Everyone Loves a Boston Girl

I’m afraid of change. And clearly not afraid to admit it. And yes, I blame it on my parents. After all, they still live in the same house they’ve lived in before I was born. That means I grew up never experiencing a move, until college. And while I blame it on my parents, I don’t blame it on them. After all, any time a potential move was even discussed, I threw my silverware on the floor, pushed my dinner table chair aside, and stormed up to my bedroom, tears flowing like crazy. You should have seen me when they decided to remodel the kitchen. Normally, I’d be all for a larger kitchen, but destroy the space I grew up watching my parents cook in? God, no! So, yeah, moving was not an option in my world.

I still joke I want to buy the house from them some day. Only it’s not really a joke. I would. For sure. And it’s possible I’d never remodel a thing. Ugh, I have issues.

Which is probably why ever since I moved to Boston 5 long years ago, I haven’t moved once. It’s a rare thing to live in one apartment for so long in your 20s. But I guess I just have an “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” philosophy. I love my apartment, the location, the space, the fact I can throw my trash outside my front door and it gets mysteriously carried away in the middle of the night, the fact that I’m never cold in the winter, and more. So why am I going to pack everything in boxes, hire movers, and transplant myself to another apartment? Sounds pretty miserable.

Only now I’m moving. Literally across the street. But still, it’s moving. And I’m currently in the very middle of packing my 5 years worth of stuff. Yesterday I was packing up my bedroom when Rachael Yamagata’s “Over and Over” came on my iTunes. And as I stood there surveying my room with my hands on my hips, I felt like I was in a scene from The Hills. And like I had just had enough with my life and had to get away from it all (and yes, go to Europe in general or something).

Except that’s not it at all. It’s kind of the opposite. Everything is going so wonderfully in my life, so beautifully, and so (dare I jinx it) perfectly. And that’s what I have to keep telling myself. This is a new beginning; the next step in life. I’m moving into a nicer apartment (with a kitchen with more counter space) with someone I love with my entire being. It’s going to be an amazing experience and is so exactly right.

And let’s be real. Can I live in an old apartment with a random roommate for the rest of my life? No, probably not. But still. So many memories are held in that apartment. So many nights with friends dancing to Shakira. So many cupcakes. So many tears and lessons learned. Some things I thought I’d want to forget, but find myself clinging to because they’re the things that made me. And so many things I just never want to fade.

I threw away about 15 pairs of shoes yesterday. It was tough. I almost dug them out of the trash bag after throwing them in. But I resisted. I resisted the urge to stop when I packed 7 huge bags of clothing for Good Will. And I resisted the urge to stop when I threw away various items I’ve just had my whole life. I didn’t need them; I just had them.

Life is about change. It’s about moving on. And taking the next steps that you know will make your life even fuller than it already is. And all those places you spent so much time making memories in? They’ll always be there in your heart. They’ll never fully disappear. That’s what life is all about.

And for now… I posted this pic on Twitter while I was in the depths of packing yesterday:

And someone asked me if the robbers took much. Sigh. Maybe that’s why I’m not generally open to moving.

T is for… Ticket?

It makes sense that I was a bit confused when my boyfriend ran in the door the other day saying, “I got a ticket!!!” (with some other expletives mixed in). I could see his car outside from where he parked it earlier that day. How do you get a ticket if you’re not driving? Oh, let me just tell you how. Pull up a seat.

What do I like even less than apartment hunting in Boston? Thanks for asking. That would be the MBTA. But then, who likes the MBTA? Don’t get me wrong, I try really, really hard not to complain that much because I feel incredibly lucky to live in a city that actually has a public transportation system. And one that generally works. Really, it could be so much worse. I’m totally aware of this. But. But. But. But. I’m going to complain now. Or something like that.

Yesterday, my boyfriend got a ticket on the T. Yes, a ticket. Did you know? That was possible? Because I did not. Now I do. And I feel it’s my duty to educate all of you.

So, you know when it’s really crowded on the C-line and you walk on in the middle car? Well, he did this while he was on the phone with his mom. And because he was chatting away with his mom, he didn’t go right up to the front of the T to pay his fare. Of course, it was wrong of him. And of course, he would have paid the second he realized it or if they said, “please come to the front of the T to pay your fare” like they often do. But instead, an MBTA officer issued him a ticket. A $15 ticket. For a $2 T ride.

I mean, remember when you didn’t even have to pay to ride outbound on the C-line?! I do.

I understand the MBTA is hurting big time. And they need money really badly. But, can we talk about how many times I’ve gotten on the T and NOT had to pay because the machine is broken? Or because the T driver hasn’t turned it on yet and just waves you on? The drivers often act like they don’t really care collecting your fare and I can’t blame them since the money system is awful and if you don’t have a card, you’ll likely take 10 years to pay your fare angering everyone behind you. Plus, they probably hate their jobs. So, the MBTA is hurting for money. And their solution, instead of MAKING people pay their fare, is giving $15 tickets.

The ticket says “FARE EVASION” on it. He had no less than $40 currently on his T pass. And if the gentleman had said, “sir, go pay your fare,” I guarantee he would have said, “omg I’m sorry!” And gone to pay it. Because he is not a fare evader (He also doesn’t normally say O.M.G. though, just so you know).

I understand ticketing people jumping over turnstiles or refusing to pay or whatever. But the MBTA is clearly hurting so bad for money, they’ve hired an “officer” to ticket everyone who makes an error. Tickets on the T! Who the heck would have thought?

Let this be a warning, good people of Boston. On the street stops, get on the T through the front door. And pay your fare or you’ll be slammed with a ticket. And if you don’t pay the ticket? They will issue a warrant for your arrest!

OK, I’m kind of laughing because, really? This is kind of funny. I’ve never heard of a soul getting a ticket on the T and it would only happen to Chris. Only him. But not, because it could happen to you, too. It’s just so ridiculous.

SEE?!?! He’s really writing Chris a ticket!!!!! On the T!!! (kind of embarrassing, right??)

This happens. It’s real. Thank you, Boston.

Alternatively titled: apartment hunting on Craigslist makes me want to kill myself.

If you happen to follow me on Twitter, you’ve likely noticed I’m in the process of apartment hunting. I started the process all bright-eyed and bushy tailed. And then Craigslist killed it for me.

I’m no real estate agent, and I’m absolutely not claiming I could rent any of these apartments. Because I absolutely couldn’t. But what I do know is that I could save everyone a whole lot of time and energy… and that must count for something, right?

My advice to real estate agents listing homes on Craigslist:

• The words “Elevator building!” are irrelevant if the unit is on ground level or in the basement.
• Please don’t use the word “Wowsers” in the headline. Especially if the apartment looks like a bomb went off in it.
• We can tell if you’re stretching your photos. No coffee table is that wide. And the toilet seat looks like it was built for a giant. A for effort. Actually no, F.
  
• If you don’t put photos with your ad, there’s probably a reason. If you only include photos of the lobby, there’s probably a reason for that, too. Pretty lobbies are nice, but I shouldn’t want to sleep in it over my actual unit.

• The term “modern” changes through the years. What was “modern” in 1989, is not still considered “modern” today. A “modern” kitchen should not have a brown and yellow refrigerator.
  
• Brighton is not a “Coolidge Corner alternative.” I mean, technically everything’s an alternative to something else, but no. Just no.
  
• Who the heck would pay $250 for a parking spot in Brookline?
  
• “Clean carpet” is an oxymoron in the Boston-area.
  
• If you have to say “Lead-free!!” in the headline, you’re really struggling to say something nice, aren’t you?
  
• Cute means small. Cozy means small. Nice means meh. Unique means horribly ugly.
  
• Posting the same ad over and over, all in a row, is NOT going to make me want to call you to set up an appointment.
  
• If there’s a piece of trash in the middle of an otherwise empty room, pick it up before you take a photo. Heck, what do I care, kick it to the side if you want. Photoshop it later on if you really can’t build up the energy to remove it. just, I don’t want to see it.
  
• Please refrain from using hearts, stars, music notes, arrows, etc. in listing headlines.
  
• Just don’t say this: “living room is large, sunny and has great fridge in it, since the kitchen doesn’t have enough space to fit it.”

I’ll stop here for fear that I could go on forever and ever. Let’s just hope this apartment hunt doesn’t last that long. I’ve suddenly realized why I haven’t moved from my apartment in 5 years.

I thought this would be painless, but apparently it’s quite possible I’ll be living in a living room with a refrigerator in it. But at least I won’t have lead poisoning, right?

Candy, candy, candy, candy! Seriously, is there anything better? I’m giving that a big NO! But the crazy thing is, there are always new candies being invented. Remember when an M&M was just an M&M? And then slowly, more and more types were introduced. Now there are things like Coconut M&Ms.

But some candies just bring me back. I recently visited my fave childhood candy store at Perkins Cove in Ogunquit, Maine, and it had me remembering allll the candy of my childhood. First of all, I was allowed to eat candy cigarettes. Which is weird. Because my parents didn’t smoke and were totally anti-smoking. The candy ciggs definitely didn’t encourage me to smoke, but I highly doubt I’d let my kids have these. Remember?

Without a doubt, Lotsa Fizz was one of my very favorite candies. They were seemingly regular candies until you bit into them and fizz filled your mouth (there’s got to be a TWSS in there somewhere). I was obsessed.

Big League Chew was another candy/gum that I probably shouldn’t have been allowed to have. Not that it gave me a chewing tobacco habit or anything like that. But still. It just doesn’t seem right. Come to think of it, I don’t think I even KNEW what chewing tobacco was. Yet there I saw on the bench during my softball games at the age of 9 chewing Big League Chew. Classy little lady I was.

I don’t know why Push Pops were so awesome, but they were.

Oh hey, let’s eat sugar out of a packet with… a stick made from more sugar! That won’t make kids majorly hyper (or give them diabetes) will it?? OK, Fun Dip.

Candy dots. Basically like eating paper. What was even the point of eating a little tiny candy and getting a mouthful of paper? Weird.

And that’s really only the start of the crazy 80s candy. There’s also Pop Rocks, Sixlets, Ring Pops, Bubble Tape, the list goes on. OK, so candy is still pretty ridiculous today with things like Nerds Rope (which is SO SO good).

Also? I’m likely going to be a horrible mother someday who won’t allow her children access to anything that could create bad habits, or candy that will make them overly-hyper.

Plus, I’ll probably just be hoarding all the candy for myself. Duh.

Buying new nail polish is often a conundrum.

If I was more fun, I’d totally buy nail polishes based on name alone. But then I’d end up buying OPI’s “Suzie Says Feng Shui” because it uses my name (kind of!!). And I’m not so sure I can pull off bright blue nail polish. Though my 7-year-old self did (again, kind of!!).

Or OPI’s “Gargantuan Green Grape,” which is totally not a “me” shade of green.

Though I totally do want to try Essie’s Mint Candy Apple. But would it be a wear-one-time and stick in a drawer type deal?

The fact of the matter is, I’m super picky about my polish color choices. I mainly wear pinks (the brighter the better!) with the occasional deep navy, and orangey tone. I much prefer mattes to iridescent and am not a fan of bright reds or barely there colors. I’ve been searching for the perfect pastel violet matte for a while now, but can never find exactly what I want.

The other day I was wandering around CVS trying to choose a new shade of nail polish. And I kept thinking about how I wished I could see it on my nails before purchasing. I KNOW I’m totally illegal here, but I was seriously opening some of the polishes and brushing them on my nails (quickly and discretely). I absolutely hate that you can’t tell what a polish looks like until it’s out of the bottle and on your nails.

You can buy nail polishes online, but that’s even more difficult. Go to three different websites and you’ll see 3 bottles of nail polish that look completely different! Plus, it doesn’t give me the opportunity to sneakily open the bottles up before purchase (shhh!). Being a girl? It’s hard. Wah wah.

Then i got home and randomly came across an iPhone/iPad app from OPI. It actually lets you choose the shade of your skin, find an OPI nail polish color and “try it on” And it’s totally legal. Ahem. Of course, it’s not the perfect fix, but I had fun playing around with it.

But still, no matte pastel violet. And no pink that’s just that perfect shade.

How do you find your perfect shade? I’m actually thinking Essie’s upcoming Miss matched might be my dream purple.

Or is it OPI’s Done Out in Deco? Who the heck knows!

File this under “When I am rich, I shall have an entire closet in my house devoted to nail polish. Organized by color. Obvi.”