1. So today's attempt to clear up my insurance was a bust: I went to the office ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
derspatchel has been dealing with (which seemed like the right one to both of us!) and they were very sympathetic, but referred me to another office which closed at five o'clock. I will try it on Monday. After that, there was really nothing to do with the evening but drink a lot of alcoholic ginger beer at the Squealing Pig and see the Magna Carta at the MFA. It is actually extremely neat to look at, especially since it's housed in the same exhibit as John Adams' manuscript copy of the Declaration of Independence. There are two portraits relating to a Massachusetts abolition case I'd never heard of and contemporary newspapers with marginal annotations by their collectors. All of this is next to the room of maritime art, filled with eighteenth-century models of cutters and clippers and ships of the line and figureheads and scrimshaw and random bits of wood from famous naval engagements; we were substantially delayed on our way in. We didn't get to Jamie Wyeth, teenybuffalo, but I recommend the Pictorialists (my favorite portrait of W.B. Yeats! Aubrey Beardsley looking exactly like one of his own drawings!) and the Meroitic gold and jewelry to anyone who can get to them. I am a little sad that we missed the exhibit of avant-garde photography, but it's not like I've never seen Man Ray before.
2. My back is in absolutely terrible shape. We need a new bedframe. Where does a person buy a queen-sized futon frame in this city? Dream On Futon in Inman is no longer an option; we tried them right after Readercon only to discover they had flown by night without alerting the majority of the internet or altering any of their signage—they left their name lettered on the storefront glass along with the website and hours of operation, but the showroom was dark, locked, and empty, occupied only by a motorcycle and an Oldsmobile. Rob took some pictures and it was absurdist, but not actually helpful. Boston Bedworks is expensive. I am taking recommendations; I need not to be in this amount of pain every day. It's like all the physical therapy I practiced from January to April never happened.
3. I had no idea goat towers were a thing. I'm so happy to know they are.
derspatchel has been dealing with (which seemed like the right one to both of us!) and they were very sympathetic, but referred me to another office which closed at five o'clock. I will try it on Monday. After that, there was really nothing to do with the evening but drink a lot of alcoholic ginger beer at the Squealing Pig and see the Magna Carta at the MFA. It is actually extremely neat to look at, especially since it's housed in the same exhibit as John Adams' manuscript copy of the Declaration of Independence. There are two portraits relating to a Massachusetts abolition case I'd never heard of and contemporary newspapers with marginal annotations by their collectors. All of this is next to the room of maritime art, filled with eighteenth-century models of cutters and clippers and ships of the line and figureheads and scrimshaw and random bits of wood from famous naval engagements; we were substantially delayed on our way in. We didn't get to Jamie Wyeth, teenybuffalo, but I recommend the Pictorialists (my favorite portrait of W.B. Yeats! Aubrey Beardsley looking exactly like one of his own drawings!) and the Meroitic gold and jewelry to anyone who can get to them. I am a little sad that we missed the exhibit of avant-garde photography, but it's not like I've never seen Man Ray before.2. My back is in absolutely terrible shape. We need a new bedframe. Where does a person buy a queen-sized futon frame in this city? Dream On Futon in Inman is no longer an option; we tried them right after Readercon only to discover they had flown by night without alerting the majority of the internet or altering any of their signage—they left their name lettered on the storefront glass along with the website and hours of operation, but the showroom was dark, locked, and empty, occupied only by a motorcycle and an Oldsmobile. Rob took some pictures and it was absurdist, but not actually helpful. Boston Bedworks is expensive. I am taking recommendations; I need not to be in this amount of pain every day. It's like all the physical therapy I practiced from January to April never happened.
3. I had no idea goat towers were a thing. I'm so happy to know they are.
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