BC Separation Anxiety is a blog in which I lament all things BC related that I will miss this summer. The whining is rampant.
It’s officially halfway through the summer and I have lamented my various Boston College separation woes for seven weeks now. Seven weeks is a long time to complain about something that has such an obvious solution, so this weekend I dragged my lazy bum onto the red line in Quincy and headed in to the city.
The official reason for my visit was the Jason Aldean concert at Fenway Park on Saturday night. I got my hick on with 35,000 odd people, simultaneously breaking the record for largest concert ever held at Fenway and most beers EVER sold in the park.
Being in Fenway Park again was crazy fun, but being in Boston again is amazing. It’s like coming home after a two-month prison-stay (Oh my gosh I’m overdramatic, aren’t I?). My friend has a tiny apartment in Beacon Hill that we all crashed in after the concert, and I’m slowly going insane with jealousy over his location/proximity to the Public Gardens.
I’m writing this in a posh Beacon Hill Starbucks watching skinny young people swarm around Charles Street with yoga mats, venti lattes and fashionably dressed infants. (Sorry Dunkins but your downtown locations are wicked sketch. And the barista here is wicked cute.) In all seriousness: when can I move in?
I go completely green with envy every time I think about you full-time Bostonians who get to hang out in this city on the reg. Do you know what I would give to be writing Katelyn Crowley’s Dating Boston blog instead of a blog about how much I missed Boston? Probably like three fifths of the fingers on one of my hands. Or some toes or something. Anything.
Yesterday, while I was walking around the Common searching for a non-sketchy Dunkins, I ran into a BPD officer who was chatting up a couple of construction workers. It was so tempting to just stop and listen to them because they sounded like extras from “Good Will Hunting” or “The Town.” I don’t care how ugly some people think the Boston accent is, a nicely dropped R is the way to my heart:
**Swoon** I miss that heavy accent so much. But then again I miss everything so much. I even miss public transportation, if that is at all possible. We took the Green Line outbound to Fenway yesterday and my friends were probably ready to slap me for the amount of times the phrase “Awwwww I love the T!!!” came out of my mouth.
Whatever, whatever, I do what I want. And currently what I want to do is proclaim my love for the T. Katie Levingston totally feels me here. The T is awesome. Much better than the dumb Commuter Rail that I have to take if I want to get anywhere remotely close to the Greater Boston Area.
I realize this whole thing is probably reading as some hardcore Boston love spew-age. And that’s exactly what it is. I love this city, and I’m sure most of you reading this love it too. I want to travel and see the world and be stupid and fall in love with a European and get my heart crushed to smithereens and volunteer in South America and then go be Buddhist in Asia for a little while, but I will always come back to Boston in the end.
Even if the drivers are obnoxious and the sports teams break my heart annually, you’ve got to love that Dirty Water.
Photos by Emily Akin/Gavel Media