Boston

I can't navigate there. I can't identify my location. I don't know where I've been once I've left, preventing the option to return to any exact place ever again.

I'm like the small-brained participant in some MIT experiment... and I'm okay with that because, you know what? I love Boston.

I'm not sure why I can't pull it together around that city... I lived there in the every-other-weekend style when I was an adolescent, I've been hundreds of times to see museums, schools, games, friends, shows, and on occasion, to shop. So. Why can't I figure it out?

Yesterday I was in the presence of two veteran Bostonians, so thankfully my trip was well chaperoned and completely directed. We spent all of Sunday in the city, celebrating M's birthday to the fullest extent.

First, brunch at a friend's restaurant.

Second, some down time at A's house.

Then, we went to see The Gold Dust Orphans do Willy Wanker which is getting phenomenal reviews. If you are local you should really go see it - next week is the final set of shows... go!

Then, it was on to Bukowski's for a couple of beers and some sweet potato fries. Yum.

Then, M found a gay bar that hosted Sunday night karaoke. Needless to say, he was not giving us any options. It was his birthday, and this was his moment. Karaoke. Yes. I said it. And, yes, I sang it.

The karaoke emcee spotted A & I the second we walked in with M, and immediately went to work on dismantling our firm No Karaoke platform. We guessed it was probably because we were the only two chicks in a gay bar. Eventually, M & I worked up the courage to test our pipes, and A bowed out. M chose the song: Jimmy Eat World's A Praise Chorus. One of many long-time favorite songs, it always takes me back in time to my freshman year of college, to the year M & I first met actually, and though it is not a song I would expect many other people to know, it didn't matter when we got on that stage. We had a blast.

As we were leaving the club, a man pulled M & I aside.

"You're good," the man pointed to M, "but you're better." The man pointed at me.
"Oh yeah?" M asked.
"Yeah," said the man, "you need to give her more stage."
"See? I need more stage!" I gloated to M.
"Yeah, and you need to swing the microphone. More attitude!" the man encouraged me, swinging his hips while miming a microphone, "Swing it!"
"Next time... next time." I said, and hoped there would be a next time.



Happy birthday, M.

Next Friday I'll be in the city again, and I fully expect to see more things I've never seen before.

I'm going to try & find my way to the Miracle of Science simply because I've been there before, I like it there, and I want to go back. Who knows? I might actually make it.

If I do, I'll not only be as proud as the day MR and I successfully navigated the T from Quincy to The Garden, but I'll also be having a delicious lunch with my Colorado family.

Here's to Boston, my very own maze. Someday I'll conquer it... someday.

-k.