You don't need a car in Boston

At least that's what they tell me. I am about to find out if it's true.

My car, a Mercury Sable (American car. 'Nuff said.) failed the Massachusetts state inspection. See inspection information here. The mechanic said something about the windshield wipers and the fantastic chunk of rust over the back tire. It looks like this:




Yes, that is a LEAF stuck in the hole.

The mechanic was very sweet. He asked me why I wanted an inspection in August when it wasn't due until October (I didn't). "We won't do an inspection then but I have to tell you that it failed."

My stomach dropped. Every year since I've moved to the state I've worried that my car would fail. This year, though, Massachusetts instituted new regulations, and a rust hole violates the safety standards. I had the option of getting body work done on the rust for around $400-$500 (I asked about just cutting off the rust, but that's apparently a WORSE violation because of the sharp edges). My 16-year-old car is only worth $500. At least it was, until it failed the inspection. I'm not inclined to have $500 worth of work done on it. Plus, my used-car-principles require me not to have body work completed on a 16-year-old, $500 car.

So I'm getting rid of it.

It's been a great car for me, carrying me around in Detroit, Colorado, and Massachusetts for eight years. But nothing lasts forever and that's especially true for American cars. (I'm not unpatriotic and I'm loyal to the Motor City, but if I'm going to spend thousands of dollars on an automobile I want it to be reliable and to stand up to the driving test. Also the state inspection test.)

I'm living and going to school in Boston, home of the oldest subway system in the nation. I live a block from the green line, which takes me straight into the center of Boston and to school. Which takes me to the blue line, which arrives at the airport. Which takes me to the red line, which runs from the South Shore (Braintree, Quincy, UMass Boston) through Cambridge and into Alewife. Which takes me to the orange line, which runs through Chinatown. I won't even delve into the fantastic bus system.

So I'm getting rid of the Sable. This relieves me of the stress of city parking, the expense of car insurance, and the worry that any minute my automobile is going to break down and require another expensive repair. As I've previously posted, I'm getting rid of stuff and this item is the most expensive thing to go. (It turns out that in the previous post I also wrote about the stress of owning a car in the city. Problem solved.) I'm about to test the adage that 'you don't need a car in the city.'

I'll keep you updated.


Please see my original post here: http://lauramcwilliams.wordpress.com/2009/08/18/you-dont-need-a-car-in-boston/

Loafing in Beantown

I've been invited to a scholarship recipients' luncheon at Suffolk. Following the luncheon I'm to have my photograph taken for the student directory. Business attire required.

My plan is to wear a white blouse and black pants. That's business attire, right? I hope so, because that's what I'm wearing. Which brings multiple equations to the fore.

1. White blouse + food (luncheon) = fiasco
2. Standing up while wearing a stained white blouse = mortification
3. How did I end up deciding to begin a career that requires BUSINESS ATTIRE? I, of baggy jeans and sneakers, = scarcely prepared for this.
4. Shoes. My past shoe choices have always been driven by comfort. For this event I will be wearing black loafer-type shoes, which are not entirely foot-merciful. How did I end up deciding on a career that includes wearing LOAFERS? Feet = never cushioned again.
   
5. Hot. It's August in Boston and therefore hot and humid. White blouse + [camisole] + pants + socks + loafers +subway + Boston + August + subway = disaster.
   

Even after all this I've got my fingers crossed that my attire will indeed be business (enough) and I will neither be over- nor under-dressed.

Loafers be damned. Seriously; damn those loafers.

Update, Agust 6, 2009. My sources tell me that my white blouse/black pants combination is not, in fact, business attire. I need to buy a suit. This thing just keeps getting worse.

States and states

No one's more surprised than I am. I survived the weekend.

My twin sister left Boston last week. The grief I felt seemed unbearable; I didn't believe I could survive the sadness. My twin sister was gone and that loss felt permanent. I was suddenly alone.

Then my aunt called to make sure I was ok and my mom sent flowers. Jenna sent periodic text messages. I have a small family, but the small size just increases the percentage of people in it who care. [x=100/(5-ish/3)]. (Or, more probably, somewhere around 100%.)

But next the fear set in. This family is now focused in the midwest, and I'm living all the way in the fingers of the country. Massachusetts is far away from everything I know--very far from southern Michigan. It's...backward. Jenna is the brave one and I should have been the twin to stay home. My older sister is having her first baby and I wanted to be there for that. My birthday's not far away and then comes Thanksgiving, and Christmas. I should be living in that soft, bright mitten. Instead I'm hanging from my ankles (Harry Potter spoiler alert) in a room by myself. LIBERACORPUS.

However.

Today is Monday and I'm calm. The people who know me know this isn't my normal state. Panic: probably; tears: of course; anxiety: most definitely. But not calm. (Though stress is making my hair fall out at an alarming rate. More on that in a later post.)

Law school starts in two weeks and I have plenty to do before August 18. There are backpacks to try on and loads of textbooks to buy. And even in Beantown there are flowers to remind me that I'm not alone.

I hate today

I don't even know how to approach this, so I'll just launch into it.

My sister's leaving today. She's moving from Boston to Bloomington, Indiana, where she will begin a doctoral program at IU. I'll be staying in Beantown to begin my law studies at Suffolk University Law School.

We spent six of our adult years living together; eighteen of our childhood years. We lived in Michigan first, then Colorado, where we could see the Rocky Mountain foothills from our house. Four years ago we walked the Freedom Trail and found an apartment in Massachusetts. We packed a Uhaul and drove halfway across the country with all of our stuff in the back and a car dragging behind. This year we rented separate moving vans, both small and neither towing a car.

Jenna's my go-to person. When I'm hurting or sad or lonely or happy; when I have good news or bad or anything in between my first thought is: I have to talk to Jenna. We're twins. I wouldn't know if our relationship is stronger than others'. I'd [unavoidable cliche] run into a burning building for her. Now that she's leaving I feel like I'm standing in a burning building alone. First thought: I need to tell Jenna that I'm standing in a burning building alone.

Breaking Down

I may be breaking down.

I already live in the Boston area--on the south shore--but will be moving closer into the city this summer. My twin sister, with whom I've lived for six years, will be moving to Indiana in August. I'll be living alone in a studio apartment that costs $1050 a month to rent. I'll be keeping my car, which means I'll likely be regularly searching for parking on a car-filled street, and I'm not very skilled at parallel parking. I need to open an account at a new bank and arrange for Internet service. My cellphone contract is ending and I'll have to arrange for a new one. I don't own a television and while I'd love to go without one I still sometimes like to relax in front of a television show now and then. My new apartment is tiny and so I'm currently purging my life of stuff I've collected in the last few decades.

Oh; and I'm beginning law school in August.

All of this is pushing me past the brink of panic. I have some normal doubts about my ability to succeed in law school along with apprehension and uncertainty about my decision to move into the city. I'm also mourning the loss of my things, even though it's clear to me now that I've collected way too much stuff. I'm heartsick that my sister is leaving and I'm unsure about whether I'll be able to pay all my bills next year.

I'm trying to take things day by day but anxiety attacks are coming regularly now. Compared to this, the LSAT was a piece of cake.

Note: This blog was changed to include the correction "I'm heartsick." The original text included the phrase, "I'm very sad that my sister is leaving," which was corrected.