the first thing

First Thing

I am stuck in Boston for a week. That's the first thing. Everything that has led up to this change in events is the second (thing). To get by in Boston, I'd like to claim that I'm couch surfing (as in the official-thru-the-website)- it sounds so daring and Bohemian; but truly I am staying in the homes of gracious people I met before arriving- which is actually more comfortable and maybe even a bit safer. And I'm wandering around aimlessly in the most luxurious of vacation modes, guilt, guilt, guilty of not working and still being the U.S.A. But I couldn't go back to Denver because of the stipulations on my ticket. More on that later though.

I like asking directions in this town, eavesdropping too, just so I can hear the accents, male, female, local, foreign. The visual variety is equally stunning! I don't know which the ethnic background lends it, but there is a replicated look here that I particularly enjoy- forehead wrinkled in slight surprise with the eyes soft at their edges and a secret smile pulling at the mouth, the epitome of kindness and curiosity. This will be the next person I ask for directions, even if I know where I'm going.

And I am, admittedly, shocked by everyone's friendliness. I thought of the Northeast as being cutoff and shutoff, inconvenienced by other people. But folks here are making reasons to extend the conversation and they ask a lot of open questions. Or just smile and say "hello" on the street. And stare. Men and women. It's seldom I look up and don't catch somebody's eyes. Some look away immediately. Some just continue on staring. I don't know how to react- occassionally smile and sometimes glance away, pretending I didn't see them. Regardless, I believe I always look a bit bewildered.

I do have a few goals to complete while being here. One is to do some historic walking tours. I'm not that into history..there, I said it. My passion naturally draws me to the present and people's present experiences. It is difficult for me to sit with history because I don't see the windows to empathy, like the ones available in conversation. But I have always wanted to be excited about it and have always wanted to want to know about it. So perhaps now is a great opportunity, to walk among present people and look at historical buildings. Maybe the spirits of those moving past will give shadowy empathy to people who used to move about these streets. Or maybe I'll just feel history as its own thing and not force my ingrained passions onto it. Whatever happens, I am giving it a shot.

And I want to be near water. Ocean, bay, fresh- whatever is available. My soul is thirsty and a little angry with me for being in dry Colorado for so long.

There are other goals too, but they are boring, tying up bureaucratic loose ends and such. Vogon poetry.

Oh, and writing. Every day, sometimes many times in a day, until the narrative of personal dictation starts again in the back of my mind.

I feel rusty and boring right now, but we all have to start somewhere.

Second Thing