Day 137: Cambridgeport

To the left you'll see a photograph that, to me, nearly looks like the corner of an oil painting -- but no, it's the view from the window of the garret (rather large garret) I've been sleeping in for the past few days whilst homeless.  On an adorable street in Cambridgeport.

This morning I woke up at a reasonable hour, thanks to the many (and reasonable) hours of sleep I was able to obtain last night.  There was talk of going to Provincetown for the day (on the Cape), but given the schedule of the ferry, and my reluctance to run around so very much on this particular day, the morning's hours were instead quietly passed drinking coffee and writing.  Later this afternoon I needed to help some of the boys move more things into their new place, so we took a bit of a tour of BCS and their new place culminating in a drive-by ice cream pick-up from Toscanini's.

The evening ended with a viewing of Rumors, which E.'s brother had just finished translating into DVD format.  Rather, it ended with some barbecuing, some singing along to the guitar (visitors' hazard in Medford!), and then the viewing of Rumors.  Lovely Sunday.

Day 136: Cambridge St.

Don't think I mention it very often, but one of the more diverse and interesting roads in the area, it seems to me, is Cambridge St. (in Cambridge -- it definitely goes into other cities as well, and is called Cambridge St. still at least in Boston).  Many of today's activities centered around this street.

First, in the morning I was still on move-the-boys duty (and move-my-stuff-into-their-closet-for-storage, for they were kind enough to let my things live there for a week!).  I met them at the new place, just off of Cambridge, and followed G. back in the Jeep.  After some brunch at the Friendly Toast and some errands, they were left to make crucial decision like who gets what room, and I decided to take the opportunity to take a rest.

Later this evening, I met up with several friends (one who was leaving soon for the UK, and whom I might not see again before I leave the city for good.  We convened at R.F. O'Sullivans, a pub on Cambridge, and had some dinner and drinks.  We toyed around with the idea of heading to D.'s for a guitar/singalong session, but decided in the end to have D. come out and meet us just down the street at Starlite Lounge (a kitschy diner/bar evocative of the 50s).  Which was a better plan in the end, because apparently word got out on the street -- i.e., some of us passed some friends on the way, and we were joined by another set of folks nearly doubling our size.  It was a relaxing night out that ended very early (which was quite fine by me).

Day 116: Keezer's Classic Clothing... and empty desks.

Today started out with a bit of relaxing and then the beginning of a quest for a tux.  I find it amusing that I can buy a long black $10 skirt at TJ Maxx or Marshall's or whatever and it counts as "concert black formal", but men are required to acquire something that is priced in the hundreds of dollars even for a rental to achieve the same bar.  It must be the only place in the system where fashion financially favors women (whoa, lots of alliteration there).  Anyhow, I felt it somewhat my responsibility to assist in the tux-searching process since I had coerced D. into singing in the Mercury Orchestra concert, and somewhat less so to join Calliope, both groups requiring fancy concert-wear.

Thus I stopped by Keezer's (cool name for a used tux store, eh?) by myself this morning and had a lively chat with a gentleman who was working there.  It was a pretty kooky and fun place to go, and I sort of wished I got to wear a tux myself.  It's like men just strap these things on and there's a transformation -- I feel like I have to pinch and pull at myself forever to get real change.  It turns out that buying a used tux at Keezer's is oodles cheaper than renting one, and it also turns out that I didn't really need to do a scope-out because they had oodles of tuxes.  And shirts.  And suits.  And other paraphernalia.  It's an adorable place!

The silliness of the tux store (let's admit it; tuxes are pretty ridiculous) was balanced out by the sadness of cleaning out my MIT office this afternoon.  Decision-making is often a difficult process for me, as I like to always choose the best thing, but it's even worse when the thing you are choosing is what to get rid of.  Some of the books will stay at BCS for whomever wants to use them, a few came with me, a couple sold back to Amazon.com, some gifted to Max (who bought me dinner at MoS in exchange -- see Max's story-telling salt and pepper shakers above, all within the territory of hanging out with developmental cognitive scientists).

Day 80: Leaving the city

Perhaps one of the best parts of living in a city is the opportunity to leave it once in a while (not to mention the joy of coming back to it).  Though today was packed with work and rehearsals and even some live-band action at the end, it definitely had a prepping-to-leave feel.  It started last night, when I started the _real_ packing for moving across the country and continued through today as I finished up frosting a cake to bring to my family reunion this weekend, packing last minute odds and ends to bring so that my mom could take them to her house after (I'll be storing at least half my current junk--i.e. all my personal possessions that I could never part with--at her place at least for a while when I move to CA), loading up my car with all of this crud, and generally running last-minute errands, all before getting to work.  Which I could probably barely focus on.  I also printed out a map with a potential route to California so my mom and I could discuss suggested stops on the way.  I think it's time to start focusing more on this move.  But not to worry!  After this weekend (which I predict will be wild and wonderful, West Virginia-style), there will still be 64 more days in Cambridge.  I think.

Day 66: Rod Dee

Of the times in one's life one is happy to have many close friends, the top time must be moving day. Today, several friends and I helped move H., who was moving just a few blocks away. I swear when he moved in to his current place a few months ago he did *not* have as many boxes.  Very little furniture but something like 30 boxes!  Of course the first three people to arrive to help were me, followed by two other (even thinner?) women, but we muscled through carrying all the stuff down (with the help of an elevator, albeit a flaky one :)).  Thankfully some strapping lads arrived in time for the stuff to be moved *up* (walk-up, no elevator).

The best part of moving for the friends of the move-ee is that typically moving someone induces hunger, and given that we did all of these in a period of about two and half hour, there was plenty of time for some Thai food before the nearly-weekly ritual of live-band karaoke on Thursday nights.  I'd never been to Rod Dee in Porter Square before (mostly because I rarely go to Porter Square), but I am now a convert. I thought Pepper Sky and at least Chilli Duck would have it beat, but not at all.  Whatever their version of the Panang curry-esque dish was... wow.  I also love that the place looks like a total hole in the wall, doesn't even serve alcohol (something rare for me to say), has very little wait service, and is really all about the food.  Must get back to this place in the next three months!