I don’t know why, but he just is:

turn into a prince:

I’ve been writing about skiing up on this blog for a while now.  In a way I think skiing is the best thing that ever happened to me, but in another way I find it completely hilariously ridiculous.

This past weekend’s ski trip was to Vermont, a place I haven’t visited since I was 10 years old.  The bus LEFT at 5am, so that meant I was out of bed at 3:45 in the morning.  Now getting up at 3:45 is like not going to sleep at all.  Unless you are jet lagged, getting up at 3:45 never means you got a good night’s sleep.  It means you shut your eyes and cat napped but didn’t technically sleep.  And that was just the beginning.

You never realize how early 3:45 or 4:30 in the morning is until you are actually somewhere at those hours.  Streets are abandoned.  Most people are asleep, although I saw a guy sitting in his living room staring off into space at that hour, but most of the world isn’t up yet.  And then you are riding a bus at 5am and it is still dark and won’t become light for many more hours.  You doze off, you dream and you wake up.

My first sight of Vermont was a sign that said “Moose.”  We went by it so fast I didn’t snap a photo, but I was curious what the sign exactly meant.  Was it to signify that moose were nearby or would shortly arrive or that I should watch out for them.  But then we get to our destination:

The skiing in that place was absolutely amazing.  And the scenery wasn’t too bad either.  With skiing, not only does it make me happy, but I also realized something really great about it.  I won’t be good at it for years!  And I have no one to compete with or try to be better than.  I’m just there to take in the view and see what I can do on the skis.  Not much else.  And the views in skiing are always fantastic:

Now I sit here, stiff body, tired as hell.  Contemplating my next ski trip…

Get on bus.  Point bus really north.  Ski over.  Stand back and admire:

I think that this part of Boston should be renamed Odd-ston on account of the fact that the buildings here feature some incredibly strange things.  And of course because a man surgically Dumpster dives in front of my house every morning and evening.  I know, because when I get up at 5 to ski, he’s already been out there for a while.

Odd.

Well, anyway, I do sincerely love Allston.  It has a crooked charm that really makes for a pleasant living experience.

So, let’s take a lot at its many oddities, but this time by night:

First up, an acupuncture place that tells the truth:

Next, reptiles.  Neon reptiles:

Dueling Guys Fawkes masks.  At a barber shops:

And lastly this.  If someone could please tell me if this sign has anything at all to do with ravioli, I’d really appreciate it:

The bulldog.  The dog that is perpetually sticking his tongue out at you:

But through my camera, it looks like this:

Well, I didn’t actually steal it, but I took a photo of the photo and I altered it: