Home Sweet Home

So I’m looking for apartments, hoping to move closer to BU sometime later this summer. Yesterday was a pretty nice day here in Beantown so I took advantage of the clear weather to check out some apartments. First I met up with a nice broker from Mission Hill who took me around to some places in Fenway. The buildings had a nice location, but the apartments themselves were just ok. Dingy, tiny, cramped… cracked and peeling walls, patched-up sections in the tiled bathroom walls… they were just eh.

So after Chris dropped me back, I hopped on the Orange line and headed downtown to stroll around my new neighborhood. I brought my camera and took some pictures of the Charles river near the BU Bridge, and the SOM building. Also took a few snaps of some random places like the Post Office and some statues. As I was walking down Comm Ave, I passed by a stately old building with a hunter-green awning out front. I walked by, then stopped. Why does that building look so familiar? I wondered. Then I noticed a rental agency sign over to the left. Hmmm…. I pulled out a pad and pencil and started to write down the phone number. Then I hit myself in the head (figuratively). I’m here! Let’s just do this!

I cautiously opened the door and was cheered to see a friendly young woman sitting at a computer at the bottom of the stairs. “Come on in!” she gestured. We started talking about the different units that were available, and the price ranges. “Do you want to see one of the available studios right now?” she asked.
“Sure, why not!”

We headed over to the lobby to take the elevator up to the second floor. I looked around me at the brass, mirrored walls, and marble floors, then turned to Ashley.
“This is really embarrassing, but I think I used to date someone who lived in this building. I feel like I’m retroactively stalking him.”
“Does he still live here?!”
“No, thank god!” Haha.

Small world, huh?

P.S. the apartment was gorgeous, with an amazing location that literally can’t be beat. I could see the Citgo sign from the window, and right behind that lies BU SOM! Not even a five minute walk. Let’s see what happens.

Happy St. Patty

May the luck o’ the Irish be with you! Living in Boston I have come to appreciate St. Patrick’s Day. You have an excuse to wear the obnoxious green scarf living in the back of your closet, eat lots of boiled beef and cabbage, and imbibe in a brew or two.

I’ve only ever gone out and ‘done it up’ properly once, a few years back. A girl I’d become friendly with through a social group I was active in at the time took me out downtown and we hung out for most of the day at a bar in Fanueil Hall. I had a corned beef sandwich and a Guinness for breakfast. We talked until the crowd and the noise got too much to handle, and then we wandered over to the North End for a cookie and cappuccino. I was on the train headed home by 4:30 pm, completely sober. It wasn’t quite what I’d expected (i.e. drunken debauchery), but I figured it was an experience.

A few hours later, I was snuggled up in my bed reading through some emails. A note from a guy I’d met at a recent party caught my eye. We’d originally struck up a conversation due to our ethnicity– he was Indian, and I’m half Indian. [Sadly, this is how a vast majority of my conversations get started. People are constantly mistaking me for something I'm not.] In any case, I’d thought he was funny, and told him we needed to hang out later at some point. He saw me online, and after hearing I’d been out in Boston came to the conclusion that I was (of course) completely trashed. Hah, um…. no. I promptly disabused him of that notion, and so he cajoled me into coming out to help him drown his sorrows (India had just lost their cricket game). I figured sure, why not? It was still St. Patty’s day, after all. The night was young and I was ready to let loose.

I headed back out and met up with Boy in Back Bay. We found the first bar without a cover or line to get in, and settled in for the night. Drunken comrades to share amusing stories with? Check. Frosty mugs of beer? Check. College basketball on the flat screens? Double check. I stumbled home after midnight, drunk, happy, and a smile on my face.

Did I mention that I had my first kiss on St. Patrick’s Day? Yeeaaaahhh….