And then life changes

So, it's been a while since I wrote a lovely little note.

I'm sure you all missed it!

I left Alaska.  It wasn't working for me.  Cold.  Bears.  Cold.

I never ran into a bear.  And I don't think I'd mind too much.

But I'm not fond of the cold.  So I returned to Mississippi.  And volunteered in an elementary school for a little while.  But I kept the food stamps.  Apparently Alaskan food stamps are valid everywhere.

They mostly went towards squid and exotic foods at the Vietnamese market near by.

On April 1, I abandoned Mississippi, visited home for a couple of weeks, and moved on to Boston.

This has been a wise decision.  It turns out I like Boston.  And trains.

The people are pretentious, but not rude.  And they're generally happy to talk to me when I start a conversation.

Or ask directions.  Though they get just as confused as I do.  Nobody really believes in labeling anything up here.  What's the point of a street name after all?  If you're good enough to be from Boston, you'd know the street and wouldn't need the name.

The accent is fantastic.  Something to aspire to.  If only I could do recordings.  The best are the cute old women who suddenly start speaking and sound like they've been on the docks all their lives.

It's pretty amazing.

The mixture of people is pretty incredible. Those who have been here all their lives and who are, of course, conservative, and the young professionals.  Who love Boston because it's a city, but a very responsible city.

Then there are the policemen who stand 'guarding' construction sites as workers come and go (not at night, just during the day).

A couple of weeks ago, I attended the Greek Independence Parade.  Celebrating independence from the Turks (several floats seemed to suggest the Greeks are still oppressed).  I stood out a bit as a tall Anglo-Saxon girl.  But the fine women next to me in their golden bangles kindly pointed out their brother and told me a good bit of his personal information.

Always appreciated.

More amazing though, was the fact that Boston police closed off one of its busiest streets to accommodate the parade.  In fact, I've seen the city shut down streets for several little leaguers crossing to a pre-season party.  (OK, there were hundreds of them, but they closed the street and backed traffic up at least half a mile on either side).

I also watched the Boston Marathon.  I managed to get to Wellesley College to take part in the scream tunnel.  Who knew that watching hoards of people run 26 some miles could be so exciting?  I got several sweaty kisses and high fives.

Because if you're going to run a marathon you might as well kiss somebody halfway.

This city knows how to celebrate.  And I came at a good time.  Summer seems promising.

All to prepare me for another cold winter.

Someday I will learn.