Ok I feel like updating again, a lot, so I was conscientious.
So far my summer has been books & small trips & visiting friends & more general delaying of the summer job.
First was D.C. We visited my cousin Andy in our nations capital, home to one of the biggest class divides worldwide- where the FDR memorial quotes fall on deaf ears. I love rampant inconsistency, it helps me imbalance my own life. For instance, I partook in a free meal at Andy's job, presenting us with 6 bottles of wine & racking upwards of $700 on liquids alone. There was no slovenly drunkenness at our table, only heavenly weightlessness & a beaming wine connoisseur. Andy makes a killing there, entertaining the Tom Daschle's and the Greta VanSestern's & the players on the Hill. It appears these D.C. politicos really live on the edge with all their thankless public servicing...
Next was an outdoor ecology lab. This was a week of identifying trees & water creatures & tripping around in full body weighters, followed by nights of wine-o training by my crazy aunts who hosted me for the week.
And then there was memorial weekend at our cottage & Rhubarb pie making & water frisbee. Saw my old aunt Betty there. She's a cross between a baby bird & the human-turned-plant creatures outside Ursula’s house in the Little Mermaid. She spoke about cricket collecting methods during her childhood between adjusting her portable oxygen tubes.
"Haaay doodles and whore baths, endless hay doodles and whore baths...."
And now, I'm officially home for a few weeks, and it's strange. For instance, yesterday was Brian Stafford driving by in an ice cream truck, & so I rode around illegally with the ice cream man for a while, blasting the talking heads to drown out the incessant ice cream song. Eventually we stopped at Hawkins to reel in the tee-ballers, & Charlie Reuben came rolling by on his golf-cartie thing. As you can imagine, there's not much work to be done grounds keeping at Hawkins, & so he discussed his operational warfare class with us, pausing excitedly to share ways of boosting Brian’s overall ice cream profit as they came to him. Strange.
There is no place like home, and none of my varied residencies fit the bill anymore. The main questions are what now, where the hell to and will that place ever soften this cognitive dissonance, rising in proportion to my inconsistenies like a pan-armored boy in the kitchen.
I'm woooordy.
*Summer>*!!