Boston is on fire. I mean, not in the literal sense, but in that “holy-shit-is-this-an-oven” sort of way. Before I got here, Harriet warned me that it might be a little cool. Foolishly, I packed a sweater. I did not need a sweater.
Now, as a Southerner, I’m prepared for a good deal of heat and humidity. HOWEVER, Down South, people fully embrace A/C on full blast. Boston, though? It seems like few places are even aware of its existence. Do you know how hard it is to sleep in an apartment that is stewing in a dead heat?
I digress. I’m trying not to complain as much. In fact, on Tuesday, I had the chance to chill out in a very air-conditioned seminar room to work on my thesis with other Master-degree nerds. Later that night, instead of going out like a normal 24-year-old, I spent my time with Harriet and her roommates to watch Skin Wars like it had always been that way. It was then that I felt like I could, in fact, live in Boston as a young professional. The job hunt started soon after.
Playing in the rain, babe.
When the rain finally arrived yesterday afternoon in an explosion of thunder and hail, I could have cried. Harriet and spent some time playing music in her room with the window open. She let me play this 10-string instrument she got from a man from a Ghana; and then proceeded to play me a song about a man who works to get into bed with a woman. He fails. The song, apparently, is closer to Harriet’s real like experience than I would have thought.
Meanwhile, I jammed out on the guitar like a cellist desperately pretending that she still knows something about what it means to play music with another musician. I just sort of did my best and enjoyed the familiarity. And Harriet, bless her, let me do my thing. In days like these, the Summer of Yes, I still think that I can be a concert cellist if I worked hard enough.
Dealing with the heat the best way we know how.
For dinner last night we went to this Irish pub (plenty of those here, for sure) to celebrate Harriet’s roommate’s pre-birthday. We had snacks, drinks, and some real ass conversation (my favorite) under the backdrop of some live swing/jazz music. It is always fascinating to me how quickly you can get to know someone when everyone agrees to put the bullshit aside. It’s the best way to get to know someone quickly.
When we got home, we put the rest of Skin Wars on and watched it to the finale (our boy, Rick, won). While it made me happy to be there, I felt myself suffer this prick of melancholy. I don’t want to leave. But, this is the Summer of Yes, and I’m going to do my best to wring out the best of every moment. Who knows, Boston, you might be getting yourself a new transplant.