Back, from Boston.

So I was in Boston earlier this week, for the first time ever, and it wasn’t too bad. The place feels like a big museum, which has it’s pluses and minuses. Boston’s not a place that I’d ever tell my Tito Boy from Batangas that - when he’s traveling the East Coast by ferryboat - that he needs to visit or his life won’t be complete. There’s only one place I’ve said that about, and that was Napa Valley while in San Francisco. Granted, any place with lots of free liquor is easily at the top of my ‘places I need to be right now’ list, but even that’s a slight lie; “I didn’t once visit the Sam Adams brewery whilst in Boston. My priorities are like my shame: misplaced, unimportant, and never present when I’m drinking.

Anyway, I enjoy places that are more interactive. There was a lot of “oh look, this is from 1765″ and “oh wow, so 14 stories of ladder rungs, huh?” My interest in my country’s history is waning at best, and non-existant at most of the times. It’s an odd feeling to be in a place of such reverence and historical significance while craving a churro like there’s no tomorrow. Diminishing returns anyone?

It’s a Friday afternoon and I’m impossibly tired. Also, I’m coming off pretentious. I need to get some chicken wings, stat.