it’s been a long week, yes sir. let’s recap!
I flew up to Boston on Wednesday night, where I met newly minted Bostonian Mar and her gracious boyfriend. we had some dinner near Faneuil Hall, and I had the chowder. when in Rome, they say. I slept on their couch.
the next day we drove on out west to Pittsfield, where we had Thanksgiving turkey day dinner at our aunt and uncle’s house. the spread was delicious. I drank a lot of beer and stayed up late all weekend, and read a “cyberpunk” novel. no, you’re gay.
on Saturday, I drove all the friggin’ way back to Washington with my dad and stepmother. that is a long-ass drive, I’ll tell you what, and especially so when you’re purposely staying away from I-95. we took I-81 past Scranton, the ancestral hometown for the paternal half of the family, and I got a crash course in genealogy from afar on the interstate. the bad traffic forced us to improvise around Hershey, Pennsylvania, and again in Baltimore. but dad’s got one of those fancy GPS things in the dash of his car, so it was no sweat. noted.
he drove the whole way. I bought the New York Times at a gas station and we talked about politics, which probably wasn’t a wise thing to do in a closed space with family members for a long period of time. but no one died, and I was dropped off around 6 pm. I took an hour to roll around on the floor and stretch and then went to meet Mr Spencer. he was visiting from the Left Coast. he’s looking healthy.
we had a good ol’ time, one that included drinking a lot of Schlitz. Aarti met us out late in the evening, and I danced poorly at some place called the Wonderland Ballroom.
the next morning, we got breakfast, where we met my brother and Anna struggled to keep her butt in the seat; somehow came to talk about my uncle’s friend, Norman, who once ran a race for Lake County clerk while sleeping in a custodial closet at the court house; saw Spencer to the train; visited a bead shop, that prompted a memory of my mother’s neighbor’s small business, the aptly named Living La Beada Loca; and this, in turn, prompted a call home. everyone is well. they stuffed the bird on Thursday, I am told, with White Castle hamburgers. so take that, Stuffing On The Regular.
Aarti and I walked home, enjoyed the cold air and bright sunshine. then, I got my house in order for the new week. checked in to see that the Bears won. they did.
found Aarti again, and here, we got right back at it. I’m right back at it, I’m back at work. another day, another dang dollar.


1 comment so far

  1. Pat Fitzgerald on

    Reading the New York Times and drinking Schlitz? You can take the boy out of Doucheville, but not Doucheville out of the boy — you D.C. Hipster!

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