Curse of the Red Sox

I hadn’t done anything like this since freshman year of college. I was doing laundry, a fairly normal occurrence due to the fact I only own six scrub sets. I must not have been thinking, I threw all my sox and underwear into one washer. Including the new red sox I got for Christmas. When I came back to the laundry matt I discovered all my sox and undershirts were no longer the sparkling white they had once been but were now a dim shade of pink.

A New Era of Blogging

For Christmas Steve got me a sweet sweet digital camera. So from now on there will be more photos on this blog.


expect to see more random pictures

I will no longer have to use pictures other people took. Instead I can take picture until my hearts content and put them here. Enjoy my non-foot pictures that will soon that will soon occupy this space.

After a Break

I haven't posted for awhile and with good reason. I've been in Minnesota over the Holiday weekend. MGH gave me a breif time off for me to return to the land of my birth. It was great to see all my friends and although I didn't get a chance to see everyone I wanted to see I still had a good time.

Shana and I spent sometime in front of the fire.

Even if I didn't get to spend time in front of a fire with all my loved ones I still wish everyone a Happy Holidays and good luck in the New Year.

Filled With Love

If you have read my blog with in an hour of the last three posts you might have noticed that all three were named “I Love…” I love Christmas, I love my ipod, and I love the man with the accordion. I’ve had to edit posts after I re-read them a few times.

It maybe just festive season but I’m bursting with love right now.

The Man with the Accordion

T stops are a place where most of Boston goes to be transported from one place to another. For some though, it is a place to make money and show off their talents. They become regulars in the T stop, the guy who sings French songs, the woman who sings the same Joni Mitchell song over and over again, the guy who can barely produce enough air to play half a song on the recorder, and my new favorite, the man with the accordion.

He has been in the Porter Square stops a few times playing a jolly song in front of the large escalators. Lately he has been playing in Davis when I am going to work. He’s there with his accordion playing Christmas songs and he is great. I usually sit behind him and watch his arms disappear and reappear behind the sign he sits by as he plays “Jingle Bells” or “Deck the Halls.”

He’s the only performer who I turn off my ipod for. I usually smile at him as I put a dollar into his open accordion case.

The Glory of an ipod

As a gift to myself I recently bought an ipod. I was going to wait and ask for one for Christmas, but realized I would not be willing to ask anyone to spend that much money on me. So I bought one myself and it is great.

When I had a car I loved driving and listening to the radio. Driving to Madison and back to Minneapolis wasn’t so bad as long as I had something to listen to weather it be public radio or top 20 hits. Now I have no car and all my commutes involve me walking at least five blocks to the T. Adding music to my journey has made it much more enjoyable.

As soon as my ipod was up and running I quickly downloaded every CD I own and any books on CD I had. Soon sitting on the T on the way to work became more enjoyable. Now I could close my eyes and picture myself at home listening to David Sedaris talk about his family. The crazy guy down the street was now singing along with Bob Dylan instead of yelling at me.

The music is back in my life.

I Love Christmas

I have always loved Christmas. I love hearing people ringing bells outside of stores, I love watching Christmas specials on TV, and most of all I love decorating my house.

My parent’s house around Christmas time became full with garlands, pictures of Santa, random Dutch-Christmas artifacts, and of course a large Christmas tree. The tree would be so filled with ornaments that “had” to be there that there was hardly a single branch that did not have some sort of decoration on it. These decorations say stuff like “baby’s first Christmas 1983” or are a certain ornament that my sister and I use to play with all the time when we were kids.

This year I am only going to be home for 5 days around Christmas and our family has had to adapt. My family has decorated with out me and will buy the tree with out me. It’s ok that they do this, life goes on. So with the help of my roommate Adrianne I have decked the halls of our apartment (see right). We are enjoying our own Christmas by having friends over and stuffing presents for our boyfriends under the tree. I have quiet the festive apartment and we still have more decorations to put up.

Who Will Help the Homeless?

I sat in the Davis Square T stop waiting for the T on Saturday morning sipping my coffee and trying to make myself feel a bit more awake before I got to work. A train pulled in going to opposite way, a man got off an started walking towards me.

“Excuse me miss?” I looked up, he was holding a copy of Spare Change “I sell a copies a News Paper that helps the homeless, could you spare some money?”

“No.” I said as my mind wondered to my wallet that was filled with money I had just got at the ATM, as my mind tends to do every time I get asked for money. I looked down feeling a bit ashamed. He moved on to the man next to me.

“Excuse me sir but I sell a New Paper to help the homeless, could you spare some change?”

The man looked him in the eye, “I’m homeless,” he replied. Adding on “Can I bum a cigarette?”

In the Realm of the Unreal

In 1970 a janitor in Chicago by the name of Henry Darger died. As his neighbors cleaned out his house they found a 15,000 page novel detailing a fictional tale of seven sisters living in a world where children are slaves. The storey tells of these sisters rising up against their evil masters and the war that ensues. Hundreds of illustrations were also found that corresponded with this story (see right). Darger taught himself to draw by tracing add pictures and using similar faces, poses, and scenes over and over again. The movie “In the Realm of the Unreal” details the life of Darger. I highly recommend this movie if you are interested in his art or a different style of art.

The fact that stuck out to me is that Darger died in 1970 and there are only 3 photos of what this man looked like. It seems amazing to me that as recently as 1970 someone could go through life hardly ever having a picture taken of them self. I think of the hundreds of pictures there are of me, chronicling my life. Pictures of first days of school, family vacations, and holidays are stored away in at home. I’ve had more then three pictures taken of me this last year. I find it sad that this man lived for so long with only three pictures of him self ever.

Only 21 Shopping Days Left!

When I didn’t have a boyfriend I would walk around in stores and look at all the “Men’s” clothing and think “I wish I had a boyfriend who I could buy nice sweaters and shirts for.” Now that I have a boyfriend I stare at same sweaters and think “Ha! Steve would never wear that.”

I think what I was longing for was a dress up doll. I’m currently at a loss as for what to get Steve for Christmas. It seems it should be something really nice (i.e. expensive). But what this nice thing is I’m not so sure. Clothing and electronics seem to seem a little too informal and personal items are just that, personal. How do I know if he’s read a certain book or enjoy a new watch?

My answer is to go out and wonder the shops until something hits me as being “Steve.”

Cats

I’ve always considered myself a dog person, mostly because I’m allergic to cats, but also because they have always seemed more friendly then cats. I always felt that cats were too aloof and standoffish. I like being greeted by my pets when I come home from work. Lately though, the cats I’ve met have started to change me.

It started with Sassy, Paul and Beth’s cat. She always comes up to me and brushes up against my leg. She purrs as I pet her. I cat-sat for her last week and when I would come in she would get so excited she would start to drool. Lionel (as seen in other posts) is Steve’s sister’s cat and he was just too adorable for me to put down. “Aww” I would coo, “look at how he likes to sit in my lap and play with my hair!” We have other cats that wonder our neighborhood that always come up to my doorstep and watch me as I fumble with the keys and offer a “meow” as help.

Tonight I told Steve I wish I could get a cat. He looked at me like I was crazy. “Your allergic to cats, remember how your hand got all red and swollen when Lionel scratched you?”
Even still I wish I could have a kitty. I would even risk swollen throats.