Guo: Facts Travel

by Clara Guo | 4/26/17 2:10am

Computers should easily be able to connect to Wi-Fi.

Friday, 3:15 p.m.: Class ends. I walk to the IT Help Desk on First Floor Berry. My computer has spent the entirety of 2017 throwing a tantrum over Dartmouth Secure. In other words, I cannot print my Dartmouth Coach ticket. I hope for an easy fix. I am wrong.

4:10 p.m.: After speaking to four different people, my laptop is returned to me, this time, connected to Eduroam.

I walk briskly to my dorm and throw clothes and textbooks into my suitcase.

4:52 p.m.: I arrive at the Hop for the Boston-bound Coach with eight minutes to spare.

Movies are best enjoyed with reclining seats.

7:35 p.m.: We pull into South Station. Later tonight, I am treated to dinner at Alden & Harlow in Cambridge and a movie at the AMC Theater in Assembly Row.

I’ve wanted to watch “Beauty and the Beast” for months now. It was a childhood favorite.

10:05 p.m.: At AMC, we buy a medium popcorn and two beers on tap, taking full advantage of the bar located conveniently at the entrance.

The theater reminds me of the opera. On the side, aisles are mini-boxes separated from the center seats.

If you’ve seen “Friends,” imagine how Joey and Chandler felt about their reclining armchair. This is better.

The seats are wide, allowing me to easily cross my legs. The reclining motion is surprisingly quiet and smooth, so I adjust and readjust without fear of disturbing the other movie-goers. There are cup holders on the side and a small table near the aisle. My head is at the perfect angle for the entirety of Emma Watson’s performance.

Productivity rapidly declines on a weekend getaway.

1:30 p.m., the next day: This weekend was supposed to be ripe with productivity. I was supposed to finish up a few chapters of my MCAT prep book and prepare for upcoming exams.

5:45 p.m.: When I do study, I am focused. But in a few hours, I’m meant to catch up with Anisha over drinks. I should go — I haven’t seen her in months.

Anisha spent two years after graduation working in Boston. We met during my sophomore year and bonded during her senior week. This past summer, during my internship, she became my go-to. We ordered sushi after work and drank wine while watching episodes of the “Bachelorette” and “How I Met Your Mother.” She introduced me to bars and speakeasies and fishbowls. Her apartment felt like home.

A fuf chair is an essential component of any apartment.

Next to Anisha’s couch is a fuf beanbag chair. It molds to your body and envelops you when you lie down. It’s big enough for two people to sit comfortably or three people to lie squished.

9:00 p.m.: We sit on Anisha’s fuf eating sushi, drinking screwdrivers and catching up on the past four months of our lives. She tells me about work and traveling and boys and apartment hunting for law school. I tell her about classes, skating and the current guy in my life. I promise to visit her in New York, and she promises we’ll attend spin classes together at B/Spoke when she visits me in Boston.

11:35 p.m.: We finally leave the comfort of the fuf for a Wegmans food run. We buy chips, salsa and microwavable bagel bites. We watch another episode of “How I Met Your Mother” on her mounted TV before hugging goodbye. She’s officially moving out in June. I’ll move in in September.

One should not leave at 9:10 for a 9:30 Coach.

Sunday, 8:45 p.m.: I tell myself I will wake up early to finish some work before my 9:30 a.m. Coach back to campus.

Monday, 9:07 a.m.: I do not wake up. I finish no work. I leave Boston’s South End with no time for breakfast.

9:15 a.m.: My friend’s car is parked a few blocks away from the apartment. Right as we pull out of the parking spot, a Porsche parked directly in front of us swerves into the middle of the road with its emergency lights blinking, effectively blocking us in.

According to Google Maps, ETA to South Station is 9:28 a.m. I am silently panicking.

9:22 a.m.: We pull into South Station. A few minutes later, I am seated on the bus with a water bottle and a small bag of pretzels in hand.

Stress is the most reliable travel companion.