So, I promised I'd write about the awesomeness that was hosting Steve in my living room, and while I can't promise eloquence (I feel pretty dizzy right now, and other than smoking the crack, I can't explain my vertigo), I can promise accuracy:
Steve came over on Wednesday, and we were both kind of happy I was unemployed at the time (I would say Stevie more than me), because at least he had someone to come and play with. His activity suggestion: a Jackie Chan movie that prominently features Rotterdam. I proved to be a boring companion, until I suggested we go to Hollywood Express to rent the DVD, which at least got us out of the flat. The Davis Square video store didn't have a copy of the DVD, so we headed to the one in Porter Square. The day was nice, as was the walk, and then Steve left for MIT to [insert Steve's MIT activities here].
We decided to cook dinner, but also that since the day was so lovely, we should sit out on the balcony and chat. Well, you'd think I'd at least learn things the hard way, but evidently not even the hard way can beat some lessons into my brain. See, it was a very blustery day, and the door to the hallway ended up slamming shut. The balcony door locks automatically, and I never have my keys out there because we're usually chillin' and...why would I carry my keys around the flat??? I have to say that I am eternally grateful that Alisa's window was easy to "break into," and that I had been in this very situation before - except that means I've locked myself out of the apartment on more than one occasion (twice now with no one inside the apartment, and more times than I can count with people inside to rescue me). We managed to crawl through Alisa's window and back into the apartment, but I don't know what would have happened if that weren't an option. Visions of having to bug the neighbors for the landlord's number (and borrow their phone), or maybe staying at WILG until Alisa had gotten back from her New York trip flashed through my mind - and that was assuming I had been brave enough to jump off the balcony in the first place, nevermind what the hell Steve was going to do.
Crisis averted, we went to Star and procured dinner; lamb, couscous (they added the second cous in 1971), asparagus, and salad, and then after watching the Sox game (and nothing else - on which Brooke finally got kicked off), we settled down with the Jackie Chan movie, Who Am I? I liked the movie. I wouldn't have rented it on my own, but I have to admit I am always impressed by the whole "doing his own stunts" thing, especially when they involve falling off buildings (I realize that a 45 degree angle isn't that steep - but clearly Steve had never watched a movie with me before that night, because my gasps and the perpetual covering of my face was mocked).
So there you go - fun times. But you know what will be more fun? Singing Be Like A Duck while I get ready for work in the mornings!
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