So I'm back.
We shall see how long I can keep it up this time. I will admit though, I've kinda missed it. Even though there are only like 2 people who read this on a daily basis (those people being Caitlin and myself), I felt that my adoring public needed me. or at least the Facebook stalkers needed something new to peruse.
A lot has happened in the past 10 months...I moved to Boston, I'm almost finished my first year teaching inner city here, and I got a second job to support my habit (shopping, not crack- although I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say they are as equally addictive and dangerous).
I absolutely positively love living in the city. Despite the fact that my rent makes me want to cry and my apartment could double as a small linen closet in someone else's house, its all worth it. It's actually quite funny how I try to convince others (and namely, myself) about the amazingness (is that a word?) of my apartment by spinning each negative aspect into a "hidden luxury".
For example: 4th floor walkup? Great exercise for the butt, no stairmaster needed. No laundry in building? Fantastic! I'll save on my electricity bills! Astronomical rent for a place with no closet, yellow countertops and a gorgeous view into my neighbors apartmentl? How splendid! I'm doing my part for the economy while also learning fascinating things about human nature.
See? It's easy enough.
I live in the "Italian" section of Boston, well-known for its numerous Italian restaurants, pastry shops and old world charm (aka Paul Revere's House, Old North Church, the Freedom Trail). To me, that is sometimes code for creepy old Italian men who stare at you, ridiculously overpriced pasta and an unnerving amount of tourists who simply have no clue how to walk down the street. (Don't know where you are or where you are going next? Here's an idea: let's NOT stand in the middle of the sidewalk with a map the size of a billboard and spin around in circles, knocking the locals over with your fanny pack and camera bag.)
The perks are fabulous though. I'm within walking distance to any restaurant or bar I desire...and the nightlife is MUCH better than good ole Tallahassee, Florida. Although I must admit, while I don't miss Florida nightlife, my wallet does. Gone are the nights of penny pitchers, ladies free til 1 and $1 shots. They have now been replaced with ridiculously long lines everywhere past 10pm and drinks that cost $15 and come with a healthy side portion of sarcasm and/or self-righteousness. There have been many a Sunday morning where I've woken up to find I spent enough to feed and clothe a 3rd world country on vodka tonics and jager bombs.
Looking back over everything I've written, I can already see the differences in myself. It's been less than a year and I've already began the magical and personal transformation into the ever-loving, ever sought after, elusive, "Masshole" and I'm damn proud of it.