Poor, College Thanksgiving

I waited a little too long to book a flight home this year and they got a little too expensive. So I opted to stay in Boston, seeing as how I'll be home for good next month anyway. I also have a decent amount of work to do, but I will likely designate a few days to do absolutely nothing. See below, my plans for today: leftover Bon Chon, play Skyrim, catch up on non-school reading, and I just downloaded 50/50 and Warrior. I am also going to do my laundry. Tomorrow, while everyone is shopping, I think I will go see The Muppets and/or Hugo.



I'm thankful for whatever it is in me that hopes beyond hope that someday I might do something of worth for the good of the world. As contradictory as my life is, it's been a subtle, but galvanizing and self-correcting force in my life and I don't think I'd like where I'd be without it. Friends and family too, probably.

Four more weeks of school and I'm done forever.

Happy Thanksgiving, friends.

October Frost

I spent the majority of this past weekend at the library writing a paper. Saturday evening, I took a break to grab a slice of pizza across the street with a friend. It was a warm evening, unseasonably so for this time of year, and the air smelled sweetly of decaying leaves. It was dark as we were walking back to the library and our work. On the way, there was a small group huddled around a dark mound wedged in between the curb and a car. As we got closer, we noticed a concerned, elderly woman standing just outside the group with her hands clasped tightly in front of her chest. Her husband had fallen into the small space at the base of the curb and a number of passers-by were attempting to help him out and up.

Our pace slowed, watching to see if we could offer our assistance. After some doing, the gentleman was on his feet, so we continued back across Comm. Ave. to the library. Comm. Ave. is a large, busy two way road divided by the T tracks. When we got to the median, I looked back to see that the elderly couple were beginning to cross. We waited for them to reach the median safely and continued ahead by a few steps, just in case. Once they were across safely, the woman approached us to ask if we knew where a particular conference hall was, where an Amnesty International event was being held. We did and we escorted them to the building in question, which was just a couple of blocks down. While walking, we learned that they had been married for over 50 years. The wife was born October Callum, but goes by Toby. Her husband is Wesley Frost. That makes her October Frost and that is just the prettiest name.

She told us about the time she drove from Boston to Alaska and how she'd like, one day, to drive across America and write about the names of places. I told her about my cross-country trips and we shared stories from the road. Before too long, we saw them back to their car and we parted ways as they effused thank-yous. My friend and I made our way back to the library and I sunk my evening in one of my last assignments ever, hopefully. It was a pleasant diversion and I imagined what it would be like not only to have lived such a long life as happily as they have, but to have gone the majority of it with someone you love.