Red Sox, Gators, Bruins and Patriots - but in which order?

*Edit: Dad swears he was never a Whalers fan, nor did he raise me as one. I don't know why I remember so vividly attending Whalers games and having all sorts of Whalers gear and being sad when they moved to North Carolina, but then again, I was in 7th grade when that happened so maybe I'm making up a childhood for myself here. Very possible with Graves' brain...

Everyone always asks me which teams I root for. I was born and raised in Massachusetts, but my dad was born in New York, spent a few years in Amsterdam, New York and then many more in Enfield, Connecticut. Although Enfield is on the border of Massachusetts, Connecticut hasn't had a professional sports team since the Whalers packed up and became the Carolina Hurricanes in 1997 (breaking all of our hearts, by the way). So most Connecticut residents root for either New York or Boston teams - and seem to be pretty evenly split. Rhode Island is surprisingly similar even though most people consider Rhode Island part of Massachusetts, and the Red Sox Triple-A team is in Pawtucket.

What I'm getting that is that I was raised a Yankees, Giants and Whalers fan. My family never cared about professional basketball, but we were pretty obsessed with UConn, especially during the 35-0 Rebecca Lobo season.

It wasn't until college that I got sick of being the lonely only Yankees fan. The 2003 ALCS was what did it for me. I was a sophomore in college and had been around Bostonians for the past year at my small state school, and I finally got the itch to switch teams. The Yankees won the series and I had to save face, but inside I felt so left out of the riot that the students had when we lost to the Yankees (notice I'm already saying "we" here). It wasn't a riot I condoned, but we were rowdy college kids and that's what you do when a Boston teams loses. Or wins. You riot. Students flipped a campus police car. I went to watch for a little bit but everyone knew I was a Yankees fan so I didn't stay and I certainly didn't partake in the mayhem.

That winter and spring, I became good friends with one of my co-workers at Target who was a diehard Red Sox fan from Enfield. He made it his life's mission to convert me. For Christmas, he gave me the ugliest, manliest (literally - it was a men's) Red Sox hat. But he was really trying. I liked him, so I let him win. I traded in my pink Yankees gear for non-pink Red Sox attire.

And boy was I rewarded. As we know, the Sox reversed the curse and won it all the following season.

Most days, I forget I was ever a Red Sox fan. My mom never really cared about the Yankees, but became a more loyal Red Sox fan in the late 90s or early 2000s. My brother could care less but liked identifying with my dad, so we were a house divided for many years.

When I moved to Florida in 2007, I had no idea how ingrained in the Gator Nation I would become. I didn't get season tickets to the games (first-year students almost never do), but I managed to procure tickets to every home game thanks to a sweet part-time gig with StubHub and a best friend who worked in the UFAA ticket office. The Sox made it to the ALDS and swept the Angels on my 23rd birthday, the day after a very rough Gators loss to LSU. I remember watching the World Series with my then-boyfriend, who had become a temporary bandwagon fan (only because of me) and was a huge Josh Beckett fan. We didn't do anything special for Game 4 of the sweep but sit on his couch and watch the game with no fingernails left at the end. Everyone congratulated me (my nickname in Florida was "Boston" because no one down there knows anything else about the state of Massachusetts) for a week straight, and I proudly wore my Schilling jersey everywhere, but nowhere as proudly as on Halloween a few days later when I dumped a bottle of red nail polish onto my sock.

I took this on my walk into work this morning.
2013 ALCS Champions!

To answer the question of what teams I root for, I struggle every year with my order of preference. After last year's dismal season, I went into this season saying 1. Bruins 2. Gators 3. Red Sox 4. Patriots. That preference only means if all four of those teams were playing in some championship game at the same exact time, which would I watch/go to. But this year, the Gators are sucking and the Bruins season has only just begun, so you can safely assume my order is more like 1. Red Sox 2. Bruins 3. Patriots 4. Gators.

On that note, I am available Wednesday and Thursday evenings if you would like to take me to Games 1 or 2 of the 2013 World Series. My office is approximately 450 yards from Fenway Park and I know of a great place to get a drink and a burger before the game that only the locals know about. Call me.

Moving Out and Up

I survived my first week of work. Actually, I more than survived - I flourished. I really did love it. Let's back up a bit though, shall we?

Wednesday was my last day of work. I wore a fun, new, work-inappropriate dress from Francesca's:

I spent most of the day writing instructions for my replacement, whom they have yet to hire. Around 3, we all pretty much stopped working and started getting ready for our little shindig. My co-workers gave me these beautiful roses they coined as "Vera Bradley roses" because of the pattern that reminded them of all my Vera Bradley accessories. We made sangria and my boss bought my two favorite wines - Kim Crawford sauvignon blanc and Cupcake sauvignon blanc. A few colleagues came over and we ate and drank and chatted. When it was just our department and spouses left, my boss gave me a hug and said she wanted to leave before me or else she'd be an emotional wreck watching me leave. It's nice to feel so loved and appreciated at work. A few of us stayed till about 7 or so, and then I met some friends at a bar for dinner and more drinks. I think I finally got home around midnight.

I spent Thursday and Friday just enjoying some time off. I unplugged as much as I could and slowly began packing, which I did the bulk of on Saturday.

Sunday was tough for me. I had packed up my car on Saturday night save a few bags, but I woke up with a pit in my stomach knowing in a few hours, I'd have to leave Rags until the weekend. About two weeks ago, something changed in his behavior. He stopped letting my dad take him for walks if I was home, and started following me everywhere, even into the bathroom. I think it was mostly because I was recovering from surgery and spending more time in bed, but also because I was packing up boxes and he knew what that meant. I cried like a baby when I kissed him goodbye and said what I say every morning before work, "I'll see you later baby!" He cried and scratched at the door which he very rarely does - he knew.

I cried again as I drove away, again on the phone with my mom on the highway, and a few more times on the the 90-minute drive to Woburn. I knew I'd see him Friday night, but I cried because I felt bad for him. He was confused and scared. But I know it'll be a good change for both of us when we finally have our own (almost) space again.

Unpacking was uneventful, aside from being ungodly hot. I didn't even really unpack. I hung up my hangers in Julia's spare closet and put my toothbrush in the bathroom. I'm basically living out of boxes, bags, and suitcases until August 1. It's just not worth the work to unpack and then do it all again in three weeks.

Having Juls and Donny as "roommates" is nothing new since I've stayed with them so often. But Julia's cooking is top notch and I feel like a houseguest since she just does her thing in the kitchen while Donny and I drool over the smells and then devour the end results. Kitty has taken a liking to me and now doesn't mind me sharing her space. Buster is a lovebug as always, and is getting better about stealing my food off the plate while I'm eating. When I'm sitting on the couch, we're about the same height so if I were him, I'd try to steal my food, too!

I do look forward to being in my condo as of August 1, but it's more likely that I won't sleep there until the 3rd or 4th. As of right now, I'm sitting on my bed in Longmeadow. I got back here last night to spend the weekend with Rags. He was SO happy to see me, and has hardly left my side. Dad and I went out to breakfast this morning (I was up before him - that happens about twice a year) and Rags freaked out when we left, but he is happily dozing about 8 inches away from me right now.

More about the job and commute next time!

Successful Saturday

I'd say yesterday was pretty successful. I woke up at 6 a.m., was on the road by 7:30 a.m., and in Woburn looking at a condo at 9 a.m. The condo is owned by a guy named Frank. He's 33, works in marketing, and is renting out one of the bedrooms. The house is literally 1.8 miles from Julia and Donny. He's cool with Rags, and since he works out of the house most days, he even said he'd be happy to let Rags out when I'm at work all day. The condo is immaculate - he keeps it really clean and is surprisingly good at decorating for a guy. There are three levels - upstairs where the bedrooms and a full bath are, downstairs where the living room, kitchen, dining room, and a half bathroom are, and a fully finished basement where the washer and dryer are. The yard is enormous and since this is part of a condo association, they take care of all the maintenance, including snow removal. Score!

After visiting the Woburn condo, we went in search of bridesmaid dresses. After trying on probably two dozen dresses, one big disappointment when the dress we all fell in love with turned out to be discontinued and thus not available, we finally said yes to a dress. It was actually not at all what we thought we wanted but Juls loves it and it looks great on our bodies and - the most important part - it comes in the colors Juls wants! We got it at Bella Bridesmaid on Newbury Street in Boston. I can't say enough about Britt, the owner. She didn't mind that we were late, sweaty, and smelly. The dress we chose was her idea, and we are so grateful that she thought to bring it out.

We need to order (i.e., pay for) the dresses by July 15 in order to have them by the end of November. Britt gave us a 10% discount so that helped a lot. Now we need to figure out how to "dress them up." The dress is elegant as is, made from chiffon, but Juls wants some sparkle so we'll either need to add a belt or just some beading. That's the fun part!

After a short picnic on Boston Common, we went and looked at another potential place for me. The apartment was cute but small and in a really rough-looking part of Boston known as Mission Hill, but it was really close to Roxbury. And my potential roommate admitted she smoked pot and that her boyfriend was "around a lot." No thanks.

In the car on the way home, my mind was made up. I talked to both of my parents and made my final decision. The only negative is that the condo isn't available until August 1 (his current roommate is a 22-year-old girl who is moving out to "grow up and be on her own") but my job starts July 15. Julia and Donny have graciously offered me "my bedroom" in their house for those two weeks. This means I can't bring Rags - he's a jerk to Buster - but it will give me flexibility with my schedule so I can get adjusted at work, go out for drinks afterward, and not worry about rushing home to Rags. I'll come back to Longmeadow on the weekends to spend time with him.

So, without further ado, here's my new home.

Exterior:

    Upstairs:
   

Downstairs:

Basement:

Boston, You're My Home

Well, almost. For those of you who know me personally, you know that last week I accepted a position at a Boston hospital. This has been my dream for a long time, pretty much ever since I finished grad school at UF, but even before that I always knew I wanted to settle down in Boston. When I took my current job, a big reason was to get me from Florida back to Massachusetts. My family and closest friends knew I considered it a stepping stone to get to my ultimate goal of doing PR for a Boston-area hospital.

My dream has finally come true. I will be doing media relations for a large Boston cancer hospital and their official charity. I started interviewing for the position in May, and accepted an offer on Wednesday. I start July 15, which means my last day at my current job will be July 10 so I can have a few days to wrap up my life in western Massachusetts, move and settle in.

I still haven't found a place to live yet. It was such a crazy week that by this weekend, I was physically and emotionally exhausted. I have spent hours looking online, calling and emailing about possible apartments, and even Skyping with a potential roommate. I'm going to be in the city this Saturday to try on bridesmaid dresses for Julia's wedding, but I have crack of dawn and late afternoon appointments to see a few places. One is a room in a 2br, 1ba apartment in a Mission Hill house with a girl in her mid 20s. The other is a room in 3br, 1.5ba condo in Woburn (yes, where my best friend Julia lives - right around the corner actually!) with a professional male in his early 30s. And then there's a potential room in a 5ba, 2ba apartment in Brighton. One of the roommates is a friend of a friend, but four girls is a lot of estrogen. I think Rags needs somewhere really mellow and quiet, because that's what we had when we lived alone in Florida and he was so well-behaved. His crankiness is either due to his age (he's almost 8) or - the more likely culprit - living with two male adults and another dog, so he really never has any personal space or down time. I think one roommate would be ideal, and no other pets.

Actually, living alone would be ideal but since I am working for a nonprofit and have not much in the way of savings, a roommate is a must at first. I'd also rather bunk up with someone before signing away my life on a year's lease when I may hate the person, the neighborhood, etc.

Julia has extended "my bedroom" to me in the event that July 15 arrives and I still don't have a place to live. Or if I find a place that isn't immediately available. The Mission Hill apartment is available before I am (July 1) and the Woburn condo is available Aug. 1, so either of those would work out.

Money was actually the only thing that caused me to hesitate on accepting the offer right away. I negotiated my salary for the first time and am happy with the offer, but then I started thinking about rent and buying a new wardrobe (they wear suits to work every day, it's business casual at the college until summer and then it's just summer casual - I don't own suits) and I started to freak out. My best guy friend Sean said, "You'd be doing something you enjoy and you'd be near people you like to spend time with, and I think that adds immeasurably to your happiness." He was right. At that point, my mind was made up.

It's no secret to most that I have been miserable at my job. I like my officemates, but people outside of our department are downright nasty. Working in higher education without a doctorate often means being looked down upon, and for people with as much experience as we have, that's just not OK. I have been made to cry in meetings, referred to as a line item on someone's budget, been told I have no experience, been embarrassed by a faculty member in front of a reporter for no reason other than said faculty member's power trip...it's just been too much. And also, I miss healthcare. Working in sports made me sure I didn't want to work in sports. Working in higher ed made me sure I don't want to work in higher ed. Working in an agency made me sure I didn't want to work in an agency. I have yet to deal with the corporate bs, but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't like it. Healthcare is where I'm meant to be.

I also don't love western Massachusetts. Nor do I love admitting that at 28, I live with my dad and brother. In my defense, I had two weeks to quit my job and move from Florida to Massachusetts to start my current job, so of course I just moved back home. And then, when I was ready to get my own place, I was scheduled for major surgery that could have very well left me on disability from work for six months or longer, and even if it didn't, I was going to need round-the-clock care for a week or two while recovering. So I stayed. And then I started seriously applying for jobs in Boston and knew it would be silly to move out during that process when I could be saving.

Except it all happened much more quickly than I was expecting and I didn't really get to save. Four weeks from today, I will be at my first day at my new job. My new office is not in the hospital (boo), but it's directly across the street from the Yawkey Way entrance to Fenway (um, awesome!).

I'm trying to be positive today, so I'll save my recent car troubles for another post, and also until I know how much the repairs are going to set me back. Because I don't want to think about until I have to.