More songs about buildings and food
Had a well-timed weekend full of social thingamabobs involving all the lovely ladies of my flist who have profession-evoking LJ names that start with D.
Friday night went to doctor_atomic's very last undergraduate chamber singer performance. I thought that the last piece they did, Janequin's Le Guerre, is a pretty boss note to end one's college career on, since the performers get to sing violent sound effects. In French.
Not much in the way of post-show celebration since she had a plane to catch early the next morning; off to another conference. She's been attending a lot of these, all a transitional step to her starting the long path towards becoming a really-real doctor. Criminy. I am proud of her.
Next day, joined dictator555 and company for a birthday lunch at a favorite little Italian joint in the North End. I dunno if I've ever been to the North End before, despite living here like 5 and a half years, sheesh. A neighborhood to revisit many times, once I can afford it again. (Well, looking's free, in the meantime, I guess.)
There were graduates everywhere, with the caps and the gowns, each one surrounded by a knot of family. I dunno where they came from, precisely. Was a little giddy and briefly considered enacting a policy of saying "congratulations!" to every one crossing my path, but I'm just not that kind of person.
Was surprised to see a big old building near the T stop labeled "Scotch 'n Sirloin", which I immediately recognized as something I'd seen many many times as a kid. If my understanding of reality is correct, this would have happened during trips through the city with my dad, as I think the building overlooks where I-93 used to be, pre-Big Dig.
Oddly, there appears to be no restaurant by that name in Boston, though Google reveals a well-known one of the same name in Rochester, NY. The Boston building is now occupied by an architectural design firm, but the old sign remains, and they even have a picture of it on their website (which I stole, as you can see).
But ah, what a giddily American name for a restaurant. Booze 'n Beefslabs!
After dining retreated back to her secret underground bunker where we played the new Ticket to Ride Märklin and I came in dead last again what the hell even though I played a lot better this time and had a good time anyway. (A lot of the reason I got so cranky with the previous weekend's game is that I got stuck early and never really pulled free, and this surprised and frustrated me. Part of TTR's charm, maybe any rail game's charm, is the sense that you're always making progress, setting small goals and meeting them, and can feel satisfied with your work even if you're not getting as many points as everyone else. But I was just spinning my tires, that game.)
(On the other hand, the whole experience of meeting all your goals, smiling down at your work, and then looking up to discover that the game's been stolen from you regardless... there are painful echoes of November 2004 in this. Perhaps that day I lost the ability to lose with a shrug and a grin. That's pre-11/2 thinking.)
It was another 5-player game, too, making my current 5-player PvP TTR record 0-8. Zwounds! I think the thing about 5-player games is that card-hoarding strategies, which I learned to ply to my advantage in the original game, don't work nearly as well. Next time I'm in this situation, I'm gonna start building sooner and then keep up the heat.
(Impress your friends: "Märklin" is pronounced like [MAIR-klin], not [MAR-klin]. Also prog is pronounced [WAIN-ker].)
Friday night went to doctor_atomic's very last undergraduate chamber singer performance. I thought that the last piece they did, Janequin's Le Guerre, is a pretty boss note to end one's college career on, since the performers get to sing violent sound effects. In French.
Not much in the way of post-show celebration since she had a plane to catch early the next morning; off to another conference. She's been attending a lot of these, all a transitional step to her starting the long path towards becoming a really-real doctor. Criminy. I am proud of her.
Next day, joined dictator555 and company for a birthday lunch at a favorite little Italian joint in the North End. I dunno if I've ever been to the North End before, despite living here like 5 and a half years, sheesh. A neighborhood to revisit many times, once I can afford it again. (Well, looking's free, in the meantime, I guess.)
There were graduates everywhere, with the caps and the gowns, each one surrounded by a knot of family. I dunno where they came from, precisely. Was a little giddy and briefly considered enacting a policy of saying "congratulations!" to every one crossing my path, but I'm just not that kind of person.
Was surprised to see a big old building near the T stop labeled "Scotch 'n Sirloin", which I immediately recognized as something I'd seen many many times as a kid. If my understanding of reality is correct, this would have happened during trips through the city with my dad, as I think the building overlooks where I-93 used to be, pre-Big Dig.
Oddly, there appears to be no restaurant by that name in Boston, though Google reveals a well-known one of the same name in Rochester, NY. The Boston building is now occupied by an architectural design firm, but the old sign remains, and they even have a picture of it on their website (which I stole, as you can see).
But ah, what a giddily American name for a restaurant. Booze 'n Beefslabs!
After dining retreated back to her secret underground bunker where we played the new Ticket to Ride Märklin and I came in dead last again what the hell even though I played a lot better this time and had a good time anyway. (A lot of the reason I got so cranky with the previous weekend's game is that I got stuck early and never really pulled free, and this surprised and frustrated me. Part of TTR's charm, maybe any rail game's charm, is the sense that you're always making progress, setting small goals and meeting them, and can feel satisfied with your work even if you're not getting as many points as everyone else. But I was just spinning my tires, that game.)
(On the other hand, the whole experience of meeting all your goals, smiling down at your work, and then looking up to discover that the game's been stolen from you regardless... there are painful echoes of November 2004 in this. Perhaps that day I lost the ability to lose with a shrug and a grin. That's pre-11/2 thinking.)
It was another 5-player game, too, making my current 5-player PvP TTR record 0-8. Zwounds! I think the thing about 5-player games is that card-hoarding strategies, which I learned to ply to my advantage in the original game, don't work nearly as well. Next time I'm in this situation, I'm gonna start building sooner and then keep up the heat.
(Impress your friends: "Märklin" is pronounced like [MAIR-klin], not [MAR-klin]. Also prog is pronounced [WAIN-ker].)