Monday, November 01, 2004

The Long Review of the Weekend - Part 2

I got up way too early on Saturday to meet M and A for the parade. We ended up getting a sweet spot outside Charles MGH, only about three people deep. We saw a dude dressed as Where's Waldo, which I think is the best idea ever. When I next go to a big crowd scene, I am so dressing as Where's Waldo. Although now that I've written this, I won't be able to get away with saying it was my idea. Oh well. Nevertheless, we waited for a couple hours and then got to see the players go by for about two seconds. It was still wonderful. We got some nice photos. And it was good to be amongst fans. And happiness. 100% bliss. It was interesting to see heroes that close. I will post some photos when I am not sick and can function.

After the parade I waited in line with 100 other people for an Anna's burrito (woo hoo!) and then briefly hung out with former roommate J before (and after) taking a nap. It was great to see him, and again I felt like I was at home.

I went to my sister's Halloween party with M and A that night. It was weird for us because we are 28 (nearly29) and my sister is newly 22. It was a college party. I know you all think I am far too fixated on age, so I'll just say this once. We were old.

The old folks stayed in the area outside the bathroom and didn't mingle.

My sister came bopping through at one point and said "Why are you guys out here? You should dance."

I said "No, Sister, we're old."

"You're not old."

"Yes, we are. We're the oldest people here."

"No you're not."

"Who's older than us?"

"Leah, there are married people here." She said married people all hushed as though these people were diseased, like the way people used to be afraid to say cancer and got all quiet and didn't really know how to say it but everyone knew exactly what was going on. At least this is what I'm told by people who lived in the era when people wouldn't say cancer.

M and A looked at each other. "We're married!" M said, not quite offended but more like amused.

I said "You mean to tell me that the other married people here are older than us?"

My sister looked at us, smiled a bit unsurely, and then walked away.

We left the party early and headed out to Worcester, where M and A live in their fabulous gigantic adult apartment. M and A are the kind of couple who make me want to be married. They are so good at it - cute but not obnoxiously so, and still in possession of their individuality. They rock. I slept very well on their spare futon and then headed back yesterday by train. Longest train ride ever. Not because the ride was long, but because the train would stop in insignificant cities such as Springfield for 30 minutes while engines were converted or something.

While I was on the train the dude behind me was yelling at someone about an Excel spreadsheet designed to play Fantasy Basketball. I have no idea. This guy was a tool. I wanted to turn around and be like "Do you have to be so mean to whoever you're talking about? If you're so concerned, make your own damn spreadsheet!" He'd be like "No, you're not listening to me. I asked you this before. How did you make the formula? What cells did you copy? Where did you get the stats? Did you factor in the assists? NO! TRY GOOGLE!!!"

When I got to NY a man dressed as Gumby was getting a Metro card and a Twister Board walked by. I'd completely forgotten it was Halloween. Unfortunately I was spent (and sick!) from the weekend, so I didn't do anything but go home, unpack, and listen to Roommate's boy troubles.

I desperately need sleep.

Tomorrow we vote. I am so nervous. Everyone. VOTE.

2 comments:

Dr. Maureen said...

Dude, I *told* you the train ride was long. Imagine starting in Boston and adding on 2 more hours to Philly! Agony. And also imagine that with only an hour to go, you go to get something from the god-awful cafe car because you're about to die from hunger and thirst because you've been on the train for the last 47 years because they stop at every single town between Worcester and New York and they're out of food and all they have left is Diet Pepsi which you have to pay for with your first born child because the cafe car is the only place to get food on the train so they can charge whatever they want but you're dying of thirst as aforementioned so you buy it anyway with your last $2 and then you go back to your seat and IMMEDIATELY dump the entire can of Diet Pepsi onto your lap.

That sucks.

M

Beth said...

Fantasy Football is a rabid culture all it's own. It is so foreign to me, yet it is slowly taking over. I hear people talking about it all the time. I don't get it at all, but the fact that people are ANGRY about it and the fact that it requires someone to use an EXCEL spreadsheet makes me think that there is nothing fantasy and nothing fun about it. Word.