The T, The T

Here is a picture of our most chosen mode of transportation. . . These little trains squeal around the corner to pick us up almost every time we go out and I've become quite fond of them. One day last week, their were some Ts that were out of service on the D line that I take to work and so I had to wait with many anxious commuters quite awhile for one to come through the tunnel. Well, when one finally did, I wasn't quite aggressive enough about getting on and by the time I made my way to the stairs it was pretty full. I didn't want to keep waiting though, so I tried to squeeze myself in, thinking 'there's always room for one more, right?'. . . evidently not, because everyone on the train actually groaned "NOOOOOOO" as they saw me easing my way in. I think I remember seeing an example like that in my abnormal psychology book in college. It had a caption that said something like, "people experiencing extreme paranoia may feel that no one wants to be around them."

Then yesterday, I went to do homework at a library about 3 miles away. On the way home, I just missed the T that I wanted to catch, and again, I didn't feel like waiting, so I decided that I could run along with the train and meet it at its next stop. So, laptop bag and groceries flapping in the breeze, I went, only to, of course not be able to catch up with the locomotive at its next spot--what was I thinking? Anyways, I was still thinking that, because the Ts have to stop at traffic lights, I had a chance of catching it down the line... I probably don't need to tell you that I never caught up with it, that I walked/ran all the freezing way home, and that I actually missed two other Ts that passed me, headed in my direction. I think next time I will just wait the eight minutes for the next one.

A sweet T story to end the post on: Last week I was in the T during the morning rush hour, when the T cars are so full you kind of have to give up any ideals you had for personal space, and two mothers with three almost-toddlers came on. They were really having a hard time with all the babies gear and keeping the kiddies with them in the crowd. The T driver turned off the train and came marching back to the car where I was standing along with the mothers, almost-toddlers, and a sea of business people. I was worried that he was going to have the moms and babies get off because there are these new controversial laws that might go into effect that prohibit strollers during rush hour. Instead, though, this huge man started pleading with everyone that had seats to give them up for the kids and their moms. "Can we PLEASE get some seats back here? We've got some REAL little kids on board?" And all of a sudden, everyone, absolutely everyone got up to give the moms/babies their seat, leaving the moms/babies with quite a choice, because now all of the seats were empty. The moms let the little kids pick which seats they wanted and they sat down and everyone else remained standing up, almost in reverance for the "REAL little kids" that the T driver had made them aware of. That was my stop, and it really was sweet, as I walked away, to look back and see, through the windows, the little kids bouncing around in their open seats.

Ode to this Saturday Morning. . .

And its soft sheets and new pajamas and clear, bright sun on glossy wood floors. To its two hot cups of almond coffee and its hours stretching ahead.


Here is Sumanth working on his story, and my spot where I am reading articles about young adult literature. Below is my stack of fun books that I need to read for class; read some of the titles and try not to feel jealous that this is my homework;)



Although with the wind chill, our local temp is 19 degrees, I'm so grateful for blue skies and snow-free streets. Today is an easy Saturday; we're trading in some books at the used book store and making buffalo chicken wraps and lounging around in pajamas.

Postmen Throwing Their Parcels into the Nearest Bushes

My dear, sweet boss really stood up for me today in a time when I was needing standing up for. About a month ago, we applied for two grants(with deadlines), both of which are very important to the continuity of the entire project. I was really careful about addressing and mailing them but then I started to be busy with other things and never checked to confirm their receipt. Well, we found out today, that, although we didn't
get anything back in return mail, the applications were never received. The office was all abuzz with how this could have happened, and you have to admit, it didn't look good for me. My boss, Helen, responded quickly: "Has anybody heard about the postmen who throw their parcels into the nearest bush when they're fired? Yes, its true, and sometimes they throw them into rivers and oceans. We should be glad that our papers are probably dry somewhere. They could be at the bottom of the sea." When no one had heard of those stories she said, "Oh, the poor souls who work at the college mail center; they can be so slow-witted." I hope I can be that kind of boss someday.

Still Jet Lagging. . .

That's the Taj Mahal in the background!

I used to think that jet lag was a term people just threw around. . . an excuse for being tired when really they just should have slept more. Well, I've come to understand the full meaning of the word this week as every day at work feels like I've just come from a slumber party. I pretty much have to pry my eyelids open to stay awake after dinner and then around 1:00am (noon, India time) I wake up, bright-eyed and ready to get the day started. The bright eyes don't last very long.

Anyways, it's been nice to see some sunrises and think back over a really good trip and also be very glad to be home. . . Here is a link to a ton of trip pictures if you're interested and have some free time on your hands.

Off to India!

Yikes. . . we are running out into the blizzard in three minutes to catch our flight to London where we'll connect to India. . . I'd assured myself that I would have plenty of time this morning for a long, lesiurely post, followed by long, lesiurely coffee. . . you get the idea. . . Anyways, that is not the scene. . . I'll have plenty of pics to post when we come back March 2nd, though:)

Early Birthday

This here is my beautiful new coffee maker(from Sumanth); the color is called intrigue blue. It makes the most wonderful steamy/hissing noises to let me know that it is doing its very best which isn't hard to do with these kona beans that are also an early birthday gift, and a grinder which I've never had before, which isn't shown. I think that my excitement about the grinder is hindering the coffee process, though, because I grind the beans until they're about the consistency of confectioners sugar.

This is a quick one since I'm off to my poetry class, which so far is the very best thing about moving to Boston. The teacher is my new hero and she is as interested and excited in poetry for children as anyone could be about anything. It's a good thing that I love it, because it is Saturday morning.

Paperwhites

These paperwhites grew from bulbs given as a Christmas gift and they are really brightening up our snowy, kitchen window and are one of my favorite things to look at when I come home.

When we were at the aquarium last week I heard a mother talking to her 18 month old son who was busy massaging yogurt into his cheeks. 'Timothy, after we leave the aquarium we are going to the North End. The North End is a lovely neighborhood with many Italian bakeries.' While I'm not sure that Timothy was excited about the bakeries I sure was and so Friday we took the train down there to find one of my new favorite parts of the city. One of the best places was this small public library with a square fountain in the center that had been shut off leaving the water still so that I could see all the pennies and nickels at the bottom. So many wishes in the bottom of such a quiet fountain in the middle of such a quiet library in the middle of a neighborhood full of italian pastries. How could one not love the North End?

Breakfast?

Here are the snowy trees outside of our bedroom window.


Yesterday morning I was walking to work and cramming a strawberry cashew granola bar in my mouth when I crossed paths with a police officer dressed in a thermal police uniform. He looked down at my granola wrapper and said, "Breakfast?" and in that small moment I stopped feeling like a visitor of Boston. Instead of a person needing directions or help I was just another person eating breakfast on the run. At long last!

I think the other part of not feeling like a visitor anymore has to do with my new galoshes. When we moved here, and I noticed that all the other girls had waterproof boots to tuck their pants into I decided pretty quickly that I didn't really like the idea of scrunching my pants into rubbery shoes. Well, that all came to an abrupt change with the snowstorm that swept into the area on Monday morning. I woke up at 6am excited to greet the snow with a cup of hot chocolate sitting in front of the window. I'll skip the part about being on the other side of the the window in my cloth sneakers as well as the frostbite part and tell you that my new galoshes are shiny and navy blue and have saved my life with every step the past couple of days.

My new job is really nice and quiet. My boss graduated from college 1n 1944 and makes sure that I have a dessert with lunch every day. And, from the windows in my department, I can see the library, the building where my classes will be when they start next week, and the spot where I was inhaling the strawberry bar.

Settled In

. . .

The picture of me by the fridge is to give you an idea of the scale of the apartment. We are definitely grocery shopping in frequent, tiny batches!

I don't know when I've ever fallen in love with a city so quickly. I really adore the green line trains that pick us up and take us all over and the 1/4 size grocery carts at our Trader Joe's and Pino's Pizza down the street and the chocolatier where we went to celebrate my new job (I start Tuesday) and the sound that our radiator makes when the steam comes (umm, I particularly love that sound because it doesn't come quite often enough,) and how the lobby smells like whatever the lady in Apt. #1 is cooking (usually something fruity smelling like blueberry pancakes but sometimes hamburgers which is kind of gross for an apartment building) and how the black and white tiled shower in our apartment feels like my own little slice of the city when I take a steamy shower after being so so cold outside and I can look out of the window and see hundreds of other apartment lights. . . I've also learned a lot pretty quickly, like how, although some things are much easier in the city, Target runs are not one of them. We went last night to get some ice cube trays; three hours and three forms of public transportation later I was craving my own little slice of the city for sure. And I've learned about the extreme importance of washing my hands and or gloves after riding the T. Unless anyone is really curious, I won't go into big details on that one. . .

The move has aged me. . .

Here is me on the plane yesterday-anticipating our new life while listening to my new ipod.

And here is me, a tad overwhelmed by all of the boxes and wires that need connecting after being in our apartment for 12 hours. Can you see the bags under my eyes?!