The Methylamine Is Degrading

          Jesus I slept for fourteen hours, what year is it? I woke up to find Kevin B had arrived; he brought us a Chromecast for a gift! I also found that Zucc scored a hat trick vs. Toronto last night (a 3-1 victory). The hobbit's recovery has been amazingly quick. Jennifer spent the morning recording ASL work for class, and I organized and cleaned. I traded her my CharlieCard for her Hubway pass and rode over to Mass Ave. This made me strongly desire my own pass, but they take down all the stations in the winter, so it's not really worth starting right now. Having overshot the rack by Symphony, I got to the other end of the stretch (by the bridge) and, finding that one full, had to retrace my path. I met an equally late Sabrina at Pho Basil for a delicious and filling lunch. (She screamed the first time my hat came off.)
          Back home, we got down to the party prep. I had originally planned to go to Jared's as Walter White, shave my head and dress as Mr. Clean for our party, but I was back to Plan A. The party went extremely well, with many guests and a variety of great costumes (to be judged by the roommates and Jules, who helped host and pulled in some new meat.) The best costume would be awarded 350ml of black razz vodka, the worst got a can of Budweiser/Clamato, and the others would receive large candy bars. We didn't pick the winners until morning, but for simplicity they're listed here:

• Best costume: Katharine F (Shark attack victim)
  HM: Maddie (Tree)
• Prettiest costume: Michelle (Bird)
  HM: Jason (Daisy)
• Most original costume: Trevor (Pixar I)
  HM: Jennifer (Sexy ramen)
• SPOOPIEST costume: Mary (Bloody Mary)
  HM: Marcie (Scary makeup person)
• Worst costume: Griffin (Morty)    (it was just a shirt, and the wrong color too.)
  HM: Naomi Zingman-Daniels (Gym rat)
• Best team costume: Matthew F & Rachel (Bob Ross + painting)
  HM: John B, Nate, Amy Sev., Kristen & Jason (Mario Party)

I took ten shots with my Instax, a whole new package, but Halloween is particularly well suited for this. (I also spent a drunken half hour searching for my camera, eventually finding it under a sleeping Jennifer.) In my view, aside from our stress over an unanticipated mixer run when we ran out at an inopportune time, the whole thing went perfectly. I love Halloween.

Baby Room

          Friday couldn't come soon enough. Though it's taken some getting used to, the bald head is a snazzy look, and it dries instantly! Work highlights: an email with the tagline, "A spooky 1847 skeleton that taught people about the spirit of medicine"; Lauren P calling me Walt and herself Skyler (pre-season 3 crazy version) via email. Jennifer came and spent time with me while I cleaned and kept on decorating. We hit the sack and missed Jared's party, but I desperately needed the rest.
          Quote of the day:
"I'm gonna eat a bagel because nothing makes sense anymore." - Lauren P

We Need To Cook

          The Walter White costume was a massive hit at work. Moving around in the hazmat suit quite uncomfortable - obviously it doesn't breathe, and when I walk around, it sounds like I'm beating up a tarp. With some folks in costume, we were treated to lunch for a presentation by a talent sourcing agency that specializes in celebrity placements. The day flew by with some easy work and final preparation for DOCoween, and I got my desk looking fly. The creative section, winning the decoration contest once again, involved several flatscreens and an air compressor (for a "jumping spider") in their work.
          The Harvard conference room was transformed with blackout curtains, a whole mess of cobwebs and plastic bugs, and various other spooktacular paraphernalia. I handily won the best costume contest over Bryan's carefully constructed Minion costume. That one took a lot more work than my own, though several people did commend my dedication to the character. (In my view, there's no point in Halloween half measures.) I was rewarded with a $100 gift card and get to keep an Oscar-style skeleton trophy in receivership. Kati came as a classic bedsheet ghost, David W dressed as Bill Belichick (complete with ragged hoodie and scowl), and Jacob brought it with a lovingly executed "old man" getup. I enjoyed a wonderful oatmeal stout called Couch Surfer. Low point: Emily C telling me she's a Penguins (1) and Blackhawks (2) fan.
          Cyber Dave had me over for a heavy dose of chicken 'n rice and conversation. Honestly, this was our first normal interaction in some time. I staggered up the hill with dead weight in my stomach, slowly walking back home. When I arrived, I smoked with Alaric, kept ribbing Nathan about his "girlfriend," and pinned some posters, rally towels and flags to the ceiling. We three dimensions now.
          Quote of the day:
"It's a Halloween mystery!" - Sara G, re: mystery copies of a media list

"Mofucka I got a BALD head!"

          On the pendulum swing back to a normalized sleep schedule, I woke up at 3 a.m. Following an early-morning rush to get on the ball, work quieted down. The candy bowl has dwindled back down to a sorry collection of Whoppers that no one wants, with a lone Jolly Rancher to keep them company. (Speaking of candy -- the real DOCoween celebration is tomorrow!) The universe handed me one of those experiences on the commute: walking to Community College, I looked over at the station with another two minutes' walk to go, saw a train pulling in that I couldn't quite catch, and sank my whole foot into a hidden puddle. I couldn't even be upset, it felt like a Mr. Bean moment.
          I went to campus and deposited my dues in the office for Justin to find, like a fish laying eggs on a branch underwater, except the eggs are money for the betterment of NU's music programs. I also picked up a baller Oculto promo poster off the ground. The Green Line carried me to Mission Park, where I met with Iris; she came home with me and helped to chop off most of my hair with scissors and Kofi's trimmer (thanks bro.) After that, I wheedled her into watching two episodes of Breaking Bad so I could get amped for tomorrow.
          It was raining, and a beautiful warm wind was blowing. Alaric came home and helped me shave the remainder of my hair in the bathtub, which felt ceremonial. We watched the Predators beat the Sharks 2-1 and migrated back to the bathroom to smoke and relax.

Gus Grissom

          I woke and boke starting around midnight, decorated and hardly left my room to do anything else. Work was all right until I hit the wall around 2:30, and the remainder was a keelhaul. I went home, fell asleep and missed my radio show; this probably mean it's getting suspended. On the positive side, Jennifer is coming home with me for Thanksgiving! I'm looking forward to visiting old haunts, seeing people and the woodsiness in the air.

Diagon Alley

          I traveled around the Kendall area with a handcart again. Maybe I should have made an actual effort to get into MIT. The place just seems steeped in lore, quirky and magical, like visiting Woodstock when I'm home. The office was oddly hot and sticky, and the day passed quickly, breathlessly. Jennifer surprised me in the lobby, which made my evening. I skipped rehearsal because why would I do that, and slept well until midnight. I dreamed about running from zombies, sometimes in Boston and sometimes not, and at one point I was eaten after being trapped under a car.

Heisenberg

          I slept past call time for pep band, waking up around when I should have been arriving at Cabot. I was soon headed for the office, and when I got there, I found the closet left propped open. Somebody screwed up there. I snatched a polo and was off again; when I reached Cabot, the volleyball team was handily winning their first set versus UNCW. We were beaten badly in the second set, won the third evenly, and then dropped a serious lead and collapsed in the fourth. This team is so inconsistent, and the fifth set went as expected: a 13-15 loss after almost coming back. I miss Ava's treelike net-front presence, and our new libero is solid but not as phenomenal as the one we had for the last few years. I jacked some game day banners from the lobby and hit up Wings Over Boston to eat my pain. We then held an awkward council meeting with JL, where we locked horns over the upcoming (and abruptly planned) Band Day, as well as a new "requirement" that every student register for the class. Why should I be forced to risk my GPA to be in a student group? I know I'm not alone in my dissatisfaction with JL's reticence on this and other matters.
          At home, I smoked, watched more Breaking Bad clips, and mapped out some broomball passing and shooting strategies with Alaric. We went in, seriously. I also took a call from our landlord and took the opportunity to bitch about our neighbors' disregard for, well, pretty much everything. Not to mention, edibles. With those active, it was an entertaining night for hockey. I got into a twitter spat over Dustin Byfuglien's dirty and unnecessary boarding of Jason Pominville with two minutes left in the Jets v. Wild game; the Rangers turned Jonas Hiller into Swiss cheese in a 4-1 beatdown on the Flames; and the Kings "defeated" the Oilers in regulation after Quick "saved" this shot by McDavid:

Total bullshit -- glove is over the puck, glove is over the line, puck must be over the line. But since they didn't have a camera angle specifically proving it, the call on the ice stood. Not the first time that's happened, either... Anyway, the Oil got robbed of another 2 points.

          Quotes of the day:
"I hope he broke his ahm. That'd be awesome." - Wings employee/dick, re: the Patriots/Jets game
"The greenhouse effect has rapidly increased the containment of presidential candidates in the atmosphere." - Nathan
"They should call it Baseball Powder." - Alaric, re: Apple Pie Spice
"Congratulations, you've been raped. Your reward: forced pregnancy and birth courtesy of the US Govt, followed by being responsible for a being for the rest of your life that is genetically half the man who you have nightmares and PTSD about and you would give anything to forget. If this could happen to men it wouldn't even be close to being a controversial issue. This guy is a dirtbag." - Kyle B., re: Ben Carson, via facebook
...
Me: "Do you have to catch him?"
Jules: "Yeah, he's being a real dick licker too."

Collateral

          I woke up early to find Jennifer hung over -- how? Neither of us consumed a full bottle of beer! She left and I stayed up, cleaning a bit and getting productive. Jules startled me with her presence in the living room, having gone undetected for an hour or two. We smoked and didn't do much after that, in the tradition of our people. In the afternoon, I went down and just never got back up, and enjoyed a most satisfying three or four hour nap. I dragged myself out of bed to watch the Rangers v. Flyers game, which ended in a 3-2 shootout loss to Philly. In other news, the shootout is still a horrible way to pick a winner. Maddie, Jules and I chilled out and I concocted a layered drink, but nobody seemed committed to turning up. Meanwhile, the guys upstairs were making a ludicrous amount of noise. Long after my friends had taken off, I was listening to the sounds of stomping, screaming, and the windows and lightbulbs rattling.
          Quotes of the day:
"It's a recorder!" - Maddie, re: the gas mask
"Right, so the police treat people harshly and then people complain, and the complaints are making criminals worse? What came first? Police conducts makes people act increasingly defiant. Why? Because they have nothing to lose. even if you do everything right, the cops might kill you by mistake, by negligence, because they are "scared"... Then the media will declare you a miscreant unworthy of living because of whatever trivial accusation the PD decides to smear you, your education, your family, and your friends with. More toddlers are shot every year than cops. Yet we are supposed to believe that every traffic stop for broken taillights and flashing brights should end in death because of how scared the cops are..." - Shana G., via facebook
 

Needs More MSG

          Jennifer came over after work, but out plans for a double date with Iris and Mike fell through. In a listless mood, we both drank portions of beers, ate Food Wall, did some drawing, showered and hit the sack.
          Quotes of the day:
"I've seen the end!" - Kati
"Your sweater game is on point lately." - Emily C

Duke of Earl

          I woke up late again, and alone, with Jennifer's shade long gone. I ran to Roxbury Crossing (again), and then from Community College to get in on time. My shift was pretty well fragmented, interesting at times and enraging at others. Everyone seemed to want a piece of me; at one point, I jumped down the rabbit hole with three tasks assigned in one hour, one of which was pulling like sixty fucking articles; at another juncture, someone asked me to pull some links that would have taken the other person five minutes to do, less the time spent explaining it to me. I learned that "stat" (used in the same manner as "pronto") is short for the Latin statim, or "immediately"; I also learned that "Texas" is Norwegian slang for Wild West-style craziness. Additionally, we run certain apps on Internet Explorer (mercifully Chrome is available on these ancient netbooks) and today it crashed on startup, solely loading a prompt begging me to make IE my default browser. It's pathetic, really.
          I hit DOC like a wall, decorated a foam pumpkin with permanent marker, and retired to my desk to unwind with a beer. When I got home, Emily came over to talk and sort through my paper leavings. We were quickly joined by Alaric, then Jules, Dylan, and Nathan. New York beat the Coyotes 4-1; Lundqvist stoned Duclair on a grade-A chance, so... I guess we won the Duclair-Yandle trade? What is a Duke to a King? Rick Nash finally got his first goal of the season, and since he got hooked on an empty-net breakaway, he didn't even have to put the puck in net to do it. People smoked and played Mario Kart, I decorated, and finally got to talk to Emily much later.
          Quote of the day:
"'Walk in line.' I ain't living in a country where I ever got to walk in no line. You don't like the way I walk, fuck you!" - high lady on the OL

Tort's Law

          I got up a tad late and sprinted to Roxbury Crossing in three or four minutes, sucking down air by the time I got to the gates. Someone was fixing one of the terminals and its incessant beeping clogged my brain. For the second time in two rides, a person next to me chose to listen to music without headphones, blaring it out of their phone instead, and by the time I got to the office I expected to blow an artery. The rest of the day was mediocre, busy but not overwhelming. Columbus fired their coach and hired the firey John Tortorella, formerly of the Lightning, Rangers and Canucks, which is just the greatest news. I think hockey twitter is going to get a lot more entertaining in the next few months.

          I was early in arriving at afterHOURS for the Andrea Gibson poetry reading. Jennifer, Grace, and Michelle were also in attendance for this lovely performance. Gibson's poetry is amazing, heartfelt, loosely arranged; raw electricity crackled in their voice. "It is not a good measure of health to be well adjusted to a sick society." Some of the work is tear-inducing in the extreme, centered around love, life and trauma. Their friend also read a poem, which was a cool little variation on an already stellar performance. People were sitting comfortably on the floor, but the afterHOURS people made everyone stand up to make more room, and then Andrea was like, "let's all sit down!" Everyone sat cross-legged where their feet had been a moment before, which didn't quite work spacewise, as you can imagine. Since I'd been hunched over a desk all day, my body decided not to cooperate when I tried to fold it into this little space, and I eventually moved out into the back of the room. Not the first or last time for afterHOURS to dick around with a perfectly good show. The walk home with Jennifer and Grace, who lives close by on Parker, was mostly consumed by an argument over which route back to the Hill is faster on foot. I expected Jennifer to stop at Grace's, and was surprised when she came home with me. We sat on the porch again, ate pizza and talked; later, hockey and Breaking Bad clips to prepare for Halloween.
          Quote of the day:
"Booking shows for college campuses is a pain in the ass. So thank you for letting me be the pain in your ass." - Andrea Gibson

Taking a Bullet for the Mayor of Baltimore

          I felt braindead at the office. Audit work stretched throughout the day, with the end constantly dancing just out of reach. Fully done with everything, I met Johnny and Jules, and the three of us went to the new head shop on Tremont. It's still sparsely stocked, and much of the gear is just stoner clothing in Rastafari colors, but we picked up a gas mask bong for $30 and I examined replacement glass slides for later consideration. At home, we experimented with the mask; it's quite difficult to use and looks insane. After Jules left, I acquired a calzone from THOP, watched the SNL "Democratic debate" with Johnny, and discussed politics. The Joe Biden run is all but confirmed at this point, which could either be good for Sanders by splitting Clinton's lead, or hurt him by muddying the distinctions between candidates. Iris tuned in for a relatively sedate radio show (I was feeling subtle) before I went home and, happily, to sleep.
          Also, the Blue Jackets lost their seventh straight game to start the season in a horrid 4-0 shutout against the Islanders, including six useless power plays. Just awful.
          Quotes of the day:
"why on earth do we have plain cloth officers in unmarked cars doing routine stops and traffic related investigations? Thats what communists do. This has to be declared illegal. We don't hire law enforcement to confuse and harass us." - Jonas M., via facebook
"No one gives a shit that you are a marine or that your uncle served in Vietnam. Neither of those things negate the fact that the Vietnam war was both illegal and unjustified. There is nothing cowardly about being a conscientious objector. There is however, something cowardly about blindly following the status quo and killing innocent civilians because you are scared to disagree with your government." - Alex W., via facebook

Voodoo 4 You

          The elusive positive, well-rested Monday! I made a pickup at the Cambridgeside Galleria Starbucks on the way into work, then caffeinated myself and got the jitters. I was then sent on a wild goose chase for some client materials left over from an exposition. I first searched every inch of MIT's Morss Hall (with the help of a janitor), and was then pointed to a dull building with only a three-digit code for a name. There, I searched two whole floors and was trapped behind Nightingale-style intra-hall locking doors before finally sniffing out my contact. Talk about needless complication. (Also, this is a good time to mention that the word "savior" is often thrown around in ours. At least I got a picture with Keytar Bear by Kendall on the way back.) I stayed at work until 7 p.m. and missed pep band rehearsal, then stayed up far too late while Nathan and I partitioned the living room in an inventive new format.

In Circles

          I got up to make the perilous journey to Allston again, this time to meet Jennifer at the end of her shift at the bakery. Standing at the Tobin Community Center stop, the last timely 66 stood me up. In desperation, I chased it for a block before it pulled away, and I kicked a street sign. An angel must have heard me up in the church steeple, because a lady coming out of the center saw what happened and offered to drive me. Her name was Marie; she was a school bus driver, and very kind. Thanks to her I got to the bakery on time, picked up Jennifer (figuratively) and went back to her apartment to get warm. Emily A, Lucy, Jennifer and I all napped for a while; eventually we woke up to talk, and I worked on my blog while she did homework.
          We went to dinner at a sushi place down the street. We watched an international rock climbing competition on the TV -- those people are jacked! -- and I enjoyed seeing a "Fire Bruins Maki" on the menu, though probably not for the reasons the chef hoped. Dinner was great, and we came back to the Hill afterward. I ran to Figueroa's around 11 for snacks, but they had closed already; luckily I'd forgotten that I had a whole bag of fat, green grapes. (Can you hear me licking my lips?) We'd planned to watch The Road, but instead I read to her from some of the articles I've saved over the years. First was Christmas on Butter Creek, a country story, and then I read excerpts from soldier's letters in WWII until she drowsed off.
          Quotes of the day:
"Seven week goal: turn Al into a robot!" - Nick (courtesy of Alaric)
"Life has directions for each of us." - Marie
"Does the key have to ask for consent before you put it in the door?" - Jennifer
"Feeding each other. That's what love is." - Jennifer

Chin On the Table

          I woke up late in the afternoon, having moved from the living room to my bed at some point, and experienced a strange soreness in the fronts of my shoulders and thighs. Probably just the way I slept. I went to Jennifer's apartment, where we finished an episode of Top Model with Emily A; Jennifer was in a terrible mood between her work (grinding), her manager (lecherous) and her health (an unidentifiable gut pain, already extant when she last came over.) I did my best to keep her company until she left for a deaf event, then went home to drink again with Alaric, Nathan, Katie E, Sara and Clay. We played cards and had a ball, and their departure was perfectly timed. I kept smoking, drinking and decorating, and hit the sack happy but exhausted.

Under There

          Unlike yesterday, I was in a rosy mood this morning, but then kicked over Truman when I jumped out of bed and became less so. At work, I learned what chambray is -- something new every day. Once home, I was quick to start drinking, and was soon off to meet Kofi and Alaric at the Speare star. My fifth and last Underwear Run as an undergraduate. We hustled through Ell to get there on time, and assumed spots at the front of the pack for the start of the run. At various points, we ran into Trevor, Ariel, Lucas, Elizabeth, and Emily, waded through the reflecting pool, and did our usual high-five line for finishers on St. Stephens. I made my way home in bare feet, and Jason, Jules and Maddie came over to drink and smoke with us. (I might need to refine the way I respond when people assume I'm going to smoke them up.) An order of Food Wall dumplings laid me down to rest in the recliner, completely cocooned in a blanket.
          Quote of the day:
"They're naked! I love it!" - a parent in Ell Hall
"I renounce all trappings of this world." - me

Miracle

          I woke up feeling like choking out the whole world. Riding the T toward Cambridge, I sat in a stupor, not listening to music or anything. I couldn't find much to do in the morning, which eased me out of that rut, and then a few things popped up in the afternoon so I could get productive. I also assumed responsibility for decorating the DOCoween cart with spooky cobwebs, plastic bugs and streamers. The conversation was relaxing to listen to, and I sipped red wine out of a transparent skull goblet. (I've been drinking water out of it all week to get in the spirit.)
          At home, I hung out and flew to Fiji with Julia and Alaric. Later, our broomball team went on to win 2-0! Iris and Alaric each scored a headscratcher five-hole goal. It seems like our shift toward three forwards and one midfielder/defender is helping with our severe offensive woes. After picking up sandwiches at Wolly World, Alaric and I traveled to "his office" in the Fens, a little nook beside the path to my usual spot. The glow of victory is sweet.

ReTeaVangeliKlan

          The office was extra quiet again, and I was searching hard for tasks by the end of the day. At home, I relaxed to the sound of Nathan and Jules screaming at Mario Kart in the living room. My infrequent Amazon order came in, a simple hunter-green recycling bin to stash all of the newspaper refuse and scraps I churn out. Jennifer came over, and we sat on the front porch for a while. Neither of us had much energy and we were asleep before midnight.

Say Her Name

          It was a rainy morning, and I counted my blessings for not being the "medical emergency at Back Bay." Work felt very long, and I decided not to DISMANTLE: Ableism with the Social Justice Resource Center (plug!) I decorated at home until Emily, Nathan and Jules came home, followed by Michelle, Anneloes and a case of beer! The Democratic debate was a good one, with Lincoln Chaffee dunking on Hillary Clinton right out of the gate -- "I did my homework" on Iraq. Booyah. He's not my candidate, but to be the lone Republican standing against the invasion  Meanwhile, Bernie was on the money with a quick reference to Sandra Bland, and then left Clinton grasping at dust after he suggested public funding for college tuition. ("It needs to be affordable...") I left for my radio show and enjoyed a conversation with the guys who broadcast before me. how I would always forget about them until I came back. For my daily good turn, I fudged their forgotten paperwork. Kofi, Iris and Nick made me happy by tuning in. I walked home, talked to folks about the debate, and hit the sack.

(going through Halloween stuff at work)

DA COOKIE JAR

          On the morning of Oppression Day, Jennifer and I woke up with real hangovers. I cooked some ramen to help with hers, the worse of the two, and then smoked, drank coffee and decorated busily. She took off eventually, along with Alaric and Nathan's houseguests, and I kept plugging away at housework. I called my mother eventually, and we chatted about everything from Halloween plans, to work/volunteering, to the Rangers going 3-0. (DAE 82-0?) Alaric and I walked to Penguin Pizza to grab some food, and then to Iris's, where we sat down to pack a bowl, ate some apples, and receive a large "street sign" that reads "DA COOKIE JAR," courtesy of the previous tenant in Shandana's apartment. After talking to all three roommates for a time, Alaric and I left to smoke at McLaughlin Park. We sat on the steps near the basketball court. When you're in this park, it feels solitary, like you're a mile from everything around it. Alaric told me about a new eight-man broomball format using the entire ice surface, which does sound sweet. I gazed at a radio tower in the distance for a while, remembering the ones I could see from my grandfather's house in western New York. I always forgot about them until I went back there, how those red lights would pulse slowly and coldly. They reminded me that I was far from home, like a second moon for a space traveler.

Tyra

          I slept in and dodged telephone calls from New York area codes. Later, after a badly needed room reorganization, I went to Jennifer's and found her and Emily A buzzed and acting ridiculous. The three of us watched Top Model while Sawwon smirked at us from the couch, and Cara poured brown Russians. In time, Jennifer came back home with me to spend some time together. Eventually the alcohol caught up with me and twisted my stomach into a knot, and I crashed hard, waking periodically but never finding the will to rise.
          Quotes of the day:
"I would pee all over my job if I could. I hate Harvard." - Emily A
...
Jennifer: "I wish I lived in the '90s."
Emily A: "I mean, you did."

Insta-Gram

          Iris and Kofi hosted a Saturday brunch with Lindsay, Mike, Alaric, Clay, Sara, Nathan, Jennifer, and me. We just tore through the food, then watched Ghostbusters, a first for some. ("Choose the form of the destroyer.") Sipping on the best apple cider I've ever tasted, we kept on with "Take a closer look at that snout!" and a series of MLG videos. We also ordered a party boat from Symphony Sushi, because no one felt like moving for lunch. When I did get home, it was to change into band gear and take several shots. It was time for the men's hockey season opener.
          We defeated Colgate 2-1 in a tight contest, and I had fun with Luke, Maddie, Justin and Jules in the stands. I still don't know how it's legal for two Colgate players to lay a two-way sandwich hit on one Husky -- our player dropped like a sack of potatoes after that -- but fuck 'em, we got the W. The Prudential glowed with the words "ART HUB" as we began the victory march home. I felt even better since the Rangers slapped the Blue Jackets twice in the last two days, a home-and-home series with a 4-2 away and 5-2 home wins; we got two goals out of a recovered Zucc in the first game. In the second game, we got two more from rookie Lindberg and one from Dom Moore, a/k/a the fucking man, in the first five minutes.
          Maddie, Alaric, Kofi and I cooked down a pile of THC-light clippings into a jarful of oil, of which we consumed half a teaspoon each. We cooked two batches of brownies and stored the leftover oil (oll?), Maddie interviewed me for KKP, and we listened to melancholy tunes. The three gentlemen discussed future season tickets for a mutual favorite team, team decision pending money. I stayed up late, decorated, and did my own thing for some time after.

Home of the Brave

          I woke up feeling rested -- isn't it Friday, though? At work, I spent some time unpacking all the Halloween decorations from the storage closet, eventually filling the depressing windowless conference room that everyone pretends doesn't exist. I immediately picked out a few things for my own space, including a skull which I topped with an Indians concessions hat. Over in billing, they have a skeleton with the warning, "He didn't get his billing done on time..." Jennifer was waiting for me in the lobby, and we walked to the paint store to obtain a can of spray paint before heading home in the rain. Since he offered to drive, we went shopping with Nathan and purchased much food.
          After a dinner of chicken pot pie, Kofi, Nathan, a sleepy Jennifer and I watched The Taking of Deborah Logan, an exorcism film in the "creepy old person" vein. While serviceably scary for much of its runtime, Deborah Logan fell into the trap of overexplaining its backstory, wasting some of the creepiness on implausible, exposition-heavy scenes; the ending is so telegraphed, I wish they shaved off the last five minutes. Anyhow, at some point the front door opened and closed; I assumed it to be Dylan, not knowing that he wasn't around, while Kofi and Nathan shit their pants. We all seized the baseball bats and prowled through the apartment, turning on every light and checking each corner. At another juncture, Kofi went to the restroom and Nathan and I took the opportunity to turn off every light and hide in the kitchen. (Naturally we scared ourselves just as much; I was the closest to the gaping black hole of the boiler room.) We also watched Saw, always excellent, though also indelibly early-2000s.
          Hockey: Last night, in his debut with the Stars, Antti Niemi posted a 37-save shutout with two assists! That's the first time that's ever happened. That also means he had more points in said game than Pittsburgh forwards Crosby, Malkin and Kessel combined. Hehehe.
          Quote of the day:
"Exuma, Virginia. You'll be itchin' to go back!" - Nathan
"Well, you know, I feel strongly, which is why I had this town hall today. And as the questions and comments from people illustrated, there's a lot of concern that we need to rethink and redo what we did in response to a different set of problems." - John C., imitating (quoting?) Hillary Clinton, via facebook

You Never Can Tell

          Work held another boring "how to PowerPoint" meeting, but I was ready with a distraction this time. (12:59 p.m.: "I know we're running out of time, but..." No.) I picked up a single beer at DOC and, multitasking, had a soothing end to the day. At home, I watched the Flyers and Lightning on NBCSN, which I should have known would disappoint, and then streamed the Avalanche v. Wild game in my room, shutting it off when the Avs went up 4-1 in the second period. Turns out, Minnesota would come back with four goals in the third, completing a hat trick for Parise. I'm still kind of sick, and retired early with a headache.
          Quote of the day:
"You're very confident to do that in marker." - older guy on the train, re: my crossword

Out of the Cracks

          My arm is sore from the flu shot, and I was coming down with a cold in the morning. By the end of the day, I was certainly sick. I switched from Orange Line to Blue, my first time riding on that line. It's clean and new-ish, which I suppose is why people are in love with it. I got off the train in unfamiliar territory, East Boston, at the Maverick stop. After walking a few blocks to a large brick artist's collective, I helped a lady carry boxes of Boston 4 Bernie materials up the stairs and into a funky-looking studio. Art was randomly scattered around the room, with chairs, couches and cushions all around, and wide glass windows with an ocean view. It was at the strange intersection of lived in, worked in, and loved in, like the dive in Allston where I saw Paul Baribeau.
          The meeting itself was ultra-grassroots, a collection of mainly older citizens, with a good number retired or disabled, and therefore able to put in 30-hour weeks of volunteering. Johnny came as well, and after a discussion of upcoming plans, the two of us took off. We picked up slices at Crazy Dough on Tremont, which I can't recommend. (I didn't know it was a chain until after...) The Rangers spoiled Chicago's home opener, the Sharks clowned the Kings, and I correctly predicted a fight in the Canucks/Flames game.

Push

          I was timely today, though I did sleep an hour and a half in the lobby at lunch. No one seemed to notice. I also had the opportunity to schedule a free flu shot, so I stressed about it for the hour leading up to the injection, looked away and barely felt a thing. I had a hard time getting a rhythm going, but it was a nice day, I guess. Also on the agenda: the admin team meeting for Halloween (fun) and my monthly massage (MVP.) At the end, I opted not to go to Garment District as I'd planned, just too ready to go home and sit down. After decorating my room for a while, I hustled to Curry and put together a playlist in the foyer of WRBB. Iris and Kofi tuned in for the show, and I spent the time aimlessly shuffling through lifeless copies of Shape, Vogue, and Glamour. Then, home to sleep at last.
          Quote of the day:
"You only live once. You only live once, dude. You wanna be Walter White? Do it." - Lauren P

We're Live!

          I overslept this morning and left the apartment at 8:20. My train was delayed for a stretch at Back Bay, and after my transfer to the Red Line I managed to overshoot Kendall somehow, and felt like I was gonna throw up. At work, I went through the wringer to obtain a single media kit (trade publications all have these, with ad specs, editorial calendars, etc.) and wondered what I'd done to deserve to struggle over something so mundane. I also talked politics with Daria and Lauren P, and got to see Tom L in what I'd call "enforcer mode," just going in on some sucker over the phone. Through the kitchen window, a grey sky stirred with clouds like chessmen, flat on the bottom and sculpted upward.
          Home after work, I took the time to enjoy the rest of my calzone and get my mind in order for the evening. Rehearsal was surprisingly fun; we worked on "Give Me Everything Tonight," "Game of Thrones," "Dancing Queen" (rehearsed this to death), "Zoot Suit Riot" (a favorite), "Safe & Sound," and "Pirates of the Caribbean." It felt good to be back. Later, I smoked with Alaric and, simultaneous to Jared, we shipped the invitations for our half of Halloweekend.

The Pistoleer

          I dreamed that Alaric and I were ambushed by bandits in cars, Mad-Max style with rust, spikes and rubber as their sole components. We eluded them in a quick chase on foot, taking cover among a group of shacks and sheds reaching out of the dust. Continuing into a greener valley, we reached an ancient and decrepit hotel that clung to a sheer stone cliff. Its brick structure was permanently sodden by the water trickling down around it, but tall trees all around sheltered it from the wind. Even a rotten wooden staircase climbing the exterior of the building was intact. A foreboding mist greeted us there, and we broke in to rescue our friends from another group of bandits. We found them in an expansive, dark room with wooden floors and only a wardrobe to occupy its space. One of the kidnappers burst from that wardrobe -- of course -- and as the others fled into a hall, we shot him down. I had no idea if we'd make it.
          I came home from Jennifer's place to find Jules still on the couch, and Johnny was around before heading to an Irish breakfast at Flann O'Brien's, which I may have to investigate now. Dylan showed me a massive mug he picked up at the thrift store, which sported a graphic screaming "Champion of the Second Amendment". I smoked, got my laundry done, and put off eating for hours. Jennifer came, and Johnny returned, and we walked to Tremont House of Pizza to obtain food and to meet Michelle about an oven mitt.
          Happily loaded up with calzones and pizza, we climbed the hill and entered Fitzgerald Park, which should have been locked but it seems someone forgot. Longwood shimmered in an icy blue light, but it could have been beautiful. The sky was clear and blue-black as well, and up on that exposed swell of land, it really felt like a canopy overhead. We consumed some of our food before moving on, and came home to find the deck strung with Christmas lights (really they're Halloween lights, multicolored with orange bulbs replacing white) and cobwebs draped artistically by Dylan and Sky. Jennifer and I watched 12 and Holding, a coming-of-age movie that starts out charming and gets brutal pretty quick. Each child's story spirals unimaginably, bizarrely. Though the movies are nothing alike, it reminded me of Kick Ass with its startling qualities.
          Quote of the day:
"Obligations! They're attacking!" - Johnny
...
Jennifer: "Oh. What would happen if you rubbed away all the skin on your lip?" [ed. note - paraphrased]
Johnny: "Your mouth would explode with blood?"

Bern Notice

          I dreamed that Alaric and I were investigators searching for a pair of child killers. We waded through a huge underground pipe, half flooded with coffee beans. At a sort of waiting station, under a swinging light, we found two men. When we tried to serve them with a subpoena, one trashed the paper and threw it down into the beans. The other, perhaps not so eager for a fight, picked it up and smoothed it out. We questioned him on a date, and he twitched. Nathan woke me up.
          I had to get up and get ready for the Bernie Boston rally. John, Dylan and I walked to Jackson Square with a bounce in our steps. Alaric joined our little band at Mass Ave, and we were off to the Seaport District. We met up with Jared, Maddie, Alex L, Mary, Elizabeth, Lucas, Kofi, Clay and Sara (I think!) and were among the first into line. We were like an hour and a half early for doors, but right after we got there, the line rubber-banded down the block. It was windy and cold, as it always seems to be down by the water. Maddie had pizza delivered to her in line, and proponents of ballot questions wandered around looking for signatures. Alaric and I put together predictive NHL brackets; I had the Wild, Stars, Rangers and Lightning contending.
          We were herded into the convention center a room at a time, and came out into the large main chamber. A line of volunteers was up against the fence separating the audience from the stage, but we were the second layer and would be about 30 feet away, front and center. Behind us, a crowd of at least 25,000 people. We were given two underwhelming opening speakers in the president of the Boston Carmen's Union and a nursing student from UMass Boston; the union guy seemed particularly discomfited by the size of the rally. Famed environmental activist Bill McKibben was an improvement, and stirred the pot on climate change. Another wait followed. We had already been standing in place for hours when Senator Sanders came to the podium, but from the moment he entered, the room was crackling with positive energy, and a positive anger too. Bernie spoke frankly on a few issues important to me: the "broken" criminal justice system; the thoughtless pillaging of the environment; and most importantly, the shift toward plutocracy in this country, or as he calls them: the billionaire class.
          A huge volunteer on the fence in front of me started left of center (huehue, most of us did) but kept inching over to be directly in line with the Senator's podium. I would plant my feet and feel him kind of leaning against me now and again, and he'd realize I wasn't moving and put his weight back on the other foot. Meanwhile, a guy with a large camera was literally on top of us. There was a section for actual press, but for hours, this guy was climbing over us to take his own photos. He was more or less on Alaric's shoulders at one point. Even worse, he turned and took my picture at one point, and it took everything I had not to knock the fucking camera out of his hands.
          I scored a sign after several failed attempts; much credit to the sweaty, overworked volunteers who had to wade through the crowds to hand those out. I just barely missed out on a handshake because three people threw themselves over my shoulder to get to Bernie, so the enthusiasm is appreciated, I guess. Johnny and I had stashed a J inside the same empty pen casing that I deployed for Zola Jesus some years ago, and we smoked this with Kofi and Maddie on a bench in the Common. They went home, and I went to Allston for an evening with Jennifer that was rough at first, but improved as it went on.

Hit and Run

          Lindsay broke her elbow in the game last night! What a champ. Somewhat related, the use of the word "rockstar" to describe anyone but a musician or Jon Stewart needs to stop -- specifically in the marketing context. The day dragged as the weekend beckoned from the last rays of sunset, and I nearly overfilled a coffee mug in the home stretch. I spent most of the afternoon working at a standing desk, which really did work wonders. Johnny, Michelle, and Jules chilled out with me, and we were eventually joined by Nathan and a large cohort he had in tow, including Maddie, Erika, Amy Sev. and Sarah B. I had fun talking to people for a while before crashing.

Great Cleon, the Butcher

          Devin and David W teased me for drowsing in an L&D meeting, but I was quite productive in the afternoon, hunting down a whole raft of media kits. Kati and Sara G did lunges in the hallway. I was asked to call a few t-shirt companies to see if custom shirts could be in hand by Monday, which of course they could not, and had to call again when the plan was changed slightly (but not enough to matter.) We had a DOCtoberfest in the large conference room with beer, pretzels and dip. Feeling uneasy, I left early to meet Jennifer by close at the bagel place where she works. She declined to play broomball with us, and I waited for the 66 in the rain to return.
          I rushed home, got ready in ten minutes and ran all the way to campus. Though I'd definitely registered to play, someone in the intramural office had made a mistake, and I wasn't on the list, i.e. not allowed to play. Nick was in the same predicament, and the two of us played bench boss while the others struggled out on the ice. Lindsay scored first, later taking a hard fall, and Maddie scored to make it 2-0; Iris would then score a silly goal on a breakaway with Kofi, and we won 3-2. Our record is 1-0. I walked home, done with everything.