Random

"There is a fine, fine line between love and a waste of time." -Kate Monster

By the way, Jehovah's Witnesses are lame. Have you heard the good news? You suck.

Thank you so my savior, Constable Yu. Jolene and I appreciate your kindness and help. You are now my favorite Canadian. Sorry Corey Haim, but, really, what have you done for me lately?

Thanks also to Jackie Tripper. Your kindness was essential. New life lesson: When in need, head to this bar:


Look, my phone is just like my time machine:

Napoleon's socks:

And for all your chum needs:

Avoid work here

That's what I'm doing. My job being international traveler.

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music!

sports!

fashion!

Blame Canada

Not my best day football fans. As you may have gathered from my last post. That was written in a KFC parking lot somewhere in stupid French speaking Quebec.

Essentially, I took my sweet time leaving Massachusetts yesterday, drove to somewhere in Vermont and got a cheap motel when exhaustion hit. Checked in and was struck with insomnia. I took my sweet time getting started this morning, and then was not prepared exactly how French French Canadians are. I speak no French. I went to a bank to change money and they couldn't help me. I still have no loonies in my pocket.

The hostel that looked so great online was unacceptable when I arrived (which took at least an hour longer than it should because I got totally lost in Montreal). It actually looked pretty nice, but the parking situation was not workable considering I currently live at 1 Jolene Way and the sweetie at the front desk assured me she would get broken into. He was so nice. He didn't charge me for the late cancellation. Never underestimate the power of female tears.

Traveling alone is a blessing and a curse. It was very easy to make the executive decision to get the hell out of French Canadia. On the other hand, I felt the sting of loneliness dealing on my own. All I wanted to do was curl up with a hot Cajun boy or el gato gordo and watch crappy movies all night long. Instead, I drove west until finding the Holiday Inn I currently reside in.

And while I'm bitching, too much math today. US$ to C$. km to m. That one was pretty frustrating, until I realized I had been glancing at a conversion chart every 2 minutes or so. I'm not sure if figuring it out makes me a genius, or not figuring it out for so long makes me an idiot. Let's go with genius.

Regarding the west coast, the whole family is okay. My mom didn't even feel the earthquake?! My abuilita was out partying with her great-grandchild with no concerns. It seems I was the most affected somehow.

Not a totally shitty day though. I had fun with my camera:

Vermont at sunset:

666. mileage of the beast!

Continuing to be bored in the car:

Canadian sunset:

Hey Meat Curtain, I got two beds. That means tonight I can....

je ne parle pas français

So I made it to Canada today. It has not been going well. I tried to deal with the language barrier, but I speak no French. I got to the hostel I had made reservations with and there was no parking. The clerk said my car would likely be broken into. I have no cash. I have no ATM card. I tried to go to a bank but couldn't talk to anyone. I'm sure with time I could figure it out. But I am in no mood.

Because I just now heard about the earthquake in L.A.. I am freaking the fuck out. I have no idea how to get a hold of anyone (most of my family is there). I don't speak the language here so I can't ask for help. The only thing I figure to do is head to Toronto where perhaps I can better deal with all this. Fuck.

Reverse Technology

I leave for Canada in a couple of hours. Let it be known that I am turning off my cell phone for the next week because of roaming and such. And, as my mom says, I am cheap. So no texts. No calls. No GPS. Big Bear was telling me that there is something called a landline? Its like a cellphone I guess but attached to some sort of wire? Have you heard of this? Also there is something called a map? Its like this big piece of paper that shows all the roads. Yeah I thought Big Bear was taking crazy pills but he insists its true.

To that end, I will try and post a little something daily so everyone knows I am alive.

0-1

Masscellaneous

Massachusetts Philosophy:

Practicing Safe Hex:

Slow and steady:

New England Clam Chowder:

'nuff said:
So I go into Boston the day after the Sox game, admittedly a bit hung, but determined to see the Boston Tea Party ship and exhibit. It's a bit of a walk, but I'm willing in the name of history. I get there and see this:
No ship. No tea party. I guess earlier this year there was a fire on the dock so they removed the whole thing for renovation. Damn.

So I decide to head here:
No one knew my name.

Here is the view from Big Bear's pad in Georgetown:

Here are his cats, who I have renamed Coke-Head and Masshole. Coke-head is a total slut:

Speaking of sluts, check out this slutty beer:

Now this is what I call freedom:

Self-proclaimed oldest tavern in the U.S.. Research indicates that this is not true. It was a must see on my itinerary. It turned out to be a total meat-market:

The sun sets on my Bostonian Adventure:

Thanks to these to fine women for being so sweet and fun. I had such a great time ladies!!! Thanks for listening to my lamenting of losers, and totally taking my side. Thanks also to Laura and Missy, who somehow escaped the wrath of my trusty Panasonic Lumix.

Thanks most of all to my unofficial Big Bear. I had such a great time this week my dear sweet friend. Though you do realize I am now spoiled rotten. Get your ass to an open mic or you will have me to deal with. See you at Christmas?!

Walk the line

So Boston makes it easy on us nerds via the Freedom Trail. Throughout downtown there is a red line, mostly in brick, that takes you 'round to all the sights. See:

And here is what we saw.

Capitol Building. Not as cool as Connecticut or Texas, but way better than Florida.


This is a memorial for the 54th regiment, the first regiment of black volunteers to fight in the civil war.


You have to click on this photo to get the full effect. Its a very detailed, very beautiful hopscotch court that commemorates the first public school in America.


This is a statue recognizing Boston's aide in the Potato Famine. In 1847, Captain Robert Bennet Forbes left Boston Harbor with 800 tons of food, supplies and clothing and set out for Ireland. What a nice guy.


This is all the commemorates the Boston Massacre, which I thought was odd. Just a circle of stones in the pavement. In the middle of a crazy busy 5 way intersection. Weird.


Paul Revere house:


Paul Revere:


The signal lanterns of Paul Revere that warned the country of the British troops of their march to Lexington and Concord were displayed in the steeple of this church.

I see dead people

One wonderful side effect of traveling is learning new things about oneself. Turns out I'm really into cemeteries. Who knew?

Ben Franklin's parents (If you've been paying attention you know where Benny eternally rests)


One if by land:


John Handcock


A close personal friend:

Feelin' less than groovy

It seems I've hit a bit of a wall. Road weary and such. A little homesick. The weather here is stormy like my mood. And then I see this:

Floating Baby Turns 17

We are old.

Thank you for being a friend.

RIP

Youth is wasted on the young

Hartford was fabulous. Despite significant cultural differences, everyone I met was so kind and welcoming and ready to do some serious partying. Much of the week is a bit of a haze due to our good friend Mary, espresso martinis, white wine, and champagne. Magic Hat #9 was my theme beer of Hartford. (BTW, west coast beer lovers, read this important news!) I ate amazing food, better than NY I'd say, and was spoiled by the kindness of strangers in a far better financial situation than I. Everyone was an intellectual and conversation never dulled. Had the best gnocci I've ever. Listened to a funny little man play guitar poorly at Barcelona. We even broke into a storage facility for a little late night "shopping." (Not as illegal as it sounds.) One night we even pulled an all-nighter. Saw the sun set. Saw the sun rise. Blue laws be damned! We will party past 9:00! We will drink delicious beer on Sunday! Your puritanical moral standards will not stop us from catching a buzz. See:




Saturday, after sleeping all day, we headed to Tanglewood up in the Berkshires to see the Boston Symphony Orchestra. It was so amazing. Blankets on the lawn, picnic at dusk, red wine, good people, and great music. My host, Lovey, even had a little romance! Nearly a perfect evening. I say nearly because I estimate I got 4 mosquito bites on my hands and about 70 or so on my legs and feet. I was going to post a picture, but it is far too disgusting.

Sunday was very New Englandy. Lovey and I went for brunch at the Wadsworth Atheneum. Took a quick tour of their exhibits. I saw a Georgia O'Keefe, an Andy Warhol, a Diego Rivera, a handful of Picassos, and the original of this Norman Rockwell:

Then off to New Haven to walk around the Yale campus. So beautiful. Look:

Cemetery:Buried here are Charles Goodyear (inventor of vulcanized rubber), Glenn Miller (band leader and trombonist), Robert Sherman (the only man to sign all four basic documents of American sovereignty), Noah Webster (like the dictionary), Eli Whitney (inventor of the cotton gin and easy clue in crossword puzzles), and a whole pile of Yale grads and presidents as well as important state politicians. Is it wrong to refer to the dead as a pile... Hmm.

Dining Hall:
Only slightly different from the D.C. at Berkeley.

Gargoyles at Yale Law:
By the way, to settle a heated debate of that evening, Bill Clinton went to Georgetown for his undergrad, DID attend Oxford to study government, and then went on to get his law degree at Yale, where he met Hilary, another law student. Stalker George only received his undergrad degree at Yale. So there.

Ivy:


We then had an amazing dinner at Thali Too. If you are in or around New Haven it is a must. Vegetarian Indian Cuisine. The Lassis were heaven. I could have drank about 50.

Last day in Connecticut I HAD to go see the Mark Twain house, located in downtown Hartford: He and his family lived there for a while, until Twain invested in an automatic printing press and lost his fortune. It was here he wrote most of his great novels including Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer. His office was the best. It had a pool table and a bar area. And again, standing in a room where great things happened... it inspires me to be great. I don't know what that looks like yet for me.

For my best girl it looks like this:
She's the one in the pink... hair. She walked 39 miles to save boobies. What did you do last weekend? I didn't think so. Feeling guilty? Its not to late. Another friend that exudes greatness will be doing the same thing in October. Donate to her walk here.

And now my heap of gratitude. Liza and Matt, thanks for showing me New Haven and appreciating my nerdy love of useless information. Sorry I was so itchy and twitchy that night. Austin Mike and Marielle, you two are awesome. Thank you for introducing me to a culture I'd never experienced and not judging me to harshly for my ignorance. Austin Mike, thanks for unending generosity and for hiding my kitty cat. Lovey will handle the arrangements when you return. Joshua, you are fabulous. Mark, you are my new gay husband. Crazy Wade, your crazy. Good luck with that amazing garden. And finally Lovey, my long time friend... it was so great to see you again and reconnect. Please don't let another 13 years go by again. You will come visit me, understood!