I woke up this morning thinking I was snuggled in my new bed at Harvard in my spacious single in the New Quincy building. It took about five minutes of blissful half-consciousness before I realized that I was in fact snuggled in a new bed in an even more spacious double in a New Jersey beach house.
How lucky can one guy be….?*
As I was saying yesterday, being back on campus just made me so exuberently happy. There’s no truly logical reason for this, but the sun has been out, the move-in has been easy and punctuated by screams of delight upon seeing old friends (Dougie! Emmy! Judith!), plus not only is there nothing pressing to do, but I honestly cannot even remember what it’s like to have lots of stuff to get done on campus. Camp Harvard, indeed.
As I told Dave, it’s like being a Freshman all over again – everything just seems so fresh and filled with promise. It’s the junior high after the sophomore slump, I suppose.
*I’ve got a whole bunch of songs stuck in my head, and they’re mostly ones I heard sung on Friday night at Ellen’s Stardust Diner in Manhattan (which is wonderful in every way imaginable).
On Friday, with absolutely nothing to do in New York, I walked from 49th Street above Times Square to the Financial District (from Sergey’s office to Century 21, if you must know), and back again. That was a lovely long walk in glorious weather (and of course, following a proud personal tradition I was in long-sleeves and a tie, wool dress pants and leather dress shoes, naturally) which took me past many favorite haunts, like the Joseph store in the meatpacking district (where I spotted someone wearing one of those last-season Prada hats!), the Prada epicenter store in the Soho area and the colossal Strand bookstore (which I’ve actually never been in before).
I’m still completely disinterested in shopping, post-London, so I bought just one thing all day - an oversized mug to replace the one that disappeared during Meredith’s REP study break last year.
And now I’m blogging from an unbelieveably nice house by the Jersey shore (distance to beach: 40 seconds on foot) right out of the pages of Architectural Digest or Vogue Living (headline: “Classic New England with a Modern Twist, gracious and functional”). It belongs to a Din alum who had it built just three months ago – you can still smell the newness of the unvarnished hardwood floors. His jewelry-designer wife did most of the work and all the decorating, and you can tell that everything has been chosen with great care and thoughtfulness – the bathroom fixtures, the landscaping, the window treatments, everything is just right for the place. There’re 11 of us Dins here, and there are more than enough beds and bedrooms to go round without using the humongous master bedroom or any of the couches, and the entire third floor of the house is not even finished yet. There are apple trees in the backyard with ripe fruit just falling off of them (best ones are the ones that land on the enormous hammock and thus escape bruising). Loverly. Ridiculous. Perfect.
And chatting to the owner on the way to get groceries was very comforting too, in a number of ways, some of which I can’t quite explain. I asked him about his job (lawyer) and how much he enjoyed his work (7/10) and what he thought about making career and life-choices (many tradeoffs). He concentrated in Government and didn’t write a senior thesis, and now works in Manhattan but spends long summer weekends with his wife and two young children at their vacation home at Avon-by-the-Sea (he works from home on Fridays).
Ok, people are finally starting to get up. Time to go for a walk on the beach