I spent the first weekend in May in Boston. I wrote this then, and just realized I had never posted it. I am in Boston. I love it. I took public transit from the airport. (It was a piece of cake, and a taxi would have been $45.) Silver Line to the Red Line to the bus to our hotel. Yep. Easy peasy. I lovelovelove subways. I felt like I was in Europe again. We’ve been to Harvard. From now on, if anyone asks if I went to Harvard, I’ll be able to tell them I did. (That is probably the oldest joke in the book, but I cracked myself up nonetheless.) We took the T to Boston Common (and I rode the Swan Boats in Boston Garden). We went to Faneuil Hall. We walked through the neighborhood on Beacon Hill. We ate pasta in the North End. We went to the Museum of Fine Arts. We watched rowers on the Charles River from our hotel room in the morning (and sailboats in the evening). Best of all, I am with my sister. I love that girl. We have talked, laughed, eaten, and walked and walked and walked. I am a bit nervous about how I will feel tomorrow! By the way – I bought a Red Sox hat. I figured it was fair; since I don’t actually have a team, I am not betraying anyone. Though even if I did have a team, I’d show Boston some love and respect anyway. I have only traveled to Boston twice. The first time, my sister-in-law and I planned a long weekend in the city… and we bought our tickets on September 10, 2001. (We still made the trip two weeks later.) This time, I bought my ticket just after the Boston Marathon bombing. Both times, I have been impressed with the people we met and their attitudes in the face of tragedy. Boston Strong, indeed.