I have a serious love-hate relationship with Boston.
It’s home to several people that I care about (including the Bruins) and has arguably some of the best brunch spots in America. However, every single time I visit, I leave with a firm “okay seriously, that was the last time” mindset. The hangovers, driving that evokes my road rage, and alerts from my bank letting me know that I’ve successfully overdrawn my account all make for a less than desirable ride home. But then, a few months later, I again find myself spending a weekend there visiting friends or celebrating a special occasion. This one was a biggie: One of the last bachelorette celebrations in my circle of close friends. (Yours truly, holding up the caboose, hayyy).