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The Haven for Bowling

Last night, in an effort to discover more of Boston than our couch, my housemates and I went bowling. Well, our first choice was to go to the oldest karoke bar in Boston, but strangely (for having that reputation) the bar only has karoke on Tuesday nights. At Bowl Haven ee played milk pin bowling, which has smaller balls and pins and slightly different rules than regular bowling. Unlike all of the alleys I visited during college, this one was well lit, and smoke, alcohol, loud music and shameless flirting free. Laura “I’m good at everything but skiing because of my Belzian background” Kaufmann won, shockingly, with Linnea “Thor” Minich, and Hope “Willow” Davis vying for second. I, being merely Keri “Red Raven” Lawrence sadly came in last. Hmrph.

Elk and I watched the Head of the Charles Regatta today. The weather was idyllic, although it served to motivate us to start working on turning on our heat. Perhaps we can just bum off the heat from the Bobos that live underneath us.

I interviewed with the elders this morning to join our church. Having never interviewed with a PCA church, I was unsure how to prepare. Should I wash my hair? Could I wear my Sasquach boots? Assured by my housemates that a lack of faith in Christ is all that could really come between me and the illusive church membership, I spoke with the elders. Very kind people and I think that all went well. This will be my first time since I became a Christian five years ago that I will be able to really plug myself into a church, and stick with it through thick and thin.

gettin’ her done!

Greetings friends. Tonight our house held our first true dinner party. In this small way, we have become part of the adult world. We invited our (intoxicatingly) witty neighbor, and a cheerful coworker of Hope and her husband. The table was set with yellow napkins, a fall bouquet, and pumpkin candles. Hope cooked a “lot of cod” with pineapple and onions, green beans, and Hope’s friend Jaime (a baker by trade) provided the quadruple berry pie (in a deep dish pan) and Smoking Loon wine (not Smoking Nude wine, as I first thought). During three hours of continuous laughing (partially due to the social lubrication brought on by three bottles of wine), we covered subjects such as Jaime’s conservative Christian mother, who was finally able to do things her way after the children left and dressed as a mentally retarded fat child and went trick or treating, to transvestites in India, to Chinatown experiences of toileting while holding an umbrella. I feel full and satisfied on a variety of levels. Due to poor planning on the part of my roommates, I was forced to do dishes – and a blooming lot of them there were, too.

Laura went to a bar to watch the Cardinals game, and later (after turning down several drink offers by the resident elderly bar crowd) returned home, discouraged and disgruntled. She retired to her bedroom as soon as she heard that her team was out of the runnings, and, as Linnea speculates, will probably never emerge until Spring Training 2006. We understand, friend. No, wait a minute, we don’t.

 

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