Freeeeeeeddoooooooommmmmm!

I just realized I never posted our pics from the Freedom Trail...which we walked way back in August. Ooops =(

Anyway, we decided to take the commuter rail into Boston rather than drive, because parking is apparently terrible and really expensive in Beantown. The train ride was pretty fun! Seeing as how we only have one car right now, when I get a job I will almost certainly be taking the train into work.

JJ is happy he's not driving!

Once we got to Beantown, we decided we'd do an ultra-touristy thing (of course!) The Freedom Trail. We only walked the south part, figuring that the slightly more awe-inspiring Bunker Hill Monument and U.S.S. Constitution in the north part would be something visitors might want to do with us.

Me posing with the sign on the Boston Common. Boston Common is America's oldest public park, and it was host to a camp of redcoats during the British occupation of Boston in 1775.

The Granary Burial Ground. I felt sorta weird taking pics of the graves,  so I just got a pic of this sign.  The people buried here include Samuel Adams, John Hancock, and Paul Revere. The biggest memorial was actually for Benjamin Franklin's parents!

So I didn't get any really cool pics of the Old South Meeting House because they charged 5 bucks to get in, and we figured we'd probably be doing it again when our moms come to visit.  Among other things, this was where the march to Boston Harbor for the Boston Tea Party originated.

So awesome...the balcony where the Declaration of Independence was read! At the Old State House

We went to watch street performers outside Faneuil Hall (where the Stamp Act was protested) , and then thought we'd catch a bite to eat in Quincy Market, just behind it. However, we quickly discovered that Quincy Market (one of the oldest trading posts and centers of commerce in America) was a gigantic tourist trap, and we both got really claustrophobic in there. So we left...as quickly as possible.

....And walked over to the North End of Boston, which (as far as I could  tell) consists entirely of delicious Italian restaurants. One after the other.....we walked to Pizzeria Regina and I ate THE BEST PIZZA I HAVE EVER HAD. Drooling a little right now just thinking about it....

I snapped this pic of the Boston skyline on our short walk back to North Station.

Getting to Boston

So much has happened in the past few days! For now, I think I'll write about our travel to Boston and our first night on the East Coast.

JJ and I both love airports. Maybe it's because of the people watching? How important you feel dragging a suitcase along behind you? Feeling like you are going on vacation? For whatever reason, we both love airports a lot. Except for the TSA. That part, not so great.

I always stress about getting my laptop, shoes, liquids, and keys off of me fast enough to pile them in the little bins and push them through the scanner fast enough for the long line of people behind me. Inevitably, no matter how much you prepare, you always accidentally wind up putting your shoes (which should be alone) and your laptop (which should be alone) in together in the same bin, and then the TSA looks at you like you are a complete idiot. LIKE LAPTOPS AND SHOES ARE NEVER ALLOWED TO INTERMINGLE, EVER. 

Well, now the Sky Harbor Airport has incorporated one more unpleasant aspect to the whole security checkpoint nightmare. Yes, sirs and ladies, I introduce to you the full-body scan.

Or as I like to call it, the nakey-scanner.

And you betcha, this Thursday when we flew out, I got picked! See, the thing that annoys me is they don't even tell you what they are doing. Here I am, walking along, following instructions, and soon I'm in this photobooth thingy with my hands above my head. I share a knowing look with the TSA lady at this point. And I'm thinking, "I bet they are looking at me naked right now." But by then, IT'S TOO LATE. I already feel like cattle. Apparently, you can opt out of the nakey-scan, but typically they do a very vigorous pat-down to those people. So, now you have two choices: let a total stranger oogle your goodies, or be touched inappropriately. It's a lose-lose situation. Heavy sigh. 

Other than that, the flight was pretty uneventful (which is exactly what you'd hope for a plane ride). We got to Boston around 5 pm and got to the hotel, when I get a phone call from the car transport guy (you remember, Mr. Crazy), saying he will be in Burlington in 40 minutes. We have two thoughts about this:

1) HOOORAY! The car will be here, Mr. Crazy didn't sell it for scrap metal!

2) OHMYGOD we have to get to the Burlington Mall (predetermined drop-off point) RIGHT NOW. 

We find out the hourly shuttle is leaving in ten minutes. We run up to the room, throw (literally, throw) down our stuff and run back down the stairs to make it on the shuttle. Once we got to the mall, we had 20 minutes or so to burn, so we decided to walk around a little, do some window shopping.

Fast forward 90 minutes. Mr. Crazy is now saying he is "7 miles away" and he should be here in 10 minutes. By this point, we are literally both ravenous. We have not eaten in a little over 10 hours. We are no longer interested in looking at couches, or winter jackets, or anything else we might need for our life here on the East Coast. All the stores we walk into are somehow related to food.

In another 30 minutes, Mr. Crazy gets to the the mall, gives us our car, and lets us know, "Ohh, by tha way, you ty-ah...ez flat. No go. See, maybeh you go to Sears and they pump for you." That's genius! We are right next to a Sears Auto Center! Fantastic! Except, it closed fifteen minutes ago. Thank you, Mr. Crazy. 

We are both a little worried about the tires (it's actually not one flat tire, it's all four), we google for a nearby gas station or tire company. At this point JJ is pretty sure the rear tires will both need to be replaced. Unfortunately, we weren't able to find anything that was still open and the hotel is not even a quater of a mile away, so we just decided to deal with it in the morning and go eat.

And we did, and it was delicious, except for you know, the part where we saw mice scuttling across the floor in the dining room and the manager really didn't seem to care too much. But that's another story, another day.

Car troubles

Okay, so JJ's company has offered to reimburse us for some moving expenses. Due to the incredible amount of time that JJ's thesis revisions are taking, we decided to have the car transported to Boston, instead of driving there ourselves. The guy came to pick up the car last night.

Basically, it goes down like this:

::telephone rings at about 3 pm::
Guy: Allo, Leendsee? Leendsee LoHON?
Me: Um, no, I'm not Lindsay Lohan. Who's calling?
Guy: Eet's me, Ahm comin' to peek up your carr tonight. Maybe, ah, 2 or 3 hours I be in Tucson. Den, ah, 2 ah-ther deleeveries, then Ah come to peek your carr.
Me: Um, okay. Just call.

You may have noticed, but this guy is VERY HARD TO UNDERSTAND. I have no idea what his name is or his nationality, all I know is some strange man in an 18-wheeler is coming to pick up the car in a few hours. This is good news right? Meaning, if he picks it up tonight, I won't have to wait around all day tomorrow. **

So, the guy calls again...at 11:30 at night. Seriously, why is he working this late? He calls to tell me that he is parked somewhere near our apartment (I couldn't understand the exact location), but I catch that he is somewhere near a "Zone-A Re-store-ANT," which I know is pretty close, so I figured we couldn't miss the guy.

We drive down, look around for the guy, can't find him and then...we see it.

Yes, sirs and ladies, the man with the indescribable accent has parked his 18 wheeler in the middle of River road like it his own personal parking lot. ::heavy sigh::

We finally got the car on the truck, the guy makes some veiled threats about how he will kill us if we say the car has been damaged and it wasn't, and then he tells us that the car is going to be there in "maybe, ah, 5 days." Now, sirs and ladies, this is WAYYYYY before we were told it would get there. We aren't even flying out until next Thursday. So he says he'll just leave it in a parking lot or something. I heavily suspect this guy is engaging in some illegal driving hours (meaning he is working much longer days than he should). However, at 11:30 on a Thursday night with the movers coming on Tuesday, what could we do but let him take the car? He may be batshit insane, but at least he seemed sort of nice, right?

Well, if worse comes to worse, I guess JJ and I can just buy bicycles. Right?



**Car transportation is apparently a very scammy business. Most of the companies are brokers; they give you an estimate and after you sign an agreement they post the car and a dollar amount on a bulletin for available drivers to pick up. The broker then takes a cut. Oftentimes you don't even get the contact information for the driver or have any idea when they are coming (they gave us a two-day window). You can get away from this brokerage thing if you are willing to pay the big bucks....but, we're not.