To ring in the New Year, my physics friends and I prepared curried potatoes, peas, and onions; a beef stew; some bread, cheese, and wine; followed by brownies and Friendly’s fudge swirl ice cream. Ryan, from Holliston, chose the ice cream. Anahita, who is from Iran, sat next to Christian of Germany. After wearing a dopey grin for twenty minutes, I explained to Anahita, in the kitchen, tastefully far enough away from Christian, how funny I thought it was that her president recently publically denied the Holocaust. Germany’s response was outrage, as they have been apologizing for the past fifty years. Anahita had know idea what the Holocaust was. The Russians, Pavel and Timor, introduced us to a drink known as Polar Lights. Only Russians would mix champagne with vodka. We washed it down with cavas.

We all split after dinner. Ryan and I went to Boston Beerworks. Meredith Yerkes, whom I mistook for Laura, bartended. Bruce, whom I had never met, engaged me in a conversation about vectron, a super light, super strong material made from tubes of carbon, and its potential use in transoceanic cargo transport. Anahita and Verena met us. That didn’t stop Bruce. Happy New Year!

Since then I have swum twice, water polo once, and squash thrice. Today is my off day. Coincidentally, Michelle came back from her trip. If were the type of person who used euphemisms, I’d say it was “eventful.” You can read about it yourself. But since she’s back, and Hector’s back, I split my time. First to Cambridge Commons to see my boy two days before his twenty-second. Then, at 12:30am EST, or thereabouts, Michelle and I hopped in the Neon to go to the LL Bean flagship store in Freeport. I drove deliberately slowly so that I could marvel in the silouettes of nature in the night.

Night driving is my favorite type of driving, as I explained to Michelle. She was afraid that she might fall asleep. Indeed, I encouraged it. There’s nothing I like more than driving on a lonely stretch of highway in the deep night while someone I care for sleeps safely and soundly to my right, except, perhaps, being driven and sleeping myself. That’s why I was sure to bring my quillow.

LL Bean didn’t have a tuque with flaps like the one my mother sent me last winter, and I’m sad to have lost it. With any luck, it’s hiding behind my couch or under a book. But if that is the case, I have no evidence of it. Neither could I find a pair of boat shoes that suited me. You see, I’m trying to avoid socks. Looks like for the meanwhile I have little choice. [I did just come back in from across the River, near the stadium where I park my car, in my slippers. They are sufficient for short excursions but nothing far.] All was not lost, however. Michelle purchased two pine-scented candles and a very demure, silver deer’s head bottle opener for her keychain. And I picked up the most technologically inclined winter jacket I’ve ever seen. It is called a Wildcat and it was on sale. There are many more pockets and lens chamois for my ski goggles or glasses than I could’ve ever discovered while in the store.

To test out my new avocado coat, Michelle and I drove around until we found Portland Head Light [House] to watch the sunrise over the water. We drove back to Cambridge and were tucked in our beds by 9am, maybe a little later. I woke up for real around 8pm. DJ joined me for breakfast at Grendel’s Sunday Seven — a menu of seven food items each costing only a dollar. DJ and I both took a double patty hamburger, rare, and a cheese quesadilla. Add a four bean chili to my order.

And, to honor my promise, you can now read what DJ’s up to from the link I added under navigation. It’s called “DJ’s Blog.”

Time to sleep. I have to proofread Mike’s thesis and pick up the canoli from Mike’s [not the same Mike] tomorrow.