Shall I let these photos speak for themselves? Methinks maybe, but I will attempt to describe the entirety of the Fantastically Dorktastic Weekend Diane and I had when she came up to visit.
Quickly, some highlights:
-Not one, but 2 dorky house parties, featuring boys with fake parrots and swash-buckling swords (no, it was not a theme party) and warehouses with tarp covering the ceiling to catch the toilet drip
-The coinage of several catch-phrases, including: “Her mouth smelled like a butcher shop” and “that tank top is both hoochie and butchie = boochie”
-Lots of craft beer was consumed, and much walking and running around in sneakers and Umbros was had. Diane and I were running about like twelve year old boys, in athletic clothes, carrying soccer balls and frisbees
-There were many homages to architecture, starting with the medieval/Trappist monk-themed bar to MIT’s architecture library to the historic houses of Beacon Hill.
Here goes!
THURS: PUBLICK HOUSE
Diane arrives in the evening, and despite the rain and delayed bus, she/I/we are in great spirits! Why? Because we’re off to dinner and drinks at the Publick House, where we’re seated at this table with pointy crowned chairs that made us feel very regal. If only we were wearing fur-lined capes fit for a king. This seat was right next to a fireplace—it couldn’t have been more picturesque. Diane got a MOJO IPA and I a Lagunitas IPA from their extensive beer menu:
Then we shared the citrus chicken sandwich and a grilled Cuban, which was just heavenly fried buttery meaty deliciousness. Here we are in our regal chairs, enjoying a pinty:
However, we were so tired from our respective travel and lack of mealage etc, that we only lasted 2 pints apiece, and made it home before 11ish.
FRIDAY:
We both wake up early, and I go for a 6 mile run while Diane reads Sin and the 2nd City (published by my former employer, holla), studies for her archie exam, and…plays video games on her ipod touch. But we head out by 10:30am, so we can have a beautiful walk through historic Beacon Hill, home of pretty houses, the blue-blood Boston Brahmins, and of course, John Kerry and his tomato ketchup empire wife.
HOWEVER! We were on a mission for an egg-and-cheese breakfast sandwich, and nowhere in Boston does such a sandwich seem to exist. Not anywhere along the tony Charles Street, not anywhere else in Beacon Hill. We had to resort to the Au Bon Pain under the Longfellow Bridge (by Mass General Hospital) to get our fix of bodega/deli food = (.
Anyway, fully fueled, we resume our walk through these picturesque streets. Diane--the aesthetically-oriented, architecturally-minded girl that she is--loved it. There are narrow, hilly streets, with lots of Colonial/Federalist/Greek revival charm.
Why is Charles Street so pretty?
Hobbit doors.
Careful, those seedy alleyways of Beacon Hill are DANGEROUS.
Diane likes her symmetry.
Diane standing in front of the 10 million dollar John Kerry house. 
Pretty gas lanterns and back alleyways.
My favorite was the foot scrapers perched on each stoop. When I buy my brownstone in Brooklyn, my only request is that it has a stoop and it has a wrought-iron foot scraper. If it doesn't have one, then I'm going to get that shiznit custom-made.
This photo is for Jessi, Isabella and Bagel. This way for Part II….!
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