...or, better known as the last unmarried thirty-something renter in Southie...
Monday, July 6, 2009
Dateline: Cando ND 7/4/09
Sometimes you have to get up from 4 hours of sleep to go and stand 45 minutes in the Minneapolis St. Paul International Airport security line at 6 a.m., after which you sprint the length of the E Concourse (to the end gate, natch) only to miss the flight back to Boston even after they "paged you for 20 minutes" and then pay $100 for the privilege of getting on another flight back to Boston that doesn't leave for 3 more hours, to get on the plane, only to get off the plane in Boston and onto the Green Line with 221 sweaty tourists at Government Center so you can all stand belly-to-butt for 4 stops, then step out at Copley into a solid hotness as you dodge bicyclists and construction workers spreading tar at the corner of Dartmouth Street and cars who disobey Yield to Pedestrian signs and more tourists so busy looking up at the Prudential Tower that they also fail to Yield to Pedestrians in a way that makes you wish that personal space in the city wasn't a fantasy.
So then you remember Fourth of July parades in small towns where you didn't have an internet connection or a cell phone signal for 4 days, and take a breath of appreciation for the place you came from.
She rents an apartment in a neighborhood of trendy condos.
Her bike is vintage Raleigh. Her car is from 1991.
The cat's litter box is next to her bed and she doesn't own a dresser.
She likes to make fun of herself.
Occasionally she runs marathons.
And yes, she has to wear glasses. Contacts are not an option.