Day 94: Midsummer Mingle

Every time I go to a Gallery 263 event I feel a bit funny when I tell people what I'm doing that evening.  "Oh, I'm just going to a foraged banquet" -- "Yeah, I'm just about to pop off to a silent auction at an art gallery" -- "Ah, can't make it, I've got a benefit dinner tonight".  Makes me feel like ... not an adult, exactly, but definitely more of a patron of the arts than I am (I refuse, as always to use that other "p" word).  And every time I actually _go_ to a Gallery 263 event, I meet like 5 great new people and see more familiar faces each time, get a great vibe from the music/art/food etc. that forms the core of the event (and they are certainly varied in nature), and basically just have a blast.

Tonight's event wasn't held at the gallery, but was rather a benefit for the gallery (that is, a "midsummer mingle") held at the absolutely stunning house of one of its board members.  It was a three-level (four-level, if you count the split-level part) unit with floor-to-ceiling windows in the living area, a kitchen stocked with an eclectic array of pots, pans, etc. hanging from the ceiling (my favorite kitchen concept to date), and a roof deck on the third floor.  The evening began with sushi and drinks and chatting, meeting new people (artists and otherwise), seeing acquaintances made since learning about the gallery, and of course hanging with good friends as well.  At some (not so late, in fact) point it diverged into singing along with a guitar on the roof deck, which didn't stop until nearly 2 in the morning.  Fantastic -- even drew some of the fellow third-floor-roof-decker neighbors into observing -- kind of fun to be among the three-tops but feel like you are on the ground.  The layout of the house seemed really European to me, actually -- reminded me of homes I've stayed in in Germany and the Netherlands.

Day 52: Cinderella's

Warning: there is some griping contained within, mostly in the second paragraph.

Typically I tout the fact that my apartment is located above Toscanini's, hands down my favorite place to get coffee and also to get ice cream in Cambridge.  However, this is a slight stretch of the truth -- in fact, my house is above an "Italian" restaurant just next to said coffee shop called Cinderella's.  Much less glamorous than Tosci, yet at certain points in one's life (or one's night), Cinderella's makes a lot of sense.

Yesterday after work, the original plan had been to run errands with Z., make an appearance at Gallery 263 for a bluegrass/folk concert there, and then go to the typical Thursday night LBK at Asgard.  Z. needed to pick up some computer stuff that was big/heavy from Microcenter and we thought we might go shopping at the Trader Joe's next door, as well. So I jauntily left work at 7p, thinking I had plenty of time to make it to the concert by its start time of 8 or just after.  Of course I forgot my phone at work -- and of course I couldn't just leave it there, as my office was going to be moved at approximately the crack of 7am the next morning.  So after I picked up Z. at home, I asked him if he wouldn't mind a) letting me run to work before I brought him back home and b) skipping the grocery-stopping step of our endeavors.  Of course he was acquiescent.  We got in line at Microcenter where he had ordered some stuff online, and when he whipped out his wallet... he realized he left the credit card he needed at home.  Thank God I'm not the only one who does these things.  Anyhow, phone was retrieved, Z. got to see BBN, card was retrieved from home, monitor and processor were purchased, and then I dropped off Z. at the front door so that I could go park.  Except after I circled, having seen someone move their car, a police-mobile pulled up immediately in front of the place where my car needed to go to turn left onto the street with the parking spot. And stayed there.  And stayed there.  Eventually I backed up the entire street to where the preceding cross-street had been.

But that was the last crappy part of the day. Because, as I have foreshadowed, the day was going to end with Cinderella's, meaning that good times would be had first. Said good times were had both at the gallery and then at the Asgard, where a bunch of folks from Calliope as well as some MIT-ers and the gallery crew met up for some soulful tune-ing.

After, there was still a bit more chatting at Asgard, then we proceeded onward to Cinderella's for some tasty grub, which we enjoyed outside in the park in front of my house, obviously also enjoying the company of many other Central Square-ers as happens when out on pretty much any night in Central Square.  Please tell me where I can find such things in San Diego...

Day 38: Foraged Banquet

With each passing day living here, my heart breaks a little more at the thought of leaving.  I know that learning to love a new city will be an incredible process, but - and here I interrupt myself because I can go no further with that train of thought.  Instead, I will reiterate how much fun it is to write this silly blog and remind myself how lucky I am to have moved to this city and met such wonderful people.

Tonight, E. and I went again to Gallery 263, where our friend sits on the board and also helped start the place a few years ago.  It's an amazing little place with soaring ceilings, beautiful molding, and a great location in the heart of Cambridgeport.  And boy, do they host a good event.  This was probably my third time (?) being there, the first two having been for art-only events -- meaning that the art was the primary focus.  One was an opening for a set of pieces (see blog post #3) with the theme "Gooey, Gobby, Gummy", and one was a silent auction.

Tonight, the primary goal was not to look at the art (though the member show was absolutely fantastic) -- the primary goal was to help raise money for the art gallery by attending a "foraged dinner".  The friend of mine on the board of said gallery is a researcher by day and a forager by - well, by other parts of other days.  Along with a chef (whose cookbook looked great!) he created a menu and a meal which fed us, and helped the gallery out a little bit.  There were speeches, allusions to t-shirt contests, and much, much sangria, and afterward the night went out with a bang at our usual Thursday-night live band karaoke spot (followed by Cantab (!) for a few of us).

Day 19: The Best Fries in Boston

Sometimes Boston magazine writes about crap. But other times, it writes about the best French fries in Boston. And apparently it's spot-on. After a cue from a friend, many of us followed to the Publick House in Washington Square in Brighton for a delightful afternoon filled with moules frites (or in my and my roommate's case, seafood stew and multiple sides of fries). For us, the trip also involved a misguided foray into Boylston St. to Citizen Public House and Oyster Bar -- to be fair, it looked great, but it involved neither my friends nor Boston's best fries.

However amazing the moules and fries were, however, there were even better highlights of the day in the form of playing the game Risk at home and venturing to the art gallery in Cambridgeport where a friend was helping to host a silent auction and after the Risk adventure, the art gallery after-party involving so, so much singing. It was quite festive, I must admit.  Like... until 5am festive (note the clever back-dating of this post). And I have left with a renewed appreciation and better understanding of the Goldman variations -- and a renewed desire to own a good piano.

Day 3: Gooey, Gobby, Gummy

Today I went for the first time to Gallery 263, an art gallery in Cambridgeport that a friend of mine helped get going and is still affiliated with. The space was small, but really open and very lovely. Tonight was a show opening (complete with delicious cheese and wine -- not that the cheese was first in this list!) for three artists, the art of each having a distinctive personality and yet all relating to a common theme: gooey, gobby, gummy. I must say that I thought the art was much more appetizing than the theme made it out to be :). The 3-D pieces were quite interesting (the most appealing to me being an actual small tree stump with what looked like yarnlike moss growing out of it from all angles), and yet some of my other favorites were paintings which, while still technically three-dimensional, somehow looked even more so from the sprinklings of metal elements dusted about them. At any rate, this is a gallery I hope to come to more often.

After the opening, a few of us went back to a friend's place and I had the rare chance to play a (good) electric keyboard for a little while, accompanied by guitar and sing-along, with some trading off (there were also at least three other instruments in the mix on and off: a banjo, a mini-accordian, and perhaps a ukelele?). This was followed by the usual Thursday-night karaoke, which I'll describe some other week.