Broken promises are never fun. That is why I am not going to promise to write more often. I don't want to let you down. I will, however, promise to TRY to write more often. Being a working person is a lot harder and takes a lot more time than TV suggests. Remember Miranda from Sex and the City? She was a lawyer. She always talked about how being a lawyer meant not having time for anything else. But then she was always talking about it from somewhere other than her office. Like at brunch with the ladies. Or in LA with the ladies. Or at a pizza place in Brooklyn with Steve. The whole thing was very deceiving, but in case you're wondering, lawyers in NYC work harder than Miranda. I'm living it. It's a fact.
Notwithstanding the above paragraph, I was able to get away to Boston this weekend and had a lovely three days up in the land of Anna's Taqueria and hailstorms. I hopped on Amtrak after work on Friday and took one of the only empty seats, next to a girl who looked a tad younger than me. She had chin and eyebrow piercings, and it looked like she hadn't washed her hair in about two weeks. We had a ton in common. My favorite part was when we were about 20 minutes from South Station and she called the person picking her up to complain about how badly she needed a cigarette. She must have dropped the f-bomb seven times during that phone call. For once in my life, my intense desire to arrive at my destination was not driven by my bladder. No, Friday night I counted down the seconds to our arrival, only hoping that my seatmate would wait until the doors opened before lighting up. Mission accomplished.
The weekend was one of relaxation and small indulgences. Small Asian Friend and I got pedicures on Saturday. The women told SAF and me to sit next to each other and to dip our feet into the water basins at our feet (pretty standard pedi procedure). They then, however, proceeded to work on my feet while letting SAF's wombat feet soak till they resembled giant prunes. Poor SAF. At least she had US Weekly and Brangelina to keep her company. Of course, since it's winter and I haven't worn anything other than flip flops to a pedi in about 3.5 years, I had no idea they would provide us with enormous foam flip flops. At first this seemed a good idea. That was, until I stood up to walk over to the dryer and my big toes on both feet got messed up as I tried to walk in those things. Oh well, I decided since it's winter and no one will see my toes but me, it really didn't matter. I finished and must have dried my toes for about 45 minutes by the time SAF was ready. Then came the real fun. SAF wanted that crazy oil stuff so her nails would dry faster, but I wanted none of it. I had been drying for 45 minutes- there was no need. I tried explaining that to the woman who rushed over with oil, but to no avail. Before I knew what was happening, she had oiled my toes and shoved plastic bags over my feet. I was then forced to put my boots on and walk up the giant hill to SAF's apartment with gross, wet plastic covering my feet inside my shoes. WHY WOULD THEY DO THAT? It was the most uncomfortable feeling ever. Just totally awkward. SAF didn't seem to mind. I mean, she did ask for it. Thanks a lot.
On Sunday, we partook in the amazingness that is Zipcar (Mr. Zipcar, I salute you) and made our way up to Maine for the outlet shopping. Mother would be so proud. It was a beautiful day as we set out on I-95. Much to our dismay and surprise, the clouds appeared, and then grew darker, the further north we drove. By the time we got to Kittery, it was pouring, and I was (obviously) wearing totally inappropriate footwear. To rectify that situation, we made the Kittery Trading Post our first destination, and I emerged from the store wearing sparkling new duck boots with the tags attached. My feet were instantly warmer, and thus spent the rest of the day thanking me. We drove on towards Bob's Clam Hut, a family favorite lunch spot, and found the parking lot surprisingly empty. Excited at the thought of shellfish and warmth, we bounded into the Hut, only to find the entire kitchen covered in darkness. Apparently, the power had gone out in all of Kittery, and the only reason we hadn't noticed it earlier was because the Trading Post had its own generator. Of course. We were forced to drive on, in an attempt to find some nourishment and dry quarters. The restaurant we found in Portsmouth exceeded all expectations (although its decor reminded me a bit of the cult restaurant Monard and I ate at months ago in Ithaca). We returned to Kittery to find the power had come back on and enjoyed a very successful (though lengthy) visit to Tumi.
On our way back to Boston, we surprised The Famous Auntie Bevy with a visit. Amazingly, we entered her house in the middle of a huge family event, so Small Asian Friend had the fortunate occasion to meet the whole clan. Of course, TFAB told her age old story about bathing me in the tiniest bowl when I was a baby. I may have mentioned this tale once or twice before, but suffice it to say that over the years I have progressed from being the size of a normal healthy baby, to fitting in a thimble full of soap and water. Priceless. The visit was terrific, and if it weren't for the time constraints of Zipcar, SAF would have enjoyed the best steak tips north of the Carolinas. But rather than turn into pumpkins (who owed Mr. Zip even more money), we returned to Boston, to an evening of mac and cheese and facebook stalking. Just perfect.
A few additional highlights of the trip included:
- finally joining the 21st century by buying an iPod touch. I love it. I love everything about it.
- seeing Leap Year by myself, while, due to unforeseen scheduling issues, my host and our other Boston friends saw In the Heights. The movie was horrible.
- discovering the best tea ever in SAF's kitchen cabinets: Yogi, Calming. Try it. You'll thank me. I promise.
In other news: I was asked to be a bridesmaid! This is incredibly exciting, and I am honored and thrilled to have been asked. The Bride is one of my housemates and best friends from college, and so far all the wedding prep stuff I've attended has been a blast. I can't believe we're old enough to be getting married. It's pretty incredible. Oh, and as a side note: I will be accepting applications for my plus-one beginning in a few months, so start working on those personal statements.
One more thing: I just caught the end of The Notebook. I don't think I ever cry as much at a screen as I do when I watch this movie. Oh wait, other than when I watch Extreme Makeover, Home Edition. Say what you will, but that show is heartwarming and uplifting and mushy and sad and fantastic.
