burning like matchsticks in the face of the darkness

I found Nicole's apartment without incident.  She's just about exactly 10 minutes from the T station.  And has a seriously nice apartment.
Me: "Wow.  My first apartment will totally not be this nice."
Her: "Well, it isn't my first apartment; it's my fourth.  Also, it helps if your mother is an interior designer, FYI."

Sacha and Layna came.  They gave me gourmet hot chocolate and homemade apple peel jelly, respectively.  It made me feel bad about the fact that I don't get anyone anything for the holidays.  (Layna on her gift: "It's not a thing.  It's like a card plus.")

I had 2 glasses of red wine and so much food.  People liked the pasta I made, but I was so full by the time main courses were being served that I didn't even have any.  (It occurred to me later that I could make pasta and bring it in to work in microwavable tubbies for lunch.)

There were so many people, in assorted clumps since Nicole invited people she knew from all different places and most people brought people of their own.  So there were a number of people I already knew, which was dangerous for my doing the whole "meet new people" thing, though spending time with people I already know and like is good, too.  I chatted not as much as I would have like with Brandon from Oxford (Hertfod College -- the one with the bridge; and originally from Indiana -- akronohten, much?) so I wasn't completely insular.

I was there for about ~2½ hours, though it felt like far less.  The thing I look forward to most about eventually having an apartment in the city is not having to cut out of parties etc. early.

Oh, and Layna is going to the Boston Wine Expo, so I have company for that after all.  *cheers*

On the Red Line home a couple women got on and definitely looked like they weren't sure what they were doing, so I got to be helpful.  Where are you going?  South Station?  Yes, this goes to South Station.  And where are you going now, the Peter Pan bus station?  Up these stairs with me... you recognize where you are now?  Good.

Once upstairs, a woman asked if I had a dollar so she could get on the train 'cause she had lost her wallet.  She apologized like umpteen times.  It's possible she was lying, but a dollar's not gonna break me, and I would hate to be stranded.

As I walked up Track 5 to my train, there was this guy a few tracks over yelling about how nobody cares about people, and I didn't catch most of the details, but dude, the yelling doesn't incline me to give you any money.

I was uncomfortably cold walking to the train this morning, even though it was just as cold as it was yesterday. My cheeks were cold and I considered, for not the first time this season, the merits of investing in a scarf. Given the past 2 days, I expected some sort of Red Line delay thanks to Downtown Crossing. Instead, I waited 40 minutes for my commuter rail. [My mom, the experienced commuter, called frozen switch early on.] I actually put my gloves on after a while, and oh my toes started hurting so bad. I always say I would much rather freeze to death than be burnt to death (eventually you just fall asleep and never wake up, plus it's on the whole far less painful than burning) but my toes were making me seriously reconsider any sort of fond feeling toward freezing to death.

I considered calling trijinx but frozenness is not conducive to taking out and dialing a cell phone. [I did call after I was on the train and thawed. I considered calling my temp agency to tell them I'd be late, but I knew I'd only be about a half an hour late, and I recalled that last time I called in, whomever they sent didn't know where I worked or who I was. I would have called Amanda who sits behind me, but I don't know her number -- since obviously I never call her.] Other people called SmarTravaler (or something) however, so we learnd that the 7:05 was disabled and the 7:30 (my train) was running a half an hour late. [And it's not like we were special. The Providence, Plymouth/Kingston, and others were also running delayed.] There were people waiting since 6:55? Ouch. Someone pointed out that there's supposed to be an 8:00 train as well, so what's up with that?

Anyway, at 8:05 a train showed up -- all single cars. The 7:30 is usually all double-deckers save 2 single cars and it's crowded as is. Somehow everyone in my car actually got a seat, though. (Next stop, of course, lots of people were standing.) Sidenote: I can understand wanting to preserve the space between you and the guy next to you on a 3-seater for as long as possible, but don't you know the trains are running delayed so there are more than one train's worth of people on this train and perhaps you could move in before someone asks you to?

According to the conductor, we were on the 738 from Walpole. [Which apparently is what I would call the 8:00.] Oh, and my train is usually an express, but of course this one had to make all the stops. Made me glad I usually get into work ~20 minutes early, 'cause it gives me a cushion for train delays.

As I walked through South Station, I heard over the PA: "Due to cold weather conditions, both inbound and outbound service are experiencing delays."

Checking the MBTA website when I got in to work ("Transit Updates - Last Updated : 12/14/2005 - 9:38:26 AM")

Franklin Line:
# Inbound Franklin trains #706 (6:35a) & #708 (7:00) have been combined due to an earlier disabled train. As a result, the #706 is running 90 minutes late and the #708 is at least 40 minutes behind schedule.

Understatement much? ( full list )

"Last Updated : 12/14/2005 - 10:48:54 AM" we're down to

Providence/Attleboro Line:

# Inbound train #812 (9:43a) is running 15 - 20 minutes behind schedule due to traffic in Mansfield.

All other Commuter Rail service is on or near schedule.

Though of course, do we really believe that?

Anyway, the day has been fine otherwise, though I'm not optimstic about grabbing my prof in between meetings to get reimbursement info.

Last night I read goovie's touching all the places that are yours, which is the best fic I have read in some time.

And the_red_shoes posted the full text of the "dried leaves boiled in water ... dying for a cup of tea" section from The Restaurant at the End of the Universe (Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series).

[Advent day 14 - Saturday] Luke 2:4-7

⁴So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. ⁵He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. ⁶While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, ⁷and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.

Had a weird/interesting dream about being drafted as a WWE writer.

There was lack of plowed/shoveled sidewalks walking to the library at noon -- and I purposely went via Washington rather than Winslow.  I disapprove.

I'm going to Foxwoods Sun. Jan. 22.  Yeah free booze.

I went to the Ansel Adams exhibit at the MFA.  It was okay.  It was so crowded (and dude, how many tickets do they sell before they consider a time slot sold out?) that you basically had to literally wait in line to see the images -- and sometime it was unclear which direction a line was moving in, which was particularly frustrating.  One of his most famous ones is Moonrise, Hernandez, New Mexico which I hadn't seen before, but it's also one of the larger ones, so I would have liked to move around it a lot but I felt rude doing so since of course a slew of other people were also looking at it at any given time.

I also spent about an hour going through other parts of the museum.  One painting I saw was inspired by a line from Boccaccio's Decameron -- "Bocca bacciata non perde ventura / anzi rinnova come fa la luna." (The MFA's translation went something like "Lips once kissed lose not their freshness. It always returns, like the moon.")

Kate called me randomly, 'cause it had been "eons," "decades," over 2 months since we had last spoken.  And I called Ari.  Yay people.  Though I'm like, "I have nothing to say" when I call people, even though I do wanna talk to them.

For dinner, I got a pinto bean burrito at Qdoba and didn't hate it.  Go me.  And See's Candy was giving out free samples.

Apocalypso!

an offbeat, loving story of the holidays: parties, presents, friends, family, barflies, crippling depression and feelings of inadequacy. Plus the end of the world.

( Read more... )

Queer Soup is doing Home Jan. 14-Feb. 4!  I absolutely must go. Company?

Oh, taking a late train home.  Always interesting company.  Last night's installment featured tiny drunk white girls "jammin' "

Inside the train car there was a poster for a movie (Country Boys? tagline was something about "finding out who they are and who they could become") and the main picture was a view from the back of two boys walking along a railroad track and someone had scrawled "no walking on the tracks" on the poster.  I was happified.

It is in the 60s.  Sitting down in short-sleeves with my window open i have goosebumps.  I love this.  I will put on a sweatshirt, but i will not close the window.  Weather like this?  Reminds me why it is good to be alive.  I want to rhapsodize about the hope this gives me, the looking-forward joy, in complete denial about the dog days of August through which i will surely suffer, but since some of you actually don't like the cold weather, i'll refrain.

---

hedy took me, the Bad English Major ^TM, to see a play her h.s. English teacher did about Longfellow's daughter.

We drove out to Quincy Adams and took the Red Line out to Harvard.  I had my mom's T-Pass -- yay for 'Sundays a guest rides free.'  There were a couple people ahead of us buying tokens, and we were hardly in a hurry, so we just waited in line, and when we got to the front i showed my T-Pass and gestured to Heather.  The woman in the booth emphatically told me that i should never have to wait in line when i had a T-Pass, that i should just walk up to the front side window and show my T-Pass and walk through with my partnter.  I was near dead with laughter before i was even through the turnstile.  And oh so glad that i was with someone to whom i wouldn't have to explain why i was giggling.  Lo we are 12.

We ate lunch at Veggie Planet at Club Passim, which made me think of Bob Franke and then oh the complicated JBCC drama.  Everything has memories attached to it now.  T-stations, streets, etc. conjure up anecdotes, incidents, seasons...

While i waited outside the bathroom for Heather, i skimmed a 20 Question Social Justice quiz on the wall.

Q: "The richest 1% make as much money as the total income of the x% poorest?"
Me, knowing how these questions work: Some huge percentage like 50%.
A: 57%

Q:  "What are [insert about a dozen USA state names which i didn't read thoroughly]?"
Me: South of the Mason-Dixon line?
A: "The total population of these states is the number of US citizens living below the poverty line."
Me: Wow that was a supremely poorly worded question.  And here i was expecting something like, "execute the most (ethnic minority) criminals."

Q #20: "How much does the average American spend on soft drinks every day?"
Me: Some huge number like $5.
A: 60 cents
Me: ... ?  That's like, one soft drink every other day.  Are these 1950s numbers or something, and i'm supposed to be told how much more we spend now?  No, the citation is from 2005.  And there's a MLK quotation following, but i'm guessing that's unrelated.

I am such a Smithie in that i know exactly where social justice questions are going, and such a bad Smithie in my reactions thereto.

For the hell of it, i just Googled, and lo, it is all over the place.  Here is one, if you wanna check it out.

Anyway, the Longfellow play was quite good.  I know almost nothing about or by Longfellow, but this made me actually interested to read some of his poetry.  The character of Longfellow's eldest daughter (for whom Longfellow Hall at Harvard Radcliffe [which she helped found] is named /trivia) talked about her father and about poetry about doing noble things and about writing to her brother during the war and all the while i had pogrebin's Walking Shadow fic bouncing through my head, which added a rather darker element to it all.

Heather is amazing at remembering the names of people in my life and what they're doing.  I know because she asks about them.  I suck at this handy aid to conversation-making and am well-impressed.

The cell phone bill arriving yesterday threw me into a panic about the fact that i have little money and no income.  I'll spare you the lengthy babble version of said panic.

This is my life.

---

meme from ahlksey

1) Go to my User Info page.
2) Pick one person on my friends list you're curious about.
3) Comment with their username.
4) I will tell you a bit about them.
5) Now post this in your journal, see who is curious about whom.

The short version: Went home to the Boston area, slept a lot, saw lots of people, enjoyed myself, did almost no work though i did very well on the GRE. Returned to Smith and have continued to do almost no work.

The long version: ( Read more... )

And one of these days i'll stop sucking at it.

I'm not the type of person who sits down and cries, but if i were, i would have done so a number of times on Friday.

The short version is: There is something wrong with the fact that i left Oxford around 7am and arrived at Canterbury Cathedral around 5pm.

( click here for the long version )

I slept well, managed a morning shower, got free toast for breakfast, and wrote a lot (something i hadn't done yet that particular travel excursion) waiting for the shuttle, which got stuck in some insane traffic (I asked around 8:20; it was expected at 9; it arrived around 11.) and the nice Millennium Lodge guy was really nice and embarrassed/apologetic. Maybe i got it all out of my system yesterday, but i was very blasé about the whole thing, and everything ended up working out fine.

I saw some of the changing of the guard. And honestly, it's pretty boring. Is it cooler if you see the beginning? because i came in around the middle, watched for about 5 minutes, and then moved on.

Boston can get away with bad streets and few signs because it's relatively small, but London reminds me of NYC only no grid and few signs (endemic of all England). It's funny; sometimes there are street signs on nearly every corner, and there are lots of those black arrows to places of interest, and other times it's very fend for yourself territory. I managed to find both Sir John Soane's House Museum and the Tate without too much trouble, though, and i've definitely gotten the hang of the Underground. I was underwhelmed by both and am glad to be back "home." [The first room i walked into was the Making British History room, and that was the best. Waterhouse's Lady of Shallot. Sargent's Lady Macbeth. Sargent's Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose (which i could have sworn the MFA had) was somewhere else, but that was also a highlight. There was some really great stuff in some of the other rooms, but generally, like i said, underwhelmed. The title of the Wolfgang Tillmans exhibit -- If One Thing Matters, Everything Matters -- makes me want to check it out, but every time i view modern art i am reminded that i much prefer the "classic" painters (Monet, Sargent, etc.). And £4?]

I've taken a good amount of pictures and will probably take more, but it was occurring to me that i took almost no pictures in London and why that is. People take pictures as remembrances of where they've been as well as to tell the story of their travels. The classic pictures can be found in any book and say nothing about my trip. What's important to me and unique to my trip is the stories. That's why every time i start thinking about the scrapbook i want to do it's full of text and not so many pictures.