You were bound to Fly Away

The song in Starbucks right now, “You were bound to fly away…”

I can’t write this stuff.

Except that’s exactly what I’m going to do.  So indulge me.

There is no more denying it.  Fall is HERE.  You know how I know?

PUMPKIN SPICE LATTE.

Also, I’m wearing my Ralph Lauren fleece, because it’s cold.  And school. 

Which brings me here right now. 

This semester I’m taking a class at the College of Communications at BU, which I’m so excited for.  I get to write again and be creative, and think about other things besides how sad and unhealthy the world is.

Unfortunately, this class begins at 9:00 a.m., which for anyone who lives in Boston, knows is just ridiculous to even try to be anywhere for which is why most people just sleep at their offices (or get there at like 5….) or roll in around 10:30 when all the BU students are already where they need to be, and the B line becomes normal again.

Anyway-  the Comm School is 1.8 miles from my house… it takes me exactly 30 minutes to get to work which is downtown, at the very last stop of the train, so why would it take LONGER to get 4 four stops?  BECAUSE THE B LINE.

But also- because Scooter.  So whereas an average BU Basic would be able to squeeze in any old spot on the  train so they have to force the doors close- I don’t have such a luxury.  Last week, I left my house around 8:00… thinking I might even have time to grab a coffee, and THREE TRAINS LATER, I am on my scooter, in the middle of hoards of people, not even in the parking spot, or able to reach the button to tell the driver when I need to get off.  Total anarchy. I honestly went all 2 years ago and almost started weeping.  But whatever. #Blineproblems.  We’ll get there.

I’m also moderately determined to not need to have the “accommodations talk” with my new professor.  I’m not afraid to talk to her, and I’m no longer afraid to ask for help, but I don’t want to play the “scooter card.” I’m sure it will come up, and honestly that’s what I want to do my story on for her class- about what it’s like for a non-walking individual to get around this god forsaken city, and how it is NOT the fault of MBTA, but the general public who think that standing in your way staring at you while you’re trying to get on the train is actually going to make the ramp come down. 

I just want to show that I got this… I’ve lived here for 2 years, and go to work on the B line every day.  If I have to leave the house at 7:30 every Wednesday then gross, but I just need to put on my big girl journalism panties and roll with it.

But for now… here I am.  Drinking a latte, writing on my sparkly MacBook, remembering who I am, and what I’m passionate about, in a CITY.  Full of opportunity and people who want me to succeed.

Seven years ago, the beginning of September, I sat in a coffee shop in the small town of Farmington, with a journal, and tried to convince myself it was the same thing.  It wasn’t, and I knew it… but it was a step in the journey.  And here I am.

There is so so much more to write about, as I venture into this fall, feeling like the best Me I have ever been, but I just had to capture this moment and share it.  For all of my young college almost graduates who are cranking on your last year, just remember- the dream is out there.  You just gotta find it… and it may not be what others think it is.  Keep on, keeping on.

Love you all. 

M.