RBOBoston Love

Okay, even if I was glad the Patriots tanked, and even though I'm rooting against the Celtics, I've got me some serious Boston Love going on.

Part of the joy was getting to see so many old friends. My darling K. and I dialed many old friends at a too-late hour (a grad school favorite) including a call to a friend in Germany who didn't understand my attempt to ask if she had Prince Albert in a can in French (I can only say "Bon jou, oui." but I try, damnit). And the inestimable N. and I picked out our Classic Novel for the Year (which may be one of the coolest traditions ever). This year was my pick - "The Bell Jar" by Sylvia Plath, which I am 170 pages into, having started this morning (there will likely be more on this). Last year N. picked out "An American Tragedy" by Theodore Dreiser which will, at best, someday serve to hold up a piece of my furniture.

That said, here's some random Boston-esque thoughts to help me warm back up for the blogging world:
  • I think the Harvard library charging outsiders for use is both totally expectable and totally shitty. I vote we make them call themselves something other than "library"
  • enough with the Duncan Donuts. It's like that Onion article about a Starbucks opening in the bathroom of a Starbucks, except with an Irish accent
  • no one, apparently, really says "wicked pisser." I am quite sad about this.
  • Best Burger in Boston: The Druid
  • I heard there's a bar where there's a Frank Sinatra impersonator on Sunday nights. Seriously. Everyone told me. I get it.
  • to the guy in the bar where the Frank Sinatra impersonator would be on a Sunday night: the baby blue Army coat with the upturned collar only makes you look more like a New Kid on the Block. And that's not a good thing.
  • to the woman I hit with the door as I came out of the bar: You're right. It wasn't cool. But, to be fair, you were on a cell phone and looking the other way, so I think you pretty much got what you deserved.
  • Paul Revere's house looks like my grandfather's house. He also had a lot of kids and probably rode around late at night shouting. We didn't make a big deal of it.
  • ladies of Boston, a word: enough with the black pea coats. You're starting to look like some sad, nautical themed gang.
  • so many female bartenders with Irish accents: Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhot! Honestly, it's like the promised land.

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Maggie said...

Boston is like, my favorite city. I adore it. Although the Harvard library thing has also pissed me off for years.

I am very jealous of you.

February 19, 2008 at 9:12 AM
Dr. Curmudgeon said...

If it makes you feel any better, I spent the whole time fighting off some sort of awful sore throat thing.

I actually heard a story that the various Harvard libraries charge each other when things are borrowed from one to another. It seems so ridiculous I can only assume it is true.

February 19, 2008 at 8:42 PM