The Life of a Bostonian Outside Of Boston
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The Life of a Bostonian Outside Of Boston

"Oh my god you just said wicked!"

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The Life of a Bostonian Outside Of Boston
Colleen Kincaid

Yes, I just said wicked, no the "packy" is not FedEx, I did just call that water fountain a bubbler and I do not "pahk mah cah in the Havahd yahd." If you're from the Boston area and have traveled outside of New England at any point in your life, you've probably responded to questions with one of those statements before. There's a whole different world outside of the bean town bubble, and since moving from the bitter north to the big South, I've started to notice just how different it really is.

The first thing I've noticed is that people outside of New England are generally much friendlier. Take a walk through the streets of Boston and you'll notice background noise of angry car horns and Masshole road rage. Down here, the most prominent sounds include the peaceful buzz of the Saint Charles Avenue streetcar and the constant hum of jazz music. It's also completely normal for strangers to just say hi to you on the streets. Basically, the South is like that creepy, friendly guy at a party who introduces himself to anyone and everyone, and the North is that kid sitting in the corner with his headphones in and hood on.

Perhaps this easy-going vibe stems from the fact that the South does not take their caffeine seriously enough. Back home, I could be standing in a Dunkin Donuts parking lot, sneeze and take three steps backwards and be at another Dunkin. I think the rule of thumb is that for every first born child of every Massachusetts family there is a Dunkin Donuts. Not only is the closest Dunkins to me now over 30 minutes away, the coffee shops that are in my proximity don't seem to understand coffee sizing. An extra large coffee from PJ's is about the same size as a medium from Dunks. I didn't realize my bloodstream needs caffeine just about as much as it needs hemoglobin until I moved somewhere there isn't a Dunkin Donuts on every block.

Another notable aspect of life in the South is... pretty much everyone hates Tom Brady, and it's heartbreaking. Wearing my Brady jersey typically entails dirty looks and shouts of "cheater!" Growing up with Tom Brady as the ultimate heartthrob and overall most loved person by my entire home region, hearing people insult him on such a regular basis feels almost equivalent to if someone were to insult my dog.

On a higher note, it's nice to know that there are places in the world where the temperature isn't a fluctuating forty degrees a day for half the year. Weather in New England is about as predictable as Britney Spears in 2007; it could snow one day and be seventy-five and sunny the next. Being able to wear shorts and a t-shirt for a solid 3/4 of the year without ever having to worry that there could be four feet of snow on the ground by the end of the week is definitely a perk.

With all these differences in mind, New Orleans and the South are amazing and definitely unique, even though they really don't know how to do coffee here. But my heart will always hold a special place for my wicked awesome home city no matter where I end up. I'll always be a coffee-guzzling, Tom Brady-loving Masshole. Wicked pissah.


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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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