from New Haven: done

I would say an eight-year relationship is pretty hefty, wouldn’t you? It gives you time to make friends and get bored a little. You develop a history.

My relationship with New Haven has been eight years and now it’s time to call it quits. I’m bowing out.

I hated you when I first saw you. Drab, I thought. But you wooed me. That dinner on the cold rainy March day! I still remember it.

I’m into ratings. I rate your food as awesome. From the pizza to the ethnic beauties – I’ve eaten Ethiopian, South American, North American, Indian, Malaysian, Spanish -- ohhh, I’m having regrets! This is not good!

The reality is that I came here only because my daughters made this their home. Good old daughters. Quirky daughters. New Haven??? It wasn’t meant to last. Now, one has chosen DC, the other is heading west to PA in CA – stay put already, so I can get bored again!

Okay, I haven’t always been bored in New Haven. I have cried here at the various events that I have attended. I have cried when I have left daughters behind and headed home.

And, I have acted stupidly here. Never more stupidly than on the night of September 1st, 2005. The Hot Tomato's bar. Those in the know will nod their heads sagely. Yep, she was an ass then. You are right. I cannot sing je ne regrette rien since that day.

But mostly, it has been a place where my family assembles every now and then. Solid love. And, memories of physical toil (the moving in, the moving out). And mental anguish (did anyone read the New Yorker bit this week about college being one big ride on the anxiety train?).

So, it’s my final visit here.

New Haven. Such a place. Wonderful to be back, this one last time. [I’m staying away from Hot Tomato's.]