Boston Uncommon

There are very few things people like reading less than travelogues of other people’s fantastic adventures. “Denise and I then ate Vienna Sausages with Johann the ski instructor. Oh, it was a trip!” The problem is other folks are all too quick to prompt returning travelers with, “So how was your trip?” It’s polite. But they secretly hope for the magical one word answer, “Good.”

I have some stories to share. If you care to hear them, you can read the rest of the post. If not, come back tomorrow for regularly scheduled shenanigans. I promise to sum up in brief:
After the storm Wednesday evening that threatened to leave me snow-bound, I managed to help the ‘rents with freeing the car so I could take a train into NYC and spend the night at my sister’s. The city is a dark, frightening universe to me, and after all of these storms I feel like there are dangers untold lurking behind dirty, white mountains. Outside of my sister’s apartment they didn’t pick up the garbage before the storm and now there are several black bags poking out of a foot of white. I woke up at 3:30a.m. thinking it was 7a.m. because it was so bright. And my family thinks I should move here.

So… anyway, then we rode into CT, met up with my sister’s friend Kim, drove to Hartford, spent almost an hour in the most HELLISH traffic on the East Coast, picked up another friend, and drove to Boston. We managed to get there just in time to grab a bite to eat and see the concert. The concert was fantastic (they opened with my favorite song July, July), except I spent part of it way back behind the soundboard and finally my sister prompted me to push forward to the front. I used my backpack as a shield to get a better view. This did not make other patrons like me better, but as I’ve been a fan of this band for 5 years and this has been the only music concert I’ve been to in years, I decided not to care. After I spent some money on an awesome Tee, we headed back to the über-posh hotel.

Highlights at the hotel: Leopard print robe, old map-covered cabinet, I think cheetah print or leopard print rug, curtains with the Declaration of Independence printed on them, and drunk rich people outside including a woman in a fur coat who face-planted into a giant pile of dirty snow *on purpose* to try to make a snow angel.

The next day we toured around Boston to find Boston Common. This confused the hell out of the GPS. “Mildred” as my sister & her roommate had named it, sounds like an angry British nanny and kept telling us to go around and around. “Turn right, then turn right, then turn left, then turn right, then turn right. … Recalculating.” Our driver, still Kim, would follow her instructions and then she might miss an almost invisible street or Mildred would not give clear instructions on which right because there would be two options??? Boston beats Atlanta in most confusing layout of a city. It destroyed the mind of our GPS and finally my sister turned it off, looked straight ahead and said, “Stay on this road, I see where we’re supposed to be.” We figure either the satellite couldn’t figure out which street we were on or because Mildred has a British voice, this was part of Boston’s ongoing hatred of the English.

Boston Common was pretty awesome and we had a lot of fun meeting up with another of my sister’s friends, eating some Chinese-Indian fusion cuisine, visiting some landmarks, going to LUSH, taking goofy pics, and drinking (Sam Adams across from Samuel Adams’ grave). I won’t go into a lot of detail, but below is my photo album.

Decemberists Concert

There is one thing I have to share from the Boston Common trip. We were by the bronze ducks and a woman who was a bit older than middle-aged was also taking pictures of them. She was dressed to exercise (track suit, hat, backpack). Then she went several feet from us and began doing this weird walk. We thought she was doing Tai Chi Chuan at first, but then realized it was no martial art we had seen before. She was doing some sort of made up body… thing. I took a small video of it and uploaded it to YouTube. I apologize for sound & video quality. This is from my photo camera.

End of Boston trip: Sister & I came back to CT and stayed with Mom for a little while. It was good to see her and her friends Jim & Bobby. We didn’t do too much because I was kind of drained from the trip, but it was good to rest and hang out (and eat junk food which doesn’t happen a lot at Dad & Step-Mom’s house).


About Strix Varia

Seeking the strange creatures of the Internet while staving off the boredom of being unemployed and far from old friends. Follow the blog if you need something with which to pass the time away.

Posted on February 1, 2011, in travel and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. Good to hear your voice.

    Totally get you on the “How is…” question. “How are you?” while walking by (sometimes upstairs or through a door) rather bothers me.

    • What weirded me out was getting used to that being the common Atlanta greeting. I chalked it up to being a Southern thing. Like, it was polite to ask how people were and so that was part of Southern Hospitality. But with busy lives now, people don’t stop and find out so you just reply with the same question. I occasionally encounter that in the north, but not as frequently.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: