Pahk Yo’ Cah and Staht Yo’ Heaht: Boston, MA

It is early, my friends.  My flight leaves Boston at 8:25, Eastern time this morning.  I called a cab company around midnight to set up a pickup for 6:45.  I tossed and turned all night because I was nervous that I was going to miss my flight and I checked my phone around 5:00—to see that the cab company had called twice at 4:45 with a voicemail saying, “your cab is downstairs.”  I may have shit my pants a little, but figured I would call a cab when I woke up at 6:15 and request a new one.  Well, I couldn’t fall back to sleep—which was probably for the better since the cab company called AGAIN at 5:45 to see what time I actually wanted my pick up. I can hereby debunk all those yelp reviews that accused them of being inefficient and rude.  They’re hyper-efficient and hyper-in-contact, aka everything I’m against.

I got into Boston at the ripe hour of 5:30am on Sunday morning.  I took the red eye out of SF and decide to have a sleep-aid to make sure that I slept for the duration of the flight.  I figured one Nyquil should do it, and still allow me to be functioning when I landed in Boston.  Well, I washed the Nyquil down with a manhattan and passed the F out on the plane (which was fine because the tool next to me was singing and being rude to his girlfriend)—and then couldn’t really wake up once we got to Boston.  It was like one of those nightmares where you’re being chased and running slowly… or like that time I took Tylenol PM and had to crawl to the bathroom in the middle of the night because my legs wouldn’t work.  Anyway, I was drugged from here til next week, and decided to take a cab to SCUer Hayley’s apartment.  She met me at the front door and we promptly went back to sleep until 10:00.  I probably could have slept through the day and night and into Monday.

I am perpetually tired and perpetually hungry.  I’m glad all this flying makes me seem “exhausted” and not just “lazy.”  I wonder how long I can ride this jet lag thing….

So shit gets a little weird here.  And I’m moderately embarrassed about it, but can’t really skirt around it.  I have internet friends.  Friends I’ve “met’ on the internet, specifically from a musicals message board that I started posting on in 1998.  That’s a long ass time.  And while I have never met these people in real life, we’ve been communicating since I was 12.  These people have “seen” me graduate 8^th grade, high school, and college.  And it seems totally creepy and totally sketchy, but some of us are facebook/texting friends and have kept in touch for a long time.  Some of us have crossed paths over the years, intentionally and unintentionally, and the “stigma” of meeting people on the internet seems to have passed since so many people get married from the ‘net now…So when the time came to hang out with some of them in Boston, I couldn’t refuse.

Internet friend Amy and Internet friend Christina picked me up at SCUer Hayley’s apartment on Sunday and took me to Plymouth, home of the infamous rock and delicious lobster, among other things.  Yes, I got in a car with strangers.  I use the word “strangers” in the “haven’t met in real life, but talk regularly on AIM/Facebook” sense. (I realize how awful this sounds….).  We ate lobster and looked at the rock which is a decent size, as far as historic rocks are concerned.  It was a fun afternoon, and then we went to Castle Island and watched planes land and take off.  And that was scary because they look like they are going to hit you.

Sunday evening, Hayley and I went on a walk through Boston and wandered into Cheers.  Despite the theme song, nobody knew my name… or even asked.  I took a picture with a Shelley Long cardboard cut out, but did not have a beer with Norm. Disappointment.

We met up with Wildcat Robby who just started his freshman year at Boston University a couple weeks ago.  He is doing great and we had fun catching up over dinner and ice cream. 

I woke up Monday morning with a firey throat and a disgusting cough.  All the flying around in recycled air seems to have caught up with me.  I stayed in bed until 12:30ish and then Hayley and I went and walked some of the Freedom Trail.  After Hayley went back to class, I walked some more of the trail, stopped in Modern Pastry for a softball-sized “cream puff” and wandered around.   It was cool, but made me realize that I know nothing about American history. And I’m talking nothing.  When I saw the tour guides dressed in period costumes, I laughed outloud, and eavesdropped on a few tours.  Boston history is American history and the buildings are old and beautiful.  It was pretty cool to be in the church where Paul Revere’s lanterns warned everyone of those sneaky British.  Neat!

Monday evening I met up with TACSCer Mary who took me to see a Red Sox game at Fenway. For those of you who know me, you know my interest in baseball is limited at best, and that’s when it concerns the Giants. And Red Sox fans, and Bostonians in general, are cutthroat and diehard and intense and a little rude and don’t say their Rs correctly.  I haven’t seen Mary in 2 years and was happy to catch up with her, so we snuck out a little early—even before they played “Sweet Caroline” on the organ—and went to a bar for delicious beverages and conversation. (How’d I do at spinning that, Mary?)

Tuesday morning, I slept in a little, and then Hayley and I hopped on the T bound for Hahvahd. We got off the T, walked around a bit, felt inferior/poor, had some lunch, and headed back to Boston.  I had my cranky pants on and needed to nap them away. BECAUSE…

There was a full night ahead!  Another internet acquaintance just opened in the 1^st National Tour of Wicked.  And while he no longer posts on the message boards, we have all kept tabs on him and his career so we can ride his coattails.  So Hayley and I tried our hand at the lottery for $25 tickets.  Mine was the last name picked and we got 2 seats right in the orchestra section.  Then Hayley and I met up with TACSCer Michael and TACSCer Mary for an early dinner.   I haven’t seen Michael much since the summer we spent at the TACSC office watching Full House reruns working together. It was a fantacsctic evening.

Then Hayley and I booked it back to the theatre for Wicked.  Internet Friend Amy and Internet Friend Christina had talked to Internet Acquaintance Corey about meeting up for drinks after his opening night, but no one ever heard back from him.  So we did what any reasonable person would do and went to the stage door to find him.  (I told you shit got weird). Corey was very nice and at least pretended not to be too wierded out by the whole thing, and we went to grab a couple beers and catch up/meet for the first time. 

So, now you know about my semi-embarrassing internet life, and that I got into a car with semi-strangers even though I had to go to therapy in the 4^th grade because I was afraid of being kidnapped.

Early posting, early flight to Seattle to spend 30 whirlwind hours up there.  Looking forward to it—and to sleeping on the plane!

Loaves and Fishes,

G