Ping!

Ping! Is the weird pang I get in my stomach and bronchial tubes when I am homesick. I just got homesick as I was putting on my terry cloth sweatshirt so I could curl up and watch Outfoxed.

Am I from the Land of Terrycloth or Biased Right Wing Media? No, darlings. I’m from Boston, Massachusetts. I’ve lived in Needham, Brookline, South Boston/Quincy, Back Bay, Kenmore Square, Beacon Hill, Beacon Street, and The South End.

It’s October. (Is it October where you are?) And all of the windows are open in my apartment, as they always are. And I just caught a whiff of…..nothing. No smells. Now I know that LA has great smells.

Let me digress here. I hate when people make fun of LA. I don’t know why. I’m not from here and if I didn’t “have” to live here for “work” I most likely wouldn’t? But when my NYC friends come in and they are: 1.) “Confused by driving” and complain (as if cramming on the subway against people’s boners and people cutting their nails is much better) 2.) People who are like, “You can’t get wasted here because you have to drive!” Think big, my alcoholics. You can get a sober friend to drive. You can take a cab. You can drink at home. Or you can just stop drinking an hour before you leave said bar/party and have six Diet Cokes. 3.) “LA is so spread out!” Yeah. I’d much prefer a city where cockroaches, rats, people (as Madonna says The Burgeoise and The Rebel) come together and bunk up. 4.) “There is no culture in LA!” Hmm. Perhaps not as many Broadway shows or Chamber Music Concerts but let me ask you, you the person who just complained that they can’t get drunk enough, how much of your hours that you’ve clocked as a NYC’er were spent in museums? You can also go to museums here, (You can drive to the spread out Getty), Hollywood Bowl, theatres, and of course every underground scene, which every city has.

Anyway, the other complaint might be that LA doesn’t have seaons. That’s why I moved here. I was sick of being sad due to lack of light and having to wear layers six months out of the year.

BUT! October is one season that really kicks ass on the East Coast. The humidity is gone and it’s just cold enough for your awesome Fall Wardrobe, but not so cold that you have to wear a coat. And the leaves turn, fireplaces burn, smells come out of homes. You can walk over the Mass Ave bridge and watch the boaters on the Charles, or you can run along the Charles at the Esplanade and watch the leaves turn.

I lived in NYC for almost four years and I used to walk down 7th Avenue in Brooklyn on Halloween night. About a mile down and back. Holding a hot chocolate and watching the kids and parents trick-or-treat, leaves swirling, my nose was cold, crisp air.

However, that’s Brooklyn. Not Manhattan. I never really enjoyed warm, cozy moments in NYC proper. At least not in Autumn. But BOSTON. Oh man. I used to go to Salem and visit the graves and see the House of Seven Gables and all the cool Witch Museums. They burned ‘witches’ there! How awesomely gruesome!

Boston, is a clean enough city, (just don’t swim in the Charles. Although, I did, and I’m fine.) that you can smell fireplaces and hot cider even when cabs whip by you. It’s awesome. A lot of people have told me that it’s like Vancouver, but nice try, Vancouver. Boston’s way more awesome.

I guess I’m homesick because my city is not getting as much attention as it did this time last year when the world seemed to be in love with the old birthplace of Paul Revere’s Ride.

Oh! The North End and it’s cobblestone streets, where you can see Paul Revere’s plaques and get some awesome Italian food. And you’re close enough to the “wharf” that you can smell fish!

Anyway, here, between Hollywood and Sunset, I don’t get many whiffs of fall. No fireplaces near by. There’s three bars. I can hear a loud band right now. It sort of smells like Chinese food in my hallway. I can hear the homeless kitties crunching in the bushes below. That’s about it.

I wish I had more sensory excitement right now, of the East Coast variety.

I feel sad. I sort of wish I had made it a priority to get East this October. I forgot it was a promise I made to myself last year. I went in August, but, waah, I wanna go now.

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