My Top 5 – Boston

I feel that in this blog I have given Boston a lot of flack.  I promise, I DO like it here!  And I have decided to prove it.  Now that I have been in Boston for a total of 7 months (I can’t believe how fast it’s been), I would like to share my current list of my favorite things about Boston.  Enjoy – and feel free to comment with your own suggestions!

Top 5 – Boston (in no particular order…):

The Mean and Angry Terrier with Muscles

1) Boston University – I can’t help but have pride in my graduate school.  It is a school that gives me many headaches and causes me much stress (or is it my classes?) but it is also a beautiful place AND is now home to the National Hockey Champions for 2009! Go Terriers (and for those of you who say that is a wimpy and lame mascot, it is a mean and angry terrier with muscles)! More importantly, BU has some great professors who have truly made my education completely worth the soon-to-be $80,000+ of student loans

 

McCloskey's ducklings immortalized in bronze in the Public Garden

2) The Boston Public Garden/Make Way for Ducklings – I grew up reading “Make Way for Ducklings,” by Robert McCloskey, never really realizing that the story takes place in the beautiful Boston Public Garden.  Every time I walk through the garden, I am reminded of why Boston is so unique and, as far as the East Coast goes, a truly special place to live.

3) My great friends – Before I came to Boston, I lamented to my CA friends and family how they should get used to me calling them all the time because nobody would like me here and I wouldn’t have any friends.  The opposite has happened – I am lucky to be in a graduate program with some truly amazing people from all over the world who I know I will have relationships with for a long time to come.  This in itself has made coming here totally worthwhile.

Brilliant fall day in Boston

4) SEASONS! Especially fall – After living in Orange County for the last four years, I became accustomed to a pretty consistent year of summer.  Many would kill for that, I know, but believe me, it gets boring.  Getting to experience an East Coast fall was magnificent, and I can’t wait to do it again this coming fall.

5) The History – Again, back to Orange County; I went to school in Irvine, which was pretty much built in 1965 when UC Irvine was opened.  Irvine is creepy in its plastic, “Pleasantville”-like state.  I love that I live in a city that is rich with history and the story of our nation’s beginning (I’ve always been somewhat of an American History nerd).  PS: The link is to the USS Constitution site – I’ve visited it twice now, and I have to admit, it’s a lot more fun than it seems.

Old Ironsides - I'm a nerd

That’s it for now.  As my time in Boston goes on, I will add to the list.  Also, stay tuned for my “Top 5 – California,” a true homage to why California is home.

Trail of Crumbs

I find it ironic that when I was in undergrad, with WAY more time on my hands, I never “had time” to read for myself.  Since I’ve come to Boston, I’ve read more books for myself than I have in a long time.  This is either because my brain needs the reprieve and the vacation from the stresses of grad school (and TV just isn’t cutting it anymore), or because I’m just so desperate for reading that is not school-related that I make myself find the time.  Either way, I just finished a wonderful book about a young woman’s journey in finding herself.

The book is called “Trail of Crumbs,” by Kim Sunee.  The memoir follows her journey from childhood to her late twenties.  When she was three years old she was

Trail of Crumbs by Kim Sunee

 abandoned by her mother in a Korean market.  It is one of her earliest memories.  Luckily she is adopted by a couple from New Orleans and is raised on the delicious cajun cooking of her grandfather.  However despite a loving family, she never feels settled, nothing is ever “home” to her.  In an effort to find home, she studies abroad in college in Paris and winds up in Sweden with a boyfriend.  It is during her time in Sweden that she meets Olivier Baussan, the founder of the provencial bath and body store, L’Occitane. They begin an intense romance, and she finds herself the mistress of his beautiful estate in Provence, a mother-type to his daughter, and hostess to his many friends.  All beginning at the age of 22.

The story follows her journey during her relationship with Baussan.  Although the relationship is one that is very loving and very intense in their feelings for each other, she still struggles with finding home.  As much as Buassan tries to make his life home for Sunee, it is never truly right for her.  The story is deeply moving and tragic at times.  I cried through many parts of it because I found myself identifying with her and also mourning the “star-crossed lovers” nature of her and Baussan’s relationship.

This was one of those books that stuck with me for days.  It was rich in its descriptions of the beautiful landscapes of the south of France and of the food that Sunee cooks throughout the story.  That is one thing I forgot to mention, the thread that links the entire story is food – which makes sense because Sunee’s passion is food.  At the end of most of the chapters are one or two or even three recipes that were mentioned within the chapter.

I am by no means as lost as Sunee is in this story, nor do I have a sense of an absence of home.  In fact, I am very much committed to my own sense of home.  Unlike Sunee, who searches for a home that she has never seen, I find myself seeking a home that I have left but yearn to go back to.  This has been the case for me since I left for undergrad five years ago.  But I can identify with her trying to assert her own identity as a young woman in her twenties.  

My 7th grade experience was one of great misery and awkwardness.  I would come home nearly every day crying because I had no friends and I felt so inadequate as a person.  My mom would always say to me, “Oh honey, this isn’t so bad and it won’t be like this forever. Really though, your twenties will be much harder.”  Gee, thanks.  I always waved her off, never wanting to believe her (since, you know, she hadn’t lived through her twenties or anything…), but now I am finding, as I have been finding a lot lately, that my mom was right.  My twenties ARE pretty hard and I DO feel like I am still trying to figure out who I am and who I want to be.  It is much more complicated than I ever imagined it would be, but at the same time, it is really fun.  I am braver than I have ever been (c’mon, I moved 3,000 miles away BY MYSELF!), and, although uncertain about what is ahead, I am so much more confident in myself.

If anyone has suggestions for other books that explore similar themes as “Trail of Crumbs” (coming of age, finding home, etc.) please share!  I’m always looking for great suggestions

The New Saturday Night

When I was in undergrad I had the luxury of declaring that Friday and Saturday nights were “off limits” when it came to studying, even when it came to studying.  I would make sure to devote both nights to doing something for myself, whether it was to go out with friends or just stay in and watch hours and hours of junky TV in my pajamas.  Both options were equally great.  

In grad school this is not the case.  Here I am on a Saturday night, sitting on my couch with my laptop.  I just finished working on a paper for my Corporate Public Relations class, a paper that I have been working on since 1 p.m. today (since I slept in til noon).  Am I anywhere near finished?  Nooooooo.  In fact, I haven’t actually started WRITING yet, rather, I’ve spent the last 8 hours researching and highlighting important points in different color hi-lighters (to correspond with the section of the paper those points pertain to).  

And the funny thing?  7 months into grad school and this is now a normal Saturday night for me.  In fact, I don’t even think about it anymore.  

When people allude to my being in grad school as my unwillingness to enter the “real world” I can only laugh.  The differences between grad school and undergrad are astounding.  Whereas undergrad was filled going to the beach, sorority parties and idle hours after class, grad school is nonstop.  In fact, I even would go as far to say that I think that grad school is actually WORSE than the “real world” (as in, the working world), because at least in the real world, you have weekends off.  Grad school is 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.  I breathe, sleep and dream about grad school and the work that still needs to be done.  

I am by no means complaining, I promise!  I am glad that I’m here, spending my Saturday night writing a paper about sustainability and communication.  I feel productive and that I am doing something worthwhile.  I know that this is an investment in my future, so, what can I do except for my best?

Always leave things on a high note

This semester has proved to be tough.  Not just in terms of school, but in terms of finding a way to stand up for what I need, and still believe in my own goals, confidence in myself and abilities.  This semester I signed on to do some pro-bono PR work for a non-profit organization.  Initially I was really excited about the opportunity; I interned at a non-profit for two years before coming to BU and it had been an excellent experience.  Why would this one be any different?  Well, after working with the person in charge of this organization, I soon realized this experience was probably not going to be the same positive experience like in my past.  No matter what I did or how hard I tried, this person was never pleased with my work and had a hard time communicating that to me.  It got to a point where this experience, coupled with other issues going on in school, were causing me to seriously re-consider if I am doing the right thing and to seriously re-consider my competency, knowledge and skills in terms of PR and just being a human being in general.  

But then today something miraculous (ok, probably an exaggeration, but miraculous in my mind) happened. I decided to quit the thankless pro-bono PR work.  I have never quit something for the reason of my not feeling like I was meeting their needs.  In fact, the only time I ever quit jobs was because I was going back to school, and those jobs were the typical summer retail jobs, hardly pertaining to my intended future career.  

For quite some time I felt as if this pro-bono work was just not working out for me or for the head of the organization.  We didn’t “fit,” and, no matter how hard I tried, it just was not working and was not positive.  Things came to a head when I went on to the organization’s newly designed website only to find that the hard work I had put into creating the content for the website was not used at all.  Couple this with my already overwhelming schedule for school and I realized that it would probably be better if I just gracefully bowed out.  

So I did.  I was trembling when I did it, but it turned out to not be so bad.  She understood and I think she was a little bit relieved.  We both were.  Of course, the pep talk that I got from one of my professors (who had referred me to this pro-bono work), definitely helped me choose my words wisely and leave, as he says you should always try to do, on a high note.  

He also says that there are no rules and that those who break rules are the same people who make rules.  This doesn’t have much to do with the above incident, but I like that nugget of information and wanted to share it.

It was a lesson in staying true to myself and having the courage to stand up for what I need in my life.  I feel like I am learning a lot of these types of lessons this semester – lessons that have nothing to do with school or PR, but lessons that have to do with being an adult.  And isn’t that half of the reason why we stay in school?  It is for me… Again, like one of my previous posts, so cheesy, but also, so true.

It’s meant to be…

I am so on top of this blog now – probably because it is much more fun (and cathartic) to write for myself than it is to study for my exams or work on my projects.  Give and take, right?

Quick story: This past saturday I found myself driving my friend Ellen’s car (long story as to why.  I am not getting into that part).  I was terrified to be driving in Boston because, believe it or not, Boston drivers are WAY scarier and crazier than LA drivers.  I am not kidding.

As I came up to the stop light at the intersection of Harvard Ave and Brighton Ave, palms sweaty from the nerves of being in a position where I could mess up Ellen’s car or hit a pedestrian or get yelled at by another driver, I noticed a little Honda in front of me, one lane over.  As I glanced at it I saw that it not only had California plates (a rarity 3000 miles away) BUT a “Honda Walnut Creek” license plate frame! It was so happily unexpected, like randomly bumping into an old friend who you haven’t seen in years.  I was so excited that, once I realized that I couldn’t pull up next to the car and scream “OMG I’M FROM WALNUT CREEK TOO!!!”, I immediately called Ellen to let her know.  I don’t think she understood why I was so excited.

I take this as a sign.  This is a sign that I AM meant to be back in California, once all of this is said and done, but that it is also the right thing that I am here in Boston now.  AND that I am not the only one from the dub-c (as we so affectionately call it) who is living here.  It made me feel more connected.

Battle of the Ages (or at least until I move)

I have a love/hate relationship with my apartment here in Boston.  I knew it was a gamble signing on the dotted line sight unseen, but I couldn’t afford to fly out to Boston early to search for apartments, meaning I had to blindly allow a random broker to pick my apartment.  I will never do that again.  

A list of some of the scream/tear-out-my-hair issues with this apartment dating back to Setpember 2008:

1) The first time I tried to use my oven (my first experience with a gas oven, btw), my carbon monoxide alarm went off.  This was on a Sunday night.  An emergency call to N’Star, a ruined frozen pizza, and two days later I got a brand new stove/oven.

2) My across-the-hall neighbor, in a fit of rage (God knows why), tried to force his way into my apartment by attempting to beat the door down, amidst much yelling and cursing.  A terror-stricken 911 call to the Boston police yielded no results in my favor.  Six months later, I finally feel a little bit more comfortable here, which is probably due to the fact that he has a girlfriend now.

3) The countless random clogs in my shower/toilet/kitchen sink.

4) The hot water randomly turning off.

The list goes on.  But the newest issue is one that, to me, tops all of the above issues and that is: Cockroaches.  Yes.  My apartment bathroom has recently become home to these lovely little (not so little, DEFINITELY not lovely) vermin.  The battle has begun.  It is me and my Raid against them.

Ok, I make it sound like I have a full-on infestation.  No, it hasn’t come to that (yet).  I have only seen two – but the two were within 5 days of each other and my reading on cockroaches taught me that when you see one, it means that there are hundreds more.  HUNDREDS MORE.  

 

Uninvited Guest

I always thought spiders scared me more than anything, but no, cockroaches do.  They give me the heebie-jeebies like no other.  I would gladly take spiders over cockroaches because at least spiders have a PURPOSE.  In fact, as I was doing my nightly Raid spray of the bathroom (hmmm…and I wonder why I have been feeling queasy the last few days…), I saw a tiny little spider in the corner, and you know what?  I was actually HAPPY to see it!  I was happy to spare it the Raid bath.  

 

I have had a hard time sleeping since I saw the two cockroaches.  I have nightmares where my apartment has lots of cockroaches and in the middle of the battle my Raid runs out.  My sleep is one of unease as I try not to think about potential cockroaches making their way into my bed.  I am constantly searching for traces of cockroaches – cockroach eggs, cockroach feces.  Suddenly every mark and scratch in my hardwood floor is a cockroach. And every time I enter my bathroom, I must inspect every single corner before I do anything – whether it is use the toilet, take a shower, or just check my makeup in the mirror.  

Trusty Defender

 

My good friend Cat has said in the past that I shouldn’t be surprised about the problems in my apartment since, you know, everything on the East Coast is like a thousand years old.  Of course she was being facetious, but I always think back to that comment.  Mostly because it makes me laugh.  It reminds me that this is just another aspect of this great new experience for me.  And, unlike most people my age, I had the luxury of living in relatively new, vermin-free buildings back in Orange County, since, you know, Orange County was built like, five years ago.

The good thing about my apartment is that the management company is relatively on top of getting things fixed.  I called them on Friday and explained my plight.  They are (supposedly) going to send in an exterminator as well as someone to patch up the holes in the wall of my bathroom in an effort to keep the cockroaches out.  

But until they follow through on their promise, it is me and my trusty Raid, tirelessly fighting for my sanity and vermin-free living area.

Words from my mother

Ok, it’s been a month since my first (and only so far) post.  I know, I know, I need to do better.  But I DO have an excuse and that excuse is GRAD SCHOOL.  

For as long as I can remember I knew I was going to get at least a Masters degree.  My mom has a Ph.D, and while my dad didn’t go to college, both of my parents raised me with the sense that not only was going to college not an option, but getting a post bachelor’s degree was the norm.  I shaped my entire pre-grad school education on getting into grad school.  Now that I am here, I find that despite all of my preparation, I was not prepared for this at all.  

School has always been relatively easy for me (except for math).  I excelled in high school and undergrad, especially in writing.  More importantly, I loved it.  Not the case anymore.

This is where I think I went wrong: I over-prepared for the emotional change that moving 3000 miles away would entail without really thinking about the fact that I was going to get a MASTERS DEGREE.  And yet, while everyone encouraged me to come to BU, and while everyone told me how fun and exciting this time in my life would be, nobody said anything about the actual education part.  How stressful it is.  How, despite the fact that you put your heart and soul into your work, you don’t get the grades to reflect your effort.  How it makes you feel so defeated.  

I am by no means blaming anybody for not telling me to prepare for the realities of the actual education part of grad school.  Not even my mom, who now, when I call her to tell her about the project that I spent countless hours, emotion and energy on (only to get berated by my professor when I presented it), says, “Well, it’s grad school honey, what do you expect?”  Well…I don’t know what I expected…but I certainly didn’t expect it to be like this! 

But then my mom says, like all good mothers, “This is a good learning experience for you.”  I know she’s right.  I know that dealing with the abrasive and aggressive professor will only make me more prepared for the real world.  And that I shouldn’t feel embarrassed about not being able to keep it together and bursting into tears in another professor’s office (even though I still am embarrassed…).  Or that the $100,000 of debt that I am accruing is more than worth it, as is the weight gain from stress-eating and lack of sleep.  It’s all a part of the learning experience.  Right???  

Tomorrow I turn 23 years old and I feel as if I am entering my quarter-life crisis two years early.  It’s like I am 15 years old again, trying to figure out “who I am”.  Only this time the hurdles and worries are much more substantial.  Will I be able to afford rent this summer?  Why are my classmates getting interviews for summer internships and I am only getting silence?  Will I get put on academic probation because I might get a C in one of my classes (even though I am working so hard to try to prevent that)?  Am I even here for the right reasons?

The idea of “finding myself” is so cliche, but this is where I’m at at the moment.  Gotta love grad school.