Rally Hopping

I'm in this photo, somewhere between the two signs to the right of the lamp post on the left. Saturday was a banner day for me in terms of sheer busyness, with a trip to the gym first thing in the morning, followed by feeding a coworker's kitty cat, followed by breakfast, followed by one global warming rally in Davis Square, followed by a stop at my apartment, followed by wonderful spring rolls eaten in the hallway of a combo sandwich stand/jewelry shop in Chinatown, followed by another global warming rally in downtown Boston, which Dr. Moo and Tess came to, followed by more cat feeding, followed by dinner out, followed by seeing smoke coming from the general vicinity of where I live with speeding police cars and fire trucks and speeding me, thinking, holy shit, my bunny.

By which I mean my kitty. But it turns out it was at a place a couple of streets over and it looked like nobody was hurt. Moo wanted to watch it. She's also gone to a mob trial. We walked by the house this morning and it was the attached garage that was toast, as opposed to the house. It didn't make the news.

In other McPolack news, I passed by yet another dead bird, a seagull with a broken neck, and it was making me so sad that I said to my sister, let's pick it up, and then she picked it up for me, saying it was awkward for everyone, and I said it was undignified for the bird, and now he's in my trashcan outside and I feel much better that he is there as opposed to out on the sidewalk.

I've said a lot and the only thing I've got left is this: PBS might not be the greatest Friday night date, especially if you watch three solid hours of depressing documentaries on how hard it is to be an overweight person followed by one on Jonestown that concludes with listening to a recording of Jim Jones yelling while babies are crying and people are screaming because 909 of them are commiting suicide rightthen.

Criminy.