I've been living in East Boston for almost three years now and, aside from the fairly recent little spike in violent crime, I've loved pretty much every minute of it. I have especially loved my sweet little apartment in the "historic Eagle Hill neighborhood." My bachelorette pad is on the third floor of an 1870s Victorian with gorgeous wood floors, even in the large sunny eat-in kitchen and in the huge bathroom with the claw-foot tub. The small bedroom (just big enough for my queen-size bed and 2 small bureaus) and petite living room are more than offset by the spacious kitchen and bath, as well as the spectacular private deck off the kitchen, with its view of the Mystic River, the Zakim Bridge, and the TD Banknorth Garden. My neighbors have been downright neighborly and, with the exception of some minor vandalism to my car, I have had no problems with safety or security to my self or my belongings.

Alas, my apartment and I are having a parting of the ways. My landlord, due to a change in his personal circumstances, has decided to move into my apartment himself and, as nice as he no doubt thinks I am, he expects me not to be there when he moves in.

As it happens, I will be saying farewell to East Boston in the process of saying goodbye to my wonderful little apartment. In fact, for the first time in at least 10 years, I am moving out of the city of Boston itself and into one of the surrounding communities. Never fear, fellow Bostonians: I'm not going far! I am, however, moving a bit further north, to the beach. Yes, I will be happily situated on Revere Beach, just a short stone's throw from both Kelly's Roast Beef and Bianchi's Pizza, the latter a place my parents went for piping hot slices when they were dating back in the '50s and which is still known for killer 'za. And, well, I hardly need to tell you about Kelly's if you've ever been anywhere near Boston. Although I will be giving up that wonderful deck in Eastie, I will be gaining a beach, not to mention a washer & dryer IN MY UNIT, a walk-in closet that could pretty much hold my previous pint-sized bedroom, a small-but-brand-new kitchen with every built-in black-and-stainless appliance I will ever need, plus a view of the Atlantic Ocean, an indoor pool, a doorman, a fitness room, and an assigned parking spot. (No more fighting over traffic cones and lawn chairs for me, no sir!)

Last night, as I sat on my deck drinking my Dunkie's iced decaf, chatting on the phone with a friend while the planes flew overhead, I mused that I would miss sitting on my deck with an iced coffee after work when I move. And my friend said, "So you'll take your iced coffee and go sit on the sea wall across the street from your apartment after work instead!"

And I replied, "But I'll have to wear pants." *

*Well, okay, I usually wear pants (or shorts) when I sit on the deck in daylight, but after dark I go out there in my jammies, or in just a t-shirt and undies when it's hot. On really hot nights I've gone out there after a shower just wrapped in a damp towel. I suppose I can't really walk through the lobby of a fancy building and across the street like that. (Right?) (Oh, but did I mention the central A/C for those steamy nights?)

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