Ghost Peppas

          I went to Rod Dee 2 with Steph and ordered the drunken noodles, an ill-advised decision to say the least. In short: they dropped me on my ass. I was crying and wiping my nose over and over again within moments of digging in. I attempted to struggle through the dish anyway (the noodles were tasty during rare moments when the spice subsided) and incurred further pain for my efforts. Buyer beware!

Family Affair

          My mother and brothers came out to see me today. After the obligatory stop at Tasty Burger, we hung out and chatted until I started to drift off. They left with a large box of stuff I chose to send home. Later, I drank brewskis with Iris, Becky and Alaric.

Rendering

          The Thanksgiving mess in the kitchen escalated to a formidable level, and I slunk around it for most of the day. Occasionally I would rumble in like a caveman hunting for food, rip off a strip of the ham, and withdraw again into "digestion only" mode. I did manage to get some cleaning and organization in before my folks visit tomorrow.

Friendsgiving

          I spent a peaceful, joyful Thanksgiving with Alaric, his friend Stefanos, Iris, and Regina. We cobbled this group out of the leftovers in Boston, cooked a massive amount of food, and shared a jolly evening of football (go Eagles?) and other activities. Stefanos and I played a tight game of chess; following dumb mistakes by both of us, I squeaked out a narrow victory. It was fascinating spending a holiday so through-and-through American with a Greek and a Mexican; happily, food is a universal language. I was worried because we didn't all know each other, but the conversation flowed as freely and easily as the billows of hookah smoke. Stefanos provided an intriguing Greek liquor called ouzo while we ate ourselves into a coma. It's hard to top my Thanksgiving with Iris last year, but this one was really excellent.
          Quote of the day:
"They're #losing the American Revolution." - Alaric

Through Thick and Thin

          I had my balls busted repeatedly at work regarding my daily bank trip, and escaped to run someone else's errand. The weather being how it is, I was quickly miserable and soaked and battered by hail, but I managed to keep the papers dry long enough to get them where they needed to be. I returned to work, where the shit rolled downhill again -- this time about an unmanned reception desk -- and things continued like that. People made my life difficult. I fought the weather all day. You just can't catch a break sometimes.

Cat Rats

          During work, I had to go to the offices of the Secretary of State and found myself in a labyrinthine building full of grey-faced people. There are posted signs detailing policy changes from 2004; two sets of elevators went to two different places, and everyone I crossed paths with gave me a nervous look. After I got home, Alaric and I went to LJL's for wings and Sweeney Todd. Post-movie, the two of us went to the Fens, climbed a tree and smoked. We stopped at home for more supplies, then returned to my accustomed spot behind the track to continue, and played a game wherein we try and make each other laugh. (It's typically the would-be comedian that busts out laughing before the guy who's otherwise occupied.) Finally, we sat on a concrete pile and watched traffic go by for a while. I watched a streetlight that occasionally blinked on and off. Everything was peaceful for a time. We started to hear a persistent rustling noise in the woods and came to realize that we were being stalked by some sort of rat or other small mammal. I leaped up and growled at it at one point, but this brought only a temporary reprieve. When we left, the cat rat could be heard rustling alongside in the trees by the water. At home, we settled in with ice cream and The Flash.

Undergrowth

          I slogged through biting wind and rain to the MFA stop and cowered under the shelter there. I then discovered the poor design of said structure, with no protection against the wind and a gap in the roof that effectuates soaked benches. This shelter provides zero protection against rain when there is any wind whatsoever. I eventually gave up trying to stay dry, sat down and tried to ignore the intermittent sprays of icy water to the neck. The nastiness continued throughout the day; even after the rain dried up, a stifling mugginess descended with the sole purpose of making everyone feel horrid. I was later buffeted by unusually powerful winds while trying to stuff a mailbox, which is as fun as it sounds. Note: I'm consistently sent to the bank that's farther away on days with terrible weather.
          At some point in the day, I was seized by an urge to stop by Sugar Daddy's. Iris agreed to meet me, and we combined to purchase incense, hemp rope, screens, papers, and most importantly, a pipe for her. After much hemming and hawing, she selected a vaguely lightning bolt-shaped piece in a deep, mottled green. This is a beautiful piece of work. We went home to give it a go, and Johnny and Alaric joined us for testing. Nathan and Sean stood by as well. We watched some hockey and caught up on Gotham, after which Johnny and I headed over to the Fens to smoke and chat for a while behind the track. I went home and fell asleep directly.

Blood From the Eyes

          I did not do much today. Emily and I enjoyed pizza and watched Winnipeg lose 4-2 to the Blues. I went to sleep for a while and woke to find that the Rangers defeated the Habs in a 5-0 shellacking, which made my night. Later, I went for a run and continued to watch Arrow. Sebastian Blood, the creepily patriotic alderman, has been my favorite character since his introduction (closely seconded by Det. Lance) and he has only gotten better. Meanwhile, the Mirakuru superdrug storyline continues to horrify; no word from the MLB banned substances team as of yet.

War of the Roses

          I slept until 4 pm, then went into rush mode on the party playlist for Malcolm. Once I'd made snap decisions on most of the remaining material, I packed up my stuff and headed to Willis. Malcolm's external HD transferred over a day's worth of music in under a minute - marvels of technology taken for granted. Alaric and I met up and walked up to Allie, Lena and Lauren C's place on Hillside for Harrison's surprise welcome-back party. He's been in Peru for a semester and was dearly missed. Even though the surprise guests were not sneaky in the slightest, Harrison was blown away (he was expecting maybe 5 or 6 people) and said he felt weak in the knees. A live band called Tommy & the Dreams came and jammed for our enjoyment. Highlights: Smoking with the band (baby's first dab!); chatting with some dude about the Civil War and the Scouts; narrowly avoiding a senseless fight with that same guy; finding out Carisa is an honest-to-god real life Sharks fan; smoking with Carisa and Lena; finally burying the hatchet and becoming friends with Rose; the sangria/apple juice/apple slice bowl of deliciousness; Jeremiah Weed str8 out the bottle; three godly pies that were somehow largely untouched; Jacq going off; Jacq's younger sister going off; Harrison's little brother going off; discussing otherworldly experiences with Eliot and Eric; just sitting in a circle in the alley outside. I took a long trek back in the cold to meet with Emily at home.
          Quote of the day:
"We don't talk about Marleau." - Carisa

Johnny Stompanato

          I got up on time and in an energetic mood, and was raring to work when I arrived at the office. Many tasks fell before my supercharged drive to git 'r done, but the most memorable thing about my shift was getting shocked with static electricity at least thrice an hour, all day. Other highlights: Smelling beer from down the hall as Bob threw a pre-Harvard/Yale football game tailgater in the office (yes, the game is tomorrow... not sure I understand...); staying late to extend my berserker work frenzy (berwerker?) I actually enjoy sticking around on Friday evenings. There's no pressure, most people are long gone, and you can work at your own pace and feel like things are wrapped up.
          In the evening, I went to Claire's for another board game night! I played Jake S in a closely fought chess match; I gained the advantage but the game ended in a draw after I failed to pin down his king. A quick break for an alcohol run resulted in four significant acquisitions: Jeremiah Weed-branded Fireball-type stuff (but better!) in a sweet bottle; a $20 handle of surprisingly smooth "Poland Select" vodka; a bottle of Coke Life, just for giggles; and a couple bags of free peanuts from the guy at the counter. We drank, worked with coloring books and magnetized the results to Claire's fridge, and finally transitioned into rasslin'. Alaric, Malcolm and I took turns cycling in; the matchups are roughly even, except I seem to have Malcolm's number for some reason. Further brawls will test my theory. Alaric and I returned home to listen to music, talk, and smoke more than I have in some time.
          Quotes of the day:
"Love that beard!" - Howard
"Last time I had lunch with you, you went to sleep." - Eric
"You cut a dashing figure." - Chris C
"Oh Father, thank you for this providence of wooder, Father Hartnell!" - Alaric

Power of Attorney

          I made an oops this morning and used my last half-sick-day to sleep in. When I did get to work, I dove in and busted my ass for a few hours. After work, I finally went out for drinks with some of the paralegals. We went to a bar called Warehouse. This joint is bustling, modern, popular for aprés-travail drinks, and the cocktails are all named after Dave Matthews songs. (Note: "Warehouse".) I had a Narragansett/Aristocrat coffee-milk stout and a G&T, we chatted about all manner of topics, exchanged snapchat names, and bonding was accomplished. Apparently I'm seen in a decent light work ethic-wise, which is nice to hear. Post-bar, we trekked to a Walgreens to get ice cream and other snacks. When I got home, Nathan gave me considerable assistance with the party playlist and I spectated as he explored the newest installment of Super Smash Bros.
          Quote of the day:
"This burrito isn't Mr. Right, but it's Mr. Right Now." - Kara, re: a wrap
...
[redacted]: "Have I told you about the time I did mushrooms?"
Client: "This is my lawyer!"

WHO YA GONNA CALL

           GOALBUSTERS!
          Ariel met me at Symphony to share dinner and catch up, and we traded stories and gossip. Next was a trip to the liquor store, where we mulled over various beers before settling on the tried 'n true Traveler pumpkin shandy and UFO's Gingerland, a pleasantly bready, lightly spiced brew. A meeting of the joint chiefs of staff segued into the Rangers vs. Flyers game; New York shut Philly out 2-0 in a rough and tumble contest. Talbot came up with some impressive saves and Optimus Klein lit it up for an improbable 4th time this season. To the Flyers' credit, goaltender Mason played out of his mind, Simmonds made a couple of nutty breakaways, and Claude Giroux had a sneaky play or two; unfortunately for Philadelphia, their defense corps is just too shitty to live. I stayed up late and continued to work on the party playlist for Malcolm. (This marks the sixth major revision thus far!)

          Quote of the day:
"They're like license plates for all the places our livers have been." - Nathan

Show Me Ya Moves (Super Smashville Bros.)

          Another day of work passed quietly. Alaric, Nathan and I played host to Andrew V, Emily, Iris, Jules, Lindsay, Jane and Lauren for an evening of hockey-watching, beer and conversation. Eleven games were scheduled for the evening, so we expected some magic to happen in at least a couple of them. And what blows were there given! The shit-tier Sabres beat the Sharks again -- I think this is eight consecutive times now -- with 4 goals to 1. The Devils lost 3-1, which should brighten everyone's day; Johnny Gaudreau scored in the Flames' shootout win over the Ducks; and the Red Wings severely whupped the Blue Jackets, 5-0. Ariel and Chelsea were unable to make it to our place because they were at TD Garden, watching the Bruins shut out the Blues, 2-0. The indisputable jewel of the night -- maybe of the season -- was the Predators' 9-2 annihilation of the Maple Leafs in their own building. I almost voided my bowels when Nashville was up 8 points to jack shit, and the end result was negligibly less satisfying. Any lingering sadness over the loss to Tampa Bay was wiped away. Later: The Sopranos, wine and reefer madness.
          Quote of the day:
"There was a mad Republican and I missed it?! That's my favorite!" - Jane

Bolt From the Blue Line

          Despite an umbrella and raincoat combo, my feet were thoroughly soaked within two minutes of leaving the apartment. After a day of work largely spent becoming less moist, I went home to meet Anne-Marie and watch the only hockey game of the evening: Lightning vs. Rangers. Before long, New York was down 2-0 and I called the final score at 5-1. Ryan Callahan ended up scoring on us twice, a goal by Brian Boyle was narrowly averted, and Marty St. Louis got the only Ranger goal -- I sense bad blood starting to trickle between NYC and Tampa Bay. I was ultimately proven right: a 5-1 ass-kicking. Iris arrived with amazing chicken pot pies to stuff us and displace the sour taste in my mouth. The combination of gravy, work fatigue, and sports-related sadness meant I was dead asleep by 10:30. (Just like after that loss to JMU the other year...)
          Quote of the day:
"I don't wanna be famous! I want my win!" - Jeff

Start the Buses

          With some help, I clambered out of bed for the men's basketball season opener at TD Garden. As always, we would start with a game against the hated Boston University. The game was characterized by long, messy streaks where no one seemed capable of scoring, as well as numerous 3-pointers by a revitalized Walker. At the halfway mark, we were down by several points. The band and dance team went out on the floor to dance to "Thriller", and though I would have liked a practice run-through to refresh my memory, it was far from disastrous. The crowd seemed into it, and the rest of the music played by us and by the BU pep band was tight. We even outnumbered them at this game. The second half gave us a hair-raising game of catch-up, a ten-point comeback, and finally Northeastern came out on top: 71-65! Of course we were hyped to the max, and I proudly won a bet with Matt T, who had claimed that our basketball team was going to win before our hockey team could. He owes me a beer, but who can complain when we've trashed BU in 3 out of 4 sports this week? Other highlights: "Centerfold"; my prophecy that the other team would commit an offensive foul on the next play; howling at foul shooters.
          An XBOX HUEG group of people returned to Stetty East for victory dinner, where I bulked up on peaches and cherry tomatoes. Shay G and I are on uncertain ground again, and I still can't fathom why our friendship is so strange. I took a few minutes to watch The Simpsons on the TV before returning home for hockey, etc. with Iris, Alaric and Nathan. The craptacular Panthers found a way to crush the Ducks, 6-2 -- must be a feline/fowl thing. Most of the other games were nondescript (San Jose vs. Carolina, 2-0) or disappointing (Chicago vs. Dallas, 6-2.)

Though All Men Do Despise Us

          THE NORTHEASTERN MEN'S HOCKEY TEAM WON A GAME! The score was an unconvincing 2-1, and we turtled against the boards for a solid minute at the end, and we were up against Hockey East's second-worst (now rock-bottom) team, but we beat someone! The Huskies' record is now 1-8-1, and this poopsicle of a season can only improve. Highlights: Jules throwing a chocolate chip pancake on the ice during chuck-a-puck; standing right in front of JL and trying to mask the fragrance of alcohol; winning the game; free hand towels! I don't know if I've flipped out that hard since the Rangers beat the Penguins this spring -- jumping up and down, dropping my stuff, screaming my lungs out. And however improbably, we're now above UNH in the standings!
          Did I mention this was the alumni game? After WE WON, numerous of us flocked to Punter's for brewskis. I parked it at a table with Jules, Nathan, Matt T, Starkey (+ companion), Tim, and eventually Ariel and Iris. Other alumni were scattered at a couple of other tables, joined by Anne-Marie, but I didn't stray over there. Punter's is my least favorite bar -- it reeks of piss, its sound system is limited to bass notes, and the place is somehow cash only. Still, it was a blast catching up with folks and murdering pitchers of beer. Once some time had passed, I excused myself to meet Johnny, Tom, Alaric, Nathan, and Jules at our place. All of us except Nathan smoked, and he was quite drunk himself (though I was inattentive to this fact.) We tried to order pizza, changed our selection at least twice, and Nathan orchestrated the whole thing. When it arrived and he went down to collect, I got a call: "Can you guys bring some more money down?" Our cart had not cleared, and instead of the expected two pizzas, we were granted four pizzas and two boxes of cheese bread. This was the best worst thing ever to happen, or perhaps the worst best. Lesson learned: Don't let the drunk guy work the online ordering system without proper supervision.
          Quotes of the day:
"I don't think operating construction machinery while naked is a good idea." - Emily
"That's my niece. Yeah, I gotta be careful on Tinder, people think she's my kid..." - Tim
...
Emily: "Keep my mom out of this."
Sean: "The hard part is keeping me out of your mom."

Barry Bonds

          My hair was Alfalfa-status this morning. I worked very hard and the day went by quickly. Everyone seemed checked out by 4:00, sitting around and chatting. I went home and immediately began to prep for Nathan's birthday party; everyone pitched in then or at various earlier points to get the apartment clean and ready to go. Prior to the planned start time, I ventured across the Fens to meet my guy, and he kept me waiting for about ten minutes in the cold (again!) Regardless, we arrived at excellent terms for a large quantity of bible worksheets; this was well worth the awkward back-and-forth stroll behind the MFA, and as a bonus, was not at the back of Mission Hill. Another plus is that this guy is quite friendly when he does show up, and we talked a bit about hockey since I was wearing my Northeastern jersey. He's from Panthers territory, and I would probably be making fun of them if they weren't all-stars compared to NU right now.
          Once the party started, I broke from my usual routine and stayed in the kitchen to monitor the alcohol. I ran the drink dispensing and money collecting rackets for most of the evening, making conversation where possible but often having to move people along to make room. Nathan was quite drunk and seemed to be enjoying himself, so I turned my attention elsewhere. The best parts of my night were spent with Matt T, Emily, Jules, and a perfectly blitzed Erika. (The last of whom we continually threatened to rat out for drinking on the pep band listserv, or better, in a private email to JL.) As per usual, I was drunk also, but again failed to get as hammered as intended.
          Quotes of the day:
"I'm an engineer!" - Erika
"Okay, you're a civil engineer, so let's not be throwing around the e-word just yet." - Matt T
"With steel-toed boots, anything and everything does happen. Except for toe injuries." - Matt T
"I should draw you like one of my French girls." - Adam

Shootout At the MN Corral

          I woke up t- holy shit I fell asleep in a chair with no alarm. Somehow my body was able to do me a solid and wake me up on time. I jammed to the Crash Test Dummies' "Ghosts That Haunt Me" on the T, and only in retrospect did I realize I was still a bit drunk. The epiphany came about an hour later, when the hangover hit me like a dump truck full of gin and tonic. I fought off the urge to vomit for a couple of hours and cheered myself up by reading about how the courts shot down Kansas' attempt to block gay marriage. As for the Supreme Court's inevitable decision, the writing is on the wall: certainly within the next three years, but probably within twelve months, marriage equality will be real in all fifty states.
          For those less versed in the legal side: The courts have long maintained that marriage is a citizen's right based on the 1st Amendment right to free association. Ergo, since marriage is a right, the government must have a compelling interest in order to regulate it, and must pass strict scrutiny before it even attempts to do so. Since religious beliefs are not a valid argument in a secular court, and because no study has ever proven that children raised in LGBT families come out shattered, no such interest exists. Therefore, marriage as it exists now is a right unduly withheld from a portion of the American people, as per the 14th Amendment's guarantee of equal protection under the law. This reasoning is not only crystal clear, it also blocks moronic slippery slope arguments. No 14th Amendment violation exists when everyone is forbidden from marrying animals, and there's a compelling interest against broken families, psychological abuse and genetic weakness when it comes to incest. Polyamory is more slippery, but the main argument against it is that multiple marriages typically mean one man and a bunch of women who are nothing but "brood mares." ~50 federal judges have stricken down bans on gay marriage, and the Supreme Court's silence is deafening. They've had many chances to weigh in but have abstained; at this point, a reversal of that massive retinue of judges would send the message that the federal court system has no idea what it's doing, an irreparable blemish on its credibility. With the ultra-conservative Sixth Circuit's recent, contrarian opinion, SC(R)OTUS has no choice but to wade in. In it to win it!
          Of course, once my headache had quieted to a dull throb, I got sleepy. The end of my shift could not come fast enough. At home, I did my laundry and some communal washables with the considerable assistance of Alaric and Iris before settling in for hockey. The Stars dunked on the Kings 2-0, but the real highlight was the Minnesota v. Buffalo game. I love both these teams, and got a wonderful surprise when the game turned into a shooting gallery. The Wild scored two goals 7 seconds apart -- they only made it to the third word in the first announcement before Niederreiter scored the opener of an eventual hat trick -- and Buffalo counter-punched ten seconds later, a total of three goals in 17 seconds. Minnesota won 6-3 in an outstanding effort, but there was no lack of effort by the Sabres.
          Quote of the day:
"I can never tell, you're always so perky." - Meryl

"What was it about those ducks?"

          Running on just a bit of sleep, I had a nondescript day at work and enjoyed a full plate of free food along the way. Hard-boiled eggs? Grapes? Cheese on crackers? What is this place, a buffet in disguise? When I got out, I went directly to Cabot for the women's volleyball game against first-seed College of Charleston. We took the first match narrowly; the second ended on a lame note; it was game point for CoC, we won the rally, and we were preparing to serve when the a ref made a late call on the play and awarded CoC the match. That pretty much killed the energy in the room, and the Huskies lost the next two in close decisions. The saga continued with Shay G (as she will henceforth be known.) Tonight I got the better side of our Two-Face-esque friendship, including pleasant conversation and even an amiable arm-scratch. I don't even understand. After the game, nearly all of the rest of the band showed up for a rehearsal of our Thriller dance, set to be performed on the floor at TD Garden this Sunday. JL came more prepared this time, giving us sheet music with dance moves included instead of a backward video, and it went far better than I expected.
          I was exhausted by the end of rehearsal, but the night still had some work in store. Alaric and I went home to change, unwind and take a few shots while Nathan headed straight to Our House East to start his birthday bar crawl. We met him at Conor's soon thereafter, along with Jules, Anne-Marie, Iris, Johnny and Regina. There, Anne-Marie took her first shot ever and I played pool with Johnny against Alaric and Iris. I killed us by sinking the 8-ball early and wisely tapped out. I took a seat at the bar with Anne-Marie, where we watched the Ducks play the Kings and chatted about goings-on. Finally, some of us went to Tasty Burger for burgers and beer. Highlights: finding out that Jules is a vegan inside a burger joint; Alaric discreetly dropping a visual burp or two in the restroom; Alaric leaving his hat behind and a kind employee running across the street to return it; me stumbling straight into the door when we got home. Also, the Ducks won 6-5 in the shootout after trailing twice, true justice at last.
          Quote of the day:
"Wacky Wednesdayyyy!" - Alaric

We're On a Mission From God

          11:11 on November 11 is a special time, though I wouldn't have gathered this from how my day started out. I was already running late but had a small window of opportunity to get to work on time. I waited longer than usual for the T, later understanding this was because of Veteran's Day -- I'll come back to that -- and when it finally arrived, I realized that I didn't have my wallet. I hoofed it home, sprinted back, and waited several more minutes for the next train. The upside of mornings like this is that the day can only get better.
          I got to work to find that everyone was in a meeting, mercifully allowing me to slip into the routine as usual. When it let out, I was showered with free food. Walter's condition has miraculously improved and he is recovering at home. I even stumbled across the wiki page for man caves. All in all, good stuff. As for the holiday: I understand not taking Columbus Day off, because it's a gratuitous holiday celebrating an all-around dick and arguable mass murderer; keeping the office open on Veteran's Day when you're working with people who lived through WW2 is a little different. I suppose I can't complain about making money.
          I headed straight to Curry from work for the Youngblood Brass Band clinic. We barely sold any tickets, so the money is coming out of the band's pocket, but I think it was worth it. These guys are the real deal: insanely skilled, super-funky, and cognizant of the historical roots of their music. The band had two normal drummers, a snare player, two trombonists, a very unorthodox sousaphonist, two saxophonists, and one trumpet (the other was missing.) Every single one made me embarrassed to hold or even be near an instrument. The frontman talked about the evolution of Nawlins music and how YBBB's interpretation fits into that picture, and in between these interludes they made sweet, sweet music. A small contingent of the pep band gave a great performance as well; at the end, numerous of us joined the band on stage for another, essentially impromptu song. As a bonus, we picked up a poster for the apartment at a dirt-cheap $4.
          Emily, Alaric, Nathan and I obtained Tasty Burger and brought it home, where I finished Wanted. Not a fantastic movie, for sure, but not unworth watching. It's a tad difficult to believe how quickly the protagonist transforms from "working stiff/loser" to "hard as nails badass," and the conclusion of the destined-target plot arc was wrapped up a little too neatly. The last three seconds are easily the worst part, though. (BEGIN SPOILER) Scene: Main character looks away from rifle scope and into camera: "What have you done lately?" (END SPOILER) The best parts of the film are the things that happen offscreen: What's the deal with the tapestry of fate/kill list? Is everyone crazy, or what? Exactly what happened to make Cross leave the Fraternity? Who was Mr. X? How many people know how to curve bullets? Why are we forced not to care about trainloads of faceless civilian casualties? Is this one of those movies where the bad guys really won in the end?
          We put hockey on after the credits rolled, just in time to see the Stars' Garbutt scoop up a shorthanded, game-winning goal versus the Coyotes. Eventually, we transitioned to a boxing match between Bernard "The Alien" Hopkins and Sergey "Krusher" Kovalev. It was still early in the fight, third round at the latest, and we watched it to the end. Kovalev had the better of the older but legendary Hopkins, keeping him on the ropes for much of the fight, and landed some punches that would have left most people drooling on the floor. I read up a bit on the boxers afterward, and extend props to the Alien for his 12th-round adamantium chin and grit in the face of a younger, stronger, guileful competitor. Piqued, we hunted for MMA after this, but could find no channels that weren't payextra2watch, Instead, we put on The Matrix and enjoyed some new beers (the peppily carbonated, bitter but light Perpetual IPA for me!)

          Quotes of the day:
"Get them out of here! I only eat carbs!" - Kara
"Balling on a Budget. That's the new book I'm gonna write on personal finance." - Ryan L

"No one wants to know how much you practice, they just want you to make them feel something." - David, YBBB snare drummer

"You're making a statement here. And your statement is, 'Look how badass I am.'" - Nat, YBBB sousaphonist

BEEZ NUTZ

          A crazy, ten-hour-long series of interviews for new attorneys meant that I was freed from reception for nearly the entire day, and both Harold and Walter were out today. I capitalized to get a pile of work done; excavating boxes in the basement can be time-consuming, assuming they're to be found at all. Contractors were swarming about the office all day, installing new, energy-efficient lighting that's brighter and whiter but creates a hospital-like atmosphere in sparsely decorated rooms. I left work as soon as possible to meet Iris at TD Garden, where we waited outside until a small flock of Northeastern students showed up with the discounted tickets.
          We were split up into a few groups and parted ways with Sara and Elizabeth. Iris and I climbed up to the nosebleed section (ahem, Premium section) where I ended up immediately next to another Northeastern student - wearing a Devils Winter Classic jersey. This would be my first NHL game and I was seated next to a fan of the franchise I most despise. The view from up top was beautiful and we had lots of room to walk around; the worst thing was a comparative lack of crowd noise. The Devils scored about a minute and a half in, forcing me to endure the wretched existence of the guy next to me. The Chara-less Bruins were nonetheless able to tie the game up on the power play, and Bergeron struck again before the first period was over, putting the crowd in a more jovial mood. The obscenely ancient Jagr managed to even the score again at the beginning of the second, but the best was still to come. Seth Griffith, physically hounded by two defenders, somehow spun around and shot the puck between his own legs and went five-hole on Schneider. The goal put the Bruins up 3-2, but I think its most powerful effect was to shatter the Devils' confidence. A fourth goal a minute later sank the final nail; New Jersey looked lost on the ice. They made a big effort later in the third period, but I could feel it was already over. Boston took the game 4-2, and all was right with the world.
          We decided to skip the mob in North Station and instead walked to Park, where we caught the D line to Fenway.  I was seeing yellow for the entire journey, both in the "Bruins victory afterglow" sense and also "why did I drink a beer and forget to hit the restroom?" A pit stop shortly after we disembarked fixed that problem, and we moved to the next one: a five-dollar hot dog was clearly not enough to sate my hunger. On impulse, we decided to go to Burger King, where Iris has somehow never ordered anything but a doubtlessly mediocre chicken sandwich. I stuffed my face and went home to pass out.
          Quote of the day:
Iris: "What are you looking for?"
Me: "A Devils fan to pour this on."

The Court of Miracles

          I don't want to finish this entry with hockey (it felt too incongruous) so I'll start with that. The Rangers dropped another "gimme" two points against the "lowly Oilers", as the Metro referred to them; formidable Pittsburgh is next in line to beat us up. This team gives me ulcers, the way it collapses against bad teams and then puts in stellar work when I'm not expecting it. In fact, all five games tonight held defeat for my favored teams. Lucky that I was distracted this evening and didn't have time to chew on the losses. Now, back to our regularly scheduled programming.
          I had two emotional dreams, one after the other. In the first, I was in a semi-basement/garage with Stephanie, Alaric, Julia, and twenty or thirty other friends, and each of us was carrying some form of party contraband -- liquor, paraphernalia, cups, snacks, and what have you. This place was on the edge of the woods, and apparently the plan was to trek farther in for a big party behind another, more secluded house. We exited through a back door and encountered two police officers nonchalantly leaning against a patrol car. I hissed at my companions to hide all the stuff, and they did so. We acted naturally and continued to follow the trail into the woods. The cops seemed suspicious, and one kept shining his flashlight down the trail ahead of us, but they did not follow. Relieved, we reached a clearing and slipped around behind the dark, empty house in the middle of it. We had previously set up a bonfire pit and a large carport-type awning here; when the full group reached the site, everyone stopped. The fire smoldered weakly. Six police officers were waiting under the awning. One addressed us through a megaphone: "We've been watching you for 15 months. You are under arrest for possession of and intent to distribute narcotics." Silence. Stephanie and I looked at each other with a mixture of rage and abject terror. My head was spinning.
          The second dream was shorter. Alanna was home from her co-op in California and I gave her the biggest, warmest hug of my life. Julia was with us, and everyone was beaming. A radiant light bathed the air around the three of us. If I died then and there, I would have been happy.
          As it turned out, I didn't die. I woke up early, went into the living room and chatted with Jules for a while, idly catching up on Arrow and The Sopranos. Later, Iris and Michelle came over to smoke and watch Wanted; the action was promising up to a point, but I was unable to finish the movie due to a prior engagement with Julia. We met up and rode the Green Line into Allston, settled in with whiskey and cokes, and caught up on American Horror Story. I'm still somewhat ambivalent about the show, but the last few twists have kept me on my toes. Aside: Julia mistook Tuukka Rask for Leo DiCaprio on the cover of The Improper Bostonian. We were kept company by Jennifer and Scout, an itty-bitty kitten that immediately fell in love with me and did his best to stay curled up on my chest or under my leg. He also smelled like a farm, so the girls bathed him and left him looking far less dignified than before. It was sweet to catch up with these two and spend some time actually interacting. Fool that I am, I forgot that the trains stop earlier on Sunday. I walked home from Allston at 1 a.m., chilled to the bone and mildly drunk, but the walk was peaceful and helped to clear my mind.
          Quotes of the day:
"I'm the alpha male, and I'm a beta kappa papa." - Sean
"You look like Chinese royalty." - Alaric
"I can burn calories by fucking strangling you!" - Iris
"You misunderstood. I didn't mean poop, I meant snail poop!" - Iris
"H-o-t-w-i-r-e! Hotwire.com!" - Iris

"And when you wake up, everything is gonna be fine..."

          I woke up around noon, cleaned up and went over to Iris's for brunch. Most of the food had been ravaged by the time I arrived, but I did scrape up some quality bacon 'n eggs, a piece of French toast, and orange juice. This group of food moochers was much smaller than last time and far more pleasant. I mostly talked to Matt T about the Bruins' prospects, and Phil, Cristina, and Malcolm were also present, among others. After a few hours of relaxation, we were off to the men's hockey game versus UMass Lowell.
          Northeastern's record this year is 0-7-1, and the lone tie was against Lowell on the road last night. The River Hawks were Hockey East champs last year, so I went in with the assumption that we would probably lose, with the knowledge that the Doghouse will probably empty out for the rest of the season if that happened. It was bloody. Lowell blanked us 5-0, capitalizing on numerous breakaways and turnovers. The Huskies got some good offensive looks, even a penalty shot, but never found the back of the net. Even Anne-Marie agreed that we needed to go to the bar afterward.
          Once I'd picked up a Gobbler (and drunkenly eaten half of it on the way home), Anne-Marie, Sean, Alaric, Jules and I went to Thornton's, the bar & grill on the El Pelon strip. We were served by a remarkably scatterbrained waitress. She seemed to mess something up or say something awkward at every opportunity, but she was able to provide us with heavy cheese fries, nachos and alcohol to subdue the hockey agony, and this was enough. Jules returned with Alaric and I to dish about band drama, smoke hookah and watch television.
          Quote of the day:
"Low, lower, lowest, Lowell, BU." - Matt T
"He would play songs rather than talk about his feelings." - Jules

. . . . .

"I guarantee that you wake up in a better place, and in a better time."

Kolar Brothers

          Somehow, I'm more productive when my boss is on vacation. I got a significant amount of work done and was rewarded with one of the Polish donuts a client brought in today. In the evening, we hosted a small gathering at the apartment -- Marcie came over from Suffolk, as well as Jared, Malcolm, and Julia -- but everyone was more tired than they realized and things were quiet. I fell asleep early, quite exhausted from the week.
          Quotes of the day:
"The entire [redacted] line is right here. In my nutsack." - Nathan
"Use a menorah to light 9 bongs at once." - Alaric
"Sunflower seeds. That's a good healthy snack." - Julia, turning into a commercial

The Cantpux

          I was once again put on creamer patrol and took the Red Line to Whole Foods, walking the rest of the way in a light rain. It was actually a peaceful jaunt, and I got back to the office raring to work. (Despite wet socks.) Somehow, that wore off before lunchtime and was replaced with a creeping, shell-shocked mental fatigue. Little things started to go wrong: I wasn't confident in my work, my friendship with Becky is on the rocks, I thought Emily was angry at me, and my coworkers seemed to forget that we had plans for the evening. (Granted, everyone was tired and the weather was dreadful.) Feeling worn down and raw, I decided to stay late and make some overtime; for half an hour, I distributed lawyer's diaries and new calendars to empty offices, and at the end my mood was slightly improved. Once home, I pleaded with Alaric and Nathan for help cheering up. We watched The Sopranos and Arrow with effective Bada Bing action, and it was good.
          Quotes of the day:
"His ass was the MVP." - Emily, re: Rick Nash

Is it just me...

...or do these guys...

...remind you of anyone?

#DEDWINGS

          After work, I met Emily for dinner at Rod Dee 2 and enjoyed a commendable serving of Pad Thai with chicken and shrimp. We proceeded back to Mission Control for a bit of the Sabres v. Habs game before switching to Rangers v. Red Wings. Alaric arrived, Sean dropped in, we became steadily more drunk on wine, and shirts were discarded for No T OT. The game was a rough and tumble back and forth the whole time, including impressive goals by St, Louis, Stempniak, and Detroit's Kindl and Cleary. Tatar's goal to tie it up with only 7 seconds left was a heartbreaker, but Brassard's quick attack in overtime made it worth the stress. Highlight: Rick Nash's butt-deflect goal. Anti-highlight: Gustavsson giving up the GWG and dislocating his shoulder in the same play.
          Anyway, we won!!! We were messy by this point, and chose to put on Mike Tyson Mysteries, the new Adult Swim riff on Scooby-Doo. It was perfect. We also realized that the cooler is still full of water and apples from Halloween, and we should probably drain it out in the next couple of days.
          Quotes of the day:
"Don't be infecting all of us, typhoid girl." - Dru, to Catherine
"Nothing is ever safe from [Emily]. Keep that in mind." - Emily
"One, we scored. Two, we scored on the power play, and three, we won in overtime. All unusual for the Rangers." - me

Commit Sudoku (This Man Shame Family)

          There was no new episode of The Flash today, on account of Election Day. Once again, I utterly failed as a citizen and forgot to apply for an absentee ballot ahead of time; I think I'm going to re-register in Massachusetts for the next election. Instead, the evening was a whirl of The Sopranos, hockey, and Tupac's All Eyez On Me, my new favorite album. I invited a willing Anne-Marie over for the Habs/Hawks game, but she couldn't come due to practice. This was for the best, because the Blackhawks swooped in for a 5-0 crusher and we probably would have crushed all the remaining gin. And after all this time, Iris finally learned the true meaning of "herbaceous", and was soon fast asleep. In a move incomprehensible even to myself, I decided that midnight was a late hour and went right to bed.
          Quotes of the day:
"Toasty toasty!" - Iris, ad nauseam

...

Iris: "My head feels very 'in.'"
Me: "In what?"

Iris: "I don't know."

Vlad the Impaler

          After a lull of a couple months, we finally had another attorney-paralegal lunch. Shaela dished about her roller coaster of a career (including narrowly avoiding problems with the mob!) and alluded to office drama while we shared Italian sandwiches. After work, we watched the Blues v. Rangers game, in which we lacked 4 of 6 top defensemen and our top-line center as well, and were narrowly defeated in the shootout by a red-hot Vladimir Tarasenko. Frankly, I was surprised we put up a serious fight at all, and I'm happy with the single point. We then watched the new episode of Gotham, a terrific installment that could have been called The Penguin Show for all its tasty treachery and dirty dealings. Also, a fine interpretation of Zsasz! We followed this with an episode of The Sopranos, buit I succumbed to sleep before I could finish it.
          Quotes of the day:
"I went on a career reshaping jihad." - Shaela
"Make mistakes. You can figure it out. You can always change." - Shaela
"So many pedestrians, so little time." - Chris C

Love On Layaway

          Alaric, Nathan, Sean, Emily and I lounged for hours in the living room, a wet and freezing snow falling outside - the first of the year. We turned up the radiator, drank coffee -- plus hot chocolate, in my case -- and listened to Christmas music. It felt like the holidays. (Disclaimer: I loathe nearly all holiday music during Christmastime, but I do enjoy it at other times of year.) We then watched an episode of The Sopranos, followed by catch-up on Gotham, and finally the Ducks vs. Avalanche game, in which Anaheim held on for a 3-2 win.

          Quotes of the day:

"Dirty Christmas jazz." - Nathan

"My chest hair looks like a mushroom cloud in this picture." - me

"Kushville." - Alaric, re: Nashville

Beyond the Wall

          All I'm saying is that Coldhands would be a sick band name. I also forgot to mention that last night, I purchased a Clamato + Budweiser concoction on a whim; that's basically a savory, spicy, alcoholic V8, and ~4 out of 12 daring testers liked it. After everyone watched TV and digested last night's action, we gathered all the wounded warriors (there were 10+), took a knee, and knocked them back. The others left for Jared's straightaway, while I stuck around a little longer to finish out the Rangers/Jets game. Lundqvist and Pavelec each logged shutouts in a tense, scoreless affair; the Rangers fell in the shootout, but I can't even be mad.
          I went the long way to Jared's, walking down Longwood to the medical school campus, then doubling back down Huntington. It was quite chilly, and when I got to Jared's, the glass in the front door was promisingly steamy. I made a splash as Ernie from Sesame Street, complete with huge, terrifying mask. This was another huge party; there was appreciable overlap with last night's guests, but it was switched up at the same time. Andrew P made me carry his beer over from last night, so I taxed him a Miller Lite and settled in. Jared and the boys apparently obtained 8 handles for $80 in New Hampshire, but the ensuing shots of Zhenka were surprisingly tolerable.
          Dave Z, Nathan and I party-hopped, dropping by the Phons to see how things were going there and return Laura's Hit Girl throwing star. I chatted with Meredith, took a shot with Lauren B, and played slap cup until someone knocked a full cup onto Sarah. We bailed after maybe 45 minutes and returned for more dancing at Jared's (Ryan L was DJ once again) and more drinks as well. Spill-wise, this was the worst night I ever had: 3 party fouls in under an hour and a half, one of which was on the stairs (1/2 nightmare, 1/2 extra convenient) and another that I wiped up with my socks. I enjoyed a long heart-to-heart with Erika before Emily and I walked home in the extreme cold.
          Quotes of the day:
"She looks like a Lenscrafters model." - Alaric, re: Felicity Smoke
"This is like Samwell Tarly going beyond the Wall." - Emily