I am in Boston. It is wonderfully hot and muggy.
I never, not ever, thought I would ever use the words "wonderfully" and "hot and muggy" in the same sentence.
I love being home.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Crap.
I lost my phone in the security line at SFO, and my plane was boarding and I didn't have time to search diligently for it and now I don't have a phone and I don't have an upgrade because my mom borrowed mine and how can I enjoy a two-week trip in Boston if there is no way for anyone to get in touch with meeeeeeeeeeeeeee????
New video soon.
New video soon.
Friday, July 24, 2009
A Tragic Tale
Enough of my own whining. A couple of weeks ago, I went camping with Sinny, Melissa, and Sinny's coworkers. One day, we hiked up to a gorgeous lake, where I captured on video a set of three truly tragic, horrifying tales. Behold:
The Tragic Tale of the Boring Dinner, Dragonfly Sex, and The Very Tiny Watersnake from Abbiebabble on Vimeo.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Boston on my mind
It's been a month. Sorry 'bout that. I kept coming across things that I wanted to blog about, but then life kept getting in the way. Now I'm back at my neighborhood cafe, thinking about job applications, and finally blogging again.
Over the weekend, I attended Lisa and Charlie's wedding. It was a gorgeous affair, and SO much fun. Now I think all of my friends should get married and have lovely lovely weddings and invite me. The wedding kind of freaked me out, though. Not in the way that I thought it would: this was the first wedding I've ever been to where it's my friends getting married, not someone's parents or an aunt or uncle, and I was fairly certain that the thought of all of us growing up was going to give me at least one adulthood-induced panic attack. Instead, the wedding made me reevaluate (yet AGAIN) where I want to live next year. Almost all of the Dartmouth people at the wedding either live in Boston or have lived there at some point. I spent a lot of time talking about my hometown, and at the reception, singing Sweet Caroline and Charlie on the MTA. The whole thing made me incredibly homesick.
On the way back to San Francisco, I had to change planes in Atlanta. As we were boarding, an airline employee came running over to watch everyone get on the plane. "I wish I were going with you," he said, "back to the Bay." He helped a woman in a wheelchair down the jetway. "Just because we're colored, you and I, doesn't mean we aren't from the Bay. I'll do anything for people from the Bay."
I understood exactly how he felt. I was boarding a plane for the wrong city. San Francisco is a wonderful and amazing place, but it's not home. I've made some really wonderful friends this year, but they're not my family. I'm not sure that I'm done with San Francisco yet, but I'm not sure that I'm not, either. I spend an awful lot of time missing people who live on the other side of the country, missing my favorite cafes, missing home. Today I freaked out because San Francisco summer weather is all wrong to me. Does that mean, though, that it's time to go home, or does it mean that I need to calm down and learn to appreciate the things that make this city so great? Even if that means learning to appreciate cold and foggy summers?
Over the weekend, I attended Lisa and Charlie's wedding. It was a gorgeous affair, and SO much fun. Now I think all of my friends should get married and have lovely lovely weddings and invite me. The wedding kind of freaked me out, though. Not in the way that I thought it would: this was the first wedding I've ever been to where it's my friends getting married, not someone's parents or an aunt or uncle, and I was fairly certain that the thought of all of us growing up was going to give me at least one adulthood-induced panic attack. Instead, the wedding made me reevaluate (yet AGAIN) where I want to live next year. Almost all of the Dartmouth people at the wedding either live in Boston or have lived there at some point. I spent a lot of time talking about my hometown, and at the reception, singing Sweet Caroline and Charlie on the MTA. The whole thing made me incredibly homesick.
On the way back to San Francisco, I had to change planes in Atlanta. As we were boarding, an airline employee came running over to watch everyone get on the plane. "I wish I were going with you," he said, "back to the Bay." He helped a woman in a wheelchair down the jetway. "Just because we're colored, you and I, doesn't mean we aren't from the Bay. I'll do anything for people from the Bay."
I understood exactly how he felt. I was boarding a plane for the wrong city. San Francisco is a wonderful and amazing place, but it's not home. I've made some really wonderful friends this year, but they're not my family. I'm not sure that I'm done with San Francisco yet, but I'm not sure that I'm not, either. I spend an awful lot of time missing people who live on the other side of the country, missing my favorite cafes, missing home. Today I freaked out because San Francisco summer weather is all wrong to me. Does that mean, though, that it's time to go home, or does it mean that I need to calm down and learn to appreciate the things that make this city so great? Even if that means learning to appreciate cold and foggy summers?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)