It's Been Wicked Awesome

I came to New England mainly to see my sister and best friend, but somehow stumbled upon a clarity of vision for the life I left behind. Perhaps it had something to do with the tiny plane I arrived in, or the turbulence which leaves me praying to a God, whom I'm quite sure was laughing at me.

Once safely landed in Boston I realized the cut off shorts that had replaced my grungy yoga pants no longer symbolized a southern girl in the summer, but instead a strange form of jersey shore trash. With a Dunkin' cup covered in red sox fanfare in hand I stepped into the big city and into the arms of Tam.

Navigation has always been a stronger aspect of my personality, and here in Boston and New Hampshire I think it's come more in handy than ever. From driving around in desperation for a set of luggage with anchors on it, to simply realizing that Fenway Park is not freaken located on Fenway street, I became more and more grateful for my fathers sense of direction.

I feel lucky to have met a sisters family and gotten to see a glimpse into what her daily life is outside of the Wingato bubble I sometimes forget that we all don't live in when we get back to where we were made. The interactions between mother and daughter have always fascinated me and this was no exception. The thin line between friend and mother is definitely dashed and constantly being stretched and shorten as parents try to find that balance. It scares me that I won't be able to get the job done as my mother has done with me. But no matter that style that goes into it, I suppose love has to count for something.

I don't know if I'm ready to go back to the 12 hour work days, but I think my time here has come to a closing. I'll hold my breath for the standby flight and hope that I'm not left to post about my airport realizations because I'm quite sure they won't be as meaningful as my sweet nothingness that have come from this vacation.