Considering how terrible I typically am at keeping in touch, I have spent time in person with a surprising number of Ole classmates since May 29. Thanks to Bizz III, and to Grampa and Thomas for making her possible.
I swear that car is the automotive version of me -- she's cute, in a flashy-granola kind of way. She's gas-pedal-happy, likes to be on the open road, hates waiting in traffic; hates changing gears but when it comes down to it, she's got a tiny turn radius. Comfortable cruising speed around 60mph. She likes to flirt with trucks, other VWs, hatchbacks, station wagons, and Rovers. Also cute boys in SUVs with Minnesota license plates, who went to Wayzata High School.
I spent the weekend in Boston visiting my brother at Northeastern -- asked for Saturday off since his studio project was due on Friday and he wouldn't be working on it all weekend as usual. Despite the fact that I spent the majority of Saturday's daylight in the car, I clocked 90,000 steps and got a mild sunburn. Boston is a really cool city, but going back there this time I was surprised at how fiercely fond I have become of Wilmington. The past two times I visited Boston I was scheming up ways to move there; this time, I found myself comparing it constantly with "home" -- not always favorably, but definitely fondly. And like I said, the fierceness of that fondness is what struck me most. I hook onto the strangest places.
Ann once accused me of liking to defend people, and I think she made a really interesting point. I do tend to enjoy the company of difficult, dysfunctional, or abrasive people, and I fiercely treasure their selling points despite all the external spines. I could easily translate this to places, too: the infamous Amsterdam, for one, and now Wilmington. Although it does bother me that it's so hard to walk or ride bike around this city... I do really love that about Boston. And don't get me wrong, I had a really wonderful time there this weekend.
I didn't even mind the driving as much as I normally do -- a la Friday's "patience" reminder. That being said, I was not by any means immune to the stresses of traffic and wrong turns. One section of I-84 was completely closed off -- after waiting in an hour of confused bumper-to-bumper traffic I rerouted myself to rural Connecticut, and stopped at two separate gas stations to ask for directions. The second time I asked, "Can you tell me how to get to Waterbury?" And the guy just looked at me and said, "This is Waterbury."
I blazed by Christian in Hartford, Karin in Queens, stopped for a quick falafel in New Haven with Audrey, and narrowly avoided impulsively turning west on 87 instead of east, to hit up Amsterdam's homecoming weekend. I carry your hearts, I carry them in my heart. Feeling strung out, I finally pulled onto Andrew and Britta's Jersey City street, parked a fuming Bizz III on the curb, and decided to tackle the Jersey Turnpike first thing Monday morning. We stayed in, eating Chinese delivery and drinking Brooklyn Oktoberfest while watching Dude Where's My Car. Classic. I really am lucky to have such great friends.
And I left Jersey City at 4am, startling a skunk eating trash on the sidewalk (fortunately no stinking at me, he hid in somebody's wheel well while I passed by). I had to stop 10 miles out of Delaware to get gas -- seven-dollars' worth to be exact, and self-service is illegal in New Jersey. So I had to give a kindly old gas attendant my measly seven dollars, just so I could get home, and get to work in another 2 hours. "Have a nice day now, Hon," he said with a smile as I drove away.
I love the people in my life.
I know a lot of us are feeling a little desperate right now, dissatisfied with our jobs or maybe lonely, or maybe that there is no end in sight. What I'm remembering is that it takes time to adjust, and as it turns out we have plenty of it. We just have to be patient. (I am the worst at that.) It also helps to pick up the phone, or to stop in Jersey City every now and then.
I swear that car is the automotive version of me -- she's cute, in a flashy-granola kind of way. She's gas-pedal-happy, likes to be on the open road, hates waiting in traffic; hates changing gears but when it comes down to it, she's got a tiny turn radius. Comfortable cruising speed around 60mph. She likes to flirt with trucks, other VWs, hatchbacks, station wagons, and Rovers. Also cute boys in SUVs with Minnesota license plates, who went to Wayzata High School.
I spent the weekend in Boston visiting my brother at Northeastern -- asked for Saturday off since his studio project was due on Friday and he wouldn't be working on it all weekend as usual. Despite the fact that I spent the majority of Saturday's daylight in the car, I clocked 90,000 steps and got a mild sunburn. Boston is a really cool city, but going back there this time I was surprised at how fiercely fond I have become of Wilmington. The past two times I visited Boston I was scheming up ways to move there; this time, I found myself comparing it constantly with "home" -- not always favorably, but definitely fondly. And like I said, the fierceness of that fondness is what struck me most. I hook onto the strangest places.
Ann once accused me of liking to defend people, and I think she made a really interesting point. I do tend to enjoy the company of difficult, dysfunctional, or abrasive people, and I fiercely treasure their selling points despite all the external spines. I could easily translate this to places, too: the infamous Amsterdam, for one, and now Wilmington. Although it does bother me that it's so hard to walk or ride bike around this city... I do really love that about Boston. And don't get me wrong, I had a really wonderful time there this weekend.
I didn't even mind the driving as much as I normally do -- a la Friday's "patience" reminder. That being said, I was not by any means immune to the stresses of traffic and wrong turns. One section of I-84 was completely closed off -- after waiting in an hour of confused bumper-to-bumper traffic I rerouted myself to rural Connecticut, and stopped at two separate gas stations to ask for directions. The second time I asked, "Can you tell me how to get to Waterbury?" And the guy just looked at me and said, "This is Waterbury."
I blazed by Christian in Hartford, Karin in Queens, stopped for a quick falafel in New Haven with Audrey, and narrowly avoided impulsively turning west on 87 instead of east, to hit up Amsterdam's homecoming weekend. I carry your hearts, I carry them in my heart. Feeling strung out, I finally pulled onto Andrew and Britta's Jersey City street, parked a fuming Bizz III on the curb, and decided to tackle the Jersey Turnpike first thing Monday morning. We stayed in, eating Chinese delivery and drinking Brooklyn Oktoberfest while watching Dude Where's My Car. Classic. I really am lucky to have such great friends.
And I left Jersey City at 4am, startling a skunk eating trash on the sidewalk (fortunately no stinking at me, he hid in somebody's wheel well while I passed by). I had to stop 10 miles out of Delaware to get gas -- seven-dollars' worth to be exact, and self-service is illegal in New Jersey. So I had to give a kindly old gas attendant my measly seven dollars, just so I could get home, and get to work in another 2 hours. "Have a nice day now, Hon," he said with a smile as I drove away.
I love the people in my life.
I know a lot of us are feeling a little desperate right now, dissatisfied with our jobs or maybe lonely, or maybe that there is no end in sight. What I'm remembering is that it takes time to adjust, and as it turns out we have plenty of it. We just have to be patient. (I am the worst at that.) It also helps to pick up the phone, or to stop in Jersey City every now and then.
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