2002-05-28 - 2:33 p.m.

This is going to be a long damn entry, so if you're in a hurry, I'll understand if you skip it. But it needs to come.

Michael and Kati went to Boston to visit Elizabeth (einboston.pitas.com). Wow.

The trip there was fairly uneventful. We had a three-hour layover in St. Louis. I'm scared of flying, but was basically okay this time. Michael had never flown before, but typical to Michael, acted like he didn't even notice he was in a plane. It was really fun descending into Boston. Over the clouds, it was still daytime, but we stooped through them into the Boston night.

E met us at the baggage claim. We ran to catch the airport bus to the subway, ran to catch our train. Elizabeth quietly said Oh as we boarded. We road in the first car of the Wonderland train, which was really interesting for me because I had never been in a subway train that actually smelled like urine. Wonderland is where the insane asylum is. Elizabeth explained that the first car was where the crazies rode, but I don't think she used the word "crazies."

We got to her place, which is excellent, and ate hummus and red peppers on pita bread. E and I talked about the Scribbling Mob, and then we all went to bed, Michael and I on the futon. This was when I learned that all my preconceived notions of how uncomfortable futons are were completely unfounded. We slept well. No sore backs in the morning. It was great.

We woke early Wednesday with Elizabeth and her roommate Aral. E was going to work. Aral was working on her thesis. She was so tired, having not slept two full nights in three weeks. Right before I got up I laughed to myself under the sheets, as Elizabeth tiptoed around on the regardlessly loud squeaky floor, and hushed the soft meows of Mr. Puck so as not to wake us up. I thought it was great how quiet they were being so that the couple they were boarding for free could sleep a bit longer.

We breakfasted on leftover dinner- yummy still. Mr. Puck attacked our pile of stuff on the floor when I jingled my keys while looking for underwear. We got our stuff together and headed off to the Aquarium. I'm going to skip the next hour of our lives because I like to give the impression to people that my sense of direction always works, even in new cities.

The fishes were cool. And I might note here that until I saw the movie Dreams With Fishes, I cringed at the word "fishes". Fish is plural for fish, I would say. However, I loved the movie, and it has helped ease my fishes-related pretention. So, yes, the fishes were cool. All sorts an sizes. There were fish that gave a spectral light show. There were fish that would have bitten my head of given the chance. There were sea turtles- one twice the size of Michael and I combined, and probably four times older than our ages combined. I was afraid that I would get bored there and feel my money had been wasted. No such thing. There is something eerie and soothing and hypnotizing about watching hundreds of fish swim past you in a large tank. A spiral ramp circled the tand four stories up to the top, where you could climb in and pet the sharks. Okay, I made the last part up but I was tempted to climb into the tank. There were side exhibits of weird crazy fish on each floor. Really interesting and sometimes imaginary fish- stuff god created when she was a little girl. There was a huge octopus glued to the glass of one of the tanks. Awe-inspiring. And gross. Also, it was Bring Your Elementary School Class to the Aquarium Day. The kids were swarming. And they knew more than me about the fish and hell even the plankton. I've decided I want an otter.

We headed out and found this nice little diner called Mona Lisa's that we had passed on the way. Michael and I split a sandwich- made by REAL Italians (have I mentioned I live in Murfreesboro, TN?) We headed off. On the subway, this 17-year-old girl hit on Michael, oblivious to his wife a few feet away. I thought it was kind of funny, so I didn't say anything. She was with all her friends, so when she offered Michael her number he took it. We exited the train together and went looking for the Isabella Stewart Gardner museum.

We stopped on a sidewalk to consult our map, and this guy who had passed us and was twenty feet ahead of us, stopped and turned around and offered to help. So what is all this talk to Southern Hospitality? We were in friggin' New England. Anyway, he helped us along and was very nice about it all. We found our museum.

So, this crazy woman in the twenties went to Italy and fell in love with it, so she ripped off a bunch (and I do mean a bunch) of Italian art and brought it to her mansion in Boston that she was having renovated to look like Italy. True story. Right in the center of her museum/house was an indoor courtyard- a huge beautiful garden surrounded by walls that looked like Europe. I guess you have to have been there to recognize it- kind of a pink-washed look. Beautiful. Three stories up the garden is covered with a huge skylight, that made you feel like you were outside in Italy, except for the sprinkling ran didn't come in, and there were signs in English reminding you not to take pictures or actually walk in the garden. I enjoyed it immensely. Everything was calming and lovely. I wanted more.

There ws this huge painting of Heaven on one of the ceilings. I laid down on the floor to look at it properly, and I think everyone will be happy to know that in fact angels do have dogs in heaven. There were paintings of Jesus with siblings, Jesus with pregnant Virgin Mary, Jesus on the Cross, Jesus eating dinner, Jesus teaching, Jesus standing, Jesus looking at nothing... Michael noted how religious painters had an unhealthy obsession with Jesus. The guy standing next to us laughed.

We sat down in the cafe with really excellent coffee. I had been thinking all day about charisma and my own power. You remember how I wanted an epiphany? It was late, but I came to realize that in fact I do have this power when I try. Not that I didn't already know, I guess, it's just been so long since I put it away. A bit older, a bit wiser (I hope), I think it's been trying to nudge its way back into my life. Michael and I talked about the power that all peole have over themselves, over others. Everyone is part God, we all have influence. i went to the bathroom (coffee, you know). While peeing, i thought about how old ladies used to always find me and talk to me in the bathroom. I walked out, thinking, notice me, talk to me. An old lady found me at the sink and started talking to me. I walked through the giftshop back toward the cafe. A woman in the giftshop started talking to me. Michael and I talked about objective versus subjective reality. We talked about magick, politics, religion, the dark ages. I wondered if all of this related back to my own recent fear of myself- am I too powerful when I try to control the results of my life? Is that why I used to fuck everything up when I tried to exert my influence, just because I didn't realize what I was actually doing?

Anyway, we went to get groceries, stopped in a liquor store that sold deli products, got some cheeses and turkey and bread. We went out to eat with Elizabeth at Brown Sugar. Michael and I split a plate of the best duck either of us had ever had. We walked to the wiccan store, which was closed, and then to a used book store where I found a video copy of Picture Pages! With, with an actual workbook with it!!! Three bucks! What a find! Elizabeth was jealous. We went home and watched it and realized that Bill Cosby was not in fact funny, he was just drunk. Very drunk. Very obviously drunk.

That night I dreamed I was a prostitute and some guy hired me to take care of his daughter because he liked me and didn't want me to be a prostitute anymore, except for him.

Thursday morning I woke to the smell of blueberry bagels. I ate strawberry poptarts, which I liked, which kind of surprised me. Michael and I made some sandwiches and we took off to go see Salem. By the way, I'm listening to Reveal, and I love MIchael Stipe. We took a train to Salem, which is a really, really cool city. It's cheesy for the tourists, but you can actually feel the magick in the air. Not to mention how incredibly laid back everything is. We stopped in at a pub for coffee. There were some men at the bar, whom we judged immediately with our Murfreesboro biases. A couple looked to be the Northern equivalent of rednecks, and a couple looked to be tight-ass republican assholes. On the TV, Kids in the Hall were singing the Run Faggot Run song. No one- cared. No one gave me and Michael strange looks- at all.

We toured the Witch Dungeon museum. It had a short play and then we got to see some wax sculptures, which was one of my main goals in Salem. I was not disappointed. Then Michael accused me of witchcraft- we have documentation saying so. We went to a haunted house- they had heads lining the walls of the lobby- famous heads from scary movies- heads they had made for scary movies. i was impressed. The haunted house was good too. The guy that lead us around, and would disappear and then jump out growling, let me tell you, he had that growl down. Sounded like a bobcat. We went to a bunch of stores. I found some rue, which I had been looking for in herbal stores for awhile. More on that later.

When we got back, E took us to Steve's for dinner. Steve's is a seafood restaurant, so surely they would have that New England Clam Chowder that I had recently become a fan of. Steve's did not have New England Clam Chowder. Not to worry, still plenty of time. We walked around Newbury street, which is really cool. It has all these rich people stores, and cool stuff and people are everywhere. There are yuppies and hippies and bums and bohemians and poor college students.. The place is thriving with life of all kinds. Everyone seems to go there to feel at home. Which meant it was a damn shame that everything right there seemed to be so expensive. We went to Copley Square with the Boston Public Library. Fucking huge. It was as big as M'boro. It was as big as outside. It was closed.

Everyone in that apartment slept like a rock that night. Aral had finished her thesis. She apologized for what a bad time we met her at, but I have to say, she was really cool for going through such a bad time. E made cinnamon roles with orange icing. Aral did not stop smiling. E and Michael and I went to the Harvard musuems after breakfast. I got to see the conjoined twin skeletons. They were nifty. We met Josh, who is really nice and took us to Trepan.com, which talks about how people drill holes in their heads, themselves, on purpose. In the museum, we saw urethra probes and early surgical instruments. We saw an exhibit of phrenology charts. Michael has no sense of time or direction. You can tell that by the shape of his forehead.

We headed out to eat, wound up at Au Bu Pan? something to that effect... It was really good for chain sub shop food. We went to the Cambridge public library, which is inside this debunked cathedral and it had religious writings all over the walls, per the agreement signed when the city bought the property. Inside, three floors of books were constructed on steel grates, which means that on the third floor, you can look down and see the first floor. I regressed into my fear of heights and went back outside.

Outside in Boston in May is really nice, except on days when it's bitterly cold. But when it's not bitterly cold, it's brisk, it's nice, it's lovely. we went to a large children's store, but I didn't get very far into it because I started looking at children's books in the doorway. We went next door and got tea. We had tea in Boston. It was yummy. It was four o'clock. It was tea time. I had vanilla Earl Grey. We went to a comic book store and looked through zines. I got a couple that I like. One in particular is really nifty. Aral cooked a really great dinner, and get this, thanked US repeatedly, for giving her an excuse to cook. ! I love nice people. They're so weird! I sat out on the fire escape and wrote and thought. I really like Boston. It's very comfortable feeling. I think I realize that I really am a city girl. Strangely, I'm also a country girl, which I guess is good, because Michael is not so much a city boy. He liked Boston, but mainly noticed class differences, which made him angry. At least now we can both say we went to Harvard. Saturday kind of disappeared into a pile of lost time. It was rainy out, cold. Elizabeth made brownies, which were delicious. We went to see Spiderman, all four of us. It was fun. Kind of cheesy. The action sequences were good. We hung out that night doing nothing in particular. It was nice. On Sunday, we got some stuff together and went to celebrate the day of Elizabeth's Graduation from Simmons by not going to graduation, but having a picnic in Boston Common. Lovely. E and I started writing a story, but it didn't go very far. I was still feeling spacey and lost, but good. It was relaxing and beautiful there. I got some good pictures. We went to Cheers, yes, THE Cheers, to go to the bathroom. Small bathroom, but it worked. All in all, my impression of the Cheers' bathroom was good. We left. We walked around some, got some materials at an art store to make books. We went back to E's and she taught us the art of book binding. Aral had a friend over, who's name I cannot remember because I'm a horrible person. She was really nice, though. I got a very good feeling from her. We hung out and watched a movie, again relaxing and enjoying the time. It was a good day. Monday came. Our last day in Boston. I still had not had clam chowder. We had to go the the Museum of Fine Arts, and find some clam chowder. The latter took far too long. I have learned the fallacy of New England Clam Chowder. There is very little Clam Chowder in New England. You are far more likely to find it in Red Lobster in Murfreesboro than you are anywhere in New England. An Hour and A Half of looking finally brought us to some goddam clam chowder. I was ready to give up in half that time, but Michael persisted- We're going to find you some goddam clam chowder!! We did. We split a Long Island Iced Tea (there probably aren't any of those in Long Island)- downed it before our meal came and damn were we toasty. Michael took a picture of me eating my goddam New England Clam Chowder. It was a very drunken picture. It was very good clam chowder. So we went to the Museum of Fine Arts which had absolutely wonderful stuff. Three hours at a pretty fast pace, and we still didn't see everything there was to see. But I was awestruck. That place is now in my top ten places that I like to be at. Beautiful. We ordered pizza that night- damn good pizza. We finished binding our books, and hung out talking about many things. We went to bed early and slept well, until the alarm went off at four and we had to rush out to make it to the airport. Elizabeth bought us donuts while we waited in line to get out tickets processed and our bags checked. The line took forever. We had a short moment of goodbyes before going through security. Um, you remember that Rue I bought in Salem? Well, apparently in the x-ray thing (and remember that now that we've lost many of our civil rights, some airports x-ray your body too, so that they can see you naked and stuff in your pockets, etc?) Rue looks an awful lot like pot, or maybe a bomb, I don't know. But I got stopped and checked. The took my Rue away. Then they brought it back. Let me go on my merry way. At security checkpoint number two at the flight gate, I was randomly selected to be searched again. No problems with the Rue this time. Michael noticed that they were only randomly selecting women. I saw in the woman's eyes who randomly selected me that she just didn't want to be hassled. She was selecting people who would not argue or complain- women. youn women. Not the guy that looks pissed off at the world. Why don't they actually just get a computer to randomly select people- so that they can then call it random and not be lying? Anyway, that's our trip. Hope you enjoyed it.

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