(from the East Coast) compensation

In the course of one of the many ascents of this moving project, I stopped to catch my breath. Looking out the stairwell window, I was reminded that there is a distinct beauty to this place.



At dusk, a table outside offered still another reminder that New Haven is indeed a cosmopolitan town.

(from the East Coast) notes and observations

Two college friends run into each other after a summer away: each on his and her cell phone, they don’t pause in their respective conversations. They embrace with their free arm, give wide grins, mouth “how have you been?” then “fine,” all the while continuing their cell chats, point apologetically to their phones, wave and move on.

~~~~~

Conversation in cosmetics store:
I only need body lotion… forgot mine at home…
Ah. Grapefruit – go with the grapefruit one. But wait until you see what it does to your skin if you put it on after exfoliating.
I love all those products, but I always forget to use them. They wind up drying out in their dust-covered containers.
Well, at least for your face: exfoliate, tone, seal. Three steps. Surely you take them?
No, not really…
Here, let me show you (pretending the hand is just like a face, she begins to exfoliate, then tone then seal). Where are you from, btw?
Wisconsin. I’m supposed to do this how often?
Three times a week. Daily, you just use your cleanser, right?
I don’t really use a cleanser...
What?? How do you clean your face?
With water. [Guilt and panic set in as imagination conjures up weeks, nay months of accumulated environmental pollutants.]
Oh! You are so cute! With water! That’s so charming!
You think I should use special cleanser, don’t you?
(Two women in store nod heads vigorously.)
You know, one’s skin changes over the years. I prefer being happy with those changes than throwing products at them.
You color your hair, don't you?
My man Jason simply brings it to its natural shade and pristine glow, sort of what it was like at its peak -- at age 6.
(no comment necessary)
Okay, okay, tonight: after I finish lifting a couple more boxes up and down flights of stairs, I'll exfoliate, tone and seal already.
(smiles all around)

~~~~~

At Staples: Three rolls of carpet. We need three rolls. Can we borrow the cart to wheel them to their destination? We do not have a car.
Yes, leave a photo ID.
You know, we could use this cart for the rest of the day to move around other things.
How will it look to push around a Staples cart all over New Haven? It will look like we stole it. (weigh usefulness of cart against dorkiness of using it all day)
Okay, back it goes.

~~~~~

This year’s look: sexiness continues to follow a downward direction as exposed lower torsos still catch the eye.

~~~~~


New haven, CT

(from the East coast) movin’ on up

(or: how to help a little one move into her college space given that I do not have the Arms of Arnold nor the stamina of a camel; I do have one thing though: HPPS* and mule-like stubborness, driving me to Get Things Done)

Four flights up, recover stored boxes, four flights down, three different flights up, place boxes in room.

Four flights up, recover stored boxes, four flights down, three different flights up, place boxes in room.

My hands are killing me. Not my arms, not my bicycled legs. My hands cannot hold another heavy box and clumsily, awkwardly, help lift it up another flight of stairs.

Four flights up, recover stored boxes, four flights down, three different flights up, place boxes in room.

A quick run to Ikea. Nearby, but not walking distance. Yet another chatty cabbie. I PAY for good cheer. They're rakin' it in from me today.

A lamp, two lamps. [I wonder if they have a shower curtain I could take back home with me to Madison? Seriously, does anyone know where I can get an interesting shower curtain back home? Don’t say Linens ‘n Things. Not interesting. Wait, we're takin' about a different move. Back to this one:]

Four flights up, recover stored boxes, four flights down, three different flights up, place boxes in room.

We need to stop. Hi, Dean of College. How come this year’s reception is for class of ’09 parents only? Aren’t class of ’07 parent(s) good enough? I could have used those catered snacks. I haven’t eaten since yesterday, having declined an invitation to eat pizza and drink wine at 10:30 am.

Four flights up, recover stored boxes, four flights down, three different flights up, place boxes in room.

Oh thank you, storage area for closing at 10! Thank you so much.

We are ahead of schedule (when in the last three months have you heard me say that?) We are tired but happy (ditto). We make faces in the mirror across from our table at Cosi, order salads and toast marshmallows and graham crackers over a little burner. Heavy work, light heart.
* you can't be an Ocean reader and not know this: Hearty Polish Peasant Stock