Friday, February 20, 2009
Ashley wanted to take us to a Jewish bakery in Brookline, so we faithfully boarded the T and headed whatever direction Brookline is in, our innocent gentile minds preparing for the assured feast before us.
Walking from the bus stop to the bakery, we plodded past several idyllic, tree-lined streets. One of which happened to be Beals Street. Does that not sound familiar?
With this historic site at our very fingertips we faced a troubling dilemma: stop and explore, or eat?
Luckily, we chose food. That's the promising future generation for you.
Because it was early morning and I can't function without a well-balanced, nutritive meal to start my day, I got a loaded bagel and a cookie. We sat down to eat at a nearby park.
Somewhere in there is lox, red onion, carbs, tomato, schmear, more carbs, and some poppy seeds. It sounds a lot better than it tasted.
Just like this looked a lot better than it tasted. And it didn't look that great to begin with. (I'm sorry! I keep forgetting Tracy Jordan said I shouldn't end a sentence with a preposition at.)
Lauren's promising chocolate pastry flake thing was similarly disappointing.
In other words, I'm sorry, Kupels Bakery. I come from Los Angeles, where there are a lot of Jews. Come over sometime and we'll go out for bagels. (P.S., I can claim a mild knowledge of the spectrum of Jewish cuisine. During a Seder my former boyfriend's father repeatedly pushed gefilte fish onto my plate, mistaking my polite chew-swallow for enthusiasm.)
Lily just randomly brought up a memory she had of this excursion. She said we'd sat down to eat and were enjoying sunning ourselves on the grass when we heard the sounds of cicadas around us. Lily says it was the first time she'd ever heard them in real life, and remembers the incident fondly as a sweet summer's moment: the warm air, the buzz of cicadas and the taste of fresh breakfast with friends. Well, I'm glad someone thought it was fresh.
After we'd brushed stalecrumbs and wiped grossthings off ourselves, we ventured down shady Beals Street in search of our President's First Home.
Passed some winners in the Sweet House Game.
"Look, guys! Kim is walking in the street!" - Ashley
And reached our exalted leader's birthplace. What wonder! What glory, what magic!
We followed signs to the back of the house. We entered a small retail shop filled with political trinkets. We took a deep breath, looked adoringly at those selfless volunteers behind the counter, and asked breathlessly for a tour.
Unfortunately, it cost money. And we're poor.
So back on the bus it was! Away, foul peasants!
We ended up in Boston actual again, this time to gaze at the state's gold-domed capitol, where Ashley's friend Marita works.
Of course, this Hooker fella had to be completely in my way.
If you could just shift, that'd be great.
Seriously, guy? Move!
What insolence. Nuts.
I ended up being the bigger person and moving.
Skipped over to Faneuil Hall, where I had my only taste of clam chowder my whole trip (I need to meet more people who like seafood).
Even though it came from a tub and was served in a mushy vessel of what the 12-year-old with bare hands behind the counter claimed was bread, it was (embarrassingly) probably the creamiest, thickest chowder I've ever had. Man, I've got to expand my horizons. Sorry I was probably too excited to notice my gleaming water bottle was in focus.
Here are some buildings.
Laurens usually don't show up in front of buildings, but it's not every day Lauren shows up in Boston!
I am honestly embarrassed to admit we went to Trader Joe's again, but!! it wasn't to ogle. Ashley needed groceries. Because we hadn't gotten enough the first two times. No, honestly. It also rained a little bit and we bought some clothes at H&M (unrelated). That's all I remember. I think I woke up in an iced bathtub later, but that was all fuzzy.