One of the associate directors at my old job told me that Bostonians aren't friendly. For the most part, that is false, but we've noticed Whole Foods locations here (we've been to two) are an exception. The staff aren't friendly at all. The second most recent trip to the Charles River Plaza location near Mass General was a bummer for several reasons: paid parking lot and unfriendly cashier. On top of our massive grocery bill, we paid 10 bucks for parking!! We were only in there for about an hour. AC said that he said hi to the cashier and the cashier did not respond. The cashier was a punk for another reason: he did not mention that parking was validated with a $5 purchase!! I discovered this when I read the bottom of the receipt once we were home. Ugh.
The thing that drives me so crazy here is the roads...we live right off US-1, which is, for you Bay Area readers, like El Camino Real with a 50MPH limit. The exits are not all off-ramps--imagine you're speeding on El Camino at 50MPH and need to stop for gas. You simply signal and turn into the gas station, right off the road! And if you need to get to the other side of the freeway, good luck figuring out what exit will have a chance for you to turn left over the freeway. It took me 5 tries before I figured out that it wasn't the first Main St. exit, but the next one... yes, two exits named Main St. but with different cities after them. And the first 4 tries I couldn't turn left or make a U-turn--I had to find a street to turn right so I could make a U- or 3-point turn and THEN another left to get back on the right track!
And don't get me started on the rotaries...you're driving along when all of a sudden you come up to a rotary. You know, a roundabout. But with exits. So you yield to oncoming traffic, jump in when you can, and good luck if you need to cut across to take the next exit from the rotary you just entered! It is crazy and scary the first time. Visit me and you'll see what I mean. Sometimes I add sound effects if traffic is a little heavy.
One thing I do like about the parking here is that some lots have a spot next to the disabled ones for expectant mothers or parents of infants. My 20-month-old chubster is more of a toddler, but if it's the closest spot and it's open, I take it.
19 January 2010
06 January 2010
The Final Countdown
The 26th of December, we shipped out our stuff. I actually got a lump in my throat as the movers started putting stickers on all our boxes and furniture. This is it!
And then the 28th arrived. Our flight was at 10:15 PM. The cats were at my mom's, hiding in her bathroom. And at 7PM we were STILL throwing stuff out. So we threw out what we could, threw the rest into storage, took some stuff to my mom's (mind you poor Artianna was hungry again at this point, and luckily I had an apple and cheese snack pack to hold her over) and headed into the City on fumes! I parked on the sidewalk, got the cats, threw stuff into my mom's house (wait till she finds that bottle of Grey Goose on the table) and took off. By now it's 8:30 or so. We still need gas and to return the rental car. We stop for gas, and then Art drops me, Artie, the cats, and 5 of our 6 bags at the terminal with a cart and goes to return the car. I ask if I can check us all in, and the lady kindly says yes but Art will still need to go to the counter (skipping the line) with his ID for his boarding pass. Since JetBlue is at the international terminal, you can't take the carts with you through security. So Art is hauling one cat, one rolling carryon, and the car seat, while I am trying to get Artianna to walk while I pull her carry-on, the diaper bag, and the other cat. We get in separate lines (it's now around 9:40) and start taking off jackets and shoes. And then they tell me that I need to take the cat out of the carrier and carry her through with me and Artie. We make it through and I am trying to run but of all days Artianna decides now would be a nice time to walk and look at the big shiny ads. Meanwhile, people are stuffing toys in the diaper bag that keep falling out. I keep saying, "C'mon! Run, Artie, run!" I have no idea where Art is at this point. (His delay was taking all 3 laptops out of the carryon so they could be checked by security. In addition to taking the cat out of the carrier for the same process I went through.) Naturally, we're at the last gate, which also happens to be downstairs. I figure if I can get us all onto the moving walkway, I can run ahead, put down the cat and suitcase, and catch Artie as she comes off the walkway. Well, she came faster than I expected, and she didn't know to step off so she kind of fell off the walkway face first. As I ran to her I dropped everything else....meaning the cat. One woman saw me and felt so bad she pulled the suitcase to the elevator for me. We got on the elevator (all this time we are hearing, "Final Boarding Call for JetBlue passengers Arturo Contreras, Nancy Contreras....") and when we got off, I tried to get her to run again but she wouldn't so as I'm calling behind me I run to the counter and a nice older woman picks up Artie and brings her to me! As I'm telling the agent "my husband is on his way--he's right behind me" she assures me the flight won't leave without him. Finally, poor Art is running down the escalator, dragging the car seat, and muttering, "TOLD you we shoulda driven."
We were the last ones on, but we made it. We hardly even slept on the flight. It goes without saying that we were zombies once we got settled into our apartment.
And then the 28th arrived. Our flight was at 10:15 PM. The cats were at my mom's, hiding in her bathroom. And at 7PM we were STILL throwing stuff out. So we threw out what we could, threw the rest into storage, took some stuff to my mom's (mind you poor Artianna was hungry again at this point, and luckily I had an apple and cheese snack pack to hold her over) and headed into the City on fumes! I parked on the sidewalk, got the cats, threw stuff into my mom's house (wait till she finds that bottle of Grey Goose on the table) and took off. By now it's 8:30 or so. We still need gas and to return the rental car. We stop for gas, and then Art drops me, Artie, the cats, and 5 of our 6 bags at the terminal with a cart and goes to return the car. I ask if I can check us all in, and the lady kindly says yes but Art will still need to go to the counter (skipping the line) with his ID for his boarding pass. Since JetBlue is at the international terminal, you can't take the carts with you through security. So Art is hauling one cat, one rolling carryon, and the car seat, while I am trying to get Artianna to walk while I pull her carry-on, the diaper bag, and the other cat. We get in separate lines (it's now around 9:40) and start taking off jackets and shoes. And then they tell me that I need to take the cat out of the carrier and carry her through with me and Artie. We make it through and I am trying to run but of all days Artianna decides now would be a nice time to walk and look at the big shiny ads. Meanwhile, people are stuffing toys in the diaper bag that keep falling out. I keep saying, "C'mon! Run, Artie, run!" I have no idea where Art is at this point. (His delay was taking all 3 laptops out of the carryon so they could be checked by security. In addition to taking the cat out of the carrier for the same process I went through.) Naturally, we're at the last gate, which also happens to be downstairs. I figure if I can get us all onto the moving walkway, I can run ahead, put down the cat and suitcase, and catch Artie as she comes off the walkway. Well, she came faster than I expected, and she didn't know to step off so she kind of fell off the walkway face first. As I ran to her I dropped everything else....meaning the cat. One woman saw me and felt so bad she pulled the suitcase to the elevator for me. We got on the elevator (all this time we are hearing, "Final Boarding Call for JetBlue passengers Arturo Contreras, Nancy Contreras....") and when we got off, I tried to get her to run again but she wouldn't so as I'm calling behind me I run to the counter and a nice older woman picks up Artie and brings her to me! As I'm telling the agent "my husband is on his way--he's right behind me" she assures me the flight won't leave without him. Finally, poor Art is running down the escalator, dragging the car seat, and muttering, "TOLD you we shoulda driven."
We were the last ones on, but we made it. We hardly even slept on the flight. It goes without saying that we were zombies once we got settled into our apartment.
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