This birthday business
Ok so Sunday and Monday were two rather interesting days. Let's see.
Sunday
A couple of PRC friends and I went to Harvard Square by bus to check out the annual Harvard "Stuff" Sale, where you can find anything from clothes hangers to moldy refrigerators. Basically, if a Harvard student once owned it, it's there. One might have found notes and clothing belonging to future celebrities and cash in, I suppose, but that wasn't my purpose. My Purpose: to Find a Rug for Really Cheap.
So we took the bus to Harvard Square, and (what with me liking to live in the spur of moments and all) I had no idea where the sale was. So we went to the newspaper vendors nearby (some Indian dude) and asked where it was. He had no idea, but this lanky skinny white guy (never sees the sun) did. And he offered to walk us there. So as we crossed the Yard we talked a little, and it turns out that he had a degree (from Harvard, naturally) in Urdu and Sanskrit, and had spent a year in India. And one of my PRC friends had just gone there during the summer (and used to have an Indian Indian boyfriend), so they got to talking about India and its myriad wonders. (Kinda makes you wonder what's the deal with this girl; she seems to have some kind of 缘份/destiny with India.)
So we got there, and the dude (Peter) hung around, telling us about his life. Apparently he went to art school before Harvard, specialized in sculpture, lived in Italy for a year to learn drawing, earned a Masters degree by spending 12 hours a day poring over dictionaries, and now illegally takes classes in Harvard for free as he looks after his dad and gathers the funds for a phD. This was narrated to us as he dug around the bins helping me look for a Really Cheap Rug.
Mainly though, I let my friend do the talking. I was happy to just listen. And then I saw this rug, bigger than what I needed and slightly ratty, but it was a nice blue, soft, and (importantly) easy to clean. Ok, I thought, I'll go for two bucks max. Then one of the girls in charge saw me considering it.
"I'll give it to you for one dollar."
"One dollar? Seriously? Come on; fifty cents."
She looked around. The other staff were already begining to pack; one was taking out a tarp to cover it all up.
"Fine. I'm in a good mood, I'll give it to you."
So that's how I Found a Rug for Really Cheap.
My PRC friend who's an expert at bargaining (since she's from PRC) bought a couple of binders and stationery for five bucks.
Peter ended up walking with us to the Charles river a couple of blocks away, and drove us back to Tufts in his second hand (but really nice) Buick Century. (It looked kinda like this.) I think my friend gave him my email or something.
Monday
I called my mum first thing in the morning, because she texted me HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!! in caps which was rather unexpected (she usually puts so much emphasis on proper capsination). Then I had lunch with various people, and then we went shopping in Target, where I bought things I may or may not use in the future. Then I went back.
Very exciting so far, I know.
Well! Then I was taken out for dinner (I love that phrase; it's so... quaintly shy, if that makes sense), and we ate at the Malaysian restaurant in Chinatown. And we talked about various things, some of which can probably go under the heading of gossip, except that it isn't because these stories about other people weren't the point; they were merely examples of the larger human existence.
Oh who am I kidding. You may call it gossip.
We walked through Boston Common! There were ducks and geese to terrorize, and childhoods to relive. Good fun.
And when we went home by T* we were in a crowded carriage; I stood by one of the entrances, leaning on the door. For a spate of stations the exit had been on the other side, but at Harvard it swapped sides, so I barely got my weight off the door before it opened. A rush of people went by me; Harvard was a pretty busy stop. As I shifted, my left leg suddenly found itself wedged in the gap between train and platform. It was over quite quickly, really; I fell in the gap, a really tall dude took a second to pick me up and dust me off, I said thanks and sat down in one of many suddenly vacant seats. Throughout I was like, huh what just what just whuh? Oh how embarrassing haha.
My friend gave me several big hugs afterwards, which I laughed off but were much appreciated.
So I escaped with a just few abrasions and bruises on my knee (lucky I wore jeans) and my life. Best birthday present ever!
*It's our nickname for the Boston subway, like the London Tube.
Sunday
A couple of PRC friends and I went to Harvard Square by bus to check out the annual Harvard "Stuff" Sale, where you can find anything from clothes hangers to moldy refrigerators. Basically, if a Harvard student once owned it, it's there. One might have found notes and clothing belonging to future celebrities and cash in, I suppose, but that wasn't my purpose. My Purpose: to Find a Rug for Really Cheap.
So we took the bus to Harvard Square, and (what with me liking to live in the spur of moments and all) I had no idea where the sale was. So we went to the newspaper vendors nearby (some Indian dude) and asked where it was. He had no idea, but this lanky skinny white guy (never sees the sun) did. And he offered to walk us there. So as we crossed the Yard we talked a little, and it turns out that he had a degree (from Harvard, naturally) in Urdu and Sanskrit, and had spent a year in India. And one of my PRC friends had just gone there during the summer (and used to have an Indian Indian boyfriend), so they got to talking about India and its myriad wonders. (Kinda makes you wonder what's the deal with this girl; she seems to have some kind of 缘份/destiny with India.)
So we got there, and the dude (Peter) hung around, telling us about his life. Apparently he went to art school before Harvard, specialized in sculpture, lived in Italy for a year to learn drawing, earned a Masters degree by spending 12 hours a day poring over dictionaries, and now illegally takes classes in Harvard for free as he looks after his dad and gathers the funds for a phD. This was narrated to us as he dug around the bins helping me look for a Really Cheap Rug.
Mainly though, I let my friend do the talking. I was happy to just listen. And then I saw this rug, bigger than what I needed and slightly ratty, but it was a nice blue, soft, and (importantly) easy to clean. Ok, I thought, I'll go for two bucks max. Then one of the girls in charge saw me considering it.
"I'll give it to you for one dollar."
"One dollar? Seriously? Come on; fifty cents."
She looked around. The other staff were already begining to pack; one was taking out a tarp to cover it all up.
"Fine. I'm in a good mood, I'll give it to you."
So that's how I Found a Rug for Really Cheap.
My PRC friend who's an expert at bargaining (since she's from PRC) bought a couple of binders and stationery for five bucks.
Peter ended up walking with us to the Charles river a couple of blocks away, and drove us back to Tufts in his second hand (but really nice) Buick Century. (It looked kinda like this.) I think my friend gave him my email or something.
Monday
I called my mum first thing in the morning, because she texted me HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!! in caps which was rather unexpected (she usually puts so much emphasis on proper capsination). Then I had lunch with various people, and then we went shopping in Target, where I bought things I may or may not use in the future. Then I went back.
Very exciting so far, I know.
Well! Then I was taken out for dinner (I love that phrase; it's so... quaintly shy, if that makes sense), and we ate at the Malaysian restaurant in Chinatown. And we talked about various things, some of which can probably go under the heading of gossip, except that it isn't because these stories about other people weren't the point; they were merely examples of the larger human existence.
Oh who am I kidding. You may call it gossip.
We walked through Boston Common! There were ducks and geese to terrorize, and childhoods to relive. Good fun.
And when we went home by T* we were in a crowded carriage; I stood by one of the entrances, leaning on the door. For a spate of stations the exit had been on the other side, but at Harvard it swapped sides, so I barely got my weight off the door before it opened. A rush of people went by me; Harvard was a pretty busy stop. As I shifted, my left leg suddenly found itself wedged in the gap between train and platform. It was over quite quickly, really; I fell in the gap, a really tall dude took a second to pick me up and dust me off, I said thanks and sat down in one of many suddenly vacant seats. Throughout I was like, huh what just what just whuh? Oh how embarrassing haha.
My friend gave me several big hugs afterwards, which I laughed off but were much appreciated.
So I escaped with a just few abrasions and bruises on my knee (lucky I wore jeans) and my life. Best birthday present ever!
*It's our nickname for the Boston subway, like the London Tube.