This has been a strange weekend. I thought I was going to have a reckless adventure commuting back and forth from Beverly to Natick on Friday - I ended up being frustrated by the commute and having quite a negative attitude.

I thought I was going to have adventures driving around Beverly/Peabody with Alexis in the evenings - I ended up getting quite frustrated at the sheer madness that is route 1 in the North Shore. A divided highway crammed with shops and restaurants on either side, but you can’t slow down to pick one because the speed limit is 50 which means there’s an SUV driver behind you going 65.

I realized that I talk so much about being reckless and fluid and flexible and spontaneous, but right now I’m just so bad with embracing new environments or frustrating cultural idiosyncrasies.

We ended up at a Chinese restaurant yesterday (after driving for 45 minutes just to get *back* to the restaurant after missing it on route 1). As I plopped down, this item on the drink menu resonated heavily with how I felt - and I ordered it because I felt like I had just been a suffering bastard all weekend instead of being the recklessly passionate adventurer I thought I would be.

Long way to go on this journey…

[by the way, that is one nasty drink. I guess the name indicates who you will become as you drink the foul concoction...]