Boston

"You can leave Boston, but Boston never leaves you."

I heard that the other day, after the bombings. I've been watching CNN for two days now, like everyone else, trying to get a grip on the Boston Marathon attacks.

While I was in Boston (okay, the Boston area), I mostly hated it. Hated the cold New England weather and the weird road system, hated the traffic, hated the high taxes and no happy hour, hated the fact that the restaurant/theater/nightlife scenes were vastly inferior to New York's (and that Bostonians took a perverse pride in that). Now, of course, I can't stop thinking about Boston and my time there.

Granted, all the good things about my time there were centered around my former workplace, Craigie on Main. I'd love to work there again someday, and see my friends again; I would not love to live in Boston again (see above reasons). But a tragedy tends to blur out the bad memories of a place. It makes you remember the good things.

Fortunately, everyone I know is okay (if having 9/11 flashbacks). I'm thinking of you, Boston, and everyone I know there. I'm remembering that despite the snow, and the traffic, and the poorly-designed interstates, people live there for a reason--that Bostonians have an inner core of strength and resilience that makes them laugh in the face of blizzards and rush hour on I-95. That I worked with some really awesome people. That I had some good times there. That New York pulled together in an amazing way after 9/11, and that Boston will pull together in an amazing way after this.

Big hugs, guys. You're wicked awesome.