rectangleAds
Hopefully it is tasteful
The joysticks of travelling
May 10th, 2012
Last night we arrived in Boston around 11:30. Jeremiah and I had a full work day and ran the clock down to the wire to get to the airport. He and Jeffrey went to Edgewook to get something to eat. So I sat on my porch drinking Mailbu and A&W Root Beer to steady my mounting nerves while listening to the neighbors talking about possibly dismantling the chop shop, work ethic and avoiding incarceration. I live a charmed life.
We got to the airport, said our goodbyes to Jeffrey then went to the security gate at Hartsfield where we entertained ourselves by cruizing the chunky bear TSA agent and passing judgement on everyone around us. Time well spent, since it practicly flew by.
Once past the log jam, we boarded our flight on Air Tran, and found our seats at the front of the plane. Jeremiah flipped through the Sky Mall catelogue and we fantisized about better living through Mademoiselle haute coture lamps. On the flight I played Lunar: Silver Star Harmony on my Vita while he played Uncharted: Golden Abyss. I came across the singer in Lann, and had to get Jeremiah to pause his game and take out a single earbud to listen to her ridicuous 'song.'
The flight was smooth, and we landed without incident or care. Neither of us had been to Boston before, so it was a mild culture tingle once we stepped out of the airport and was whisked away by a cabbie. All of the streetsigns were new to us and all of the stone engravings were old news. "This bridge was built in 1910." "Mmmmmhmmm."
We were brought to the Cambridge Marriot, and checked in. To my surprise, separate rooms were booked for us by Mr. Kelly at MIT. Jeremiah and I parted, each tending to our personal needs. He took a shower and poured a cup of tea, I unpacked my suitcase and stepped out for a smoke. The rainy night was calling me, beckoning me to explore this new town. A short adventure was in order. Amidst the light downpour, I came across the MIT Press Bookstore, and it became more apparent that I was standing on the steps of a world-renouned institution of knowledge est. 1861. I walked past the Cancer research building and read about cell processes while admiring their blown-up prints of the subject matter.
Jeremiah texted me about his delicious Chamomile and I told him about my adventures in the night streets of the town. He came down and we hunted for food while I showed him what I had already found around the school. There was a little bed and breakfast along the way brimming with quaint New England charm, and not a soul on the streets. Eventually we got our sodden fill of the night air, and went back to our respective rooms with pints of Ben and Jerry's to sate the rumble in our bellies and sleep off the miles of travel.





We Attend All Functions