Someone once told me that when you always complain about the weather you have truly become a northeastern. Well, if the shoe fits and this shoe is a rainboot and snowboot that is craving a sandal. At work, we talk about the weather five hundred times a day and somewhere between those mindless conversations I've just accepted that it's cold, it will always be cold and that is the end of that.
In attempt to escape the weather, we headed to Portland, Maine to explore an area I've only seen postcards of and celebrate 25 years of Kev's life. The weather was warmer than expected and the town cuter than imagined. Filled with lighthouses, seafood, cobblestone roads and a love for the local mentality, the getaway was much needed and much appreciated. We ate delicious scallops and shrimp (oh yes I'm a pescatarian now...) and found a wonderful gluten free cafe for Sunday brunch. With full bellies and another state marked off on my bucket list, we headed back to Boston just in time to meet my brother, my one day sister-in-law and a family friend visiting from New York. As the sun set on another magical weekend, we sipped margs and laughed of our Novato days. A sweet reminder that the past is never erased even when you move far from it.
As the week continued, I had one thing on my mind- my best friend, my hero, my own George Banks was on his way to Boston. After celebrating Kev's actual birthday with silly presents and a typical trip to our favorite bookstore, my dad flew into Logan as I skipped all the way down the terminal to meet him. Sunday was filled with meeting families and friends over scrumptious cuisine and strolling the streets while thousands others joined who had flown in for Marathon Monday. The North End was packed as runners craved their carbs and I just craved for more time. Monday brought sunshine, my first sunburn of the season and the whole day with my dad. Granted we were cheering on Taylor (who flew like a Kenyan and finished with 3:11) I can't remember the last time it was just us. Our simple conversations were filled with meaning and memories. There were no doubts in life, just happiness and ease. As I've gotten older, we've become even better friends and somehow, even though we are miles apart, there is no one that knows me like he does.
Like all things, the weekend ended, the celebrations ceased and my pops returned to the Golden State. Luckily he got to peek into work and see where I spend my time. Even though I call him my friend there still is part of me that will always seek his approval of my life and decisions. Showing him this- showing him everything I've created for myself out here just made it more complete and more real. It also made me wish we could do a weekend brunch every weekend but I suppose skype will suffice for now.
So those deep breaths I was talking about- those sighs that remind me that everything is going to be okay- they occur much more often. They're almost natural. I'm no longer blindly searching for something but I think I've found my niche. I've got my routine but I'm ready for a little detour if it shows up. My days quickly pass with my favorite co-workers who really are just friends that work in the same company as me and I'm still cooking even though I discovered I'm allergic to basically every food group out there. In this journey, I don't know where exactly I am but I'm moving. And the progression is all that counts- it's the process not the destination that builds character. And these speed bumps are actually needed- someone once said time is only necessary so that everything doesn't happen at once. It's all happening and I'll take the good, the bad, the ugly and the magic. The beauty, the rise, the fall and everything in between.
