A Tale of Two Maker’s and Gingers

It can be like pulling teeth to get this crew to even leave our block. That they trekked 300 miles just for me is still astounding. (I can say this because they all know I love them dearly. Also because it's true.)

It can be like pulling teeth to get this crew to even leave our block. That they trekked 300 miles just for me is still astounding. (I can say this because they all know I love them dearly. Also because it’s true.)

Ever wanted to experience the gamut of all human emotions in a 24-hour period? It’s easy. Follow these steps:

1. Demand that your boyfriend throw you a birthday party months in advance

2. Convince yourself that it won’t happen

3. Perceive the lack of an event on your actual day of birth as a sign that everyone you know decided other plans and/or Christmas were more important

4. Pitch a hissy fit that lasts until the next morning

5. Continue your petulance until your boyfriend relents and makes you promise you’ll still be surprised when your family arrives at your apartment in 45 minutes Continue reading

Happy Birthday Dad

Well, times certainly have changed.

Well, times certainly have changed.

 

Today, my dad would have turned 58. Since he’s no longer with us, I wanted to do something to mark the day (pun actually not intended) and yesterday had a stroke of slightly selfish genius. Whenever I would come up to Massachusetts to visit Ryan, Dad would always – without fail – ask if we went to Pizzeria Regina. We never did during the long distance days, but have split pies on several occasions since I moved.

He had probably visited Regina about three times in the preceding 15 years. I’d assume he first encountered the North End’s finest pizza (in my not-so-humble opinion) while visiting Aunt Celeste. He dragged a big group of us there to eat in 2004 during the DNC pretty late at night after a then-14-year-old AJ got us turned away from a 21-plus party. When a satellite opened in Paramus, he drove many miles out of his way to get it. This I don’t really understand, because everyone knows Regina’s just regular pizza outside the North End. You need the original oven to get the good stuff. And, besides, in New Jersey, Reservoir is just as good.

But I digress.

It would have felt wrong to let the day pass without acknowledging it and yet I’m entirely sure how I’ve spent it the past two years in Boston. Maybe I went home? I don’t know. Continue reading