Monday, September 12, 2011
I Left My Heart in Boston
My blog has been a real downer the last little while, and for that I don't apologize. Life isn't always sunshine and optimism, and if you believe that you're kidding yourself. That also doesn't mean that negativity needs to rule your psyche, it just means that sometimes things are hard, and it's fine if you want to vent about it on your blog.
Despite all the dialysis drama that's been happening lately, I got myself out of town last week and went to Boston to visit my brother and sister-in-law and nephew, also known as Tim, Corinne, and Thomas. I was pretty psyched because I'd never been to Boston before and I love the East Coast (I believe I'm meant to live on a coast, either West or East, none of this enclosed mountain valley crap for me) plus I could use a break from everything that had been going on. My parents and I flew to Boston on the 2nd, and Tim met us at the airport. We immediately picked up our rental car and proceeded to Tim and Corinne's house in Waltham.
I find that I never miss the mountains when on vacation. As a general rule I try to vacation in places that don't have tall mountain peaks. Driving down the Mass Pike I discovered this was still true. I love a good skyline, and even though it may seem unnatural, I love a skyline that's all buildings way more than nature.
Whilst in Boston we did all the usual things: Freedom Trail (sort of. Naturally it was raining on the day we were going to walk it so we became pretty picky about our stops), Old North Church, Mike's Pastry in the North End for pretty amazing cannoli, Legal Sea Food's, Fenway for a Sox game (witnessed a grand slam, the one thing that can make baseball interesting for a minute or two), Harvard, Boston Common and the Public Gardens.
I love America. And I love history, so it was pretty neat (That is neat!) to see the Old State House where the Declaration of Independence was first read to the people of Boston, and sort of see where the Boston Massacre took place. It happened right outside the Old State House, and it turned out to be a giant misunderstanding over a wig bill. We couldn't really see the spot because it was under construction. I didn't think there would really be blood on the cobblestone anyway. We ate lunch at Quincy Market and gazed at Fanueil Hall, sat in the enclosed (and still used) pews of the Old North Church, went to Harvard Square where I saw with mine own eyes the ivy covered walls of excellence, pomp, and academia.
We had the best seafood. Really, I don't know if it can be beat. Fresh, huge lobster at Woodman's of Essex, and of course fried clams, since that is where fried clams came into being. The most amazing calamari you've ever had at Legal Sea Food's, as well as amazing everything else at Legal. English pub food at John Brewer's, and who knew that Boston was such a pizza city? There were a lot of options if you wanted pizza. I did not, however, have a Fenway Frank at Fenway Park. Instead Tim and I had Fenway Fried Dough and Cokes, just what one needs to make baseball great.
Went shopping on Newbury Street- where it cost more to park for 2 hours than I spent at H&M- and in the Prudential Center and Copley Place. Visited Gloucester and Salem and Cape Ann on Labor Day and bought a lobster sucker at the Woodman's gift shop, where one can purchase a "Woodman's of Essex" shirt for your dog.
I spent a lot of time hanging out with Tim, Corinne, and Thomas, staying up to watch TCU get beat by Baylor with Tim, talking sports and inadvertently showing Thomas his first football game, a right that was supposed to be reserved for a BYU game. The game I watched with him was not a BYU game. We celebrated Tim's birthday and the big news they shared with us. Took Thomas to the beach for the first time. He was not crazy about the temperature of the Atlantic. Also took Thomas for his first T-ride. He was less than thrilled.
When the week was over and it was time to go, I worked real hard to not cry, or let anyone see that I was ruining my makeup with tears. Saying "so long" to Tim on Newbury Street was sad. I'd forgotten how much fun we have together, and how well we get along and bond over sports. Biding farewell to Corinne and Thomas an hour later in Waltham was just as hard. It was nice to be able to connect with Corinne on a level we've previously failed to achieve, and Thomas- that darling, sweet boy was the light of my life for the week I spend in Boston and it broke my heart to have to say goodbye to him. Even now, writing about it, I'm blinking back tears.
When we boarded the plane and waited for takeoff, I put in my ears and listened to "Leaving on a Jet Plane". I texted Tim and quoted lyrics from the song: "I'm leaving on a jet plane, don't know when I'll be back again. Oh [guys] I hate to go." Those lyrics epitomized what I was feeling. I wasn't ready to come back to Salt Lake. I didn't want to. I wanted to go downtown and find a tiny apartment and fly by the seat of my pants in the city. I felt like I belonged in Boston, like it was where I was meant to be, and leaving it to go back to a place I seem to barely tolerate left me feeling empty and "so lonesome I could die". But I know I'm not meant to stay here, and I really think I'll make it to Boston when the time is right.
In sum, it was an amazing trip. Sincerest thanks to my parents for taking me and paying for pretty much everything and for buying me that Red Sox sweatshirt I really wanted. And to Tim and Corinne and Thomas for letting me stay with them and for showing me the glories of Massachusetts and pumpkin donuts at Dunkin'. It was a nice reprieve from my current state of being. Boston, I'll be back.
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