shaver

Never travel with me. It’ll just end in disaster.

• Moved Tyla’s wallet on her, causing her to leave it behind in Toronto — totally my fault;
• Contributed materially to our missing the flight to Providence — got on a flight an hour later to Boston instead, which was basically the best possible outcome;
• Almost missed the flight to Boston because Tyla and I didn’t interpret “meet at the gate” in exactly the same way — and we’d exchanged passports inadvertently at the Customs pre-clearance, so Tyla had no ID and no purchasing power for a while, with our flight leaving any minute now.

Once we got to Boston, though, fun was had. Chris picked us up in Phil’s car, and then we met up with Jacob and Joe and Nat at Phil’s place. I hacked a little bit, got a ride around the neighbourhood in the Fiat, and munched on some Indian food. We didn’t make it to Harvard Square in time to eat with Chris and Shona at Mr. Bartley’s, but since Tyla and I managed to score some excess concert tickets at cost within 60 seconds of arrival at the Somerville, even the outrageously slow and mediocre food at the joint across the street made for a cheery meal. (This place can’t seem to master a Greek salad, but they advertised homemade — as though that were some sort of endorsement here — crab and lobster tortellini. Uh, pass.)

The concert was great, predictably. Even the opening act was decent, and the Hip didn’t miss the proverbial beat when all the stage lighting died halfway through the show. Lots of Canadians present, of course.

Blizzard fixed an off-by-one bug today, which is really cool, but then he made an off-by-65 error with bus advice that had Phil, Tyla and I going to Dudley Square instead of the nice ice cream shop. Not much of a tourist destination; I think it’s what you’d get if you took our Montreal neighbourhood shopping at the NRA Superstore.

Sleep now, so that I can work a bit tomorrow and then get my black tie on with many cool Boston people.