| the Journal | the Cult of Saint Cecilia

October 22, 2003.
I like the mornings at Whitney's apartment. She's a med student at Harvard, and tends to be up till 3am every morning computing vectors and gravitational pulls (I didn't know you had to go through physics to study medicine... is that why they're called "physicians"?). The apartment itself is in a small alcove on the side of her building, with ground level windows and much ado about ivy, so there's very little sunlight that filters in.

Every "morning" (noonish), Whitney goes through a waking up ritual of cereal and shower. I enjoy tapping at my laptop as she checks the news. Heather tends to stay horizontal a little bit longer, and curls up against me as I type. I feel bad because my elbow sometimes hits her nose.

All in all, Boston has been beautifully calm.

Whitney herself - well, I've met a LOT of preachy vegetarians, a lot of Greenpeacers, a lot of save the world types. It was a common creature to inhabit the halls of art school.

I'm very impressed with Whitney, because she Lives it. I haven't seen ANYTHING consumable in her apartment that isn't recyclable (and she's good about recycling) or organic (including the dishwashing soap) or Seventh Generation (Heather even noticed reuseable items of a more personal nature - very committed). I have never run across ANYONE who LIVES it before. Like I said, very impressed.

The preachier a vegan, the more likely he's going to make a comment like "oh, but I've just ALWAYS worn leather shoes" - the more someone yells at you about recycling the more likely they forget to take out the bin and eventually just let it go out with the trash - and the more someone bitches about conservation, the more likely they own a really old, foul-smelling, oil-leaking, gaz guzzling lemon from the 70's.

Not that I'm bitching, you understand. I'm just impressed with Whitney. She's silent, and she leads by excellent example.



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