4.11.06

everything is splitting. people's lives are heading off in different directions. it sounds hackneyed to say it, but it's true. i'm not talking about physical locations. it's more like the scope of everyone's life is narrowing and so the overlap between the experiences of my friends is disappearing.

the weekend was full. driving down to boston with eli and niki, niki and i switching off responsibility for navigating since neither of us wanted it. despite efforts to the contrary, we were lost within two minutes of crossing the tobin bridge, true to boston form. it took us three tries for each turn and a completely counterproductive foray into somerville, but we eventually found where we needed to be. we masqueraded as bu students and hustled a chilly hawaiian into the paradise rock club.

after an hour or so floating around the lounge waiting for the opening act, said chilly hawaiian and i managed to get acidentally drunk on gin and tonics. this happens sometimes.

everything was blue and red lights and very indie people standing splay legged with their arms crossed, refusing to dance. the three of us, on the other hand, danced shamelessly, waving arms and dancing feet. it was wolf parade. it was the best concert i'd seen since the arcade fire (another weekend i designated "full," it turns out). the bass hit my sternum and niki was genuinely happier than i've seen her in months.

the ride home demonstrated that the way to navigate boston is to have your navigator be slightly inebriated. this way, caution is thrown to the wind and roads are taken nearly at random. "nearly at random" seems to correspond exactly with boston's ideas of highway organization.

flashbulbs: cruising through danvers at 1:30 in the morning, searching for an open gas station. finding one in salisbury, new hampshire, and watching eli get a sandwich in the midst of truckers and a female nightshift worker who thought eli's appearance was the highlight of her night. coasting the rest of the way home on a sleep deprived delerium, the calibur of which hadn't been experienced since high school. it was good.

the next day was time with eric, driving around his coastal roads in brunswick and harpswell, talking about things. heated seats and mutual agreement over the smell of jelly belly buttered popcorn in the air. moon halos and occupied signs at land's end. eel fishermen near midnight, headlights moving down in the culverts. it was the most comfortable, safest time i've had in weeks. if i could, i'd stay inside that space for as long as possible.

on sunday, i wrote some ad copy for industrial laundry equipment and surprised myself at how much i liked doing it. the stakes are raised; wanting something this much is dangerous.

in the meantime, forsythia is blooming in portland and little shoots of green grass are poking their heads up on the quad. i bought myself a matte gold ring to commemorate nothing more than the intensity of these past few months (a new propensity for good jewelry has sprung up since jon got me the bracelet). in the mail, i got a mysterious note from someone who turns out to be a retired religion professor and today, stroopwafels and dutch candies from karina.

everything is splitting. i'm curious to see who's left when it's all said and done.