I left Thursday night, Apr. 15, 1999, to catch an early Friday morning plane out of Dulles Airport. Destination: Boston, a city that I had not visited in more than three years and a city that my nutty friend and traveling companion, Jen, had never even been to. Sick of school and the stifling atmosphere of Williamsburg, Virginia, we booked our tickets and played hooky. And since Jen was traveling with me, a Chinese American pipsqueak with a penchant for too much adventure, "normal" was not about to enter our vocabulary that weekend...

Thurs. night, April 15:

The problem with going to school in Williamsburg is that it's a three-hour drive to northern Virginia, in turn leading to traffic congestion to Dulles Airport in Washington DC. So we had to leave the night before and stay at home to catch an 8:30 a.m. Friday flight. The rainy weather was horrid but that did not deter Jen and me from screaming, "We're going to Boston, woo-hoooooo!" periodically while bobbing our heads to LL Cool J, Coolio, The Spice Girls, Bewitched, and other recorded acts. (Sad, but true.)