Pretty sure this has never been thought, or said aloud by anyone. Ever.
Even if you have absolutely nothing planned, weekends kick ass (sometimes having no plans is the bomb.com b/c you just lay around on your couch all weekend catching up with all your fave housewives).
This weekend couldn’t have come at a better time. Unless it happened to start at 8am Friday, when I was botching invoices and getting mistaken for coming from the gym in my casual Friday wardrobe (guess I took it a little too casual).
My best friend from college came for a visit from Manhattan. If there’s anything Bostonians love, it’s New Yorkers on their turf. Evidenced by the brawl we got into at Fenway. Just kidding. But I can’t say I wasn’t hoping for a little scuffle.
I picked her and her boyfriend up Friday night from the train station, and boy were they thrilled to see our place. I should just call her up anytime I’m feeling down and she’ll prop me back up again by telling me how huge our condo is. It’s a standard two-bedroom, but when you’re coming from a loft in Manhattan, a handicap bathroom looks enormous.
We showed them the sights of Boston, which included a tour of the condo and a briefing on where the beer was in the fridge. Nothing says raging Friday night like Starburst and board games. Don’t worry, I had lots on the agenda for Saturday.
Michele’s visited me plenty of times, so the basic tour stops were covered. We’re more into the “camp out at a bar with beers and nachos and discuss the lives of our college friends on Facebook” kind of scene.
The four of us grabbed brunch at a swanky place on the water that included a complimentary beverage with your entree. If there’s anything I love more than visiting with friends, it’s day drinking with them. We were planning on hitting up the Sam Adams brewery, but they weren’t so keen on the idea when I told them tours stopped at 3pm and you had to get there first-come first-serve to ensure a spot on the busy Saturday tour schedule. We said eff that and headed to Fenway.
One of the bars over there offers a sweet cutout wall where you can see the field. It’s not a great view, but its a great novelty, and the bar usually has a good crowd going. We figured an early Saturday afternoon when the Sox weren’t in town wouldn’t be too bad. But instead of obnoxious Red Sox fans, the bar was filled with obnoxious bar crawlers doing some marathon pub crawl. I didn’t know whether to be jealous that we weren’t in on this craziness, or relieved to not be participating; a viking hat seemed to be standard issue for everyone involved and I don’t really look good in hats.
After a round of beers and enough drunk Vikings to fill Finland, we were in search of somewhere that smelled a little less desperate. We went to a rooftop bar a few blocks over in hopes of weeding out the bar crawlers. This was way more our scene, mainly b/c we didn’t feel like we were in the basement of a frat house anymore. The rooftop bar was quite good to us. Somehow, I even avoided a sunburn. Magical, I tell ya.
In lieu of a play-by-play at the rest of the amazing weekend, I’ll just fill in the blanks with some pics.
Oh, that’s right, I didn’t take any. At least none I’m willing to share. The rooftop bar was good to us; the camera, not so much.
I’m sure I’ll still upload the pics; I’m not that vain. I don’t have my camera with me, so I’ll leave you with the only picture I have on my phone. Taken yesterday while walking them to the train station. Macaroni and cheese was pretty much what our friendship was built on.
The platform the noodle is on says "For your safety, please do not climb on the big noodle sculpture."