Whining and Dining
Friday was our school's Harvest Ball, which is basically like prom for college. I used whatever dress that got sent to me by my mother in the most recent shipment and realized my incomplete shoe collection left me with flip-flops as the best matching footwear. I somehow managed to get dressed for the event while strange men painted our apartment. (Our landlady finally caved and decided to de-ghetto the interior of our place). TJ got home, got dressed, then we headed out for the event.
Now the Ball was held at the Fairmont Copley Plaza which is in downtown Boston. This means you don't even think of driving unless you're suicidal or can afford the $20 minimum parking. TJ and Cat = taking public transportation. The glitch about this scenario is that it was raining and getting pretty chilly, with a 40 mph wind advisory on its way. On the 1/2 mile walk to the bus stop, I was forced to lift the back of my dress to mid-thigh level in order to avoid flip-flopping water and whatever other crap might be stuck to my sandal onto my dress. So here we are, dressed up and waiting for the bus in the cold rain, while I'm praying to God that the back of my legs don't look like a windshield that just drove through a bug storm. The bus itself was so humid that the windows were open, which created a slight problem when the rain decided to turn from drip to fire hose. We then had to transfer to the train which was packed like a can of sardines. Fortunately, that only lasted 2 stops which finally brought us to our destination.
If you click on the above link to the hotel, you'll see how amazing it looks inside. 600 tickets were sold out for this Ball and at $15 a pop, they definitely put the money to good use. We were first herded into a small room where white-gloved servers brought around appetizers of shrimp cocktail and other small goodies I couldn't tell you the name of. About 45 minutes later, we were allowed into the grand ballroom, and boy was it grand. We found a table with a few of my classmates and sat and enjoyed a fun game of "Oh my God, look at what she's wearing." We stopped playing when we discovered one of the fashion victims as one of our classmates. A lot of people were wearing dresses that seemed like the "how-to-wash" tag had more fabric than the dress itself. We quickly realized that this wasn't going to be the classy, pre-professional student gala we had expected. We lost count of the underage drunkards, and had already decided we weren't going to stay for the dancing.
The dinner itself made up for the price. Our first course was a wonderful lobster bisque, followed by a mediocre salad, which was then replaced by pear sorbet. I've heard of the first and third courses, but had never tried them previous to this. I had signed up TJ and I for the beef dinner, which turned out to be parmesan crusted filet mingon and then the fifth course finished off the best meal I've ever had with a pyramid-shaped chocolate cake sitting on top of a wafer, then the whole thing was covered in a soft chocolate shell. This has created an utter disappointment in every other food (short of a replica of this dinner) I will ever consume.
Our predictions were confirmed when the Sean Paul's Temperature started blasting through the speakers that this would be a hump-fest of the underaged drunkards. It seriously wouldn't surprise me if someone ended up pregnant just from dancing that night. Anyone who has ever been to 'Scoes in Decorah has witnessed what kind of grinding I'm referring to. We sat and watched for about half the song in a train-wreck, "can't look away" kind of gaze and decided to call it a night. Each guest was to take home a glass with "Harvest Ball 2006" etched into the side. Every other person had either a martini glass or a pilsner (I think that's the tall one) beer glass set in front of them. We grabbed two of each type, adding to our collection from the now vacant table next to ours (hey, they were in the middle of an upscale ballroom dry-humping to ghetto rap, we're not the rude ones here) and high-tailed it outta there.
So all in all, it was a bittersweet evening. We'll probably go to the spring one for the sheer entertainment of it all, and the food and free cups don't hurt either.
Now the Ball was held at the Fairmont Copley Plaza which is in downtown Boston. This means you don't even think of driving unless you're suicidal or can afford the $20 minimum parking. TJ and Cat = taking public transportation. The glitch about this scenario is that it was raining and getting pretty chilly, with a 40 mph wind advisory on its way. On the 1/2 mile walk to the bus stop, I was forced to lift the back of my dress to mid-thigh level in order to avoid flip-flopping water and whatever other crap might be stuck to my sandal onto my dress. So here we are, dressed up and waiting for the bus in the cold rain, while I'm praying to God that the back of my legs don't look like a windshield that just drove through a bug storm. The bus itself was so humid that the windows were open, which created a slight problem when the rain decided to turn from drip to fire hose. We then had to transfer to the train which was packed like a can of sardines. Fortunately, that only lasted 2 stops which finally brought us to our destination.
If you click on the above link to the hotel, you'll see how amazing it looks inside. 600 tickets were sold out for this Ball and at $15 a pop, they definitely put the money to good use. We were first herded into a small room where white-gloved servers brought around appetizers of shrimp cocktail and other small goodies I couldn't tell you the name of. About 45 minutes later, we were allowed into the grand ballroom, and boy was it grand. We found a table with a few of my classmates and sat and enjoyed a fun game of "Oh my God, look at what she's wearing." We stopped playing when we discovered one of the fashion victims as one of our classmates. A lot of people were wearing dresses that seemed like the "how-to-wash" tag had more fabric than the dress itself. We quickly realized that this wasn't going to be the classy, pre-professional student gala we had expected. We lost count of the underage drunkards, and had already decided we weren't going to stay for the dancing.
The dinner itself made up for the price. Our first course was a wonderful lobster bisque, followed by a mediocre salad, which was then replaced by pear sorbet. I've heard of the first and third courses, but had never tried them previous to this. I had signed up TJ and I for the beef dinner, which turned out to be parmesan crusted filet mingon and then the fifth course finished off the best meal I've ever had with a pyramid-shaped chocolate cake sitting on top of a wafer, then the whole thing was covered in a soft chocolate shell. This has created an utter disappointment in every other food (short of a replica of this dinner) I will ever consume.
Our predictions were confirmed when the Sean Paul's Temperature started blasting through the speakers that this would be a hump-fest of the underaged drunkards. It seriously wouldn't surprise me if someone ended up pregnant just from dancing that night. Anyone who has ever been to 'Scoes in Decorah has witnessed what kind of grinding I'm referring to. We sat and watched for about half the song in a train-wreck, "can't look away" kind of gaze and decided to call it a night. Each guest was to take home a glass with "Harvest Ball 2006" etched into the side. Every other person had either a martini glass or a pilsner (I think that's the tall one) beer glass set in front of them. We grabbed two of each type, adding to our collection from the now vacant table next to ours (hey, they were in the middle of an upscale ballroom dry-humping to ghetto rap, we're not the rude ones here) and high-tailed it outta there.
So all in all, it was a bittersweet evening. We'll probably go to the spring one for the sheer entertainment of it all, and the food and free cups don't hurt either.
posted by kitty Cat | 8:47 PM
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