Before writing this post, I took an inventory of the number of risks i’ve taken in my 22 years of life. I came up with exactly one.

A few months ago, I packed up my belongings and moved from Austin, Texas to Boston, Massachusetts. Fun fact: The only thing harder than leaving your family, friends and boyfriend 2000 miles away is spelling Massachusetts. When I typed it in the sentence above, I spelled it incorrectly and had to google it. Then, when I typed it the previous sentence, I misspelled it again despite having already corrected it once. But I digress.

So I moved far away, and while I wouldn’t say I’ve been totally nailing it, I have learned a few things. Primarily, I learned that I’m fantastic at being alone. I already suspected I could handle a lot of alone time, but now I’ve confirmed it. Interestingly, I rarely see people alone in this city. Everyone is beautiful and tall and 99 percent of the time, with at least one other person. That’s weird. So here, Boston, I wrote this to help:

5 things you can do alone in Boston

1. Eat a humongous breakfast every  Sunday. There is no one there to judge you except the waitress. If we’re being completely honest, the waitress is likely going to judge you. But she’s also going to serve you your corn beef hash, and that’s really the important thing. You can eat that corn beef hash every Sunday until you’re tired of it, and then you can move on to nutella crepes. The world is your oyster!
2. Wander around Boston Common and get really obnoxious with your instagrams. You’re alone! Do that thing where you crouch down on the ground and angle your phone up at a plant or a statue. People will like basically anything on instagram, including your 25th picture of the statue of George Washington. Everyone loves George Washington!
3. Take the wrong train every time. No one is waiting for you. Who cares if you get on the red line instead of the orange line? Who cares if you walk 3 miles home because the train was crowded and you didn’t feel like squeezing in next to smelly Red Sox fans? No one cares. Not a single person. After a while, not even you will care.
4. Eat at every deli within a 2 mile radius of your apartment. I realize you could definitely do this with a partner, and if you have friends in Boston, more power to you. Do this with your friends. But this blog post is about me, goddamnit, and this is something I delighted in doing alone. I’m somewhat of a roast beef connoisseur now.
5. Drink a bottle of wine a week. This is a risky thing to put on my blog because it a little makes me sound like an alcoholic. I didn’t come here to be judged. I’m just saying that if you want to drink a bottle of wine a week, you should just do it. Keep good track so you know which bottles not to buy again. I didn’t do that. (Editor’s note: I drank two bottles of wine a week for a few weeks. Don’t worry about it.)

You’re welcome.

I’m not much of a crier. I never really have been, which I attribute both to my position as a middle child and the fact that with just one single tear I look like the Loch Ness monster from your childhood nightmares. It is very alarming, and my vanity just simply will not allow it.

Over the last several years, however, a pattern has emerged. On the rare occasion of a breakdown, the tears happen in public, and they are caused by objectively very stupid experiences. Below is a list, in chronological order, of absurd instances that lead to publicly losing my shit.

Year, Age: 2008, 16

Location: The rough-and-tumble streets of Plano, Texas

Situation: My sophomore year of high school, my best friends tricked me into joining the cross country team. I was (and am) chubby, slow, and deeply unmotivated. My coach was named Richard and entirely lived up to the nickname Dick. We left for our 6-mile run and I was instantly alone, which I remained for an entire hour and a half. I was so convinced that my coach would think I cheated that I began an awkward combination of jogging in circles and weeping. At one point, I ran inside of the junior high school and tearfully asked for directions, despite knowing exactly where I was. Later, a boy I had a crush on told me he saw me in his neighborhood on his way to school and then never spoke to me again.

Year, Age: 2010, 18

Location: The University of Texas, approximately 18 paces away from my orientation dorm

Situation: Like millions of soon-to-be freshmen, I attended my university’s orientation the summer before starting college. One of the first activities was a giant barbecue, which I had to leave early in order to take a French placement test. I was too proud to take a map with me, so it took no more than two minutes of walking to be completely lost. Then it started pouring down rain, rendering my white tee shirt completely see through. I ran from building to building crying and asking for directions to the testing location, which everyone kept assuring me was right around the corner, before giving up and sitting next to a statue of Martin Luther King, Jr. until I regained my fragile composure.

Year, Age: 2011, 19

Location: Atop a lifeguard stand

Situation: I started working at UT’s recreational center my second year at school, and mostly worked the early morning shifts because I am a glutton for punishment. One night, my boyfriend of one month broke up with me because he was homosexual, which I have since come to realize is the best possible reason to be dumped. It was nonetheless traumatizing and I spent the entire next 5 A.M. shift sobbing on the lifeguard stand and ignoring the concerned looks from both co-workers and patrons of the pool. No one drowned except my self esteem, which was eventually resuscitated with the help of TCBY's Waffle Cone Wednesdays.

Year, Age: 2013, 21

Location: 45,000 feet above New Jersey, in an aisle seat

Situation: I was flying from Austin to New Jersey to attend my cousin’s Bat Mitzvah. My roommate lent me a copy of John Green’s "The Fault In Our Stars," and neglected to warn me that it would make me feel things I didn't even know I could feel. I’m a really fast reader, so I finished the book quickly and spent the rest of the flight with my arms crossed on the tray table and my head tucked away, trying to discreetly wipe my snotty nose with the tear-soaked tiny napkin that came with my Sprite. The elderly couple next to me was justifiably horrified. I still have not forgiven my roommate.

Year, Age: 2014, 22

Location: Anytime Fitness, the last elliptical on the right

Situation: "The Help" was playing on the little TV attached to the machine. I knew I shouldn't watch it because I always cry when I watch "The Help," but I was so bored and miserable and just wanted to be entertained. When Skeeter finds out her mother fired Constantine, I cried just as much as she did. Emma Stone is a beautiful, composed crier. I looked like a sweaty boogeyman. It is important to note that my employer pays for this gym membership, so I was surrounded by coworkers. They were very polite and ignored me, which is really all I've ever wanted from a gym membership.