Quality time spent in the quad with 2pac. Then we went all the way to Cambridge and ate lunch at La Creperie. It must have been 100 degrees in the sun. I swear I can hear my hair sizzling. To make matters worse 2pac led us down the wrong path (I should know not to trust her directions) and we walked around in a big circle. But the French crepe was soooooo worth it, especially the Chocolate Tropical. The six of us crammed in the tiny weenie room, soaked up the AC before we had to face the heat again.
Hours later we came back to this side of the river on Newbury Street, roaming aimlessly in Urban Outfitters which was supposed to have a sale but sadly didn’t. Somehow we ended up in the quad again, found more members of our little gang (except K who was all the way in Atlanta). Some hilarious and incriminating pictures were taken, that involved R on top of 2pac, and you have to see it to believe it. We laughed so hard I thought I heard echoes from the surrounding buildings. Little kisses, little hugs, big kisses, big hugs, little kisses, big hugs (hysterical part from Nacho Libre) were exchanged as we said our goodbyes and parted ways for the summer.
2pac and I had to make it to dinner in Chinatown at 6pm. It was 5:30pm and we looked at each other and just knew we couldn’t resist shopping around in Downtown. Dinner at Penang turned into a “One Thousand and One Nights” marathon of drunken and stupid anecdotes. Somehow I think my reputation got damaged by 2pac’s amazing storytelling ability, they are so much more embarrassing when she tells it.
My beef noodle was especially greasy, thank god there was bubble tea to cleanse the system after dinner (not that bubble tea is any lese calorie-rich). We sat peacefully in Boston commons until a group of retired Canadians with matching red poka dot shirts fluttered in front of us and asked for pictures. They further harassed us by pinning us with the Canadian flag.
Much shopping and packing to do, but I spent hours at Bertucci’s instead. Then the rest of the weekend was a blur.
Sometimes you are so happy living in the moment you thought you could go on like this forever. Sometimes this moment is just like any other moment, for no reason you just enjoy it with an extra ounce of delight. I wonder how we are going to be in five, ten years. If we are going to live like the TV show “Friends”, twenty-something young professionals in the big city. If someone is going to divorce three times like Ross, or marry among our friends like Chandler and Monica, or sleep with half of New York City like Joey, or make it from a waitress to Ralph Lauren like Rachel, or simply living in her unique way as always like Phoebe. (Ok, I am “Friends”-obsessive). Look at this picture of them, just enjoying each other's company. Good times and definitely more to come.
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