I still fight the urge to walk down the escalator


I have been in sporadic contact with my last employer in Boston.  I have wondered for sometime why I feel so strongly about keeping up the even tiniest connections to the Boston area.  To be honest it was not the greatest job (no offense).  I had earned a master’s degree in theology but because we knew that within 1-2 years we would be leaving Boston for Indiana I took a job at a hotel as a front-desk agent. 

Yes, imagine the glamour I lived!  But it paid the bills and came with a colorful cast of characters that never ceased to entertain me.  On this subject alone I could fill at least 3 chapters in a book, (4 if you add in the time that we actually lived at the hotel for a short while, loooooonng story and while it might sound romantic for newlyweds to share a hotel room TRUST me, it wears off quickly when you have to wash your dishes in the bathtub and your only real cooking implement is a rotissery you got as a wedding present). 

Back to the ‘characters’, like the world-renowned, yet drunk, trumpet player that proposed marriage to me.  When I informed the inebriated trumpeter that I was recently married he lamented, LOUDLY, about cruel fate and had he only come to Boston sooner to play his trumpet he could have met me.  At this point his slightly more sober comrade dragged him off the counter of the front desk that he was leaning on to keep his balance and up to his room.

You know, I just realized my parents/family are learning a LOT about my time away from home.

WARNING – this will be a tangent filled post,  I can just feel it.

So why this urge to have ties to the Boston/MA area?  When you look at it honestly I was broke, a student, it was really expensive to live there, and traffic SUCKED.  And I am not even from there originally! (gasp!)  I am from northern NY, we grow apples and have dairy cows and horse racing.  And I love my hometown area, it was one of the best places to grow up I believe. 

But it’s not Massachusetts.  (I still have to spell check to spell that, see – clearly not a native, natives have it drilled into their heads from birth how to spell it.)  In Boston everyone knows the score from last night’s games and they know the key plays/errors that were made.  Morning radio is a recap of the sports games from last night and the first thing you talk about at work is “did you see so-and-so’s great play, or so-and-so’s huge error?)  People often characterize Bostonians as grumpy or ill-tempered.  But it’s not that, we’re just realists, we call it as it is and we don’t try to ‘pretty it up’ any.  If you are a tourist and lost in the city, stop any guy wearing a sox hat that looks grumpy and you will 1) get great directions and 2) get advice on whether or not what you are trying to find is worth it along with some suggestions on where you should really try to go. 

And that is just one of the many things I miss about Boston.  Other things I miss? 

 – Autumn, sorry but no area of the country even compares to Autumn in New England.  I can’t even find an apple orchard out here.  I’m sure they are here, it’s just they are around every corner in New England it seems.  And we pretty much get every other season right.  Summer is not too hot, Winter comes with lots of snow.  In Indiana so far winter has come with cold, a little ice, and not enough snow to build a snow fort.  If it’s gonna be cold it should at least come with lots of snow.  And yes I still like to build snow forts and snowmen, don’t judge, it’s un-christian 😉

 – the ‘rush’ , we are ALWAYS in a rush, we drive fast, walk fast, and talk fast.  When I first met Jacob I noticed he nodded a lot and didn’t talk much when we were together with a bunch of my girlfriends.  I asked him if he had a problem with my friends, or if he felt I was ignoring him when my friends were with us.  He said ‘no’, he was just trying to ‘keep up’ with the pace of the conversation.  For those hoosiers reading this that know me now, I used to talk a lot faster.  I have had to make a conscious effort to slow down the talking.  It. is. an. EFFORT. 

We are in so much of a rush in New England that we walk up and down escalators.  Moving stairs, meant to make our life easier, and we sprint up them like a rabid dog is at our heals.  This is mostly done in the subway because you are trying to catch a train. 

 – the OCEAN.  Nothing compares, really really really, nothing compares.

I think I idealize MA/Boston so much because that’s where I became ‘adult me’.  I went to college, made a TON of mistakes (half of which involved me locking car/room keys in the car/room with me being outside of the car/room.  I got to know the Public Safety Dept. at my school very well), but had to pick myself up and dust myself off.  I made the incredibly hard choice after earning a degree in Economics to follow a longtime passion of mine and apply to Seminary. 

And Boston is where I met the hubby, where it didn’t matter that we were broke grad students because we could sit and watch the movie ‘Grumpy Old Men’ and think it was the best date ever. 

TANGET – So literally THE first time Jacob and I hung out he invited me to stop by and watch a movie after I was done studying.  We lived in this moldy old building, that used to be a seminary which means the rooms are the size of tombs, we had communal bathrooms, and the kitchen was in the basement, ‘fondly’ called the ‘dungeon’ and it was also the laundry room.  So Jacob’s room was literally 11 feet by 9 feet, so all he could fit in there was his bed, a wooden chair, and desk/tv stand.  So I ended up stuck sitting in this wooden chair which was the most uncomfortable thing EVER.  Jacob was quite comfy using his bed as a sofa.  Why didn’t I just sit on the bed with him?  Because we are just THAT PRUDE.  And we left the door open so that we would not give the wrong impression to the other seminarians.  And yes the movie was ‘Grumpy Old Men’.  So each movie I would end up bringing more pillows and blankets to try to make that dang chair somewhat comfortable.  And with each movie I noticed the wood chair got moved closer to where Jacob was sitting and one night our arms brushed up against each other!  OMG!

Why this tangent?  Because that is something I also miss about Boston.  Jacob and I met, fell in love, and got married there.  Things were simple and we didn’t care that we had no money to do stuff, we were just happy being with each other.  We were newlyweds, we lived on the beach, and it was great. 

There was no questions about fertility, no worries about having kids, no scary doctors appointments that eroded your future hopes and left you confused and scared.  No month after month of peeing on sticks and analyzing every symptom only to find out that you were in fact NOT pregnant. Infertility consumes you, it is your every waking thought and nightmare.  You cannot just ‘not think about it’.  That’s like having cancer and saying, ‘oh I just don’t let it stress me out’.  I miss that.  I miss being able to exhale, mentally, and not have this nagging thing over our heads.  It changes your perspective on everything  and I worry it has changed it permanently. 

I miss Boston.   I miss just being  ‘me’ and not ‘the pastor’s wife who can’t get pregnant’ which is my new name it seems.  We are getting ready to gear up for our next attempt at using medical intervention to get pregnant.  I think my mental image that I will try to keep in my mind through this process will be Boston and who I was then.  I know I am still that person inside.  And I’m gonna race down every escalator.  Here’s one of my fav songs right now:

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One response to “I still fight the urge to walk down the escalator

  1. You go Girl

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