the other day i was sitting in my bed, smelling my new ikea lingonberry candle, stomach full of “swedish” cinnamon rolls. and i started shaking a bit.
my whole body was buzzing, not even from my new-found caffeine addiction.
or high fructose corn syrup lovingly dolloped atop the cinnamon rolls.
i was just so overcome with how fantastic everything is.
dear my beloved boston/broston,
it is may.
you should not be 48 degrees outside . weather that is overcast, gloomy, and not conducive to bike rides over the charles is a major bummer.
i should not have to wear thick socks around my apartment. or daydream about hot showers. or still have to use my electric blanket.
i am begging you. please warm up soon?
you’re making me so homesick that i’ve spent many nights sitting in my college’s gym sauna that mocks my homeland’s warmth. and buying anything that is orange scented or flavored.
i’ve been waiting since last july to wear my bright green swimsuit.
and have sassy dance beach parties listening to bridgitte bardot.
and drink sangria on my stoop with friends. because stoop sangria is the best kind of sangria.
get your act together, okay?
sincerely,
me.
playground romps with the mir-cat.
eating kiwis (skin and all!) with my sensible shoes + favorite dress.
pre-thirty mile bike ride burrito + sangria (!!!)
fox socks out on the town.
statues getting festive.
mile twenty six of said bike ride. roomies on the tandem. fried dough stand ambiance.
prunes + kindle in the library. 21 going on 84 years old. just call me myrtle.
if bob ross was painting my dinner the other night, he’d call it “happy produce”.
…spring, you really are the best. keep on doing your thang.
i’ve biked over 80 miles this week (more on that later. it involves so much swamp butt. 500 boston residents. old and new roommates. a tandem bicycle. and bacon)
finals = next week. gulp.
i just wrapped acting in two of my bro’s student films. yes. i got to shoot people with multiple nerf guns. and scare my “husband”/guyfrand with my zombie face.
and i’ve had more than a handful of awkward interactions to share. i’d round it up to three handfuls, actually.
…..and two more libraries. could you expect anything less?
needless to say, it might get a wee bit quiet over here.
i can has massage? or another vegan coconut milkshake from veggie galaxy?
’til then, my sweets!
listening to laura marling on repeat. especially this jam. and this one.
going on the this website and getting lost for a few hours. i don’t know how people can waste so much time scrolling through tumblr when this website exists.
wearing the flats my big brother picked me out for christmas, all silvery and bow’d and perfectly sized for my monster feet.
the rustle of the green line trains underneath my chair.
bright green peacoat and happy scarf, all nestled in my favorite part of the library that overlooks the common. on a friday afternoon, when it’s less social, more quiet, more conducive to listening to my favorite sub-genre of music, “pissed off english chicks”, and entering writing contests.
i am the happiness. this is my spot.
i had the pleasure of going to a concert for one of my favorite bands, tennis, a few weeks ago. get this: main guitarist and his wife (the lead singer) spent an entire year on a boat, sailing up and down the east coast. and then they wrote an album about it. now if that doesn’t get hurt your ovaries, i don’t know what will. i’m a bit obsessed with them, to say the least.
their music has basically been my bostonian summer playlist. when i first moved here they sounded like what i thought cape cod would be like. warmed up oceans. scaldingly hot, white sand. aloe after a sunburn. my mom and i used to buy the following two snacks whenever we went to the beach in florida: coca cola and that “smart food” white cheddar popcorn that came in the crinkly black bags. and i swear to you, my pavlovian response to tennis and their music is to get a huge 20oz coke and a bag of white cheddar popcorn. it’s that good.
and their opening act? amazing! i ended up making two friends during the opener, hospitality. frank and herb were my new friends, in their polos and chinos. they were both most likely fathers of three children and for some reason a lo-fi, obscure band seemed like the perfect way to start their friday night off. we guessed what song tennis would open with (i won) and herb told me he was going to see the kooks next month, but only if his son lost his basketball playoffs, and i told him i would cross my fingers for his team to lose.
ergo, the beauty of going to concerts by yourself. frank. herb. summer jams. and white cheddar popcorn.
clever.
smores.
dances. 
amen. 
novel.
“teaparty”.
twirly.
roar.
{yule ball 2011, emerson college. with my favorite quidditch cheerleaders. i’m not kidding}
bike rides to harvard square. long eyelashes on boys. cramped apartments full of my favorite people. mustard-yellow anything. fish and chips in dive bars. mouthing the words to the movie “hook”. yule balls at school. petting dogs that don’t belong to me when their owners aren’t looking. talking to and making face at babies that don’t belong to me when their parents aren’t looking. having two days off work. quidditch team bonding nights. buying picture books for best friends. santa coming to work (i know him!! i know him!!) the end of finals= reading children’s books all day. sleeping 11 hours last night. talking to girls on the subway about knitting and yarn. hearing that my best friend might have thrown her back out last night because she was laughing too much.
how about you?
so i had the lovely pleasure to have not one, but two friends (i has two friends?) visit me this week! we feasted, pranced, and caused mayhem around the boston-cambridge area. i ate enough to hate myself, realized the magic of red lipstick, and had a squirrel get all up in my grill.
in short, my little flame of love for boston had been rekindled. i will not lie, since my bike was stolen and then two weeks later my iphone was literally grabbed from my hands* i had been feeling quite downcast about the status of my relationship with boston. for a week or two i really couldn’t find myself staring starry-eyed at the changing leaves, and i really only felt safe when i was safely in the emerson library, where i’ve basically been living since these events.
but there really is nothing like watching your friends experience boston for the first time. and it’s in that moment that a bunch of hoodlums really can’t take away your real love for a city.
*it was a two-high-school-boy operation. one distracted me by asking for the time while the other came up from behind and stole it. i ran after them and luckily the police was right next door so i got them to run after them. they caught one kid (that didn’t have my phone), but not the other that physically had my phone. but here’s the best part, i got to yell at the little ruffian! i did it in a very classy matter, but i really taught him a lesson. it was great, which is mostly why i am not too upset about it in general. yelling is awesome, guys. especially when you’re a typically docile creature, like i am.
‘
