"Did you ever think that maybe Sylvia Plath wasn't crazy, maybe she was just cold?"--Hope to me as we stood in front of the open oven door trying to warm up.
Back in Boston. A little advice, my friends, never, never try to get public transportation from Providence Airport to Boston. It took me five hours to get home last night after I got off the plane in Providence. The Providence railway station is a cool place, though. Just a room with a circle of wooden benches and a stone tile floor. It was a good background for all sorts of people coming through, the businessman trying to get home as fast as possible, teenagers just hanging out, students on their way back to school, single parents, old men trying to smoke their cigarettes and being chewed out by the janitorial staff.
They played Sufjan Stevens' "Chicago" in O'Hare Airport. And by "they" I mean CNN. But it was still appropriate. I love the little appropriate things in life.
I also decided I don't really care for Starbucks' White Hot Chocolate. Tastes like plastic.
Posted by linnea at December 29, 2005 12:31 AMSome surreal musical moments experienced this year at school: 1) Arriving at the gym for a fencing practice and having to wait for the aerobics class to finish up before we could have the room. What were they jamming to? Franz Ferdinand's "Take Me Out." 2) Attending a rather updated militarized version of Henry V. The intermission background music included The Decemberists' "Legionaire's Wife."
Posted by: funke at December 29, 2005 10:48 AMFive hours! You poor kid! It was long enough from Logan last summer. Guess you'll never do that again. And we thought having Will take the shuttle to Chatta. was a pain! I hope you're staying warm.Call sometime.
Posted by: sperlonga at December 29, 2005 2:03 PM