it is time

After very little reflection, I've come to a conclusion:

I'm going to remove this blog.

regarding palin

This, from Eve Ensler, pretty much says it all. Please read:

Drill, Drill, Drill

I am having Sarah Palin nightmares. I dreamt last night that she was a member of a club where they rode snowmobiles and wore the claws of drowned and starved polar bears around their necks. I have a particular thing for Polar Bears. Maybe it's their snowy whiteness or their bigness or the fact that they live in the arctic or that I have never seen one in person or touched one. Maybe it is the fact that they live so comfortably on ice. Whatever it is, I need the polar bears.

I don't like raging at women. I am a feminist and have spent my life trying to build community, help empower women and stop violence against them. It is hard to write about Sarah Palin. This is why the Sarah Palin choice was all the more insidious and cynical. The people who made this choice count on the goodness and solidarity of feminists.

But everything Sarah Palin believes in and practices is antithetical to feminism which for me is part of one story -- connected to saving the earth, ending racism, empowering women, giving young girls options, opening our minds, deepening tolerance, and ending violence and war.

I believe that the McCain/Palin ticket is one of the most dangerous choices of my lifetime, and should this country chose those candidates the fall-out may be so great, the destruction so vast in so many areas that America may never recover. But what is equally disturbing is the impact that duo would have on the rest of the world. Unfortunately, this is not a joke. In my lifetime I have seen the clownish, the inept, the bizarre be elected to the presidency with regularity.

Sarah Palin does not believe in evolution. I take this as a metaphor. In her world and the world of Fundamentalists nothing changes or gets better or evolves. She does not believe in global warming. The melting of the arctic, the storms that are destroying our cities, the pollution and rise of cancers, are all part of God's plan. She is fighting to take the polar bears off the endangered species list. The earth, in Palin's view, is here to be taken and plundered. The wolves and the bears are here to be shot and plundered. The oil is here to be taken and plundered. Iraq is here to be taken and plundered. As she said herself of the Iraqi war, "It was a task from God."

Sarah Palin does not believe in abortion. She does not believe women who are raped and incested and ripped open against their will should have a right to determine whether they have their rapist's baby or not.

She obviously does not believe in sex education or birth control. I imagine her daughter was practicing abstinence and we know how many babies that makes.

Sarah Palin does not much believe in thinking. From what I gather she has tried to ban books from the library, has a tendency to dispense with people who think independently. She cannot tolerate an environment of ambiguity and difference. This is a woman who could and might very well be the next president of the United States. She would govern one of the most diverse populations on the earth.

Sarah believes in guns. She has her own custom Austrian hunting rifle. She has been known to kill 40 caribou at a clip. She has shot hundreds of wolves from the air.

Sarah believes in God. That is of course her right, her private right. But when God and Guns come together in the public sector, when war is declared in God's name, when the rights of women are denied in His name, that is the end of separation of church and state and the undoing of everything America has ever tried to be.

I write to my sisters. I write because I believe we hold this election in our hands. This vote is a vote that will determine the future not just of the U.S., but of the planet. It will determine whether we create policies to save the earth or make it forever uninhabitable for humans. It will determine whether we move towards dialogue and diplomacy in the world or whether we escalate violence through invasion, undermining and attack. It will determine whether we go for oil, strip mining, coal burning or invest our money in alternatives that will free us from dependency and destruction. It will determine if money gets spent on education and healthcare or whether we build more and more methods of killing. It will determine whether America is a free open tolerant society or a closed place of fear, fundamentalism and aggression.

If the Polar Bears don't move you to go and do everything in your power to get Obama elected then consider the chant that filled the hall after Palin spoke at the RNC, "Drill Drill Drill." I think of teeth when I think of drills. I think of rape. I think of destruction. I think of domination. I think of military exercises that force mindless repetition, emptying the brain of analysis, doubt, ambiguity or dissent.

Do we want a future of drilling? More holes in the ozone, in the floor of the sea, more holes in our thinking, in the trust between nations and peoples, more holes in the fabric of this precious thing we call life?

Eve Ensler
September 5, 2008

if you ever wondered...

...there is a God indeed.

Good riddance.

another reason to ditch my car

I got up bright and early today (after my morning phone call from the OSW) and set about my Saturday errands: haircut, lunch with Mrs. Steve, grocery, then home. Upon my return home, I discovered that the gate to our common garage wasn't functioning, leaving us all to park illegally on the street. All of the available LEGAL spaces were taken up by some annoying idiot in my building who was having a party celebrating some sort of athletic contest today. College football, I believe. Some school with red and white colors. I know this because our common spaces are festooned with the most vulgar balloons and cheap streamers in these colors. There are also all kinds of folks walking around in red and black clothing, drinking out of plastic cups and spouting nonsense about how THEIR team is the best and "heh heh heh..I'm really going to enjoy taking your money when the game's over" and other such krap. Call me a snob, but I just can't stand the culture that surrounds college and professional football. Gross. And they're taking up all of my parking spaces.

Since our good-for-nothing management company refuses to address the malfunctioning garage until TUESDAY (due to the holiday), I decided to avoid a possible ticket-and-towing scenario and park my car at the OSW's house. He's out of town, and I was planning a "car free" weekend anyway. So I drove over there, parked, watered his plants, and strolled back home.

My mood shifted when I called the OSW to let him know that I was parking at his house. He's up in PTown, and basically he let me know that I had made a mark on the town, and that the mark remains. He told me that he felt like he was home, and that he misses me. I look very much forward to the time when we're not giving each other reports on the phone, across that great distance.

I walked back home, listening to extraordinary music and once again giving thanks to whatever, for everything. I even scaled down my hatred of the idiots in my building, but just a little bit.

what the...?

This is a new favorite thing.



I think I know what I'll do for Halloween...go to a cemetery and re-enact "Steel Magnolias!"

shall we all meet in the autumn?

Here it is, only mid-August, and the leaves are already changing. It's very subtle, but there is a dustiness to the maple trees that border my home, and I know enough to know that it won't be too long before the fireworks begin. I'm curious about the effect of this drought on this year's autumnal palette.

It is strange to me that for the first time, I do not mourn the passing of the summer. It always brought anxiety to me when I was in school (all that early rising and schoolwork), and now that I work in the same environment, I'm surprised that those feelings have not been resurrected. I had the best summer of my life, a summer that a small part of me wishes had never ended.

But I have many great things looming on the horizon. I've got some pretty great travel plans in the works for the fall and winter. I've gone back to work and have found great satisfaction and inspiration there. And I'm excited about some other stuff that I frankly don't wish to explain in detail - but trust me: it's all good.

In other, more banal news:

* I'm not working today, and will try to have a "no driving" day.
* Two appliances at my home have had a meltdown, but I'm handy enough to fix them (or just do the American thing and throw them out and purchase new ones)
* Since I came home last week, I've dined FOUR times with the OSW
* My tenant left my home in impeccable condition (which I'm inclined to maintain)
* I'm still coughing up the mold and mildew of Grey Gardens (at least, I hope that's the source of this ridiculous, persistent cough). Cue scene from "Camille..."
* On tap for the weekend: dinner with friends tonight, work, a party, work, and the first Family Roundup since we all got back to Atlanta from points north. At my sister's new home.

Life in America is hard, y'all...

what i did in provincetown this summah

You know what? When I told everyone that I planned to spend six weeks in Provincetown this summer, they all asked the same question: What are you going to do for six weeks in Provincetown if you're not working?

To that end, ladies and gentlemen, here is my very, VERY long list of Things I Did in Provincetown this Summah:


Saw Varla Jean Merman’s new show, Victory Lap Dance and was amazed by it
Saw The Wau Wau Sisters and befriended them
Saw Dina Martina’s show and must see it again to process it all (dialysis humor and “useless at-risk kids”)
Saw Miss Richfield’s show and hated it
Saw Two Boys in Bed on a Cold Winter’s Night and didn’t hate it as much as I thought I would
Laughed ‘til it hurt at Showgirls talent show
Gave several impromptu performances of my own on the street and in various parlours
Read five books: Land’s End by Michael Cunningham, Absolute Brightness by James Lecesne, When You Are Engulfed in Flames by David Sedaris, The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafon, and Tennessee Williams in Provincetown by David Kaplan
Swam in the ocean every day when it was fair
Got an amazing tan
Went whale watching and saw over fifty humpback whales
Spoke with God a couple of times
Did three art crawls in the East End art galleries and chatted with some artists
Dined at the Lobster Pot – several times
Was told by the ladies at the Pot that I was “one of them” (commence tears)
Looked at some real estate
Went to a family reunion in Orleans
Had lunch with Mom, Dad, Sister and Aunts when they visited
Watched the Fourth of July Parade
Watched the Fourth of July fireworks over the marina
Got a Townie Pass to the Boatslip
Threw up behind the A House
Almost got arrested for “open container”
Wished that I’d been arrested so I could say that I spent the night in the PTown Clink
Ate at just about every restaurant in town
Went back to Orleans for dinner with my aunt and uncle
Rode my bike on or walked on just about every little street in this town
Saw a couple of people on Segways and thought the looked retarded
Took the pontoon ferry over to Long Point for an exquisite afternoon on the beach
Hosted a host of friends at Grey Gardens
Saw a movie (the new Batman film) on a “Rainy Day Matinee”
Caught Cape Croup and had a mild nervous breakdown because of it
Made a dozen or so new friends
Spent all of my money
Drank my weight in Rose Kennedys, Long Island Iced Teas (w/ raspberry vodka), and Smirnoff Lime Rickys
Declared this summer the “Summer of the Hot Ginger”
Was temporarily a part of a roving band of loonies on bikes called the “Gay Marauders”
Witnessed the birth of a beautiful relationship
Developed the wonderful habit of reading the New York Times print edition every day
Lost my phone service and put a curse on T-Mobile
Shopped regularly at the Far Land Provisions – the best little grocery store in the world
Gained a few pounds and lost a few pounds
Climbed Pilgrim Monument
Embraced the marvelous power of gratitude
Danced
Laughed
Exhaled
Came up with a plan

Oh…and I kinda fell in love.

Not a bad summah.

the pot

I’ve made it a bit of a habit to stop by the Lobster Pot for a late lunch. The true lunch hours are very, very busy, and I like a little nosh before I go about my afternoon adventures. Usually I’ll go to the beach and read, then hit the restaurant for a nice little lunch at the bar at the Top o’ the Pot.

Having done this quite a bit in recent weeks, I’ve developed a little rapport with the staff. They are an amazing bunch, some of whom have worked there for ten or more years. It’s a bit of a cliché to say so, but these ladies are a bunch of gems.

So imagine my mortification when I was told by one of them that I had accidentally underpaid my bill on a previous visit. I went in for my usual lunch (a cup of chowdah, tuna tartare, and a Stella), and the bartender Marie said, “Hey, Eric…you accidentally underpaid your bill the last time you were here, so Cassie covered it for you. You owe her four bucks.”

Well, I was appalled for a number of reasons, not the least of which was the fact that I had also stiffed Marie on her tip (which she graciously omitted from her tale). So I ate, and settled up, and made amends to all parties.

Cut to today. I went upstairs to the bar, and Rima held a seat for me despite the crowd. Cassie was behind the bar, and we shared a laugh about it. She said (in her cool Caribbean accent), “Hey, it’s no big deal. We see you in here all the time, and we knew you’d be good for it. Anyway, you’re one of us, so we were happy to cover it.” Then she bought me a beer.

That’s right. The Ladies of the Lobster Pot consider me to be one of them. I almost wept.

It was the second best thing to happen to me during this insanely wonderful summer.

another schlep

I suppose that nothing worth having should be very easy to obtain. At least, that's the lesson that I learned when I set out across the breakwater today, in search of another amazing beach.

The tide was JUST about to turn when I began my crossing, so the water was pretty high. It is a long but comfortable walk across the stones to the dunes at the very tip of Cape Cod. The picture below shows that the breakwater - in addition to providing a wonderful place for a picnic - does its job very well:



Love how calm it is on the marsh side, while still an busy, active bay on the other.

But the trip was worth it, because this is what awaits on the other side:



A calm, quiet, peaceful beach. No parties, no tents, no children...just a beautiful ocean that can only be described as glittering like a handful of sapphires.

I set up my little umbrella and towel, and headed for the ocean. After my swim, I planned to sit and read the rest of the novel I'm currently reading (Absolute Brightness, by James Lecesne). Unfortunately, I forgot about the greenheads: vicious, hideous little flies who sting like crazy in an a effort to get at your blood. For the most part they left me alone because I turned my t-shirt into a makeshift flyswatter. However, a few managed to get at me, so I killed a couple:



I left their little corpses on the sand nearby, as an example to other impertinent little greenheads who foolishly wished to partake of my blood.

I'll say this, however: between the schlep and the flies, it was worth it. I finished my book, schlepped back to town and hit the Lobstah Pot for a late luncheon.

Not a bad day, I'd say. Wish you were here (and you know who you are).

two amazing things

Two amazing things happened to me today:

1. I took the pontoon boat ferry over to Long Point for a couple of hours. It was unspeakably gorgeous out there.

2. My phone finally arrived. It is currently charging, and I could not be happier. Well, I could be happier, but I'm pretty happy about finally having a stinkin' phone.

Showtunes night tonight, y'all! Who wants to go?

the phone

My cell phone went on the fritz over two weeks ago. July 10, to be exact. Some power surge or something here at Grey Gardens caused it to malfunction, and it would randomly dial and redial various phone numbers, unbeknownst to me. Imagine my surprise when TimO told me that my phone dialed him some 39 times while I was ignorantly dancing the night away at the A House. Sorry, Tim.

Unfortunately, there are no T-Mobile dealers here in Provincetown. Or Truro. Or Wellfleet. BUT the interweb told me that there was a dealer in Orleans, which is exactly where I was headed on July 13 for a family reunion. Perfect. I think, “I can last a coupla days without a phone.”

Here, then, is a list of the Great Kommunications Kaper of Kape Kod:

• Went to Orleans on the 13th only to discover that the Staples there no longer sells T-Mobile phones. The nearest place was the Cape Cod Mall in Hyannis, which wouldn’t fit in the plan.

• Back to PTown on the 14th, and attempted to order one on line. However, the online ordering service refused to ship to me in the Cape, only to my home in Atlanta. Neat.

• Borrow another friend’s phone to call T-Mobile and request replacement. Irritating Customer Service Rep #1 tells me that they won’t replace the phone (which I’ve only had for eight months, by the way) because it’s no longer under factory warranty. Apparently, I bought a lemon.

• Call Samsung to bitch about this, only to be shut down by ICSR#2.

• Call T-Mobile again to find a phone. They tell me that due to the circumstances, they will be happy to offer me a free phone. Huh?

• I go through the ordering process, at the tail end of which ICSR#3 tells me that I have to extend my contract with them for another year in order to get the “free” phone. I am now perturbed.

• I succumb to this idiocy and place the order, specifically requesting that it be shipped to me on the Cape as an express delivery. ICSR#3 says, “No problem!”

• Three days pass. No phone.

• One more call to T-Mobile. ICSR#4 chirpily offers to track the package, which I then learn was shipped to Atlanta via UPS Ground.

• I blow a gasket.

• I phone my tenant in Atlanta and ask him to send the phone to me ASAP on Sunday, July 20. He says, “Sure.”

• Three more days pass. No phone. I miss the OSW and want to call but can’t and it’s really gettin’ on my nerves.

• OSW speaks to tenant in Atlanta and informs me that the item was sent yesterday.

If it arrives tomorrow (which is highly unlikely, as Saturday deliveries are not popular in this neck of the woods), it will be SEVENTEEN days that I’ve gone without my own phone. While this has been liberating on some fronts, it has mostly made me crazy.

So that’s why I haven’t texted y’all back lately. Please forgive me.

money pit

So. Grey Gardens almost did me in last night.

I woke up yesterday feeling a little puny, and figured that I had contracted some sort of bug. Cape Croup, I think they call it. My other theory was that the toxins in my body from weeks of Tea Dances and Wave Bar and “oh…let’s just have one more” were released into my bloodstream after my massage on Monday, only to make me achy and irritable and unable to sleep. Who knows…

I turned in early last night, shooting a quick blast of NyQuil and hoping for a good night’s sleep. What I got was a thunderstorm of Shakespearean scale: cracking thunder, bolts of lightning, torrential rains – the works. It was neat, but I was trying to sleep, which I was just about to do until the ceiling in my room started leaking onto my bed.

Apparently, the door to the widow’s walk above my room was open, and the tempest had washed water into the attic, causing the leak. There it was, after midnight, I’m sick, and I have no way to stop the leak (since the house in which I’m staying is “bare bones” to say the least). I glanced out the window to the Benchmark Bed and Breakfast across the street, its “Vacancy” sign teasing me in the storm.

But, necessity is the mother of invention. I propped a chair under the doorknob to the offending door, stuffed the cracks with old towels, and spread sheets around the attic floor to absorb the thin layer of water. Amazingly, it did the trick. And today I went to the hardware store for anti-tempest supplies: Gorilla tape and 6 mil black plastic sheeting. I sealed the door with the sheeting and again sealed the cracks with towels. We got another blast today, but my plan seems to have held.

I will NOT be defeated by a cranky old house. I will NOT.

not to rub it in, but...

Many have asked what I do in Provincetown during the day, since I'm not working while I'm here.

During the times when I don't have guests in the house, here is an example of my typical day:

*Rise with the sun
*Walk to coffee or breakfast
*Return home
*Venture out on the bike for errands or just to scope out some street I've never seen
*Home for lunch
*Mild household duties: laundry, perhaps, or wash a couple of dishes or make my bed
*Beach
*Home to nap
*Shower
*Drinks
*Dinner, either at home or some nifty new place I've never been
*Home to bed

Sigh. Now if only the OSW would just win that lottery so's we could do this ALL SUMMAH!

magic

I'm finding it difficult to match words to feelings these days. My time here in Provincetown has been rich and full and dense with experiences and sensations. It is as if I have this massive file in my head that I need to unzip before I can look at all the images in an organized way. My blog entries these days will have to serve solely as a repository for such thoughts, lest I forget something.

To that end... a list:

* Saw Varla's new show and laughed my ass off. "Victory Lap Dance." Most memorable quote: "I just don't get circus clowns. I mean, who would want to put on a crazy red wig, slap on some foolish makeup, and pretend to be someone they're not?"

* The Junior League came and went and we sure did have fun. I had particular fun pointing out the fact that their rental home was purposely set up for sex parties. They didn't believe me. I said, "Boys, there is huge room downstairs with nine futons, a wet bar, and an enormous flat screen TV. Do the math." Bless them.

* I've witnessed one "population changeover" in this town. The circuit boys left and a new crop of regular folks arrived. It's pretty cool to be the constant.

* I was invited to a "townie" event and felt like one of the gang.

* My mom and sister have been up to visit and we had a blast.

* The Pirate Cruise in the harbor is just about the cutest thing on the planet. This guy has rigged a motorboat to look like a pirate ship and he cruises around the harbor with children, who spend the time playing pirate. They even "attack" another pirate in another ship with water canons. I'm laying on the beach, minding my own business and all of a sudden I hear a crowd of little voices screaming, "AAAARGH!" Precious.

* The Provincetown Fourth of July Parade was a hoot. It lasted about twenty minutes and included four fire trucks, some veterans, a coupla drag queens, the town selectmen, a few businesses, and TWO - count 'em - TWO Fife and Drum Corps. Who knew there was such a demand for Fife and Drum instruction that there would be two corps?

* The fireworks over the harbor were amazing. The company was better.

* Grey Gardens continues to grow on me. I'll post pictures as soon I figure out how to use my camera.

* Kenny is here and I'm speechless at how much I cherish our friendship.

* Dad's coming up on Saturday and I'm glad to offer him an opportunity to get a way from the business of a family reunion and enjoy the beauties of PTown.

* Today's schedule: bike, beach, whale watch, dance. Just another day in paradise.

Oh, and something else has happened. It's wonderful and fun and nervous and joyful and I'm sorry but I just can't bring myself to put it into words. One day I will be able to do so, but that'll have to wait.

Baby steps...

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.

Bags? Packed.
House? Cleaned.
Cab? Called.
Work? Done.

I'm outta here. See you on the Cape.

i'm trying

I'm trying to not use the word "hate" anymore, so I won't say that I "hate" the Boot Camps that take over Piedmont Park in the mornings. Let's just say, that I "strongly dislike" them.

Another reason to "strongly dislike" the boot camps is that they take over the local coffee shop en masse and hold up everything. Crowds of them, all at the same time. Thankfully, the sensible barista sensed my frustration at being trapped behind them, and ushered me to another register.

Other than that, the park was stunning this morning. I almost didn't make it, but the wiser of my two brains won out.

Two more days...two more days....

things to do in provincetown this summah

* Climb Pilgrim Monument
* Drive a car only for my initial stocking of the kitchen
* Visit the family in Orleans
* Meet Varla/Jeffery and become an acquaintance
* Join the library
* Read 6 books…or more
* Go to the beach at least three times a week
* Write about everything
* Take a Historic Provincetown Walking Tour
* See at least one live performance per week… at LEAST
* Take a long bike ride Every. Single. Day.
* Set and photograph a prettier dinner table than ANY of genex's - from the available hodge podge of found materials in my house
* Go on an art crawl
* Go on a dunes tour
* Go on a whale watch
* Oh, and maybe hit the Boatslip and A House a coupla times

Have I left anything off the list?

the funniest thing on the internet

It should be no surprise to anyone that the Funniest Thing on the Internet comes to us from The Onion. I swear they hire REAL newscasters to do their fake news.

This clip (SFW) is so chock full of hilarious genius that I do think my head will explode. Watch it over and over and over to see the amazing layers (get it?...the Onion?...layers?...heh heh heh) of brilliance in this humor. I believe it to be a spoof of this real-life event.


High School Tony Awards Honor Nation's Biggest Drama Club Nerds

I mean, hilarious.

another favorite

This will stop when I get back to work next week, I promise.

"Chewing gum helps me think."

"Sweetie, you're wasting your gum."