Getting back to this, as promised.

For those of you who don't read my sister's blog, you should really start. She recently posted an entry, beautifully capturing the essence of our time in Boston. Sweet, I thought to myself as I read it. She did such a good job of capturing my memories that I don't really need to blog about it myself. It was a nice thought until this weekend when she told me she would transfer all of her pictures to a cd for me, only upon completion of my own Boston blog. So, fasten your seatbelts, kiddies. It's going to be a wild ride.

On Thursday, June 16, I left work at noon for 5.5 consecutive days away from the office. The excitement was almost too much to bear. I finished up some last minute packing, finally secured myself a garage, got a bad haircut, and renewed my driver's license (post bad haircut...I'm brave!). By the time I actually left Duluth, I was almost too excited to drive. You don't understand...I haven't been ANYWHERE in a long time.

First stop in the cities: Buffalo Wild Wings. It was there that I had my first bittersweet reunion with Chuck since we moved out of our home nine months ago. It went surprisingly well and, by that, I only mean that we didn't claw each other's eyes out.

After we ate, Chuck insisted that I see his new place. It's beautiful and I'm so glad that he's found success and (hopefully) happiness in his life. I'm also glad that we took this opportunity to see each other again though, I have to admit, it made me a little sad. He was as sweet and affectionate towards me as he was the day we met. His house was chock full of remnants of our relationship and the fun times we had together. He still has the dart high score board and it looks just like it did the day I left, for God's sake! Right there on the bottom of the shitty old white board in Red's sloppy handwriting were the words Red=drunk+suck. Old Chucker sure made it impossible for me to forget all the good times we had together. I didn't realize until that night just how much I've missed him.

There on the shelf in Chuck's pink garage, I found all that is left of Clark...our gorgeous leafy love child that died shortly before our relationship did. I blame Bridget for poisoning both.


Three lousy beers was all it took to let Chuck (he who likely wants to see me dead, for good reason) convince me to get into his massive new safe. I don't think I would have let him do it had his roommate not been home. Witnesses are key.

Despite Chuck's pleas to get me to spend the night and his tempting offer to let me keep my vulnerable little car in his garage during my time away, I left for Red and Darren's new apartment at about 9pm. Darren insisted on sleeping on the couch, which means that I got to sleep atop the cat piss blanket on the bedroom floor. I think it was Darren's symbolic "fuck you" for never offering him the bed at my place. It's cool though, because we didn't get much sleep time anyway. Red couldn't shut the hell up for at least an hour after we got into bed, no matter how much I begged her to let me sleep. Women! It felt like five minutes after I fell asleep that I heard the dreaded alarm clock. I should have gone back to sleep, but how was I to know that it would take Red forty-five minutes to shower? That's a little extreme, even for her.

Darren was kind enough to bring us to the airport and, by the time we got there, I was in high-strung Angie mode. I'm pretty sure Red was wishing she could find me a beer in the airport that early in the morning, because that's probably the only thing that could have made me stop worrying so much. I don't think I actually calmed down until we had boarded the plane and I had convinced Red to not confront the old lady who had (inadvertently!) stolen her window seat.

Before Boston, I hadn't flown in ten years (holy shit, I'm old), when I lost my airplane virginity (not to be confused with losing my virginity in an airplane.) So, needless to say, the flight was freaking exciting for me. That whole lift-off part of the trip that makes the bile rise in my throat is fabulous. Why don't I travel more often?!

We landed in Boston a little ahead of schedule, fetched our bags (another hurdle behind us), and got our first taste of THE ACCENT when we met the sexy old guy who called us a cab. The crazy cabby got us to our hotel safely (though I was starting to have my doubts) and we freshened up a little before heading out on the town.

I'm so happy we planned our trip in the order we did. We had most of Friday free to just walk around and explore the city without the pressure of really needing to see anything. And that's just what we did.

Our aimless wanderings on our first day in Boston took us through Beacon Hill and some of the most beautiful neighborhoods I've ever seen.


You can imagine our delight upon stumbling onto the Freedom Trail just hours after arriving in Boston. We sure thought we were smart...until we walked in circles, trying to follow it, and found we were literally too stupid to use the Freedom Trail, no matter how many times we consulted our FREEDOM TRAIL MAP. There may have been a lot of swearing and obscene gestures aimed at the Freedom Trail that day, but we learned to love it as the trip went on. At least I did.


Doesn't it just figure that the one time we find ourselves staying steps away from a hospital, Red doesn't get hurt?
If every city looked like this, the world would be a much better place.

Ahh, Boston. We were happy to see you too.


Cheers was a nearly religious experience. I was tempted to drop to my knees in front of the famous building and break the dam of tears threatening to spill forth violently from my eyes. I'm sure they see that all the time there. It was at Cheers that I met my future husband...whether he likes it or not.

After a much needed nap back at the hotel room, Red and I headed out for a few beers. I'm sure Boston has great night life, so I'm not going to generalize, but the bar we went to SUCKED. Snotty, pretty, rich kids as far as they eye could see. Just listening to their conversations made me feel stupid...and I don't like that. I'm partial to Duluth and the Pioneer because I'm smart there...and young, very young.

On Saturday, my twenty-fifth birthday, I awoke to several neatly wrapped birthday presents because my sister is too sweet for her own good and, somehow, thought it would be tragic for me to not have presents to open on my birthday, despite the fact that she'd just bought me a birthday trip to Boston. I got paint-by-number!

That day, we hit the tourist spots hard, starting with a lengthy ride on the big red trolley. I went to school in Tower and they don't feel it necessary to really teach students about American history, or any history for that matter, so I learned A LOT in Boston.

Faneuil Hall was one of my very favorite places in Boston. I quickly learned why it came so highly recommended by everyone I talked to who has ever been there. It's amazing. I have goosebumps just thinking about it.

The Old North Church was my second favorite spot in Boston. Absolutely fascinating...everything about it. I'd never even heard of boxed pews until I stepped into this beautiful building. I hope it's around for another three hundred years. I want to someday take my kids there...and I want them to take their kids there.


I'm always this happy in church. Let's not tell Grandma it wasn't Catholic though.

Paul Revere's house. That man was a stallion. I think he killed his first wife. The murder weapon? His libido.

It was on Saturday that we made nice with the Freedom Trail. We only misplaced it once and the accidental detour into Little Italy was the best mistake we ever made. We just happened to be there during the Italy/USA World Cup game and the entire area was madness. Hoardes of people were crowded into the streets, surrounding any building they could find with a television tuned into the game and, believe me, they all were. Chants of "USA" were met with rowdy Italian chants that I didn't understand. The energy was palatable.

There was also a lot of energy at the farmer's market. Bad, bad energy! I was on the verge of an anxiety attack by the time we found our way through that maze of produce and smelly men with clever slogans.

Sunday brought more tourism for us. We were eager to make the most of our Go Boston cards, so we hit the streets early, dripping with sunscreen, cameras at the ready.

Our first stop was the science museum, to catch a ride on a beautiful lavender duck. This tour was one of the best I've ever been on. That's what you get when your tour guide is an American History/Theater major. Education via entertainment, folks.

We paid a brief visit to the science museum...only because we were already there and it was free and we were bound and determined to get our money's worth with those Go Boston cards. For the record, we totally did.


In exchange for leprosy, dehydration, and heatstroke, the harbor cruise provided us with breathtaking views of downtown Boston. I'd do it all over again.

From that very balcony on the Old State House, the Declaration of Indepence was first read to the citizens of Boston. It was on that ground, probably near where the bike sits, that the Boston Massacre occurred. But, can you guess what my favorite part of the Old State House was? The man who tried to charge me the student rate for admission because surely I couldn't be older than eighteen.

I've seen a lot of memorials in my life, but I don't think any has been as touching as Boston's Holocaust memorial. Despite what Red would have you all think, it wasn't so good that I couldn't suppress the urge to pleasure myself right then and there. My hand is ON MY LEG.

This Cheers pretty much sucked. I'll take the Bull & Finch any day of the week.

We woke up early on Monday to squeeze in as much Boston as we could before we left. I had one goal in mind--to see the old downtown burial grounds.

Nothing I type can do these cemeteries justice. There's something indescribable about walking among headstones marking the graves of our country's founders. These graves date back to 1630. That's difficult for me to comprehend.

Our flight home was thankfully uneventful. God gave me a nice little belated birthday present when he sat a Boston man with a thick accent next to me on the plane. Might as well enjoy it until the end, right?

What a trip! I already can't wait to go back! Next time, we're finding a questionable dive bar filled with old Boston men who will buy us drinks and talk dirty to us.

Happy Independence Day to all of you!