I just got back from South Station, where I gave Brig a hug and saw her through the turnstiles, and it seemed like there would be a plane waiting for her in the bus station and off she'd go. She's actually leaving for Chile on Wednesday.
We have so much fun together... I think we both remind each other of the people we want to be and the things we want to do. It's like we both say, "Oh yeah! I like live music!" and "Oh yeah, magazines are mighty fine," etc. And so despite a seriously gross hacking cough inherited from the baby, I had a very lovely Friday and Saturday morning.
Yesterday we went to Trident for lunch and browsing; browsed through alternative media magazines, literary magazines, and the atrocious children's section (which wasn't worth the browse). Then on to Newbury Comics, where I picked up the Gorillaz CD I've wanted since Ireland (listening to it now, rocks as much as hoped) for a cool ten dollaz. Get it? Gorillaz? Dollaz? JoBiv, you're so amusing.
Back at the Bat-cave, Brig and I dolled up (read: brushed our teeth) for a night out. Then we met up with her old roomie and Simmons grad Adrienne at Phoenix Landing for some dinner, even though we were still over-full of yummy Trident sweet potato fries and other sundries. Some point during our conversations with Adrienne, I realized that my face hurt from smiling and laughing. Not a bad thing.
And then Brig and I headed down the block to The Middle East, where The Damn Personals were playing Downstairs. We'd seen them at The Orpheum (the one in Boston, sillies) on First Night two years ago and thought they were rad. We were right. They're still pretty rad. And despite a possibly catastrophic mistake on the part of the bartender (he gave me a Sam instead of a cider) and the general feeling of 24 yrs old being very, very old, we had us a good time.
And when we passed up the last band, emerging finally into the much-colder-than-advertised evening air, I asked Brig, "Hey, what time is it?"
"12:15."
"ROCK! We can catch the T!"
We arrived back at the Bat-cave at about 12:50, were in jammies rockin' out to a bit of nostalgic White Stripes (poooor neighbors) and then in our snuggly beds by 1:30am.
We're either really really old or really really good at this going out thing.
To make things even perfecter, we met up with Meera at Thornton's this morning, saw Chruce, ate yummy waffles and french toast, and were charged $4.41. Total. Because Chruce rocks.
It's a charmed, charmed life.
Those are all just events and moments, though. The weekend was actually great because Brigid is wonderful. Off she goes to Chile, AGAIN... have I already mentioned how much I am in awe of her? Go Brig, go! And how much I love the goofiness, the sincerity, and the rambling tangental stories of our friendship... I think of how we never really got to know each other when we were both at St. Bonaventure, and how lucky we are to have become friends in Boston.
But I refuse to turn this blog into a testing ground for Hallmark cards. Just let it be known: Brig is wonderful. I will miss her while she's incarcerated in the Chilean prison. Perhaps I will send her a cake with a file in it and she can come back to Boston and hang out with me.
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