There's no Ass in Glasbrenner... or Boulos!

Hello all!

I know that I have been quite negliegent in my posting, however I am here now, and I have a story that I haven't even yet shared with the wife, so that you could all be amused together... so here goes.

As some of you know, Vince was visiting from Reno recently, and had arranged a get together for some of us on the east side. Despite the chilly weather, I was lucky enough to get a cab immediately following my arrival into the city from good ole' dirrrty Jerz. I hop in, kind of flustered, and immediately start digging in my purse, completely oblivious to my immediate surroundings to try and find my cell to alert V that I might be a bit late. Half way through the ride across town, when I get more settled, I look up, and what name do I see staring at me but "BOULAS"!!!!!!! WHAT?? I want to scream and laugh, however as expected, the cabbie is in deep conversation with someone on his phone, and far be it for me to interrupt him. When he asks for a confirmation of my destination, I grab my chance...

Me: "Is your last name Boulas????"
Understandably suspicious cabbie...: "Yes..."
Me: "OMG! My last name is BOULOS, with an "O"!!!!!!!"
Cabbie: "REALLY???"
Me: "YES! Are you Egyptian???"
Cabbie: "Yes... blah blah blah, do you know where the name originates?"
Me: "My Dad used to tell me it was a derivative of Paul, and that it's Koptic."
Cabbie: "No, it actually comes from... (at this point the man suddenly forgets how to annunciate or traffic was loud, but I have no idea what the f he said).

We then proceed to talk about Egypt, and I tell him I've never been, etc. I was so blown away by this man's name, I could not even deal with it. I don't even know what his first name is, b/c his last one distracted me so! Upon arrival at the bar, my Teammate ventured a guess...Kallie. hahaha, my alter ego is a male cabbie. Um, it wasn't that, for sure. Holy shite though for the rest of the evening, everything bad was referred to as Boul-ASS, and we decided it was a good insult.

Please await pics from the wife's NYC baby vomit invasion, and me and Andy's Chicago escapade to be posted sometime in the next year.

Lates! ~Boulos

Psychic Trouble

I clearly have issues.

This all began maybe 5 or 6 years ago, the first time I visited a psychic. Rachel, Emily and I were walking back from Magnolia Bakery when we passed a somewhat bare psychic storefront (someone PLEASE tell me how this weird psychic lady could afford that space in the west village). I think only Emily and I got our palms read, and I remember thinking this lady was right on through Emily’s reading, and then through mine… and then she told me that I needed my chakras cleansed.

I have dirty chakras! Haha, it was a funny joke. But I was a little bit worried.

Then, this weekend, I was coming home at 5 am with Meghan and our cab driver offered to read our palms. This seemed like an awesome idea, so we went for it. But during my reading, the guy could NOT stop repeating, “oh, you are very confused. You are troubled.” Every time he began to tell me something else, he’d interrupt himself with, “No, but you are very confused.”

At the time, feeling a bit emo in my drunken state, I thought to myself, “Hey, I am very confused and troubled. This dude is right on; way to go psychic cabbie!” So I kept nodding along, hoping he would find the cure to my confusion in some other line. Which, of course, did not happen. He basically gave me a warning: YOU ARE TROUBLED.

Now I’m thinking, what the fuck? Do I have some bad psychic energy? What is going on here? WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME????????????

But the good news is, I just studied my palms – on one hand, a bunch of the lines don’t meet, which was his clue that I am utterly and irrevocably fucked up. However, on my left hand, all the lines meet quite neatly. So, my left side is A-Okay!

p.s. Sorry for the massive holiday break; I am lazy.