Ok people (aka my mother) I haven't written anything about my life in Boston thus far because this is a sacred online space for sarcasm, wit, and random musings! Life here is lovely and normal. And I refuse to believe people are interested in what I ate for breakfast and what movie I watched last night. But hey, maybe I'm mistaken.
Things immediately fell into normal life pace on landing in Boston. It's either because I'm easily pleased, or that people's lives really are the same no matter where they are.
There's probably some truth in both.
I got to my apartment (free of any Craigslist killers), moved my stuff into my huge attic bedroom, walked down the street to the corner grocery--blasting with Spanish music, tiny tiny aisles, 20 lbs bags of rice, and no gringas (excepto para mi, por supuesto).
Oh and I also stopped by CVS to buy shampoo, conditioner, shower gel, and other liquids I'm still not allowed to bring on planes. And here I thought the war on terror was won....
I go to work. I do work-y things. Like research stuff, write stuff, edit stuff. It's fantastic and I'm super pumped to be here.
Usual weeknights I stop by the grocery store on the way home from work (I have hardly any fridge space), cook something delicious (duh), curl up with my quilting and either watch Dexter or a Redbox.
...Ten years ago, would anyone have guessed I'd be happily sitting in an empty apartment in a new city, watching a serial killer tv show? I've come a long way baby
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