A perfect ten

Sorry for leaving you all high and dry these past few days. Fortunately, my life continues to be ridiculous, so I have something to write now. We'll call this an awkward recap, but we'll do it in reverse order.

Saturday Night: + 10 Awkward Points

Saturday afternoon I texted my friend Darius K (of "My Bologna Has a Middle Name" fame) to see if he wanted to get some coffee. Since Darius is know for being "the guy who wears orange", I thought it would be funny to wear the only orange article of clothing that I own, a sweater I recently purchased from J Crew.

It had the added benefit of actually being clean.

When I arrived at Diesel to find Darius in a bright orange fleece, I realized that we were now Those People Who Match and my attempt at humor had taken an abrupt turn towards the embarrassing. This is not an unusual pattern, now that I think about it.

Fortunately a man came in after us talking to the two stuffed animals (raccoons) in his shopping bag, so the good folks at Diesel had bigger fish to fry.

We left Diesel to scare up some dinner--not an easy prospect at 10.30 anywhere in Boston. After assessing our options, we headed over to Rosebud Diner.

I was all excited about having breakfast for dinner, until the waitress berated us in the most round about way possible for taking up a booth and not actually ordering two full meals. My punishment for this offense was being served the worst waffle I've ever had. It was like a big Eggo, with none of the things that occasionally make Eggos fun to eat (the crispiness, the fact that they pop out of your toaster, etc).

I walked home contemplating this awful "meal" and listening to my new favorite song, "Balboa".

Now, a point to be made about New England: People here like to call things "squares".

Everything is a square. Two roads meet and a sign is put up in honor of a local veteran. The intersection is deemed "Lt Colonel Collin Patrick O'Donovan Square".

It's also worth noting that this sign will take the place of any street signs.

Likewise, when five roads meet, this area will also be deemed a "square".

Harvard Square is a sprawling mess, it is not a shape of any kind. Davis Square, likewise, is more of a death trap than an "intersection" or a "square".

Which brings us back to Saturday night.

As I attempted to cross "the square" to get back to my apartment, I rushed across the street in an attempt to take advantage of the rare opportunity to cross two streets in one go. What the big hurry was, I still have no idea.

The boots I was wearing at the time lacked any kind of traction whatsoever, so it really wasn't that much of a surprise when I took to the the street like it was a slip and slide.

That's right. No black ice or alcohol involved, my legs just flew out from underneath me and I landed on my right hip and my wrists in the middle of Davis Square.

The fall was so spectacular that a nearby group of hooligans were prompted to inquire after my well being. I nodded, said I was fine, and limped back home.

As you might remember, I have some experience with falling down.

I got to my apartment, wrapped a bag of frozen stir-fry vegetables in a towel, and then crawled into bed with it. Realizing I was too keyed up to sleep, I watched last week's episode of House. It's all about being in pain, so that really took my mind off things.

On the plus side, I managed to come out of this experience relatively unscathed. Sure, my wrist feels a little funny, but thanks to the expansive and puffy nature of my sleeping bag coat (which cushioned my fall), I don't even have a bruise to commemorate the occasion.