My Weekend
So my friend Jen moved in to her new apartment in JP just a day or two ago, and I went there last night to see the place and hang out with her and Tim.
I didn't know it at the time, but while I was there, the Red Sox were winning an extremely exciting game in the ninth inning. Jen's television was incapable of showing the game, and while it was capable of showing movies, we only had Rushmore on VHS, and there wasn't a bone to be found collectively that had any desire to watch that movie.
Jen fell dead asleep around one in the morning, Tim and I spent an hour or so on the porch talking about how terrifying the concept of marriage is and how awesome Pantera is.
That was pretty much the end of the night in JP. I woke up the next morning, had somewhat of an awkward intereaction in the doorway of the bathroom with Dave, Jen's roommate, and left.
I spent today in a hospital in Springfield, visiting my grandfather, who seems to have something wrong with his leg. Doctors are saying that his blood thinning medication did something terrible to his upper thigh and an abcess has formed, but they don't think it's infected. There's nothing funny about Springfield hospital except for maybe the "No Smoking" sign on the patio next to the children's ward.
I dunno, picture some awful jackass smoking a butt, surrounded by a bunch of bald kids trying to play kickball, so they have to put up a sign.
There was a party across the street from my grandparents house for my dad's friend's graduation. Charlie graduated with an Associates in business administration from Holyoke Community College. He is forty nine years old, and the degree took fifteen years to get, but he still threw a party. My dad's old girlfriend from high school was there, and they chatted for an hour about all the evil drugs they did, friends that died, friends that got rich, how many kids never moved, how many kids did, etc. etc.
My dad took me on a tour of his old High School days, through downtown, his old neighborhood, Tech, Classical, American International, etc. etc. I saw the massive pond he used to skate on as a kid. It ran for miles behind the streets of the strange place where he began his life, and I was struck by how small all of the houses were. It was essentially a housing project made to look like a suburban neighborhood, he said, and minorities, rising violence, had pushed many of the massive irish catholic families out.
There's one advantage to growiing up in one of those neighborhoods. Everybody had upwards of five kids. One family had eleven. They all played street hockey and baseball, skated on the pond in the winter.
There's no place like Springfield.
I drove my dad's truck back and we listened to the Grateful Dead the whole way, not really talking too much except for the occassional "You're following too closely" from my dad and the "Sorry" from me. I'm actually pretty tired when I get back, but I still want to go out and do something, but that something doesn't seem to be materializing.
My weekend was slow and bizarre, and work starts again tomorrow, now that the rain is over, at 8:30. Back to the real world, I guess.
I'm in a really weird place, to say the least, and I'm hoping that things level out a bit before I leave for Bonnaroo in a couple of weeks. I feel as if your days are a balancing act. Whatever your standing on tips forward and backward, and you level it out again and again, but eventually, you'll start to wonder just what will happen if you fall. Where you'll land, and how things will be there.
I think most of us are still leveling ourselves out, unwilling to take the fall, and I include myself in that demographic.
- - - -
The Red Sox lost last night, 6-2 to the Detroit Tigers. So Tim Wakefield gets another loss (I believe), making his record look even less impressive, despite the fact that he's not doing all that badly.
I'm not really worried about the Detroit Tigers. Teams like that always start strong and finish weakly. I think it's important to remember that the AL east is really the ONLY division we have to concern ourselves with, and I think it's a safe bet to assume that the Tigers will fade like the 2005 Orioles, who started off something like 15 games over five hundred and five games ahead of the Sox and the Yankees in the AL East last year, only to descend into the mediocrity that's defined them this season.
And, with that, I am going to lay on my couch and watch the game. I think the Red Sox are winning.
- - - -
Tell your crew to be easy
niggas run around
With them fake frowns sell 'em on eBay
Get word to the DJ
tell 'em Staten Island's in the house
put the record on replay
I didn't know it at the time, but while I was there, the Red Sox were winning an extremely exciting game in the ninth inning. Jen's television was incapable of showing the game, and while it was capable of showing movies, we only had Rushmore on VHS, and there wasn't a bone to be found collectively that had any desire to watch that movie.
Jen fell dead asleep around one in the morning, Tim and I spent an hour or so on the porch talking about how terrifying the concept of marriage is and how awesome Pantera is.
That was pretty much the end of the night in JP. I woke up the next morning, had somewhat of an awkward intereaction in the doorway of the bathroom with Dave, Jen's roommate, and left.
I spent today in a hospital in Springfield, visiting my grandfather, who seems to have something wrong with his leg. Doctors are saying that his blood thinning medication did something terrible to his upper thigh and an abcess has formed, but they don't think it's infected. There's nothing funny about Springfield hospital except for maybe the "No Smoking" sign on the patio next to the children's ward.
I dunno, picture some awful jackass smoking a butt, surrounded by a bunch of bald kids trying to play kickball, so they have to put up a sign.
There was a party across the street from my grandparents house for my dad's friend's graduation. Charlie graduated with an Associates in business administration from Holyoke Community College. He is forty nine years old, and the degree took fifteen years to get, but he still threw a party. My dad's old girlfriend from high school was there, and they chatted for an hour about all the evil drugs they did, friends that died, friends that got rich, how many kids never moved, how many kids did, etc. etc.
My dad took me on a tour of his old High School days, through downtown, his old neighborhood, Tech, Classical, American International, etc. etc. I saw the massive pond he used to skate on as a kid. It ran for miles behind the streets of the strange place where he began his life, and I was struck by how small all of the houses were. It was essentially a housing project made to look like a suburban neighborhood, he said, and minorities, rising violence, had pushed many of the massive irish catholic families out.
There's one advantage to growiing up in one of those neighborhoods. Everybody had upwards of five kids. One family had eleven. They all played street hockey and baseball, skated on the pond in the winter.
There's no place like Springfield.
I drove my dad's truck back and we listened to the Grateful Dead the whole way, not really talking too much except for the occassional "You're following too closely" from my dad and the "Sorry" from me. I'm actually pretty tired when I get back, but I still want to go out and do something, but that something doesn't seem to be materializing.
My weekend was slow and bizarre, and work starts again tomorrow, now that the rain is over, at 8:30. Back to the real world, I guess.
I'm in a really weird place, to say the least, and I'm hoping that things level out a bit before I leave for Bonnaroo in a couple of weeks. I feel as if your days are a balancing act. Whatever your standing on tips forward and backward, and you level it out again and again, but eventually, you'll start to wonder just what will happen if you fall. Where you'll land, and how things will be there.
I think most of us are still leveling ourselves out, unwilling to take the fall, and I include myself in that demographic.
- - - -
The Red Sox lost last night, 6-2 to the Detroit Tigers. So Tim Wakefield gets another loss (I believe), making his record look even less impressive, despite the fact that he's not doing all that badly.
I'm not really worried about the Detroit Tigers. Teams like that always start strong and finish weakly. I think it's important to remember that the AL east is really the ONLY division we have to concern ourselves with, and I think it's a safe bet to assume that the Tigers will fade like the 2005 Orioles, who started off something like 15 games over five hundred and five games ahead of the Sox and the Yankees in the AL East last year, only to descend into the mediocrity that's defined them this season.
And, with that, I am going to lay on my couch and watch the game. I think the Red Sox are winning.
- - - -
Tell your crew to be easy
niggas run around
With them fake frowns sell 'em on eBay
Get word to the DJ
tell 'em Staten Island's in the house
put the record on replay


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