Kris
WARNING: This post is much more talk and picture heavy than the last. Just so you know.
My brother’s promotion/pinning ceremony was on Tuesday, June 18–the real reason any of us were in Boston, period. Thankfully, everything went off without a hitch and now I guess I can call my brother ‘Captain’ if I want to. (Fat chance, since I’m his older sister.) Anyhow, I’m very proud of him and always will be. Congratulations, Captain Joel!
The next two days were an absolute blur. My grandmother and mother were determined to see the Boston Museum of Fine Arts before they flew out later that day, so we took the Red Line on the T from Davis Square to Park St, then the Green Line to the MFA stop. Luckily, my friend Kenny stepped in like the boss that he is and comped our tickets as an MFA employee. (Thanks again!) Because I was worried about how easily my grandmother might tire as well as their impending flight time, we focused on two areas only: the Samurai! exhibit, and the European Art wing. Still a substantial amount of information to process in 3 hours, but we did the best we could! Some highlights:
I’ve been to the MFA before (in 2009), but I never tire of the history and artifacts housed within its walls. The last time I went, I think I spent… a good 6-8 hours there and still felt as if I had more to look at. Truly worth a visit if you happen to be in Boston. (My favorite artwork is housed in the European Art wing in the French Impressionists room. Monét’s various sets of nature at different times during the day… breathtaking.)
My parents flew out later that night, leaving me and my brother to our own devices for another day. Beer o’clock, anyone?
I’m so glad that we were able to have a low-key night–beer, pub food, and the Stanley Cup Finals–but even more glad that we went to the Harpoon Brewery Tour the next morning. Joel’s friends are nerdy, hilarious and fun–they made a good tour even better. And you really can’t improve much on a tour that designates 15-20 minutes for hanging out in a tap room full of beer. All-you-can-drink? Don’t mind if we do!Anyhow, I’m really glad that they weren’t freaked out by my paparazzo tendencies. I managed to get some great candid shots! (Obviously not the one below, of course).
We managed to cram a lot of eating into the few short hours prior to my plane’s departure as well. Harpoon Brewery served soft pretzels with a long list of sauce choices. Mine was a little too salty and burned at the bottom, sadly–but it photographs well:
We then blazed over to Massachusetts General Hospital (MGH) for a halal chicken and rice food truck. Joel knew how crazy I was about the Halal cart in NYC and was adamant about taking me here before I flew out. Isn’t he awesome?
The Verdict: It staved off the big hole in my heart that is shaped like Halal Chicken and Rice for now, but still cannot compare. But the service is friendly and the food is fast, so for a day drinker like me at the time–it was perfect!
Speaking of day drinking… ugh. Why do I always forget how miserable it makes me to fight off the inevitable mid-day nap, then evening hangover that always follows? You think that I’d be wiser in my late twenties, but that’s definitely not the case. Even though I was groggy and my flight was inching ever-closer, I was determined to bring food for myself onto the plane for the trip back to LA. If I was going to spend money on dinner, better it be at a local delicious spot than yucky airplane food.
Enter Dave’s Fresh Pasta–just one of many delicious small businesses that practically saturate the suburbs of Boston. I was unable to order said pasta because I loathed the idea of carrying a bowl around the airport, but they had a separate sandwich menu; I ordered a prosciutto and fig sandwich with buffalo mozzarella on focaccia bread. And of all the things I should’ve taken a picture of… but alas, I ate the sandwich too quickly! You will have to do with the menu of sandwich selections:
By the time I left Boston, my hangover had finally subsided and I was full of delicious sandwich. I doubt this will be the last time I visit this fantastic city–but it might be for a while, since my brother is moving to Sunnyvale in a month. However, as much as I loved my time in Boston… I was terribly relieved to be home as soon as I stepped outside of LAX and felt the hot, muggy air fill my senses. The police sirens in the distance, the honking of the taxis, the multitude of languages every which way you turn; it is the opposite of relaxing, but for me–it’s ‘welcome home!’ (Also: screw you, learn how to drive, HONK HONK. Haha. Oh, Los Angeles. You’re the best!)
