The ship has sunk

"The ship is sinking" is a phrase that my AP Stats teacher, and renowned One Day, One Room hero Ms. Trenholm, often said to me during my final weeks as a senior at Watertown High School. It was referring to the general wheels-falling-off of her classes, the students in them, and the work that was (or wasn't) being produced. I remember her telling me that I somehow found a way to keep my own ship afloat, which surprised me, because I felt that I had absolutely nothing to fear or care about in my waning days as a high school student. Now that my last day (singular) as a college student is tomorrow (well, last class, at least), I've come to the conclusion that the ship has sunk. And it did a long time ago. I don't remember when, I don't remember how, but I can wholeheartedly say that I've just lost it. I mean, this is my 17th year of schooling! I couldn't tell you three things I've been doing for 17 years.

Three years and three days ago, I blogged about the last two weeks, and how we shouldn't just let the wheels fall off. I'd like to completely rescind that advice. Maybe it's being a senior, but it's totally time to just screw it. (Actually, I definitely think it's the whole senior thing. I've never felt this way until this year.) The last couple of weeks are upon us, the days will (hopefully) be bright and sunny and warm, and the time between now and May 18 will (hopefully) be filled with nothing but the best times. Everyone said that college was the best four years of your life - I've never really contemplated whether or not that was true, but I definitely want to make these next 18 days the best 18 days I've had in a while. (And for the record, every 18-day span should be the best in a while, but maybe this one can be extra special.) And for that to happen, the ship has to sink. Starting with (ironically enough) watching Superbad tonight. Good start to the beginning of the end.

The Earth is not a cold dead place / Boston Strongest, pt. 4

I have a confession - after having lived in Watertown since I can remember (age 3, if you're keeping score at home), and having gone to Red Sox games with my dad for almost just as long, I went to my first Patriots' Day game today, and went to see the Boston Marathon for the first time ever. Two events that I would have loved to experience before today, but also two events that I want to experience every year after this. It's just so special to be in Boston on Marathon Monday, and I've always known that today was a sacred holiday in Boston and Massachusetts, but it was so much more the case this year. The world seemed to stop for a little and focused in on Boston, and a year removed from last year's Marathon, today was all about celebration. It was as nice a day you could ask for. The Red Sox represented with their 'BOSTON' jerseys, starting what will hope to be yet another tradition every third Monday in April. The winner of the men's division of the Marathon was the first American to finish first since 1983. Fenway went nuts when he was shown on the Jumbotron, and Fenway was nuts all morning/afternoon long. It felt like an October game because of all of the energy at the ballpark and in the city, and as much as I had thought about the tension on this day, on the potential levels of being scared, it all went away when you were just there, standing on the railings. The number of runners moving past you stopped no more than their own legs did, always moving one step closer to the finish line.

As much as Boston Strong has kept up, as much as the Red Sox and the city have supported each other, as much as we were all anticipating the 118th Boston Marathon, I think we can close the book on this chapter. It's certainly something that will never be forgotten, and every Marathon Monday and Patriots' Day game will be special, but today, one year removed from last year's events, was even more special, even more surreal because of the love and strength that was shared between everyone. The Earth is not a cold dead place.

Boston, this is for you

What a year.

I know that the one-year anniversary of the 2013 Boston Marathon is tomorrow, but it's close enough to a year and I feel too strongly to wait until tomorrow to blog. One year...

I've lived in Watertown for as long as I can remember, and I've always considered the town to be right outside of Boston. And it is, I mean I don't live in Boston, I live in Watertown. But four days after the Marathon, five days, one month, six months and fifteen days, one year minus one day, I've felt that I'm part of Boston, that we're part of Boston. This is our city, as David Ortiz said, albeit with a modifying adjective that I've excluded. It's just been a special year to have been from the city, to be at Fenway Park and the TD Garden and on Boylston street. It's hard for me to even find any words that can adequately explain the pride that the city has, that I have, because I think it's something you can't put into words. All of the response to the Marathon has been through actions, with the National Anthem at the Bruins game, with Nava's home run, with all of the stories of runners helping those injured, with all of the efforts made by the city to come together as one. And for the next week, we'll remember those lost, honor those who played their role, and continue to grow stronger.

I hope they televise everything they possibly can in prison so Dzhokhar Tsarnaev can see just how strong the city is, so he can see National Anthems being sung and sports games won and most importantly, people running and completing the marathon. I want him to see that life goes on, even if it may not for him. I want him to see that all of the love that will be shared in the next week, all of the love that has been shared in the past year, is infinitely greater than the hate he spread last April 15.

It's going to be a special week, one filled with lots of emotions. When it all comes down to it, the pervading theme is strength, and it's because of the pride that everyone has for Boston and what it means to them. It's just special. I probably only said half of what I wanted to, but just take all of this in for yourself. Videos about the Marathon and what has happened since just reinforce the notion that this is our city and our home.

The Great Flood

Yes, I know I haven't blogged in a long time. No, this post doesn't have anything to do with any actual floods - just the sense that the Great Flood lasted 40 days, and there are 40 days until graduation. Not that I'm counting, but I'm just aware. (Strangely enough, I'm aware of the number every day....maybe I am counting....) So here are 40 thoughts (and you thought 10 was a lot) about having 40 days left until graduation, in no particular order, with way more brevity than I would have had this only been a post with 10 thoughts. OH wait I have an idea. Continuous stream of thoughts! To hell with lists of 40.

[1] Forty days doesn't seem like a long time, but [2] if you think about it for a while, it kinda does. [3] What's scary about it is that classes end in 23 days, and [4] that doesn't seem like a long time. [5] Especially not when I have a major assignment in each of my four classes remaining. But I guess that's okay because [6] to date, I don't think I've had any major assignments in any of my four classes. Which means [7] I've had plenty of time to do absolutely nothing this year, [8] and that's really awesome. Some words on my final end-of-a-Stonehill-year blog post - [9] I know what the title is already. [10] And I might have mentioned that before, but either way, [11] I know that's going to be an incredibly emotionally-charged post. I mean it kinda has to be, [12] considering that that's likely my last post ever from Stonehill. [13] I wonder how many times I've blogged at Stonehill....[14] probably a lot.

[15] One thing I've thought about this year is how I'll stay in touch (or not) with people throughout my class. [16] I have almost no contact with the Stonehill Class of 2011, running-into contact with the 2012ers, and every-once-in-a-while conversations with those who graduated last year. [17] But what about my own class? I think what will happen is that everyone will drop down a level. What I mean by that is [18] there are the people I know of in my class, that I don't talk to a lot, and I probably will give them a passing hello if I ever see them again. [19] Then there are the folks who I talk to every once in a while, and will have catchup conversations if our paths cross. [20] The people who I hang out with (but aren't my closest friends) I'll keep in touch with - probably [21] to the same extent that I'm in touch with the Class of 2013. And then [22] I'll keep in solid touch with those I've been close to for four years. [23] But what's interesting about this is that none of us have ever communicated with each other as Stonehill alum. [24] That's a cool thought, to be an alum. [25] I remember in high school thinking that it didn't really mean a lot to me, [26] but then my friends and I visited (as alum) and it definitely felt a little different. [27] I'm guessing Stonehill will be the same kind of thing, but perhaps a little more amplified.

[28] I haven't freaked out about graduation yet. [29] I'm not sure if I'm supposed to or not, but [30] there are honestly some things I won't miss about Stonehill. [31] Real small petty things though, like email and struggles in the cafe and other things that really don't matter in the grand scheme of things. [32] Stonehill has still been more than excellent to me, [33] and I've done what I can to return the favor. [34] Being aware of that give-and-take with Stonehill is something that's been going on since freshman year ([35] at least, I'd like to think it's been that long), and [36] will continue after I graduate. [37] But I'm not looking ahead to the end ([38] despite what this blog post may imply). [39] Right now is all that matters, [40] and I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.