Inadvertently Found Places Close To Waltham

My significant other thinks I'm veering off course here by talking about non-Waltham places, do you?

One place close by is Walden Pond, which I inadvertently found within a week of living in Waltham. I got lost driving in what I thought was still Waltham and literally ended up at the North Bridge in Concord (where the shot heard 'round the world was fired). Then on my way back to Waltham, I noticed a beautiful lake on my right. Pulled into the parking lot and saw a sign welcoming me to Walden Pond!

Did you know you can swim in Walden Pond? I mean, sure, you can go have transcendental thoughts in the surrounding woods. Or you could don a thong and sunbathe on the beach. They even have a roped off area for kids and a lifeguard. It's a pretty large place, actually.

I explained to my little boy the amazing significance of the place. He didn't really quite get it, but he sure likes to swim and thought the statue of Thoreau was pretty cool. There's a replica of his cabin there also. So, every time we went there we had to pay a visit to "Henry Davin Fro" and his house.



Hi Mr. Fro!

Old Waltham-ites with Attitude

Oh sweet old folks sitting outside ye olden folks home eating thy 4th of July picnic. What's that you say? You want us to offer us some watermelon! How lovely!

Oh wait, what's that you're saying?

"Ya can't pahk heah! Ya can't pahk heah!"

We simply couldn't find anywhere to park within a few miles of the fireworks on the 4th of July! My darling little 5 year old just wanted to be part of the action and maybe buy a glow-in-the-"dahk" necklace!

We were caught way off guard by the crescendoing "ya can't pahk heah's" and the shaking of multiple elderly fists. I'm glad that you all were able to present a united front. One pissed off human can be laughed off. A dozen 85+ year olds with voices and fists raised, not so much.

We hauled ass out of that lot before you could catch us, though. Ha!

Waltham - Exotic and Patriotic!

I had never lived on my own with my little boy before, having spent the first 3 years of his life sheltered by my parents. It was scary for a bit, but when I finally found my groove of juggling him and 5 hours of statistics homework each night, I began to relax. Not really. But I got by with a little help from my friends.

One girl and I made up the "Appalachian Power Team" in our small class of 30 students. Except she was actually from suburban DC. But, we did bond over that sort of common shared regionality and a love of Marlboro Lights. We would venture into Boston for a trip to the MFA or to Concord to frolic around Walden Pond. This helped put things in perspective.

My boy started pre-school and half the kids were from other countries, which was awesome--especially having come from 99% American-born Caucasian WV. My neighbors across the hall were from Sri-Lanka! There were 3 Indian restaurants down the street from me! I reveled in the new-ness of it all. I became more cosmopolitan through osmosis.

There are signs all over Waltham for things like: George Washington slept here, or Paul Revere ate here. They're totally unassuming metal signs and nobody notices them (I think) except me! Houses have little signs saying when they were built (1700s, 1800s!)

The sheer history surrounding me makes me feel important. You can feel the ghosts here.

Introduction - The Waltham Pull

My aspirations were somewhat limited. Armed with a degree in Art History from WVU and a 6 month old baby boy, the first of many magical events leading me to Waltham revealed itself in a job listing in the Clarksburg Telegram one cold January evening. Habitat for Humanity seeks Resource Coordinator. Well, that certainly sounded fancy and I figured I could coordinate some resources, so I borrowed my mom's navy blue polyester blazer and set out for my first proper interview. Sure, I'd done the McDonald's route (actually was banned from ever working there again--more on that later), but this was the big time.

Whooo! I landed it, despite blushing, hyperventilating, and only vaguely remembering my vague answers to some pretty vague questions. I was christened into the AmeriCorps*VISTA program in early March and began my proud work in an abandoned tire store with a whopping salary of 750 bucks a month! Full time!

Fast forward 2.5 years. I was still a VISTA and vaguely pondering grad school, when lo and behold! An informational postcard from the Heller School of Social Policy from Brandeis comes addressed to me in the mail. This was entirely unsolicited and was part of a campaign to recruit VISTAs into their MBA in nonprofit management program. I applied, just for fun, and somehow was accepted!

MBA? Moi? It didn't even really occur to me until I got there that I would have to be taking courses in statistics, economics, friggin corporate finance, and more. I zoned in on the phrase "nonprofit management" and everything else faded into the blue, until statistics started, of course.

20 pounds lost (thanks to anxiety) and the acceptance that I'd actually be paying 1500/month for rent later, I hopped into my chevy cavalier and moved 5 states away to WALTHAM with my sweet 3 year old boy. My parents sure didn't want us to leave. Not yet, anyway, but I could feel that Waltham pull.

And it won't let me go.