Tag Archives: broston

these days;

spring2013

signed a sublease for a charmingly large {that’s what she said, heeey ohhhhh. sorry, mom} one bedroom in upper {upper…upper} manhattan for the summer.

two favorite berries:  pinkberry on newbury.

putting “or whatever” after heartfelt sayings has been my main jam, i.e. “i love you or whatever”, “you’re cute or whatever”, “no, i’ll miss you or whatever.”

edie has been developing a love of fine luggage. baby girl knows what she likes.

the $8.95 thai lunch special at dok bua is both the life and death of me. dumplings on dumplings on curry on dumplings.

fenway has never been more gross and sticky and yet so very much my favorite place, even if i did drop my favorite scarf right into a puddle of day old bud light.

i’m also trying to convince coolidge theater that i can sublet one of their recliner chairs forever, because that’s what success and happiness look like to me.

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kate nash. jukebox the ghost. matt pond pa. all of the paper bags being hyperventilated into. all of them.

the discovery of the one direction store in boston= life has improved a million percent and rising.

my loyalty cards have extended from just cvs to include: panera, petco, dunkin’s, pavement, starbucks, and whatwaslifewithoutfreescones,guys

brother and mother filson and i pillaged the harpoon brewery of its pretzels and harpoon summer. 

{and considered going by ferry to do the same at cisco  brewery in nantucket. we don’t mess around}

tardis blue velvet cake for the whovian manfriend. disgust-o-meter went way off the charts this weekend.

slowly but surely the people of boston are getting back to their normal selves;

…which is to say the italian guys in the north end give me discounts on strawberries for my red hair,  and i delight in the drunken conversations had by people on a saturday night on the train home.

 

 

monday’s fortune;

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{monday’s thai food fortune cookie.}

monday we overslept.
my brother was on a plane home at 9:30am.  mom and i ate thai, until at 2:50 pm my mom looked over my shoulder to see what everyone in the restaurant was staring at on the television.
“ooh! the runners two blocks away from the finish line.”

somehow i knew this couldn’t be right. without my glasses on, i felt this was fishy.
i knew from half-wrecklessly running a half marathon a few years ago that the majority of runners would be finishing around 2:50 in the afternoon.
it seems that someone else knew that, too. curse my mom and i’s poor eye sight.

in a lot of ways, i’m still in shock. the blasts were around 2-3 blocks away from my school. seven students from my school were injured. it’s also the origin of where i first got smitten over boston.
first saw that library rotunda. bought my dried apricots from trader joe’s. get caught by pushy canvassers on my way home.
aimlessly wandered on tuesday afternoons when i had nothing else to do but gawk at buildings and residents of this little city.

in these situations, i can’t even be angry. anger is what your bully wants to see. sadness is what these people feed on.
as a younger sister of an older brother with a penchant for wrestling and light-hearted sibling fighting, i know that you never show that person you’re upset. that’s what they’re looking for. the sooner you stop showing sadness and anger, the sooner the person in question leaves you alone. terrorism, while terrifying, is only successful if terror is sensed in the victims.

boston is better than that.
if you’ve ever gone to a sox game, or a farmer’s market in the italian end, you know these people won’t back down. they will insult your mother. they will be the first to drop their “r”s in conversation, but also the first to fight for you.
if there is anything i feel from yesterday’s events, it’s even more love for this city.

i’ve grown up here, these last few years. i became a fully functioning adult here. and i’m lucky to live here, if not for the people i’ve met, but for the people i haven’t met, who i got to see run yesterday.

not just running  in the marathon, but for the running they did towards the destruction that tore up so many people’s lives, wrecked their dreams of finishing 26.2 miles in boston, rendered them a little less innocent to the things that a small fraction of a fraction of a percentage of the world decide to bring into this world.

because that’s the truth of it. that’s why i can’t be angry or sad.
because these things can’t wreck my view of “humanity” because the people who do these things are a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of the population.
and the runners and helpers towards those people in the blasts outnumber them in the millions and billions.

if you need any more proof of this, click the links below:

the google person finder
runners run to mgh to give blood after marathon
cowboy hat hero saves lives at marathon
13 examples of people being awesome after the bombing
red cross: how to help (apparently, they’ve exceeded what they need. humanity wins again)
 to boston, from kabul, with love

2013: the year of “nope”;

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i am a yes girl through and through. i say yes to new friends because, hey, new friends! i say yes to babysitting new kids for new families because, hey, money for me to blow on overpriced decaf americanos and concert tickets and ingredients to bake speculoos cookies! i say yes to including not-the-nicest people in my little world that might not be paying the adequate amount of rent money to inhabit that space, because yes is always best, right?! especially in this twenty-something female blog world, i can’t tell you how many times i’ve seen a twee little “say yes to life” message riddled among blog posts. and you know what?

nope. just….nope.

don’t get me wrong, i love that i am agreeable. i love that i can easily get myself excited about doing things that the people in my life love to do, because if they love it, what’s not to love? i love that excitement is something i can easily tap into, like a little maple tree that’s overflowing with sap a bit too much.

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but then i get tired. and i keep saying yes. because that’s who i am. and who would i be if i said no every once in a while? ergo, my inability to say no. my inability to say “ya know, i kind of wanna go by myself to this concert, if that’s okay” to the cross-armed wet-blankets of my world. my struggle to stay in, stay put, and stay still, wondering what might be going on in the city of beans. “what’s so wrong with having internship, class and babysitting from 10am-10pm on tuesdays?” i’d say to myself, stress-eating bowls of microwaved pan-asian noodle bowls and 50% of my daily sodium intake. and then i saw this cute little drawing and it all made sense. 

such things only get harder when you spent an semester interning and making event calendars, where your only goal was to glean the internet for the funnest of events going on outside (murder mystery scavenger hunts inside museums! ladysmith black mambazo concerts! oktoberfests out the wazoo!), bombarding you with things you “must” say yes to.

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this is to say i will say yes to only the things that add, not subtract. saying yes to baking speculoos cookies to the tune of the ronettes than overworking myself to hyper-rory-gilmore-ic tendencies (and we all know i tend to do that). yes to the worthwhile things (new issues of ploughshares read on the t, tacqueria dates, and my favorite two year olds). no to the  things that wear me down until i am cowering under my electric blanket with a bag of sweet potato chips and twilight zone episodes acquired from sketchy dutch tv websites. i’ll still be a yes lady, but with a couple dashes of “nope”.

appreciators to the right. haters to the left. its the year of nope, ya’ll, and you’re welcome to join along.

december favorites;

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a maniacal amount of grapefruits in my fridge.
how cute beantown can be….even in her soggy dreariness.
reinbeers. naturally.
grizzly bear slippers….naturally.

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roommate christmas: a gnome necklace. a star wars violin solo book. bacon t-shirts. hilarity ensued to the tune of  “the imperial march”.

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einstein cup giving me the strength to get through finals, a paper on disembowelment and poop in the inferno (literally), as well as a paper on nymphomania and  in british literature. am i insane and just don’t know it yet? could you let me know? thanks.

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finding my roommate like this one night. exploiting it. u kno i love you, rubes. xoxo

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dumpling dates with my favorite latin lovah*~ 
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crocheting on the t as a means to preserve what little sanity i have from writing papers about poop. so far, so good.

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4a coffee getting all of my money. and they also get a show and dance from me as well, which is only natural when i’m frazzled at 9am and just want a iced coffee in my mouth asap. 
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otto’s slices with this lady talking lady-talk. which only means we scared all pizza-eaters within the five feet radius of our bar stools.


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new additions to the picture book collection. best line? “i’ll sit on your cold feet. and you sit on my cold feet. and i’ll sit on your cold feet…and you sit on my cold feet…”, of course.


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loving on this nugget. exploting this nugget. putting antler’s on this nugget. putzing around the house with my bear slippers, running after this nugget. oliver, you are my fur boyfriend through and through. thanks for the keeses, even if i am the worst.

happy holidays, ya’ll! eat all the cheese balls. and kiss all of the strangers. and drink all of the pink sparkly liquids! xo

{adventures in lady-dating} ghost-touring;

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i am stubborn to a fault. whoa. shocker, right?
i have a good idea of what i like, how i like it, and usually stick to it. and for me, some activities are best done solo. i once missed out on steve martin tickets because i waited for people to get back to me and i still have night terrors because of it.

i am also a firm believer in lady-dates. taking yourself out to dinner. concerts in cramped concert halls with a bright orange wristband confirming your existence because friend’s instagram photos won’t. and that’s perfectly fine. buying that “for two” groupon that might make you stick out in a group of 11, where you have to say “#12 isn’t coming” when they take a roll call. but you’ll smile as you say it. it was on purpose.

enter: that time i went on a groupon date by myself. in salem. for a ghost tour.


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unlike most of my lady-dates, this was quite accidental. my roommate hannah and i had been planning this groupon date for months. i got a coupon for a groupon (aka. a groupon coupon.) which made all of my ghost tour dreams come true at a price of $5. i am cheap date. and derive much satisfaction from this fact. i also got to take the commuter rail and i have a not-so-secret obsession with taking the commuter rail. that purple train gets my heart bumping, for sure.

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about thirty mins before our date, as i was nestled in my cushy seat gulu gulu cafe (dog-themed! modeled after a cafe in prague where the owners met and fell in love! all the wifi!)  in salem, poor hannah had to cancel because she had been spending the weekend in the fetal position and speaking was arduous without the need to vomit coming soon after. homegirl got a rain check and i trudged on through salem after getting lost in a graveyard with the ghost tour guide on the phone with me for a combined total of twenty mins (over the course of three phone calls. i really really wish i was joking)
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after i freaked out my tour guide, and squeaked out that i bought the groupon for just me (and a group of groupon biddies raised their eyebrows in my general direction), she handed me what seemed to be a “barbie ghost tour” device and a bejeweled pendulum and on we pranced through a graveyard.

so far, so good.
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we ended up going through a bunch of graveyards, and in the bottom of a basement of an former firehouse/present day insurance office (where apparently there was a puppy ghost who had a history of thumping his spectral tail at ghost-hunters. needless to say, i focused all of my energy the entire two-hour tour trying to find ghost puppies. not even lying.

being honest, the tour was a total hokey-fest. i should have known it when my tour arrived wearing leopard yoga pants and uggs, with her best friend who sat behind her and laughing quietly from time to time, staring down at her own pair of uggs to hide her chuckles. i got heckled by a really drunk woman in a graveyard, who stumbled out of a salem bar and asked me if i was a ghost hunter and if she was on tv at that very moment in time.

it felt like an episode of “the office” , but i was the only one aware of  the cameras. totally worth the five dollars, two hours of my life, and eyebrow raising at the unseen camera like i was jim and pam. it got the “mackenzie lady date” stamp of approval.

{tune in to my next adventures in lady dating post, where my dear friend emily and i take on montreal, 24-hour bagel shops, and i will attempt to touch josh ritter’s suspenders at his concert…coming to a blog near you ~ mid-february.} 

 

 

ivy-covered life, a playlist;


{click above for playlist!}

boston and i have been super buddy-buddy lately. i ask her for a sunny day when i don’t have twelve hours of class and internship inside of classrooms full of recycled air. i ask her to give me just enough time to finish up the wonder spot by melissa bank & sula by toni morrison and (guys, my life was changed on the arm of my grandma chair). i ask her for lovely blog friends and old co-workers to  get wired puppy with.

she gives it to me. she tips her cap, says “sorry i was being so lame this time last year,” and gives it to me.

mornings have been punctuated by tea + absurd amounts of soy creamer, daydreaming about anne sexton papers, and coffee with my favorite professors talking about grad school prospects (swoon). afternoons are a hurried rush of microwaved peanut noodles and trying to snag bylines at my internship. nights of bananagrams and pumpkin candles and puzzle times and swing-dancing with strange guys in chairman mao costumes (seriously though). breakfast nooks + earl grey. bowling + tasty burger fries eaten on alleyway stoops. snow muddled with red leaves.

  in short, this is the ivy-covered life i’ve constructed. i dig it. it’s like a ridiculous caricature of an anthropologie catalogue, but i so dig it.

a literary halloweekend;

as is my usual fashion, this halloween was a nerdy one. i decided that the best use of my closet to make a “sexy emily dickinson” costume (isn’t it sad that it took me five minutes and my closet to make this costume? don’t answer that.) i pranced around a party with final harvest in tow and recited poems all night, making my best dead fish-eyed face, and made sure to punctuate all of my speech with dashes and a wild amount of exclamation points. i hope i made “e-dicks” (how i refer to good ol’ emily in my head) proud.

and then the next day i met lemony snicket (daniel handler). he yelled at small children, played an accordion, sat in an old woman’s lap, and flailed his arms around old south church at the bbf.

and then i died. and then he signed my copy of why we broke up with a simple “to mackenzie! yes! hello! how are you? me, too. daniel handler.” and then i was reborn again. and then i died again. it was that glorious.

and then i met junot diaz (!!!!!!) he was actually the sweetest man ever. and i am now crying over the fact that five minutes separated these two pictures of us, but his look remains the same. like zoolander, junot diaz has one look, and that is a super adorbz one.

now if you’ll excuse me, i have to get my “sexy virginia woolf” costume ready for next year.

werewolf bar mitzvahs, or “i can’t believe i get to write this stuff”;

so, as i have stated before, i’m kind of smitten with my internship. exhibit a: i got to write a blog post and compile a playlist  for halloween jams. i got to use bad puns. i got to use the rac remix of “werewolf bar mitzvah”. i talk about pelvic thrusting. this has been the rule of three.

like, guys, i didn’t even have to suggest this. i was told to. anyways, it’s been a good semester. anything that allows me to comment on missy elliot’s absence in the 2010s is enough to keep me content (but really, missy, come back to us).

if you’d like to read the article(and cringe at bad jokes), you can click here. and i’ve also compiled the list into a snazzy little spotify playlist for convenient ghoulish dance partying.

now if you’ll excuse me, i’ve got to see some boys become men, men become wolves, and women become she-wolves.

october favorites;

{a tree grows in brookline. seewhatididthere?}

reliving tenth grade by crocheting and listening to tegan and sara on loop.
sweet potato drop biscuits.
linked pinkies.
false lashes and wigs for halloween parties.
“hello kitty” house slippers.

cookie pies made with two cans of white beans in them (?!)
daydreaming about rushing the stage at the ben folds concert tonight.
my 8:30 am bike rides down beacon st.
“super bass” by nick minaj blasting in my house= the main reason i get anything done.

that twenty minutes before sleep when i finally get the chance to get into a good book.
 the pronunciation of “chateau neuf-du-pape” .
when you see a guy who wears patterned socks.
corduroy.
a-minuses on papers.
blueberry chile sauce and corn fritters at outdoor festivals.

the state of maine.
walking the mass. ave bridge at night with too much champagne.
hiking boots.
homemade pizza.
getting flour on my dresses.

{feed the mackenzies} tealuxe-y iced tea;



anyone who has ever visited me or asked me advice on what to do in this lovely city has most likely heard me speak volumes about my favorite tea shop, tealuxe. tealuxe is the one place in harvard square that arguably has the most of my money, and for good reason. the only way i can describe tealuxe to outsiders is that it is the ollivander’s wand shop of tea shops. i actually usually tell people,”the tea chooses the drinker…the wand chooses the wizard…” upon taking them there. yeah, i lose a lot of sleep over that one. i’m actually the worst.

aside from horrible jokes and references, tealuxe is one of the facilitating factors that lead me to call harvard square one of my favorite places in the whole wide world (cute academics + poetry bookshops + kind drivers and bike lanes only solidified it for me).

i’m a huge fan of their iced teas, to which they add milk. sound weird? nope, definitely not. it’s actually the dreamiest. seeing as this is my drink of choice when i’m studying, and i don’t exactly live down the street from tealuxe anymore, i found a way to make my favorite drink at home. i usually go for their creme de la earl grey iced tea + soy milk, but i used this vanilla rooibos tea instead.

essentially, boil water as you would for hot tea, brew around 6-7 bags of the tea of your liking (i’d go with english breakfast, earl grey, rooibos, or chai teas), and combine all in a pitcher until steeped, around 4-5 minutes. cool down the tea with iced cubes, as it will be pretty concentrated, and boom, it’s ready for consumption. a 1:1 ratio of (almond) milk to tea was a pretty happy combination for me.

mmmmmm. tastes like academia and cobblestones (not literally) and overachievement. yum.