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Some time ago, when we had only been dating a few months, Boyfriend dropped quite a bomb on my cute little big stubborn head: he wanted to quit his job and go back to grad school…outside of New Jersey.  Now, if you happen to be lucky enough to know either of us personally, the fact that he wanted to leave the Garden State should not come as a shock.  We’ve both been trying vehemently to get out since we graduated from high school and went to college in other states.  New Jersey, and especially central Jersey, where we’re from, really has a way of sucking you right back in though, and lo and behold, we both wound up back at home after college.  So it wasn’t that I was shocked, surprised, or alarmed at the fact that he again wanted to put some distance between him and the NJ Turnpike – it was that college, and my ex-boyfriends, had exhausted whatever zeal I may have had for long-distance relationships (admittedly, not much to begin with).

Needless to say, I am unbelievably proud of him for taking the steps that will enable him to one day secure his dream job.  But I’m not going to lie to you, him, or anyone else – having him live five hours away from me for the forseeable future freaking blows.

The upside to all of this (and trust me, I needed some upsides for the sake of my sanity) is that five hours does not require a plane ride, and that it gives me a whole new city to explore eat my way through!  So from here on out, people, expect to see some Boston in this blog, because as of last weekend, when I moved Boyfriend into his new apartment, I officially got some Beantown in my life.

A while back, Gourmet published one of their “8 Great” lists of the best ice cream places in Boston.  And I read it a month before Boyfriend moved.  Guess what made the agenda during the very first (of what will hopefully be many) Boston weekend.  You guessed it, ice cream.  More specifically, the Toasted Gingerbread ice cream sundae from a restaurant near Copley called Picco.

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This was, by the way, Labor Day weekend, also known as The Weekend Boston Chose to Announce that it was Fall! We ate our dessert in sweatshirts and jeans because suddenly, as if someone had flipped a switch, it was no longer summer.  The day before had been shorts and t-shirts.  The next day, I could fathom ingesting nothing but the dark spiciness of real, honest-to-goodness gingerbread and some of the rich, pumpkin-spiced beers of autumn.  And surrounded by the hustle and bustle of a city full of college students returning from their sleepy summer vacations, there was no other season, no other dessert that could adequately sum up the feeling that the end of summer was upon us – whether we were ready or not.

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