Worcester for ice cream and a taste of home

Visited Tri in Worcester to pick up some motorcycle boots off a guy on craigslist.  Afterwards we grabbed some lunch at my ol’ fave Wegmans!  I had to get one of their amazing subs, plus some chicken gyoza on the side (tots normal rite???).  By the checkout is a wall of cold beverages.  As I perused my eyes landed on something I grew up with, and only thought could be bought in New York:

We then went for ice cream at a place on the lake.  It was a little hot to be out in the sun, but the ice cream made up for some of it.  Tri, the Diva, didn’t want to be photographed eating so these were the only shots I got.

Lo-Riderz Shenanigans

Photos from hanging out at the shop with my Lo-Riderz family

 

Love is….

 

 

…A free burrito.

 

The burrito gods smiled upon me and finally brought Boloco to my state!  And what’s better than an impromptu trip to Boloco?  A FREE impromptu trip to Boloco!  Tri and I stared in confusion for a while when the guy taking the order told me to put my money away.  I asked him what the catch was, and if he was certain, but sure enough our food was free.  Who said there’s no such thing as a free lunch?  (It really is free right Boloco?  Like, you aren’t going to come after me for the taxes, clippings of my hair, or cheap labor that requires the use of small Asian hands necessary for making delicate stitches….rite????).

Now, when you eat out on the bike, you usually have to end up with a “gear table.”  A woman asked us if anyone was sitting where our helmets were, and if she could have the seat.  Neither of us thought anything of it and moved the gear onto the opposite seat to make room for her.  She then told us she needed the other seat too for whoever she was with.  So the dilemma  became accommodate a woman with a khaki shirt, teased hair, and her presumably as tacky companion, or NOT put $2,000 worth of gear on the floor.  Needless to say, the gear remained and khaki shirt took a walk.

Back in the Dirty Dirty

Per my usual I was able to spend 48 hours in Charlotte last week.  I’m shooting for 72 hours, maybe some day.  Of the 48 hours I spent there 16 were spent sleeping, with another probably 3 or so spent loading my truck.  BUT I was able to spend some quality time with a few of my friends.  Sorry I wasn’t able to see everyone, I promise a longer visit in the spring!

Don’t mind the 50 man eating spiders all around you

Treat time at the LaFave’s

This is how they transport scooters in the South

An Asian girl hanging out of a uHaul taking pictures, not sketchy at all right?

Hey there’s my dentist!

Clutch

Keep digging Ricky

Southern food!

My favorite place on the planet!

Heaven

Man with a guitar, man with something else…you be the judge

Cheese!

Seems optimistic

Last Boj for a while

Trapped for 16 hours…in this exact spot…

Useless

Totally legal, I had the car in park for the duration of the movie…

Must have been a track day nearby

Nice track day hauler

The Softer Side of Worcester

W-O-R-C-E-S-T-E-R, it’s pronounced Wuss-tahhh

Someone asked me one time what Worcester, MA was like.  My only recollection was the tour I did when I applied at Clark University, so my reply was simply “gray.”  Unbeknownst to me, there are nicer, and much gayer, parts of Worcester outside the hood.

this dude was mean mugging us

This is how geese do yoga

Asians are so weird….rite???

And le piece de resistance, a tower erected in honor of George Bancroft by his “friend” and “admirer” Stephen Salisbury III (I think we all know what that means…).

This was what the ancients used for a helipad:

And for a city I would never think to travel to unless necessary, they have a very nice train station.

Inside the train station I found what might be the last of its kind!

And although Worcester eventually did become as cold and gray as I recalled, it made way for…double rainbow!

Double rainbow all the way…

Coffee With Jason

Coffee with Jason is never just coffee with Jason.  For that matter, nothing with Jason is ever as it seems.  Every time we get together it’s always an adventure, and I’m usually the accessory to a crime.  Coffee with him today was no exception.

It started innocently enough at Wendy’s to try a Caramel Roaster.  While we were out we decided to try and find “river rocks” for his waterfall project.  Jason, frugal as always, was not willing to spend money for something found in nature.  As it turns out after a trip to Home Depot, river rocks aren’t all that easy to purchase anyway.  The gentleman helping us out had only been in that department for 8 months so was unable to assist us…So we followed the GPS to a body of water which took us into a neighborhood by a lake.  Some neighborhoods welcome you with a nice sign, stone wall, security gate, but this opened up to a roundabout with a small cemetery as the centerpiece.  Totally normal, I would love for my house to look out upon the demise of an entire family.

We went straight through to a path that lead to the waters edge.  Disappointed, all we found was stagnant water and no suitable rocks.

Well not true, we also found this under Jason’s car.  At least someone’s getting lucky.

On the way back to Wendy’s to pick up my car Jason missed the turn but lo and behold, rocks.  Sure there were private property signs, but we took the rocks that were before the property line…I think.

The Road To Graduation

It started with a bad breakup, dead end job, and an email from Emerson College that they would waive my application fee.  In what seemed like an instant, a year and a half has already flown by and here I am, an adult…kinda.  I had the pleasure of graduating with a very diverse group of oddly genuinely kind, and intelligent people.  I also truly enjoyed my professors, and often looked forward to going to class.

Ah Sweetwater.  There were many post-presentation celebrations here, as well as birthdays.

Group projects were a regular thing, but Capstone was the daddy of the mack daddy.  I feel like I bonded with my teammates in my last semester, as I imagine soldiers or firefighters do, when they’ve been in the trenches fighting the good fight.

“Do you think Chris’ dad is the KING of Thailand???”

About halfway through the semester we all let our hair down and learned that Chris may be the princess of Thailand, don’t cross Vita in the eleventh hour, Tino has the heart of a fighter, Karan can show great leadership even through hard times, and we all have an inner rapper (Go TZA!  Y’all know who it is!).

We spent many days and nights in tiny study rooms often sharing meals, staving off moments of brief insanity, and standing behind one another.  When it was finally said and done we all breathed a sigh of relief like none we had felt in a long time.  We laughed harder than we had in the last three months, and felt liberated.

How did we get here?

Finally  it all came together with one final ceremony and (hopefully not the last) farewell.

Thank god my limo showed up when it started raining.

Pets Killed by Injustice

Infuriating, disturbing, and ultimately heartbreaking

Justice for our pets is blind, deaf, and dumb. I’ve been hearing a lot lately about police officers unjustly shooting pets after the slaying of Cisco, a dog that was shot when a police officer showed up to the wrong address.  In many of these cases there wasn’t any formal reprimand for the officers involved.  One in particular that disturbed me was an instance where an officer thought that she had been bitten by a chihuahua (scary I know).  She shot the dog twice before she realized she hadn’t been bitten, after which she proceeded to shoot it another two times.  In my readings I’ve also found out that it’s often standard procedure to shoot all dogs when performing a raid, whether threatened or not. Where is the value to the life of an innocent pets? And where is the compensation for the lives taken when the police have the wrong address?

Not to take anything away from the preceding stories, but I held my dogs a little tighter today after reading about a dog named Mijo.  Mijo was mutilated by a neighbor wielding a machete, and succumbed to his injuries while trying to retreat to his house.  As of yet no charges have been brought to against the man responsible, a minister, a man of influence in his community.  Rights of the animal aside, a man who will go out of his way to hack a dog to death is a risk to society.

I can say without hesitation, qualms, or misgivings, that I would have to kill the person that would do that to one of my dogs.  And maybe someone like me doesn’t need to be roaming the streets either, but neither does a machete wielding psycho.  If he could do that to a dog, I can only imagine what he would be willing to do to another human, or child.

The other night the police came to my house to check out a strange car in my driveway, where two very “crackish” individuals were having a heated argument.  My first reaction was that I needed to safely secure my dogs inside to ensure their safety.  I know some good examples of respectable police officers, but it’s unfortunate that I have to fear for my pups’ safety when those who are tasked with protecting those who can’t protect themselves, are called.

Pizza Hut – Enter at your own risk

Horrified is the only word to describe my last experience at Pizza Hut.  Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t expect greatness when I go there.  It was after 9pm at night so choices were fairly limited.  However, armed with low expectations, Pizza Hut still managed to outdo itself.

So lets begin at the beginning.  My friend and I had to get our own menu’s and seat ourselves.  It’s been years since my last time there so I chalked it up to lack of experience in these joints.  Then we found out we had to go up to the counter to place our order.  This seemed odd because if my memory serves, when I was in high school my friends and I got yelled at by a waitress in a Pizza Hut.  Take it a step farther, they called us to come get our food and drinks when they were ready, and serve ourselves.  Now this definitely didn’t seem right.

Should I go on?  My friend pointed out to me that a little girl with a big ball of dough on her shoulder, walking around the restaurant playing with it.  A woman near us said she hoped that wasn’t going to be her pizza.  We found out that it was the owner’s daughter.

Grossed out yet?  We ordered the new crust where it has rolls of cheese that look like giant Combo’s on the outside.  My friend ate a couple of the rolls before realizing it was the wrong pizza.  When he brought it to the owner’s attention, he heard the following between the owner and chef:

Owner – Hey you gave me the wrong pizza!

Chef – Well did they eat any of it?

Owner – Just the cheese rolls.

Chef – Just take some others and put it on that one!

Low and behold, five minutes later we saw our first pizza walk out the door in the hands of an unsuspecting victim.  Needless to say we just tried to get out of there as quickly as possible.  That is, after eating our pizza out of the box because we didn’t have dishes, while keeping an eye out for the owner’s daughter’s hair.

This might possibly be the worst and scariest food service experience I have ever had.

Oh and don’t bother trying to file a complaint on their website.  Apparently the zip isn’t recognized on the complaint form.  Where or where did I get the zip code to this location?  Why, their very own store locator.

What was the worst part of grad school? The end

Isn't she adorable?

An ill fated parking spot for sure.  I went to the Boston Common today for a going away picnic.  Of course I love parking spaces by the pole so I can cheat over and reduce instances of door dings.  But as I pull in I see this beauty before me.  Reminder of what once was but faster, she steals my heart and is twice as black.  And yes, those are water spots all over my a-pillar…

Anyway, I didn’t call ahead because I’m an individual of reasonable intelligence and resourcefulness, surely it won’t be difficult to find a group of Asian students having a picnic at the Boston Common on a Saturday afternoon.  Right?

So maybe I’ll start here:

Or here:

Or maybe they’re on the other side?

So three or four phone calls later I found my group of Asian students having a picnic.  Since being Taiwanese is a prerequisite for being accepted in Emerson’s IMC masters program (I may have fudged my application…), many of the people I’ve become friends with are sadly moving away.  One in particular, Amy, will be leaving very soon.

We spent last summer creating a PR campaign to revitalize the city of Detroit.  It was a plan laden with brilliance, strategy, and the grace of God, hand crafted by us (and two white people…I forget their names…ha just kidding Nicole and Phil!  Love you guys!  Go team Detroit!–On the real I’m not racist, my last name is British).

I brought some fruit and crackers but I was really excited to see what kind of interesting and exotic food everyone else brought.

Notice that Wei is still engaged in his “hey Wei do something sexy” pose from this photo:

I did get to try an egg tart though, I think.  It was delicious and homemade!

I can say without any doubt or exaggeration, I’ve had the pleasure of experiencing grad school with a group of brilliant and talented people who will do great things.