(the movers came through!)
That time I moved out of Back Bay, “just for a few months, just to find a nice place.” Five years later, I’m back home.
oh no it’s 1210 where are the movers why aren’t they here they’re late did they blow me off now it’s 1211 but they’re not here should I call
On Moving
I am finally (nearly) packed. Movers are scheduled at noon Friday.
While I am worried that the apartment is still not quite ready (stove installed, ceiling fans, general cleaning), I am more worried that the movers appeared to not have bought the meters in front of my building—based on a visual inspection and search of Boston’s permit database.
It’s not like I’m moving directly next to THREE (!!!) active construction sites, or anything.
Guy making eyes at me is obviously military. I eavesdrop for a bit, then lose interest. Guy eventually leaves.
Bartender says he was obviously military. I agree, but point out he was Air Force (exclusively Navy here, thanks).
Bartender, “Yeah, but they suck dick in the Air Force though, right?”
Me, “Shit. Good point.”
If they were trying to get people to enter using the 142 Mass Ave door, they failed.
142 Boylston St is Emerson, not Berklee.
Day two.
Please meet the wonderfully talented Luisa Abel. Luisa and I worked together on a couple of projects including DKR, Inception and Hesher. I’m so happy to have her on-set with me for this one.
Photo: Noah Segan
JGL, wow.
Attention New Yorkers: “wild overreactions to the ill-advised placement of glowing things by guerrilla marketers” was invented right here in the Hub of the Universe.
This pic was my desktop on my last laptop. True fact: I lived across the street from one of these (not) terrorist devices. We laughed at it for a solid week before the Big Scare of Aught Seven.
