This is my Summer of Yes. After spending so many years worrying about what other people think and being overly practical, I’m finally doing whatever seems fun an enriching. So, three weeks ago, I bought a plane ticket to visit my best friend in Boston where she has been working on her thesis for the last 1000 years. And a plane ticket under $200? How could I say no to kismet?
The flight itself was actually one of the better ones in my life. It was over before I could fully commit to that new documentary on Netflix about the murdered nuns. When I finally got to Boston and got my things together, Harriet and I began an hour long adventure called: “Where the fuck is our Uber?” (FYI: The only Uber you can get after 10 is one of the nicer ones, which means big $$).
After arriving to our destination, though, Harriet took me to this place called Redbones where you can get some of the best Southern food you’ll ever have (she said, as a Southerner). I know the food photo might make you say, “Man, that sure is a brown plate.” You’d be right, but that’s how you know the place is legit. After inhaling my weight in mashed potatoes, we went to Harriet’s digs and crashed out in all the wonder of an apartment in the summer with no A/C. I don’t think I even noticed.
The next morning had us up at 7:30, because neither one of us knows what it means to relax. Freshened for the day, we were killing it in red and yellow, as you can see.
Struggling with my depression for most of my life, I have to say that very few things make me consistently happy the way hanging out with Harriet does. I often think she feels the same way about me, but it is hard to know exactly what someone is thinking and feeling at any given minute. Anyway. Knowing me as well as she does, breakfast was the first order of business.
They tell me that Boston in the summertime is supposed to be pretty mild until the end of July, but I’ll go ahead and disagree. The heat and humidity up here is almost on par with Atlanta, which is bunk. Here I was hoping for a light breeze, but now I have to whip out the short dresses with no sleeves before I burn to a crisp.
At any rate, the day went on in that easy companionship and affection of any old friendship. Harriet took me to her haunts, we laughed, and walked a lot. Seriously, I cannot impress upon you the sheer amount of walking that was done yesterday. I saw Tufts University, met some of her friends, and then finally took a midday siesta before having to walk to the store for some groceries. I’m not entirely sure you’ve lived until you’ve carried a six pack home in your purse.
Towards the end of the day, I found myself in the middle of a practice for kete, which is a drumming practice from Ghana. They let me shake a rattle. I was a pro. In fact, I was so good that the crew invited me for fufu (a staple in the Ghanaian diet) and booze. It’s funny how food can make people friendly, especially in a hands on meal like this. Seriously, we all ate out of the bowl, using the fufu to scoop up broth and goat. At the end, we passed the bowl around to slurp up everything else. It was the best night I’ve had in awhile. Here’s to many more!