It never feels good when your highschool friend invites you to your brother's birthday party. Had he forgotten? Is this a secret? Nevertheless I felt I had a duty to swallow my pride, make a trip to Boston late at night, and scare the shit out of him.
My friend Amol and I drove up, fully aware that the news was telling us the biggest blizzard in recorded history was about to happen (only the 5th biggest, sheesh).
The birthday was fun. Chris has all the pictures.
The next day was insane though because we drove from organic market to organic market stocking up for the storm that would leave us snowed-in indefinitely. Every young professional in Boston was panicked; "we need hemp toilet paper! we need endive!" Completly non-athletic men were long-bombing eggplants to their partners as the lines to Wholefoods touched the back of the store. Perfect spiral, bro! My idea of stocking up for a blizzard (and our Dad's) is to buy a dozen candy bars and one of those compressed brown logs that burns in the fireplace for 10 hours.
Still, we ended up eating a great meal of something, we stayed in and watched the Pats beat someone, we drank a lot of stuff, and something else happened but I forget. It was an awesome weekend. 3 feet of snow and only 2 related deaths!
We rule. Boston rules. And Chris is 28. Damn!