Chapter 2 - Moving across the country

The way it worked out, I was 6 months pregnant and having difficulties with pre-term labor when we were supposed to fly to visit Boston for the first time and find a place to live. So we put off the trip until after Rachel was born at the end of May. At that point, it wouldn't work out for me to go, but we had to have a place to live starting in 2 months, so Sam flew out on his own. He found a place we could sublet for a few months so we could get out there and give us some time to get an idea of the neighborhoods that we could both afford and would be willing to live in.

Driving across the country in a Uhaul with a newborn didn't sound like a very peasant experience, so we decided that Sam would drive with his brother, and Rachel and I would fly to meet them once they arrived. So despite my obsessive need to plan, and over plan, my first time seeing Boston (the place I would call home for the next 4 years) was when I stepped off the airplane with suitcases and an infant carrier in hand. Sam picked up me, and 2 month old Rachel, from the Logan Airport and drove us to our new home. It was late at night, and already dark, but I remember staring out the window on the entire ride home, just like a little kid staring at Christmas lights out a car window on Christmas Eve. He took the scenic route down 1-93 (that was before it was buried underground as part of the Big Dig). We drove through downtown, past the aquarium, past hotels that looked like museums. I remember being suprised to see high rise buildings made out of bricks. I thought I knew what to expect, but apparently everything I needed to know about Boston could not be learned just by watching Dawson's Creek.

Despite the differences -it was still magical--just like I had imagined. I lived near a big city growing up, but downtown Phoenix was a place you avoided, and downtown Boston was just the opposite. It was calling out for me to come and explore. There were houses that were so old they had been lived in by people like Paul Revere. I think the oldest houses I had seen in Phoenix were from the 1980's. The Boston Massacre happened here, and the Boston Tea Party. This is where the Declaration of Independence was first read. I can't even remember anything else that happened here, but those few things alone were more than everything historic or exciting that had ever happened in Phoenix. I was just trying to take it all in.
Forty-five minutes later we were pulling up to our new apartment building, Windsor Gardens Apartments in Norwood, a suburb about 45 minutes south of Boston. While we were excited to live near Boston, we weren't naive; we knew just like any inner-city there were neighborhoods that we should avoid, only we didn't know which ones. So for now we decided to play it safe and live in the out-skirts while we figured it all out. Not to mention, the amount of money we saved. Our only income was going to be the maximum amount of student loans they would let us take out. Just a studio apartment near Boston University would cost around $2000 a month. It is funny how coming from spending $600 a month for a one bedroom in Mesa, Arizona, I am already saying things like "We found a bargain-we are only paying $1100 a month for our place!" Oh how the times have changed.

The front of our apartment building has a buzzer that visitors have to press and someone has to buzz them in. It is just like on Seinfield. The inside kind of reminds me of Seinfield's apartment too. It has one big room where the living room and dining room are all combined. Only I am pretty sure his kitchen was bigger. I walk into the "kitchen," a small square inside and off to the side of the large room. I just have to stand in one spot and do a 360, if I hold my arms out I could touch the counters on all sides. I didn't know they even made appliances this small. The oven was only as wide as my forearm. Would our cookie sheets even fit in it? Come to find out later, no, they would not. It was more like some sort of built in toaster oven. There was also a dishwasher that was just as small, maybe smaller. I would find out later that having a dishwasher at all was a luxury here. Oh-and the bathroom, it was pink. Not the walls, something easy to change, but the actual shower, and sink and toilet. I have never seen anything besides white in Arizona. What type of company would make them in pink? And what kind of person would buy it and install it in their house? Despite the little quirks of this place, it wasn't too bad. It was small, but it was nice and open and the entire back wall was a giant window that looked out at a forest of tall trees. Probably more trees I've seen in all of Phoenix combined. Okay, obviously an exaggeration, but definitely more trees than I would see in a day back home.

Well, now to the unpacking.