red sox nation state of mind

(this is not an advertisement, I swear)

Living coffee shop to coffee shop my first few days in town. Espresso Royale in the bright, blacktop-hot August morning, claiming my wheat bagel and reading my book about the Brooklyn Dodgers. I come back to Barnes and Noble later, claim a wooden-backed chair and sit and write for an hour. I camp out in Dunkin Donuts in Kenmore Square, sweet thick iced coffee surging through my blood till my hands shake and I can’t get the words down on paper fast enough, and freshman kids sit down next to me talking about the crazy night they had last night at this MIT frat party. One kid’s phone rings and he tells his friend dude, you gotta get up here, Boston is crazy, college is the best. They all know each other already, they all have pictures to show each other on their phones, they are in their first 48 hours of College and this Dunkies is the place to be away from home. Wally the Green Monster greets us at the door – not bad advertising, as he actually talked me into getting a Coolatta two days before, which turned my mouth bright blue for an hour afterwards.

I camp out in the dining hall on Bay State, empty salad plate in front of me for an hour as I sit and read and talk to my friends miles and miles away. Next day I hit Starbucks for the air-conditioning and a caramel frappucino, an excuse to sit and write some more about the Arizona desert. It’s too hot to be outside, too dark in this narrow room to stay inside, so I bounce back and forth trying to think of things I can achieve before Thursday morning. Minor grocery shopping. Textbooks. Organization. Preparation for a segment of my life to start up again. I bounce coffee shop to coffee shop, air-conditioning to shade, grocery store to CVS, bed to hallway to dining hall, buzzing nervous at the end of summer under a bright blue sky.

and we'll all float on okay.

found this yesterday. somebody actually knocked the cover off the ball up at the Pleasant Unity field. (quite reminiscent of The Sandlot, right? it was awesome.)

I have to do all this stuff before I leave. but it's actually not that much, right? totally doable. at least the things I technically need to do are manageable. stuff I said I'd have written by the end of the summer, that's a little more up in the air, but that's to be expected.

I know the shit out of the mountain roads of Western Pennsylvania after this summer, by the way. and OH-7 and WV-2. any road that runs along a major river, you can pretty well bet that I've driven along it in the last few months.

this is the place where all the junkies go (time gets fast but everything gets slow)

August is the weirdest month to me. weirder than ever this year, and I think that's only going to intensify every year now. till I'm living in San Jose or Cambridge or Vancouver or Austin or something.

you see I don’t usually drink like this

it was something in the way

the sounds of the West Coast came through to me

I don’t usually want to act like this

sit in the backyard all night

trees and heat spinning all around me

fine upstanding kid but I could use something

I could use a shot of whatever you can find

I’d like to sit in the grass with my friends

seven hundred miles to the west

watch the sun slow us down

and take this opportunity to rest

August days, the air itself is dangerous

makes you crazy, makes you look behind you twice

halfway between leaving here and coming home

crickets in the trees, noise in the dying light

ashtray floors, dirty clothes and filthy jokes

it turns out I was right about being able to live on the road, I think. it doesn't bother me not knowing where I'm going to sleep from one night to the next. it doesn't bother me living on coffee and whatever other food I can stumble across, keeping an eye on every exit sign for a place to stop and rest. I like trip!world. I want to live there. that's enough stability for me. the freedom to go where I want and when is enough stability for me. I can write for travel magazines and sites for money. I can play guitar on the streets. I require very little money to exist, in general. I just need someone to talk to, somewhere to go, and a way to get there. I truly think I could live that way indefinitely.

my Ted Leo love is coming back to the surface with a vengeance, and the Dropkick Murphys keep coming up on shuffle and Pedroia's about to get off the DL, finally. this all probably means it's time for me to go back to Boston. I'm in a weird place where I'm wanting to go back, and missing it there, but also preemptively missing it here, and simultaneously WANTING TO DO EVERYTHING and just wanting to sleep and read and watch baseball. hooooo hum.

reading with the tv on

done working my shitty retail job for the summer. hurrah! I have financed my voyage to Minnesota and some decent clothes for school, and I can buy Sox and Bruins tickets (for when the Pens are in town, and also whenever my friends and I decide to go because we're grown-ass women and we caaaaaan) this year without feeling way guilty. call it a success. ignore the fact that my neck keeps doing this popping thing, hurts like the dickens, etc. I'm putting myself on the 15-day disabled list from life, or at least from lifting watermelons. also my shoulder hurts. if it fucks with my slider or my curveball I will not be amused.

currently rediscovering the Ramones. fuck yeah, I'm fifteen. need to get to a record store sometime soon because there's a lot of stuff I want to get. finally listened to the Husker Du album I got last summer and didn't like it all that much. they're not as good as the Replacements, you see. vocals low in the mix is a good way to lose me.

my brother and I are going adventuring soon, not sure where because we were thinking about Cincinnati (which is a hard word to spell) but a) I am a little sick of driving in Ohio and b) while I now have some money, it's probs not enough to waste on a place like Cincy. I think. EVEN THOUGH I COULD SEE THE SAN FRANCISCO GIANTS IN TWO WEEKS, OH GOD, maybe I'm reconsidering. I would willingly drive ten hours round trip, through Ohio, to see Tim Lincecum pitch in person. this is a problem. aw, fuck.

my next potential job, should I actually get it, might require me to walk through South Boston way later at night than an unarmed kid should ever walk through South Boston. stay tuned.

my family's out doing shit and my friends all have some kind of commitment tonight, although fuck knows what Eric's doing because apparently he doesn't text back anymore. whatevah. I have many, many things I need to read and write, and a Giants-Cubs game I could watch at 10.

oh yeah, and last weekend Ohio was actually gorgeous.

sometimes I think I could live on a farm. one with a minimum of animals, though.