Reconnecting

The previous post inspired me to share how in the last few days I've seen some people that, at least from my point of view, had fallen off the planet after high school. I should start with a few nights ago. Many of you know Marci Pepper, whom I hung out with for the first time in nearly a year. After six years in school together, I couldn't quite believe that it had been 10 months since I last saw her. At the same time we chilled with a couple other good friends from high school, one that I've known for ages. Having been the Romeo to her Juliet in 4th grade, it was a bit overwhelming to see her in her own townhouse preparing to start med school next fall. Yikes.

By far the most surreal encounter, though, was with my friend Ashlee to whom I hadn't spoken since the week before NSO our freshman year. My last memory of her was watching her drive drunk and stoned away from a house party in Boulder. Over the last couple of years I heard little bits here and there about her, and sadly the substance abuse issues got much much worse before she started to straighten herself out. Freshman year she also started dating some guy (lots of drug and other issues himself) and quickly cut herself off from pretty much everyone else. It wasn't until junior year, when she spent a semester in Florence and broke up with this guy, that she reappeared to the rest of us. I ended up spending Friday night in Boulder with her celebrating the 21st birthday of another formerly good friend whom I also hadn't seen since I left for college.

I was really struck by how easily these people and I were able to rediscover our camaraderie. This the gang I spent most weekends with in high school, partied with, spent homecomings and proms with, and was most comfortable with. So quickly those bonds dissolved after graduation. I never really thought the connections could endure several years of dormant friendship, nor did I ever anticipate an opportunity to reconnect with these people. The night in Boulder was fantastic, and I couldn't be more happy to have back some old friends.

In other news, I just found Starship Troopers on TNT. For some reason I always watch this movie when it's on. It's not even all that good. Miss you all tons.

tots and cots

Today, I was my mother's bitch. Truly and most sincerely. I hung out around dozens of elderly women, thousands of animal crackers and cups of apple juice, and hundreds of pre-kindergarten and pre-pubescent boys and girls, and I watched them enter a land of colorful insanity.

Here. Take a look:

It was so insane that even my camera couldn't right itself. Anyway. This was the Boulder Symphony's performances for kids- Carnival. Imagine this: there are real people under those costumes. Sorry to ruin the fantasy, kiddos.


And after all this, after all that juice and crackers and glitter, I climbed 6,000ft to come home and throw rocks for my dog and play with my cats outside and listen to the Traveling Wilbury's and generally lead a nice life. Kind of. And somehow I got my stuff into two carry-ons and a check-in. Wish I were a man for this trip.

My dog is currently snoring at my feet. She's a medium size Brown dog, and she dreams all the time. And this post is turning into a diary entry.

That's all for now.

Nighty night my dears. For those keeping track, I head off Monday at 9AM for Dulles-Johannesburg (16hrs), Jo'burg - Cape Town (3hrs). Since I'll be spending most of tomorrow as a nervous and already exhausted wreck, I thought I'd say ciao now. Not that I won't be checking this neurotically through the day, but as odd as I am right now, it'd be much worse for you tomorrow.

Ciao, mes amis. You'll hear from me from the Southern Hemisphere (or SoHem to the natives), and I promise, no matter how crappy the pics are, they'll be far more interesting from now on.

All the most incredible luck to you all.

Love to all.

PS. Baboons throw wild dance parties until 4AM, I hear.

Heading North on Rt. 1

I'm leaving early tomorrow for Maine and so I'll be out of touch and Steve won't call me saying he met manny ramirez anymore. But last night as I waited for three hours for my mother to get off a plane and wait for her luggage, which was on the tarmac at Charles de Gaulle, I got a text message from Matt Golub that said simply "Abby Wright?"--this being the name of the girl who dumped me on Valentine's Day my sophomore year of high school. I sent him a message back but there was no explanation forthcoming.

Today, still curious about Abby, I went to a family thing at my father's best friend's house. The guy's name is Andy and I'm named after him and I like being named after him. But his brother is dying of heart disease along with his father and step-mother, who has cancer. Andy's wife's brother, a scyzophrenic, also joined the macabre party along with the diabetic younger brother whose a great guy but looking bad. As we were leaving Andy's father, whose extremely senile and deaf but who has always been kind to my father asked me how I had been.

I told him I'd been fine and asked the obvious question.

He smiled and said "whats the use of complaining."

On the road up to Maine there is water tank with Lobsters on the side. It sits squarely on the New Hampshire border and once its behind me I breath easier. But there won't be many people to talk to in Maine, just my nervous mother. My neighbor, whose in the room next to me as I write, is working in Boston and my sister is in Washington. But in some ways the worst this is that Chris, the gay antique store owner who I eat lunch with, is staying in San Francisco for the summer because his partner has parkinson's. Chris and I used to sit on the porch of Craig's bookshop, with Craig and Chris's little fluffy dog, and make fun of people passing by. This was every afternoon while I was working as a groundskeeper for the country club. This is how I know a lot of people and it is also where the front porch thing comes from. Its benign enough but what happened is that I came to know everyone and where to find their dirty laundry. Chris being a sixty year old gossip and all.

Everyone on Islesboro knows me but they don't. I know everyone but I don't. I'm not sure in retrospect if I ever had a serious conversation with Andy and I haven't talked to Abby in almost six years. Its funny how we communicate with the past through bonds we create and fictions we employ. If I saw the past sitting next to me in a Metro station with a beard and ringlets I think I would only give it a cursory hello. The past is not as important as memories of it. Things unfortunately are what they are and if they weren't, and if we didn't build paths backwards from our feet, than there would be more cause to complain.

Boston is a pretty mournful place but the trees in Maine are exactly where they have always been and the Lobster tank will still be there on the border, though the bridge changed and the ferry to the island is know chaperoned by coast guard cutters.

I don't have internet up there so I thought I would write something but it didn't turn out as what I thought it would turn out to be so I'll end it with a tremendous solace, the face of my beautiful dog.

Gainful employment? Steve?

So last night I went down to the east village to meet up with some friends leaving a hardcore show in Brooklyn to get drinks and be generally raucous. Since my town is a main hub on the train line going into the city, you never know who you're going to bump into at the station.

Low and behold, as the train pulls up to the platform and I'm about to climb on, I see my very first girlfriend of about a year and a half whom I dated in high school (10th through 11th grades). She lives in another town, so this does not usually happen.

So I see her on my left, head stuck in a book, and reach over to tap her on the knee with my maganize just to catch eyes and sort of say "hi" as I board the train. Figured she was taking a later train as she was still reading as this one pulled up. She looks up, clearly not surprised to see me, and immediately I get a look of "yes, I saw you just a moment ago, and was trying to hide from you. I'll pretend to be noticing you for the first time". Great. Turns out she was actually getting on the same train as me, and was still in her seat because she was definitely trying to avoid any interaction. For all I know, she would have missed the train in an attempt to avoid me.

So instead, she hops on board and we ask each other what we're doing in the city. She informs me that she has a date, makes a quick right up the aisle, blonde hair flying out to the left, takes a seat and promptly gets on the phone. At that point I realized our conversation had ended. No five minutes of catching up, not the slightest recognition of the fact that we had known each other for awhile and might be curious what's going on in each other's lives, just the scent of perfume and the recognitiion that she probably thought I was a huge jerk (I'll assume with good reason).

So I say to myself "what the hell, the poor girl probably has a lot on her plate right now. I'll go sit down, mind my own business and read my national geographic". I subsequently get to the city, have a ton of fun, get drinks for quite some time, and just relax. I caught up with a friend I had about 8 years ago who's actually doing cool stuff with himself right now and will be in Uganda shooting a documentary soon. I told him to look out for Burmon.

I also found out (very nonchalantly) from a girl I dated a couple summers ago, that she has been stripping on the side while at college. "Oh Anthony, I didn't tell you that?". Gainful employment one might query? To the tune of $500 a night. Can't say I'm not proud of her. She definitely strips to at least one Yeah Yeah Yeahs song, which is kinda hot.

So I spent the night in shitty NJ afterward, woke up to delicious fruit crepes, and took the PATH, to the L, to the Subway, to Metro North to my town. I step out of the train onto the platform and, ah yes, my ex girlfriend once again. "How was your night?" she asks as she turns, joins the crowd, and hustles up the stairs-- not bothering to wait for a response.

I later recounted the interaction to my sister. And what did the articulate, Brown-freshman to be have to say about it? "That bitch".

Thank god for younger sisters. Always there to insult another girl in defense of the family. Unfortunately, I can't help but reel in my sleep thinking of what I must have done to this girl. I pray that no one else I've dated regards with me such obvious disdain. Now for a good night's sleep.

currently, on ESPN...

I am in disbelief. Not because I'm any outrageous Yankees fan or anything, not that I don't compare my cat to Derek Jeter, not that pinstripes absolutely turn me on, but...

but...
The Yankees are entering the 11th inning against the Giants.



are you kidding?!

Pretty.

Reflecting on this blog:
Does anyone else feel an incredible appreciation for the picture selections at right??? my god, part of the fun of this blog is looking at each of us at our utter best. It's FANTastic.

And Will, kick that froshy where it hurts if he doesn't feed you at your beck n' call, k?

Good luck to everyone!

Will's Whatsupdate

So as I've already mentioned, my Mirrielees roommates are two random sophomores that I met during room-picking: a cyclist named Gavin and an asian named Timothy (the only unassigned guy who wasn't completely socially awkward, even by my low standards). Gavin's stuff is in the double so lil' Timmy must be the one making the play for the single. Then, at 12:15 last night the door opens and a guy with coke bottle glasses walks in. Now, I grew up in the relatively east-asian-free land of the Midwest, so I'll admit that it often takes a little extra effort for me to distinguish between those that I'm unfamiliar with. Fortunately, in the silent moment during which I was deciding between opening with pleasant small talk or just ripping Tim's head off, I figured out that the Asian now standing in my room was not, in fact, Timothy.

Apparently, Timmy fell down a well and was replaced by a random named Roger (maybe? I wasn't really listening). He was under the (mistaken) impression that I knew Gavin (who has yet to appear) and that we had planned to draw together; as the outsider, he felt it appropriate to take the single. I quickly corrected the foolish notions filling his pin-sized head. The little snot-rag had the wisdom to offer to give me the room just as I was about to offer to fit him with some cement shoes and take him for a walk off a pier. instead, I'll help him move out on Saturday.

And now the funny part: the little $#*% is only a freshmen.

Sorry boys, I've officially decided the life of a sugar mamma is too difficult

SO I heard that ibanking was supposed to be difficult, I heard that I would be working long hours, but I also heard that working in banking was (I'm prefacing this with many disclaimers_______<- fill in the blank) kind of like a corporate Durand. Yeah you tended to be up late and work hard(Will), but at least it was with people you liked and you had fun with it.

Unfortunately, reality does not quite match the double-high five-secret handshake lifestyle that I built. Needless to say I do NOT live in the fast lane, I do NOT work had and party hard, instead I work hard, leave work at 2 am, take my company-expensed cab ride home to an amazing apartment that I never see, tiptoe past my sleeping roommate and fall into bed, waking only a few hours later to my obnoxious cellphone alarm(pretty sounding ones get incorporated into my dreams) and the incessant buzz of my blackberry with emails fot the coming day.

I miss you guys lots... Please come to the city to see me... I have a fabulous apartment with a gorgeous view of the bay(alcatraz, coit tower, the who nine yards) and ... A Pool! Which I have never actually swam in, because I leave before it opens and return after it closes...

Oh and my roommates are amazing...

So visit!

Smack That

Will forgot to mention how we saw each other. We caught each other's eye across the gym as I walked in and we immediately sprinted towards each other. It all happened in slow motion and ended in Will giving me a giant sweaty bear hug. I didn't let go for a long time. It was pretty amazing.

Anyways, I would have posted earlier, but I was too lazy to register a Google account, which I just found out takes a total of 8 seconds. I guess old habits die hard.

I'm all settled here at Stanford for the summer (AGAIN) after a few great days at home and I'm already bored. I knew I would get to this point but I didn't think it would happen so soon. So my first morning here as I walked out the front door of Castano, half asleep in my typical morning routine, I was accosted by a cheery Asian kid who I immediately noticed was wearing a black purse as a backpack, one strap over each shoulder. And I'm almost positive it wasn't a man-purse. Hot. He asked me to prop the door for him so he could move in all of his stuff hassle-free. Being the friendly person that I am (ha), I spent the next five minutes dragging a heavy trash can to prop the door while he stood there, empty-handed I might add, watching me struggle. Needless to say I was pissed, and when he said "Thanks New Friend!," I just walked away looking disgusted. That pretty much sums up my experience in Castano so far.

I've also started working in the lab. My first day I spilled several pellets of NaOH while weighing them, and the lab tech with whom I was working got on her hands and knees in an attempt to find each fallen pellet (they're about 1 mm thick). I joined her on the floor for the next 15 minutes, especially after she explained that NaOH is flammable when it comes in contact with water. Unfortunately we didn't find any pellets. And as she searched for them, she knocked over a container of glass petri dishes under the desk, sending shattered glass everywhere. It caused quite a commotion and I'm pretty sure everyone else in the lab who came by thought I broke the glass. So all in all my first day was GREAT. Blah.

I miss you all SO MUCH.

Back on the Farm

I just got back from my vacation with the family this evening and went to haul my stuff into Mirrielees. What did I find? One of my two random sophomore roommates had the unbridled temerity to move into the single. Who does he think he is? (Actually, that's not a bad question. I'm not sure that I remember this name). F~@$ing C~#%.

Rather than crush his belongings into rumble while bellowing "Hulk Smash!" I went to the gym (I know, a real shocker. No less than an hour after my return to Stanford) where I ran into Ani. She says that she will sign in to the blog soon and start posting. She sounded rather excited about it all--almost as excited as she was about the old copy of Harry Potter she clutched in her hands as she powered away on the eliptical--so expect a post from her soon.

Anybody around for the weekend? I'm looking for something fun to do before my 48-hr work-weeks begin.

Oh, and Victor: finished BSG yet?

Homeward Bound

Okay. So I'm already here, but I actually got to see the light of NY today, and go to my sister's graduation. How exciting, how touching! Actually, I also got to partake in a traditional NY thunderstorm that absolutely raged during the graduation. Onto more interesting things...
So this is my front lawn, which I got to return to today. I love that wet, verdant green and the scent that hangs around the streets here in the rain.



Here's the kitty that comes with the house. He's silly.


So after this it was graduation time. As my sister had to one up me (by one ranking mind you) she got to give the valedictory address, which was nice. Here's a shot of her giving it, followed by one of her walking away with her diploma. If anyone knows what camera setting you use for far away shots taken under a tent in the rain, I'd like to know, because this is the best I could get.





And finally, one of the three of us after the whole ceremony.



BTW, turns out the class let one of the students bands jam and play "shine on you crazy diamond" by pink floyd at graduation. How typical of my school. Anyhow, one of their friends had died in a car crash and they dedicated it to him, so it was sort of touching.


And the ceremony ended up being a bit of a reunion for me, as practically all my old classmates have younger siblings in my sister's class. One of them is the editor of the Harvard crimson, one went to India, one came out of the closet, one is a personal trainer... sort of nuts to see everyone at once. That was literally more high school friends that I've caught up with than all my breaks from college combined. And then at night I went out with an old buddy for a beer at a local bar, and guess who I saw there? One guess. ALL OF MY OLD HIGH SCHOOL TEACHERS TOGETHER. DRINKING. It was other worldly. They were drunk, chatting with me, one kissed me on the cheek... too much. They said this is what they do when they're not in class. Figures.

So it was a real stroll through memory lane. My sister has a lot of growing up to do, but I'm proud of her, and I think she's headed in the right direction. If nothing else it will be her direction, and no one elses, and I can be proud of that. I really hope she "grabs the bull by the horns", both metaphorically and literally, at Brown (shitty Dodgeball reference, sorry guys).

Miss you.

My home friends

I second (third?) the obsession with the blog. I have a job with high-speed internet and two monitors, the second of which rotates between ESPN.com and this. Please post more often, especially between the hours of 11am and 5pm EST, so I can pay even less attention to work than I do currently.

And now, a quick anecdote on how far I have drifted apart from my high school friends. I went out with a bunch of them last night, bar hopping for a few hours. We went back to a kid's house and I ended up in a room with 6 to 7 people, 3 of which were my best friends growing up. We're talking inseparable from 8 to 18, my absolute closest friends in the world. So one of them reaches into his closet and pulls out a full pound of marijuana, which was exactly 10,000x as much weed as I'd ever seen at one time (picture a medium-sized pillowcase completely stuffed with it). This doesn't shock me anymore, as I already knew he was the premiere drug dealer for my 4000-person high school. I chat with a friend for a few minutes, and eventually a massive blunt makes its way around the circle towards me. I didnt really feel like smoking, but figured I'd have one hit and call it a night. I'm raising it to my lips when I hear "Oh! Joel! Just so you know, there's opium in that..." Needless to say I passed.

Just a small change from my social life at school... I miss you all quite a bit. Keep on posting...

SWEEP!

That is all.

Mateo today, Diego tomorrow

Hey all, time for my first real post.

I've been chilling in San Mateo at a friend's house for the last few days. Saw Ocean's 13 and liked it the other night. Been loving the blog to an almost obscene degree.

Tomorrow morning I fly to San Diego where I will be spending three glorious nights in the fabulous Days Inn (can't wait) and watching the first place Boston Red Sox take on the first place San Diego Padres in a possible World Series preview. Ironically enough I was just offered box seats at the Giants-Yankees game this Sunday but had to turn them down--when it rains, it pours. Besides, who wants to see a matchup between teams that are a combined 21.5 games out of first place? Not me. On Tuesday I red-eye home. If anyone's in Boston, let me know. We'll hang out. I start work a week from Monday.

All of my love,

How to...

This should be useful information for at least one of you this summer. Anyhow, I finally arrive back in NY after a long flight and 2 hours of delay. Read both Backpacker and Outside magazines on the way (Backpacker was much more interesting I thought). It's great to have the nagging that comes with being home start up. I ALREADY have to mow the lawn tomorrow. I've been home less than 20 minutes.

Hope all is well. I miss you guys. Thank god for the blog.

Mima

I ran into Mima yesterday on the T. She says hello. It was very odd to see her in a t station on newbury st. in Boston. But she seems upbeat. In other news, I cut all of my hair off and have begun try to teach myself swahili with a phrasebook. It is not going terribly well. i'm jealous of Sam though, real goddam jealous, as India sounds terrific.

I went into Boston tonight on heterosocial date with Dave Fort, a friend/neighbor from Maine. He just finished his first year at Princeton and he's in boston for the summer. I'm leaving and he doesn't know many people. Does anyone know anybody in the city. I think the kid needs a date. better looking one than me anyway. Let me know.

A query: On public transportation, specifically subways, is it acceptable to sit on the stair if there aren't any seats and you have come to terms with the dirtiness of the floor?

India

I've been in India for roughly 12 hours. For those of you who don't know me, or what I'm doing in India, I took a class this past spring on the Political Economy of Energy in India that includes this two-week trip. Oh, and I only paid $500, including airfare. Oh, and we get more than $500 back in spending money during the trip. It's part of my self-designed major: really cool classes. This morning we had 3 meetings with local bigwigs here in Mumbai, and tomorrow we start the first in our succession of site visits, going to what will soon be the largest oil refinery in the world in Gujarat, near the Pakistani border. Just as Musharraf seems to be on his last legs...

Anyway, its hot, I can't eat the food, and the majority of the city is as bad as any Cape Town township. In other words, I love it here!

Until next time...

George, I have your keys.

Also, after looking at the gorgeous faces of the specimens of human physical perfection above me, I really have to say: thanks for picking that picture, Andrew. I look like a date rapist. I had that mustache for like two days.

Come on!

Mr. Bryant?

Is that picture on the right side of Gilly's husband? He's real?

Amaaaazing.

Brilliant. The wireless in our house went out yesterday, so this was a joyous find upon arriving at work. Or, I guess I should say "work." For those of you who don't know, I am interning at the Environmental Protection Agency in DC this summer and sharing a townhouse in Georgetown with two Stanford students and three guys (2 from Georgetown). Yesterday was Day 1, and before I even entered the EPA building (which is approximately 4 blocks from the White House in the Federal Triangle !!!) my intern coordinator informed me that Tuesday we would be seeing Barack Obama and today (Monday) we'd be going to hear Thomas Friedman speak. What?! I don't even have my badge yet. Jesus. Though, the badge is pretty awesome, not gonna lie. And the EPA building is impressive. I hope the novelty of DC does not wear off, because looking down Pennsylvania Ave at the Capitol is awe-inspiring.

Anyhoo, so my day Monday involved getting off at the wrong bus stop (Connecticut is NOT Constitution in case you were wondering) and having to ask a bicycle cop where I was, figuring out my email, taking a tour (there are 6 other interns in our division), and going to see Thomas Friedman. Today included figuring out my voicemail, going to a Take Back America rally and seeing Barack Obama AND Jonathan Edwards speak (HOLY SHIT) and then meeting with my supervisor for 10 minutes so she could give me the huge binder my preceding intern had begun so I could read through it for tomorrow. My individual project involves finishing her "Innovation Newsletter," which is (as far as I can tell thus far) a list of suggestions for upper-level EPA management as to how they can improve their environmental management and policy techniques and basically update how they choose to run their departments. I'm explaining it terribly, but I think it's going to be really interesting. Worst case scenario, it's boring and I saw Obama speak today.

It's all ridiculously exciting for me, as I have never: A) lived in a city before; B) lived on my own before (a one-room triple does not count); C) had a "real" job; D) spent more than a week on the east coast. I am loving DC and loving living on my own (though it's fucking expensive). Our house is hilarious- the boys from Georgetown are adorable. Until we (three girls who go to school in California) went grocery shopping and put, you know, vegetables in the fridge, it was full of beer. And pretty nice beer, too. Haha. The most prominent thing in the living room is the TV and the hookah, but the house is in great condition and the guys are clearly proud of it. I am in one of the two rooms in the basement, and since the other guy hasn't arrived yet, I basically have my own floor. My room isn't tremendously big, and there are quite a few bugs and I refuse to walk barefoot on the carpet, but I have my own space. It's beautiful.

I also discovered the gym in the bottom of the Ronald Reagan building, so today I became that DC intern who goes to the gym after work in the basement of the building next door, watching CNN and reading the Smithsonian (either that or Aviation something or other). I'm officially, for better or for worse, an intern.

Postscript pictures

Hiah again. Since I know pretty much everyone who has access to this site, I wanted to let you guys know my pictures will most likely be loaded onto my Webshots page this summer so I don't have to keep them on my highly stealable camera. Feel free to peruse, and if you have problems, let me know.


http://community.webshots.com/user/nettiemoore4

Not yet the Cape...

Ladies and Gents, welcome to Gold Hill, Colorado. Thought you'd all like to see where Coloradans take their dads for father's day--- Gold Hill, I swear it's the model town Disney used for it's logger rides. It's a shithole with potheads all over the place and spotted mutts growling at each other and bathtubs filled with dirt and wild plants. Don't even think about cell phone service, and do not order the fish. It's questionable if it's even fish. But two gin&tonic s later, my stepdad Fred and I were debating evolution and psychic animal communication. Even my mother got tipsy (after one glass of wine because of the goddamn altitude).

















I can promise better pictures from south Africa. I'm waiting out the next couple of days before I leave (the 25th) while my mother introduces me to her world in Boulder and my stepdad Fred works in the basement. My dog, Grady is always begging for more rocks to be thrown for her to chase, and Tony, you'd love the hiking here. It is, well, extremely lonely here, what with Chaitkin being the only person I know for at least 1000 miles around us = (and him in jury duty!) but this blog is truly keeping me happy knowing you guys are still out there and I'm so excited to see something new! So, keep it up. More to come when things get exciting (I bought a seat belt cutter and 60% deet spray today... I'm not kidding, so good things to come)

PS. Picture uploading is a cinch, so get on it! Incriminating photos are more than welcome! (ie. Baboons having sex?)


Love from a distant mountaintop

picture settings

Those were right justified pictures in the medium setting. I might recommend the small setting for future use.

And by the user name hudsonvalley I mean Anthony. Great.

Am I still in Palo Alto?

Yes... I have not left yet. Hanging around a bit longer than everyone else was fun right up until that time we had to move out of the house. I did have a good time hanging around with Shwin, Steve, and Jenna, who were sort of the last hold outs. I managed to pack all of my shit into my truck (with the immense help of Steve) and left it at my cousins (where I'm staying for two days), and am excited to go home tomorrow.

I've had a great time rockclimbing with my cousin (4 times in 8 days!), and we all had a really nice picnic this Saturday. Some pictures are attached. One is my cousin Abby, one is of my cousins Mike, his kid Michael, and the friend's baby (trying to steal the beer bottle mind you), and then another one of the littlest guy nonchalantly trying to get what he wants. There is also a great one for posterity's sake of Will on the front porch during one of our last nights as a group.

I hope everyone is well, and I'll try to get some posts in from home, and then from Spain as my little Italian American family tries to fit in somewhere other than New York.

Jury Duty

I thought I had left blogging behind when I got back from abroad, but I have to agree that this is a brilliant way for us all to stay in touch.

I don't think home for me is quite as boring as upstate NY, but I did have the patriotic pleasure of answering my jury summons this morning.  8 AM, yuck. Turns out the trial is going to last at least 10 days, so they excused me after I wrote on the questionnaire that I had to leave the state next week. I guess it's nice that I didn't even have to lie to evade jury duty for the first time. Of course they managed to keep us there for more than 3 hours before excusing 25 of us. The other lucky 69 get to spend the rest of the afternoon answering questions from the judge and lawyers until they find their 12 or 14 person panel. I must admit I was a little curious about the case due to the projected time frame, but having been cut in the first round I never got to hear any of the details (apparently the judge cannot talk about anything regarding the trial without the lawyers present).  On the other hand, thank god my next ten days won't be spent in  an 18th District court room.

Otherwise, I'm spending the week trying to track down the small subset of high school friends that I still talk to once in a while AND happen to be in town right now. I doubt the list will push a half dozen. I'll echo everyone's feelings of loneliness. Even though I've come home many times since leaving for college, I'm never prepared for how quite my house is without the general background noise or constant activity of a college residence.  And as great as tv-links is (and yes, I too have been spending plenty of time with it since leaving Stanford), it will never pass for the fun we all had (and hopefully will have) together.

Lastly, a quick (and I think very funny story): As many of you know, I spent the last two summers working for EPGY, Stanford's biggest nerd camp for middle and high school students (biggest both in number of attendees and degree of nerdishness). I got a message last night from one of my 2005 campers who just finished her freshman year at Brown and is working for a comparable program at the University of Iowa right now. Apparently, one of her kids (16 years old I think) secretly packed up all of her belongings yesterday-their session is only about half over-and in the middle of the night (~1:30 AM) was seen fleeing the residence, luggage in hand, to a waiting car that promptly drove off. 

Hi from Upstate New York

I've been pretty skeptical about blogs ever since their popularity exploded, but this one has two distinct draws that I can't possibly pass up: first, an easy way to stay in touch with everyone, and second, an easy way to see that adorable squash picture of Andrew. It's a win-win situation! No, in all honesty, it's a fantastic idea - props to those who conceived of it.

Ithaca is boring. Scratch that - very boring. Will, I empathize with the lack of late-night conversational partners. My first night here was pretty lonely, sleeping alone in a quiet house. It made me appreciate the life we have at college, and have the first of many OhGodItsEndingWayTooSoon panics. But then I remembered that I did, in fact, have a friend right there in the room: TVlinks.com! Steve, Undeclared is fantastic. I had forgotten how good it was.

Aside from that, things are good. Hanging out with the two friends who are left in town, picking up golf again, and starting work. I'll write more when exciting things happen, but don't hold your breath.

Tetons

So I'm sitting in bed at 1 AM in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. The rest of my family is sound asleep and I'm alone in the dark, wrestling with all of my usual late-night mental bullshit and wishing for all the world that I could wander around Durand looking for people to talk to. I figure checking my email is as close as I'll get and what do I find? You've set up a "front porch" blog? Un-fucking-believable.

Anyway, Jackson's pretty sweet. We've spent the days hiking, biking, and white-water kayaking (what barbarians build boats without keels?). Although I'm fairly skilled with sea kayaks, the transition to whitewater did not go smoothly. My brother and I kept a running score of the number of times we capsized: I tipped 7 times to his 4, but while he had to eject each time, I only went swimming twice since I can eskimo roll. We're still not sure who won.

While I'm loving my little foray into nature--it's the closest thing to a home I have these days--I miss you all terribly

Yes: Paper, plastic, aluminum No: Soiled cardboard, passports

Julie called me today and left a nice message. "Hi Em, I'm not sure why your phone is on, but I just wanted to call and tell you that I just drove by a gas station where prices were over $4.00 a gallon, thought you'd appreciate. Talk to you soon!"

Well, turns out the phone was on because in the process of packing I managed to, yes, throw away my passport. In fact, I was so paranoid about losing it that I had it in my hand to go get photocopies, but meanwhile decided to toss some boxes and, low and behold, the trash got taken out before I realized that it could, in fact, be somewhere other than my living room.

So here I am in San Francisco enjoying the fog and working 13 hours days to improve my survey (I think this may be some type of self-flagellation for being such a total idiot). But there are certainly some good things about seeing the fam, people watching in my favorite city in the world, and letting my brain reconvene. Meanwhile my travel buddy went ahead to Guate and says it's wonderful and that he had a nice little night on the town drinking and hookah bar-ing, so I'm sure once I get there on Saturday I'll have quite a bit to tell.

Miss you all already.

Boston (A Sample Post)

I arrived home in a bit of a mess. I quickly showered. I was shocked to discover that my skin tone visibly lightened. I put a Red Sox hat on my wet hair and went to Fenway Park. Breathing in the sweet aroma of my drunk Irish brethren, I felt at peace with the world. Watching Manny Ramirez turn on an inside fastball didn't hurt either. Coming home from the game, with my eyes at half mast, I couldn't help but notice the verdant greens of New England seemed extra bright, as though flushed with victory. My father burst my bubble.

"Its been raining a fucking shitload," he said demurely.

Unfazed I went home and fell asleep, still in my jeans. I awoke the next day looking for Victor but Victor was no where to be found. Only my dog remained in the house, sniffing the lonely corners of the living room. The three thousand miles of the previous night's flight came back to me in a rush. The distance. The sense of loss. The fat man with a cheetos mustache.

I began to wonder what it truly meant to be home.

Front Porch on the Cape

Your assumption is well-founded, Andrew Burmon. You guys had all better contribute, ok? This is going to be my reading material whilst resting after battling baboons, so it's important.
xx