i can't eat without throwing up. i can't sleep, and when i do, i can't wake up in the morning. i sleep through my alarm until i stumble outta bed at 12 or 1 in the afternoon. the cigarettes make me shakier than i already am, and the anxiety meds don't even begin to fuckin TOUCH me. the booze helps at night, but there's no way i can get enough into me to calm these nerves and loosen up the fucking tightly wound KNOT of my stomach.

time to myself would fucking help, but his nonsense texts and calls worry me and make me feel sicker than if i were at home with him. because i don't know what the fuck to expect. i don't know what he's going to fucking do.

cause he is not ok. this is not ok. i am not FUCKING OK.

god what i would give to get in my car and take the fuck off right now, just not come back. get out to the desert, hot and dry and sand and dirt and red rock and sage, and just stay. just leave this bullshit and fucking try to start to feel whole again.

they gotta hot dog stand set up in downtown augusta. downtown a-town, like me and sam call it. it's that time a year. they have em advertised on the sign out front as "hawt DAWGS" in either regular or chili. you can smell em from a mile away.

i had a dream (purely non-sexual) about hot dogs last night, and woke up this morning cravin one with allllll the fuckin fixings.

matt was already up when i woke up. he'd been up for hours. he was pacing back and forth and wringing his hands and lookin about as bad as i've seen him. and i've seen him in pretty bad shape during the past few weeks. that worried crease where his eyebrows meet has probably gotten 10 times deeper since he's started to get real bad. i hugged him so tight. so tight and i could feel the tension, the fucking fear, running through him.

outta all the deadly diseases and shit out there, i think mental illness takes the motherfucking cake when it comes to pain.

i held his hand the whole time we were drivin to the psychiatric department of the hospital, one hand on the steering wheel. he almost changed his mind a million times. went in with him & stayed til they kicked my sorry ass outta there. he handed me his cell phone, his smokes, and his sweatshirt, and i started cryin. or tryin not to, anyway. (i fucking hate crying. i don't fuckin do it.) by the time we were done squeezin and kissin each other goodbye we both had wet faces and bloodshot eyes.

i scribbled down the visiting hours on a business card (i'm gonna be workin during most of em) with blurry eyes and got the hell out of there like they wanted me to. even in hospitals, people look at you funny when you're walkin down the hall with teary eyes and wet cheeks.

outside i lit a smoke and sat on the hospital steps. thought about matt being stuck there for however long it takes for him to come out stable, about both of us sleepin alone, him in a fucking hospital bed with fluorescent lights and machines and the smell of sick. thought about his brother and the apartment and shit, too. but mostly bout how i wish there was SOME fucking way i could fix his brain, whatever fucked up wiring there is in there, and make him better.

i stopped by sam and sarah's when i left the hospital, and we walked downtown, where i got my first hot dog of the summer. made some sorta hawt-diggety-dawg joke to the vendor, and loaded it with onions and relish and ketchup and mustard and even fucking HOT SAUCE. walked down by the kennebec to eat, sun burnin my puffed up bloodshot eyes, and i swear that thing tasted like a fuckin piece of heaven.

why can't a lesbian diet and wear makeup at the same time? cause it's hard to eat jenny craig with mary kay on your face.

last night the hotel lobby was filled with 50 or 60 mary kay consultants, and sittin right out in front of the hotel was a pink fucking CADDY. they were having a meeting, and they were all dressed right up and made right up and SOAKED in perfume. at first i was thinkin "sweet, this ain't half bad", cause i've always had a thing for super-prissy older chicks, and a chunk of em were pretty ok to look at. but 60 makeup-obsessed, freakishly enthusiastic housewives packed into a hotel lobby make a fucking HELL of a lot of noise, and by the time they were done i wanted to fucking OFF myself. as they were leaving, the leader of the group (who was WAY too perky for her own good. if she'da smiled any bigger i think her face woulda split open) came up to me and said "if you're working next tuesday, you should come join us!!!! we're doing EYES next week!!!! and with a little mascara we could make YOURS just POP!!!!!!!" i almost died.

yesterday the thermometers were climbin up toward 50. gardiner smelled like wet pavement, mud, the dirty fucking kennebec river, and a winter's worth of dog shit, cat shit, and pigeon shit thawing out with the layers of ice. ain't sayin i'm a huge fan of the smell of old thawed-out shit, but this time of year it smells like spring.

tomorrow's payday and i think i'm gonna buy myself a brand new fishing pole. i'm probably jumpin the gun considering it's only fucking march. but fuck. i had a dream the other night about fishing off the cobboseeconte bridge, bare legs danglin toward the water and a beer in my hand. in the dream the sun was beating down and i had a bathing suit on and i was thinkin pretty damn hard about jumping into the water. i woke up curled around matt, 8 o' clock in the morning, and the sun was flooding in through the window all hot and bright and yellow.

when i was just a little thing i used to be outta the house and into the woods as soon as spring hit. the woods behind our house in litchfield had old stone walls and streams you could follow for miles, bottle dumps you could dig in forever and still be able to pull out shit like old tins and toy cars and leather shoes. barefoot, with lunch packed, i'd take off in the morning and come home at nightfall covered in mud, scraped and scratched and bruised right up with mosquito bites that wouldn't go away for days. and i'd come home with buckets full of old bottles and sardine cans and dishes and rusted out model trains, bird nests and rocks and sometimes a couple frogs or snakes or salamanders just for kicks.

i wanted to be tom sawyer or daniel fuckin boone or some shit.

maybe i still do.

me and sam woke up early this morning, met up, and hit up dave's diner for breakfast with our buddy ray. (matt sleeps like a log til noon most days, easy. breakfast ain't his thing.) (breakfast IS my thing.) scrambled eggs and hashbrowns smothered in hot sauce with bacon on the side hits the spot like nothin else. the waitress was super nice, the food was super cheap, and sam managed to spill her leftover sausage biscuit with gravy on MY FUCKING LEG and car seat as i was driving us home. we almost went off the road cause we were laughin so hard trying to scoop it up with our fingers and throw it out the fucking car windows.

sam's pup vinnie didn't quit licking her hands for 10 minutes when we got back. can't blame him. that gravy was pretty fucking good, even if most of it ended up on my on my crotch and the side of my car.

as we got outta the car in gardiner, this SMOKIN HOT BLONDE in a red bull car parked right behind us. SMOKIN HOT. in a RED BULL CAR. i mean, this car had a fucking man-sized fake can of redbull stuck to the roof, and two coolers where the trunk should be. we smiled at her and made some crack about "where's the jagermeister?" and she threw us a few free cans. i told sam that the next time i see her i'll go up and be all "hey baby, can i be the jager to your red bull?"

later that morning we hoofed it down to the grocery store to get a bottle of wine (she's gotta method of pickin wine that involves it having a good label, being from a year that was good for her, and coming from a place that she likes). on the way back, ears frozen and nose running, i found a comic book from the 50s frozen into the sidewalk: "TWO-GUN KID! THE WILDEST COWBOY IN THE WILD WEST!" the comic's ok. i don't really give two shits about comics. but the ads? holy FUCK. me and sam spent an hour or two sitting on the couch with vinnie passed out between us, drinkin wine (she picked a good one. tasty shit. warmed us right up.) and reading em to each other, tipsy and warm and laughin our asses off:

1. create your own GIANT 7 FOOT TALL walking-flashing MONSTER ROBOT! scare friends and family when you walk towards them as a LIFE-SIZE TERRIFYING MONSTER ROBOT. no one can see you hiding inside. his GIANT-SIZED ARMS defy EVERYTHING IN HIS PATH. he acts JUST LIKE a CREATURE from OUTER SPACE.

2. BE TALLER! you can stand 2-6 inches taller in a few weeks. all ages. no gimmicks. guaranteed. send 35 cents to TALL-UP!

3. VAMPIRE BAT - IT'S LIFE SIZE! only $1.00. DOES ALL THIS AT YOUR COMMAND: rattles windows with terrifying, loud, creepy sounds! climbs, crawls, dances, jumps, floats in air! eyes glow EERILY in the dark! terrorize your friends on those dark, scary nights. seems so alive! so realistic! even fools other bats! amazes and shocks everyone! monster size! hideous fangs! HORROR OUTFIT FREE WITH ORDER!!!

4. the KEY to your FUTURE! be a locksmith, like me.

5. 25 LIVE SEAHORSES FOR $2.49. kit has two mated pairs of seahorses, including ONE PREGNANT MALE. who will give birth to as many as 25 babies. marine salt, food, instructions included PLUS a LIVE MARINE SNAIL!

6. real switchblade.........COMB!!! 9 inches long. this is a REAL SWITCHBLADE. the blade is a COMB!! terrific GIFT item. fine tooth comb is GREAT for sideburns, and mustache TOO!

holy fucking christ, it's been about a year since i even fucking looked at this thing.

right now i'm at work with a tenacious stomach ache, a cup of shitty hotel coffee that probably ain't helping, and a bad hair day. i'm listening online to the songs that i usually play on the jukebox at the pool hall on monday nights when matt's playing and sam's working the counter (workin the counter looking tough and unimpressed when really i think she gets a kick outta everyone who comes in that place. god knows i do. she puts extra olives in my bloody marys and rolls joints right there behind the counter that she smokes when me and matt go out for cigarettes). i want a cigarette, and i gotta bring my buddy frank home at 11 when what i really wanna do is go back home, have a beer or two, and climb into bed with matt.

someone who stayed in the hotel last night plastered the headboard of the bed with bumper stickers for dunkin donuts. they're sitting in a pile at the front desk and say things like "you kin do it", "i kin, kin you?", and "i know i kin".

the other day i had someone come in and ask to exchange 75 cents in change for a different 75 cents, because they'd put their 75 cents in their pocket with chewed gum and it had gotten all sticky.

these things get old after a while.

me and matt and his older brother nibba (if you know gardiner, you know nibba. he's a 46 year old little boy with a fuckin heart of gold. got long blonde hair that he swears he wants to dye firecracker red, rides his bike all over town, and pretty much lives down at the hall. always wears a reflector vest, and the guy carries 25 feet of rope in each of his pockets. you know. in case he ever needs it.) all moved into a big gardiner apartment a month or so ago. it's right on water street, and our living room windows (which are HUGE and and dirty from the outside and run from the ceiling to the floor) look out over downtown. sometimes in the mornings i get up before matt and sit crosslegged on the floor in front of the window, smoking and drinking coffee. face in the sun and eyes on the people on the street. sit there and wake up and then wake matt up by kissin his face and rubbing his back til he quits his snorin and realizes it's almost fuckin noon.

if you'da told me a year or so ago that i'd be seeing and livin with a 38 year old pool shark, i woulda told you you were loco in the cabasa. crazy in the head. outta your fucking mind.

but when we're curled up sleeping at night we hold each other tight as we can and still we're not close enough.

i met matt through sam. first time i talked to him was when sam first started workin at the pool hall. i was sittin at the bar shootin the shit with her, and matt thought we were girlfriends. i thought maybe me and her were on our way there, too. (we weren't.) he was wearing an arrowhead around his neck and had a redsox cap on, turned around backwards with the "B" in the front. he bought us each a beer, told us he had a photographic memory, that he remembered everything, and then proceeded to call me christina for the rest of the night. me and sam kept lookin at each other and laughin, making smartass comments to each other behind our beer mugs. he was so fucking awkward and sweet and trying so hard to be friendly that it was hard to take him with a straight face.

now i adore that man. and i think he's pretty smitten with me.

some fat ass ugly douchebag with no teeth comes up to the counter a minute ago and says: "i see you got your hair done again". i say: "no...?" he says: "you don't see many hairstyles like that. you should let it grow longer, down to the middle of your back." i say: "i like it short." he says: "short hair makes a girl look ugly. you grow it long and you'll have all the guys chasin ya." i almost tell him to lose a couple hundred pounds, wear some deodorant, get a nice set of dentures, and learn to quit saying stupid fucking shit and girls might not wanna reach over the counter and give him a motherfucking black eye.

the thought of having all the guys chase me isn't exactly appealing.

i need a cigarette.

there are ice fishing shacks out on the kennebec near the bridge (the one they call the "pearl harbor remembrance bridge", for some ungodly fucking reason). you can always tell when people have been out in the shacks. they smell like smoke and salt and whatever they manage to catch. me and matt and sam wanna go get one of those shacks and a couple of 12 packs and go out and spend the day smelting. when you're ice fishing, you're supposed to bite the head off the first one you catch, or else you'll have shit luck for the rest of the day. me and sam are both up for chompin off a couple of fish heads, but matt thinks it's fuckin disgusting. i told him i'll take care of his catch and make sure to give him a big smooch after. he looked scared.

i think i might wear the pants in this relationship.

today was almost 40 and i saw two guys walking down the sidewalk on my way to work wearing shorts. this is maine. 40 degrees in february is a fucking heat wave.

i been having dreams lately where i wake up and it's still february but it's 90 degrees outside and the grass is green and the lakes are warm. i'm itchin for spring. itchin for summer. itchin to get my fishing pole out and be able to walk outta my apartment and be down at the docks in 30 seconds. itchin for sweaty nights, and bare feet warm on the brick sidewalk on the way to the pool hall. bonfires at friend's houses, drunken bike rides back from hallowell, and hot hot days with my feet in the water and my hair pulled back.

come on, february. git a move on.

the sun's so hot lately that it feels like swimmin' weather. i jumped in a week ago, while the ice was still floating around in chunks. hit the water and couldn't breathe, jumped out quick and shivered in the sun til i got warm again. i took a couple diggers on my bike; got the scrapes and bruises to prove it. been working outside; got the muscles to prove it. been sunbathing buck naked every chance i get; got the tan to prove it. been missin' him; got the long face to prove it.

ain't no big thang, he's a bit of a fucking dog, and hell. he'll be the first to admit it. i'm just a damn ass fool, and let myself start to fall for that big ol' lug of a man.

and shit, i really do miss the fucking guy, big oaf that he is.

i gave my two week notice at the senator last week! i got a job up at lily bay state park for the summer. way the fuck up north in greenville, on moosehead lake. i'm thrilled. my apartment bedroom is in boxes, and the job starts on may 11th. i'm looking for a camper at the moment, they're gonna give me a place to park one all summer long for free. use their showers, their bathrooms, live right the hell in the park. and for FREE! jesus h. christ.

my birthday was this past sunday. ended up hauling my buddy frank down to platinum plus, believe it or not. warm night, naked ladies dancing round poles, lots of booze, lap dances, and shit eating grins that lasted days. what could be better?

so maybe i'm a bit of a dog, too. hey, what can ya do?

if anyone's got, or knows of, a cheap camper for sale , lemme know! i'll be all over it.

hot DAMN, it's spring out there. sunny and a little above forty. smells like mud & melt. time to get out shorts & tank tops.

i'm lookin' for a new job. something outside. applying to state parks and itching to get outta the senator, with its huge daily rations of bullshit.

and dude. leave me outta the drama. i don't want nothin' to do with it.

this is about all i gotta say about my life as of late:














and that's that.

shit's melting outside. i got today off. & today i'm gonna go prance around augusta in the sun in a t shirt & jeans (and probably that old hat, too). gonna open all our apartment windows and all my car windows and air out this stale winter smell. gonna cook all day long, & when ol' derek gets outta work i'm gonna cart his ass down to the old goat. and we're gonna drink good beer and play a couple good games of cribbage. and then we're gonna find a good place to watch the lunar eclipse. maybe out on the streets in richmond, maybe out in the middle of china lake. watch that moon disappear.

we're in a room without a door
and i am sure without a doubt
they're gonna wanna know how we got in here
and they're gonna wanna know
how we plan to get out
we better have a good explanation
for all the fun we had
cause they're coming for us
and baby
they are going
to be mad

right this minute i got two days off in a row and one five-dollar bill to last me through til my next paycheck. my gas tank's a notch below empty. gas is $3.15 a gallon. and do the math: $5 divided by $3.15 comes out to a whopping 1.597301587301587301. that's right. what do you do on days off with no money and one and a half gallons of gas?

last night at the hotel there was this man who stumbled drunk outta the bar and fell onto the floor in the lobby. i heard something hit like a sack of potatoes and ran out to see what the hell fell off the wall or whatever, and there was this old guy just sitting there looking kinda dazed. he got up and asked me to call him a cab to bring him up to the super 8 motel, & so i did. called him a cab and he proceeded to fall sound asleep in the lobby chair. when the cab arrived, i woke him up and told him his taxi was waiting, and he just looked kinda funny and said "taxi? taxi? i don't need a taxi. i ain't goin' anywhere." i told the cab driver the story, and mr. drunk-ass sack-of-potatoes proceeded to fall asleep in our lobby chair for three hours, waking up just a little once in a while to moan and say "ohhh man. oh mannn."

it snowed a fucking foot and a half on monday! i woke up early that morning and had to trudge through snow up to my calves to take out the trash. drove into china that afternoon with a foot on the ground and snow still coming down strong, and went to bed late that night with cold hands and feet, listening to d. snore right beside me and to the snow hitting the window right above his bed.

i'd forgotten how goddamn nice it is to wake up on a cold cold morning, one of those mornings where you swear you can almost see your breath inside the goddamn house, with someone's warm body curled right around your own and their face right against yours.

in the mornings lately it looks so sunny and warm through the blinds. it got up to 55 last week, before the snow came, and i saw at least two people walking across capitol bridge wearing knee-length shorts. i smiled at em out my open car windows. cause only in maine do you see people in shorts when the temperature creeps up past 50.

winter's going by fast this year. fast with so many evenings spent at tom & amanda's, playing cards & darts with bud light and good wine. fast with sledding down huge hills onto china lake. fast with smoke breaks on the porch & megan dancing in the snow hip hop style with her fluffy purple boots. fast with slow nights at the senator and plenty of time to read. fast with cold nights spent with somebody warm. there's so much snow. so much snow and so many plans to go ice fishing and snowmobiling and sledding and skiing. and i'm figuring there's just enough time for all that shit before winter starts to melt and i start craving summer again.

so break me to small parts,
let go in small doses.
but spare some for spare parts;
there might be some good ones,
like you might make a dollar.
i'm inside your mouth now:
behind your tonsils;
peeking over your molars.
you're talking to her now
and you've eaten something minty and you're making that face that i like
& you're going in in for the kill kill
for the killer kiss kiss
for the kiss
kiss.

tonight i think i am going to sleep in litchfield. pack up tomorrow's clothes, leave megan a note and drive from here to litchfield. curl up in a ball by the woodstove and not wake up until i absolutely have to. cause i know that what i heard tonight is gonna make for one hell of a shitty work day tomorrow. and the next day. and lotsa days for a while here.

i feel like a fool. a damn-ass fool.

my mouth is dry and my stomach hurts and even the cat won't come too close cause of so many cigarettes. so many cigarettes to settle my nerves when there's nothin' that could kick this sick-to-my-stomach feeling. nothing.

fucking a.

go red sox! fuckin' right.

so! me and megan are MOVING INTO AN APARTMENT on november 1st! it's gonna be right in augusta. two big bedrooms, a huge living room, nice kitchen (with a dishwasher! and a stove! and a fridge!), and a damn nice little bathroom. heat and hot water included, 700 bucks a month split between the two of us. so hell. not bad. i can't wait to get my ass in there cleaning and decorating.

hot damn.

today i went out and bought a couple lamps and some candles. a few water glasses and an oven mitt. and i gotta say that i never thought i'd get such a thrill outta buying a fucking oven mitt. this nesting instinct is turning me into a regular martha stewart. it's disgusting.

that fall feeling's getting to me. i been getting out thick socks and wearing my old bomber jacket with the woolly collar. kicking leaves around when i walk down the street.

i just bought two lobsters & two artichokes and a thing of butter. and i'm headed to jeremy's in a couple minutes for supper and movies with cats on our laps.

so adios.

the roads are crawling with wild things. walking running staring with bright yellow eyes in the headlights or flattened in the middle of the road. nights are getting colder and night is when they are out. heading the hell out of here. or the hell underground. into trees. into tiny places underneath wheelbarrows and flowerpots and haybales. places to wait out the cold months.

cause they can tell cold's coming. they can see it hear it smell it taste it feel it.

and i can too.

today i went out and bought warm clothes. cause tank tops and shorts are starting to look and feel ridiculous. the wind blowing against my bare arms and legs has quit feelin' good and has started to feel less soft and more sharp. clawing clawing clawing, the kinda wind that makes you pull your shoulders in around you to keep warm. feet tucked under your ass, hands in your armpits. shivery little goosebumps all over and chattering teeth.

the sound of leaves crunching under my tires when i drive with the window open makes me sick. and god this migration longing has gotta stem from some deep down animal instinct. some kinda primal urge that no amount of indoor heating, flannel-lined jeans, and electric blankets could ever kick. when i wake up curled into a ball with my knees tucked into my chest and i can see my breath in the air, i start thinkin' that maybe it's time to go.

me & megan are looking for apartments together. both of us gotta get out and both of us are making shit next to nothin' at the senator. so both of us are gonna see if we can share an apartment. split that rent down the middle. find a place with heat & water included. stop spending money on dumb shit, apply for food stamps, and have a place of our own.

i got someone chasing me while i'm chasing someone else and they're chasing god knows what. and ain't that the way.

i'msohotforyou
i'msohotforyou
i'msohotforyou
and you're so cold.

can't frigging believe it's almost september. where the hell did august go? how about july? june? my calendar's still on may, with some picture of a spring-green field up above the month. summer's flown by so fast i ain't even had time to flip the page.

lately i've been listening to a lotta pearl jam. a lotta joan armatrading on the record player, turned up loud. with friends i can smile. but with a lover i can throw my head back & really laugh, really laugh.

thursday jeremy & me are going on up to small's falls again before it gets too cold to swim.

and tomorrow i'm gonna drive down to popham beach and bodysurf all day long, go to work at 7 sunburned, with my muscles aching from beach walking and swimming against the waves.

i am madly in love. with this sexy beast:



it's a '99 subaru forester. only 98k miles and in damn near perfect condition inside and out. (i was showing off the clean & shiny engine to ellen today, all giddy. she looked at me like i was nuts. i didn't care.) runs smooth as hell and accelerates like crazy. i put down the couple thousand bucks i'd been saving in a hollowed out book, took out a loan for the rest, filled out the paperwork and drove 'er to work this past friday. parked where i could see her in the security cameras, and caught myself staring at the t.v. monitor every goddamn chance i got. megan and shawn laughed their asses off at me. i didn't care.

so now i'm flat broke til my next paycheck, but i got myself one hell of a car.

we have a garden full of tomatoes and i've been eating them one by one, sliced up with salt and pepper. and they're the sweetest i've ever had.

goddamn you, summer, why've you gotta be so short?

1. r.i.p. my old green subaru. i took her into ed aka my car guy two days ago. he put the thing up in the air and as we looked at the engine from below, he pointed out all of the things that would eventually need fixing. new radiator, 2 or 3 hundred bucks. gas filler neck, $130. new tires, at least a couple hundred. strut mounts and sway bar links and an alignment after all of it. i asked if it was worth it. he said that, at 237,988 miles, it's probably time for a new car.

and so tomorrow i am going car shopping.

2. i went to the bank to cash my paycheck last weekend, and they accidentally gave me 245.07 over what they were supposed to give me back. after a lotta dreaming about how much i really could use an extra 250 bucks, i brought the money back. & the woman who'd made the mistake was so relieved she looked like she was gonna climb over the counter and kiss me.

3. when i was growing up, my family was so poor that my brothers had to cut holes in the pockets of their pants just so they'd have something to play with.

4. the air lately is hot and heavy. last night driving home from work the air was so thick with mist that my arm out the window came in with little drops of dew on the tip of every tiny hair.

5. i have finally learned how to eat an ice cream while driving without smearing it across the windshield. i have not learned how to eat an ice cream without smearing it across my face.

6. wouldn't you just shit to see me driving down the road in one of those jacked up mud-runnin' pickup trucks with flames going down the side?

gotta be the best goddamn fourth of july i've had in years. no buts about it.

last week i ran and fell into the ocean for the first time this summer. the water was salty and that ocean-cold that numbs your feet and toes when you walk through it. feels icey at first and then just blends as your skin starts to tingle. i ducked my head under and came rushing up for air. spent the rest of the afternoon in a towel with my teeth chattering, and went to bed still salty and tingling and smiling.

today was the first time the sun's come out in almost a friggin' week. a week! shit. as much as i hate the rain this time of year, the sun feels 5 times as good when you haven't seen it for days. no more soggy shoes and wet driver's seats, getting mud up my back when i bike down a dirt road. caiti and i spent today sprawled on the docks in bras and boxers, jumping in and outta the water and catching sunfish with crackers and peppermint chewing gum.

caiti made me a picture of us from a late-night polaroid, paint, and lotsa the dirty pages from shitty romance novels. i adore it. it's going on my wall.

hannah e frankel is getting her ass home for a couple days in a week. a week! shit. (all these weeks.) hannah frankel. the hannah frankel who i haven't seen in a year and a goddamn half, and who i love like family. i'm gonna take that girl all over the place and out to supper and out on the water and. my god. it'll be like old times.

and right now it's gonna be like bedtime.

(i'm smitten + he ain't gotta clue.)

i've got a boy crush. ok? ok.

right now i am eating an avocado with honey. it's cinco de mayo! and today at the hotel my old dentist walked by and yelled "CAROLINE! HAVE YOU BEEN FLOSSING?". and this girl i've had a crush on since i was five checked into a room with her husband of two or three hours. she was in her wedding dress. she looked gorgeous. he was in a baseball cap. he looked boring. and goddamn lucky.

this summer i'm driving up to camp every chance i get. every time i have a couple days off in a row and can swing the gas money. i'll throw a spare tire (a bicycle a flashlight a fishing pole and a couple changes of clothes) in the back of the car, get the keys and passbooks from gram, and drive the four hours late late at night. keep a tally of deer and moose i see on the way. and get there early in the morning when it's just getting light, so i can see moosehead lake and the camp and the overgrown driveway. i'll catch fish to for lunch and pick blueberries for pies and lay on the shore til i get hot enough to swim and swim til i get cold enough to get out again.

(steve's ashes are up there right now. we're going to all get together and spread them this summer. but it'd be nice to be there where he is beforehand, too. i miss him.)

ok. it's too damn nice to be in this library. out i go.