Last night I drank good wine out of a Sigg bottle in the back of a bus, nearly toppled onto a stranger on the T (not out of drunkenness, I just forgot I’m incapable of standing on a subway), saw a Invictus and decided to start a new religion under the premise that Morgan Freeman is God, wandered around Boston in the “feels like 8” twenty degree weather, window shopped at Chanel, Ralph Lauren, Donna Karen, and Marc Jacobs at two in the morning, missed the 2:20 bus, found a 24 hour convenience store (purchases: hot chocolate, a turkey sandwich, banana moon pie, bleach), and caught the 3 o’clock bus back to Swellesley Wellesley. It was a good night.