Squeeze the Lemon. Squeeze it hard.

"Squeezing the Lemon." The Oxford English Dictionary defines this phrase as this:

"The acceleration through a traffic light that has turned yellow (traditionally meaning to slow down) in hopes that one might beat so one may not run a red light (traditionally meaning stop)."

Apparently, I am the only one who uses this old phrase. While driving through Boston I did what all Massholes do... lots of U-turns and running speeding up at yellows and occasionally running a red ("Bleeding the Baby")... but I just confused Krista when I would scream, "I'm going to squeeze the lemon!" The first couple of times she didn't' say anything... but after the third time she spoke up and said that I was crazy and the phrase doesn't exist. My uncle also hadn't hear the phrase before so I'm led to believe that I'm the only one in the country who uses it. Enough of this jibberish.

We spent our morning in JP hanging at a coffee shop blogging about our recent adventure until we got bored and decided to make our way up to the top of the Arboretum (but not without getting lost... "it wouldn't be Boston unless you got lost"- Jeff Tweedy) to do some writing and take in some of the nature.



















But as we were taking in the sweet smells and sounds of nature we came upon a very strange sight. It looked to be the next big thing in recreational sports.



I'm not quite sure what to call it... but I'll say, "Cross Country Pavement Skiiing". The video isn't of the best quality... but you can sort of tell what its like. It seems like rollerblading... but only using polls to push you along... probably to work both upper and low body strengths. Either way, it looks fucking retarded.

We made our way down to Providence very soon afterwards where (without fail) we got off at the wrong exit and drove around some neighborhoods all willy-nilly until we decided to call my good friend Daniel Colins Hanafin for directions to his house. Fortunately, we had gotten ourselves lost in the general vicinity of his house, which, strangely enough, is right next to a big castle (no really).

Confused and hungry we went out to eat at a mexican eatry which I thought was a tattoo parlor at first because the neon "taco" signs really did look like they said "tattoo"... I don't care what anyone says... but this was after we had awkwardly stumbled into another mexican joint across the street from the tattoo parlor/mexican eatry we intended to go to. Supposedly, Dan and his roommate Tony were flagging us down from across the strett but we didn't see them. So, we had a few awkward seconds with the employees of this new taco joint and slowly slipped out (leaving Josh behind for a second... he probably saw someone he knew) and crossed the street to enjoy our cheap-ass burritos, quesillas, tacos, nachos and other delicious treats no-one can seem to pronounce.
The AS220 gig was great. Its such a great space and I'm so happy/thankful that we got to play in it with such great people: a girl named Alex and a guy name Brad (also know as the Deaf Reverand). And yes, I did take a poll of the "Squeeze the Lemon" phase and nobody else knew what I was talking about either. Case and point.

























I think that's about it. Time to head to New York. Here are your random pictures for the day. The Chevy vomiting up our gear into the streets of Providence, RI.















Cheers,
Luke