Well, I was wrong. But it is good to be back. At least in the past fifteen minutes that I've actually spent at my sister's since arriving, I've been calm and content. I forgot how much I feel like I'm at a summer resort at Kimberley's. She's not here but I let myself in with the old key saying I invented ("Silver stay down, gold go up"). I'm sitting on the porch, the birds are chirping (not pigeons) and the sun is beginning to set. This is Cambridge.Mostly I sat around and did nothing on the train. Here are some pictures and an angsty post to prove it:
I thought about taking the bus because the last time I took Amtrak, my train hit and killed a fifteen-year old boy. (I believe his name was Robert Castro.) But thinking about Aimee’s bus rides to and from Boston reminded me of how unbearable that mode of transportation can be. So I’m back on the train.
So far the ride has been quiet and I’ve been in a contemplative mood, watching Connecticut and all of its New Englandness fly by. The last time I was out of New York was for my second residency and I’m definitely due for a break.
I don’t know what this feeling is, an emptiness like I forgot to pack something for the trip or maybe this is just that old railroad mood I’ve almost forgotten about. Remember when I was living at Kimberley’s and commuting back and forth for job interviews and housing searches? In just seven months, my life has completely changed.
For some reason, I can’t get into my book, A Blind Man Can See How Much I Love You by Amy Bloom. Right now, I’d rather sit back, turn up the Ipod and stare out the window.
Note to Breda: I'm back. I should be blogging regularly now that I'm away from New York's hustle. Thanks for your patience and dedication.
Movie to not watch ever: Escape From New York
Movie for romance: Paris, je t'aime
Music to ride the rails: The Littlest Birds by The Be Good Tanyas
Tonight's Goals: Empty voice mailbox, take bath, go to sleep.
