I remember driving through Massachusetts thinking, “Where the heck is Boston, I don’t even see a building.” At that point, I’d probably listened to ‘Shipping Up to Boston’ like 12 times and my anticipation was quickly diminishing with every field of grass I passed.
But, in a matter of like, five minutes, I somehow exited the highway and found myself in the same neighborhood as Tom Brady. Crazy how things like that happen.
The neighborhood where I’m staying screams, “This house was built in 1860 and it has CHARACTER,” like I’ve never seen before. My roommates happen to be two of six college students living on our street, so you could say it’s fairly family friendly.
Regardless, if you take the T (fun Boston lingo for subway/trolley contraption that can take you pretty much anywhere), you’ll find yourself on one of like 50 college campuses or some cool street that’s probably historically important in some way. Or the aquarium, those are always the places I seem to end up.
When I left Michigan, I was a little scared to make the move to the east coast. How are you supposed to take your car to Meijer and load up with a month’s worth of groceries? How do you go fishing? Is there a Rick’s equivalent? Can you still whip your hand out and point to where you’re from or is that not acceptable? (Update: it’s okay but really confusing to east coast people so I stopped doing it.) Turns out — almost everything I love about Ann Arbor and Michigan, I can find a complement for here.
There are amazing brunch places (nothing will ever beat Ama’s spinach/turkey wrap, but I’ve found a close second.) There are grocery stores similar to Meijer. There are still beaches, except I don’t go to far out in the water here because sharks scare me even though I would have to travel miles into the water before seeing, like, a turtle.
Home away from home actually feels very home-y, and not necessarily because Boston and Ann Arbor are similar. It’s more that I have things in my life here that remind me of home — I have two great college roommates, I’m in a city filled with (free!) concerts and museums, and, most importantly, food festivals.
This is probably a good time to tell everyone I’m moving to the basement of a pasta restaurant in the Italian district and never looking back. #bye
It’s easy to get caught up in what you’re losing when you go to a new place — familiarity, ease, comfort — but I’m a firm believer that you can go just about anywhere in this world and make it a home. And even though Michigan will always be my first home, Boston has been a great second for short time I’ve been here, and I’m very grateful for that.