Best Friends

From last Sunday to Wednesday, I had a little slice of London back in my life in the form of a friend of a friend who became a friend himself. The title of this post actually references the last post I wrote that involved him, and the joke that grew from it. I know only a few people get it, but I enjoy alienating people in my life. so there you go. So this guy I met and bonded with last semester flew in to America and stayed with my family for a few days, making me actually feel normal for a bit. Considering the friend who lives closest to me here is about an hour and a half from where I live, it was amazing to hang out with someone who wasn't my parent or a middle-aged woman I work with, silently judging me. But considering this friend is from Austria, it was up to me to represent the pure awe-inspiring might that is the United States. I did my best.

On Monday, after sleeping in a little to recover from a late dinner and general fun-times-having with Emily in Boston the night before, we drove down to the beach. Despite the presence of quite a lot of people (we all know how I dislike them), it was pretty great. I'd gone to that beach with friends last year, but that was in early June, when New England was still hanging on to Spring desperately. In August, New Hampshire has already given up the fight and concedes to Summer. So it was nice. We both got sunburned, then drove up the coast a bit to have massive ice creams for lunch, where I also made a friend with an oddly colored seagull. As I do. When we got back to my house, after liberally applying lotion to try to assuage the burns, we got to work on dinner. And when I say "we got to work" what I really mean is "Dai did all the work making a real Austrian dinner while I stood there and watched." But he made real schnitzel, which, I was suprised to find out, is not just slices of meat. Four years of high school German, total lies. After dinner, we walked up to a local park, where a slow-pitch softball game was in progress, which I proceeded to attempt to explain. Turns out explaining generally a game you grew up playing and understanding the intrinsic details of is actually sort of hard. But at least by that time the sun had set, giving our skin a rest.

On Wednesday, we woke up and headed out to have breakfast at Ihop, which turned out to be the best decision of life, ever. Always have breakfast at Ihop when the option exists. But after that taste of heaven we caught the next train into Boston. After getting lost, we then proceeded on the *Sara Griffith Personalized and Fantastic Historic Tour of Boston* only a select few have ever been taken on. Basically this tour consists of following the Freedom Trail, with me spouting of various historical anecdotes, sprinkled with colloquialisms and sporadic expletives. I get worked up about history. The day consisted of my ranting, getting lost and caught in the rain a few times, billboards of large Italian men in the North End, stopping for food or drinks many times, and my flicking off the statue of Christopher Columbus, one of my most hated historical figures. Because I'm classy.

But I really can't stand that guy.

And then we spent that night trolling Tumblr. All in all, completely fantastic.