Beantown Diaries

I’m in Boston.

As I tweeted upon my arrival:

I’m in Boston, tweeps.  Hello Harvard Square.  Hello Newbury Street.  Hello stomping grounds of my misspent youth.

Whenever I’m in town, I always find myself remembering all the crazy shit I did when I lived just an hour, exactly, from this place.

What? What’s that you say?  You want me to regale you with crazy tales of my crazy exploits in crazy Beantown, Boston Mass, birthplace of the nation?  Just a hop skip and a jump from Lynn, Lynn, city of sin?

Well.  Have yourself a seat, little buckaroo, and I’ll dangle a couple tasty morsels of high school chicanery in your general di-rection.

Like the time I was waiting in Harvard Square for my best friend Kim.  I was fresh out of my first month and a half at Syracuse, on my way home for Thanksgiving break.  I was mohawked.  I was purple haired.  I was disillusioned youth-ed.  I was so punk rock.  I was going to hang out in Boston with my friend Kim for a day before heading home.  I was 100% rebel.  I was also going to Syracuse University on partial scholarship as an aerospace engineering major.

Right.  So in retrospect, I suppose the Boston street kid task force didn’t pick up on the whole engineering student vibe.  I tried telling them I really didn’t need any clean needles or a place to stay, thanks.  But the sandwich wasn’t half bad.

Then there was the time I totally ditched work the summer before I left for college and Kim and I headed down to Boston for a night on the town with some other friend of hers.  We went to a goth club and were gothy.  We emo’d all night long.  I met a boy named Derrick who I fancied.  He was very pale and full of angst.  WINNER!  I pined over him for a week or two, despite never seeing him again.  I remember walking back to my car, about 2 miles away.  Kim and our other friend were fast walkers, and sorta left me behind.  Drunk, you know.  So, I was walking down Comm(onwealth) Ave, at about 3am, essentially by myself.  I had my knife out, in my hand.  Ready.  Because I was not alone…and it was dark…and not well lit…and not a good part of town.  Plus, there’s the whole I’m-a-total-badass thing.

I also discovered Clannad that weekend.  Still, my favorite Irish band EVAR.  Maire Brennan is the shit.  Makes her sister Enya sound like a walrus needing an epinephrine shot.  (Total exaggeration there, in case you were wondering.  Enya is fab.  Just, her sister is More Fab.)

And of course there was the day I skipped school and Kim and I and a couple others (Kim was quite the bad influence on me, wasn’t she?  Wish I could find her 😛 ) We hung out on Newbury street generally being nuisances and having just a grand time being Not At School.  Being Not At School makes everything more fun.  It’s like…cinnamon.  With cherries on top, and a dollop of homemade whipped cream.

Now I’m here to visit my new nephew.  See my baby brother as a father for the first time.  Meet my sister-in-law’s parents, who are visiting from Brazil.  That makes them my inlaws, right?  Right?  Because I kinda like them.  Can I keep ’em?  I foresee a trip to Brazil in my future.  Who knows, maybe I won’t come back.

Anything’s possible.


Just look at everything that started in this little colonial town.

But I do miss Portland.

And my dog.

Now that the triptophan has worn off…

What I’m thankful for:

1. I have the dog I always wanted.  I just didn’t realize what I was asking for! 😀

2. My friends.  I have some of the best friends on the planet, bar none.  Period.  They may not always be there, we may have our moments where we disagree, or our lives are just misfiring, but that’s why I have more than one friend.  They all seem to take up each other’s slack.

3. My job.  As much as I complain and bitch and moan about how much it sucks, it’s still a damn good job.  Far better than many people I know.

4. My house.  This has been a long time coming.  I’ve dreamed all my life of owning my own house (ok not really all my life, but mostly since I’ve been in apartments).  I finally have a place of my own, that no one can take from me as long as I make my payments.  No one, ever.  I have final say in everything that happens, and no one has the right or the place to second guess me.  That is a mixed blessing, since now no one else is responsible for this property, but it’s worth it.

5. My family.  It’s not a bad family.  There are people in it I’m proud of, and people in it I’m not.  But they’ve known me longer than anyone, and that feels kinda good when you can sit and reminisce about stuff that no one else but the group of you remembers.

6. My mind.  Not that I’m smart, or witty, or even considerate or anything.  But I always am questioning.  Always.  And while that can lead me into trouble, I don’t often find myself second guessing myself.  But I am always questioning my direction, my motives, my desires, to make sure I’m on the right path, whatever that may be.

7. The universe.  It knows what the fuck it’s doing, even if I usually don’t, and remembering that always makes everything else better.  I just may not like what the plans are for me, but this life is not about me…it’s about the universe.  I learned that we’re here for one purpose, and one purpose alone: to live and love.  Learning from your past is just a bonus.

That’s a pretty good list.  There are many things I find lacking in it, but then my standards are way high sometimes.  Most of the things I find missing are things I find missing in myself, not in my life, and only because I’m not 100% sure of those things; like integrity, honesty and compassion.  I think I could have more of those things in my character.  And about 30 pounds less fat.  But no one’s perfect 😀

Home sweet home

I flew to Boston today to spend Thanksgiving with my family – my brother and his wife, and my mom.  It was a rough flight; a disturbing red eye from pdx to ny, layover in ny for about 2 hours and then a short hop to boston.  I was not too keen on the idea that I had to have a layover just so I could take a 45 minute flight from ny to boston, but a funny thing happened.

I landed in ny about 40 minutes late, stepped out of the plane and into JFK international, one of two airports in new york.  NYC, my hometown.  A place I haven’t been to since 1998, well before September 11th and all its insanity.  I stepped foot in my hometown, and felt my heart break.  At the same time, it felt good to be home, even tho it was in an airport I don’t remember ever stepping foot in (I think we always went to LaGuardia) and I was only there for about half an hour.

So to start off my next blog post…I’m thankful I had a layover in NY today.