Good times. Good vibes. Good company.

07 March, 2019

Concrete Jungle Where Dreams Are Made Of

I awoke to the sweetest snapshots and videos from Lina in Boston about her new-found love that came in the form of a grey armchair I'd bought as a surprise for her.  She and I are very different in our living styles with her approach being very minimalistic and mine being very materialistic.  She has a select few things that mean the world to her whereas I live through items by way of the memories, joy, heartbreak (so on and so forth) that they brought me.

These opposing viewpoints have meant that Lina's been feeling as though the flat is quite "cluttered" by her standards--specifically with regard to there being too much furniture.  I, however, felt that there was not enough for her to be able to fully feel at home.  My desk/office area is where I spend most of my time working, eating, and relaxing, leaving her either the floor or the bed to do the same.  I really wanted her to have her own go-to space and thought that a magnificent armchair, placed near the windows so that she could take in the sights and sounds of Boston (and basking in the rare sunlight like a lizard) as she so adores doing would be a great idea.

She started guessing as to what this surprise might be and straight up said, "It's not another piece of furniture, is it? We have no space!"  Oh,  how that reaction changed.  "It couldn't possibly be better if I asked someone to build it for me.  The height is EXACT for my windows.  The arm rests are just perfect for my feet to slide.  The width of the chair offers a roomy sprawl.  The plush is comfy but won't hurt my back.  I can watch the sun take its course through each phase in each window.  I AM IN A STATE OF BLISS." I could go on but, uh, I think the message has gotten across.  I was over-the-moon with how happy she was for it that my day could only get better from thereon.

Once I wiped away my tears of joy, we kicked off the morning of our first full day in the city with a trip to the breathtaking Grand Central Station followed by arguably the most lit brunch I've ever attended (and there's been a few) at Lava.  Every imaginable brunch item you could dream up was laid before us and gobbled up, the sound of Brazilian Portuguese travelling about the table before being consumed by music.

How this next part happened, and not for lack of frustrating speculation, we've not figured out but in an effort to relocate our coats and the table setup changes for the party part of the brunch festivities, it was pointed out to me that my coat was absolutely COVERED top-to-toe in ketchup.  My beloved, pricey winter coat that I spent hours sifting through the web to select in anticipation for my first hardcore East Coast winter was slathered, no exaggeration, in a bloody condiment.  Fernando, Thay's sweet promoter, quickly found some club soda and we made our way into the ladies' to do damage control.  Thay's coat got a fair bit of splatter as well so we had our work cut out for ourselves.  Fuming and scrubbing away, we did what we could and then *inhale, exhale* let it go.  What I love about this girl is our shared approach to, well, life, in that you can only do so much in a crap situation and once it's out of your hands, even if the outcome isn't what you wanted, how you choose to react is still in your control.

After getting out as much as we could both of swear words and of the sticky red substance we chose to pour ourselves some hard drinks and sing songs at the top of our lungs, dancing around with glow-in-the-dark sticks like a bunch of happy kids mid-day in New York at the strangest brunch restaurant/club I'd ever encountered.  It was eggs and bacon being served one minute and professional dancers and party cannons the next.  Thay was happily shocked over my impressive range of accurately sung Portuguese songs and I, basic as it might make me, felt like I was in a magical alternate reality when  "Empire State Of Mind" came on as we celebrated the weekend in style with all chill lost.



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