Prone to nostalgia

Dave stopped by my school yesterday to drop off his keys on his way out of town. Though he’s all packed up, I will linger through the weekend. My last day of work is Friday, and it has fallen on me to give our keys to the building manager. I can handle it.

You see, we're moving.

He pulled up in front of the school, car filled to the brim. It was hot and heavy outside. He was wearing old clothes that he likely found on the floor of his closet, clothes that I had never even seen all rumpled and dusty. Thus, my boyfriend struck me as slightly unrecognizable and unfamiliar, a wayward college student heading off on his big summer adventure, moving out and moving on.

In fact, Dave is and I am and we are striking out on a new adventure. He starts a program at a school in Michigan next week. He has a plan. I, well, I'm going canoeing for a month, leaving 3 weeks from yesterday. And then I'm working. Somewhere. Doing something. I guess that's a plan too.

I got home from work and opened the door to an almost empty apartment. A jar of olives here, an umbrella there. This is the detritus, the flotsam of our life in Boston. I got that pit in my stomach.

Being prone to nostalgia, I immediately called every one in my phone book to chat about mostly mindless and distracting things all afternoon. I even walked around the neighborhood pond talking incessantly and was glad I had the phone distract me from the poignancy of it all. Dave and I had just played catch there the night before! Right there! And I had grown frustrated and quit early. Why had I done that? We would never play catch here again. The agony!

And then today an unassuming teenager gifted me such a gift, a gift to go down in my personal history of great gifts. The student handed this undeserving librarian a signed copy of The Fault in our Stars by the much loved young adult writer John Green (who, as a matter of fact, hails from Indianapolis!). She also included a lovely message in the front cover. It will stay on my bookshelf for many moons as receiving it has been one of the highlights of my year. The whole thing really made my heart swell. It just might burst if I don't get out of here soon! (By the way, are any of you nerdfighters? More on that some other time.)

Needless to say, I'm ready to go, go, go and leave these emotional fits behind me. I'll play this song as I peel out of town:

More likely, I'll play this song I've been singing the past 2 weeks since my brother and I played it about 18 times when he came to visit:

Ray Bradbury

Ray Bradbury died this week. I don't think I've ever read even one of his books, but just a few days ago I read a short story of his in that science fiction issue of the New Yorker and was surprised Bradbury was still alive.

And then I listened to some of this great program of On Point, the NPR radio show, celebrating the life of the late science fiction icon.

You know what else? That man loved libraries. He championed them and fought their closings. A friend of mine posted this quote of his online:

“Libraries raised me. I don’t believe in colleges and universities. I believe in libraries, because most students don’t have any money. When I graduated from high school, it was during the Depression and we had no money. I couldn’t go to college, so I went to the library three days a week for 10 years."


I take my hat off to you, Mr. Bradbury.

I mean, come on MC. I haven't read Fahrenheit 451? How did I graduate high school? Add it to the summer reading list.

We ate lunch with Kate Winslet...sort of.

My brother came to town. And it was great.

Dave hit the road Friday with pretty much all the furniture in our apartment. He rented a truck and hauled it to his parent's house (about a 5 hour drive away) leaving brother Matt and I in Boston town to entertain ourselves.

And entertain we did! We bounced around from the North End to Concord, MA and some places in between.

And then Saturday evening, we went to the Harvard Bookstore and stared at a lot of books. I enjoy visiting bookstores with my brother Matt because he loves books too and a dialogue ensues about new books or old books or book reviews, etc. It's great. And he ain't no book snob. His purchase was a used copy of There is Treasure Everywhere, a Calvin and Hobbes masterpiece.

*He also left me a copy of the New Yorker he carried on the plane. It's their science fiction issue (awesome). He made me read this short fiction piece by Junot Diaz called "Monstro". See the New Yorker interview of Diaz here. The story was great and spooky and the perfect amount of science fiction. More on that some other time.

Back to the Harvard Bookstore, I picked up My Antonia and the Gulag Archipelago...just a little light summer reading. It got me thinking about my summer reading book list, and it is woefully long. In all likelihood, I'll probably make it through 2 of these tomes, but that's the great thing about summer reading, right? Who cares? I'm not trying for a personal pan pizza here.

Here is my list:

My Antonia by Willa Cather, 1918

 The Gulag Archipelago by Aleksandr Solzhenistyn, 1973 (published in the West)

The Windup Girl by Paolo Bacigalupi, 2009

1Q84 by Haruki Murakami, 2009

Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy, 1873-1877











The majority of this lineup is fiction. I am craving it.

The big highlight of Sunday afternoon was Matt and I dined with Kate Winslet!

And by dined "with" I mean we were eating in the same room. After strolling around Walden pond, we stopped at this little sandwich shoppe (spelled how people in Concord, MA would spell shop). As we sat down at a table by the window, Matt started getting that nervous Matt look about him. And then he just blurted out, "That's Kate Winslet!" Thus ensued lots of nervous laughter and staring and a collective sigh of relief when she finally left. But really, she was about 5 feet away, and she looked as great as you think she would.

And then Matt got her number. Go, Matt!

P.S. Have I mentioned Brother Matt has a blog?

*Thanks for the book covers, BarnesandNoble.com!