Balloon hats on the Jazz train to Lowell
Jul. 29th, 2002 11:39 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cthulhia(Six years or so back, I had a choice to go with my then new friend ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cos to some Falcon Ridge Festival of some sort I didn't know what, or to go to Toronto to be with Some Boy with mmmmmm sexy biker legs. While I did have a fun weekend with alternately blasting "White Lightning" and the "Meanies" on my car stereo in the Playdium parking lot, I regretted missing my other friends when he fell off the planet shortly thereafter.
I still try to remember that given the choice between a concert/cultural festival and Some Boy, always go with the former. If said Boy thinks sufficiently well of you, he'll cave and join in, and you can have Both. If you're not worth that to him, consider that the neon clue dancing on the harpsichord. Save the less committed boys for when you don't have other plans. They are often quite fun after all, which is how they get away with plenty already without you blowing off your friends for them.
With this in mind... )
I decided to go to the Lowell folk festival, meeting up with the Jazz train in Boston. Before heading out, I managed to make a perfect omelet Well, ok, it was going to be scrambled eggs, so I had nothing to put IN in the omelet, but it folded over and looked perfect and everything. Every previous attempt at eggs always ended up "scrambled". I had no time to revel in its perfection since I was already running late.
On the bikepath I got a call telling me they'd started moving from Faneuil Hall, and to meet the parade at North Station. And I did. We were never sure if the Balloon Guy was hired by the Lowell folks, or just tagged along. We all had wonderful hats to show for it.
Downtown Lowell is an industrial park, has canals and the relocated Revolving Museum. My companion works as a historian there, and played tour guide during the slow moments.
The weather was moderate. The cuter of the male native-american dancers was not quite naked enough for our tastes, but we still got an eyeful. The crafts exhibits were educational, not commercial, showing tradional New England/Native nautical crafts. Everyone loved my balloon hat.
I wore it all the way back to a party in Porter Square. The bleary grey people on the T colored right up when they saw my hat. I should've kept it with me for my coffee date in Diesel, butkb17 had her heart set on stomping the thing.
Everyone should wear balloon hats.
If I ever get married (again), I want the wedding party to wear balloon hats in lieu of some overpriced lacey headdress that, when I'm done with it, becomes another piece of cruft.
*Pop*
cos to some Falcon Ridge Festival of some sort I didn't know what, or to go to Toronto to be with Some Boy with mmmmmm sexy biker legs. While I did have a fun weekend with alternately blasting "White Lightning" and the "Meanies" on my car stereo in the Playdium parking lot, I regretted missing my other friends when he fell off the planet shortly thereafter.I still try to remember that given the choice between a concert/cultural festival and Some Boy, always go with the former. If said Boy thinks sufficiently well of you, he'll cave and join in, and you can have Both. If you're not worth that to him, consider that the neon clue dancing on the harpsichord. Save the less committed boys for when you don't have other plans. They are often quite fun after all, which is how they get away with plenty already without you blowing off your friends for them.
With this in mind... )
I decided to go to the Lowell folk festival, meeting up with the Jazz train in Boston. Before heading out, I managed to make a perfect omelet Well, ok, it was going to be scrambled eggs, so I had nothing to put IN in the omelet, but it folded over and looked perfect and everything. Every previous attempt at eggs always ended up "scrambled". I had no time to revel in its perfection since I was already running late.
On the bikepath I got a call telling me they'd started moving from Faneuil Hall, and to meet the parade at North Station. And I did. We were never sure if the Balloon Guy was hired by the Lowell folks, or just tagged along. We all had wonderful hats to show for it.
Downtown Lowell is an industrial park, has canals and the relocated Revolving Museum. My companion works as a historian there, and played tour guide during the slow moments.
The weather was moderate. The cuter of the male native-american dancers was not quite naked enough for our tastes, but we still got an eyeful. The crafts exhibits were educational, not commercial, showing tradional New England/Native nautical crafts. Everyone loved my balloon hat.
I wore it all the way back to a party in Porter Square. The bleary grey people on the T colored right up when they saw my hat. I should've kept it with me for my coffee date in Diesel, but
kb17 had her heart set on stomping the thing. Everyone should wear balloon hats.
If I ever get married (again), I want the wedding party to wear balloon hats in lieu of some overpriced lacey headdress that, when I'm done with it, becomes another piece of cruft.
*Pop*
