Based upon my last entry, someone might say that I’m reading my journal from 1998-99 because I’m nostalgic for past travels and adventures. But they’d only be partially right.

In actuality, when I finished my journal (well, not actually finished…I missed putting the last few weeks in, not to mention my round-Europe trip). I promised myself that in 10 years time I’d go back and read the journals—once I had a little time and distance between all the events and emotions of that year to see what I thought. It is amazing how fast time has passed and how much I have changed along with those who were a part of my life at age 17-18.

I am now married, 28, living in a major city, have a bachelors and a master’s degree. Buying my first home and thinking about starting a family. My parents have divorced for over 4 years. My brothers are both out of schooling (Jimmy nearly). Mom has moved to another town too. My best friend is married and living in her home. Of the exchange students I keep up with, one is married with a daughter. Another is still single. Of old high school friends of whom I write, one is married with a son, another is engaged. Others have been long lost to time and distance.

Some are absent from the pages, most notably my husband. In reading my old journal, I found it difficult to think back to a time where I didn’t even know he existed. In fact, none of the people who are the greatest part of my life in Boston existed to me yet.

The attitudes, words, and situations described within the pages of the journal have left me astonished. I’ve been devouring the pages vociferously over a two-day period and I’ve read the entirety of two composition notebooks. I see so many other but also similar angles to myself, things I write that are dead-wrong and incredibly immature or naive, but also things that are rather shocking (well, to me) and insightful. Moments and words exchanged, once long forgotten, have re-surfaced. Sometimes I catch myself laughing, other times I’m crying with tears that never seem to end because I really feel for the girl who is really struggling to survive. I see where I did right by myself, what I cheated myself out of, and I also see where I was truly let down by others. I’m impressed by the burden I carried at times. I don’t know that I could have handled it at age 28 any better or at all.

On the other hand, I read cards from relatives and friends and read my conversations with some friends I made that year, and I see how much people truly cared about me---although I didn’t fully appreciate it at the time. I am eternally grateful to my best friend and my grandparents who wrote cards and letters that really made me realize how truly loved I was. I also see in the photos and compliments paid to me on the pages that I was, even in my own current opinion, once truly pretty on the outside---in fact, often stunning. I’m angry with myself for not appreciating it then and being so hard on myself for my appearance. Some of that, however, isn’t my fault either. And additionally, I’m angry that I haven’t taken care of myself the way I ought to the last 10 years.

I still have the third and final composition note book to read and am thinking about what I want to do from there. I see patterns in myself that I’d like to think further on, parenting mistakes made that I’d rather avoid as I see the confusion and hurt they caused me as I tried to live up to impossible standards with very little information. I see how growing up in a small town with limited viewpoints really hindered me up until that point…this validates the choice I’ve made to live in Boston.

So where I go from here, I’m not sure. Perhaps writing it into something more coherent, but I worry about self-censorship. I see the uncomfortable, the bad, the ugly; the uplifting…it would be hard to organize the ramblings of an 18-year-old adolescent. On the other hand, it’s probably worth a shot.

Minimally, even though keeping the journal was a lot of work—it was totally worth it. I’m so glad I did it. After I finish reading, Keith will have his turn. I don’t intend to show the books to anyone else.

Labels: friends, growth, history, journals, retrospection, Sweden

Again, I have not been dutiful in keeping up with my blog. Its really something I should keep up with, not so much for those who may read it, but rather as a way that I can process events and thoughts as they occur. However, in the last few months life again has been so busy, I haven't been able to grant myself the luxury of simply sitting down and writing.

As a new year begins, my most worthwhile intention is probably the one I have to sit down and simply give myself the opportunity to really recollect events and further probe my emotions, reactions, and ideas. This all, of course, in addition to the perennial favorite resolution--to lose weight or simply be physically healthier. In looking back, I did a fairly good job, although not as good as I hoped to take the time to experience the city that I have made my home--my resolution for 2008. Losing weight, again, was a bust--hence its re-occurence in 2009.

Speaking of homes, it is satisfying to report that at long last, after a year of persistent looking, Keith and I found our first home. Having seen it just prior to Thanksgiving weekend, we submitted an offer around Keith's birthday (Dec. 1) and then had the offer accepted Dec. 7. After inspections and further back and forth negotiating, a Purchase & Sale Agreement was signed Dec. 23. Now we are waiting for Wells Fargo to officially and finally approve our mortgage and we will close on February 13, 2009. This is but 25 days away from today. We are still in a little bit of denial--we have not packed one box, nor secured movers (ideally this would happen after the mortgage is all official) but we will spend the next few weekends and evenings packing up our lives for the 5th time in 5 1/2 years and move. The good thing is that barring an amazing opportunity of gargantuan proportions, we plan to stay put for awhile.

And yet, with the milestone comes new concerns and thoughts. I'm delighted that we will no longer be nomads moving from apartment to apartment, yet, I am fully aware of the significance of what this purchase means. It is not just buying property, but rather also a shifting of our priorities and in some ways also a loss of freedom. In this real estate market particularly, no buyer could not help but be aware that once purchased, a home is not necessarily something easy to sell and divest of. A homeowner cannot just pick up and go and see where life takes them.

By doing this, Keith and I are becoming full-fledged adults. Not that we weren't adults before, but being renters allowed us more disposable income, savings, more free time, etc. I'm pre-mourning that a little, even while I celebrate the fact that I can do whatever I want to my interiors, own a dog, and hopefully also set ourselves on the path of building wealth. Even as we dine out or purchase entertainment, I'm aware that a tightening of the belt will make these excursions less frequent, if not non-existent starting out.

We also realize that we're taking the first step to build our family. After nearly 9 years knowing each other, 8 1/2 of that being a couple, and nearly 3 1/2 years of marriage it has dawned on us that we are quickly approaching yet another milestone as we approach our thirties.

I'm sure you can guess what I'm referring to.

As excited as I am to think of this, I confess some disquiet. NO friends about us seem to making the same moves towards family-building. In fact, several couples we are friends with have publicly declared their intent not to do so at all. Actually, we are the only people we know that plan on having kids...a shocking revelation because in the hometowns and families we grew up in, families were central and celebrated.

Lastly, a couple we see on a weekly to almost bi-weekly basis and have known since our freshman year at Franklin & Marshall could be said to be taking steps in the opposite direction. After finishing graduate school, they are headed to the Netherlands for further study and work for at least a 2 year period. Obviously they can do this--they aren't homeowners, and there are no children to consider uprooting. If we truly wanted the same thing and the same opportunities came along, I suppose we could too somehow. However, because it would involve so much further worry, preparation, and eventually will effect the well-being of persons other than just the two of us--I wonder if we'd be brave enough to take on the disruption and potential risks.

Now knowing me and my love of Europe (particularly Sweden, but I'd try anywhere really) I envy them and have jokingly said as much (although I'm sure they realize the truth lying behind my jests). But if I was going, I suspect that I might be just as dispirited at the idea of being a nomad yet again, except this time having the challenge of relocating my life not just to another apartment in the same city, but rather re-establishing myself in another culture far away. I would have been (knowing me) very disappointed to be delaying the start of family life for this adventure. Or would I? The fact is, I'll never know for sure if I will always think the grass is always greener elsewhere. Mostly, I push the hypothetical indecision I feel to the side. After all, Keith or I haven't been offered post-doctorates in Europe so there's no need to decide. A clarity in goals though would definitely make it easier to decide and encourage us to make the steps to look and pursue opportunities of adventure though. Instead, we've actually just added another weight to bind us to Boston. (Which is a fine place I'm happy to have landed in, don't get me wrong.)

The Alyssa of 10 years ago, the Alyssa who then was a high school student in Sweden in January of 1999, loving her time and eagerly anticipating college, would have scoffed at the apprehension I am now expressing here. It was easy enough then for me to basically fit the contents of my life into two suitcases. Now, its hard to get it all in a full moving truck. The accoutrement of a cozy married life almost now feel like shackles because I've gotten used to finer trappings than instant soups and plastic cutlery. Certainly adventures also require a modicum (or even a great deal) of sacrifice.

So I'm left asking myself--have I changed or have I simply wussed out? It is a question I ask that have no foolproof way of answering.

As I think forward to the days, perhaps another even 10 years, when I will stop waking up each day and worrying about my husband and I want, and instead having to put children as our top consideration, I ask myself, "How much my life will resemble the one I've carefully crafted in the years since moving here?" Further, I ask myself if my friends still be my friends, or will they have moved on since we will have become boring adults completely wrapped up in child-rearing with spit-up dribbled down our shirts.

For the pair I speak of who are moving abroad, they seem wholly unconcerned. They seem to think that they will do their thing...perhaps coming back to Boston, perhaps drifting elsewhere, or perhaps staying in Holland...but that regardless of what the future holds, we'll simply pick up where we left off when we see each other again.

I don't have in my heart to really break it to them how unlikely that is. Furthermore, the responsiblities we take on next month and in the coming years will make expensive travel a decided luxury if they choose not to return. We will change profoundly--I can feel it. And we will have no choice.

And likely, so will they as they learn a new culture.

Perhaps I'll be wrong, but I recall all too well from my experience how much I dramatically changed upon my return from living abroad. Friends and family barely recognized me personality-wise. The bubbly girl who left has never reappeared. People who were my best and closest friends beforehand completely disappared from my life, and much of it was MY doing, however not explicit or particularly deliberate.

Even if our friends return to Boston, a life-changing event will have happened for us...things will be quite different if there's an infant for us to consider and not a whole lot in common to discuss anymore. I have visions of them asking us about what video games we've played lately and we'll gaze at them with bleary, sleep-deprived eyes and tell them that we haven't seen our Wii since my third trimester...that sort of thing.

So, one of them, not knowing what items and preparations need to be completed prior to January 28th (the potential fly-out date) spent a great deal of time with us this weekend and at the end of events this evening, gave quick hugs and basically said "see ya later." Keith and I are sitting down quietly, wrapping up our weekend and taking a little time to relax (I am writing this blog) and we look at each other and just know its not that simple. I, from experience, and Keith from years of me telling funny anecdotes and pouring out my emotions on occasion that since July 1998, I changed absolutely and he never met that Alyssa.

Labels: children, family, home buying, Netherlands, new year, personality shifts, priority shifts, Sweden

Wow....

A couple people (lately) mentioned to me that they had been reading my blog to catch up on my life. Considering I haven't written since APRIL I'm not sure there was much to catch up on in this blog, but I'm hoping that I'll be taking the time to at least write some thoughts down.

I tend to think best in terms of dates, so I'll try to start where I left off.

Our housing search continued in the late spring and summer as the housing market continued to crumble. Other homes came to our attention, and our area of searching further expanded to Milton, MA. Milton is an inner-ring suburb that is very diverse with excellent schools, all recently rebuilt in the last decade. An even bigger bonus is that its on the Red Line rail extension running between Ashmont Square and Mattapan Square. Which means a car free commute is a distinct possibility for us. However, we can get good schools, something that Boston public is sorely lacking at the moment. Keith and I are big believers in public education and we don't want to send or pay more parochial or private schooling.

Two homes presented themselves--one in Lower Mills, Dorchester just over the Neponset River from Milton, and one just over the Neponset from Dorchester, but after two looks we ruled them out for various reasons. Then, we went away in early July with my mom to Florida (only for a couple days sadly) and begin to seriously start thinking about apartment hunting. The market was still declining and buying something you don't like in a declining market makes ZERO sense. Florida was a fun distraction though for a few days.

There were some career developments in July. First, Keith found out that his hiring contract becoming permanent was going to be delayed (which ticked us off in ways you cannot imagine). Second, I had 6 interviews (yes, 6) for a possible promotion at HBS that went on endlessly.

Meanwhile, back on the housing front, we found a rundown (but not too rundown) house in Milton that we bid on in late July. Although we were financing (by pure coincidence) with the bank that OWNED the home and willing to close in 30 days, another buyer was chosen. Our mortgage brokers did their best to contact the REO department, but couldn't get in touch with anyone. The selling agent didn't want to take into account financing---after all, his commission is based upon sale price only.

Needless to say, we never heard back....and so we did have to find an apartment--one month away from the end of our lease.

So we found an apartment and are now living here: http://www.schoolhouseatlowermills.com/. We wanted to at least live in Lower Mills so we could be closer to the area we're looking and really try the commute out. So far, things have been going well and we like our apartment--although the bedrooms are a bit "cozy" we think.

We moved the last week in August after a yard sale where we sold off a ton of stuff. And found out upon moving that we should have sold a ton more stuff. We managed to unload a bit of it and hope to unload more gradually using Craig's List, etc.

Moving was a pain as a ton of our stuff got broken, even with hiring movers. One major casualty was a Åsa Brandt glass tray that was given from my Swedish host family as a wedding gift....Keith accidentally broke it. Unfortunately, it was a huge deal to me and its irreplaceable. So I'm trying to move on...*sniffle*

God, I hate moving. I'm not looking forward to moving again anytime soon.

However, now, I am convinced that God himself is watching us and its best we didn't buy. As you all know, the stock market started going berserk-o in September and I think the bottom is yet to come. We're keeping our eyes peeled, but, we're definitely in no rush--even if we continue to save and rent for a couple more years. My money is that the bottom (although this is subject to change depending on the incoming President) will occur between April and August 2009. We'll see if I'm right.

Back on the career front...In early August, I found out that I didn't get the promotion--not for any really good reason, but a whole lot of wishy washy ones (based upon the lack of straight talk I got). My faculty were dismayed---at least the ones who commented on it. Needless to say, I've moved on mentally, quit mentally, and am going to probably progress career-wise outside HBS. Ultimately, I'll be okay if I'm at HBS one more year--so I'm vested in my pension, but beyond that....bye, bye.

There is really a dearth of options now, and so I'm concentrating on other things.

Namely my feet. The end of August I went to a podiatrist because I always have painful walking and basically my option is surgery. I have toes that curl up (hammertoes or mallettoes, depending on the joint are the common name) and the joints have become rigid and permanently dislocated. Because my toes arch upwards, they get friction (blisters, etc.) on the tops of my feet. Then on the bottom, more blisters because a misalignment of the toes puts additional pressures on the tops of the ball of your feet. So, treatment is removal of the last joints in each toe, skewering the affected toes with pins, letting like that for 3 weeks, and then pulling the pins out. I lose mobility, but hey--I didn't have it before and its not really needed. The loss of mobility is a good thing because it means my toes will stay as they ought to--nice and straight.

I had the surgery on October 10th--and it really wasn't bad. The care at the hospital (Beth Israel Deaconess) was excellent, the doctor's been great, I took a week off with my foot up and on ice. I had anti-inflammatory drugs and Percoset when needed. Keith got me a video game and I played that, caught up on reading, caught up on movies.

All in all, the surgery was a good thing. Other than our foray into Florida in July and a week long trip to PA in August to see family (my great grandmother turned 90, my dad was preparing for major surgery at the end of the month, and my dad's parents celebrated their 55th wedding anniversary), I hadn't had time to really.....unwind and de-plug. Being forced into sitting or laying down and not able to clean up, do chores, see people, etc...was good for me.

By the end of my week though, I was a little zooey--full of cabin fever. So my other foot (my leftie) will be done on Dec. 19th, so I can minimize the amount of paid time off I have to use (what if I get the flu in February?) and basically do what I do at the end of December anyway---sit around. My family will be around that week to keep me company while I keep my leg up and on ice.

Back to career stuff--on Keith's end, his contract FINALLY ended September 2nd and he has been a full fledged employee ever since. So he's all set.

September 3 we celebrated our 3rd wedding anniversary amidst moving boxes by watching our wedding DVD. Awwww....

Ghost and Goblin turned 4 (already!) on August 19th and celebrated 4 years with us on October 19th!

The rest of September after this can basically be summed up as follows: start of school year and unpacking.

October 3 I turned 28 years old. I felt and still feel....OLD. Especially compared to all the 18-22 year olds running around here. I truly and really feel for the first time I've arrived as an adult. We celebrated by going with our friends, the Potters, to Six Flags New England on Oct. 4th. We had a lot of fun...and I highly recommend the FLASH pass.

Lastly, in my family some major things have happened. My father had his right leg amputated in late August and is still struggling to recover and learn to walk again with a prosthetic. I haven't seen him since early August (he didn't want us coming down for the surgery) but call him every so often to see how he's doing. Keith's dad also found out in May that his cancer had returned---and in September, he concluded his radiation. He had prostate cancer about 10-12 years ago (Keith was a teenager) and thank god all the lymph nodes were removed down there then. His doctor diagnosed the cancer because he had elevated PSA's (normal for a man with a prostate, but not for a man without). Even scarier, he had elevated PSAs for 2 YEARS before anyone noticed. Needless to say, that was not easy for Keith. My mom sold my childhood home in June and it has since been taken over by an elderly couple with appalling taste. I'm happy to remember it as it was. Mom and her fiance (yes, now fiance) moved into their new home in June as well...just before our July trip.

So yes, so much has happened, and so much of these events I recount are told without little anecdotes that have occurred all along the way. I think the secret to good writing is certainly trying to bite off less so that entries are descriptive and more interesting, rather than a regurgitating of the past events of the last 6 months.

Lastly, we are no longer car-less. Moving to Lower Mills made us 2 miles away from the nearest Zipcar. We live next to a Shaw's, but...returning the car at night after a late evening in Dorchester isn't exactly wise. So, lucky for us Keith's parents decided they needed a 4-door car rather than the 2-door they had, and we have it! Its older (1996 Oldsmobile Cutless Supreme) but only 65K+ miles on it. And its free! So we don't have to sign up for car payments while we continue to try and save moolah. And we don't have to deal with Zipcar's ever more pitiful customer service (that's an anecdote I'll spare you from hearing).

Labels: amputation, anniversary, birthday, cancer, car, fall, Florida, hammertoe, house hunting, Lower Mills, moving, summer, surgery, Zipcar

So, here I am, another nearly 3 months later between updates.   Sorry!  Its been busy...

Labels: Boston, diet, Guitar Hero, house hunting, ICA, mortgage

So. I've really been sucking big time at this blog writing thing. And in fairness to me, I've really had no time that I'm not working madly at work, working madly at home, or piled into a heap on my living room couch with a brain made of mush.

Labels: IRS, Keith, life, new year, taxes, work

The month has been a busy one, filled with non-stop travel back to Pennsylvania and/or volunteer commitments. Therefore, I am just getting the chance to type this entry in the last 20 minutes of my lunch hour.

I read an article a few days ago that talked about how many New Englanders feel that this year's as well as the most recent years autumnal display of color has been lacking. I've been hearing that a lot lately and have to agree. This year in particular, it seemed that only parts of trees lit up with their fire-y reds, brilliant oranges, and bright yellows, while other tree limbs and other entire trees seemed to from green to a faded brown, papery mustard, or dried burnt russet color. Having grown up in the southern Allegheny Mountains of Pennsylvania, I know something of leaf peeping--but even at home the leaves seemed to lack some of the former splendor I remember vividly from my childhood. Some of my favorite trees in my yard, more than three hundred years old, were felled during my college days due to disease and age, and so, perhaps its just that I'm missing my favorite red oak in our backyard.

Bedford County has been suffering a bad drought the last few years, this year being the worst--Boston's been luckier to have some late summer and early fall rains, but not much more than my hometown. When I was growing up, every summer night almost was filled with torrential thunderstorms on hot and humid summer days (and most of them were hot, sticky, and muggy) and most Indian summer nights. I used to sit in the bay window of the living room eating popcorn and watching Evitts Mountain to see the lightening striking at various points across the night sky.

The lackluster leaves seemed to be a parallel representation of my life this month which has had its brilliant sparkling bits, but was otherwise blase, sometimes decidedly frustrating in its discouragement. Sure, it started out nice enough with the chapters meeting in Lancaster for Franklin & Marshall on Sept. 29-30, and then my birthday, and then my trip to Bedford October 3-8. Regrettably, I found through that my stress levels in getting my work done betweens days off and a burdening workload, home errands run, packing and unpacking, the added expense of all these trips, and having exhaustion as my frequent companion overshadowed much of the enjoyment I typically feel in this favorite season of the year.

It was Tuesday last week sometime when I commuted home feeling utterly frustrated and near weeping, in the twilight (yet again, even though my day's supposed to end at 4 p.m.)--angry yet again that my plans to leave on time and reclaim some of my life had again been thwarted by a lack of planning and not seeing any way out of not having exhausted evenings for the next 5 months. It was windy and the skies were almost purplish owing to the late hour of the day and the hazy clouds that had blown in. The leaves on the broken sidewalks below me seemed to almost take on an otherworldly brilliance--the leaves became peach, mint, saffron, white, soft scarlet, and soft chartreuse---the dim light contrasting with the duller color of the leaves and making something very soft and beautiful. As the wind blew, and the glinting leaves rolled across and around my legs in cascades, I felt disappointed that in some odd way, I couldn't feel any pleasure in seeing these colors and watching the leaves flutter in the breeze--all I could think about was the stress I had leaving work that day and already dreading my return the following morning.

The contrast between now and October 23, 2006, when I began my work here at HBS is startling. While no where near the level of constant pressure and stress that came with working in BU Housing, I'm definitely feeling the time is ripe for transition. I have yet to have a job that leaves me feeling, well...intellectually fufilled. Perhaps my expectations of the "real world" are just too high coming out of a liberal arts college education topped off with a master's in education. I don't know. In meeting with Suzanne, a career development guide at HBS, she agrees that I'm way overqualified for what I do. I'm glad someone does. I can't help but worry that the concept of starting low, working hard, and being promoted at work is going the way of the dinosaur. My greatest fear is that by doing this work, which my faculty really appreciate, that I'll become pigeonholed and be seen as completely unable to step up for greater things--and I know I can! There must be more to work life.

Since then, I've thought about the leaves I saw around me on the broken sidewalks of Allston on that smoky Tuesday autumn night and their meaning--nearing darkness and dullness inadvertently colluding to create something that looked so soft and yet so vibrant at the same time. Is there a meaning or a metaphor to be glanced from this? Or is it just something beautiful, just like all the other something-beautifuls of no particular significance?

Labels: autumn, Bedford, Boston, busy, drought, fall, October, stress

So I needed something mindless to do and took this rather tilted, not very subtle test (well, two polls--one on being a Democrat and the other on being GOP).  My results were:

You Are 8% Republican

If you have anything in common with the Republican party, it's by sheer chance. You're a staunch liberal, and nothing is going to change that!

and...

You Are 88% Democrat

You are a card carrying Democrat, and a pretty far left one at that! There's no chance anyone would ever mistake you for a Republican.

If I was to ante up a guess, it'd probably be something like 70% Democrat/30% Republican. Oh well.

Labels: Democrat, political philosophy, poll, Republican