Most Recently During My Time Here

Today we watched Obama's Inauguration in the kitchen at work. We were all quiet. We were all happy about it. And then we went back to work. It doesn't feel real yet. The other guy is really out of office. How weird it must be for him. How unreal it must be for Obama. I am guessing by this hour he is pretty tired and looking forward to getting some sleep. Tomorrow begins another busy day.

This past weekend I went to visit my Grandma. She lives 2 hours north of Boston by bus. I took a bus that takes you to her town, then further up to Hanover and then Lebanon. I got on the bus with 4 other people early Saturday morning. It was below zero Fahrenheit outside. The bus drops you off at a Park and Ride station off the highway. My Aunt Angela was supposed to pick me up, but she wasn't there yet when I arrived. The bus driver was so nice. He said he would wait until she got there, because he didn't want me to be standing outside in the cold. But she arrived almost as soon as he said that. That was so kind of him though!

My grandma is 94 years old. But she is lucid and still lives by herself. There are quite a few things she can't do for herself anymore, but most things she can. She even drives, though I think it's time for that to stop. She has to get her license renewed in April; we'll see how that goes.

Angela was there for the long holiday weekend and I was only there for the night. I had to work on the holiday.

That Saturday at my grandma's was absolutely freezing out so we stayed inside. The next day however, we woke up to at least 6 inches of snow, and still snowing. Angela and I shoveled some. Ah shoveling! I have done it a few times since I have been here. Good exercise. But questionable fun. I suppose I don't mind really. I don't have to do it ever in the rest of my life.

Well, we had many cups of tea and chats about this and that and then I got back on the bus. It was a slow snowy journey back to Boston, as the highways had not really been cleared of snow - it was more that the cars pushed it aside to form tire lanes. The bus back had more passengers than coming up, but I still got my own seat. This bus gave out free water and pretzels and played a movie. On the way up it was Mama Mia (I have seen this movies 3 times now - that is enough). On the way down was Roman Holiday. That is a great film! I watched it but without sound. Mostly I looked out the window, my favorite pastime on the bus. It was stunning outside. Everything was coated in snow, soft and intimate looking.

Here in Boston I am in the familiar role of work fiend. The hours have been long, and there are a couple of guys that I have discovered I would prefer not to have to sit near. Next week I will trade seats with someone though, so hopefully that will help things.

I am staying not far from Coolidge Corner, which is a pretty sweet little area to live near. There are shops and restaurants and a bookshop that is open until 11. I have a terrible sense of direction however, so finding my way back to the house has been a challenge. Last night one of the compositors that was living here moved out, and he asked me to help him bring some stuff to his apartment. We walked, though it was perhaps a little too far to walk considering what we were carrying. It was pretty late for me too. When we got to his place it was almost 11:30, so I promptly turned around and headed back. But of course in trying to retrace my steps, I got lost.

I sometimes have a dream in which it is the middle of the night and I am all alone in a city that is strange yet familiar, and I have to wander deserted streets to get home. It is a scary dream, one that sometimes wakes me up. And last night I realized that I was actually living that dream, and it panicked me a little, which made my sense of direction even worse. I finally got my wits about me though, and made it home.

Tonight I went back to Coolidge Corner and walked home, trying to see if I could find my way this time. I did pretty easily, which was good, because it was getting increasingly cold, and I had to pee.

I passed by these two little trees that still had their leaves. The leaves were brown and shriveled, but firmly attached to the trees, and the wind rattled them, making them sound like percussion instruments. It seemed like these sturdy leaves blowing in the cold should have provided some sort of metaphor for what I have been experiencing in my life, but they didn't. I guess I just liked them.