After a tumultuous past few days, I've finally moved out of South Boston and into my mew apartment, a.k.a. my grandmother's house in Waltham. Oh snap. Now I have a parlour. Friday night, Ern and I threw one last party to celebrate the end of an era- an Irish wake. We had a great time, but unfortunately I was too busy attempting to perform the zombie Thriller dance and spilling drinks on the guests to take many pictures. A lot of the old guard stopped in for one last hurrah, and I must say that we gave the old apartment a worthy sendoff. Despite the mouse problem and the crumbling windows, I'm going to miss the old digs. Well, not the apartment itself, but the location- right in the heart of Southie. Close to the the city, close to the beach, close to the lab. I lived there for six years and really loved it. Oh Southie, land of triple deckers and double parking, Irish pubs, teenage hoodlums, and noisy buses, you've got your own special brand of charm.
3 comments:
Sniff Sniff.
Love the veils!
Worked in Southie, and played ball in Southie, and had friends in Southie, for many years. It is, indeed, a special place, with all of its quirks and oddballs.
I only hope that when I die, the mourners look as lovely as you two do in your black and pearls :-)
you guys are too much! hysterical
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