Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair

Even though the book ends with the song of despair, I don't want to end on that note so I suppose I'll start with my "song of despair," if you'll allow me.

Friday, June 18th, my favorite person on earth departed the earth. My grandfather, "Grumpa" as I called him, had a stroke about 3 1/2 years ago and has slowly been deteriorating ever since. It is one of the greatest sources of sadness in my life that I didn't get to see him one last time before he had the stroke (I was in Korea when it happened), but I do take some solace in the fact that every time I visited him after the stroke he knew who I was, even if he didn't know anyone else. He and I understood each other and, well, he might have been the love of my life. I know he's up in heaven now picking out a husband for me and sending him my way, but that's little consolation for not having him around anymore. I know that my sadness comes from a selfish place--I'm sad that he won't be a part of my life anymore--but at the same time, he will always be with me so I should be happy. I always carried him with me before, even when he was here. I suppose I need to just continue to do that.

I know I'll see him again, which is also comforting, but it's hard when I think about not having him around for Christmas or a weekend visit. Anyway, you can read about my "brave, loyal, and stubborn" hero here.

Grumpa died on a Friday, the day before I was supposed to leave to come to Boston to work for the summer. I called the guy who hired me right away, although maybe I should have waited because I was crying on the phone and I'm sure it was difficult to understand me. He said I could deal with whatever I needed to deal with, and come when I could. I ended up arriving Wednesday around noon after having missed two and a half days of training.

So, this will be my home for the next five weeks, and now begins the twenty love songs.

Shelton Hall on the Charles River Campus of Boston University. It used to be a Sheraton Hotel, apparently, and, according to Wikipedia: "In 1953, playwright Eugene O'Neill died in suite 401 (now the RA's room--417) on the fourth floor. In his honor, the fourth floor was named a specialty housing area called the Writer's Corridor. School folklore holds that the building is haunted by the playwright. Apparently, lights on this floor are dimmer and the elevators would randomly stop at the fourth floor." I haven't been up there as of yet (I'm staying on the second floor) but I will go explore this situation soon.

Everyone I'll be working with seems fun. I was introduced to a big group of them on Wednesday at lunch, when they were playing a crazy game called Quelf. It was certainly an interesting first impression! But everyone has been helpful in helping me catch up on what I missed and we had a staff dinner last night at an Italian place, which was nice. The food was good (I had Pasta Mary Ellen without the shrimp and extra scallops, YUM!) as was the company. Showing up late, although necessary, was a bit awkward but I'm feeling more and more comfortable with everyone as time passes so that's good. I mean, walking to an Italian restaurant in the rain without an umbrella is certainly a bonding experience, I can tell you.

I haven't had much chance to explore the city until today, when I didn't have to be anywhere until 4:00 pm. So I got up, had breakfast, and set out to walk to Boston Common, which, it turns out, is a pretty hefty feat to undertake. I just walked down Commonwealth Street, from number, like, 800 down to, like, 11. The walk was pretty fantastic, though, because a) the doorways here are amazing. So much so that I took pictures of many of them and want to do a photo project with them at some point. And b) between the two sides of the street is a park/median, with benches, trees, grass, and random statues. It's awesome.

Anyway, before you get to Boston Common, you reach the public gardens, which are beautiful. There are several fountains, tons of flowers and trees, and a river with swan boats!


At the entrance there was a giant statue of who I thought was Paul Revere. Turns out, it was actually George Washington...

He was surrounded by lovely flora, namely these hibiscus. :)

There were a few street musicians in the gardens, and the gardens covered quite a large area. I'll have to go back some afternoon for a relaxing spot to read and be in the sun.

Just beyond the gardens is Boston Common, which, come to find out, has like a gazillion dead bodies under it or something. Maybe that's why it smells like yeasty, stale beer. Eewww. To be honest, I wasn't that impressed by it... it was pretty much a vast field of grass with a statue and a carousel. I did find a lovely spot to relax and read, though.

And of course I took a picture of the carousel...

And then I found a band shell, and took a cool photo of the cityscape from inside it.

Meanwhile, we're all ready for the kiddos to show up. I've got my door decorations done, and they're super cute for someone as unartistic as I am. I mean, they have glitter so that's really all that's needed.

The boys are arriving today. Most of them are here on scholarship, so they move in early and then help the girls move their stuff in tomorrow. It's a good gig for the girls, I guess.

Anyway, it's getting exciting here now that kids have begun to show up. It's gonna be a fun summer!

Much love.