Dirty Little Secret

19 Sep

I need you guys to go ahead and play this video for effect as you read this blog:


I regret to inform you that for about 2 weeks, I have been hiding something from you. Well, technically I haven’t kept anything from you because I haven’t blogged in 2 weeks. But I do have a secret that I feel I need to share with you because integrity and shit. The good news is I’m not pregnant. The bad news is I’m moving to Weymouth.

Yup. Weymouth. I know what you’re thinking: “You sellout-hypocritical-ass-bitch-slut! You made fun of Weymouth for years by writing that it’s only claim to fame was that it was hometown of the Cliffhanger outdoor patio, Amazing Adult Video Express, and the guy from the movie Blow!!!!”

I know. But guess what? Amazing burned down. And George Jung was released from prison. Sure, the Cliffhanger is alive and well, but Winter is coming and maybe the outdoor patio activity will cease for a few months. Shit happens. Quincy is my heart and if I could afford a house in Quincy I would never leave. But right now, Weymouth is as close to Quincy as I can get. Don’t judge me unless you’ve been furiously scouring Quincy for an affordable decent starter home for over a year only to be heartbroken 79.2 times. However, I realize you’re human so if you do want to judge, let me paint a clearer picture for you. THIS is the kind of house I can afford in Quincy in my price range:



All for a fixer upper. But not down for total demolition. Ya feel me? I mean, I don’t even like to vacuum, let alone install a new house.

So what does this mean for me? Does this mean I’m not a Quincy girl anymore? Am I just going to be some whack-ass Weymouth girl who believes that Mary Lou’s coffee is coffee and not just a chocolate drink? Who thinks they are hardcore because they are from a section of  Weymouth that ends in “dub” (18 isn’t 8 Mile Road, you guys), and have lived through the terror of Route 18 between the hours of 5 and 6pm?  No. Because once you are “from” a place in which you have peed in the woods of a marshy peninsula on a frigid drunken evening when you were 17, you remain part of that place forever. Your *DNA (*pee) binds you to that sacred, disgusting, ground. You become the dirty that is Quincy. If you are from a place that you are confident you could drive through blindly, knowing every congested traffic intersection (all of them), when to slow down and brace for every pothole, then you are forever “from” those infuriating roads. When you have eaten even one piece of Wollaston Theater popcorn and roughly 236 personal panned pizzas from Alumni or Fowler House in your lifetime, then you have accepted the body of Quincy into your soul. Does that make sense without being sacreligious? No? Okay.

What I am getting at here is that I am forever a Quincy girl. I’m basically just updating a house I bought, building equity for a few years, obtaining more shit on Weymouth, then planning my escape. I suppose I could always divorce my husband and move back to Wollaston with my parents, but then I think they’d return the patio set that they bought me…and that would be counterproductive. Plus I like my husband and want to live in a house with him.  All jokes aside, right now, I am excited about this move and look forward to a new chapter, and any new blog material that might come along with homeownership (spoiler alert: my next blog will be entitled “I’m Poor”!).

So Quincy, I’ll be in you (sounds sexy) every day and having a 5ish year sleepover in the next town over. I hope you understand. Over and out.



One Response to “Dirty Little Secret”

  1. Brett September 19, 2014 at 11:37 pm #

    LOL, I was *sure* you were going to say you were pregnant! The irony is that Quincy is no longer affordable to so many people who grew up there! I too made the jump to Weymouth when I was about your age, but it wasn’t so much the cost factor as I was just sick of Quincy at that point in my life. My irony was that in high school we ragged on North Weymouth “rats” (South Weymouth being the “nice” part of town) and of course I ended up in North Weymouth.

    I think you can still write your blog from Weymouth because IMO it’s more about your twisted humor than it is the Q. And I’m sure you’ll be back enough to keep it real should you choose to write about Quincy.

    Good luck in the new house, Molly, and I look forward to perhaps seeing you skewer your new “suburban” life in Weymouth!

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