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	<title>Stina&#039;s Trip &#187; Massachusetts</title>
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	<description>A Journey Around America and Canada</description>
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		<title>Cultivated Boston, in pictures</title>
		<link>http://www.stinasieg.com/2009/11/cultivated-boston-in-pictures/</link>
		<comments>http://www.stinasieg.com/2009/11/cultivated-boston-in-pictures/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 07 Nov 2009 14:05:25 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>admin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Maryland]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Massachusetts]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Boston]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Colorado]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[friends]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[photo essay]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.stinasieg.com/?p=495</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[<p>(BALTIMORE, Md.) — Follow-through. It&#8217;s something I&#8217;m working on. You see, about a month ago, I spent one day — one short and rainy, yet sweet day in Boston. And only now am I posting the pictures. This follow-through thing is a process, I guess.</p>
<p>Everything went by so quickly while I was there, but I [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>(BALTIMORE, Md.) — Follow-through. It&#8217;s something I&#8217;m working on. You see, about a month ago, I spent one day — one short and rainy, yet sweet day in Boston. And only now am I posting the pictures. This follow-through thing is a process, I guess.</p>
<p>Everything went by so quickly while I was there, but I remember it vividly.</p>
<p>Many of the city streets were wide, wet and gray, but not drab. They were teaming with activity and life. Having lived in the desert for about two years, I’m not used to horse-drawn carriages, open air markets and cobblestones, but that’s what was in front me.  I had never thought about Boston at all before my visit, never cared about it. In my head, it had always been too far east and too full of college students for me to comprehend. But I felt like I got it a little bit on this trip. It was big and upscale and bursting with people. I liked the whiff of formality and history in the air, which was mixed with a surprising bit of friendliness.</p>
<p>Eric, a friend from Silver City, rode the train with me into Boston and the lovely Jerrie, a friend from Colorado, showed me around. There were a few hours in there when I was completely alone, and even that was surprisingly personable. At one point, I wandered into a Vera Wang wedding dress boutique, just to see what it would feel like to be close to so much opulence (just as a lark really, because I don’t care at all about lavish weddings). When the friendly, Israeli storekeeper kindly asked me when my wedding day was, I realized it would be much easier and less embarrassing for us both to simply pretend. I don’t like lying like that, but it made sense in the moment, and on some level it was fun to imagine that a Vera Wang wedding really was my reality. I didn&#8217;t try anything on (I didn&#8217;t want to get too <em>Muriel&#8217;s Wedding </em>about this thing), but there was something special about being next to so much shiny satin and lace. It was as though I was in another country, one I don&#8217;t particularly want to live in, but one with a beauty I can certainly appreciate.</p>
<p>In case you’re curious, I told her my faux wedding is taking place about a year-and-half from now in San Francisco. He’s a great guy, not to mention the fact that his parents are paying for the dress.</p>
<div id="attachment_498" class="wp-caption alignleft" style="width: 310px"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/7669543@N03/4081561428/in/set-72157622749110286/"><img class="size-medium wp-image-498" title="DSC_0010" src="http://www.stinasieg.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/DSC_00101-300x212.jpg" alt="Public library. Boston. " width="300" height="212" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">Public library. Boston. </p></div>
<p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/7669543@N03/4080800273/in/set-72157622749110286/"><img class="alignright size-medium wp-image-499" title="DSC_0013" src="http://www.stinasieg.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/DSC_00131-300x224.jpg" alt="DSC_0013" width="300" height="224" /></a></p>
<div id="attachment_501" class="wp-caption alignleft" style="width: 210px"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/7669543@N03/4081561346/in/set-72157622749110286/"><img class="size-medium wp-image-501  " title="DSC_0001" src="http://www.stinasieg.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/DSC_00011-200x300.jpg" alt="Looking out from the library." width="200" height="300" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">Looking out from the library.</p></div>
<div id="attachment_502" class="wp-caption alignright" style="width: 302px"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/7669543@N03/4081561886/in/set-72157622749110286/"><img class="size-medium wp-image-502 " title="DSC_0061" src="http://www.stinasieg.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/DSC_0061-292x300.jpg" alt="DSC_0061" width="292" height="300" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">My friend, Jerrie.</p></div>
<div id="attachment_506" class="wp-caption alignleft" style="width: 310px"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/7669543@N03/4081561630/in/set-72157622749110286/"><img class="size-medium wp-image-506" title="DSC_0035" src="http://www.stinasieg.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/DSC_00352-300x200.jpg" alt="DSC_0035" width="300" height="200" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">It was a little strange to see hoards of tourists in a graveyard, but I could understand. I had hardly seen anything in the US as old as this cemetery, either. Many of the graves were from the 1600s.</p></div>
<div id="attachment_510" class="wp-caption alignright" style="width: 262px"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/7669543@N03/4081561776/in/set-72157622749110286/"><img class="size-medium wp-image-510" title="DSC_0040" src="http://www.stinasieg.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/DSC_0040-252x300.jpg" alt="Many people have taken a ride on this donkey, I know. But how many have done it in the rain, sober? Finally, I feel original." width="252" height="300" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">Many people have taken a ride on this donkey, I know. But how many have done it in the rain, sober? Finally, I feel original.</p></div>
<div id="attachment_511" class="wp-caption alignleft" style="width: 310px"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/7669543@N03/4080845069/in/set-72157622749110286/"><img class="size-medium wp-image-511 " title="DSC_0064" src="http://www.stinasieg.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/DSC_00641-300x179.jpg" alt="I" width="300" height="179" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">Boston at night.</p></div>
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		<title>Riding the rails</title>
		<link>http://www.stinasieg.com/2009/10/riding-the-rails/</link>
		<comments>http://www.stinasieg.com/2009/10/riding-the-rails/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 10 Oct 2009 04:25:05 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>admin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Massachusetts]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.stinasieg.com/?p=373</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[<p>(Boston, Mass.) —Today was filled with such luscious luck that I’m smiling and biting my lip, despite the fact I’m tired, a bit sick and surrounded by hundreds of strangers wearing Celtics hats and jerseys. As I’m on a commuter train between Boston and Salem, I only have a few minutes of internet to convey [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>(Boston, Mass.) —Today was filled with such luscious luck that I’m smiling and biting my lip, despite the fact I’m tired, a bit sick and surrounded by hundreds of strangers wearing Celtics hats and jerseys. As I’m on a commuter train between Boston and Salem, I only have a few minutes of internet to convey all that I’m feeling, and so I know my words are going to pale in comparison to my emotions. But isn’t that always the frustration?</p>
<p>I was only able to spend one day in Boston, but it felt full of importance somehow. I still can’t get over how completely a place warms once you know someone it in. Here, it was Jerrie, my sweet, Russian friend from Colorado. She took me through an old cemetery, the Italian section of town and the Holocaust memorial. While this might sound disjointed, it wasn’t. I felt immersed in Boston and its specific brand of loud, blunt yet friendly people. I liked the fact that so many Bostonians had a Sox hat, thick accent and complete disregard for jaywalking laws. I love being somewhere where everyone is on the same page, even if I’m not reading along with them. It somehow feels secure. Just as in Toronto, Portland (Maine) and Québec City, I would have been content to simply watch all these people pass me on the street for hours. The sightseeing was just a bonus.</p>
<p>This is the beauty of cities to me. All day, I didn’t lapse into being in my head. I was simply wide-eyed, watching all that was around me. Jerrie and I did a lot of talking as well, but never did it feel overly cerebral. I felt incredibly present, and that made me happy.</p>
<p>Well, we’re pulling into the station sooner than I can spell check this thing. I have so much more I want to convey but, ah, that’s nothing new. I’ll write more (including my conclusion to my Maine story) quite soon, and I’ll continue with this train of thought, too. Until then, thank you Eric, Lynn and Jerrie. Thank you for your kindness. To everyone else, I’ll explain more in the near future.</p>
<p>Onward to Pennsylvania. Oh, I’ll explain more about that later, too.</p>
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