Day 86: The Importance of Being A Local

Nothing makes you feel more like a local than coming back and feeling more comfortable in your own skin in the city you live in than in the place you came from.  This happens to me whether I'm coming back from my home town in Indiana, my family's stomping grounds in West Virginia, or (in this case), a mountain in New Hampshire.  Was so tired after the trip yesterday that I managed to spend the entire afternoon in bed finishing the second season of Downton Abbey followed by crashing pre-midnight through to the next morning.

Today was simple: work, rehearse for play with E. at S's place (director-on-two-of-us so that we could do scene focus), at then meet up with my roommate and a friend of ours who had also been up for the weekend in NH at a bar/restaurant near my place (Miracle of Science).  This now makes the 4th or 5th time in a row that I did not get carded at MoS.  For some reason, I have an irrational hatred of being carded.  At worst, it means that if you forgot your ID (which I don't), you have to go get it or talk someone into just letting you in -- and at best, it's a compliment that you look young.  But I hate it.  Typically if I'm there with older folks (than me), not getting carded is the norm, but recently it's been because I _am_ the older folk -- and I like it.  Was there a few days ago w/ J. and M. and arrived early, ordered beer, no carding.  Then when J. and M. arrive and order food in addition to beer -- they get carded.  Tonight, I arrived to meet V. and G-Dog after they were eating.  V's passport was out on the table -- but still no carding for me.  And that, friends, is the importance of being local.

All of this is still a diversion to say that I am going to miss this place a ton.

Day 80: Leaving the city

Perhaps one of the best parts of living in a city is the opportunity to leave it once in a while (not to mention the joy of coming back to it).  Though today was packed with work and rehearsals and even some live-band action at the end, it definitely had a prepping-to-leave feel.  It started last night, when I started the _real_ packing for moving across the country and continued through today as I finished up frosting a cake to bring to my family reunion this weekend, packing last minute odds and ends to bring so that my mom could take them to her house after (I'll be storing at least half my current junk--i.e. all my personal possessions that I could never part with--at her place at least for a while when I move to CA), loading up my car with all of this crud, and generally running last-minute errands, all before getting to work.  Which I could probably barely focus on.  I also printed out a map with a potential route to California so my mom and I could discuss suggested stops on the way.  I think it's time to start focusing more on this move.  But not to worry!  After this weekend (which I predict will be wild and wonderful, West Virginia-style), there will still be 64 more days in Cambridge.  I think.