He Thinks He'll Go To Boston (Part 2)
Sep. 4th, 2006 11:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eggwardsI've been writing this for days...and something was keeping me from finishing, after travel blues, I suppose, but I regained some inspiration watching Fever Pitch - the movie about the Boston Red Sox fan tonight. It brought back a lot of the feelings I have for Boston.
On Monday I had only one real objective, go see a Red Sox game at Fenway Park. I had the concierge at work find the ticket for me, and I must say that she did a great job. I paid about twice the original value for it, and seeing that the game had been sold out prior to the beginning of the season, that was a pretty good price. There were several times during my trip that people were surprised that I even got a ticket, including the guy who sat next to me, who was a longtime fan.
I jumped onto the T line and went out to the nearest stop, crossed over the Mass Pike (with it’s Pilgrim hat logo), and stepped into the neighborhood which was crowded with people, some Yankee fans, many Red Sox hopefuls, all wondering if the Sox could stave off a five-game sweep. There were plenty of food venders and musicians in the street. I walked around the entire perimeter and entered under the banner on Yawkey Way, the same entrance now immortalized in that picture of Owen and Dave kissing.
The Red Sox have taken over the street with food vendors and a store, so no longer do you have to enter in the small gates that are actually part of the building. They make it a great street party atmosphere there with people talking and eating. I grabbed a pizza slice. I never got around to eating a Fenway Frank. I went into the stadium, down into the small concourse that was actually named the Big Concourse. Given the food and restroom areas I’ve seen in other stadiums (except for tiny Wrigley Field) this was like stepping into a prairie dog’s hole. The bathrooms were pretty much as advertised, cramped, for sure, but they had individual urinals…not the troughs as some had said.
I then went to find my seat. I knew it was out in right field, and at first I thought it was located on the upper deck, but once I went through the walkway and out into the bowl, there I was, just 20 rows up from the field. The seat was amazing, and luckily on the aisle, so I only had to hold one arm over my body and cross my legs to stay in it. People kept walking up and down the aisle during all parts of the game, but luckily it was on the right side of me and didn’t disrupt my view of the game. I looked right over to the famed “Green Monster” in left field, now decked out with seats of it’s own, which looks very strange when you’ve seen the stadium for so many years on TV. My seat was plastic, which I was glad for when after the game I looked up another couple of rows and saw that the seats were even smaller and made of wood. Old wood. I’ll have to thank the concierge again for that.
A highlight of the event was seeing the beefy David Wells warm up in right field. He threw a pretty good game, too, but alas, the Red Sox lost the game 2-1 and the Yankees swept the five-game series. It was a pretty bad blow for Red Sox Nation, and pretty much dropped them out of the playoff hunt this year. The fans held on to hope for the entire game…though there were some Yankees fans off in the bleachers who got rowdy and were kicked out of the stadium.
Sitting next to me was a retired man from Florida who was formerly a native of the area. He had brought his son to the stadium, and his wife, daughter and granddaughter had seats in another area, as they couldn’t get tickets all together. We got to talking about the Sox and the stadium, and it sounded like he had seen a lot of games here. He lamented that he used to get bleacher seats for $2 and beer for 50 cents. He was happy to talk about the bygone eras and talk about seeing Ted Williams in his later years of his career. That’s one of the unique parts of Baseball, and it’s great to find someone like that to talk to in such a storied place…and we all booed Johnny Damon together.
After the game I tried with much futility to find the “Big Papi” shirt that I saw in the stadium, but it wasn’t something the official store carried. Then I decided to walk back in the rough direction of the hotel. A false sense of distance had taken over when over the weekend I was able to easily walk from Long Warf to the Back Bay, or when we had quickly circled the city by car. It was different coming from Fenway. First you have to circle around the Back Bay Fens, then go through the Christian Science Center and Copley Square into the Back Bay. From there I chose to go up to the Charles River Esplanade. By the time I reached the Hatch Shell, my legs were really hurting, and it was still a ways to the nearest T stop.
Now they call Boston “America’s Walking City.” This is definitely true, but a better phrase would be “America’s Jaywalking City. The idea of people actually using the Walk light at an intersection seems not just quaint, but unreasonable. It doesn’t help that the actual walk lights are just seconds long. Still, if you wait for the light, everyone else on the sidewalk will have passed you by, jumping out into the street, sometimes even jumping out in front of traffic. This Texas boy had some difficulty learning this trick, since we don’t actually walk anywhere here. 7-11 down the street? Let me get the car.
Kenny had called off for the evening, so I called Pete (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
trapezebear) while resting a bit on the esplanade. If you know me, you probably know I’m the king of last minute planning when it comes to dinners and such. Luckily he was somewhat available to meet me in Davis Square, as he was finishing his errands. I however had to get off the Esplanade and find my way to the nearest T stop and get out to Somerville. I was still carrying my souvenir cup from the game.
Once I got to Davis Square, I had to find out where Pete was, and then cross another street by not only ignoring the lights, but trying not to get run over despite the fact that you’re the largest target around. Pete had some ideas for getting a little dinner, but of course, I’m not into Japanese, so the Japanese Food Court was out. Pete mentioned a great barbecue place, but then thought against it since I was from Texas (really not a problem, but I can understand, it’s like taking out people from Tokyo to the Japanese Food Court.) He decided on the sports grill who’s food was really good, though it was kind of strange to have them replay the Red Sox game on TV.
Pete was there with his dry cleaning that he had just picked up. We talked about all sorts of things, but leave it to me to fail to ask about his new music pursuits. It was good to see him, and I wish, as I wished with so many people I saw there, that we could have had a longer time. His partner Alan came in a car to pick him up, so I finally got to meet him… for about 10 seconds. We participated in a in-the-road hugging event which I’m sure wasn’t great for the driver’s behind him, but at least helped all of the people wishing to jaywalk.
Now I went back to the hotel, but I didn’t feel finished for the night. Perhaps I should have stayed in Davis Square and hung out at the Diesel Café, but I wanted to go back to the hotel to freshen up after being in the sun all day. I was sunburned, even with the overcast skies. So after cleaning up, I was ready to hit the town. I didn’t really want to go to the Alley on a Monday night, so I needed to find a Starbucks or something. The problem is, Boston closes down early…really early.
First thing, nothing was open in the Financial District, so I knew I’d have to head out. First I tried looking on line for what was open, but you know, Starbucks doesn’t give you times for their locations. You have to call for info. I asked the concierge at the front desk if he knew of anything open, and he said I should try out in Copley Square.
OK, this means getting out to the T line, which means walking several blocks to the green line. The whole way the town was deserted, until I get out to the Common where the entrance is. Now there’s plenty of people on the trolley cars, and at the stations, but it’s different than what’s above. Everyone’s underground, and I don’t know why, since there’s nothing to do down there. Once I get to Copley Square I find that everything has already closed except for some bars, that and Dunkin Donuts. I’m sorry, Dunkin Dounts is not a place to hang out, and not a substitute for Starbucks. Your stores are lit brighter than a U2 concert and the selection of food and beverage really isn’t want you want at 10 at night. Perhaps you’d want it at 2 am, but not now.
Still, I grabbed a cruller and went back to the hotel for the night, and surfed the web for a while in the lobby.
Tuesday was more of a mixed bag with less defined goals for what to do or see. Initially I had gone out to what was becoming the regular stop for breakfast, Finagle a Bagel. The bagels were good, but what really amused me was the conveyor belt that sent the bagel into a buzz saw before sending it to the workers for toasting. Silly and fascinating.
I wanted to find out when I could get a trip on the Boston Duck Tour, but once I got out to the Prudential Building to sign up, they were already sold out until 4 o’clock. I did sign up, then went up to the observation deck at the Pru. I’ve been in taller buildings, but the view was really good from there, with plenty of things to see. They had a self-guided tour with a recorded voice of what is portrayed as a bartender in the area, who of course has the New England accent, but done in such a way that the visitors from Australia might still understand him.
I then had to hit the T and get from the green line on to the red line and back out to Davis Square to have lunch with Chris, Paul’s (puckbear) partner. He’s an EMT out in Worcester, (how the hell is that pronounced Wooosta, anyway?) and he works at night, so he has the day free, when everyone else is at work. We ate at the Diesel Café which is a nice little lesbian owned coffeehouse with good sandwiches. Apparently it’s a big deal that Starbucks opened a mega store across the street to compete.
Then it was a T ride all the way back to the Pru for the Duck Tour. I was the only person in our vehicle who was on their own. There were a few kids, and a few foreigners, then there was the ex-magician who was our tour guide. He looked like Howie Mandel, but wasn’t as funny. Still, he was doing an OK job of trying to point out all of the sights and giving a little bit of history, including the ever-necessary need to tell the whole landfill story. He would ask questions of the group, and I had to stop answering them. I guess that’s the nerdy thing about having two travel books on the city (but hey, I didn’t get lost). Of course the best part of the trip is actually going out on the Charles River with all of the other sailboats and such.
That evening I went out to dinner with James (theevilnub). It was the fanciest dinner I had on the trip, as we went to the Rustic Kitchen in Porter Square. Of course that’s only a few blocks from the infamous Beardello in Somerville. The dinner and conversation was great, and then we hung out at the Beardello where Terry (bigrock) also joined as we watched The Golden Girls and some reality show about car salesmen that was right up James’ alley, as he loves cars. I knew it was time to go when James fell asleep.
Apparently Porter Square is named after the Porterhouse, famous for Porterhouse steaks. The long escalator for the T happens to have some art…many bronzed workman’s gloves that look like their falling down the escalator. I don’t know why any of these things are interesting.
Wednesday felt like a day where I needed to get to all of the little things I’ve missed, but I did make some time to work out in the hotel gym…especially as it was on my floor. Then I went out to Harvard Yard to see John Harvard. It’s a nice campus, but really, there’s grander campuses out there. I ran back to the Financial District to have Lunch with JB (sadly, not on LJ) who said to meet him at 300 Summer St. I got off of the T at Downtown crossing since I made the mistake of thinking that 300 would be on the third block of Summer St. That’s a western thing where each block is numbered with the next 100. Here each building is the next number up, so three hundred buildings later is several blocks to walk, and was past another T stop. Still, it was a good lunch with a new Boston friend.
Then I ran out to do the rest, and the longest portion of the Freedom Trail up through the North End and into Charleston. Let’s say that it’s nice, but it’s not that great as far as sightseeing goes, especially as they charge to see Paul Revere’s house and the Bunker Hill monument was closed for renovations.
That evening I had dinner with Kenny (kennydoug) in Harvard Square at a place called the garage, that apparently was a parking garage at one tiem. I’m surprised that they let the parking go like that, because it took Carlos (carlosito) quite a while to park and join us. Kenny couldn’t stay long, as his new company had bought another station and Kenny had to go program it.
Carlos and I then walked around Harvard Square for a while, getting some of Boston’s favorite treat, ice cream. Then Carlos took me on a tour of his school, MIT. He ran me through after hallway after hallway, and into the big dome. We also visited the closest gay bar to the school, a bit of a dive called Paradise. He had a friend who was there who was very, very newly out, and this might have been his first night out at a gay bar. Scott was having a bit of trouble realizing that there are male strippers too. These were muscle twink types, so they were doing nothing for Carlos and I, but Scott was certainly in rapure, and was quite happy about the fact that a buck or two that he gave them was getting him some attention in return. I was trying to tell him that they were only doing their job, and it meant nothing, but Scott had a few drinks and was thinking that there was actually something there. We reluctantly left him at the bar, and I still need to ask Carlos what happened to him.
Carlos nicely drove me back to the hotel before heading back home.
Thursday morning was my last in Boston, and it was sad to have to go. Still, I had some time, because taking Amtrak meant I could show up at the station within minutes of the departure time. No major security check for the train…just wait though, it will happen sooner or later. So I had the time to go look for last minute souvenirs at Quincy Market and to run out to the Commons with my recently purchased piece of Boston Cream Pie purchased from the nearby Parker House. You know, where they came up with Parker House Rolls. Again, not that interesting, is it? Still, I love odd trivia like that.
Yes, I was a comment whore and had some nice girl take a picture of me in the Common eating my pie. I'm silly like that.
I finished packing and checked out of my hotel after visiting the highly secure headquarters of my employer. I took my suitcase down to the South Station and waited for the train. Apparently Apple has bought all of the advertising space in the station, so they should just rename it iPod station. I hopped on the train, and soon we were out by the back bay, and then eventually to Rhode Island, Connecticut, into the tunnels under New York City, and out to New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and eventually to Maryland. All that was Boston was left behind, but these memories.
I’ll conclude my vacation memories and post pictures sometime soon.
On Monday I had only one real objective, go see a Red Sox game at Fenway Park. I had the concierge at work find the ticket for me, and I must say that she did a great job. I paid about twice the original value for it, and seeing that the game had been sold out prior to the beginning of the season, that was a pretty good price. There were several times during my trip that people were surprised that I even got a ticket, including the guy who sat next to me, who was a longtime fan.
I jumped onto the T line and went out to the nearest stop, crossed over the Mass Pike (with it’s Pilgrim hat logo), and stepped into the neighborhood which was crowded with people, some Yankee fans, many Red Sox hopefuls, all wondering if the Sox could stave off a five-game sweep. There were plenty of food venders and musicians in the street. I walked around the entire perimeter and entered under the banner on Yawkey Way, the same entrance now immortalized in that picture of Owen and Dave kissing.
The Red Sox have taken over the street with food vendors and a store, so no longer do you have to enter in the small gates that are actually part of the building. They make it a great street party atmosphere there with people talking and eating. I grabbed a pizza slice. I never got around to eating a Fenway Frank. I went into the stadium, down into the small concourse that was actually named the Big Concourse. Given the food and restroom areas I’ve seen in other stadiums (except for tiny Wrigley Field) this was like stepping into a prairie dog’s hole. The bathrooms were pretty much as advertised, cramped, for sure, but they had individual urinals…not the troughs as some had said.
I then went to find my seat. I knew it was out in right field, and at first I thought it was located on the upper deck, but once I went through the walkway and out into the bowl, there I was, just 20 rows up from the field. The seat was amazing, and luckily on the aisle, so I only had to hold one arm over my body and cross my legs to stay in it. People kept walking up and down the aisle during all parts of the game, but luckily it was on the right side of me and didn’t disrupt my view of the game. I looked right over to the famed “Green Monster” in left field, now decked out with seats of it’s own, which looks very strange when you’ve seen the stadium for so many years on TV. My seat was plastic, which I was glad for when after the game I looked up another couple of rows and saw that the seats were even smaller and made of wood. Old wood. I’ll have to thank the concierge again for that.
A highlight of the event was seeing the beefy David Wells warm up in right field. He threw a pretty good game, too, but alas, the Red Sox lost the game 2-1 and the Yankees swept the five-game series. It was a pretty bad blow for Red Sox Nation, and pretty much dropped them out of the playoff hunt this year. The fans held on to hope for the entire game…though there were some Yankees fans off in the bleachers who got rowdy and were kicked out of the stadium.
Sitting next to me was a retired man from Florida who was formerly a native of the area. He had brought his son to the stadium, and his wife, daughter and granddaughter had seats in another area, as they couldn’t get tickets all together. We got to talking about the Sox and the stadium, and it sounded like he had seen a lot of games here. He lamented that he used to get bleacher seats for $2 and beer for 50 cents. He was happy to talk about the bygone eras and talk about seeing Ted Williams in his later years of his career. That’s one of the unique parts of Baseball, and it’s great to find someone like that to talk to in such a storied place…and we all booed Johnny Damon together.
After the game I tried with much futility to find the “Big Papi” shirt that I saw in the stadium, but it wasn’t something the official store carried. Then I decided to walk back in the rough direction of the hotel. A false sense of distance had taken over when over the weekend I was able to easily walk from Long Warf to the Back Bay, or when we had quickly circled the city by car. It was different coming from Fenway. First you have to circle around the Back Bay Fens, then go through the Christian Science Center and Copley Square into the Back Bay. From there I chose to go up to the Charles River Esplanade. By the time I reached the Hatch Shell, my legs were really hurting, and it was still a ways to the nearest T stop.
Now they call Boston “America’s Walking City.” This is definitely true, but a better phrase would be “America’s Jaywalking City. The idea of people actually using the Walk light at an intersection seems not just quaint, but unreasonable. It doesn’t help that the actual walk lights are just seconds long. Still, if you wait for the light, everyone else on the sidewalk will have passed you by, jumping out into the street, sometimes even jumping out in front of traffic. This Texas boy had some difficulty learning this trick, since we don’t actually walk anywhere here. 7-11 down the street? Let me get the car.
Kenny had called off for the evening, so I called Pete (
trapezebear) while resting a bit on the esplanade. If you know me, you probably know I’m the king of last minute planning when it comes to dinners and such. Luckily he was somewhat available to meet me in Davis Square, as he was finishing his errands. I however had to get off the Esplanade and find my way to the nearest T stop and get out to Somerville. I was still carrying my souvenir cup from the game. Once I got to Davis Square, I had to find out where Pete was, and then cross another street by not only ignoring the lights, but trying not to get run over despite the fact that you’re the largest target around. Pete had some ideas for getting a little dinner, but of course, I’m not into Japanese, so the Japanese Food Court was out. Pete mentioned a great barbecue place, but then thought against it since I was from Texas (really not a problem, but I can understand, it’s like taking out people from Tokyo to the Japanese Food Court.) He decided on the sports grill who’s food was really good, though it was kind of strange to have them replay the Red Sox game on TV.
Pete was there with his dry cleaning that he had just picked up. We talked about all sorts of things, but leave it to me to fail to ask about his new music pursuits. It was good to see him, and I wish, as I wished with so many people I saw there, that we could have had a longer time. His partner Alan came in a car to pick him up, so I finally got to meet him… for about 10 seconds. We participated in a in-the-road hugging event which I’m sure wasn’t great for the driver’s behind him, but at least helped all of the people wishing to jaywalk.
Now I went back to the hotel, but I didn’t feel finished for the night. Perhaps I should have stayed in Davis Square and hung out at the Diesel Café, but I wanted to go back to the hotel to freshen up after being in the sun all day. I was sunburned, even with the overcast skies. So after cleaning up, I was ready to hit the town. I didn’t really want to go to the Alley on a Monday night, so I needed to find a Starbucks or something. The problem is, Boston closes down early…really early.
First thing, nothing was open in the Financial District, so I knew I’d have to head out. First I tried looking on line for what was open, but you know, Starbucks doesn’t give you times for their locations. You have to call for info. I asked the concierge at the front desk if he knew of anything open, and he said I should try out in Copley Square.
OK, this means getting out to the T line, which means walking several blocks to the green line. The whole way the town was deserted, until I get out to the Common where the entrance is. Now there’s plenty of people on the trolley cars, and at the stations, but it’s different than what’s above. Everyone’s underground, and I don’t know why, since there’s nothing to do down there. Once I get to Copley Square I find that everything has already closed except for some bars, that and Dunkin Donuts. I’m sorry, Dunkin Dounts is not a place to hang out, and not a substitute for Starbucks. Your stores are lit brighter than a U2 concert and the selection of food and beverage really isn’t want you want at 10 at night. Perhaps you’d want it at 2 am, but not now.
Still, I grabbed a cruller and went back to the hotel for the night, and surfed the web for a while in the lobby.
Tuesday was more of a mixed bag with less defined goals for what to do or see. Initially I had gone out to what was becoming the regular stop for breakfast, Finagle a Bagel. The bagels were good, but what really amused me was the conveyor belt that sent the bagel into a buzz saw before sending it to the workers for toasting. Silly and fascinating.
I wanted to find out when I could get a trip on the Boston Duck Tour, but once I got out to the Prudential Building to sign up, they were already sold out until 4 o’clock. I did sign up, then went up to the observation deck at the Pru. I’ve been in taller buildings, but the view was really good from there, with plenty of things to see. They had a self-guided tour with a recorded voice of what is portrayed as a bartender in the area, who of course has the New England accent, but done in such a way that the visitors from Australia might still understand him.
I then had to hit the T and get from the green line on to the red line and back out to Davis Square to have lunch with Chris, Paul’s (
puckbear) partner. He’s an EMT out in Worcester, (how the hell is that pronounced Wooosta, anyway?) and he works at night, so he has the day free, when everyone else is at work. We ate at the Diesel Café which is a nice little lesbian owned coffeehouse with good sandwiches. Apparently it’s a big deal that Starbucks opened a mega store across the street to compete.Then it was a T ride all the way back to the Pru for the Duck Tour. I was the only person in our vehicle who was on their own. There were a few kids, and a few foreigners, then there was the ex-magician who was our tour guide. He looked like Howie Mandel, but wasn’t as funny. Still, he was doing an OK job of trying to point out all of the sights and giving a little bit of history, including the ever-necessary need to tell the whole landfill story. He would ask questions of the group, and I had to stop answering them. I guess that’s the nerdy thing about having two travel books on the city (but hey, I didn’t get lost). Of course the best part of the trip is actually going out on the Charles River with all of the other sailboats and such.
That evening I went out to dinner with James (
theevilnub). It was the fanciest dinner I had on the trip, as we went to the Rustic Kitchen in Porter Square. Of course that’s only a few blocks from the infamous Beardello in Somerville. The dinner and conversation was great, and then we hung out at the Beardello where Terry (bigrock) also joined as we watched The Golden Girls and some reality show about car salesmen that was right up James’ alley, as he loves cars. I knew it was time to go when James fell asleep.Apparently Porter Square is named after the Porterhouse, famous for Porterhouse steaks. The long escalator for the T happens to have some art…many bronzed workman’s gloves that look like their falling down the escalator. I don’t know why any of these things are interesting.
Wednesday felt like a day where I needed to get to all of the little things I’ve missed, but I did make some time to work out in the hotel gym…especially as it was on my floor. Then I went out to Harvard Yard to see John Harvard. It’s a nice campus, but really, there’s grander campuses out there. I ran back to the Financial District to have Lunch with JB (sadly, not on LJ) who said to meet him at 300 Summer St. I got off of the T at Downtown crossing since I made the mistake of thinking that 300 would be on the third block of Summer St. That’s a western thing where each block is numbered with the next 100. Here each building is the next number up, so three hundred buildings later is several blocks to walk, and was past another T stop. Still, it was a good lunch with a new Boston friend.
Then I ran out to do the rest, and the longest portion of the Freedom Trail up through the North End and into Charleston. Let’s say that it’s nice, but it’s not that great as far as sightseeing goes, especially as they charge to see Paul Revere’s house and the Bunker Hill monument was closed for renovations.
That evening I had dinner with Kenny (
kennydoug) in Harvard Square at a place called the garage, that apparently was a parking garage at one tiem. I’m surprised that they let the parking go like that, because it took Carlos (carlosito) quite a while to park and join us. Kenny couldn’t stay long, as his new company had bought another station and Kenny had to go program it.Carlos and I then walked around Harvard Square for a while, getting some of Boston’s favorite treat, ice cream. Then Carlos took me on a tour of his school, MIT. He ran me through after hallway after hallway, and into the big dome. We also visited the closest gay bar to the school, a bit of a dive called Paradise. He had a friend who was there who was very, very newly out, and this might have been his first night out at a gay bar. Scott was having a bit of trouble realizing that there are male strippers too. These were muscle twink types, so they were doing nothing for Carlos and I, but Scott was certainly in rapure, and was quite happy about the fact that a buck or two that he gave them was getting him some attention in return. I was trying to tell him that they were only doing their job, and it meant nothing, but Scott had a few drinks and was thinking that there was actually something there. We reluctantly left him at the bar, and I still need to ask Carlos what happened to him.
Carlos nicely drove me back to the hotel before heading back home.
Thursday morning was my last in Boston, and it was sad to have to go. Still, I had some time, because taking Amtrak meant I could show up at the station within minutes of the departure time. No major security check for the train…just wait though, it will happen sooner or later. So I had the time to go look for last minute souvenirs at Quincy Market and to run out to the Commons with my recently purchased piece of Boston Cream Pie purchased from the nearby Parker House. You know, where they came up with Parker House Rolls. Again, not that interesting, is it? Still, I love odd trivia like that.
Yes, I was a comment whore and had some nice girl take a picture of me in the Common eating my pie. I'm silly like that.
I finished packing and checked out of my hotel after visiting the highly secure headquarters of my employer. I took my suitcase down to the South Station and waited for the train. Apparently Apple has bought all of the advertising space in the station, so they should just rename it iPod station. I hopped on the train, and soon we were out by the back bay, and then eventually to Rhode Island, Connecticut, into the tunnels under New York City, and out to New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and eventually to Maryland. All that was Boston was left behind, but these memories.
I’ll conclude my vacation memories and post pictures sometime soon.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Nitpicking I know.
Date: 2006-09-06 04:12 am (UTC)On another note, I'm glad you got to see so many people & places in Boston. Next time you need to visit the suburbs, so you can see some of the prettier parts of the Charles River.
no subject
Date: 2006-09-17 03:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-18 10:35 pm (UTC)The trip was much more than I was expecting, and I enjoyed it. I'll definitely be back. I hope you'll let me know when you may come back to Dallas!