I can't even begin to explain how successful this past weekend was. There were friends from New York and really good roommates. There was the Park Plaza bar and the Rattlesnake roof deck. There was the Boston beer marathon. There was a severe lack of food because sometimes you forget to eat when you drink all day. There were a lot of awkward moments and even some arguments. But I'm really starting to believe that that last sentence is what makes life interesting, and that it's only a sign of friendship. If I was spending the weekend in a city full of strangers, would either of those things be possible? Sometimes, it's exactly what you need to remind you what's important. I'm not saying I'm staying, but I just might be able to make it through the next six months...