the end of a short affair

Last week in Boston. Last few days, really, as I am leaving on Saturday. Saying goodbye to people and places: making pasta from scratch with E.G. and R.R.; going to see M.D.'s play; shabu and frozen yogurt with H.; lunch at Dave's Fresh Pasta with M.D.; drinks on Friday with E.G. and R.R.

Today I got a soy mocha at Cafe Vanille and then wandered around Beacon Hill. What a beautiful neighborhood. Neither pictures nor words do this area justice. I am completely transported when I walk around this historic place with its cobblestone streets and rich red-brick rowhouses. It is especially beautiful in the Fall when the houses are complemented by a chill in the air and trees that appear to be on fire due to the bold colors of their leaves. So New England. Such a perfect Autumn day.

It was hard, but I finally broke myself away from Beacon Hill to visit the Charles River. I sat in a wooden deck chair and watched the Red Line shuttle back and forth between Kendall/MIT and Charles/MGH. I remembered the first time I walked by the Charles with L...

I continued to walk along the river bank. I rode the flying fox (mini zip line) beside the playground. I crossed over the Charles River to Cambridge and walked down Massachusetts Ave to Kendall Sq. Then Central Sq. Then I meandered until it was time to meet C.L.J. at Baraka Cafe. Rose lemonade is amazing.

After dinner we had Toscanini's, of course. We talked for so long, and then she rode off on her bike towards Kendall and I hopped on the T back to Somerville.

notice

Dear City of Boston,

I think I have had a missed connection with you. I have been working and (sort of) living within your city limits for a little over a year now, but I have never felt a true sense of belonging.

When I ride the T I watch the interactions that occur between people and often what I observe makes my heart sink; impatience, people obstinately refusing to be courteous to others, rude obliviousness, and uncalled for aggression.

I was in San Francisco recently and during rush hour on the subway someone had the decency to ask if I had enough space and offered, without my prompting, to put their bag on the floor if it would be more comfortable for me.

According to a poll of public transportation riders Bostonians are happiest when they experience less hassles in their day. On the other hand, San Franciscans are happiest when they have more uplifting experiences in their day. I am definitely happier when I have more uplifting experiences, but Boston is changing me into a person who is more concerned with hassles.

I am seriously considering getting out of here and moving to San Francisco.

Boston, what do you hold for me?

Sincerely,
A.R.P

nothing is as effective as defeat

After several interviews and much enthusiasm I found out yesterday I did not get my dream job at Mass. General Hospital. Hurumph. I told myself if I didn't get the job it was time to leave Boston; I am not completely content here, I don't currently have any job prospects here, and I am young and unattached in all ways. Time for an adventure, I guess.

The job in Maine is still a possibility. When I was in 6th grade I dreamed of living there. Granted instead of a scientist I fancied myself as a writer living in a beautiful, old house with huge bay windows and a sheep dog to keep me company/warm, but dreams can be altered.

So, Maine, will you be my new home?

Or perhaps the Bay Area?