Day 75: Pirates of Penzawesome

Today was certainly a day which turned out much differently from how I expected. My thoughts upon waking were to try to get some chores done, get as much work done as possible, make it to a hair appt. on time, etc., and then go to a Gilbert and Sullivan show at 6p with friends before returning for a bit more work.  I even thought about giving the ticket to a friend, as they were sold out and I knew I wanted to get some work done.

But things don't always go the way we plan them, and so in fact, the day went more like do a few errands, attempt to work but actually just pay some bills, get a (rad!) haircut from a(n even radder!) gal in Harvard Square, return to work, come _back_ to Harvard Square for the show... and then the night took nice summer evening twists.  And I'd venture to say that part of the reason for letting the rest of the evening be such a random-walk is that seeing Pirates of Penzance at the ART's Oberon (as part of the Emerging America festival) was blow-your-mind remind-you-of-why-life-is-awesome awesome.  Plenty of talented folks (singing, acting, dancing, playing their own musical accompaniment on washboards/fiddles/guitars/saws/etc. (!)) -- but the whole vibe was just different and great.  Kids sitting on the floor, the performers moving the audience around, there being no stage whatsoever (except the whole room was the stage), kiddie pools on the tables, beach balls flying through the air... all set to Gilbert and Sullivan's wickedly witty lyrics and tunes.  We were just so darn happy when we walked outside after the show into the beautiful Cambridge evening.

And then lo! and behold, we cross paths with a roving minstrel.  From down the road we heard someone singing one of the sadder of the Magnetic Fields 69 Love Songs ("We still dance on whirling stages / In my Busby Berkeley dreams"), and the voice belonged to D., who was busking in Harvard Square in our direct path.  E. and I should know better by now than to be floored by such random run-ins, but we still found it a riot and joined in for a few tunes.... er, well, they were supposed to be tunes (!).  We headed on to dinner shortly and then received word that some friends were heading to a roof deck at a restaurant nearby for drinks, but I stopped to check on the busking scene on the way back and somehow managed to sneak an invite to the "after-party" of a wedding later that evening.

But first, to the roof deck of Daedalus went I to meet the crew from PoP and some other friends.  There was a quite funny scene involved in the evening between some locals (that is, pretty, educated drunk girls) and our crew (that is, E.) which left one of our crew to chuckle and point to her beer glass, which read "Hoegaarden".  It was a good scene, and I felt bad when I had to leave on the early side - because I had to find something decent enough to wear to a wedding after-party.  Honestly I had no idea what a wedding after party even was, nor that it was going to be in a public place at the bar of a hotel (albeit a very fancy hotel with a very nice bar!).  So I figured I might as well wear something moderately fancy, just in case.  The bar at the Ames Hotel, for the record, is an excellent place to roll into solo-style on a Saturday night in a fancy dress and heels, in which to order yourself a white wine, and in which to whip out a novel whilst waiting for your friends to arrive (Sarah B. from the _real_ wedding reception, and D. from god knows where).  The Ames Hotel also appeared to have many eligible young bachelors (including members of a bachelor party) in addition to not just one but two bridal parties.  Fun way to end the night dancing and carrying on in fancy clothes!  Maybe not a bad idea to try it on a random night?

Day One: Futurity

I was waiting in the doctor's office this afternoon, my Kindle recently broken and my smart phone left in the car, and I pulled out my decrepit moleskine (which has doubled as a wallet in recent months) and a pen. I like to make lists, so I started calculating exactly how many days I have left in Cambridge, MA. First I totaled up the days I'll be gone in the coming months on various trips -- home for my sister's graduation, in WV for a family reunion, in NH for the July 4 weekend, etc. -- and then I added up the remaining days in the months from April to September where I'd be around.

Wouldn't you know, the number of days was a lovely one -- 144, or the square of my favorite number. As I'm always looking for reasons to keep track of things in an organized, fun way, I decided I'd make a blog that I'd try to stick to. It will also give me a way to organize pictures from the last few months in Cambridge (and a reason to take pictures!).

I suppose I guess I'll treat this as a count-up (to the end of the 144 days), rather than a countdown. Seems more climactic that way. So, today is day 1.

And tonight I am going with some friends to a show at the ART, a place near and dear to Cantabrigians who frequent Harvard Square. The show is called Futurity, and as a friend of mine put it, it's a "futuristic, humanistic, steam-punk musical." What's not to love? There will be 12 of us in attendance tonight. I'll try to post a picture later.