September 15, 2012

Love That Dirty Water

One of the off-shoots of Camp Camp 2012 is that I met someone.

Won't go into too much detail, other than she is my age, is a lovely amalgam of goofball, sweetie, and hottie, and lives along the Boston greenway. And so my energy is drawn back to Boston, after many years. There is a largish camp enclave in Boston, and I think I'll end up visiting this coming year.

Kind of weird - I've lived in Connecticut my entire adult life - since graduating in college in '83. Yet Massachusetts was where I came of age - learned to drive, went to ball games and concerts, took the T. I have a certain familiarity and fondness for Beantown.

So when I drove up for a visit last weekend, it was all familiar, comfortable. And although I drove through more rotaries in one car trip than I have in the past calendar year en route to West Roxbury. It was altogether familiar.

We took two laps around Jamaica Pond, which was beautiful and fun - sort of like the WH Reservoirs in energy but embedded in the city - not reserved for the suburban crowd.

I miss having a queer community. I miss having friends who might drop by and visit, or who might call up for dinner, music, a movie, or a night on the couch watching TV. And finally, with my mom getting older, and we siblings starting to face our own mortality, the prospect of moving back to the Boston area seems a lot less like an unreasonable than it might have in the recent past.

I do not move around a lot - I've been in CT nearly 30 years and have lived in just three homes over the past 25 years. So the idea of picking up and moving is a lot to wrap my mind around.

But, if one intends to turn an aircraft carrier, one starts planning for that a long time before one makes the turn. let's just say I am thinking about it....

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