(no subject)

[quislibet]

Friday night J. and I ended up joining S. and P. to help them celebrate their birthday week. I called them on a whim from my office at school, whither J. had come, and utterly clueless about birthdays, as I write things like that in my calendar but do not in fact ever really look in it.

Oops.

But in any case we met P. and a friend of hers from Law Schoo' at the Boston BeerWorks, aswarm with Sox fans. S. in fact never arrived, as he was having technical difficulties, but we saw him later in the evening and he even kindly drove us back to the Witch City.

I ate many greasy things at the BeerWorks, but no actual dinner. Ugh.

Yesterday, an excellent bit of game-geeking. Sarcy and Marvytoy ran a fine and spooky game, and best of all it was scant blocks from my residence. But I couldn't convince sjc, couplingchaos, or other_hbk's characters to ask about any weird piping from the woods, and I don't think I've done enough to convince them that the Old Ones are behind it all.

They'll learn -- if only too late.

No one stayed after the game, cspariah even having gone so far as to fake an injury and complain about it for a few weeks here on LJ so he'd have an excuse. The bastard.

Today, alas, I can procrastinate no longer. Time to do some school work.

Comments

[king-of-none.livejournal.com]

Had we any idea as to the train schedule, I imagine we would have stuck around for a few. Instead, we enjoyed the wonders of Salem's scenic commuter rail "station" for about an hour and a half.

cspariah is faking, though. Last time I was at his place, he was doing jumping jacks.

And Lawrey is a big loon. Alas, he probably *is* correct. Then we're all good and fucked.

[quislibet.livejournal.com]

The very first time I took a trip to Salem, back when I still lived in Cambridge, I went on my own and at the end of the day's excursion went back to the depot without any clue as to the schedule. It turned out to be a two-hour wait. I sheltered from wind and rain and weather with some other people in a now-vanished glass-walled structure for that purpose. When we finally realized that it was going to be another ninety minutes or so, the other four people -- two military guys in their early twenties and two attractive au pair nannies from northern Europe -- and I went to a nearby bar together, talked on the train ride home, and got dinner at the BK at North Station. It turned out to be a lot of fun, and the military guys didn't balk at the fact that I had painted black nails.

I never saw any of those people again, of course.

[alex-victory.livejournal.com]

No one stayed after the game, cspariah even having gone so far as to fake an injury and complain about it for a few weeks here on LJ so he'd have an excuse. The bastard.

Just to give you an idea how incoherently tired I was, I completely forgot about that line of conversation. 8)