bear

To say that the fall of 2004 was a transitional time for me is an understatement.

• I moved out of the Fenway, back to Porter Square


• noghri and I broke up


• I got my traditional breakup haircut (as much as people knock the concept, it has always come out AMAZING for me)


• I quit my awful job


• I fled to Hong Kong to visit my brother and recuperate from the trifecta of knockout punches


• I stopped checking the internet because every time I did the Yankees kept beating the Red Sox and I was convinced it was because I had abandoned my beloved studio in the Fenway, not even because I'd had the audacity to date a Yankees fan for the entire year previous!


• I checked the internet for the first time in a week on my way back from Hong Kong and the Sox had MADE A COMEBACK and a very nice Cubs fan ticket agent who understood got me on an earlier connection back to Boston


• The Sox REVERSED THE CURSE

And while all of this was going on, a new bookstore moved in, right next door to my grocery store, a five-minute walk from my new apartment.

Porter Square Books would be there for me over the next fifteen years, even as I moved incrementally further away from Porter Square as my life changed. So many random winter afternoons and summer mornings; always the first or second stop on Indie Bookstore Day because they opened so early. Heck, so many books I would buy from them on release day because with their 7 am opening time, I could pick them up on my way to the T in the morning! I've written often in these pages about how Harvard Square Books is where I'd end my nights, in the cozy basement as the snow fell outside; maybe when they closed at 11 pm, I'd scurry up the street and grab an ice cream cone before catching the T home. Porter Square Books is its early-bird complement, where I'd grab a book from them and tea and a pastry from Cafe Zing in-house. (Zing is still looking for their next partner; I harbor secret fantasies about a performance venue.)

When I made the biggest move of all, moving home to California just before the pandemic hit, they would endure through the early pandemic years. Living proof that local independent bookstores help stitch a community together, they continued to grow, and thrive. And eventually, outgrow their current space.

When I was in Cambridge last month, of course I stopped by 25 White Street one last time, picked up one last book from Porter Square Books, White St Edition. (Ali Hazelwood's Bride, for book club.) Gazed around the familiar warm, brightly-lit space filled with books and people, people reading their purchases in the seats by the windows while munching on summer rolls; soaked the nostalgia in amid the memories of so many hours browsing and buying books there. (And then hung out at noghri's house with him and his family and our friends later that evening. Growth and change and transformation I couldn't see in October 2004, but hoped for, long come to fruition.)

My first year in Boston, the fall of 2000, I lived near Porter Square then, too, and I frequented the Porter Exchange where Porter Square Books is moving. Affordable onigiri for dinner from Kotobukiya upstairs, and then I would wander into the infinitesimally tiny Barnes and Noble in the basement and browse for what few books they had (because it primarily functioned as a place to sell Lesley University merch), and think that, as much as I loved bookstores, the neighborhood deserved a much better one.

And now, there will once again be a bookstore in the Porter Ex, one I love, like there always should have been. They kicked things off with a chain of several hundred patrons helping to move the romance section 1000 feet across the square, and I wish I could have been there. I can't wait to see what they do with the place; hopefully I'll be back to visit in the spring!

Welcome home, Porter Square Books.

It took a lot longer to return to Boston for another visit than planned.

When we last hugged everyone "until next time," it was a chilly, slushy late December week in 2019; we stayed with bitty and arfur and baked up a storm, prepping for Jewmas on our last night in town. Made it to Burdicks and Harvard Books; managed to grab bellinis and tapas with Ingrid the night we flew in and the night before she flew out; admired danamae's adorable and fast-growing kids; checked out the fancy new French joint with mrieser. Bemused the BC crowd walking into chez noghri and Cris with a bewildering amount of home-baked cookies (chocolate toffee classics, (passionfruit) meringue swirls, (fivespice) chocolate hazelnut baklava, (raspberry) chocolate chip cookies, and Baby Yodas based on BA's black-and-white-and-green cookies), safely maintaining my reputation of being ~juuust~ a bit extra. Hugged Bitty and Arthur goodbye Christmas morning as it began to snow, blithely declaring that of course we'd be back soon and could paint our hands on their closet then. Missed jpallan and crschmidt due to illness, but weren't too concerned; we'd catch them next time, right?

( my heart, my heart; you don't have to go home in a straight line )

In the 90 seconds I just waited to cross the street here, over two dozen cars clipped the unprotected bike lane and an @mbta bus driver honked at bikers waiting for their turn in the appropriate designated spot. A cyclist died here less than a week ago, and they are far from the first, because our transportation policies and infrastructure promote this insanity to the tune of 35,000 lives per year. #VisionZero is not happening fast enough. #bikebos

Someday the Kendall bells will work again, right? I rang them 20 years ago on my first visit to Boston …

post-tags: instagram, crosspost Tonight is #Manhattanhenge; I'm observing #Kayakhenge. #sunset #summer

Cookie Number Three. #cookieride

"Is that a meat pie?" "Chocolate baklava." "Two, please." @zuzubar #tasteofcambridge

0. People are talking about NaNoWriMo; my last 3 months I haven't been able to write anything longer than a tweet. What's up with that?

1. HI HI OMG I MISSED YOU ALL SO MUCH HOW WERE YOUR SUMMERS?

( got married, moved (back) to Cambridge, the rest of my life since then )

Okay, that's enough of that. Basically, if you're curious about the last three months of my life, my Twitter is probably the best place to find out. Or my Facebook, but I feel like most of us are already friended there (and if not and you'd like to be, ping me in comments :) )

In the meantime, it's supposed to get into the 60s today, so I will probably head down to Mem Drive for a bike ride through the foliage, though unpacking and laundering the winter clothes will also be a priority.



hyounpark and I wandered out to Homecoming yesterday. Didn't get a lot of the food we'd normally eat on a Pioneer Valley Food Run, but we did snag cider donuts from Atkins Farm and pizza from Antonio's. We don't really go for the football; I go more for the people and the music, and yesterday was full of that.

- gave advice to a few earnest and overwhelmed '13s (class of '13, wtf, when did we get so old?!)
- hung out with an adorable 19-month-old for dinner (babies grow crazy fast, and love things that let them make a mess, I'm just sayin':



- shortened but high-energy Choral Society concert was one of the best I've been to in years. I recognized at least one song from each group (and was bouncing in my seat mouthing along to it, I'm looking at you, Izatate Ikusabitoyo Glee Club boys' marching song), throwing candy at the student conductor is always fun, and we got to show off our bling to the person whose fault it is we even met in the first place (Mallorie, our beloved choral director; steered me towards the small-group Madrigals singers my junior year, where I actually met hyounpark).

Thursday:

"Never forget," they say, and every year, the voices shouting that catchphrase get more and more shrill, as if we could forget what we saw, and who we worried for.

Seven years and one day ago, she wrote about seeing a rainbow from her office window near the top of the World Trade Center. Seven years ago, it was so bright out it hurt my eyes, and I couldn't believe that such horrible things could be happening on such a beautiful day.

I take a quick ride down to the river; it's grey and cool, and it helps.

*

Tuesday

It rained for most of our trip to Vancouver last month, yet I spent three days out of four there riding around town on a rented bicycle. Pedaling around Stanley Park, hefting my bike onto the miniferry, getting lost in Upper Kits, losing track of time and having to pedal the fastest I've ever gone in order to get the bike back before the shop closed. Me, flying up the seawall, a steady drizzle trickling its way down my neck, joyful.

( Turns out this was good prep for my inaugural bike ride across the river into Boston proper. )

Friday

I want more of my days to be this full of magical discovery.

Biking up the Minuteman Trail to pick up a bridal shower present for melissaagray in Arlington Heights, my longest ride to date. Splashing through puddles, grateful for my fenders, even if I am thinking of spray-painting them to coordinate with my shiny blue thing. (Horrified at the man I followed from Park Ave down to Arlington Center; I now understand exactly what kind of wetness pattern bike fenders prevent on your clothing, and why it looks especially gross on a mustard-yellow shirt.)

Coasting down through Davis Square, dismounting to make the turn on Elm Street towards home, when I look up at the Somerville Theatre marquee and notice that ( Dar Williams and Shawn Mullins are playing that night. )

Saturday

Pedaling as fast as I can down the Mem Drive bike path towards Watertown. Quickchange into dress too delicate for that ride, then another hour in the car with fes42 out to the Wistah suburbs. Sitting in melissaagray's sister's living room, looking around at everyone who's come to fête her, realizing I've known most of these people for five years or more now. Biking back, a serendipitous turn down Mount Auburn results in me following my nose and the tempting scent of meat to Harvard Books and Bartley's; three used Tamora Pierce books, a chocolate egg cream, and a Sarah Palin (grilled onions and cheese sauce; sadly, not a mooseburger) make the trip home with me.

I've done three long rides this week, every one of them an adventure. Tonight, I'll bike down to BU for class again, and hopefully a quick dinner afterwards with a friend. Sunday, I'll go 10 miles at Hub on Wheels (any other locals wanna bike on Storrow Drive with me? and eat Redbones afterwards? :D ).

This is what life on two wheels is like.

*

(I need a good biking icon. Where should I look?)

happy birthday, kelbelle and bubba!

i like this feeling i have of living in a neighborhood ever since i moved back to somerville. i guess that's not precisely the right word that i'm looking for, since it's a very different feel from when i lived in the fenway, which was quite a character. there, you had the awesome little restaurants on peterborough, a little bigbox mall close by with a movie theatre and an awesome art supply store, fenway park with all the cheers and jeers inherent to living four blocks away from america's most revered ballpark, and walking distance to back bay which meant many evenings rather than deal with fenway traffic on the bus or an overheated D train, i'd simply walk home from there.

it's not that i don't have amenities nearby in camberville - porter square a ten minute walk away, harvard square under twenty, all the restaurants of mass ave close by, the fifteen (fifteen!) independent bookstores within spitting distance, a supermarket three doors down, a pie shop four doors down, and kitty corner from some of the best deli sammiches and burgers in the area. but yesterday afternoon, i walked down to jen civ's for a barbecue. melissaagray walked; douglaslain walked; fes42 and stranger78 walked. (well, okay, from harvard square; i can't blame them for not wanting to walk from watertown!) and noghri commented to me, "i didn't realize how close everyone is once i hop on my bike." later that evening, hyounpark and i went down to the ljless jimmy's and ended up in a long game of puerto rico; it was almost 1 am when we left! but it was warm enough that i thought about walking home, though the timing just wasn't right.

it's a pretty miraculous concept to one who grew up where her nearest friends were at least a fifteen minute drive away. honestly, i think that was one of the things i loved best about boarding school and then college - people were suddenly so easily accessible.

i'm glad we have TV night every couple of weeks. we're geeks, so we trend towards things like mythbusters and good eats, though studio 60 is sure to feature prominently come next fall. but it's also an easy time for us to meander in and hang out with each other; catch up on each others' lives.

separately, both noghri and jimmy commented to me that not enough game nights happen, and i miss them too. so there should be one soonish, i say. locals, do you enjoy games like settlers, carcassonne, and puerto rico? are you a card shark in poker, or do you kick peoples' asses in cribbage or canasta? or are you more apples to apples? i know a fair number of you go to trivia nights at the local bars; would you be interested in a game night?