Shipping Up To Boston

We made it up to Boston this past weekend, a success especially considering that the last time we tried that we ended up with The Weekend of Fail.

I’m interrupting this post to say: I know he’s an Iron Chef and all, but nothing that Bobby Flay makes looks good to me.

Anyway, Thursday night we were here:

and it was an absolute blast. Aside from the fact that Fenway is the fucking shit, I think the amazingly good time had something to do with the fact that we were with these kick ass people:

Oh yeah, and this guy may have had something to do with that as well.

You think?

Friday we went to see his grandfather and after lunch I managed to get lost when I went to get the car while they waited out front for me. In my defense, the streets of Marblehead were formed by cows and, dude, they are NOT on a grid. I was on a one way street and two blocks up from the restaurant and you’d think that making three lefts would get me back there but, sadly, no, that did not work. I finally made it back and we all laughed at my expense and, whatever. It was vacation and warm enough for them to be outside until I got back.

Friday night we partied with the Herd and can you believe that we didn’t take a single picture of that evening? I can’t either. I assure you that I was a great time.

Saturday morning was a bit of a cluster fuck and it’s not worth the story about why, but let’s just say that I was supposed to meet my mother for breakfast, making it the first time I’ve seen her in six years and she couldn’t make it but, oh, don’t you worry, she made up for it later. It was a weird day.

Lunch at my aunt’s was great even though we didn’t get to girl chat like we normally would have and Saturday evening I was asleep on the couch by 9:00. I’m wild like that.

We left Sunday morning without any trouble and had the dogs licking our faces by 4. I threw some chicken in the crockpot so we’d have something to eat this week because the fridge is bare after a weekend sans trip to the grocery store.

I temped one pathetic day this week and have a few hours for Thurs but that’s it. The lack of paycheck is getting old. Very, very old. And I’ve finally sold the last of anything valuable that I had – pulled it out of the safe and off it went. At least I’ll be able to pay my rent for another three months with the money.

Ok, I know you want to see one more:

The Weekend Of Pure Awesome

This weekend, people. This weekend was the weekend of pure awesome. All awesome, all the time.

Well, maybe not awesome Friday night when I was throwing up in my new boyfriend’s bathroom exclaiming “I’m dying!!” but three things about that: 1. He wasn’t technically my boyfriend at the time. Not for another 10 hours or so, 2. I don’t actually remember exclaiming “I’m dying” but…yeah, that sounds like me, and 3. It didn’t actually effect the rest of the weekend. Weee!

So Friday night I may have accidentally consumed beer, and then wine, and then switched back to beer. I also hadn’t eaten all that much because of the whole “trying to be hot and sexy” thing. And then possibly I got unintentionally drunk and, hence, the vomiting mentioned above. But that’s enough of that.

Saturday I finally became a tourist in DC. Despite the fact that I’ve lived in northern Virginia for almost three years now, I’d never actually seen any of the monuments or memorials or museums. The day started at the Washington Monument, then the World War II Memorial. We passed by the White House (I saw the White House! Finally! Front and back!) had lunch at Capitol City Brewing Company, realized that there’s a lot of fossilized feces on display at the Museum of Natural History and also that I had a blister forming on my foot. And also, I think fossils are really fucking cool.

Oh year, and I also managed to officially find myself in a relationship. A real relationship. With, like, a boyfriend and stuff. An awesome boyfriend. A really, bitchin’ boyfriend. I told him that I think he’s the bees’ knees. Pure awesome. PURE AWESOME.

So my new boyfriend, aka “HP”, was my tour guide and a couple of my favorite moments of the weekend won’t make any sense, but I have to document them somewhere and this seems as good a place as any:

-Taking pictures of the bank
-“What, Babe? What did Easton say?”
-Going to the gym this morning
-On the metro: “mmmm hmmmmmm”

I can’t remember the last time I laughed as hard as I laughed this weekend. I can’t remember the last time I had as much fun hanging around the house on a Saturday night. And I can’t remember the last time I felt so unbelievably happy.

I spent the entire weekend turning to HP and saying “Babe, life is good.”

And he agreed.

Day 130 Nice Thing: This might be the best summer ever!