I went to a party last night. A Fancy Party. Capitalized spectacularly. Appropriately, I got fancy. I did have to walk back to Kenmore (which was an interesting feat because the Citgo sign was pretty much obscured by snow that was not supposed to be falling, and I’d never walked there from Fenway). But obviously, it worked out, as I’m still alive and untouched, and for all my troubles I got delicious Supreme Pizza. And cheesy garlic bread. And it was epic.
This morning, though, I left Kenmore and when I got to Quint Street (which is where I get off the 57 and get on the 66) I discovered (while I’m still wearing my pointy boots and Allsaints dress) that the 66 would not be arriving for another fifteen minutes. So, despite the fact that it was snowing–it was actually decently warm–I decided to walk home. It only took me twenty minutes, and the bus only passed me when I got a little past Oxford Street. I consider this to be a win on my part.
In other news, I go home on Friday. I’m excited to see people and to get away from homework for a bit; to get away from commuting for a week. To be able to sleep in past eight will be … beyond fabulous. So let’s hope that I make it ’til then — I have a lot of work to do beforehand!