Warlocks

          The Green Line was shut down this morning, and nearly all of the staff came in late. Downtown Crossing still reeks of curdled milk. I spent hours digging through the basement in search of files that were cleared for destruction, which is easier said than done. After consuming an ungodly amount of candy, I went to the bank to take care of business and say goodbye to Abner, since he's starting at another job on Monday. Costumes sighted downtown: young woman with devil horns and red bow tie; guy on crutches dressed as a giraffe, with said crutches dressed up as "legs"; girl in a cheerleader uniform; dude in a perfect Hulk Hogan costume; baby twins as devil and angel; ultra cute child dressed as Thomas the Tank Engine, followed by an ultra creepy adult dressed as Po from the Teletubbies.
          Our Halloween party was a resounding success. Sara baked a creepy cake, Alaric set up an apple bobbing station in our cooler, and we had bowls of candy at the ready. I was frazzled at the beginning because Alaric and Nathan, the extroverts of the apartment, were performing with Ryan and it was up to me and Sean to run things. We managed to get it off the ground, people got drunk, and fun happened. Numerous guests were in attendance; I spent much of the party with either Maddie and her friend Shreya, sitting with Steph/Julia/Emily, shooting the shit with Matt T and Griffin, or dancing with Lindsay, Jane and Lauren F. Some highlight-reel costumes: Amy as a BC girl; Maddie as a flapper; Griffin as a pirate (complete with booty); Rachelle as Violet Parr; Luke's Ace Frehley + something else; Iris as a Hershey kiss; Lauren F as a nun. I went as Carlos Danger, private dick and man of mystery. With the possible exception of the spontaneous rave at 1023 -- the cut-up glow sticks were a foot-stabbing nightmare -- this was the messiest party we've ever thrown. Ryan L took it on himself to throw Laffy Taffy everywhere, and candy wrappers are going to creep out of the couch for weeks. Tomorrow, we're going to Jared's to do it again!
          Quotes of the day:
"I had to take the 66 from Coolidge Corner to Roxbury Crossing and then take the Orange Line in. I could have walked faster." - Kara
"Man, we're mulchers. Look at this bowl - it just goes down." - Jodi, re: the candy situation
...
Gerry: "So, you're gonna drink a beer and pass out the candy?"
Emmett: "I won't be as obvious as a brown paper bag, but..."

Poor Old Jack

          I rose early to sort through more clippings; hopefully I can get through all of them before Halloween, so they're safely away and/or being put up. I was in a sunny mood for the morning commute, despite a moment of claustrophobia on the T, and settled into work. I'm now a Keurig magician: 6 oz. milk chocolate hot cocoa + 6 oz. French vanilla coffee + a little cream = sweet sippin' caffeine conjunction junction.
          I came home to a very clean and reorganized apartment, courtesy of Alaric. We made drinks to get near-empty handles out of the way for tomorrow, put on Center Ice, and watched a lot of hockey. Alaric tested the fog machine, with hilariously effective results; I built the remainder of my Rangers shrine and am very proud of it; Emily came over and watched The Nightmare Before Christmas with me as we passed through midnight into Halloween. Highlights: Singing along; settling the question of whether you watch it on Christmas or Halloween along the way.
          Quotes of the day:
"I know what to do. I'll murder you in your sleep and taxidermy you. Stuffed animalllllll." - Iris

"It was a good double play. Good for charity, and good for business." - Emmett
"[REDACTED]'s theme song: 'Linger' by the Cranberries." - Emily

It Does Nothing!

Note: I'm proud that I've finally caught up on entries, having fallen three months behind. Here's hoping I can keep the lag to less than a week at the longest.

          There are no straight answers on Walter's condition yet; with luck, he'll make a speedy recovery. Another disgusting piece of news: Keytar Bear, that Bruins-jersey-and-bear-suit-wearing busker, was attacked and robbed at knifepoint last night. I just tipped this guy for brightening my day, and this is the thanks he gets? Two people filmed the incident on their smartphones, even as he was slashed in the face. New lows of human behavior don't surprise me anymore, but I still have the capacity to get angry about it. I got past a few sticky tasks that have been bugging me for a while, and felt good about my work at the end of the day.
          John Moore received a well-deserved 5-game suspension for headhunting Erik Haula; it sucks for my team, but I think it should have been a longer punishment given his repeat offender status. After work, I met Iris and we went to the apartment to watch hockey. As the Red Wings battled the Capitals in a dubious Wednesday Night Rivalry, Iris baked for the first time, to no discernible effect. I was pulling for the Red Wings and fell asleep with the Capitals up 2-1. Detroit ended up winning 4-2, so I guess that napping is a good luck charm for my teams; the others went to Tasty Burger and put on Parks and Rec. The dialogue from the show crept into my dreams and was delivered by random characters; it felt surreal when I woke and the same voices I'd just been listening to were coming out of different mouths. There was also a mushroom burger plopped right in front of me, and my bewilderment turned to joy as the burger went into my face.
          Quote of the day:
"This is just further proof that this one's gonna live forever." - Kara, re: Harold

"Groovy."

          I rose early and began to transform my closet door into a shrine to the Rangers. It's the first thing one sees when they walk in our front door, and as such, it needs to be impressive. At work, I was informed that Walter is in the hospital with fluid in his lungs -- probably related to the respiratory infection he picked up in Ireland. Fingers crossed. I interviewed another potential co-op, who turned out to be a clarinet named Christina from the pep band. Our conversation was light and pleasant, skirting the fact that we'd never spoken to each other before.
          After work, Emily and I ate quesadillas at El Pelon and made minimal conversation. (Her initials are EEK!) We returned to the apartment to watch the Bruins play the Wild; my allegiance and Alaric's lay with the Wild, while Nathan rooted for the B's and Emily kept her inclinations hidden. The Bruins were winning 3-1 when Alaric nudged the surge protector and inadvertently flipped the hyper-sensitive power switch. We reset all of the sacred telecommunications devices, but we have been derelict in our duties and were forced to sit through a lengthy TiVo update. (Seriously, how can updates for less than two months take so long to install?) Luckily, we caught the last several minutes of the game; much to my delight, the Wild eked out their own comeback and silenced TD Garden, 4-3.
          I took a break to obtain more wine for Nathan, Emily and myself. Alaric joined us for Emily's favorite movie, Evil Dead 2: Dead By Dawn. I haven't seen the original ED or the third movie, Army of Darkness, but I've heard a lot about them and star Bruce Campbell. Dead By Dawn was goofy to the extreme -- it felt like the funny 1/3 of Cabin In the Woods -- and full of hilarious, Nightmare On Elm Street-esque splatter effects. Highlights: Four different colors of blood, not counting shades of red; chainsaw arm; Ash laughing along with every object in the room; sentient plants ("I've seen enough hentai to know where this is going.") Since Alaric and Emily somehow hadn't seen it, I, Robot was on deck. We discussed the appeal of Will Smith -- never the smartest, never the strongest, but always a scrappy everyman -- and enjoyed the pure, delicious quotability of the movie. I can't think of a single scene that doesn't have at least one memorable line. ("You're lucky I can't breathe, or I'd walk all up and down your ass!"...."I did not murder him!"...."That, Detective, is the right question."...."Humans in danger! Humans in danger!") I think Isaac Asimov is one of the most brilliant writers of the last century, but it's easy to forgive the movie's lack of relation to his work. The action is rousing, the CGI still looks fine ten years later, and Smith carries the movie like Mariah. Due to a later, untimely interruption, I walked Emily home and brainstormed about Halloween costumes with Nathan. He threw out some helpful ideas -- "Inspect-Her Gadget" was a solid choice -- but Parks and Rec ultimately gave me an answer.
          Quotes of the day:
"It's a digital world, brother." - Dave W
"I could say, 'Does God exist?' and you would say, 'Fine.'" - Russell, re: Emily's reticent nature
"I'm just glad someone did something stupid and it wasn't me." - Emily
"I'm totally down for being, like, the sex vessel of the rebellion." - Emily
...
Me: "You're a sweet tea Southern boy."
Nathan: "I could not hate sweet tea more."

East Coast Overdose

          I had a cruddy day of work, nodding off more often than not and getting little done. Late in the afternoon, I bumped into Keytar Bear on the way to the bank; I left him a tip for making me feel better with his sweet keytar tunes. Before keeling over in bed, I was dimly aware that the Wild were leading my Rangers 3-0. If memory serves, "god dammit" was the last thing I said to myself before blacking out. On awakening, I found that the Rangers had scored five goals in the third period to complete a massive comeback. The last time New York beat anyone when entering the third period and down three goals was in 1992, when they defeated another Minnesota team: the North Stars. I'm not proud of John Moore's dirty elbow on Erik Haula -- I like the occasional fight, but there's no place for needlessly savage goonery in hockey. Click to read the NHL's article about the game if you're interested. Also, the Oilers shut out the Habs 3-0, sweet revenge for Montreal's win the other night. It seems that Ben Scrivens is still Mr. Wonderful after all.

My emotions at this time:

Wutter Nation

          I woke up around 10:45 with a groan. I was drastically late for busking, and there was no way I would make it to the Common in time to join the rest of the group. My mood was improved when I realized that both Nathan and Alaric also overslept, and Emily missed a brunch with her parents. All of us rose slowly, like zombies clawing their way out of the dirt, and Emily and I meandered toward campus for the volleyball game versus UNCW. Remember that recent game that I decried as the worst I could remember? This was a close second, and Iris unfortunately chose to attend volleyball for the first time. The Huskies were decimated in three swift sets, but somehow I wasn't nearly as broken up as last time. Possible reasons: 1) I'm used to defeat; 2) UNCW means nothing to me; 3) it was over so fast that there was time for activities afterward; 4) we were getting whooped so thoroughly that a quick end was the best I could pray for. While the bloody mist was still settling, I got food with Alaric, Iris, Shay, and Georgia. We discussed JL's decision to stop playing at women's hockey games (thanks to a feud with Athletics), hockey (Georgia is showing signs of Avalanche fandom), and the constant struggle between Shay and me. Everyone bought at least two items of comfort food from various stalls in Curry, and we went our separate ways once properly stuffed.
          We finally convinced Iris to be the other. After an extended laughing fit, she began to touch everything in the apartment and became firmly convinced that her hands were wet. We trekked to CVS so that I could buy a roll of painter's tape, then stopped at Rod Dee 2 for food. I had the Massaman curry, my usual, and Iris ordered an excellent Pad Thai. I napped not long after we got home, then stayed up all night to finish the first season of Arrow.
          Quotes of the day:
"I don't know how to constructively interact with you." - Shay
"Everything is wet. And cold." - Iris
"It's just so very perplexing." - Iris
"Everything changed when Wutter Nation attacked." - me
"...that feeling that you have in your worst dream, but captured in reality. Like squeezing out a grapefruit and wringing out a towel, but picture a grapefruit." - Iris, going way over my head

From Dusk Till Dawn

          JL was timely in canceling rehearsal today; I couldn't bear to get any work done. Instead, I relaxed to music and watched the Bruins stomp the Maple Leafs. One of my favorite things is listening to the NESN announcers gloss over peewee-status plays and careless turnovers by the Bruins, and this game was full of those, the win notwithstanding. One Leaf completely whiffed on the puck during a prime scoring opportunity; another flew solo into the zone and lobbed the puck at Rask with the intensity of a warmup toss in little league baseball. The Leafs abruptly hit the gas pedal in the last three minutes, but were unable to close the gap and collapsed. All told, the game was a joke, but a fun blowout all the same. Other hockey stuff: The Wild skewered the Lightning with six different scorers, 7-2 (holy depth, Batman!); the Islanders beat the Stars in another scary bout, 7-5; the Rangers lost to the Habs, 1-3; and the Sabres somehow managed to squeeze two points out of the Sharks with a lights-out game from Michael Neuvirth.
          I wasn't feeling too positive about moving around, and declined invitations to a game night at the Phons and an improv show with Iris, Johnny and Evan. In time, Emily came over and we watched Blair Witch Project, From Dusk Till Dawn, Machete, and Chicken Run in quick succession. During this time, we tanked a huge bottle of Cabernet, debated the merits (or lack thereof) of George Clooney's hair, and laughed often. The second film is a charming '90s horror comedy featuring Quentin Tarantino, George Clooney, Harvey Keitel, and hordes of vampires. Cheech Marin plays three characters and the revolver-cock makes its first appearance -- Robert Rodriguez evidently went back through his old props for Machete Kills. There are two gratuitous Tarantino foot fetish scenes, though he didn't even direct the movie. (He did write the screenplay, though.) Did I mention the vampires?
          Quotes of the day:
"...and Van Riemsdyk is gonna spend the next two minutes of his life in the penalty box." - NESN announcer
"Rask was there several minutes before he shot that." - Alaric, re: a terrible effort
"Well, now I have to..." - Emily and I, every time someone on screen drank or smoked
...
Me: "See, this is what I like to see the Bruins do."
Alaric: "Trample."
Me: "Sweep clowns."

Cabal

            Yesterday, the world was getting in my way at every turn. I felt like I had it by the balls today. I was very cheerful on my way into work, whistling and smiling, and everything seemed to go more or less smoothly. While sitting at reception, something made me think of the nights Alaric and I sat out behind our place at 1023 Tremont, and I was awash with sweet memories. Milton S. Eisenhower said that "the essence of nostalgia is an awareness that what has been will never be again."
          I got out of work early and zoomed home to prepare for the night ahead. Once again, I gave all of my money to the laundromat next door and was rewarded with clean clothing. Ryan L met Alaric, Sean and me at home, and we danced around to "Anaconda" while selecting duds for the Underwear Run. I went without face paint this time, but accessorized with my purple tie, red & black socks, and Bonnaroo bandanna. We met with Peter and Sabrina (!!!), Sarah, Adam, and Geordie at Speare, and the run was a smash success as usual. Alaric and I were near the front of the pack this time, and hence did not end up in the crush that always happens within the Pru. This time, I made sure to shout at as many people as possible, usually some variant of "go dogs," "whoooooooooo," or "NORTHEASTERN BEANPOT CHAMPS 2015 BABY, I GUARANTEE IT!" I also made sure to run through a significant portion of the reflecting pool this time around. At the end of the race, we formed a high-five line to greet incoming runners and bumped into Jake, Brian F, Georgia, the Delivery Man, Iris, Maddie, Niki, Malcolm, Jared, Lauren C, and others. I also saw (but avoided) Joseph and Harrison C.
          After the run, it was time for the Cabal, my long-planned and self-indulgent party. Among the partygoers: Eric, Meredith, Sabrina, Peter, Stephanie, Julia, Jennifer, Malcolm, Jared, Evan, Johnny, Iris, Emily, Michelle (and her German date), Nathan, Sean, Alaric, Laura, Haley, Luke, and me. We bantered about hockey, caught up with each other, and those six of us in baby blue went for a transcendental adventure. Highlights: Seeing Sabrina and Eric; receiving a jacket with an NHL patch from Sabrina; laughing hysterically; getting another excellent entry in my black notebook; Julia walking home without shoes; throwing another successful party. Anti-highlights: Wine being spilled on my carpet and some family photos; my 1999 Jennifer Schaffer Run glass being smashed by some overzealous dancers.

          Quote of the day:
"Nice kicks, Andy!" - Ashley
"Write a thing." - John
"Confirmed thing." - John, after I wrote a thing
"If you're talking about all of spacetime, then nothing is up, really." - Laura
"It's similar to being high on weed, except sometimes I forget I have limbs." - Peter
"I feel like I'm a computer, where you say something and I need a second to respond. I need the time to process." - me
"Like I can manage to count words right now!" - Peter
"This is good. This fits. This is how it should be." - Sabrina

.  .  .  .  .

"A cabal is a group of people united in some close design together, usually to promote their private views or interests in a church, state, or other community, often by intrigue. Cabals are sometimes secret societies composed of a few designing persons, and at other times are manifestations of emergent behavior in society or governance on the part of a community of persons who have well established public affiliation or kinship. The term can also be used to refer to the designs of such persons or to the practical consequences of their emergent behavior, and also holds a general meaning of intrigue and conspiracy. The use of this term usually carries strong connotations of shadowy corners, back rooms and insidious influence. The term is frequently used in conspiracy theories; some Masonic conspiracy theories describe Freemasonry as an internationalist secret cabal."

The Cookie Cycle

          I like oatmeal raisin cookies, and I love chocolate chip cookies, but I absolutely hate thinking one is the other and not knowing until the first bite. For the third day in a row, I made arrangements to meet someone in preparation for Friday's party and it finally worked out. Hockey news: The Islanders swept some clowns in Boston, 3-2; the Hurricanes are still winless; and Darcy Kuemper won his third shutout for the Wild this season. The Islanders are utterly terrifying this year. I slept, then rage cleaned, smoked and watched more Arrow.

Nemo In Slumberland

          I woke up feeling terrible, called in sick, and slept until 5:30 p.m. The pep band had a rehearsal in the ballroom, and the weather was not unlike a hurricane when we left. We hustled to the Columbus parking garage, where Justin was kind enough to give us a ride home. Safe and dry at home, I watched a good deal of Attack On Titan and Arrow. Later, around 4 a.m., I went for a run in the relentless storm and nearly murdered my iPod (the screen wouldn't turn on for a few hours afterward, and flickered thereafter.) In hockey news: the Senators game was postponed on account of the shooting at Parliament in Ottawa; Philadelphia wrested the championship belt from Pittsburgh, 5-3.

Black Math At the Chapel

          I was painfully late for work this morning, and as usual, it was because I did my best to get up early. It really is true: people are their own worst enemies. A new lawyer, Danielle, started today after moving into A.T.'s old office. Later on, I watched The Flash and ate cookies with Nathan and Alaric. Also: The Rangers came back after trailing 3-1 and beat the Devils in overtime, 4-3, on a beautiful drop pass from Kreider to Optimus Klein; the Hurricanes still have not managed to win a game; and even the Panthers can beat the Avalanche, evidently.
          Quotes of the day:
"What they do is not math. It's Satanic. It's devilish." - Nathan, re: accounting
...
Dru: "They're the loudest hall."
Emmett: "Yes, I apologize in advance for the hoots and hollers you'll hear!"
...
Kathy: "So, you thought you'd check out the competition."
Frank: "There is no competition."

2 Snug 2 Move

          I said so yesterday as well, but sweet Jesus my quads are burning. This is reminding me of the first two weeks that I ran cross country in high school: an enduring ache deep in the muscles, less painful than rusty, like they're shaking off years of disuse. At home, I smoked and watched Gotham with Iris, Alaric and Sean. I then found myself entirely unable to drag myself off the mega-ottoman and went to sleep there.

You're Slipping

          My quads are on fire. I've been running on and off, but playing laser tag means moving in a unique way: lots of stops and starts, quick dashes and sudden halts, dropping to one knee or taking off from a crouch. One of my favorite techniques this weekend was to squat behind cover, extend one leg backward, and come up around the corner at an unconventional angle, all of which requires balancing on muscles I don't typically use.
          After a rehearsal at the Fenway Center, some of the band was assigned to play at another corporate gig. This time, we took a bus to the convention center by the waterfront (the same one where I protested not long ago); our assignment was to play at the opening of a neuroscience convention. The band was set up in a huge room with awful acoustics, not to mention in a spot where people couldn't really stop to listen -- we were essentially on a landing between two escalators. We didn't play for very long or particularly well; since everyone was spread along a narrow walkway, the low and high voices were too far apart and couldn't hear each other. Nevertheless, we got paid for it!
          Several people dropped by Stetson East for food after we got back to campus, and we decided to have a movie night at our place. Maddie, Malcolm, Nathan and Sean all stuck around to watch True Lies, that paragon of funny action flicks. This is the first time that me and Maddie have hung out without me sobbing wretchedly. I proceeded to pull a near-all nighter and watched numerous episodes of Arrow.

Habs Sweep These Clowns

          I spent all of Saturday morning and afternoon stressing about laser tag. A few short of the target 50 people had signed up, and I was worried that we would never get enough people on the bus. I also had to move up the meeting time due to the weekend schedule being much sparser than normal. When we met at Ruggles, it came out that several more people had canceled last-minute, leaving us with a perfect 34 (the max that can play in one game!) With the help of Justin, Ryan L, and Brian B, I managed to herd the kids from Northeastern to Forest Hills to the Dedham Mall, and we made good time. From the mall, it was just a scenic walk along the VFW Parkway until we reached Laser Quest; I talked to Malcolm and Maddie for most of the way. We hit the scene and walked into a mess of shrieking children and dreadful acoustics.

          Each of the three games was a total blast. The first was a rowdy free-for-all; I went by the name of "DOUGHBOI" and got 12th place out of 32 players. We took a break to abolish some pizzas and soda, and were joined by Nathan and Julia, who braved a tempest to get there. Julia provided Malcolm and I with cookies, as well. We moved on to the second game, a team match in which passions ran high. I was spam-killed by followers a few times, and scored 17 of 34 as "EBOLA". (Ebola killed Peyton Manning four times during this thirty-minute period.) I tightened up my game for the third and final round, again taking 12th place as "CRMSONCHIN" and helping lead Team Habs to victory, despite our team lacking a top-3 scorer. During this round, Matt T and I were camped out in opposing towers and tried to pick each other off for an extended period of time; I got him four times, and he took me for five. Other highlights of the night: Everyone screaming the pre-game instructions back at the marshal; Ryan L taking the MVP triple crown as "KATIEPERRY"; shouting "Habs" as a call sign; everyone refusing my pleas to use the codename "SISTERWIFE"; letting rip with a devil-laugh once in a while; Erika unexpectedly snagging 2nd place as "ALPACA"; walking back-to-back with Matt T during the second round; defending a particular position from left, right and below; bagging people through a grate in the floor. I perceive a certain professionalism in laser tag; if you shoot someone, I think the two of you should attempt to separate before re-engaging. Matt T agrees; Ryan L vehemently does not.

          Several of us, full of adrenaline and testosterone, left the crowd behind and ran back to the mall. Malcolm and I sprinted out the last hundred meters or so, and I came in just ahead. On the bus, Malcolm had a laughing fit while a freshman named Mary ranted about what kind of Transformer she wants to be. A cruel trick was played on me when Nathaniel pretended to have lost my bag; what did I do to deserve that? Once everyone was safely home, we had a small but amusing gathering at home. This was intended to be a real party, but the band was too tired for most people to make it. Julia, Stephanie, Ryan L, Johnny, Evan, Griffin, Malcolm, and Emily came by for music, hookah and conversation. I'm proud that the evening worked out as planned. Now I have a fire in me to organize more events; we'll see what works soon enough.

          Quote of the day:
Me: "We're actually car thieves."
Maddie: "That's why everyone's wearing black!"

Luch

          Today, I misspelled "lunch". The rest of my shift proved that it really was one of those days. Dru laid on the snark over a task that I wasn't tackling quickly enough, and I was loaded with random work as the renovation/demolition begin later tonight. I was too exhausted to go to Allston, and stayed home.

The Die Is Cast

          The weather has been unseasonably warm, even summery, for the last two or three days. Today, it poured. Highlight of work: throwing my shoulder into a large, oaken desk in an attempt to budge it and nearly smashing a swanky lamp. I got off the Green Line a stop early for a powwow with JL at the band office. None of us were sure what these meetings held in store -- were we getting chewed out? did JL want to get our individual views on a sensitive issue without groupthink? -- but my pet theory was that we'd be individually pressured re: the implementation of dues. Instead, it was a quiet meeting in which a handbook for each council position was suggested, I refused to back down on the spreadsheet joke incident, and we had a little heart-to-heart about top-down leadership styles and their effects. Even when he's joking around, JL can be a pretty somber dude, so it's hard to discern his emotions in the moment. I moved some polos that needed moving in order to appease him, just in case. I then fought through the rain to buy liquor for a friend in IV (Hollywood Liquors represent!) Home at last, I watched the season 3 finale of The Sopranos with the boys, and then Parks & Rec until I passed out.
          Hockey update: The Rangers very narrowly beat the winless Hurricanes, who are missing three of their top players, 2-1 in the shootout. Too close for comfort. The Islanders unfortunately won over the Sharks, 4-3 in the shootout, ending San Jose's unbeaten streak (ouch.) I also delivered a prophecy. The Avalanche was on the power play and already up 3-2 over the Senators, and these were my words: "The Sens will kill this, score, then score again." The penalty was killed and the Senators scored twice in the next six minutes. All I failed to call was their fifth, game-sealing goal to make it 5-3. Pesky Senators are best Senators.
          Quote of the day:
"I love all these 'demo' signs on the walls. This is what they do when you get your leg amputated." - Jodi

Drunk On the Clock

          Dru and Kathy surprised me with a gift certificate to Cosi and a little card thanking me for my hard work prior to the renovation. Bob recently decided that we need to get rid of some old beer. I mean old; there are cases of Bud Light with Super Bowl XLVII packaging. Accordingly, he covered the dates on the bottles with numbers 1 through 10 and had a beer tasting, complete with pretzels, chips, and French onion dip. The plan: Keep the better-tasting antique beers for end-of-the-night dregs for the office Christmas party; give away or discard the junkier ones. Some of the beers tasted more or less normal; some were dramatically flat (Bud Light); and some were a little skunky. But even skunk-beer will do the trick, and my cheeks were rosy by the time we got through vintage #10. About fifteen people came for the tasting, and maybe ten stuck around for conversation until 6 pm or so. Thus, the last hour of my shift was spent putting in work on some brews.
          Beer significantly improves the commute, especially if you ride the Green Line. Before we left the building, I poured the remainder of a foamy, flavorless beer into a coffee cup and lidded it. I maneuvered through the crowds and descended into the stuffy pit of noise and jostling people that is the Park Street station; there, three C trains passed me by while I waited, sipping all the while. These are normally things that would stress me out, but today, I felt serene. A train finally arrived with its screens blank (interior and exterior) and the electronic stop announcer switched off. I said, "Fuck it," and boarded. This led to interesting conversations at each stop: "What train is this?" "I don't know." It was an E train after all, and I got to the MFA with no trouble. At home, I watched three episodes of The Sopranos with Julia, Nathan and Alaric, and Sean joined us for the next episode of American Horror Story. The twists are already enticing, but the show is still in "introduce everyone" mode and needs time to get in gear.
          Quote of the day:
"That's our goal. Make people have nightmares." - Dru

No Man Is An Islander

          The internet went down at work, meaning that everyone panicked. I freaked out later, after the Islanders beat the Rangers 6-3. I do not enjoy the idea of the Islanders returning as a playoff contender, though beating them would make up for it. A few band members met in Curry to rehearse for busking, and we played some new and old tunes; "Louie Louie" returned, and I'm in love with our arrangement of "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun." After rehearsal, we watched the second episode of The Flash (verdict: reasonably good) and some Parks & Rec. I went for another late-night run -- living right by the Fens is convenient that way.

Brolumbus Day

          The firm is open on Columbus Day, so while everyone else was sleeping in, I was on my way to Park Street. The post office and bank were both closed, so the day was relatively quiet. Emmett brought his son and two of his friends in to work, and the little scamps drank soda and ran around all day. I took a nap to recharge after work, then watched Gotham and The Fifth Element with Nathan, Iris, and later Alaric and Sean. If you haven't seen it before, The Fifth Element comes highly recommended from both Sean and myself. It's the spirit of a B movie, layered with hyper-expensive CGI and set design. Science fiction rubs elbows with mysticism; aliens sing opera; stuff explodes. Bruce Willis is stalwart as ever, but Gary Oldman steals the show as usual. Watch it drunk for bonus points. Hockey news: The Lightning wasted the Habs in a 7-1 playoff revenge match; Stamkos even scored a hat trick!

Plan the Parade

          When I woke up, I continued with The Sopranos in an effort to catch up to the others. We're going to finish season 3 together, but I'm still a few episodes "behind." I rose eventually to go to Iris's for crepes, and my slight headache turned into a full-blown hangover migraine. My head felt like it was being crushed by a machine designed to painfully crush heads. When we got to Iris's, we walked into a room full of strangers and I made a beeline for Sara and Elizabeth's room, which was considerably quieter. I had to wave Elizabeth's camera out of my face before I could hit the deck and think about how badly my head was throbbing. Eventually, the aspirin kicked in and I was able to sit up and talk with Malcolm, Jared, Iris, and others. The crepes were scrumptious; I loaded mine with whipped cream and strawberry jam.
          Later on, I felt much better. I acted on this by distracting Nathan from his homework. We discussed the geopolitics of Israel, World War 2, and Vietnam intensely and at length, in a somewhat rambling style well suited to the both of us. I was hoping the Rangers would cheer me up tonight, but they just added to my hockey misery by losing badly to the Maple Leafs, 6-3. I clutched at the hope that the Jets would somehow overcome the Kings, but of course L.A. won 4-1 as well. Finally, I crawled into a hole and watched more of The Sopranos, nearing the end of the third season.

Teardrops On My Blocker

          The band met for a pre-game rehearsal at Matthews, because JL is a trumpet-playing sadist and likes to ruin chops before they have a chance to entertain the crowds. Between the rehearsal and puck drop, most people went to get lunch; I stuck around in the nearly empty arena, sat directly in the center of the Doghouse, and meditated quietly for some time. When the start of the game was near, I got up to my old tricks again. (Specifically, those involving opaque water bottles and cranberry juice.) JL decided to rearrange the band with trumpets in the front row on the balcony! This is a super cool development. The trombones are behind us as usual, and everyone else is shifted up behind them, with JL standing in the center of the band and shouting out cues. It's better this way because (1) the brass dancing in the front is a lot more obvious and a better look than woodwinds doing the same; (2) JL is more visible and audible to nearly everyone; and (3) I wanted it like this. The only negatives are a couple of miscued songs by the sections up front -- the director being behind us might have something to do with that -- and the drumming is harder to make out from our position, important because trumpets carry the melody 9 out of 10 times.
          The men's hockey team was utterly rolled by UVM. I can't blame the officials this time, though there were a couple of crappy calls on both sides. No, the Huskies looked like a peewee team with lazy play and numerous sloppy turnovers, and we were down 5-0 before a flurry of goals made it a 6-2 final score. I knew Witt would be pulled after he made a save at the end of the second and looked back to see if it had trickled in, demonstrating a total loss of confidence. Free shirts were given out (actually hockey-specific ones this time!) and the pep band was repeatedly denied their own, even after a couple of periods. Fans took extras as they left, and there were none left for us. The game laid me low, but this was somehow worse: as if the pep band is neither a part of the student body nor the hockey team's biggest fans, and that includes the Doghouse itself. That's disrespect, pure and simple. Claire and Iris also had the misfortune to attend this turd of a game.
          Afterward, we decided to invite a few people over for drinks to forget what we'd seen. Nathan, Alaric, Brian B, Maddie, Sean, Ted, Sara, and Iris were present for some WiiU dickery. I won at the Luigi's Mansion minigame (no surprise there) and had a steady hand in the stupid chase minigame as well. We streamed part of the Oilers/Canucks game, but thankfully decided to switch it off before the tide turned against Edmonton. Those of us who were left took a shot, then took a shot at the No Cry playlist. Once again, the fifth or so video was way too much for me. I cried in the same exact place as last time -- I mean, really gut-wrenching, sobbing crying -- and felt cleansed when it was over. None of the remaining videos had a similar effect. Finally, Iris and I watched a bit of The Sopranos before passing out on the couch.
          Quotes of the day:
"The discourse is just out of control." - Emily, re: pumpkin spice
"Ruble is just Rubinoff that went through Ellis Island." - Alaric
"I knew we would be getting sad-drunk, but..." - Alaric

The Abomination of Obama's Nation

          The office is bracing itself for a large demolition project next week, and since I'm a mini-admin, I'm running around trying to get everything in order. I did get to take a break with the paralegals and my bosses for a promotional "tasting" from the nearby Milk Street Cafe, which meant stuffing our faces. Little pinwheel sandwiches, tiny quiches, salad with maple balsamic, and a surprisingly good carrot cake were all on the house. All we had to do was listen to their friendly rep talk about the offerings for a little while, but it was so worth it.
          In the evening, we threw our 10/10 $10.10 Thanks Obama party. One person arrived, another showed up, and then 20+ people all came to the apartment in a pack. The party seemed to be a big success. Highlights: Chanting "Obama"; Amy showing up(!); Nathaniel showing up(!!!!!); finding out that Jennifer and I own the same socks; and a bunch of freshman making appearances. Sara made another beautiful cake, Iris baked banana bread/Nutella muffins, and Jules brought a huge tray of pickles. Spills were minimal, we just about made our money back, and there were no casualties (at least within the apartment.) Thanks Obama!
          Quotes of the day:
"Did you hurt yourself?" - Kathy, after the tasting
"It was a conscious decision not to wear red, white and blue. I chose to wear black and blue instead, to symbolize the bruise that Obama left on my psyche, and that of America." - Lizandro
"In Obama's America, Fox News exists. Thanks Obama." - Ryan L

Wutterfowl

          I set about 15 alarms in a row, one every consecutive minute, to force myself out of bed this morning. At work, an attorney threw shade on me because I hadn't obtained special creamer for her; this sums up my day, more or less. After work, I met Iris at the MFA stop to give her a variety of food, then proceeded to Burstein to bother Chelsea, Rachelle and Katie E. Chelsea came back to our place so I could help her with some law-oriented music industry homework, but she already had it more or less in the bag. We watched a portion of the Bruins v. Red Wings game on NESN, but the Bruins were playing with no gumption whatsoever and I was happy to switch to something else. The Rangers spoiled the Blues' home opener, 3-2, and Zuccarello fought Oshie, which was just surreal. Corey Perry scored a hat trick and the Ducks still lost to Pittsburgh; the Jets even dropped the bomb on the Coyotes, 6-2; but my favorite game of the night was the Wild's 5-0 reaming of the Avalanche. Julia came to watch more of The Sopranos while I tinkered with a new, homemade piece. We then tried to watch Codename: Kids Next Door, and as nostalgic as it was, it was not nearly gripping enough to hold our attention.
          Quotes of the day:
"Now this is nothing but evil!" - Tom, re: the candy bowl
"More chocolate... this is bad..." - Libbie, taking a piece of candy
"Bosses are always looking for a way to punk their employees." - guy behind the counter at Sebastian's
A fun little give-and-go from nhl.com...
Dude 1: "Wild dominated the game."
Dude 2: "What game?"

In a Flash

          Work was nondescript. This was followed by a serious night of TV. I put up some posters before Iris showed up with a large bowl of excellent fried rice with chicken and vegetables; properly provisioned, Nathan and Alaric joined us to watch The Flash. The romantic subplot is a little heavy-handed, but as Nathan likes to point out, it's a CW show. The guy who played Mikey Palmice in The Sopranos appears as a detective right away, which knocked my socks off (we're going on 20 years!) I'm as yet indifferent toward the guy who plays the Flash; the early depiction of what must be Professor Zoom is horrifying. Though no prior knowledge of the Flash is necessary to enjoy the show, there's a direct contrast to Gotham's subtle hints and callouts. The comics occasionally slap you in the face here; a broken-down cage with a large sign reading "GRODD" is hardly subtle.

Then again, Grodd himself is not exactly subtle.

          Though I didn't warm up to it as quickly as Gotham, The Flash definitely packed enough entertainment value to bring me back for another episode. I hope the series continues to do justice to my favorite JLA character. (Apologies; I couldn't resist.) Next up was some catch-up on The Sopranos with Julia, who's near the end of season 2, followed by the fourth-season pilot of American Horror Story. I had mixed to slightly negative feelings about the last couple of times I tried watching the show; this time, it was impressive. A ton of action was squeezed into the hour-and-a-half pilot, and before it was over, I knew I wanted to keep going with the show. I love the "creepy carnival" vibe, and the first scene every scene with the clown was hair-raising. ("Oh. He's fast. That's scary.") Throughout, we smoked hookah and speculated on what was to come next.
          Even after we were thoroughly spooked, the night was still young. While we watched the show, the Habs were busy ruining the Maple Leafs' home opener with a 4-3 comeback, and the Flyers narrowly lost to the Bruins. We switched into hockey mode as soon as American Horror Story finished, with two games yet to be decided; both had puck drop scheduled for 10 p.m. The Canucks/Flames matchup started at the characteristically late 10:15, with the former eventually winning (not that anyone cares); the Kings/Sharks revenge game was another story. The Kings' Stanley Cup banner raising and ensuing celebration ceremony weighed in at 45+ minutes, including the introduction by name of everyone down to the physical trainers. It was gloating and over the top, and everyone recoiled a bit when the mayor called Los Angeles "the greatest hockey city in the world." Absolutely not. The Sharks came out firing on all cylinders and ruined the party, 4-0, making me very content along the way. I stayed up a while longer to plan the Halloween party and got to bed at an ungodly hour.
          Quote of the day:
"I did not sign up for this." - me, re: the unexpected musical theater portion of American Horror Story

Life On Mars

          I dreamed that I was telling my grandmother I love you, I love you, I love you, and woke up in hysterics. My day at work was spent trying to get printers to work properly (why is it always printers?) and getting rid of junk from the back of the file room before they demolish half of it. Also, someone referred to our apartment as NASA -- Nathan, Alaric, Sean, Andy -- and I was delighted.

Snowblind

          I dreamed that I was on Hunter Mountain, skiing far too quickly. I was surely terrified, but a very warm feeling was coming from somewhere deep in my soul. When I woke up, my first thought was of waxing my skis. I worked from 8 to 8 at work in a tremendous file room-clearing effort, as the firm is preparing for the construction of new offices. They ordered in food for us, and I selected a large noodle dish from Wagamama that was practically two meals. We chatted over dinner before returning to the filing grind for another hour or two. Other highlights: Eating a lot of chocolate, from Ghirardelli squares to Turtles to Reese's Cups; freaking out when a key seemed to be missing and then discovering it in a box. The others graciously waited for me at home, and when I finally arrived with a new leather chair in tow, we watched the third episode of Gotham. I'm enjoying the rendition of Barbara Gordon as a smart, beautiful woman with her own intrigues, but without that hyper-naggy quality that such characters are often burdened with.

Plekanec Mode

          The men's hockey team played an exhibition game versus Acadia, a team from British Columbia. We lost 3-2 after some extremely bad officiating, including a tripping penalty on one of our players who had just gotten clotheslined by the other team. It is what it is. Hopefully when Hockey East starts up, the zebras will figure out what their job is.
          Quote of the day:
"Mechanic mode." - Alaric

Ebola

          I spent a couple of hours straightening up the apartment before I left for a board game night at Claire's place. First, I went to the liquor store and Kang's for supplies, but was locked into a phone call with my mother and consequently showed up late. I'd run into Griffin on the way and handed him my chess set; when I got there, he and Claire were in a game where he had the slight upper hand. I took her place while she made a batch of pina coladas, and I clawed back the leading edge. A few stupid moves by both of us led to an ending stalemate. Jake and Jared came as well, and I played a couple rounds of Pandemic with those two. A virus which I dubbed "Ebola" killed us within twenty minutes in the first playthrough, mainly due to bad luck with the cards. We were doing well in a second attempt, but narrowly lost after a couple of bad draws. Finally, along with Claire's roommates -- who all seem cool and down to earth, even the Devils fan -- we played a round of Taboo. Under my capable leadership, Team Y Chromosome fared pretty well.
          I met with Emily on the way home, and we came back to the apartment intending to watch a movie. My roommates' Korra watch party had ended some time before; I asked for access to the television "within the hour", but Sean was sluggish in clearing the place out. By the time people left, it was too late and we ended up just smoking hookah and listening to music with Niki, Alaric, and Nathan for a while. The two of us stayed up and talked for a while longer before crashing.
          Quotes of the day:
"I'm not paying attention to you, I'm paying attention to myself." - Emily
"I was thinking about Eric Clapton in the shower. ...But not in that way!" - Emily

Can You Dig It

          I witnessed potentially the worst Northeastern volleyball game in recent memory, a matchup with Delaware that soured faster than milk in the microwave. There were more errors on the serve than I can ever recall seeing in one game. Its only redeeming quality was the occasional play by Natalia Skiba, the Husky libero; during an incredible rally, she made three godlike digs in a row and left my jaw on the floor. Post-game, we invited a freshman named Alex to hang out at our place, but I think we scared him a bit with the hookah, etc. and he left quickly, to my dismay. Haley and Luke stayed, and we were joined by Jared and Dani (sp?) for a screening of Live Free Or Die Hard, which is best described as a Die Hard movie.

Lighter Whisperer

          Stephanie and I took the Green Line to work together, an agreeable departure from my normally solitary ride downtown. I feel like I've been tumbling all the way through this week, and that was at least refreshing. A heavy shipment of international mail that I had expected to cause me severe annoyance actually went out without incident, but I had to stay late anyway in order to finish Harold and Gerry's time entry. I left at 7, feeling wiped, and headed for Park. Against all odds, an E Line train was there when I got to the platform. A few people obstructed my path, I lanced out my arm to keep the doors from closing, and they shut when I was about two inches away. I then spent twenty minutes waiting for another train to happen by. It's interesting how the Green Line is so reliable in the morning and so, so erratic in the evening, at least as far as the E Line is concerned. When I finally got home, it was already late. I cleaned house, put up the Machete poster and a poster or two in the bathroom, and wiped down the kitchen. I scraped a bunch of stuff out from under the fridge with a long ruler: a functioning lighter(!), a few word magnets, two or three coins, five common beer bottle caps (Corona, Miller Lite, Stella, PBR, and St. Pauli Girl, as memory serves), lots of dust bunnies, and a mouse turd or two. Finding yet another lighter made up for the filthiness of the task.
          Quotes of the day:
"No judgment here." - Ashley, re: my 9 a.m. sundae
"Today, my yoga teacher played a Cracklemore song and it almost ruined my flow." - Emily

Xanadu

          Continued rain wasn't enough to dampen the mood at the office today -- Harold turned 92! It's not every day you see someone hit that milestone, and I'm certain it's very rare for them to still be part of the workforce. (I wonder what age marks the dropoff where someone isn't turning that old on any given day.) We shared a delicious and monstrously large delivery cake with "92" in those block number candles. I would have liked to see 92 actual candles on there, but my boss scrapped the idea, citing "risk of wildfire." Today was the second day this week that I felt fated to smoke; first, I was tasked with destroying "the Stoner file," involving someone of that name. Then, a guy named Grasso came to the reception desk and I didn't quite catch his name, so he replied, "Grasso, like the grass ya smoke."
          We introduced Iris to Gotham and she enjoyed it as well. In accordance with the prophecy, Stephanie arrived with a new piece, a tiny water pipe that hits like a mack truck. Alaric, Nathan and I spent the next 45 minutes or so trying to help Stephanie come up with a name for it. A partial list of suggestions: Thriller, Battle of the Bulge, Xanadu, the Eightfold Path, Shiva the Destroyer, the Maharajah, the Boxer Rebellion, Hiroshima, Lexington, Franklin Delano, Paris, Ulysses, Ripley's Believe It Or Not, P.T. Barnum, Kim Jong Thrill, Kim Jong Chill, the Magic Bullet, Poseidon. Also, we were treated to some droll hockey: the Oilers beating the Coyotes, Montreal crapping on Chicago, the Penguins blanking the Red Wings in CROSBY'S PRESEASON DEBUT (!!!!! someone out there cares!!!!1! but not me), and the Blue Jackets continuing to wreck the preseason with a 6-3 win over the Hurricanes. Even after all this, my personal favorite for the night was Buffalo's 6-1 bitchslap of the Capitals. The Sabres are due to be decent any year now...
          Quotes of the day:
"Hit me up on Friday or Saturday and I'll go on a bong voyage." - Alaric
...
Stephanie: "Explorica."
Nathan: "Billerica."
Me: "Bill$rica."
Alaric: "Bill$richa."