2004-05-05 - 3:33 a.m.

I knew when I locked up on Saturday that there�d be trouble on Monday, but there�s a day in between and that�s Sunday.

It�s the same old story, I know, pining away at free time once the weekend is over, but there�s always seven days in a week, over and over again, so pardon me if I repeat myself too.

Wait. No. Saturday wasn�t so bad either. Got to work at 1:30 and left at 6:30, content that I had stopped the bleeding as best I could. Walked with the Roommate to the South End and got awesome, awesome Ethiopian food.

We met up with Julianne after at Folly's to watch the Sox, and that�s when they Sox began their still current losing streak, after having to that point compiled the best record in baseball.

And it was fun.

Sunday was blithe and devil-may-care. The Roommate and I dealt with our hangovers admirably over Schillings and caffeine at Dunkie�s (you�d only know what a Schilling is if you�re from Boston and can figure things out backwards). I checked my cellphone for missed calls, but I put work out of my head the whole day. We walked around our fair city for Somerville Open Studios, a once-a-year event that should happen way, way, way more often, and looked at the oart. We got to venture into buildings I�ve always wanted to be inside of, and, as I�ve mentioned before, the Roommate and I have very similar art-walking speeds, and trust each other when it comes to checking out a room or leaving it, which made it all the more fun--being in tune; a team.

I can�t even begin to describe how enchanting it is to roam around the insides of beautiful old wood and brick buildings, checking out pieces of art in the very rooms in which they were made, artists present. 364 days a year I don�t do this, but I think it would be special every day were it every day.

If that kind of thing ever becomes tedious, it�s either time to move to Japan or try heroin.

We hit Vernon Street, the big one, but I also really enjoyed, among other places, the Mad Oyster studios, where I discovered ML Van Nice. I could have lingered in that studio for hours.

Master chemist that I am, it�s still rather difficult to tweak the perfect combination of beer, coffee, and other things, and I think I hit the trifecta. And that�s always nice.

I had a plan. We had done half of Vernon Street and it was time to head downstairs and outside and into the other half. But not just yet. First? A beer at nearby Devlin�s. Why? Well, the most important reason was to get a beer. Aside from that, and of course taking a break, was being able to be in a nearby place where we were on the fringe of acceptance, but where I�m pretty sure 95% of the nearby artists daren�t dream step foot. Reality check for one--to cleanse the palate for more art, and also just �cause we could.

I think I�m a venn diagram.

Anyway, the Roommate had purchased a rather large photo print, and we got that home through the suddenly-it�s-raining in a kitchen bag I had gotten at the Q-Mart, after a couple of beers and a rendezvous with Julianne, and after home and a beer, we headed back to Vernon.

And after, to Davis to get some food at the Rosebud. I slipped for the second time in two days and had red meat. I�m a rebel.

Waiting for the bus to the Simpsons, some random guy involved with the Independent Film Festival of Boston offered us free movie tickets to a film called, fittingly enough, Luck. He sold us more on the eight minute Bob Odenkirk short than the actual film, and we went and watched it. I think it�s appropriate and sad that the three theaters screening films for Boston�s film festival are all located outside of Boston (Cambridge, Somerville, and Brookline).

When the Roommate and I got home, all there was left to do was to watch Butch on Sports Sunday. That poor bastard. Does he know that he�s the last gasp of freedom for so many New Englanders before the work week begins? Once Butch is over, there�s nothing left to look forward to.

I finished the weekend having somehow spent a massive amount of money, but I do have a fridge magnet to show for it.

But it was a great weekend and a great, slow Sunday. On Medford Street and Thurston, the Roommate and I sat on the steps of the church there and smoked Parliaments, the whole day ahead of us.