Bon voyage... or my trip, thus far
Although it may seem that I have fallen off the edge of the planet, I have merely been traveling and, incidentally, disengaged from my computational duties. (In fact I am actively trying to break a bad habit, but more on that later... perhaps).
Flying with I. is generally pleasant, and mostly uneventful. Beyond her sacking the jellybean supply while I slept through almost the entire cross-continental journey, she behaved spectacularly, and has been a joyous, if overly energetic companion. Only today, early this morning have the tears begun, as she realizes exactly what it means that I am going away and leaving her behind. Genuine pain, as her face crumples up and hot tears spring from her eyes. God I am going to miss her hot little hands in mine, her breath in my face. I feel guilty each time I unlace her from the eternal embrace to which I am subject. I miss her already, and she still lies sleeping next to me.
We have done the rounds. I finally got to the DeCordova Museum with my aunt Shelley on the first day here. Then on to see Laura and Andy at their new place. I had forgotten how damp and tropical summers are here on the east coast, I had forgotten about mosquitos at dusk. Gentle reminders abound. Every meal was fabulous, Indian at the India Café on Brattle, Vietnamese, Marrocan. We visited the swan boats (per I.'s vigorous request) with my high school physics teacher-turned-friend, Mike (he had never been, despite living in Boston for the last 10 years), ate at a real honest-to-goodness deli.
It seems so strange to be a tourist in a place that was once your own, but I was reminded that perhaps I wouldn't be averse to relocating back to this coast one day...Who knows, I still have so much of California to explore. World Cup mania spilled out onto the streets, and I. groaned at me as I tugged her arm towards the open windows of the local pub. Yes, we watched Argentina squash Mexico in the first minutes of overtime... she cried for Mexico, even though she had no idea what was going on. I wonder if there will be football on the flight this evening? British Airways to Portugal? Both teams are playing, in the next few days... it is with not a little excitement that I envision myself in some local bar watching the final match. Last time I watched a World Cup final while traveling (or at all for that matter, I think) was at a Brazilian Bar in New York City, the year that France won, strangely enough, in France.
Jenny caught up with us the third day, after her unbearably long debriefing session released her from jobly duties. I. and I, of course, listened to street music in the square and sipped frozen drinks while finishing book 5 of the Chronicles of Narnia: Voyage of the Dawn Treader. We had just made it to the beginning of the end of the world when Jenny waved wildly at us from across the street. To celebrate the first official night of summer we, of course, grilled. Andy made a lime, ginger, peanut marinade for tuna steaks and I marinated mushrooms and yellow squash in a balsamic, soy, garlic concoction. I also made a cucumber, tomato (is it really summer without deep red ripe tomatoes? I ask) basil salad with garlic, olive oil, and red wine vinager, and Laura supplied a light coconut rice. Meanwhile Jenny added her chopping and child entertaining skills to the mix while I. gorged herself on artichoke. A good time was had by all.
After sufficiently lauding both ourselves for being participants and I. for being the active agent upon losing her very first tooth, (I was so bummed that I would miss that milestone, and there it was...) we window shopped through the myriad shops of second-hand clothing, antiques and curios, and only actually bought (big surprise) books and stationery. I. was a good sport, after all, nothing was bought for her, but many, many flavors of ice cream over the course of the days. Before heading back, Laura met us for lunch, and we weathered quite a violent thunderstorm and summer downpour together at Herrell's ice cream. Suffering terribly, of course. In the evening, we took I. to the Loeb experimental theater to see a decidedly non-experimental show (though staging was indeed minimalist): You're a Good Man Charlie Brown, but she had fun, and knew almost all the songs. She was still dancing like a dervish, late into the night, with nary a complaint. I was the one who was dragging, being neither on East Coast nor West Coast time, I have been sleeping about 4 hours a night, all provoked because I decided to finally have my advisor over for dinner and subsequently stayed up the entire night before leaving to scrub down my kitchen, and put the finishing touches on my house prior to the arrival of the sublettors. Someone is home at my house as we speak, but it isn't me. Sleeping all day and arriving in the evening which was really the afternoon has thrown me all out of whack, not to mention the fact that morning comes extremely early here. But I shan't complain because the worst of jet lag is still to come, and I don't even know where I am going to spend my first night in Europe. Ah yes.
Upon thoughtful reconsideration, I did in fact buy myself a guidebook, seing as how I am leaving the computer (my ultimate and often only source of information) behind, I thought it wise to have some sort of orientation material, maps, names of trainstations and price guides handy. I suppose I'll have to read some of it on the flight, or then again, maybe not. As it turns out, I have several friends that actually live in, and will be in Portugal, so I may in fact get to travel a bit more than I expected, but that will be a story for another day. Saturday we had planned on the beach, the Atlantic enticingly frigid as ever beckoned, but the gods of weather would not have it be so, and instead we brunched at the fabulous High Rise bakery, and went back to the square to see A Prairie Home Companion. I. laughed throughout but petulantly claimed that she was only pretending to like it. We know better.
Finally back at my aunt and uncle's house, I got to see my cousin Sam, and meet another, previously unknown second cousin Rhea. Lovely time, we sat around the kitchen table drinking tea and singing songs from musical theater that we all grew up with for I. and alternately listening to her. I couldn't sleep, didn't sleep well, awoke early and fiddled with my computer (see?)
But, here are the results, at least, of the first leg of my journey. I hope to update on occasion, but may be MIA for a while. Who knows. In any case, friends, Romans, countreymen... er... lend me your eyes...
Boston 2006
Flying with I. is generally pleasant, and mostly uneventful. Beyond her sacking the jellybean supply while I slept through almost the entire cross-continental journey, she behaved spectacularly, and has been a joyous, if overly energetic companion. Only today, early this morning have the tears begun, as she realizes exactly what it means that I am going away and leaving her behind. Genuine pain, as her face crumples up and hot tears spring from her eyes. God I am going to miss her hot little hands in mine, her breath in my face. I feel guilty each time I unlace her from the eternal embrace to which I am subject. I miss her already, and she still lies sleeping next to me.
We have done the rounds. I finally got to the DeCordova Museum with my aunt Shelley on the first day here. Then on to see Laura and Andy at their new place. I had forgotten how damp and tropical summers are here on the east coast, I had forgotten about mosquitos at dusk. Gentle reminders abound. Every meal was fabulous, Indian at the India Café on Brattle, Vietnamese, Marrocan. We visited the swan boats (per I.'s vigorous request) with my high school physics teacher-turned-friend, Mike (he had never been, despite living in Boston for the last 10 years), ate at a real honest-to-goodness deli.
It seems so strange to be a tourist in a place that was once your own, but I was reminded that perhaps I wouldn't be averse to relocating back to this coast one day...Who knows, I still have so much of California to explore. World Cup mania spilled out onto the streets, and I. groaned at me as I tugged her arm towards the open windows of the local pub. Yes, we watched Argentina squash Mexico in the first minutes of overtime... she cried for Mexico, even though she had no idea what was going on. I wonder if there will be football on the flight this evening? British Airways to Portugal? Both teams are playing, in the next few days... it is with not a little excitement that I envision myself in some local bar watching the final match. Last time I watched a World Cup final while traveling (or at all for that matter, I think) was at a Brazilian Bar in New York City, the year that France won, strangely enough, in France.
Jenny caught up with us the third day, after her unbearably long debriefing session released her from jobly duties. I. and I, of course, listened to street music in the square and sipped frozen drinks while finishing book 5 of the Chronicles of Narnia: Voyage of the Dawn Treader. We had just made it to the beginning of the end of the world when Jenny waved wildly at us from across the street. To celebrate the first official night of summer we, of course, grilled. Andy made a lime, ginger, peanut marinade for tuna steaks and I marinated mushrooms and yellow squash in a balsamic, soy, garlic concoction. I also made a cucumber, tomato (is it really summer without deep red ripe tomatoes? I ask) basil salad with garlic, olive oil, and red wine vinager, and Laura supplied a light coconut rice. Meanwhile Jenny added her chopping and child entertaining skills to the mix while I. gorged herself on artichoke. A good time was had by all.
After sufficiently lauding both ourselves for being participants and I. for being the active agent upon losing her very first tooth, (I was so bummed that I would miss that milestone, and there it was...) we window shopped through the myriad shops of second-hand clothing, antiques and curios, and only actually bought (big surprise) books and stationery. I. was a good sport, after all, nothing was bought for her, but many, many flavors of ice cream over the course of the days. Before heading back, Laura met us for lunch, and we weathered quite a violent thunderstorm and summer downpour together at Herrell's ice cream. Suffering terribly, of course. In the evening, we took I. to the Loeb experimental theater to see a decidedly non-experimental show (though staging was indeed minimalist): You're a Good Man Charlie Brown, but she had fun, and knew almost all the songs. She was still dancing like a dervish, late into the night, with nary a complaint. I was the one who was dragging, being neither on East Coast nor West Coast time, I have been sleeping about 4 hours a night, all provoked because I decided to finally have my advisor over for dinner and subsequently stayed up the entire night before leaving to scrub down my kitchen, and put the finishing touches on my house prior to the arrival of the sublettors. Someone is home at my house as we speak, but it isn't me. Sleeping all day and arriving in the evening which was really the afternoon has thrown me all out of whack, not to mention the fact that morning comes extremely early here. But I shan't complain because the worst of jet lag is still to come, and I don't even know where I am going to spend my first night in Europe. Ah yes.
Upon thoughtful reconsideration, I did in fact buy myself a guidebook, seing as how I am leaving the computer (my ultimate and often only source of information) behind, I thought it wise to have some sort of orientation material, maps, names of trainstations and price guides handy. I suppose I'll have to read some of it on the flight, or then again, maybe not. As it turns out, I have several friends that actually live in, and will be in Portugal, so I may in fact get to travel a bit more than I expected, but that will be a story for another day. Saturday we had planned on the beach, the Atlantic enticingly frigid as ever beckoned, but the gods of weather would not have it be so, and instead we brunched at the fabulous High Rise bakery, and went back to the square to see A Prairie Home Companion. I. laughed throughout but petulantly claimed that she was only pretending to like it. We know better.
Finally back at my aunt and uncle's house, I got to see my cousin Sam, and meet another, previously unknown second cousin Rhea. Lovely time, we sat around the kitchen table drinking tea and singing songs from musical theater that we all grew up with for I. and alternately listening to her. I couldn't sleep, didn't sleep well, awoke early and fiddled with my computer (see?)
But, here are the results, at least, of the first leg of my journey. I hope to update on occasion, but may be MIA for a while. Who knows. In any case, friends, Romans, countreymen... er... lend me your eyes...
Boston 2006
posted by ilana at 5:00 a.m.
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