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In grad school, I lived in Boston’s Beacon Hill, a neighborhood that can now claim to be the unlikely former home of Ted Kennedy, Sylvia Plath, John Kerry, and me in my art student days. Although I felt out of place, I adored the worn brick sidewalks and the view of a picturesque courtyard from my tiny basement studio. I loved to entertain, and would invite way too many people over to sit on my floor and eat beans (or something else that fit my limited budget). This haphazard dinner party style followed me all through my many East Coast moves, to apartments of varying sizes, all with mismatched chairs that were uncomfortable and too few. I’ve been under the impression that I love throwing parties ever since. [Read more…]