Catch up

For the last month or so I have been crazy busy, especially on the weekends. My little sister Amy was staying in Boston with me for a few months so each weekend was packed with activity in an attempt to entertain her. I am not sure if she had any fun, but I did.
We went camping in New Hampshire which is were I met Jonesy, and capsized a canoe in the middle of the night. The midnight canoe trip was supposed to be some nice quiet time to enjoy the silhouetted wilderness. It was, but it all went wrong when I tried to adjust my seat and sunk Amy, George and I into the drink. This led to an hour swim back to shore towing the waterlogged borrowed vessel. We all lost our shoes as well. My mom would like me share the lesson I learned from all this, but there is none. I guess next time I will wear shoes more securely attached to me feets. What good is life without adventure and surprises!
The next weekend Amy and I took the Fung Wah to New York City. We spent two days exploring as much of Manhattan as possible. We were able to see all the normal things you think of in New York. We also saw a hilarious Frenchman on a bicycle, a man playing the piano in a fountain, a street ball competition, and the inside of the health department. The trip was capped with a trip to Broadway to watch Hairspray.
Next I went to upstate New York to my friend Greg's place. He has an awesome house on a lake. Each year his family hosts a weekend of hanging out playing on the lake, having cocktails, playing games and participating in general shenanigans. I caught seven fish, giving each one a kiss before tossing 'em back. I made my famous mojitos for the crowd and helped organize a campfire Disney sing-a-long. The sing-a-long was shut down by the authorities for "fowl language". It makes no more sense to me than to you.
This last weekend I made a long list of things I needed to complete, some of them had been neglected. After a Friday night dinner party with friends I spent the rest of the weekend ambling about with no real purpose. Nothing on the list got finished. I did make a successful trip to Target, try and talk a tow truck company into returning a friends car, and buy some authentic 1970's clothing. It was really nice to be able to burn a weekend still.
On a closing note, I hate garbage day. Here in Boston they still collect the garbage using a truck and two sweaty mustachioed fellas. They drive up and down the street collecting the pile of trash people leave in bag on the sidewalk. This alone is not so bad. But because I walk everywhere I must first hurtle, dodge and evade the encroaching trash. But then later in the day after the collection the smell lingers. Empty trash containers emit the unpleasant odor to a radius touching the stench radius of the next container. There is no relief! Every inch of sidewalk is fully saturated with the ghost of spilled milk, discarded produce and what seem to be rancid lollipops. With all academia striving to solve all life’s mysteries in the Boston area, you would think they could have solved this debacle. Until they do, I will continue to practice walking without breathing. If anyone finds me passed out one garbage day, please roll me someplace safe.