Friday- Met up for drinks at my most hated bar in Boston, Harvard Gardens. I’ve hated that place and refused to go there ever since they wouldn’t serve me a few years ago just because I was wearing a blinking visor, tank top, flip flops, and shorts. Hey, it was 4th of July and about 105ºC out. And I’m a sucker for the glow necklaces and blinking accessories that are generally available for purchase during celebrations of our nation’s independence. So shiny and bright! Harvard Gardens snubbed my patriotism and I’m still angry. Grrrrrrr. Anyways, I was tricked into going there, proving that not only am I gullible, but also that I have no integrity.
Saturday- After spending the good part of the morning freeing my car from a sheet of ice (it required three persons, a burlap sack, and a file folder to get it out), I drove down to Newport and to meet a psychic at Applebee’s. No, I am not kidding. I’ve always wanted to go to a psychic, for pure curiosity’s sake, and one was recommended to me by a friend in Newport. Perfect excuse for a day trip. The psychic’s name was Darlene, she’s Cape Verdean, and she communicates with angels, who apparently suggested Applebee’s. The other two friends I went with (with whom I went….oh, proper grammar is so laborious sometimes) enjoyed it a lot more, and definitely had a few “how did she know that?!?” moments of amazement. Mine, however, was a bust. The couple of times she tried to guess things about me, she was way off. Like “You work in an office.” “No, I work in a laboratory.” “Well, to me, it looks like an office.” Her predictions were on the vague side. Changes are coming, you will be happy, etc…So, my curiosity has been satisfied, but I don’t think it’s something I’ll ever spend my money on again. Maybe I’m just disappointed that she didn’t predict that I was destined for greatness.
After the psychic readings, we tooled around the city a bit, and although it was cold, it was a beautiful, sunny day. I love going to the beach in the winter. New England winters are much more tolerable than those I spent in the Midwest; they aren't any warmer, but at least the sun comes out every once in a while. I hated the months of gray, bleak skies in Indiana.
I played soccer Saturday night and I'm still sore today from getting slammed into the boards. I can't complain, because I do it to people ALL THE TIME. Slamming people into the boards is the best part about playing indoor soccer.
Saturday- After spending the good part of the morning freeing my car from a sheet of ice (it required three persons, a burlap sack, and a file folder to get it out), I drove down to Newport and to meet a psychic at Applebee’s. No, I am not kidding. I’ve always wanted to go to a psychic, for pure curiosity’s sake, and one was recommended to me by a friend in Newport. Perfect excuse for a day trip. The psychic’s name was Darlene, she’s Cape Verdean, and she communicates with angels, who apparently suggested Applebee’s. The other two friends I went with (with whom I went….oh, proper grammar is so laborious sometimes) enjoyed it a lot more, and definitely had a few “how did she know that?!?” moments of amazement. Mine, however, was a bust. The couple of times she tried to guess things about me, she was way off. Like “You work in an office.” “No, I work in a laboratory.” “Well, to me, it looks like an office.” Her predictions were on the vague side. Changes are coming, you will be happy, etc…So, my curiosity has been satisfied, but I don’t think it’s something I’ll ever spend my money on again. Maybe I’m just disappointed that she didn’t predict that I was destined for greatness.After the psychic readings, we tooled around the city a bit, and although it was cold, it was a beautiful, sunny day. I love going to the beach in the winter. New England winters are much more tolerable than those I spent in the Midwest; they aren't any warmer, but at least the sun comes out every once in a while. I hated the months of gray, bleak skies in Indiana.
I played soccer Saturday night and I'm still sore today from getting slammed into the boards. I can't complain, because I do it to people ALL THE TIME. Slamming people into the boards is the best part about playing indoor soccer.
Sunday- I woke up early, finished a book (I Capture the Castle….it was great; I’ll write about it later.), watched a German movie about a neurotic cook called Mostly Martha, made myself a pancake breakfast, but still couldn’t shake the blue feeling I had from the book’s sad ending. The main character reminded me a little of myself, in that her reality rarely lives up to her imagination. I got in the car and turned on the engine, and the song "Everybody Plays the Fool" was playing on the radio (here's the 
original Main Ingredient version...did you know that Cuba Gooding, the father of Cuba Gooding Jr., was their lead singer? Yeah, me neither.), which struck me as rather appropriate. However, spending the afternoon with my adorable nieces cheered me up. Even though I almost accidentally killed one of them in front of my sister and brother-in-law. Oops. Babies are squirmy and unpredictable.
Later on, Ern and I met up with Maria at the recently remodeled Playwright and then hit Tom English’s when the crowd got too much for us.
2 comments:
Your neice is too cute to have a baby comb-over.
It's not a comb-over, it's a Baby Toupee
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