Hooray, my knee no longer kills me when I walk! I think I walked about 10 miles, in total, on Sunday, because apparently walking is a rabid disease with the ability to hold on like a Great White--once you start doing it, you find yourself walking everywhere. So my knee felt like I had arthritis for a couple days and I had to wear a removable knee brace for a bit. But, I'm better now! And the walk itself was...well, I can't say "fun" because I was sweating and hot and my legs felt like they floated away after the 3rd mile, bit it was certainly fulfilling and well worth my time and effort. I'm totally doing it again next year. Thanks to all who donated: you guys are super.
So even though it's only Wednesday, it's my last day of work for this week! Tomorrow morning Sir Anthony and I will embark upon the journey to Ohio. More specifically, to Huntsburg, OH, where we shall be joined by a bevy of beautiful maidens (and gents) for a weekend of frolicking, swimming in a pond, playing with baby goats, and (inevitably) video games. To say I'm excited is a gross understatement.
Speaking of trips, Yuval and I are planning on visiting my family in August, before my sister heads back for her junior year at IU (holy crap, my sister's a JUNIOR!). It's a 13-hour car ride from Boston to Cincinnati, but we'd be borrowing his parents' tricked out hybrid Camry so it will be as comfortable as a road trip possible. I'm very eager to introduce him to Graeter's, Aglamesis, Skyline, and the Reds (an MLB team you don't have to mortgage your house in order to see).
On a whim I decided to take the 57 bus home from work instead of the train yesterday. Maybe I secretly knew something unusual was going to happen? For as I got off the bus where Brighton Ave. meets Harvard Ave. and turn onto the latter street, I look up and see hundreds of people crowding the sidewalk and smoke billowing a little ways up the street. It's only then that I notice the 7 fire engines and several police cars clogging up the road. "WTF?!" I thought. Turns out the Greek diner was--as Dane Cook would say--"fully on fire." I've never been one who takes a perverse pleasure from watching destruction, so I continued shoving my way through the throngs watching the building blaze and smoke. I wanted to yell at them, "Don't you people have anything better to do than watch a family's livelihood get burned to the ground?!" But I knew no one would listen. I could feel the heat (impressive, as it was already about 98 degrees and humid) of the flames from across the street. Regardless, I kept my feet resolutely going forward the 500 or so yards to my apartment building. Sitting by my window, fan on full blast, I could hear the whine of even more fire engines and police cars and ambulances rushing down Commonwealth towards Harvard.
That is the closest I've ever been to anything remotely that destructive, and it was all rather surreal. Like I was on a movie set. Funny how disasters seem so incongruous in real life but perfectly at home on the screen, huh?
And now, I leave you with the cuteness that is Cinders, the pig who is afraid of mud. So Cinders wears two pairs of tiny Paddington bear Wellington boots to protect her cute little hooves from the ick. [The hearts were added by the ladies at Jezebel, where I found this.]
The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls