Before I went to Boston on Thursday, I was concerned with the four-hour trip on the Chinatown bus with Pough (both ways!) and upsetting his friend Nick (who recently broke up with someone) with our coupley ways.

Well, I shouldn't have been concerned. The Fung Wa bus was AWESOME. Pough and I were perfect co-travelers, holding hands while listening to separate Ipods. We enjoyed each other's company all the way there by making random Fung Wa jokes and counting the miles to a rest stop in Connecticut to avoid the bus bathroom.

Boston, I suspect mostly because of our host, sucked. We went to Nick's in Cambridge (home of Harvard and more schools than you could shake a stick at) on Thursday night, and everything seemed fine. Then Friday, Pough & I hung out by ourselves all day while our host was at work, getting lost and then spending the afternoon in a local watering hole which, to our dismay, did not have "Born to Run" on its jukebox.

But Friday night? Dud, except for fantastic thai that Pough & I were too drunk to appreciate. Saturday night? Pough and I got in one set of music I really dug (old folk/bluegrass tunes) at a cool bar while watching Nick and his new girlfriend Amanda pass esoteric notes to each other. Sunday? I whispered, "let's get the hell out of here" at 10 am when Nick kindly reminded us it was getting late.

On the Fung Wa back, Pough and I discussed the trip and the weird vibe we were getting from Nick. We didn't necessarily feel unwelcome, but he wasn't rushing to show us the things that we wanted to see either, or do the things we wanted to do (go out for big breakfasts and be lushes with the locals, hearing thick accents along the way).

We barely went in to Boston, which is a problem for me. When I visit a major city, I want to see the things I know and the elements/neighborhoods/sights that make it unique. We barely went to Boston Common, and I would have loved to spend more time in its funky neighborhoods rather than walk for hours around Cambridge back and forth between Nick's apartment and the bars because he likes to walk (and I suspect is too broke for a car).

That being said, when Pough & I got back to New York we were happy even though our subway train was stopped forever because someone had a medical emergency and we ended up hailing a cab. When we sat down to watch movies on Sunday night, it was my favorite part of the weekend.

I still have my doubts about Pough (will I ever love him, or will I just break his heart?) but I'm keeping on the straight track with him, because maybe this could be it. Waking up in his arms for four straight days didn't bother me at all. This trip just makes me look forward to spending 10 days with him in June when we trek out to Wisconsin.