Fleece

M got me this awesome fleece-lined hoodie sweatshirt, and this thing is thneed-like in it's usefulness.

The plane was only half full, so I had plenty of room. I always find the armrests and seats of planes a bit uncomfortable for leaning, so I put the sweathshirt up against it, pulled the hood over my eyes, and was unconscious until we landed.

I got to South Station pretty easily, but had an hour to wait until the train. I found a bench, pulled the hood up again, and completely shut out the early morning commuter traffic until it was time to board.

On the train with a cup of ABP French Roast and a balance bar (techically 2, since the first one I tried was stale and I had to get rid of it), I relaxed for the hour ride and just looked out the window.

Hi, New England, it's nice to see you again.

A few years ago, I was in Hull, Quebec - just over the river from Ottawa. It was a quiet stay, and I spent a few nights just chilling at the hotel bar, talking to the bartender about stuff and being somewhat annoyed that every drink had to be measured by ounce. One night, an English woman and her son were there as well, and they were up from MA. I asked them if they found it weird at all being in a place called "New England" with all these place names the same as back home. They said they hadn't really thought about it.

It seems pretty surreal to me, though.