I am in Gardner, Mass. with my family with an undetermined expiration date hinging on several factors. I will get into that later, but right now I’d like to share a few embarrassing gems for all my hometown readers and anyone who has EVER gone to live with their parents (in my case parent) as an adult. I left at 18, so at 25 I feel like this is my well deserved pat on the back and right of passage into the tortured artist’s holy grail, and oh boy has the torture arrived right. On. Time.
Not chronological, but awesome:
1. I just procured a Zinfandel from an establishment called the Liquor Mart.
2. I went to the grocery with my dad and saw this kid, whose name is Greek, I think. This kid, now overweight and very tall, used to ride his bike straight into mine so that I would fall over. Needless to say, I hadn’t been thinking about that much lately, but memories flooded back in the produce aisle while Papa Joe shucked corn.
3. This one is great. I was at the gym, Muscle Works, perhaps my favorite Gardner hangout and where I plan to start my new boxing hobby, and saw someone I knew. At first, I didn’t know that I knew him. I can’t name him, but this kid was scrawny in high school, but now looks like he’s into the roids and apparently LOVES board shorts. Perfect timing for a run-in since I had a nice sweat stain from my back straight through to my ass crack. Thanks, Muscle Works, for saving energy by saying no to AC. It made this whole encounter possible, and delightful.
Since I’m actually not destitute and pathetic, but I certainly could be construed that way, I’m thinking about owning it. Loving it.
I need to explain, errr, admit all of the lovely recent goings-on, which I will soon. One of the reasons I am home is my mamaquest video interviews with my Mama’s siblings and friends! Starting VERY soon! I’m also trying to find grant money for an extension of my mamaquest dream. I’ll have more info later. In regards to the “other stuff,” I think my next post will start with… As I asked, ‘Please forgive me my trespasses,’ visions of frailty danced in their heads.
Now the Talking Heads, because ‘this is where I want to be.’