02:30
1 video
4 kuvat
Grading done, the city finally quiet, and the glasses are the only thing that survived the night. Everything else ended up in this set. Come tell me you'd have kept me company.
1 video
4 kuvat
Grading done, the city finally quiet, and the glasses are the only thing that survived the night. Everything else ended up in this set. Come tell me you'd have kept me company.
Shower survived, towel holding on by a committee vote, and the day wants me at a lecture podium by noon before Roadrunner tonight. The knot is negotiating. Pick a side?
Wicked is running at the Opera House all month and apparently it followed me into my afternoon lecture — my students got the composed version, the empty hall gets the rest. Come take the front row?
Insomnia put on Kamasi and now neither of us is going back to sleep — the show's at City Winery tonight and this is how I warm up. Tell me which track you'd keep for the encore.
Halloween had its night; today the dead get treated properly. Marigolds first, then the ofrendas across the water — an anthropologist's Sunday done right. Come carry the candles?
Three doors tonight — an open bar in the Seaport, a dance floor downtown, or a crawl through Fenway — and I haven't put a stitch on yet. Vote fast; my patience for being undressed doesn't last forever.
First knock of the night just cleared out, and my costume top never survived the doorbell — the candy bowl is doing more covering than the zipper at this point. Come ring my bell and tell me what you'd have worn?
The sugar-skull paint goes on before anything else does — tomorrow it gets a costume under it, tonight the mirror gets the whole show. Care to watch me finish the other half?
Costume passed final inspection, and now three parties want it Saturday — the museum ball, a bar crawl, or my couch with company. Tell me which one gets me.
Costume fitting went about as well as you'd expect — the ears and stockings survived, the rest never made it out of the bag. Two days to get this presentable. Care to volunteer as my fitting assistant?
Beat the crowds to the cranberry bog walk in Foxborough — an anthropologist never skips a working landscape, especially one this red. The flannel is doing its one job so far. Come get your boots muddy with me?