Change
So this past week has been a busy one. I taught and all the usual junk. That was mundane. Then on Friday, I flew up to Boston during the last gasps of a hurricane. Well, I was lucky to get off the ground, and admittedly, it was on a totally different flight than the one on which I was booked. Tim was flying in from NYC (he no longer works for the Senatrix, so calling him my Senate Contact is disingenuous. I considered calling him my Legal Counsel, but I might just stick with actual names from now on). He arrived at Logan shortly after I did, so we shared a cab to his place.
And what did I find walking to his apartment? My bike was stolen! Yes, my beloved bike, my 12th birthday present, the one I gave to Tim and locked up outside of his apartment was stolen within a week of my putting it there. The funny thing is that it has been left in Central Square for months before I moved it to the North End, and it was safe as could be there.
My trip had two goals: first, to see Tim before his trial down in Marshall, TX, and second, to collect Iseult and move her to her new home, my apartment. Both went smashingly well, though on Saturday, I did try a JD drink that left my mouth numb (add that to the list of booze I can't have). On Sunday morning, Tim flew back to NYC, and I met with Teena to serve lunch at Rosie's. It was super fun! She is as crazy as ever, as indicated by the fact that she and I wore the SAME OUTFIT. I was glad to see her.
The dual to my bike being stolen happened at the very end of the trip. While struggling with the kitty on the plane, I left my iPod in the seat pocket in front of me. I realized it not 10 minutes later, and I spoke with the people at the lost and found / baggage customer support. They sent someone to look at the plane, but it was already gone. Stolen just like that. It's my own fault, and I feel stupid for leaving it on the plane, but I also feel really bad, not only about losing it so foolishly but also about losing a gift from my parents.
So that's it. Other things are just incidental (like how I moved to Virginia) or amusing to me (like how I was hit on the head by a wasp fighting a cicada). Maybe I'll fill in more of those later.
And what did I find walking to his apartment? My bike was stolen! Yes, my beloved bike, my 12th birthday present, the one I gave to Tim and locked up outside of his apartment was stolen within a week of my putting it there. The funny thing is that it has been left in Central Square for months before I moved it to the North End, and it was safe as could be there.
My trip had two goals: first, to see Tim before his trial down in Marshall, TX, and second, to collect Iseult and move her to her new home, my apartment. Both went smashingly well, though on Saturday, I did try a JD drink that left my mouth numb (add that to the list of booze I can't have). On Sunday morning, Tim flew back to NYC, and I met with Teena to serve lunch at Rosie's. It was super fun! She is as crazy as ever, as indicated by the fact that she and I wore the SAME OUTFIT. I was glad to see her.
The dual to my bike being stolen happened at the very end of the trip. While struggling with the kitty on the plane, I left my iPod in the seat pocket in front of me. I realized it not 10 minutes later, and I spoke with the people at the lost and found / baggage customer support. They sent someone to look at the plane, but it was already gone. Stolen just like that. It's my own fault, and I feel stupid for leaving it on the plane, but I also feel really bad, not only about losing it so foolishly but also about losing a gift from my parents.
So that's it. Other things are just incidental (like how I moved to Virginia) or amusing to me (like how I was hit on the head by a wasp fighting a cicada). Maybe I'll fill in more of those later.
posted by Just a Guy | 1:52 PM
2 Comments:
Just when I had given up on your blog forever, you go and update it!
I love that you read the posting about how we wore the same outfit. I'd forgotten about that until I reread this. My god, this `blogging thing might be useful...
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