Friday.
I met up with friends from church, Ashley and Jerom, to go play soccer at a park near Fenway Stadium. It was a nice turf field complete with the little black balls that get in your shoes. We arrived there late, because I was late again, and the park was full of people. I would say three games of soccer going on with about 20 people playing per game–all pick-up games. There were also those doing softball batting practice and the occasional jogger.
We didn't get on the field immediately due to the amount of people, which was a good thing. I was still getting use to the idea that everyone playing looked like they were from a country where soccer, in this case futbol, was religion. Or even just from a different country. Nervous? Yes. How did we get invited you might ask? Chris, from the Caribbean, is a friend from church that invites the ward members to play with his team. So we went. I was most definitely the only white girl out of both teams. Mexicans, Asians, Africans, Spanish looking men, you name it. Playing in the shadow of the city of Boston, I felt like I finally earned the shirt that Ally gave me for my birthday, I AM so Hood.
The opposing team wore skins and the man on the other team playing on my side the field, looked like an Under Armour athlete. The only click-clacking I'd be doing would be a cry for an electric blanket. I never even owned that book. Get your own electric blankets. Anyways, he was and Under Armour athlete minus the actual Under Armour because they were skins plus sweat. Frightening. But we played, and it was fun. My team was down for most the game. We scored which gave us a second wind and continued to play until we couldn't see anymore because it was so dark.
After the game, me, Ashley and Jerom (Asian), Chris (Caribbean), Ulysses (from west Africa doing research at Harvard) and Neville (grew up in India and speaks 2 languages fluently and 3 other languages sufficiently) went to Chipotle for dinner. The conversation mainly centered around the World Cup and they invited us to watch it with them Saturday. They were fun to hang out with.
We parted from there and Ashley and I went to get ice cream. We didn't even really discuss it. It's like we both knew that it was ice cream time. We walked to J.P. Licks on the famous Newbury Steet and I got Black Raspberry Chip with Brownie. It was delicious. I came home and fell asleep in my clothes.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
There is a Fourth Cat
Friday, June 25, 2010
It was a Moldy Sandwich
On the church side of things. . .
I was also able to go to the temple, which is about ten minutes away. One of the Elders (Andy Ford) at the temple was from Sandy, Utah, went to Hillcrest High School, and played on my very own neighbor Brett Hashimoto's little league baseball team. Geepers. I also met the temple President, who knew Grandma and Grandpa because they lived across the hall from them. He said they were always partying. It use to be a suprise that I could go anywhere and ask if they knew my Grandparents, but that wore off after Fiji.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Monday, June 21, 2010
Untitled
happy father's day
Dad
and
a very happy 30th anniversary to both of you.
diamond, gold, silver, pearl, wood, you're all of it
and i'm grateful for you.
I'm fluent
Saturday, I got up early to meet the YSA to go on a hike. Yes, a real life hike in the mountains of the Blue Hills Reservation. It took us 23 minutes to get to the top of a hill that looked out over Boston. We stopped at the top to rest from the elevation gain, when a man and his red-haired son and daughter arrived. He asked us, "anybody want some coffee?" When we laughed he told us they caught frogs and put them in a coffee cup to surprise their mom with. With or without the frogs, he wasn't going to find any takers. We moved onward for a bit to find a pick nick spot and frogs, and had a nice long lunch there. It was a green and shaded.
We arrived back at the church and the girls sat and chatted on the grass. We heard the full story of how one of the girls met her fiancee, who was in the ward. Then I insisted we go get ice cream, which was delicious, especially because it was a hot day.
Came home, showered, left again.
Into the city again to meet the 7 of the remaining hikers at the movie theater. Walking to the theater, my brothers called to inform me they had just seen Tiger Woods playing in the U.S. Open. I exclaimed, "You just saw Tiger Woods?" and the surrounding pedestrians gawked. I think I'll start exclaiming more things like that in public, true or not. The Karate Kid–loved it. I was pumped after. Jaden Smith. China. Hang your jacket up. Jackie Chan.
After, the crew hopped on the light rail for two stops until we reached the north end. The north end is the Italian district of Boston and we were on the search for Mike's Pastry Shop. Found it and it was packed. Lines out the door and it was 11:30 at night. The whole north end was bustling with people. Restaurants crowded. People sitting outside with large wine glasses. Most of the people looked like characters from a Tomie Depaola book, if you remember those. We each ordered the infamous Cannoli and I got the chocolate mouse filled one. We made our way through the crowd and back to a table in the park to enjoy our cannoli's. Surprisingly, no one said, "holy cannoli," the whole duration of our flight. We enjoyed our holy cannoli's, watched Dustin, the world's 33 best yo-yoer, do his tricks, then headed home.
The subway was crowded and there was a group of loud German girls. I just assumed they too had seen the Karate Kid, but Jessica informed me they were either drunk or high. They weren't as pleasant as the Asian girl that sat across from me doing her whole make-up routine on the way into the city. I took a picture of her on my phone. I'll have to upload that.
I made it to my car just before the trains stopped running.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Boston
There I was. On the T again. I wanted to go into Boston today. That's about all I knew. And then I was getting off the T. And then I got back on the T because it seemed to early. But only for one more stop because the next one seemed right.
I walked around and found the Granary Burying Ground. Here, three signers of the Declaration are buried–Samuel Adams, John Hancock, and Robert Treat Paine. I too would include my middle name if it were Treat as well. Paul Revere, Peter Faneuil, Ben Franklin's parents, and victims of the Boston Massacre are also buried. There was a loud Bostonian man talking about last night's game on the phone. The ref's handed the game to LA, they won't be able to do it next year, and the whole city was dead today because of the loss. Dead? That's not what I found. In fact, I got a rather attractive Aussie to take my picture with all those graves. He took two. It was love at first fright. Speaking of, what do you call a cow after an earthquake? A milkshake. But seriously, that Aussie was hott.
"May the youth of today, when they visit this old house, be inspired with the patriotism of Paul Revere."
I pulled out my handy DK New England tour book my Pompom gave me, to try and plan where to go next. Massachusetts State House–tours ended at 3:30 but I got some pictures of it anyway. It seems rather Russian with the gold dome. There were people camped out on the steps with anti-immigration laws signs. If that makes sense. Either way the signs said things like, "We're all immigrants," and the man across the street asked, "What if you're an Indian?" Smarty. "Latina Power!" as they said.
Next The Boston Common and Public Garden! It's mostly just a really big park. The Common is 48 acres and the Garden, 24. There's a small section of graves for those who died at the Battle of Bunker Hill, statues, a pond and bridge, street performers, and a man that wanted me to give him money because his girlfriend took all of his stuff. I told him to get a new girlfriend. Not really. But he should.
In the gardens I met my next set of friends. Two girls, one from Sweden, the other Austria. They're both here for a language exchange program for 6 weeks. They knew their way around and had just gone on a shopping spree, bags in hand. I offered to take their picture, that's how we got talking, and then they took mine.
I sat on a bench for a bit and used the maps in the book give me direction. By now, I'd given up on looking like a local. I looked like a full on tourist. Book under my arm with my camera in hand–I'll have to get this out of my system before Londyy.
I crossed the street and headed towards what was a black dot on the map. Black dot number 14–Downtown Crossing and the shopping district. There were tents set up for a market there and I browsed up and down it. Then I saw H and M and SALE. I think everyone in the whole city saw the SALE because the place was a zoo. The dressing room was 10 people deep and the check out lines were each 5 people deep. But I got a five dollar scarf, and a hat that'll make me look like I live at Alpine Village, even waited in line for 15 minutes to purchase it.
I walked around the block and thought the time was right to head to Chinatown. It's the third largest Chinatown but it seemed rather mellow compared to bustling New York and San Fran. There were hanging ducks in the windows of one store and I'd planed to eat there. Not at the roasting duck place, but the cleanest and most crowded place I could find. It was named something like, The New Shanghai Restaurant, and it fulfilled my cultural experience need because I left feeling like a dumb American. Sorry, I paid for my meal before I ate it. And no I didn't want take out. I sat by the fish to eat. They did have tasty Bubble Tea, which is like a smoothy with tapioca balls that are chewy floating around the bottom. I met another friend who I asked for a suggestion of what I should order. Number 92 or "that one" as I called it. It was a sweet pork thing and that's what she always suggests. We chatted. She asked if I work out and what I was doing in Boston. She was born in Laos and the dumb feeling again, where's Laos? But she gave me her contact info and I wrote it down on the menu that go snatched away from me after telling the server I didn't want take-out, but I wanted to dine in. The "that one" dish was good and I ate rather quickly.
Then there I was, in America again. Saw a couple more churches, and while stopped on a side street to find my way on the map, a man told me, "you're not from here." I was over that ages ago.
Back on the T and home.
Friday, June 18, 2010
She Get it, Pop it, Lock it, Drop it, that Birthday Cake
Louisa came today. It's her birthday on Tuesday and she has big plans to go to Maine for the weekend. Maybe one reason I like her so much is because she loves birthdays too. As she says, she doesn't look at getting older as a bad thing, but rather, she's lucky to have lived another year. Or maybe I like her because while we were talking, Fire Burnin' came on her Ipod. She's also pleased with Argentina's world cup showing.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
I May or May Not Like the Cat
- The last bus from the Alewife T station to where I live, leaves at 9:30 p.m. . . not 11:00 p.m. As I stood, waiting, a bus pulled up to inform me of the time scheduling, and when I asked him where he was headed, he answered, "The station." So no, the bus wasn't going to take me home scheduled or not scheduled, so I called my people and the mom came and got me. We arrived home at 11:30 and let's face it, they're doing more babysitting than I am. Alas, the extra game of ultimate frisbee after FHE was worth the trouble. Guilty.
- While attending the private school picknick, I came to the conclusion that all the mothers do yoga. They seem to sit very upright in between the time they gently spread the organic sun-dried tomato humus on the bought-local-first rice cakes.
- "The best way to cure a hangover is chocolate milk and clam chowder," said the mom that brought the hard stuff to the picknick that started at 11:30 a.m. How else do you raise 4 children?
- And a four kid family is huge.
- They consciously pronounce "clam chowder," like "clam chouwda." It's not natural for these people.
- I'm getting into Glee.
- Dunking Donates is to Massachusetts as churches are to Utah.
