"Sometimes I feel I've got to (clap clap) run away..."

While this post title is a reference to my karaoke escapades at Fire+Ice in Cambridge last night, I figured I might dedicate a post to a few of the things I want to run away from.

This morning, I wanted to run away from the jackhammering that the Cambridge Public Works truck has been imposing on the sidewalk two doors down from my sublet every day from 7 to 10 in the morning for the past week. I'm getting out of this place in two weeks and moving to Beacon Hill, where I'm sure there will be construction work, but I'd like to think that an apartment on the 6th floor might be more immune to the type of noises I'm hearing now. Unless there are other types of "jackhammering" going on two doors down, that is. Oh, the prospect of neighborly love.

Last week, I had a moment when I wanted to run away from the world. I was in the Museum of Fine Arts, and looking three pieces of artwork that made me feel extraordinarily small in the scheme of things (the way good art should, as I see it): one was a pop-art, collaged Buddha (Gonkar Gyatso, Radioactive, 2011), one was a black, ornamental mirror (Fred Wilson, Iago's Mirror, 2009), and the last was this metal fan, covered in an amber oil, but still oscillating. I can't find the name of the fan piece or remember the artist, but it was fascinatingly macabre and induced an unmistakeable feeling of hopelessness. I had a bit of a crisis of faith on Wednesday in response to the whole trip to the MFA.  It got me thinking about my opinions about the concept of beauty and beauty within life--not exactly small stuff to ponder at 9PM on a Wednesday night over Thai food.

Last night, I wanted to run away a few times:
The first: The one time my mind wasn't confined to the gutter, I had to be explained the meaning of "quarter chub" by former frat star and perpetual 帅哥 JPS. For someone who prides herself on knowing way too many urban dictionary terms and their meanings, definitely a let down. Or maybe that's a positive thing, as it could be an affirmation of my remaining innocence and femininity. You decide?
The second: When I heard this highly terrifying rendition of "Light My Candle" at Fire+Ice's Monday night karaoke at approximately 11PM.
The third: When witnessing my dear friend's heart slowly breaking while sitting at the Midwest Grillt as we sat in a group of seven, including the man she loves who might possibly close the book on their extensive history and even their engagement in the not-so-distant past in favor of a nice but not terribly remarkable girl who has nothing on my friend, the firecracker, JAM.

Luckily for me, this weekend I'll get to run away, and to Cape Cod, as a matter of fact. I'm finally visiting my beloved HMM, another point in the "Yente Trifecta", formed by myself, HP, and HMM. I can't wait to relive my time with at least one of them (our fun together exemplified in this video in its final portion).

In the meantime, when not pounding back pages of my professor's book, I'll be devising all the ways in which I can fix up and look sharp for a certain friend's birthday party, the dress code of which is to "impress [her]."

Challenge accepted.