight drive from Boston, MA to Charlottesville, VA. @lannonball needed a co-pilot, even if his ears were bleeding after 12 solid hours of popprincess' drivel...

Find exhibit A to your right.  That's me at 7:30 AM about 20 minutes before my blackberry took a swim in a toilet at a McDonald's....in West Virginia (remind me again why I'm single)?

Needless to say, my anxiety levels reached an all-time high on this trip.  No, it wasn't because my phone spent 8 hours in a cup of rice, that our hotel room at the Super 8 smelled like an ashtray, that I couldn't catch a pop-fly to save my life, that I got 12 hours of sleep from Thursday to Sunday, or even because our RV broke down at midnight when we were just two short hours away from home after a 3 day bender.

It was because I survived an effing tornado.

The weather for the Softball tournament was terrible, torrential rain on and off for most of the day.  During our second game, while I was killing at catcher (well, 3/5 times the ump threw the ball back to our pitcher for me, but whatevs) the umpire mentions "you know, tornado warnings today".  

Ecu me kind sir? What was that you said? Tornado?

The Wizard of Oz is my all-time favorite movie but that does not mean I want to reenact the opening scene.  I don't want to yell out for Auntie Em and I certainly don't think we're going to end up in Oz if we see funnel clouds storming toward our playing fields. 

I didn't take the umpire's weather forecast seriously until we heard the loud-ass sirens.  That's when full fledged panic set in.  There was absolutely nowhere to go.  I just kept thinking:

Are 5 bud lights going to be my last meal? Am I really going to go out like that?   

I have never had a panic attack, but after googling the symptoms it seems very likely that this is exactly what was happening to me:

"experiencing a panic attack has been said to be one of the most intensely frightening, upsetting and uncomfortable experiences of a person's life and may take days to initially recover from"

You're damn right wikipedia.com! I was 100% suffering from many of these symptoms:

• Sweating
• Trembling or shaking
• Sensations of shortness of breath or smothering
• Nausea
• Feeling dizzy, unsteady, lightheaded, or faint
• De-realization (feelings of unreality) or depersonalization (being detached from oneself)
• Fear of losing control or going insane
• Sense of impending death
• Chills or hot flashes

While others downed beers and played "Rock You Like a Hurricane" as our natural disaster warning anthem, I continued to grapple with my sense of impending death. 

Truth be told this feeling of panic only lasted about an hour at which point the sun shone through and I fist pumped in celebration.  Regardless of the length of my anxiety attack, it truly gave me a whole new outlook on life.

Moving forward, any anxiety I ever have will be measured at the tornado level in the following order:

Tornado Anxiety
RV breaking Down Anxiety
General Anxiety

So anything between General and RV would probably classify as "damn that sucks!" and anything between RV and Tornado are "OMG that is HORRIBLE!!".  Anything above tornado...F your L because it involves death (or at least a sense of impending death). 

So there you have it.  Presentation to do tomorrow? Not as bad as an RV breakdown.  Job interview? Again not as bad.  Hot date? Nope, definitely not as scary as an effing tornado.

There's your new perspective on life.  Good luck and lookout for those funnel clouds.

xoxo,
Pop

A little too much?

Love this!

Virginia? Oh I spent a year there one weekend - Part 1

Back in early April, following road race with Moose's grad class, a few of the future grads were discussing an upcoming softball tournament.  At 10AM after one sip of beer, I heard the words "road trip" and "RV" in the same sentence and believe you me they had my full and undivided attention.

Being part of the Road Rules cast has probably been one of my dreams since the "Handsome Reward" was a Honda Civic.   

So we're all chatting it up and low and behold a few of the gals had to bow out from the trip last minute.  I'm thinking: Here I am guys!!! Did you not just see me run the 5k? You should toads obvi bring me!


Keep in mind, I haven't seriously played softball since the mid-90's, and I'm not a student at BC - but whatevs.  Very  nonchalantly one of the organizers and Moose said "Oh yah, you should come". 

It is very likely that Moose believed there was an slight chance I would go, and the organizers thought nothing of it.  The following day, I thought I should make my casting video secure my spot on what sounded to me like the most kick-ass trip ever.  Instead, I decided a cover letter would be the best way to really get to the hearts and souls of these ever-so-serious business students.  Below is verbatim, my CL for the trip:

Dear Mr. Boudreau,


I am writing in seeking to fill the position of Honorary BC MBA Groupie at the 19th Annual Darden Softball Invitational. Over the years my athletic career has been filled with vast accomplishments on the playing field. More importantly, my ability to maintain a decorated drinking career that includes countless days and nights of fun while still achieving said accomplishments makes me the perfect candidate for this weekend’s trip (#winning). Assuming that my movie star good looks and sparkling personality aren’t enough to get me a round trip ticket to Road Rules Challenge: MBA Edition, I will elaborate.

In the fall of 2002, I was named 12th player on the Hingham High School Varsity Girls Soccer team. Although I received this award solely because I rode the pine all season as a backup goalie, it displays my teammates’ appreciation for my heart and dedication to our team. In 2003 (*cough cough* as a Team Captain) I led us to the Massachusetts State Tournament, GO HARBORWOMEN! Truth be told, I attribute much of my success in soccer to being grounded every August for from 1999 – 2003 for various partying related incidents.

In college (no parents) my skills became quite refined and I really hit my stride in combining my athletics with my affinity for adult beverages. I joined the cross country team for my first ever “beer mile”. That’s right beer/lap, beer/lap, beer/lap, beer/lap – finish. I only threw up once and believe I finished in less than 20 minutes. A year later, as a Senior I was the Women’s Lacrosse Team Captain and a 2nd Team All Conference player (yah not 1st team, whatevs). Our team went to the Northeast-10 Conference semi-finals. Though we lost the game, we drank spiked Gatorades the entire trip from Easton, Massachusetts to Burlington, Vermont. Thus proving I am resourceful, and seasoned in road tripping with large groups.

Most recently, this past Saturday at the BC 5k, I tested my endurance in both running and boozing. Sure, I got a respectable time for running 3.1 miles, but better than that I was out from the time the bars opened until they closed. That’s right; I drank for 15 hours straight no stopping. Sleep when you’re dead.

Finally, my skills via blogger.com twitter and Facebook will ensure that all of your weekend is fully and completely documented start to finish. Moreover, if you say something funny enough, your quote will receive the highest honor possible: being my Facebook album title.

I believe my background outlined above qualifies me for consideration to attend and participate in the 19th Annual Darden Softball Invitational. I look forward to discussing how my skills can be of value to the BC MBA Graduate Softball Team as it prepares for the road to victory.

Sincerely,

Popprincess

Good news kids - I made it on the trip...much more to come....can you spy with your little eye the only one that won't have an MBA next month? I can I can!!!

Why is Nugget Single?

Q: Why is Nugget Single?

A: Real quotes from nugget:

"I dust my stove once a week"

"The only thing I use kitchen utensils for is to clean out my fish tank".

yeah, I'd say those are pretty good reasons why nuggs.

Thank you, Dusty B. - Best Video

April 9, 2011 - Hiking Tuckerman's Ravine on Mount Washington in New Hampshire along the Chute. A friend and I are standing behind the boulder to avoid oncoming sluff. I was filming for really no reason other than to capture the size of sluff coming down the hill. Then, this guy cuts in between us for, at the time, I thought no reason. That was not the case...
Two seconds later, a helpless girl comes flying face first down the mountain at a barreling speed (40-45 MPH) on a 55 degree slope. Roughly 150 pounds of woman, clothing and ski gear rifles down the hill and continues to take out on an unsuspecting hiker.

Not the best thing to see on your first ascent on Tuckerman's but I did strike gold because I didn't realize i had caught her on film til we got back to the base...