So last week (Wednesday maybe?) B called me up from work just slightly out-of-the-blue
and told me about the requirements for the MBA program at Boston College. We talked about it briefly, he explained the criteria,
I mentioned other schools in the area that he should look into, and we discussed the overall motivation that business schools
in general are probably looking for when admitting MBA candidates. When B got home that night, he walked through
the door and announced that he was entering the MBA program at Harvard Business School.
And that's fine-- it's just that this carries with it one tiny detail that I think we're all overlooking: B and I are very
nearly committed to moving to the Boston area within the next year.
We've played around a little with Denver and Ohio. We've toyed with NYC and just plain staying put where we are.
But for the past month, it's always coming back to Boston. And for me that means back to bocce in the North End and
moon rise viewing from Castle Island; the brooding boys of Berklee College of Music and the endless Japanese noodles
in the Porter Exchange; the craggy coasts of Maine, brilliant autumns of New Hampshire, the lush green mountains of Vermont,
and NYC in under four hours without spending twenty dollars in tolls; the fish at Pomodoro, the omelettes at
Soundbites, and the tapas/sangria at Dali; Breakfast of Champions on MIT college radio, the best indie CD shops, and all
those fabulous intimate live music venues; the Brattle, the Harvard Film Archive, and Coolidge Corner Theatre. I have to admit
that I'm so very close to nostalgic tears just thinking about it all.
But most of all-- best of all-- it's back to the most naturally artificial home base. A place where we are anchored in
casual and intimate friendships. A place where we feel at home. A place that keeps us guessing and inspired. B has
always dreamed of going to school in Massachusetts. And I miss Boston more than I've ever been able to outwardly
admit.
We're still thinking, talking, comparing, contrasting, debating, and swimming in all of these ideas-- and nothing
is definite. But I know that deep inside I feel my internal compass pointing North-- and it feels like I'm already home. |
