  Alrighty. Sunday has come and gone. Let’s recap. I finished off “The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon”. Not King’s best but certainly a winner. Picked up Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and started digesting that parchment truffle. Wandered around Boston for about 4 hours with a friend (Colin – yes he is… no we didn’t – shame on you) who showed me a great many of Boston’s offerings.
After scarfing more BK, I headed back to the apt and tried in vain to porn surf without a mouse. I’m telling you now it’s damn near impossible… damn near… [ahem] After that little adventure, Sean stopped over and we played and sang on my roof for a while.
You know, the little things ear making this whole move worth while – singing at the top of my lungs on a foreign roof veiled in cigarette smoke, warm tar underfoot with unlearned strangers undoubtedly mumbling anonymous critiques, laughing at the sky for no damn reason, daring the clouds to rain on that perfect setting… [sigh] Magic. We ambled in shaking with equal parts laughter and cold – Boston had been playing it cool all afternoon and it was time for yours truly to get indoors. Inside? We chatted for a while and then went mouse hunting. [note: I forgot my mouse and have been using nothing but keyboard commands] By then it as close to 9pm and, wouldn’t you know, there were no mice to be had.
An ATM beckoned nonetheless and Sean and I decided it would make a perfect studio. We made ourselves right at home amidst the eggshell flood lights and pea-green monitors. I got a very quick guitar lesson before the ATM room was filled with patrons who apparently didn’t agree with our studio idea. Undaunted and armed with Sean’s Ibanez, we made grand fools of ourselves traveling the streets of Boston improving blues [Anybody Got Drawz fo’ Lease? ] and generally jarring the drowsy public with Sean’s great guitar and my shameless singing. Somehow we made it across street and past several cock-eyed passersby and settled on my stoop.
Chilled but triumphant, we climbed the stairs to my apartment babbling in the language of satisfied men. Once inside, we chatted the night away – light fare really; God, the universe, and everything. Before too long, the digital clock bade Sean home and, after walking him down, I headed up to be alone in my palace. It simply does not get better than this. 
