a love letter to boston

Is it possible to have grown up in a city without ever having lived there?

I dreamt of Boston as a kid; I'd own a narrow brick home, Federalist style, filled with books and hope and a butler. And just when the loss of childhood logic revealed that "not all residents live as the mother from the 1961 Parent Trap did", my family vacationed there. It was a good one. We went on a duck tour, and my brother got to drive the boat, and the captain didn't even mind he was too young to do so. Later, my 8th grade class visited for American history's sake—our alternative to the traditional D.C. trip, since 9/11 had just happened. And soon enough, I'd decided I would go to college in Boston. I toured its universities more than once—the first time with my sister, my mom, her best friend and son. I told Chrissie of a memory I have from then: of my mom sitting next to my Aunt Donna on the T, singing some song from the '80s louder than any one ever should on public transportation; my sister and I laughing; Ryan inching away. And another time, with the college prep summer program I'd begged by parents to send me to. I marveled at a Mississippi boy marvel at hiking gear in Harvard Square, between campus tours. I considered what my future might look like. And though I was not then offered a spot in Boston College's Class of 2010, I spent a secret wonderful weekend nearby with a boy I'd soon fall in love as an undergrad at Syracuse University. Once graduated, heart broken, I would escape from the painful what-should-be that hung in the New York air. I'd be reminded of all that I was and had been. I had friends who lived in Boston then. I still do in fact.

I'd nearly forgotten these stories of such significance, until this past weekend, visting Chrissie. She just moved to Boston for grad school. We walked through nearly every neighborhood and drank too much wine and had all the teary heart-to-hearts. It was perfect.

bostonian appeal

When I was a little girl, I wished to live in Boston. I couldn't help myself after having seen how lovely life in Beantown could be in The Parent Trap. A family vacation later proved the fact. Eventually, that wish developed into a collegiate hope as I set my eyes on Boston College. But that didn't quite work out; I was wait-listed at BC and instead had the most wonderful experience at Syracuse University. Then I road-tripped, backpacked, and accepted my first "real" job in New York. And now, of course, I'm moving to Paris. Although I haven't yet determined how Boston fits into the mix, my love for the New England city has hardly faltered. I feel so very fortunate to have so many amazing friends to visit there.

Friday, 6:30pm: wine, chips, salsa followed by sushi while party-primping.

Saturday, 11:00am: sunny stroll through South Boston.

Saturday, 11:30am: brunch at Mul's Diner: scrambled eggs with broccoli, hash browns, blueberry pancakes, and coffee with cream.

Saturday, 1:10pm: hiking up and down Dorchester Hill.

Saturday, 2:30pm: soaking up the sun while Kelsey read us magazine horoscopes.

Saturday, 3:45pm: a frozen yogurt snack.

Saturday, 6:30pm: socializing with gorgeous friends at a Brookline barbecue.

Saturday, 9pm: The Avenue's El Niño burger with sweet potato tater tots and a Sam Adams Brick Red. (Note: we missed the burgers at the barbecue.)

Sunday, 11:30pm: coffee date in Somerville with Katie and Liana.

Sunday, 2:00pm: late lunch at Passports: fresh lobster roll with side salad. 

Sunday, 3:10pm: Gloucester tour with Steph, Lauren, Elaine, and Katie.

Sunday, 3:25pm: a return to the Cape's beaches.

Sunday, 3:45pm: pre-driving snack: soft-serve ice cream twist in a sugar cone.

This past weekend was kind of perfect. I spent time with eight of my favorite friends (and sorority sisters) within or around Boston and had an absolute blast doing it. Whether or not I ever actually end up there, I am definitely already missing them now that I'm gone (and really going soon). Until next time, B.

better with beantown

Between the train, subway, and bus, I commuted 9 hours on Friday, for this:

I haven't been sharing much lately, but I've been going through a challenging time. It's been made clear to me that the phrase "when it rains, it pours" is not an exaggeration. I've been trying my very best to remain optimistic, to tell myself that "everything happens for a reason," to embrace the changes with an open mind and heart, and yet, all that "stuff" still gets to me. So, I ran away from it all... and into the open arms of friends that live a mere hop, skip, and jump away from New York (of course, that's on days when there isn't rush hour plus weekend traffic).

[photo courtesy of Tim Sackton]

I arrived to Davis Square at nearly 9pm and was soon greeted by smiling faces and pizza. My friends and I ate, drank, and spent time being merry in their new neighborhood. The following morning, I awoke to a glass of water, fresh brewed coffee, and donuts from around the corner.

They look delicious, don't they? I haven't had a donut in so long. Or rather, hadn't. We leisurely got ourselves ready for the outside world and headed over to one of the few places in Boston I'd had yet to wander in recent years, the harbor.

Katie and I paused momentarily to have a late lunch and refreshing beer at The Whiskey Priest. We sat in the shade while thoroughly enjoying the warmth. I couldn't have gotten luckier with weather this past weekend. Perfect for touristy photos, long walks, and dining al fresco.

We then strolled around more (on and off of The Freedom Trail) before going back to her apartment to get ready for dinner in Harvard Square. 

Our party of twelve waited for an hour and sat for two with more than twelve amazing margaritas. Considering my late lunch, I only had a salmon salad, but couldn't keep my hands away from the chips and salsa. Our experience at the Border Café was thoroughly delightful and not just for the food and atmosphere; these college friends I'd surrounded myself with are just great. 

So great, of course, that the night didn't end at a responsible 10pm. We stayed out laughing, dancing, and having lots of very intentional fun. 

Although Katie, Kate and I obviously slept in the next morning, we had caffeinated, hydrated, and walked off any semblance of a hangover by noon. We had a fabulous destination too, the SoWa Open Market. Between the artists, craft vendors, farmers, and food trucks, our wonderful Sunday afternoon was all but consumed by Boston's "original art and indie design market." 

We also stopped into one of the most incredible vintage stores in New England, or so I think: Bobby from Boston. The boutique had such beautiful vintage clothing for men and vintage menswear for women, and is a must-visit if any of the above is even just somewhat your kind of thing.

To continue our active afternoon, we meandered over to the Boston Common. And upon arrival, found a nice spot on a hill to lie back and people watch. Our relaxation only lasted an hour though. Before long, we were on our way farther into South Boston to meet other friends for the Pats game. For the record, I am so not a Patriots fan, but I do adore summer-style cookouts in the fall.

And all that brings us to this morning. My weekend host, Katie, had to work, so I had a leisurely solo breakfast of eggs, toast, and a borrowed book from her roommate's room. Afterwards, I packed up my things, hopped on the "T" and made one last visit to Harvard Square for one very important reason:

The phenomenal human being that is Mackenzie. She introduced me to her favorite tea shop and her favorite place to enjoy it and despite it being the first time we'd met, I'd been excited for our date all weekend. She is such a talented writer and is as cool as a person as she seems. Time flew by as we shared secrets and stories. I actually nearly missed my bus back to New York, though I didn't.

To be perfectly honest, again, this weekend was everything I'd hoped it be and more. I felt more carefree than I have in a long time, and even with all the fun, was still completely relaxed. Thank you, Boston, and the absolute best of friends that just happen to reside there, for reviving me. 

working the fire

Hi, chickadees. We interrupt the standard travel Tuesday to bring you back to Saturday morn :) let's go! After spending the night at Liana's boyfriend's house, I woke up early morning and immediately went to get my camera to look through the previous night's pictures as I waited for them to awaken. But I couldn't find it. It wasn't in my purse, on the dresser, wrapped in the covers, within the contents of my bag, and I began to freak out. How could I lose my camera, of all things? I tried to think of the last point I remember having it, but nothing came to mind.  I called every cab company within the Boston area to see if they had found one. I desperately wanted to go downstairs to check too, but I had yet to meet his parents and I didn't want to scare them with my hyper-anxious state. Eventually, Liana and her boy woke up and helped me in my search. He called his friend whose house we had went to after the bars, nothing, and then he hypothesized that I had left it in the park we'd stopped by on our way home.  He quickly called back his friend to ask him to drive by and check.

And there it was: my silver Canon camera, still sitting on a park bench, at 1:30 in the afternoon--nearly ten hours since I'd carelessly left it there in the first place. Oh my gosh, I cannot even express to you the relief that rushed over me! I don't know why or how I got so lucky, but I'm thankful, oh so very thankful for it, and I fully intend on passing it along as soon as the opportunities comes around. Eventually, I was able to enjoy the spinach, portabello mushroom, and goat cheese crêpe as well, plus a refreshing iced green tea.

Following breakfast, I said goodbye to Liana and her boy and hit the road again. Nope it was not time to go home quite yet, I was just heading over to Kate's house in Sudbury, Mass. Upon arrival, she had a fun evening plan for us: catch up in her sun room, bike ride through her town's historical sites, and then make dinner.

If you click on the photograph above, you will see that it is a dedication to the children's classic, "Mary had a Little Lamb." Why? Oh, you know, just because there actually is some truth to the nursery rhyme and the school house for which it takes place is located in Sudbury. For as much as I didn't love history class, I sure loved seeing it with my own eyes.

It really was too cool. I had no idea that such a place really existed! 

As we continued, we also saw a traditional outdoor wedding, the Wayside Inn, and the Grist Mill. Kate said she'd been wanting to do a historical bike ride like it for a while and couldn't think of anyone that would actually enjoy it with her, but me. She knows me so well :).

But, as soon as we returned back to her house, and were faced with our beastly hunger, our plans to make a chopped arugula and strawberry salad with a whole-wheat artichoke and pecorino pizza (recipe courtesy of Whole Living) were nixed for the small Mexican restaurant nearby. I had a margherita and spinach enchiladas, both eh; the drink was strong and the cheese in the plate, overpowering. That's not to say, of course, that I didn't enjoy myself.

Following dinner, we took an unplanned nap and then met these crazies at Lansdowne pub ;). We arrived late, especially for Boston time, so we went straight for the bar to get drinks. Let me please just say that ordering a Guinness is a sure-fire way to make new friends, they might even be from Ireland, and then offer you whiskey to drink with it. Don't worry, it's okay if you politely refuse after the first sip, but at least wave every time you pass them for the rest of the night. Anyway :) in addition to humoring ourselves with them, we also danced the night away to a live cover band that was very nice to watch.

And as Kate and I walked back to her car at early morning, we took one last picture in front of enemy territory otherwise known as Fenway Park. As for the actual fourth, we leisurely spent the morning with her wonderful family.

By one though, we made the most of America's Independence with a trip to Concord, Mass. an adorably quaint all-American New England town with a ridiculous amount of historical significance.

The old colonial houses were absolutely gorgeous! You can just see how much time and care were put into making them and most have plaques with their previous owners of the 16th century. The one above was my favorite.

Soon after, we walked through the quiet center of town. Kate was shocked with how little people were out and about, and how most of the stores were closed, but I was content with the unexpected. For me, the worst part about visiting tourist spots is, well, all the the tourists. I hope I'm not the only one that dislikes people ;).

For the next hour, we browsed through antiques of all kinds and devoured the most delectable cups of homemade ice cream (fudge chocolate for me, moose tracks for her), until it was time for me to head out once again.

Before I left, however, my gracious host offered to make me a quick lunch: a vegan burger over spinach and fresh tomato topped with a balsamic vinegar reduction and grilled onions. Yum, yum, yum. 

Satisfied, I drove over to Newport, Rhode Island to meet my family for dinner and fireworks. But alas, they were no longer at the beach where they'd told me they were spending their entire day. They were back at their hotel in Providence. I think I cried a little at the news. Newport is gorgeous, but I had gotten caught in a bit of traffic on the way town and rolled right on past the easier-accessible Providence. Hmph.

My determination for a real meal and a traditional Fourth of July celebration, paired with a few "please, please, please" pleas from my younger brother, led me back there anyway. Forty minutes later, I met the family at Joe's American Bar and Grill. I was not impressed with the chain status of the restaurant, but it was certainly appropriate, and one of the few eateries that were open on a Sunday holiday night. I enjoyed a glass of Parducci's Pinot Noir (organic) and a Grilled Chicken and Wild Green Salad (shrimp obviously served as the substitute).

And last but certainly not least, my brother and I went back to my roadtripping car to make one last stop at India Point Park. The fireworks were beyond amazing, so much so that my brother thinks they're the best he will ever see in his lifetime :) and neither of us are big firework fans to begin with. My weekend in Beantown featured a lot of time outside of Boston and I loved every second of it. I know Boston reasonably well, I've seen all the sights, but spending time with the best of friends and family never gets old. I hope you had a happy holiday as well.