So...
How is the Boston apartment-hunting going? you ask.
Well, I dreamt all last night about apartment shopping.
I had a dream that I won the key to an apartment and I was really excited. The person said it was one of the most desirable places to live, blah blah blah. And then they said it cost $1000/mo. so I gave the key to Stephanie Patinha. (Where did that come from, brain?)
So then I found a room with only three walls for $300/mo. I was considering it, but was concerned about bugs getting in.
And that pretty much sums it up.
I told mom I'll be needing to sell a kidney to pay for housing, but she told me that was illegal.
So the beat goes on.
p.s.- After LDS options (of which there was really only one; it was plenty big etc. with nice people, but I wasn't ready to commit to it) I started to move to Craigslist. There are some WEIRD people living in Cambridge, looking for roommates. That's all I got to say.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Monday, July 19, 2010
Dear Little Guy
Sawyer!
It's your birthday today! You're THREE years old! Soon you'll be going to school like Will. I hope you're enjoying your birthday and having lots of fun! I miss you! I still laugh thinking about how you got so excited to see the Easter Bunny brought your pacifier in your basket.
I remember when you were just a little baby and pretty much didn't want anyone but mommy holding you. Luckily you sort of grew out of it by the time I left. Although you did have a fondness for saying "No! I don't wuv you anymore!" whenever I did something you didn't like.
Happy birthday!!!!!
Love,
Aunt Mollie
Sawyer is so cute. He really didn't like me at first, but after babysitting so much, he learned that I was Aunt Mawwee and he was just going to have to deal with it. He loves pretty much everything that's furry or alive and non-human and non-plant. He kept saying bugs were his "favorite friend" and pretty much loves to do whatever Will is doing. They definitely have very different personalities. I predict Sawyer will be the quieter, more shy and sensitive one, while his brother sucks up attention. I am curious to see the pair they make in 10 years.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Mr. Will
Dear Mr. Will,
It's your birthday today! I miss you! It has been fun tracking you through your first 5 years. I was reading my past blog posts, and I have documented so many cute things you've said/done. I wish I wasn't so far away!
Will is like my best kid friend. I spent many many hours babysitting him during my freshman year and we just got attached. In my last three years, I still spent many hours babysitting, and I've enjoyed being part of his antics and watching him grow up. He's getting so big and smart and someday he won't care about me at all, and it will be so sad!
I was just remembering a conversation I had with will before I left. We were reading "Make Way for Ducklings" and he said "Mawwee, you're going to Boston for school right?" and I said "Yes." and he asked me why I was moving to Connecticut and I said "So I can work so I can get some monies to go to school." (Ok... that didn't work out quite as planned.) And he said "Is school going to cost a lot of monies?" and I said "Yes."
There was a pause.
Then his little voice said "Aunt Mawwee? You can have all my monies from my bank to help you go to school."
I miss him a lot. :(
Happy Birthday Will!!!!!
-Aunt Mollie
Friday, July 09, 2010
Hey June Bugs, FYI: It's JULY Now!
So in my room, there is an air conditioner.
In the air conditioner, there is a filter.
In the filter, there are holes.
At least, this is what I've deduced given the frequent presence of bugs, especially the hated June Bugs, in my room. I hate June bugs. I think I got it from mom. Last week I watched her take a bottle of Raid and spray it like a fire hose on the screen of the front door, where a whole swarm of june bugs had landed for the evening, angrily ordering them, "Die! Die! I want to see you die!"
Anyway, I hate them. So here's a picture in case you don't know what a June bug is. Don't they just LOOK like you should hate them?? They crunch when you kill them. They're like kamikazes, flying crazy, pithing against the wall, and then you look down and they're crawling on your leg. It's disgusting. And they crunch when you kill them!!!
I would know.
You see, my air conditioner is a lovely thing. It keeps my room from getting unbearably hot in the summer time. It allows me to comfortably sleep with a blanket so I don't feel all disoriented trying to sleep in the open air, and it blocks out other noises, while also nicely blocking the lower half of my window so the neighbors can't see in, which they have been able to do since they chopped their bushes to nice skewampus, barren stubs. I love the thing dearly, but we need to have a talk about its filter, or whatever it is that keeps things that are outside from coming inside.
Like June bugs.
I see them spattered on the glass of my window, all congregated to look in at what they can't have. But every so often, one of them finds their way in. I always know they're coming because there's a quiet little rattle from the inside of the air conditioner. I grab the fly swatter I have hanging on a hook by the head of my bed for this specific purpose (it is cruelly unfair to be attacked by bugs and unarmed) and wait.
It always takes me by surprise when the air conditioner shoots one out into the room, launching it out over my bed. The thing is probably just happy to be alive, and that's when I frantically flail my weapon of choice and smack it out of the air. It's like skeet shooting. Thwoooom, they sail out, and I try my best to beat them down before they land on something or worse, I lose sight of them. Then, of course, to verify the deed is done, I hunt for the corpse. Usually they land on the floor, though sometimes I've whipped them off behind my bookshelf. I find them, swat them to the floor if they're not already there, and then give them another good smack. And that's when they crunch. I return to my bed, put the fly-swatter on its hook, and wait for my heart rate to go down.
My floor has become a veritable bug graveyard. They lay there, crunched, like land mines. I have to try carefully not to step on them when I foggily make my way to the bathroom at night. There are few things worse than feeling your bare foot re-crunch a dead June bug. So the Air Conditioner June Bugs join the Corner Spiders and whatever other insect detritus makes its way to the floor. I figure I have to leave them there to teach the others a lesson. Come in through that glass, June bug, and you will see the same fate as your fallen comrades.
I guess I could just try to fix whatever holes are allowing them in, but what would I blog about?
-mollie
In the air conditioner, there is a filter.
In the filter, there are holes.
At least, this is what I've deduced given the frequent presence of bugs, especially the hated June Bugs, in my room. I hate June bugs. I think I got it from mom. Last week I watched her take a bottle of Raid and spray it like a fire hose on the screen of the front door, where a whole swarm of june bugs had landed for the evening, angrily ordering them, "Die! Die! I want to see you die!"
Anyway, I hate them. So here's a picture in case you don't know what a June bug is. Don't they just LOOK like you should hate them?? They crunch when you kill them. They're like kamikazes, flying crazy, pithing against the wall, and then you look down and they're crawling on your leg. It's disgusting. And they crunch when you kill them!!!
I would know.
You see, my air conditioner is a lovely thing. It keeps my room from getting unbearably hot in the summer time. It allows me to comfortably sleep with a blanket so I don't feel all disoriented trying to sleep in the open air, and it blocks out other noises, while also nicely blocking the lower half of my window so the neighbors can't see in, which they have been able to do since they chopped their bushes to nice skewampus, barren stubs. I love the thing dearly, but we need to have a talk about its filter, or whatever it is that keeps things that are outside from coming inside.
Like June bugs.
I see them spattered on the glass of my window, all congregated to look in at what they can't have. But every so often, one of them finds their way in. I always know they're coming because there's a quiet little rattle from the inside of the air conditioner. I grab the fly swatter I have hanging on a hook by the head of my bed for this specific purpose (it is cruelly unfair to be attacked by bugs and unarmed) and wait.
It always takes me by surprise when the air conditioner shoots one out into the room, launching it out over my bed. The thing is probably just happy to be alive, and that's when I frantically flail my weapon of choice and smack it out of the air. It's like skeet shooting. Thwoooom, they sail out, and I try my best to beat them down before they land on something or worse, I lose sight of them. Then, of course, to verify the deed is done, I hunt for the corpse. Usually they land on the floor, though sometimes I've whipped them off behind my bookshelf. I find them, swat them to the floor if they're not already there, and then give them another good smack. And that's when they crunch. I return to my bed, put the fly-swatter on its hook, and wait for my heart rate to go down.
My floor has become a veritable bug graveyard. They lay there, crunched, like land mines. I have to try carefully not to step on them when I foggily make my way to the bathroom at night. There are few things worse than feeling your bare foot re-crunch a dead June bug. So the Air Conditioner June Bugs join the Corner Spiders and whatever other insect detritus makes its way to the floor. I figure I have to leave them there to teach the others a lesson. Come in through that glass, June bug, and you will see the same fate as your fallen comrades.
I guess I could just try to fix whatever holes are allowing them in, but what would I blog about?
-mollie
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