Category Archives: boston

what a difference a year makes.

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(from my guy, today.)

One year ago today, I landed in Boston on a JetBlue flight from Seattle and gave Gradon an exhausted, trembly, overwhelmed hug (or nine) at the airport.

About 15 hours before that, I was handed a visa at the US border, about 30 minutes from my parents’ house.

The type of visa I received is one you can only apply for in person. You have to come with your bags packed to go where you plan to go, and with your ticket to ride in hand. Ostensibly, that’s because they need to know you’re serious before they even consider you… and I was.

The combination of elation and emotion I felt when they approved me was one of the most curious things I’ve ever experienced. I was thrilled to be over one more hurdle in making my big move, but I was also nothing short of devastated to be leaving my family and friends behind.

I didn’t know how to navigate that conflict in my heart in the moment, so I put it off for the next few hours while we drove to SeaTac. I almost caved when my mom and dad gave me a beautiful bracelet an hour later, but I managed to hold it together a while longer while we rode on.

I can’t really write about saying goodbye to my parents at the security gate without crying again (oh, look, there I go…) because I knew I was breaking their hearts a little — they would now have two kids (and our respective significant others) living a couple plane rides away.

To color that emotion in a bit more, I’ll tell you two things: that we’re very close, and that a fair amount of my parents’ good friends live within an hour of their kids, and see them several times a week. I’m sure they feel a little shafted by how different their experience has become, even though they know it’s the norm for a lot of other families (maybe most?) And the last time I’d lived more than a shortish drive away from them, I was in my first couple years of university. That was more than a decade ago.

But I knew they were excited for me, and they’d actively supported the whole process like troopers. That didn’t change during the drive down. But that goodbye when we got there? I definitely don’t need to do that again. I sat on a bench beyond the security lineups when I was through — they didn’t give the blubbering girl a pat-down, in a rare show of mercy — and tried to get myself together.

It was easier once I got to Boston and saw Gradon waiting for me, but I still felt incredibly guilty for putting 3,000 miles between me and the two people I love most on earth, besides the one I’m going to marry. I still do, though I don’t think I call or write nearly enough to show them that’s the case — and no doubt my hesitation at times is directly tied into my desire not to fall apart on the phone, or some other terrible excuse.

I love you, Mom and Dad. Thanks for making it work. I miss you very, very much.

So.

Gradon.

The reason for the move. Him.

He’s rather amazing.

He makes me laugh, he makes me think, he makes me feel like anything is possible, he makes me feel safe, he makes me feel beautiful. I find all the things I ever dreamed of in his bespectacled, smiling face.

He’s not perfect, of course, but I’m certainly not either. We’re learning to see eye to eye on things like budgets, housecleaning, and how we spend our time, and for the most part, we end up on the same page. We argue from time to time, but those moments are blessedly short-lived, and end in apologies and conversations about how to do better.

Since I arrived, he’s transitioned from freelancing in jeans and Chuck Taylors to a huge job (in a shirt and tie… and pants, of course) working as an online community manager for a major regional bank. We both put in full days, and then commute an hour or so on either end. That doesn’t leave a ton of time together in the evening, but we still manage to eat dinner together almost every night, and watch our share of Netflix discs while he tries to keep his eyes open, and I jabber and flail at the television (family habit.)

We’re engaged now, too, as of February, and we’re jumping through hoops to come up with a wedding plan (heck, a date) in the late fall / earlyish winter (because winter starts early here!). It will be a small celebration with our families and just a few friends, and it will be “us”, however it takes shape. Can’t say much more about that, but when I do, it will be here.

On that day, I’ll also become a stepmom. To one (by then) 13 year-old, and a kind of step-stepmom to a 16 year-old.

They?

Are fantastic.

Noisy, hilarious, alternately (and passionately) in love with their PS3/Nintendo DS/iPod Touch/phones, given to picky but voracious appetites, slightly messy, occasionally smelly, and very infrequently cranky, too. Not to mention ridiculous to watch on Facebook.

But fantastic.

The whole “(step) mom” thing was something I always figured would come naturally, though that will be more my title of sorts than my name (I’m “Meg” or “Meg! Meg! Meg! Look!” or “Hey, do we have soda?”, depending on the moment) and I think it does. I’ve spent more time around kids in my life than almost anyone else, and I tend to fit in (and not just because I’m short.) That doesn’t mean it’s not an adjustment, of course… because it is.

I used to sleep in super late on the weekends, and then spend the rest of the day running errands, getting the occasional mani-pedi, and cooking meals that fit my cravings… and my cravings alone.

Now my weekends are made up of laundry (at the laundromat, but BOY, are we ever going to have in-suite laundry in our next place in July, when our lease is up… wherever that ends up being), cleaning, running errands, and feeding/laughing at/hanging out with crazy-haired teenagers who make fun of me and take up the whole living room with their ever-increasing gangliness.

Even when it’s an adjustment, I wouldn’t change it. It feels right. I love them. In whatever way they can be mine, they are.

So.

The rest of my life.

Work — that thing I do all day.

I’m so thankful for it, and in no small part because it brought me here successfully.

I’m lucky to work with brilliant, talented people at Sametz Blackstone Associates. They haven’t left me on the curb in hopes that someone else will take me away (yet), and for that I’m grateful. I learn something new here every single day and I laugh every single day — and I don’t know how many people can say that’s true of their jobs. Also, I get to hang out with very cute dogs, and visit the bakery around the corner far too often.

(Update: I just learned that one of those beautiful dogs is very sick, and will be leaving us today. Callie, you were a big part of this family, and a dear part of my day. You will be missed, beautiful girl.)

Finally, we have my friends.

This has maybe been the hardest part — not, of course, because of anything to do with my friends, but because moving to a new community and setting up new relationships is always challenging. Unlike Gradon, they don’t have to love me unconditionally (well, I guess he doesn’t either, but HE BETTER), and unlike Gradon and the folks I work with, I don’t see them every day. It takes a little more time to cement a connection.

I do miss the easy way I fit into all the communities I was a part of back in Vancouver, and the inside jokes and normal haunts and habits I had with my dear friends (including my bestie, Catherine.)

Add on top of that my tendency to isolate myself a little when I’m stressed (read: stay home/cook/Netflix. Full stop!) and a dose of my natural shyness, and it’s a bit of a challenge. Also, I can be annoying sometimes. I know… it’s a shock, right?

But I’ve found some lovely people. They include me in their plans, they bring energy and joy into my life, and they’re all interesting and funny and special in their own right. Some of them, I’ve met through Gradon, and some of them on my own. All of them are wonderful. I love them dearly, and hope to continue growing these relationships in the years to come.

So.

That’s the life I chose a year ago, a year later.

I think the last 365 days have added a few more lines to my face — some probably from the stress, but most from smiling and laughing (and I should probably credit some of them to the crazy wind and weather we have here.)

Those days have also added:

more love

more stories

more plans

more complexity

more skills

more joy

… just plain more.

I’m proud of most of it. Almost all.

And thanks for following along.

seemed like as good a time as any for an FAQ.

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1. How did you and Gradon meet?

Well, technically, like this. On Twitter, via our blogs. Apparently he liked mine. Then I clicked through to his, and lo… he was cute. We talked back and forth from Vancouver (me) to Boston (he) for months and months, via Twitter Direct Message, via Gmail chat, via email, via Skype, via iChat, and via phone. In the process, we got pretty attached to one another, and even managed to put together our first event for SM4SC with our dear friend Matt… the impetus for my first trip to Boston. Once we met? Done deal.

Did we intend to find someone to date on Twitter? Nope. Would anyone in their right mind choose someone 3,000 miles away to meet on Twitter? Nope. Was the process bump-free? Nope. Will we ever get back all the money we spent on long distance bills and plane tickets? Nope.

Any regrets? Nope.

2. Wow… so you met on Twitter. Is that unusual?

No, not really, although I guess the long distance nature of our relationship, and the fact that we were on Twitter before that darned Oprah and Ashton Kutcher probably makes it more interesting. We’ve actually been in a few newspapers and on a couple of radio shows to talk about it.

Now, of course, there are entire businesses dedicated to setting people up on Twitter and other social networks, and couples and friendships galore have sprung up from just 140 characters. This trend has also led to the creation of the word, “tweethearts.”

I guess that’s us… though I prefer “twilationship.” I’m kidding.

3. So when did you move to Boston? And why didn’t he move to Vancouver?

I moved to Boston on April 29th, 2010, after taking a position at Sametz Blackstone Associates. That’s a story I won’t be telling here, since it involves governments and paperwork. But I love the folks at Sametz Blackstone — and you should work with us!

Gradon didn’t move to Vancouver because he has a fantastic (now 12 year-old) son close to Boston that he shares custody of. A fantastic son who will be my stepson one day! Which is beyond awesome, let me tell you.

I’m not able to have children of my own due to an autoimmune disorder — a reality I became aware of just a few years ago, and something I’ve struggled with ever since. And the rules and costs and roadblocks involved in adoption are somewhat blinding…. especially for people who come from two different countries.

Which is why the blessing of this hilarious, brilliant, kind child coming into my life? I really can’t explain how big that is. I won’t even try.

4. Wow — so you moved 3,000 miles. How has that been?

I would call this move, and the adjustment to a new community that followed, one of the best and most difficult things I’ve experienced. There are some great folks here, and I’ve made some wonderful friends (including people I work with each day) who bring a lot of joy into my life.

Of course, it takes time for acquaintances to become real pals, and time to learn the social landscape of any new place. The things my friends at home know and accept and love about me aren’t necessarily the things that people see in me here, and I’ve had my moments of being confused, and feeling lonely. I miss my family terribly, too.

I also have a habit of isolating myself when I’m stressed out (I don’t barricade myself in a restroom or anything), which I know has led to some of those relationships developing a bit more slowly. And of course, there’s very little that’s unconditional about brand new friendships, so I’m sure I’ve mucked up a few potential bonds just by being my own, flawed, imperfect self. Heh.

But people have been moving to unfamiliar places to follow love, work, duty, or wanderlust since time began. There’s nothing special about this leap in the grand scheme of things… except to us.

I’m more in love than the day I first arrived here.

5. Do you like Boston?

I do! It’s a gorgeous place, really, and has far more historical significance than anywhere else I’ve lived. The shopping and restaurants are lovely, although the prices are similarly hefty to Vancouver.

And speaking of hefty prices, HEY REAL ESTATE, YOU COST A LOT HERE. My apartment is half the size of the one I had in Canada, and and the rent is about 50% more.

Any other drawbacks? Well, aside from pricey rents, the antique transit system is kind of horrifyingly erratic and slow, which means that my commute of less than ten miles can sometimes take longer than an hour. Yoinks. Also? No good sushi. Really. None. Anyone who tells you Boston has good sushi has never had sushi in Vancouver.

Any other benefits? Well, I like having four whole seasons, even if the summer was record-breakingly hot and humid, and this winter has brought (you guessed it!) record-breaking snowfalls.

It has been fun to get to know the city through Gradon’s eyes, too — he’s definitely a Bostonian at heart.

6. When are you guys going to make it official?

Well, funny you should mention that, because Gradon proposed to me on Sunday, February 20th, 2011, exactly 3 years to the day after the tweet I mentioned up there. What’s hilarious is that I’d thought the day before was the 20th, so I’d been all smiley about the three year anniversary of that tweet on the 19th. I only realized later, after he proposed, that he’d hit the date dead on.

And lest you think Gradon was more on the ball, he’d meant to ask me the NEXT day, on the 21st, on a drive we’d planned to make to Cape Cod. Isn’t that romantic?

Instead, he proposed to me in the kitchen, with French onion soup bubbling on the stove, on bended knee, while I was wearing zero makeup and some lovely sweatpants (hence why I look monstrous in the photo up there), after we’d made up from an argument. An argument with yelling!

No, he didn’t propose to end the argument (although that would have been a hell of a “nuclear option”, don’t you think?)

We were laughing and back to normal when he asked. But perhaps the recent past made that moment seem like just the right time to recognize the strength of our love to carry us through anything and everything — to put the ultimate vote of confidence in “we”.

Or maybe he just got impatient.

Do I wish there had been more pomp and circumstance? No way. We actually re-enacted the whole thing on frosty Sandy Neck Beach at Barnstable the next day (to applause from passers-by), but the moment we had in our kitchen was perfect just as it was.

He proposed with my late grandma’s ring, which I’ll wear throughout our engagement as a way of having my family close to us during this amazing time. I’d actually planned to wear it always, but the jeweler Gradon consulted said we couldn’t put a larger stone in the setting (my grandfather was practically a kid when he bought it for her, and a hard-working one at that, so the stone reflects a young man’s budget), and that the ring itself was somewhat weakened by time.

(By the way: would I have cared that the stone was tiny? Nope. But Gradon wanted a way to make it his own, and so he’ll get me a ring of my own — but nothing TOO fancy. I don’t judge anyone who wants a giant sparkler, or has a giant sparkler, but I just can’t justify something like that when there are braces, cars, college educations, and houses, etc. to pay for in the present, and in the near future. Whatever I end up with will be perfect.)

So my wedding day will bring both another engagement ring and a wedding band — but for now, Nonna’s ring is the only one I want on my finger.

Actually, when we called to tell my parents, they were in the midst of celebrating my aunt and uncle’s 40th wedding anniversary at a big family party. A week after celebrating their own 41st wedding anniversary, mind you. And my dad’s phone rang with my big news just a couple of minutes before the whole family was due to watch the 50th wedding anniversary video of my late grandparents — the marriage that was joined by the ring I’m wearing now. I had no idea the whole thing was going on, but my mom announced our news to much applause and perhaps a few tears.

I think the timing kinda worked out nicely, don’t you?

I think the marriage will, too.