My Historic Boston

First, to all my Aussie and Kiwi friends, Happy ANZAC Day. I bought some ANZAC biscuits in your honor.

I’ve been in Boston for less than 12 hours, but it feels like I’ve journeyed back in time. Things are familiar to me – same stores, same coffee shops, same bus routes – yet somehow I feel like an alien, an outsider, walking around town. I even had to pull out a map to remember which T station I was headed for. So sad.

It’s strange to walk by places that used to be my regular lunch spot, my bus stop, my CVS, and now feel like they belong to other people. I walk around and think, “That’s where I had my 23rd birthday,” or “That’s the corner where I met the ex for the last time.” The whole city is a three-dimensional scrapbook and it’s hard to take it all in at once.   

There are a lot of good memories here. Like the first place I saw Jason Mraz headline a show, or the record store where I bought my first Jason Mraz CD. It fills me with warm fuzzies just thinking about it.

I also had the greatest hot chocolate in the world this afternoon. It’s served up at a little place called LA Burdick in Harvard Square, and no trip to Boston is complete without a cup or five.

Tomorrow: A visit to the alma mater. Go BU!

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