Nicest People In the World

          Christina reached out to give me the bad news: Harold passed away while playing chess, the game he so loved. Harold lived to the ripe old age of 93, saw and accomplished so much in his life without losing his kindness and humility, and I'm sorry to see him go. Rest in peace.
          I said goodbye to Kati, too, since she'll be in Miami for the last couple weeks of my co-op. In the Toys for Tots department, Patrick somehow got a hold of a Red Team strategy email (we're Green -- oh yeah), printed out numerous copies on green printer paper, and distributed them around the office. The pharmaceutical industry seems to be getting nervous about the prospect of new regulations, running thinkpieces with names like "The Folly of Targeting Big Pharma" in papers like the Wall Street Journal, often hiding behind the editorial board's veil of anonymity. That's an actual headline.
          After work, I smoked and watched more hockey with Alaric. I'm not sure how I'm still hungry to watch after the last week, but here we are. Update: it's still shitty. I went to Winter WonderBand somewhat late and was given bid #666. It seemed a bit more fractured than in the past, and I spent most of my time there playing Cards Against Humanity and losing as usual. Later on, Jared, Trevor, Jules, Maddie, Kofi and Alaric came over to watch John Wick. This movie feels like a Keanu Reeves pet project and looks like a blockbuster, with a stacked cast and fantastic action sequences. (Representative sample of said cast: Theon Greyjoy from Game of Thrones; that evil guy from Pillars of the Earth; Wesley from Daredevil; Lester Freamon from The Wire; Lt. Daniels, also from The Wire; and motherfucking Willem Dafoe. Plus an unconscionably cute dog.)
          Around 2:45 a.m., with the buses and trains stopped for the night, I decided to run to Jennifer's apartment. I'm glad I made this journey on foot, because it is nothing like taking the bus. Almost no humans were out and about; the streets were warmly lit, but eerily empty. I was coming to understand another of Boston's contours, a process that's taken the last five years and could easily absorb another five without bringing me close to mastery. I stopped at the old toy store along the route, where a sign read: "Ethel [redacted] passed away on December 10th. She loved her customers!" A little shrine with sticky notes arranged in a heart shape was accompanied by a pen on a string. An old scribbling from the owner read: "The nicest people in the world come into my store." At the apartment, Jennifer and I sat together on the couch and admired their new Christmas tree. It was lit up just right, and made me feel very much at home.
          Quote of the day:
"Radical extremist. How American. You steal two cans of soda? Shot to death. You steal a box of cigars? Shot to death. You jaywalker? 8 police piled on top and clubbed you down. You play with a toy gun in the park? Shot to death. You are mentally challenged and sits in a wheelchair and did not put your hands up in air fast enough? Shot to death.
Shooting someone to death seems to be the only answer now. Next time you spit your gum on the sidewalk, someone may draw a gun on you too. Wait, someone was shot to death for texting in a movie theater!
Who needs courts and law when we have guns? It's wild Wild West." - Xiao X., via facebook