The weekend started with a trip to McFadden's pub downtown with Katie's friends who'd won free drinks there.  Aside from being far too loud, packed with uptight bankers, and having lousy service, it was a blast. 

We left when the freebies expired.  Katie lost her hat and almost lost a scarf.  She called to see if anybody found it, but I don't think McFadden's responded.

We had a late dinner in the North End at some Famiglia type of place that we'd been to before.  The waiter, whom we joked looked like a junkie, ripped us off when the check came.  I gave him $40 on a $25 check, and he walked right out the door without giving us any change!  After explaining the mishap with the other famiglia members who were milling about, they tried to call the junkie waiter to get our change back.  Eventually, we got everything straightened out (while the waiter must've been shooting up somewhere on our dime), but needless to say, we won't be returning to Famiglia Whatever's any time soon.

I watched my back while we returned to the T, thinking some crazed Italian waiter hopped up on heroin or jenkem would try to score more dough off of us naive youngsters.

I heard a noise in the back alley while sleeping and looked out the window at a creepy looking guy milling around suspiciously.  I freaked out a little bit when he looked back at me, then I turned away and thought about how I'd defend my turf from a crazed Cantabrigian high on jenkem, ready to rob the building.  I made sure the front door was double locked then fell back asleep, dreaming about kung-fu and ninja techniques to fend off imagined thieves.

Sleep wouldn't last long as Katie woke up to remember that she'd left a flaky appliance plugged in at her apartment and had to turn it off before it burned down her house.

Off we went, at 4:00am and half-asleep, driving 45 minutes north to prevent an unlikely accidental arson.  I volunteered to drive (rather than Katie's first choice:  taking a cab alone) because I figured that if she were wrong, and her apartment was intact, then I would always have this incident to make fun of her paranoia.

It was well worth the inconvenience.

(plus, who could say no to those puppy-dog eyes?)

After ensuring that the apartment was flame-free and unplugging everything in the place, we stopped at dunkin donuts for an extremely early breakfast (for me) and headed back to Cambridge.

Katie felt relieved, and I ridiculed the situation all the way home.

Saturday morning was brunch, followed by Margot at the Wedding at Kendall Square.

I thought the film had its moments, but it was flawed in a few ways:  no character development, characters who were hard to identify with, and actors who sometimes couldn't handle the weight of the writing.

Although I'd recommend Margot at the Wedding, I think The Squid and the Whale  affected me much more and was better executed.

I think Katie would agree with my assessment, though she's less critical than I am.  Mr.Cranky is my hero.

We played Scrabble, which I hadn't played in the longest time.  Katie came from behind and squarely kicked my butt at the end:  238 to 231.  I tried to weasel my way to a win by claiming that "zo" was a word, but a search turned up nothing, and Katie took home the title.

She's a formidable opponent and left me sweating from the pressure.  At least I've got bowling skills to fall back on...

The face of victory:

In an effort to defeat the cold and hibernate a little, we watched the excellent Syriana.  It's easier to follow on each successive viewing (3rd time for me), and we helped eachother pick up on different points that may have been confusing.

Disappointed with the loss of her hat?  or the CDs I said I'd already returned?  Who knows?

Sunday, we parted ways – I went to the Addison Gallery while Katie took some portraits of a friend. 

Then I wandered around Salem, NH for a bit before returning home to nurse a sore back and foot and to recharge my introvert batteries for a while.

Huzzah to an action-packed weekend of goodness!