I wrote this after my last final at Emerson College in Boston, Massachusetts. Within 3 days I would be leaving a good portion of my life behind to move to California. Somehow, this transition was different from moving to Australia for University...
You are...
One-thousand sparkling lights on the skyline over the Charles River, a city where 20-something young professionals scramble to Houston's and Tia's On the Waterfront for after work drinks in hopes of finding a husband before all of their high school friends are already married, the BPL a place where the intellectual type, photography students and the homeless can coexist, a vomit drenched Green Line on Saint Patty's Day, Unreported but Graded Sexual Harassment at Underbar, spontaneous road trips to Merri Land... 'and they say he is only Magic on a Skateboard...'
You are...
a stiff tequila sunrise at Model along with The only Kool Cigarette, the cities most attractive men jam packed into one Elite Square (Harvard), an elusive red light district on the Lower Washington, pretentious college students arguing about Existentialism in Espresso Royale, a syringe studded alley behind the intersection of Tremont & Boylston, the young man who screams outside my window at 3am "OUCH! You bit my cock!", a dirty-ho at Sunset Cantina & Grill, the seals outside of The Aquarium at 4 Am, backstage-downstairs in the Middle East Club, the Dewars Lounge & Skybox at the Celtics vs. the Heat...
You are...
Hundreds of high school kids skipping school on a steamy June afternoon to drink '40s while cliff-jumping at Orange, beaver-fever, the junkie who mooned me, girls from Revere, getting lost in Chelsea at 3AM, spending 2 weeks of my life in a warehouse somewhere in South Boston, Brian at Shag!, my Film 1 on the Charles River Bridge, Sweetwater during Emerson's Senior Week, Halloween and cold, yet naked, standing in a never-ending line at Chacarero, drunk on Lansdowne before the game begins and waddling into Fenway with a bottle of Rum wedged in your skirt...
You are...
wearing a black patent leather nurse costume in the back of an ambulance at Renneslaur Field in Connecticut while someone is retching on your shoes and the air around your brain is filling with smoke, a hipster sweatshop where 80% of the employees are sleeping together but work-related relationships are 'discouraged', Iffboston.org, American Repertory Theatre, the Berklee Film Scoring Kids, New Years' eve in the West Village of NYC, the Video Music Awards, treasure-hunting in Beacon Hill, T-Rex on the prowl, My Rooftop, The Three Little Piglets Forever til Death Do Us part (plus one baby), ambulence for one at 180 Tremont, thanks....a house show or two in Brawlston...an emotionless bangle-slinging hipster dancing to her own music... a street corner tuna slinger... You Are My City
You are.... much more than I could ever acknowledge or recognize with some stupid little piece of writing....
(My old 'hood in Beacon Hill!!)
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