Yesterday, well yesterday I ... and then today I ...
I did finally do some schoolwork. I am teaching a lesson to my classmates (of the class that I LURVE) on Thursday so I read the corresponding chapter, picked the strategy I will use to emulate and the subject matter for the lesson. For the record, I will be teaching Gil Scott Heron's The Revolution Will Not Be Televised using Vocabulary Self-Collection and Gradual Writing Release.
After several hours of procrastinating and several hours of work under my belt, I went to meet up with my parents at the weekly auction near their house. I spied three things I wanted: a leather Poang chair, a hand-made stepped pine bookcase and a TV (the sound on mine is shot and I would like a cheap replacement). What is it that Meatloaf always said? Oh yeah, two outta three ain't bad. I got the Poang for $50 and the bookcase for $30. The TV was going for a little more than I wanted to pay so I, well, let it go.
Once the auction concluded, we went out for cheap Chinese food with the added bonus of drunken karaoke in the next room. Lots of greasy pupu platter fare later, we headed out only to see two of West Bridgewater's finest zooming along at grossly excessive speeds. Naturally, my father decided it was best to follow them. We lost them for a bit but sure enough, my dad found them at their ultimate destination. A huge, sorta trashy sports bar over by the highway. There were about six cruisers which I think represents the entire police department of that town. We nosed around a bit but there was nothing to really see.
On the way home, Here I Go Again on My Own came on the radio and my dad had the good sense to blast it. Whether it's because it's awesomely-bad or whether it was to drown out my singing along, who knows, but it was fun to rock out ever so briefly.
Belly full, curiosity satisfied and rocking out accomplished, I drove home.
This morning Rachel and I walked to Davis, watched a bit of this bicycle race, ate crepes, took the T to Harvard Square, ran a few errands (books + Lush = Rachel is still the best roommate ever). On the walk home, we ran into two cyclists who actually filled us in on the Beanpot Classic. Also on the walk home, we paused and watched several dozens of cyclists take the most treacherous turn on the course (located, conveniently enough, at the end of our street). It was a sharp left at about 25 mph. We got back in plenty of time for me to gather up a few things and head out for some hot tub time + massage at Inman Oasis.
I soaked. I was massaged. I feel swell.
I stopped at Spark on the way home from massage to pick up a set of size 2 double-point needles for sock-making with maa3120.
I am making some Annie's whole wheat mac 'n cheese. and washing it down with Fuji apple juice. Even the foodiest foodie needs occasional comfort food. I just re-arranged the furniture in the office to make room for the new pine bookcase I bought. It looks awesome.
I like this weekend. Rain and all.
After several hours of procrastinating and several hours of work under my belt, I went to meet up with my parents at the weekly auction near their house. I spied three things I wanted: a leather Poang chair, a hand-made stepped pine bookcase and a TV (the sound on mine is shot and I would like a cheap replacement). What is it that Meatloaf always said? Oh yeah, two outta three ain't bad. I got the Poang for $50 and the bookcase for $30. The TV was going for a little more than I wanted to pay so I, well, let it go.
Once the auction concluded, we went out for cheap Chinese food with the added bonus of drunken karaoke in the next room. Lots of greasy pupu platter fare later, we headed out only to see two of West Bridgewater's finest zooming along at grossly excessive speeds. Naturally, my father decided it was best to follow them. We lost them for a bit but sure enough, my dad found them at their ultimate destination. A huge, sorta trashy sports bar over by the highway. There were about six cruisers which I think represents the entire police department of that town. We nosed around a bit but there was nothing to really see.
On the way home, Here I Go Again on My Own came on the radio and my dad had the good sense to blast it. Whether it's because it's awesomely-bad or whether it was to drown out my singing along, who knows, but it was fun to rock out ever so briefly.
Belly full, curiosity satisfied and rocking out accomplished, I drove home.
This morning Rachel and I walked to Davis, watched a bit of this bicycle race, ate crepes, took the T to Harvard Square, ran a few errands (books + Lush = Rachel is still the best roommate ever). On the walk home, we ran into two cyclists who actually filled us in on the Beanpot Classic. Also on the walk home, we paused and watched several dozens of cyclists take the most treacherous turn on the course (located, conveniently enough, at the end of our street). It was a sharp left at about 25 mph. We got back in plenty of time for me to gather up a few things and head out for some hot tub time + massage at Inman Oasis.
I soaked. I was massaged. I feel swell.
I stopped at Spark on the way home from massage to pick up a set of size 2 double-point needles for sock-making with maa3120.
I am making some Annie's whole wheat mac 'n cheese. and washing it down with Fuji apple juice. Even the foodiest foodie needs occasional comfort food. I just re-arranged the furniture in the office to make room for the new pine bookcase I bought. It looks awesome.
I like this weekend. Rain and all.