Actually, I do care if I ever get back.

Weather: perfect. 73 at game time and clear.
Outcome: less so. 6-4 Angels.


Today was famous.

The Boston Marathon.

Only slightly less famous was the roof deck party we went to.

Here are some pictorial highlights and stats pulled from the AP wire:

Ernst Van Dyk. Wheelchair Winner. 1:26:49

Closest women's finish in the history of the race.
In front: Dire Tune. Womens' winner. 2:25:25
In second: Alevtina Biktimirova. Womens' runner up. 2:25:27

Robert Cheruiyot. Winner. 2:07:46

Lance Armstrong (in the yellow on the left hand side). Not the winner. 2:50:58

Some guys dressed like Solo Cups. Costume winner. Time unavailable.

A bunch of folks. All more winners than me for running 26.2 miles. ?:??:??

Micah Whitson. Best Fiance winner. 4:56:13

Best rooftop view in the city winners.


The Big Three. Plus two.

Our friends Ben and Rich (no, not Big and Rich) rolled into town tonight from Durham. And they decided to head over to watch the Big Three and the rest of the Celtics take on the Hawks in the first game of the NBA playoffs. So we met up with them for dinner at Four's and then we rolled on back to Cambridge.



Today was one of those days that you realized why surviving thorough the winter was so worth it.

(View this last one big. Amazing.)


I love my fiance.

And I love this old picture of her. I dunno why, but it's one of my favorites.


Forty hours of Cackilack.

That is all we got. We flew home on Friday night and came back early this afternoon. We scouted the wedding grounds, hung with the parents / soon-to-be-parents-in-law, and used my new business camera.

Now I'm just wishing the Yankees (baseball team) would lose.


At least it will grow back.

I went yesterday and got an awful haircut. It was at Floyd's 99 Barbershop. It was the second time I'd been. The first time I got a rough one as well. But as with a line, you don't know what the deal is with it until you've got at least two points. And after the second point, I realized I'm not going back. Apologies to those who will have to look at the back of my head (and the near scalping behind my left ear).

The worst part is that you can't do much at the barbershop. You look at it, from afar, and it's all mussed up and glossy and you can't really make sense of it. Then you pay, then you go home, and in my case, you pay again. I wish there was a layaway plan, or a hold on funds until you approve the haircut.

I mean, I gave the lady a tip. Which says "I approve of what you are doing. As a matter of fact, I want to give you more than you are asking, just to show you how excited I am about it. By all means, use this as a directive: give every other guy in Boston the exact same, asymmetrical cut."

So now I am to blame. There will be hundreds, if not thousands, of other people who will go to this same young lady who will get marginal haircuts. And she might not ever know that she is doing a bad job. Cause who am I to ruin her day?

How I miss my friend Nick Rhodes, who does a bang up job in Raleigh. He's now at Primp Salon Bar. Go see him. It's worth the flight.


I gets around. And opening day.

I've noticed a house up a hill near Marianna's place a number of times. But it is up a one way street, and I've never really cared to find a way to get up there. Well, yesterday I ran some crazy route and ended up over by there. So I jogged up the hill.

Behold, the Round House.

It's in pretty bad condition. It might fall down soon. I dunno. But it looks pretty amazing.

It is opening home day for the Red Sox. They make quite a to do about it considering that they've already played 2 games in Japan and several others in Cali. But no big deal. The ball caps are out, everyone is pretending it is spring (even though you can see the player's breaths on TV) and there was a fighter jet flyover about 2 hours ago.

And we are up 3-0 at the top of the 6th.


If you can keep your head when all others about you are losing theirs.

I've got a couple of very optimistic friends from Atlanta who made a weekend trip up here. Dare I say it seemed like the worst trip ever. But they didn't seem to mind. And they kept smiling. And I shall tell you the abridged version of their trip, as I understand it.

Friday night, get to the ATL airport for a 6pm flight in an attempt to go to a job fair in CT. Flight gets canceled. As does another. Call Micah from the airport. Tell him you are delayed. Stay at the airport.

Wake up at 3:30. Go to the ticket counter. Find out you are on a 5:30 flight.

Get bumped. A few times.

Make a 9:30 flight. Arrive in CT at 1:30 (18 hours late). With no luggage. And no clothes in which to attend a job fair.

Cancel your trip to Boston on Saturday due to waiting on luggage.

Sunday, decide to drive on to Boston for a minute. Get a call en route. Luggage has arrive. Two days later. Arrive in Boston at 11:30, with no jackets, no toothbrushes but all smiles. Have brunch at the Other Side.

Drive back. Get luggage. Board plane at 5:30.

Here is to the Moffits. This BlogstonMass roadtrippers of the week.


I got 99 problems but my blog ain't one.

Last night I (Micah) went to the Jay Z concert at the Garden. It was pretty amazing. We had the Arnold box seats (pulled some strings at work and did some 'market research'), which happened to be next to the Patriots box of the night. Usually beside us are the Pawtucket Red Socks minor league players.

Not last night. No sir. I was rocking to the Hova right beside Kevin Faulk and Laurence Maroney.

It was interesting sitting by those guys. I noticed something, and I'm going to psycho analyze it. So please deal with my musings. So Maroney sat there, quite and with the exception of constantly blackberrying, not doing much as Jay Z went through some of his newer stuff. But when he launched into his old stuff, Maroney went bezerk. Knew all the words to a five minute stretch of music. This is what got me to thinking.

Seems we try to emulate those who are famous. But if we'd reach that same level of fame, we'd stop trying. Which is what was kind of bittersweet. That Maroney knew all the Hov's stuff from when he was younger and just dying to become known like Jay Z, and then when he got big and had more stuff to focus on, he quit trying to emulate...

I don't know if I'm making sense. But it seemed Maroney was happy when he was listening to music from 1999 that took him back to a time before he was famous.

And Faulk had a huge SuperBowl ring.

And I even saw this guy who is on the Karma Loop site.

And sorry for not posting lately. We've just been keeping it low key (read: boring) and planning for a wedding (read: not boring).