well, well, well...

A true adventure has begun.

I've only been here in paradise since Saturday afternoon, but it has been a very busy three days, to say the least. As Glinda said, it's always best to start at the beginning, so let's just take that first step on the Yellow Brick Road, shall we?

First fun discovery of my trip? There's a bus that runs directly from Logan to the World Trade Center dock. $2.00 and ten minutes later, I was enjoying brunch at the Seaport Hotel. Not bad. Second fun discovery? Bay State Cruises will hold your luggage for you while you wait, so you don't have to schlep it if you want to go do a little sight-seeing. Neat.

I got to Boston a few hours before my ferry to Provincetown was to depart, so after brunch I went to the Institute of Contemporary Art/Boston to check out the Anish Kapoor exhibit. What a remarkable, tactile, and provocative experience. I'm not qualified to comment on the works, but they left an impression, to say the least. They were also a little bit on the cruel side, because you want to touch all of them but obviously can't. This was much to the dismay of the hordes of children at the exhibit, but the flip side of that was watching the parents instruct the young ones on proper behavior in an museum: look, but don't touch. There is hope. The museum also has a "mediatechque" that is basically a raked room full of Macs that overlooks the water, where one can sit and learn about art and the museum. Pretty amazing.

The ferry ride itself was quite interesting as well. Now, one of my goals this summer is to open my heart a bit more and to try to be less judgmental, but 200 circuit queens put that to the test pretty quickly. FAR be it from me to stereotype, but the snippets of conversations around me ran the predictable gamut from drugs to the gym to the various "marital arrangements." Gross. And the steroids! My God, I put on muscle just by osmosis; additionally, my testes shriveled a little, I started to become an asshole, and my skin started getting funky. Thankfully, those effects have retreated since getting off the ferry. OOPS! LESS judgmental, Erik, LESS...

A couple that was seated across from me struck up a conversation. They were from L.A., and asked if I was traveling alone. When I said that I was, they both expelled a sympathetic, "Awww!" to which I responded, "Hey..don't pity me. I get to spend six weeks in heaven."

The ferry ride was grey and foggy as far as the eye could see...that is, until we got in view of Pilgrim Monument, at which point the clouds disappeared and the PTown I know and love came into view through the mists. I schlepped my three bags up to my new residence, found the key under the ceramic eagle on the front porch, and entered...

I freaked out for about thirty minutes. I knew that the house needed work and was basically untouched since the 1950's, but one must first see to believe. The only way that I can describe it is to remind you of the scene in "Beetlejuice" when Katherine O'Hara and her interior decorator are walking through the country house for the first time. She looks around the place with apprehension and says things like, "Oh, look...an indoor outhouse" and "It doesn't need much...a blowtorch...a little gasoline..it'll be great!" Another film reference? "Grey Gardens." And no I'm not kidding. My friend and roommate, TimO, has been there for a month and has done quite a job setting the place up with donated items and found objects. I can't imagine what HE thought when he first showed up to the herculean task of making the place liveable.

So I wigged out a bit and then got myself together. I hopped in the car and hit the Grand Union to purchase heavy-duty cleaning items and some kitchen basics. Upon returning to the house, I pulled on my rubber gloves and went in. I cleaned my bathroom, unpacked all of my belongings, set up my bedroom, and did a little organizing. The moment I put a little effort into it, it immediately began to feel a little more like home.

It may not have air conditioning or cable/internet. I may be dirty and dusty and a bit creepy. It might not have a very useful kitchen, and I might have to crouch down to use the toilet in my "horror under the eaves" bathroom.

But...

Many of the rooms have a view of the water. And It's large enough so that TimO and I never really know if the other one is there. And my room has toile wallpaper with King Neptune drawn all over it, is blue, and has blue gingham curtains on all SIX of its windows. And the breeze that blows through my bedroom feels like heaven. And there is a panoramic view of the whole town and bay from the widow's walk.

I went to to the breakwater yesterday to talk to God, and was overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude for the insane blessings in my life. Not to get too weepy on you, but I can't believe that I'm here. Nor can I believe that I get to be here for five more weeks.

Other things have happened: I've been to the Boatslip and A House. I might have been walked home from the A House by a handsome redhead who coaxed me onto the foggy beach for a smooch. I've seen the Atlanta crowd and had a lot of laughs already. And I got a Townie Pass.

But the best thing that's happened so far has been the great psychic exhalation. I'm calm, happy, and thrilled to call this place home for a while. This place that I love so much.