"When I go abroad I always sail from Boston since it is such a pleasant place to get away from."
-Oliver Herford
Gladly, my new home hasn't inspired these words from me. In fact, I'm considering leaving my parent's in NJ early, I'm so anxious to buy some furniture, put up some photos on the walls and settle in. You would too after 48 hours on the road and in the airports during the holiday rush.
My flight would have been missed either way, but I did experience some luck on my 2 day trek to Boston from Aspen. The last night in Aspen I did my normal revelry, waking up in someone else's bed in someone else's condo. Through a morning haze I glanced at my wrist watch and noticed it was 7:30. The bus to Denver to catch my plane left at 6am.
I ran back to my condo packed in seconds and began racking my brain for plan B to get to Denver while I microwaved some leftover grits. Then my phone rang, "Megan? Are you still here? The bus arrived late. We're going to leave now." The Gods had smiled upon me!
I made it just in time to hop on the back of the line into the bus. I settled in. Eating my grits I had thrown into a paper cup on my way out the door, I thanked my lucky stars. No matter that my name during roll-call elicited some loud boos from the crowd (they had been waiting 2 hours in the cold while I had slept soundly through the alarm)--I was on board!
Of course with the tardiness of the bus and the heavy snow, we all still missed our flights, but at least I didn't have to hitchhike into Denver.
When I finally made it into Boston the next day, the 2 feet of snow there made Aspen pale in comparison. We spent a good long time digging the car out of it's mini-snow mountain. It was all worth it when I lugged my suitcase up the stairs in my beautiful 3-story victorian house--I was home.
Boston, such a pleasant place to come home to.
My flight would have been missed either way, but I did experience some luck on my 2 day trek to Boston from Aspen. The last night in Aspen I did my normal revelry, waking up in someone else's bed in someone else's condo. Through a morning haze I glanced at my wrist watch and noticed it was 7:30. The bus to Denver to catch my plane left at 6am.
I ran back to my condo packed in seconds and began racking my brain for plan B to get to Denver while I microwaved some leftover grits. Then my phone rang, "Megan? Are you still here? The bus arrived late. We're going to leave now." The Gods had smiled upon me!
I made it just in time to hop on the back of the line into the bus. I settled in. Eating my grits I had thrown into a paper cup on my way out the door, I thanked my lucky stars. No matter that my name during roll-call elicited some loud boos from the crowd (they had been waiting 2 hours in the cold while I had slept soundly through the alarm)--I was on board!
Of course with the tardiness of the bus and the heavy snow, we all still missed our flights, but at least I didn't have to hitchhike into Denver.
When I finally made it into Boston the next day, the 2 feet of snow there made Aspen pale in comparison. We spent a good long time digging the car out of it's mini-snow mountain. It was all worth it when I lugged my suitcase up the stairs in my beautiful 3-story victorian house--I was home.
Boston, such a pleasant place to come home to.
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