The New England Society for Tea Fetishism

I've read about Sigur Ros in Spin so when I saw that the handy-dandy On Demand service on my cablebox offers one of their videos for viewing, I ordered it (only because it's one of the free of charge options). Very pretty, depressing, piano driven music. I think that they're Swedish or something. Nordic at any rate. I was sure that they were speaking English, but the only lyric I thought I could understand was "you saw the light." Of course, if what I read in Spin is correct, he could have been saying something like "carrot battery milkshake." Sigur Ros lyric interpretation is a hobby for some people. The video was interesting and dark, but watching a bunch of school children wearing grotesque elephantine gas masks while frolicking through a post-apocalyptic playground for six minutes just got to be too oogy for me.

I was on a walk in Witchcraft Heights today (insert Salem joke here) and while I was passing by a home with an open door I heard a deep rumbling sound, almost like a dog growl. Immediately after, I heard a mature male voice say, "Daddy!" I turned my head away and quietly cracked up. Some old guy was showing his appreciation after lunch and his son was scolding him. Too cute. I have to figure out how to put that in a story. Shortly after I came upon some shrubbery that was overgrowing onto the sidewalk. Since a car was coming I decided to push a branch out of the way instead of detouring into the street. I continued on, but the shrub didn't want to let go. Turns out it was a thorn-bush and I had one stuck in my thumb. Ouchy. So now I have a puncture and an exit wound near the base of my thumb. I look like I've been bitten by the world's tiniest vampire.

So, it's official. Maine rules and Massachusetts sucks. I'm stuck in this house with no beach down the road, no kitty, no Annie, and no Amy. I have a fishy, but it's not the same. Surprisingly, I didn't miss tv. Unless something better comes up, which is unlikely, I believe I will be spending the next summer in Bar Harbor as Amy's houseboy. I have decided that it is time to be away from home for a while somewhere other than school.

Help! I'm being held prisoner in the Moser-Harris compound in Butt-Crack, Maine, population 7. They won't let me go until I've performed twenty-three separate tasks on a list that my devious captors have....devised. And I'm being forced to eat stir-fry and cake! Please, someone has to come up here and save me! I elect Kirsten Wolle for the job. Amy Mas can drive. I don't think I can last much longer. Shit! They're comi

I'm going to Maine today! Yay!!!

Has anyone else seen Adaptation? I was really into it until the last 15 minutes or so. Then the plot turned kinda wonky and very unlike the rest of the movie. By the time I adjusted it was over. Kind of a disappointment. I think I was caught up in the fact that the film had some roots in reality, so when this really unrealistic situation popped up, I just couldn't suspend my disbelief.

You know what my new favorite thing is? Lemon sorbet and freshly mashed strawberries. Long Island has many vinyards and almost as many farm stands. We bought a basket of the most beautiful strawberries. They were like little precious hearts. And so good with lemon sorbet.

The other day it was cloudy and misty, but not very cold, with a light breeze. I was standing outside of Tracy's house (she wasn't there--my mum and I had just spent two hours visiting her mum) and the weather reminded me of this day I spent with Tracy, probably eight or ten years ago. I used to go over her house after school, and her mom would sometimes watch other kids as well. For a while she was watching the Moriarty children, Marina (my age, and she used to be my best friend before she moved out of my neighborhood) her younger sister Estella, and her even younger brother Evan. Tracy hated them. One day she'd had enough. She grabbed her dad's old army blankets, a couple juice boxes and some snacks, and we headed over to the neighbor's front yard. The Andersons were always very nice about letting us play in their yard. We ended up wegded between their shrubs and the foundation of the house, using the blankets to make a kind of tent to keep the wind out. I don't remember what we talked about, probably a lot of Moriarty hatred was vented. We ate the snacks and tried not to laugh when the mailman came by and huddled against the wind. We were out there all afternoon. It's one of my favorite days.

I saw an Australian comedian last night on the tv that called a computer a jumped-up abacus. Then there was another comedian who made a comment on how televangelists get money from people. They say things like "I spoke with Jesus last night...." Jesus had to be crucified and now he spends his Saturday nights chatting with Jerry Falwell. Does the suffering never end?

We just had the biggest effin' tv delivered to the house. It didn't look that big in the store, probably because it was surrounded by even bigger televisions, but really, it's obscene. It borders on inappropriate. Honestly, it's pornagraphic. I can't look at it without giggling.

I advise you all to go to www.snowflakes.lookandfeel.com. Use in moderation--it can be habit forming.

Long Island was nice, lots of beaches and surprisingly, lots of vineyards. Who knew? If I liked wine I'd be in hog heaven. The school is very nice as well, a lot like Hood in that it is tiny (110 acres) and I think it might be similar academically. My cute little tour guide (Matthew) was not sure if there is an allies group and seemed rather perplexed as to what PFLAG could be, but we'll see. The best thing about Southampton University, other than ocean right there, are the dorms. It's all suites that have exterior doors, like a motel, so there won't be any issues about noise in the hallway because there is no hallway. Of course, that was undergrad housing. I think grad housing might be more like an apartment building. It's four rooms (grads get their own rooms) around a common area and a bathroom. The downside--no air conditioning, although it shouldn't be too hot come September. Here's the deal: a lot of people thought that Hood was nowheresville. But Baltimore and DC were pretty damn close and there was, oh, the Montgomery mall, etc. It takes around two hours to get to NYC by train from the college. There is nothing else there. I saw one McDonald's. No Walmart. No CVS. No chain restaurants. Kind of like if Market Street just went on for about twenty miles in each direction. I'm hoping that there's a little more around than what I saw because I have to buy things like oatmeal and toothpaste. It's right next to a residential neighborhood so there has to at least be a grocery store. Now, don't get me wrong. The whole absence-of-franchise thing is quite charming and delightful, but it kinda sucks not to recognize anything. Still, I think I will be quite happy at Southampton once I make friends with some who has a car.

Ahhh....what to say, what to say? Well, I had a physical and a dentist appointment. I seem to be in good health. My teeth are great! (dentist's exclamation point. She's so chipper) except for the cavity in my very back molar *natch* I think it developed when I couldn't brush after my gum surgery and was further enhanced by all that time I couldn't open my mouth after the wisdoms came out. I finally saw my dad for the first time since graduation. He hasn't been doing too well, but he seems determined to really change this time, mostly because it'll be for himself and not for someone else. I went to a block party at my cousin Kerryann's house last night and watched a spectacular and terrifying amateur fireworks extravaganza. Sparklers are pretty. And I got to play with Kerryann's little son, Walter, who is not all that little anymore (a single tear runs down my cheek). I went to college and he grew up, so I don't get a big hug every time I see him like I do from his two older sisters. But we threw a basketball around for a while--it was like a beach ball to him--and I got my hug. Tomorrow I go to Long Island with my mum, but only for a night because Best Western is charging us $150. We're driving to Connecticut and then catching a ferry to the island. Brian will be all alone and accordingly has rented five dvds to him busy. I had a dream last night that Amy and Annie were at my house. It was so good to see you! I will be coming to Maine soon.

woo. I am tuckered out. I have been washing glue off of the kitchen walls for two hours. For the second day in a row. Oy vey, has mum put me to work. But she bought me shoes and underwear and a book, so I have no choice but to return the favor to such a generous lady. The other day when we were just pulling out of my street we saw these two women walking their babies in strollers. One of the babies was Asian. He couldn't have been more than a year old. He had a smile that went all the way across his adorable chubby little face and he was waving at us like crazy. Of course, we had to wave back. I have to tell you, that made my day.

And I have to make a retraction. In the past, I have stated that John Cusack is the poor man's Matthew Broderick. I now feel that this is unqualified. Aside from "One Crazy Summer," I feel that for most of his career Mr. Cusack has equalled or perahps even surpassed Mr. Broderick. So, since watching the end of "Memphis Belle" on HBO the other day, I have come to this conclusion: Matthew Modine is, in fact, the real poor man's Matthew Broderick.