Hahvid Squayah

Harvard Square is the quintessence of the holidays in Metro Boston. Across the river, the Frog Pond-turned-ice skating rink is a good time. Also, Faneuil Hall was where I spent a couple of fond holidays tucking the unwieldy mannequins of ATay into cashmere sweaters in the space of a window shaft as wide as your box of Chex Party Mix. But Harvard Square is where I want to be when tossing up tinsel. Every major intersection is lit with ramparts of pretty light designs that kind of look like Matisse ballerinas, but with scarves. I don't know what a rampart is, nor do I know if scarf, plural is really spelled that way. What I do know is that the Harvard Square Holiday Decorations committee does it right. The storefronts are all bright windows of tea sets and Cross Pens and bath bombs, arranged elegantly, like I imagine Piccadilly Square to look at this time of year. That's it. Harvard Square is everything that the U.S. has on consumerism and everything that Europe has on simple charms. I love it! I love it I love it I never ever ever want to move from it.


On my way to class at Harvard Square last evening, I was mid-way through the crosswalk on foot and I saw SUV Cell Phone Guy not paying attention to where he was turning. Because the only thing worse than SUV Guy is SUV Guy Dialing While Driving, I raised my arm in indignation as he attempted to barrel through the crosswalk that I was clearly traversing. Only problem was, as I raised my arm, I realized that I did not have my fingers all the way inserted into the glove, so my raised arm looked more like I was playing puppeteer, and the puppet was Foghorn Leghorn. He probably thought that was my lame attempt to give him the bird. He honked. I darted across the street and didn't look back, even though I was thinking IT'S CALLED I'M EIGHT MONTHS PREGNANT AND I HAVE THE RIGHT OF WAY, FOGHORN!! He honked again. I hope he enjoyed that manly feel he got at honking at an eight month pregnant woman waddling through the crosswalk. I hope the person on the other end of his cellphone call applauded him for honking at a pedestrian with a bowling ball belly and the right of way.

I love Harvard Square during the holidays.


I was eating dinner before class at Harvard Square last night. A group of graddy types were all angling for the table I was just getting up from and Short Asian Chick looks at me squinty-eyed. She comes over, "Hey, we met at Brian and Stephen's this weekend!" She extends her hand, "I'm Melissa." I have no idea who this person is, but I am trying to remember the weekend and if it involved anything at a Brian or a Stephen's house. The group of graddies is watching this awkward exchange go down. I shake my head, smiling, "I'm sorry, I don't think so...but nice to meet you Melissa." I love Harvard Square during the holidays.