Specious Lesbo and the Seahorse She Rode In On...

Hi.

Geez...I don't know how to say this, but...well...it's over.

This evening, my aunt and uncle will drive me up to Boston and put me on a plane bound for hot, humid, and oh so pleasant Houston, Texas. I've been pouting mostly about leaving the gorgeous fall weather of New England for the nasty 100 degree, hurricane ravaged Gulf Coast...

I know...I know...Austin's better...it's not Houston...but it's still fucking hot...and if it's anything like last year, it'll go directly from fucking hot to cold, grey, drizzly and miserable. But, I'm optimistic that this year will be better...dear god...hopefully. I'm so out if it's not...I can't do another 3 months of grey...not again.

Actually, I don't want to leave. I feel like I'm being forced to leave summer camp and go back to school. But, I know it'll all work out...and I miss my friends...and Kitty Bojangles and Cat B...and I think I can say I did some stuff in the past three months. I talked about some of it here, but not everything because I generally feel like writing here is a waste of time. I always argue with myself about that...on one hand, I like doing it, but on the other, I'm not really sure what I've accomplished when I look up from typing and I've been at it for 3 hours...but, anyway, outside of wasting my time, I really do feel like I did lots of things...even if it was just countless hours of thinking.

I also learned lots of things...about my family, about life in small town and the origins of America (well, I've already learned a lot of these things, but I forget the details...and I seem to have a different mind-set every time I revisit it...)...and, of course, myself...I'm sure I'll forget most of this stuff as soon as I set foot in Austin, but whataya gonna do...

Here...I'm going to try to parse out some details about what I've learned and experienced in the past few months...read on if you feel so compelled.

A Few Things About My Family

• I have a first cousin, once-removed who died seven years ago in Thailand under mysterious circumstances. Nobody knows why he was there...or how he died...it's very shady. It's rumored that he was into cocaine trafficking in New Bedford and that he showered my great aunt Mae with random gifts like a new Singer sewing machine, yet he never seemed to be employed. How morbidly fascinating...no?
• My grandfather was a maritime lawyer before he was a judge. Neat. I didn't know that. I wish he were still around so I could ask him what it was like to deal with the likes of scoundrel pirates (arrrr.....), curmudgeony sailors, and briny fishermen. Although, I don't remember him being very cheery fellow, so he'd probably just tell me to "...mind you're own business and stick to what you're good at...getting me another scotch!"
• Well, that's it for right now...there's more and I'm sure it'll come up later.

Random Observations of a Displaced Texan in New England

• * The food. I've eaten LOTS of fish and seafood and I could be very happy if I could eat as much seafood for the rest of my life. In general, the food is ridiculously bland. If someone warns you, "Whoa there! Better watch out...that quahog is spicy!" make sure you completly ignore them.
• * The town folk around here seem to be a lot more healthy (again, in general) than us beer chuggin' southern. The 50+ year olds are always talking about hiking, skiing, sailing, biking, etc rather than what was on "Who Wants to Marry a Midget?" the other night...but, I realize this is a very skewed observation...the people in this town also have a lot of money...and, money seriously helps with health and happiness...without a doubt.
• * 90 degrees is as hot as the abysmal flames of the deepest depths of hell...
• * if there's not a city/state public official indicted for some slight of hand, just wait a minute...
• * the Sox suck...the Sox rule...the Sox don't really matter as long as somebody's beating the Yankees...the Sox RULE this inning! GO MANNY! Oh god.. the Sox suck....can I get a Sam Adams, oh, and who's playing the Yankees?
• * In a small New England town: Your mom went to high school with the postman, the bartender, the judge, the policeman, the harbormaster, the owner of the deli, the museum curator, the avon lady, the pastor....really? Well, your grandmother played bridge with the inn owner, the ladies of the Junior League, the wife of the dentist, the daughter of the obstetrician....no, you don't say....Oh, well, your grandfather golfed with.......
• * Take all those people, stir in their children, cousins and siblings, half-brothers and in-laws...put them in a kitchen...and you'll have MY CO-WORKERS!
• * Gay is ok....as long as you're not my Yale educated son and you don't talk about it personally. Mind your own business. Where's my scotch?
• * Wicked.

and America?

• * our Pilgrim forefathers (or, at least YOUR Pilgrim forefathers...I'm a 3rd generation American...I'm not even sure why I care so much about this shit)...first landed in Provincetown, MA, checked out the scene...then decided to move onto the more fruitful lands of Plymouth, MA...if they only would've waited 300 years to see the "fruitfulness" of Provincetown. Huh huh.
• * There's a whole lot of defunct business up here that once made the urban centers of the northeast bustling, prosperous cities...whaling and textile production being the top two. These days, there are just a lot of empty mills being turned into swank loft apartments or demolished to make room for a Home Depot. In my opinion, whaling is the more absurd of the two. There was an entire business, lifestyle, and culture that sprung up around this giant mammal that was thought to be plentiful and inexhaustible resource...not too mention a plethora of fun sayings (thar she blows!) and bored, whale men art...yeah, well, that didn't last long (I actually opted out of visiting the numerous whaling museum this time around, so this is my "fact" telling)...150 years, maybe? So, if you'd like to see what oil cities might look like in 150 years, visit a coastal New England city.

Myself...right.

• * if I'm really going to stick to this "no smoking" thing, something else needs to take the place of the many years of memories that smoking and I have together. Whenever I hear that song...or remember that time...or drink that drink...I remember the happy with a cigarette. I know I fucked it up for myself....and now I'm trying to fix it...but, it still sucks. I haven't had a cigarette in a month and I still want one daily...and, if you think of it like that...when all past happiness=smoking, it's not too motivating to quit.
• * It's possible to go a month without a cigarette!
• * I learned how to sauté seafood and much more, I didn't kill anyone (to my knowledge) and I think that I only acquired four visible scars.
• * I learned more about sailing than I ever cared to know...I've never even been interested in sailing, but now I am...so, I just need to come up with an extra $200,000 to buy that sailboat...anybody wanna give me a loan? I swear I'll pay it back...
• * What am I going to do when I get back to Austin? Hey! What's that over there?

Sometimes, I Went Places.

I think I went lots of places...but, I'm leaving today and I still haven't done all the shit that I wanted to do. So, I have to make myself feel better by listing the places I went to (or at least, remember)...and give much thanks to QP for being such a willing adventurer.

• * Just in the past week, QP took me to Springfield, Mass...New Haven, CT...Salem and Marblehead, Mass..and, of course, Manchester and Storrs, CT...my home away from home away from home, um, away from home...
• * I also went to a few places in New Hampshire, New York City, and Providence R.I.,
• * Nantucket Island, MA...hope those of you that received limericks enjoyed them, because I couldn't stop thinking in limerick rhyme and meter for two days solid.
• * Up Cape Cod to Provincetown, Dennis, and Hyannis and that little place we saw the light house atop a cliff over the Atlantic...that was pretty cool.
• * Other than that, I pretty much sat on my ass a lot.

So, there you go...

This blog will soon be put into retirement...maybe I'll go back to the BBQ...maybe I'll start something new...or maybe I'll just stop (again, with the "waste of time" thing)...we'll see. I'll link here wherever I end up..

I had fun, but summer's really really over now...I've burned my white shoes and belts in a ritual sacrifice to my aforementioned Ocean God (he likes it when the smoke reaches his heavenly home...) and, well...nothing. I guess I'm going home.

There's something that makes me uneasy about being dropped off in the middle of a college campus while the fall semester is in full effect...the undergrads all look so young...and my excessive baggage and transient demeanor keeps me from looking like a credible graduate student...it's like, I'm going to be found out or something.

I already had to endure a conversation on the bus with an 86 year old woman (who, in her own words, gets mistaken for a 55 or 60 year old all the time...yeah, me too...people frequently think I'm twelve, but I think that may be something completely different...) while she talked about her daughter who also went to UConn...where she was a nurse...and then went on to Rutgers where she became a lawyer...and now she lives on Martha's Vineyard (yeah, my disbelief settled in the moment her lips parted)...

I twice tried to tell her that I didn't actually go to UConn...I was just visiting. But, regardless, she continued with her questions about being a student a UConn. It didn't matter, really...it was a bit like talking to my mother where the questions are just posed to so she can come up with her own answers.

So, here I am...on a college campus. If I don't live within five miles of one, apparently I have to find someone who does in order to make my life complete. But, QP, the person I speak of, is still in class...so, I made my way to the student union. They have free wi-fi here...

I was looking to just settle down in one of the lounges and hang out until QP called...about an hour or so...but, when I stepped into the union's main entrance and walked down the stairs, I was greeted by a sea of bobbing ponytails and high-pitched twitters...I had walked directly into...

RUSH WEEK SIGN UP!

Ohmigod! Why didn't anyone tell me? I totally would've ditched my Spice Girls t-shirt and dressed more appropriately in a slightly above-the-knee skirt and pink Polo!

I could, you know...don't think I haven't thought about it before. There's something about some sorority girls that's despicably cute...and makes me want to curiously infiltrate their secret society (in a not in a dirty way, you pervert)...I've honestly never disliked them...I'm more fascinated, really...

But, again...my scruffy-nomad look would sooner have a sorority sister believing that I'd pitch a tepee (or, possibly, a yurt or wigwam...I'm not sure what kind of drifter I'd make either...) in the student union than sprint for the Rush Week sign up sheet...

I only had to endure a couple of analying looks...and then they let me through.

Ok.

I know my life doesn't have much merit to speak of, but I've been listening to my cousin and his girlfriend argue about Star Trek all afternoon. Everything from how Wil Wheaton's acting ability has varied over the seasons to how they are going to base the one activity (going to the grocery store) around the numerous daytime showings of Star Trek.

My cousin is not a dim-wit...he plans on going to the University of Chicago's law school.

I just had to share that.

Sure, I may be looking up facts about motorbikes...and figuring out how I can delay any responsibilty and mental work even further...but...

Jesus...I've got to do something with my life...and soon...it's painful...I seem to just keep saying that though.

I did go to Nantucket for two days this week...that was pretty cool. Beats watching Star Trek all day. Maybe I'll give a photo blog tour if I get around to it...seems whenever I stop physically moving, I get lazy and don't want to do anything...even think.

You wanna know what's NOT funny? Fran Drescher in "The Nanny". No. Not even in that one episode where...I don't want to hear about it.

You wanna know what IS funny? Overheard at the Office...and hey, now that I think about it, I think I've made a cameo there lately...imagine that.

And now, imagine this...only the first half of the Overheard quote is accurate. The other half was made up by Q. Pontiffa after we discussed the matter-of-fact way the gentleman talked about his deceased wife (or at least we presumed it was his wife...). This alone was funny enough but, QP thought it would be a lot funnier if the counter clerk asked him "for how long?" Because, well, it would've been...

So, truth be told, two lies were had. Not only is that pretty much a made up conversation, but I wasn't even the one who came up with the "what if..." answer. It was QP...despite my claiming it on another's blog...shame on me.

This is the internet, damnit...telling nothing but the truth for over 10 years now...or at least since Al Gore invented it...when was that again?

I haven't felt much like writing or talking lately, or rather, my brain hasn't felt much like paying attention to anything for more than five minutes lately...I hate that.

For the majority of my conscious life, I've felt like I've unwillingly dragged my brain around like a small child on a humiliating leash...mom needs to go buy the new designer shower curtains at Crate and Barrel...child kicks...shrieks...arms-a-flailing..."NoooOOOooooo! I don't wannnnna goooo!!!" That's ok though. I found that beer usually alleviates my brain's condition...I don't know why my mom didn't come up with that solution when I was little...

So...anyway. I had a pretty good week last week. I didn't leave town and I hung out with my family...both my aunt and uncle took the week off of work in preparation for my cousin's wedding that took place on Saturday. I went sailing (and, yes, I made sure to mentally sing the Christopher Cross song the whole time). Hung out...got a pedicure...which was quite an unpleasant experience. Sure, my toes are pretty now, but this woman banged on my shins trying to pull of some sort of "massage" façade...about all this did was conjure up the spirits to all my past injures...most notably, the massive shin injure I received back in April when I was very painfully kicked by a roller skate. Ouch. And, apparently, still ouch. I think I might have fracture something that I chose to ignore...oh well. I think I'll just have to continue to ignore it.

The wedding was awesome. I don't feel like going into too much detail now (reference the first paragraph)..but it was outdoors in Rhode Island and it was the most beautiful wedding I've ever seen. Oh yeah....and they had the limbo, a conga line, and a DJ who played Neil Diamond AND the Postal Service. I was drunk enough to do the limbo, but the conga line is where I put my foot down. I found myself hanging out with my 60 year old aunt and uncle more than my 22 year old cousin and his friends. I tried. I keep going over to his click with my beer and trying to join their conversation. I'm hip! I can talk about the Simpsons and music! In fact, I'd LIKE to talk about these things...but, for some reason, it just wasn't working...it took about 10 minutes for me to be back at the table and talking with my uncle about American culture and politics.

I got home at 10:45 and it felt like 2 a.m....I was online and trying to figure out where I wanted to go explore the next time I had a chance. I kept hearing about how the north shore of Boston is really nice, so I thought I'd try to go there.

It's been really annoying trying to go places around here as a "budget traveler" because NOTHING is cheap. There are no hotels to stay at anywhere for less then $150 a night. But, I'm pretty dead-set on doing what I want to do despite money, so I decided (drunkenly, mind you) to take matters into my own hands. I posted an ad on the Craigslist Boston site explaining where I wanted to go and what I was willing to pay to make this happen.

I was surprised to find a number of responses in my email box the next day...I asked for a place to stay up in Marblehead or Rockport or something. I really want to go to Salem and see the witches too (last time I was there, I was 16 and going through some substance withdrawals and I kinda passed out a bit at the museum...so, I don't remember it much and I'd like to see it again). I could go up there for a day trip, but I'd be really rushed and it'd be tiring...the commute would take 3 hours both ways and I'd like to explore at a leisurly pace.

So, to wrap things up, I'm trying to set up staying at this lady's house for a night at a discounted price. I haven't really figured out how I'm going to break this news to my aunt if it ends up happening...there's no way around it, I'm going to have to lie.

Maybe this isn't the smartest thing I've ever done, but I think it'll be ok. I've emailed this lady a few time and I plan on talking to her before I go (IF I go...). She's a 31 yr old teacher in Marblehead...or so she claims...

SO. I had a dream this morning. I was at this house that I found to stay at. My host lady was standing in the hall outside of my bedroom. I was uncomfortable and I was trying to ignore the fact that she was, with beard stubble and Adam's apple, obviously a man. In my head I was trying to be open-minded. Telling myself, "Ok. This is fine. In the world of sexual identities, you're not exactly in the norm either. Quit judging...she's probably still very nice." But, I just couldn't get over it. I felt like I was slightly deceived and that something else was going on here...then, I went into my bedroom and found that there was no lock on the door. I was thinking that I was going to have to make a trip to the hardware store to get a portable lock...of course, this was a dream, and I was thinking this after I had already turned the lights off and gotten into bed. Then my door opened and the lady came in and all I could see was a large silhouette standing in the threshold...she then asked, in a really creepy voice, "Hi. Is it ok if I come in a we hang out?"

Then I woke up. This was a weird dream, because honestly, I'm not all that scared of staying a night at a stranger's house. Foreign exchange students do it all the time...people share rooms at hostels...if I were European, this would be more acceptable...I found someone to LIVE at my house off of Craigslist...

I can justify it in many different ways...but, none will work for my aunt. So, I'll post on what happens if I'm still alive.

Summer's over. If I catch you wearing white shoes, I'm going to throw fish heads at you.

That is all.

I'm high on Life!

Oh. Wait. No...that wasn't Life that I chopped up and snorted...it was Special K.

Sorry...my mistake!

God, I'm bored...I don't know why I have an obsession of joking about substance use/abuse...it's been going on since I was probably 15 years old...and it hasn't gotten old yet...well, to me anyway. Honestly, I'm truly surprised some of you people can even stand being around me after so many years...have you not noticed that my lame-ass humor material hasn't changed? If I were hanging around me, I'd be so sick of myself by now.

Sure, I'd like to visit myself every now and then, maybe every other weekend or so...slowing it down over a 10 year period to an occasional sporadic visit every 4 and a half years...but, other than that, I'd be happy with just looking back at the past time I spent with myself and reflecting, "Ahhh...weren't those times just swell? I should really try to contact myself sometime soon...but, eh...I'm sure I'm busy or something...probably with the other things...so, I don't know...I'll think about it again next month."

Do you see what I'm talking about?!?! I'm seriously wondering at what point in my life I decided to take nothing seriously...except for the stuff that I do...take seriously, that is. It's put me in this confusing, perpetual state of angst...I know there's gotta be a balance somewhere, I just haven't found it yet...

Hmmm...I WAS going to share my thoughts about Dawson's Creek that I had this evening after listening to Heather Nova's "London Rain (Nothing Heals Me Like You Do)"...but, now it's too late. That may have been more entertaining for the both of us...

Rather, you find yourself here...reading about my insecurities...how fun! I sleep now...

The Commies were outside my bedroom this morning...

I woke up to loud, growling noises that could've easily been tanks and voices yelling at each other in a foreign accent...one guy was shouting directions and the others responded with what I determined to be some sort of "affirmative." So, in my hazy, dreamy state...I just naturally assumed they were Commines.

With my head still under the covers, I started to concoct a plan of escape...

...because, as we all know, Commies are deadly in any form...I've heard that if they even look at you, you immediately become one of them.

Here's the plan: I'd slyly roll off the bed using my professional-grade stealth skills and then crawl on the ground, keeping my body as flush to the floor as possible, until I got to the stairs that lead to the basement.

At that point, I'd draw my arms and legs snug to my body and tuck my head...thereby making myself incredibly aerodynamic....and slide my bullet-self down the stairs on my belly. When I hit the floor, I'd keep myself tucked, and roll, as quickly as possible, to the little cubby that the wood-burning furnace makes with the cellar wall...

Here, I'd hid for as long as necessary until my Capitalist brethren came to rescue me...

After two days of hiding in the basement, I'd remember how quickly the Capitalists leaders acted after that disastrous hurricane not too long ago, and I'd give up hope...

On day three...I'd be fresh out of ideas, having never come up with any beyond "hiding in the basement" to begin with...

....and then, they'd find me...

Before I even saw their Red faces, I'd eject myself from hiding...throwing my hands up and screaming "AAAAAAHHHHHHH COMMIES!!!" I'd make no attempt to flee.

There. That's my plan.

I spent a good twenty minutes laying in bed coming up with that...after which, I became slightly more awake and lucid and realized that the lawn care guys had come a little bit early today.

I've become great friends with the Bonanza Bus Lines and their spritely named Peter Pan (e.g. "Elfin Power", "Fawn of the Forrest", etc...) carriages this summer...so much so, that I considered offering the driver of the Hartford-Providence route the "Be Fri" half of my heart shaped "Best Friends" necklace...therefore leaving myself with the tolerable "st ends" half...

I don't know the driver's name, but, in my head, I call him "Chuck"...not that all bus drivers deserve such a distinguished name or anything, it's just that this particular one looks like a "Chuck"...mind you, not a "Charlie" or a "Charles"...so, don't get confused...this has no significance to my story, I'd just thought I'd share it. Anyway, my stories have no point, so I'll say whatever I damn well please! Yeah.

So, I ended up going to Connecticut this week, even though I said I wasn't going anywhere. I lied. I feel like I'm allowed to lie here because I've already claimed it in the blog title...so, I wouldn't want to lie by not lying...ummm...lie.

So...I was riding the bus. I like riding the bus. If it were free, I'd do it all the time...from here to there, back to here...just listening to music...reading...there's no stress of feeling that I should be progressing...no worries...usually.

This time around, I had one worry (I've come to realize since a small amount of time has passed )that I will carry with me forever...

I was enjoying my ride on Monday afternoon...Ipod and earbud headphones in my right hand and side head-holes, respectively...when a lady who was sitting a two rows and catty-cornered to me on the bus turned and waved me down. I caught the signal...I figured she had something to say to me...

Lady: Uh. Hi. Yeah...um. Could you turn down your music? I can hear it over hear and it's sort of disturbing me...huh huh...yeah.

Me: Really? You can hear it? Yeah...ok. I'm sorry.

I try to be at least semi-polite when I'm in public, so I turned my music down. But, what I really don't understand is how she heard it to begin with. My earphones fit into my ears and I was listening to Elton John...granted, I usually keep my music pretty loud so I can guarantee that I drown out the sound of chipper, barefoot hippie-women who sit in the first bus seat and conspicuously read "On the Road" while trying to discuss the merits of being-a-travelin' with the bus driver...

Maybe she's sensitive...or maybe I'm loud and obnoxious...I know KiKi Dee and Elton can really pushes those sopranos...soooo, I don't know...

But, this lady has made me forever paranoid about listening to music in public...I don't know if my average music listening volume is too loud for normal people or just annoying to bat-women. I don't want to annoy people...even the one's that are obnoxious themselves...

This seems like the appropriate time use my favorite MST3K quote: "These are the kinds of problems you want to have"