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rsadelleAs you may remember from my travel schedule for 2006, I spent the long weekend in Boston. But first, I spent 22 hours at Chicago's O'Hare airport. I don't recommend it. I told myself that if Tom Hanks could live in an airport for a year, I could do it for one night. This did necessitate my buying another book (I'd finished both of the ones I brought along). Luckily I made it onto the last flight to Boston on Friday night and so didn't have to spend a second night there. Yes, I slept in the airport itself. Yes, it was uncomfortable. No, I did not sleep well. Toothpaste at the airport was $4.99, so I bought an apple instead.
I was calm about it up until I called my mother to let her know I hadn't arrived yet. At that point, I fell apart. Imagine the scene: 6:30 am. An open bank of pay phones in the middle of a gate area. A whole bunch of people hoping to get to Boston. And me, crying, as I tell my mother that I'm trapped there and the airline won't do anything for me because it's a weather delay. I was calm after that, too, but I must have sounded completely freaked out on the phone because my mom talked to the hotel people to make sure they wouldn't charge me for the night I couldn't get there, my dad gave me some money ("I always used to think it was strange when your grandfather [my mom's dad] would just give us money because we didn't have much when I was growing up."), and then my mom paid for my hotel room.
The weekend got better once I arrived. I was able to take a shower, for example.
I spent Saturday afternoon wandering about Boston with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ruby_fruit, which was lovely. We saw but did not go into Grendel's Den and Leo's, which are both Ben Affleck recommendations.
Saturday evening was family dinner, which was cool. I hadn't seen many of the people there in well over a decade, and some of them were young enough that I'd never met them. My mom and her cousins had quite the time trading family stories. Someone needs to turn the stories into a novel. It's quite the American story full of immigrants, murder, and so many people in a small apartment that my mother and her cousin Eddie each slept in a drawer.
Sunday was the bat mitzvah. (Such things are generally held on Saturday, but this Sunday was Rosh Chodesh, which is generally considered a woman's holiday.) Liora did a lovely job, but being in a congregation that advertises that they offer both traditional and egalitarian services (the egalitarian ones being where women are actually allowed to participate) makes me a bit uneasy. The reception was at the MIT Faculty Club, which had fantastic food and needed the music to be turned down. This is the second family life cycle event in a row where the music at the reception has been loud enough to both obscure conversation and be actually physically painful.
On Monday I wandered about Boston some more and then walked all over Newton before I realized that I had no idea where I was and I needed to turn around and go back to the train station where there was a cab company. (I was actually on the right street, but the number I remembered seeing was 600 and not, as I thought, 900.)
Today's flight was thankfully uneventful, and I've read my email, caught up with LJ, and gone to the grocery store.
I was calm about it up until I called my mother to let her know I hadn't arrived yet. At that point, I fell apart. Imagine the scene: 6:30 am. An open bank of pay phones in the middle of a gate area. A whole bunch of people hoping to get to Boston. And me, crying, as I tell my mother that I'm trapped there and the airline won't do anything for me because it's a weather delay. I was calm after that, too, but I must have sounded completely freaked out on the phone because my mom talked to the hotel people to make sure they wouldn't charge me for the night I couldn't get there, my dad gave me some money ("I always used to think it was strange when your grandfather [my mom's dad] would just give us money because we didn't have much when I was growing up."), and then my mom paid for my hotel room.
The weekend got better once I arrived. I was able to take a shower, for example.
I spent Saturday afternoon wandering about Boston with
ruby_fruit, which was lovely. We saw but did not go into Grendel's Den and Leo's, which are both Ben Affleck recommendations.Saturday evening was family dinner, which was cool. I hadn't seen many of the people there in well over a decade, and some of them were young enough that I'd never met them. My mom and her cousins had quite the time trading family stories. Someone needs to turn the stories into a novel. It's quite the American story full of immigrants, murder, and so many people in a small apartment that my mother and her cousin Eddie each slept in a drawer.
Sunday was the bat mitzvah. (Such things are generally held on Saturday, but this Sunday was Rosh Chodesh, which is generally considered a woman's holiday.) Liora did a lovely job, but being in a congregation that advertises that they offer both traditional and egalitarian services (the egalitarian ones being where women are actually allowed to participate) makes me a bit uneasy. The reception was at the MIT Faculty Club, which had fantastic food and needed the music to be turned down. This is the second family life cycle event in a row where the music at the reception has been loud enough to both obscure conversation and be actually physically painful.
On Monday I wandered about Boston some more and then walked all over Newton before I realized that I had no idea where I was and I needed to turn around and go back to the train station where there was a cab company. (I was actually on the right street, but the number I remembered seeing was 600 and not, as I thought, 900.)
Today's flight was thankfully uneventful, and I've read my email, caught up with LJ, and gone to the grocery store.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-31 05:39 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-31 03:20 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-31 10:18 am (UTC)It took me a moment to register that you (probably) meant when they were babies, not, you know, as fully grown adults.
The novel is a good idea--and yes, I realise you said "someone should" not "I should", I'm still encouraging it. <g> My grandfather had just written two pages of his memoirs when he died, and I still regret that I never followed through on my vague ideas of sitting with him and writing down his memories and story. (Same thing with my uncle, though from him at least I know I could reconstruct a lot from his journals and by talking to his friends.) And I'm rambling, sorry.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-31 03:23 pm (UTC)I told my mom it would make a great novel, and she suggested that her cousin Arlene would be the person to write it. Arlene talked a lot about her dad--about how she realizes that he was an abused child (not by his parents but by the rabbis in Poland who locked him in closets and boxed his ears until they bled), about how much it affected him when his father was murdered, and about how she was actually on the phone with him when he was held up in an armed robbery.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-31 03:37 pm (UTC)Oh, and were you still thinking about comin down for the convention or weekend (performance) or something?
P.S. I apologize for the typos I missed, my keyboard she is badly broken..
(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-01 01:42 am (UTC)I think I'm not going to go to the con. It would only be fun if someone went with me, and it doesn't sound like you're that interested. Plus, the con is Wednesday through Sunday and our statewide meeting for work is that Tuesday through Thursday, so I would miss two days of it anyway. I'm still waiting for Kane to have a gig in your area, though. I would totally come down for that!