almost like the wooden puppet

The trouble with living in Cambridge is that it’s close enough to NYC to make me feel compelled to come in for little family events, but far enough that it’s a pretty big hassle to travel there in middle of the semester. I almost didn’t come in this time, but at the last minute, I purchased a return plane ticket as a sort of incentive to make the trip seem more manageable, to avoid missing my once-a-week class, and to reduce my sense of anxiety that too much time that should be spent starting my thesis would be lost on the Chinatown bus. So I bussed in yesterday, flew back this morning, am completely backlogged with work, very tired, and feeling guilty that my father insisted on reimbursing me for the flight (which I did my best to refuse, since I could have very well taken the bus, but justified flying with the thought that it was a good enough way to waste my own money, though not necessarily someone else's...), but it was all worth it just to see my 3-year-old brother, with his freshly cut hair, check himself out in the mirror, smile at his reflection, and exclaim, "I'm a boy!"