I have come to associate Boston with somehow being both incredibly delighted and nauseatingly full. This is, of course, all Ritu's fault.
I could probably end the blog post there, but in the interest of posterity, I'll continue. I woke up at four a.m. thinking it was nine, but that was a trick played by my jetlag, so I slept fitfully until eight. Then I stumbled out of bed and talked to Ritu - we caught up on many tings while she force-fed me berries and yogurt and cheese and chocolate and tea and coffee. Then Bill woke up, at which point the champagne started, and didn't really stop until it was time to shower.
Our main plan for the day was a decadent 2:30pm 'brunch' at Bistro du Midi. I had two cocktails, tuna tartare, a delicious burger with goat cheese, and some sorbet, and was thus completely stuffed. At that point my body thought it was eleven p.m., and so when Ritu suggested that we walk in the park across the street from the restaurant, we walked for approximately five minutes before I sat down and then promptly took a nap in the grass. #noregrets
Eventually, I forced myself awake (Bill also fell asleep, and Ritu amused herself by taking pictures of us, apparently). Ritu's friends Anne and Dan showed up, and we started talking, and kept talking until I suddenly demanded water so that I wouldn't die. So we walked down the street, I drank water from a public fountain and probably got cholera, got some more water at a Nespresso store, and then took the train toward Ritu's house, where we all went to a bar and sat outside and enjoyed conversation and tater tots. It was a perfectly gorgeous, summery day in Boston (mid-80s, which made for a great night), so we sat outside until it eventually started sprinkling, and then Anne and Dan went home.
Of course, Ritu couldn't let us stop eating after that, so Bill, Ritu, and I went down the street to a cook-your-own Japanese barbecue place. I was still so full that I had a sprite and some miso soup and a bit of rice just to get Ritu from trying to force me to eat anything else (this strategy was only marginally successful). Then we came home, Bill expressed shock at the amount of washi tape I've been traveling with, and we listened to a bunch of Billy Joel.
And now I must sleep - goodnight!