Two weeks ago I lived in a beautiful South End Boston two bedroom apartment where I enjoyed my own room with a Tempurpedic bed and one beautiful, amazing room mate who spoiled me beyond belief. Two weeks later I am sharing a small room with four boys in a house with about thirty people sharing one kitchen with constantly-wet counters and piles and piles of dishes and five refrigerators. I feel like I'm living in a reality show or something. The joys of life have become primitive. For instance, I just spotted a foam mattress pad sitting in the hallway and I snagged it like a ninja. And now I feel like a king on my top bunk. I get joy from finding space in the refrigerator to put my milk. Or if I can snag a burner on the stove in the morning to make my eggs.
All complaining aside, I feel humbled. I've made my my mattress more comfortable (I was getting bruises on my ribs from the springs) and I've made a home out of a mad house. I'm kinda proud that I've been able to find comfy corners beyond the L-couch where this blog was born. I feel like a gypsy or something. Floating around the world with the ability to exist in any environment with any group of people. The only thing I need to work on is my space cadet-ness. I get super A.D.D. and forget that I didn't wash my cup or pick my shoes up from the kitchen. Or I leave my cheese stick wrapper on the floor. Live and learn I suppose! At least I'm not in a restaurant anymore.
Stay comfy ya'll wherever you may be.
The people in this town actually pick up these flags and carry them across the street to alert traffic of pedestrian movement. And people actually do this! I saw a group of gangster-ish teenagers carrying these little flags across the street. And this old woman as well. People of all ages abide by this weird rule. What tops it all, however, is that in addition to the flags there is also a cross guard. I saw her today in her bright yellow vest waving her bright orange gloves at traffic helping people cross the street with their flags. The only thing I can think is that the people in this town have a serious case of dromophobia. What I have yet to figure out is what to do when all of the flags are on the other side of the street. I hope I never live to see the day!
It's over. My days of formal institutional education are over. I have graduated from college and I am moving on. But graduating from Emerson College was a weird experience. I felt like my college experience was atypical in every way. I didn't take tests or math or write a ton of papers. I didn't have a quad or a campus for that matter. I lived in the dorms for a hot second and then moved into an actual apartment. So having a formal graduation was weird for me. After all of these years of non-college-like things, why have something so traditionally college?
Also, the end of graduation was super awkward because no one really knew when to move their tassel to the other side of their cap. I actually moved mine over right after I walked across the stage, but upon realizing that I was the only one who did that I quickly moved it back over. And then no one knew exactly when to throw their caps in the air so I threw mine at the weirdest moment and had to awkwardly pick it up so the teachers wouldn't step on it.
On the bright side, our speaker was incredible. Richard LaGravenese is my new favorite screenwriter. He was real, he was honest, he knew what we wanted to hear, he was very appropriate for Emerson, he gave amazing advice, and he actually got kinda emotional toward the end. It's just nice to hear someone who is really passionate about their craft. And it's always good to hear someone tell you that you chose the right field. And now I sit here in my shiny new job working next to professionals and he couldn't have been more right and I couldn't feel luckier. I left the most talented people behind only to join a new group of amazingly talented people. LaGravenese said something that struck me. I think it went something like this.
"It's a finishing of the hat. It's all about creating something that wasn't there before. That's why we do this. You all have the right to make your place in the world. Go get 'em."
And so now I move on. For better or for worse. Into the abyss but knowing that no matter where I go or what I do, there will always be a comfy corner waiting for me.
1) The Happy Birthday Song - I am blessed to have always celebrated my birthdays with talented singers so the happy birthday song is always quite melodious with some harmonies thrown in at the end. This year, however, it happened a little differently. The moment it turned midnight I was on the subway with my friends Anthony and Vanessa and they sang the weakest, most out of tune happy birthday ever. The "whoa, yeah, kay" version of the song, if you know what that means. Somehow, though, I preferred that to pretty singing. It's the people that count, I suppose.
Restaurant Etiquette: China vs. America
Every time my parents come to visit Boston, I inevitably end up consuming a lot more Chinese food than I care to. We don't have the best Chinese food back in North Carolina, so their first stop is Chinatown; specifically dim sum and dumplings. It's atrocious, really, because I can afford to eat Chinese food. What they should be doing is taking me to eat in the North End or other places that have food that I can't afford to eat on a regular basis. I give them hell for this.
