We both got back this past Monday from the Oh Nancy show in Salt Lake City and gave ourselves until Friday to pack all of our belongings and start driving. And look, Boston, it's not ALL your fault. Just mostly.
Here I am packing up my studio leaving salty stains on the ink spattered floor. Except that I didn't really because I am so masculine all the time.
We had an impromptu going away thing Thursday evening after loading our "Door-to-door" shipping container with all of our earthly possessions (as opposed to the other kind of possessions?)
Pete and Nate were having a nice moment without me, so I decided to ruin it.
After everyone left that night at about 1:30 in the morning Keppie ran out of our room yelling "Someone lit our pod on fire!!" Which was true.
We decided that we should take turns watching the pod from our window until dawn, vigilante-style. I took first watch and ate sausages and tried to read a book in the dark with one eye. It was tired work and I gave up around 3:00am. Keppie slept through her watch and everything was fine. Probably because I watched so hard.
In the morning after our stuff got picked up (the Door-to-door guy found the fire hilarious and said something like "Ha ha ha! I've never seen THAT before!") we discussed the identity of our arsonist(s). Keppie thought maybe the bike couriers who lived downstairs from us had done it because of a beef they have with the Boston Pedicab company (Our buddy John pedicabs). Our (old?) roommate San thought maybe it was one of our friends who passionately objected to us leaving (we ruled this out because that behavior usually starts with peeing on a bed or someone dragging their ass across a carpet).
The theory I favor is that we were caught in a battle between the friendly Wah Lum Kung Fu studio downstairs from our place and some evil demon worshiping group from else where in Chinatown...