Cross-Country Cooking

I've arrived in Utah at a most tumultuous time. It is the beginning of the end of a neighborhood. The smoke shop closed with a minimum of fanfare, only the rustlings of, "Fuck, now I have to go to the gas station." Not so much of an inconvenience as a slight subversion of loyalty as if one, now by necessity, was forced to fraternize with the enemy.
At first the boards across the window were hung almost reverently with a few posters advertizing a concert in the desert and an enlarged photograph of the time-torn red rocks to the south with which, to a greater or lesser degree, everyone here seems to feel a sharp sense of kinship. Soon enough though, one can guess, hte unassuming plywood will soon be etched with all manner of statement from the masses of hitherto unenlightened folk with litte resistance as, one by one, the people who believe in this town are forced on their way.

So I've got a few entries saved on my archaic throwback of a laptop but it seems lately I haven't had a lap long enough to put anything on it, let alone a computer. So I've actually managed to settle in pretty well out here. I go from being one of the guys to the hottest thing to hit this state... EVER. Oh yeah. I was told by a 17 year-old that she was going to wife me. I told her my truck was older than she was. (Lucy's 18 by the way and temporarily laid up but she'll be good as new before you know it.) The teenaged fan club is coming along nicely, it seems my predilection for indiscriminate winking has caused quite a stir... at the highschool. It's not their fault though, I'm just a REALLY hot 14 year old boy.
There's some other stuff going on too but I'm not entirely sure I've got hold of it to explain just yet. I'm doing a lot of wandering, both around town and around my head. I'm climbing trees and picking up rocks and frolicing barefoot in the snow. I'm letting the sun shine on my face and watching the moon change shape at night and I am alive and in that I am love. There is great goodness in the world and I am part of that every day. We'll see where that takes me but right now, it's a road I need to follow. Time's short, thoughts are jumbled. More to follow.
Peace and love

My personal lord and savior? Um, no.

The other day I’m feelin awful down so I text Melissa because she’s probably the one person on the face of the planet that genuinely gets where I’m coming from on all this. I guess if I were more into psychology (okay, I majored in it in college and used it, oh, here and there and everyfreakinwhere in my 11 year career in mental heath) I might be inclined to say that I suffer from bipolar disorder. But only half the time. Hell, the manic part is GREAT! I think that’s why I’m in Utah, actually, one manic day I just said, “Hey! I know! (remember, we’re talking manic phase here, there are a lot of exclamation points!) I’ll quit my job and take off with no money and no job prospects in a 92 Chevy I got for FREE and just kinda, I don’t know, drive around and see what’s out there! That’s a great idea!” Hey, y’all are reading my blog so some part of you must see the genius here.

But… I digress. A lot. All the damn time. I’m still doing it. I just can’t stop.

So Melissa actually gets the tremendous highs and lows I go through because she’s had her own share of mood swings. Hell, the girl spent the summer before last in Wyoming, sent me a picture of her ass next to the world’s largest potato replica somewhere in Idaho. She’s also the best singer I’ve ever known and, by some accounts, I’m a lesbian. If anyone knows chick singers…

So the other day I text Melissa and tell her that I’m feeling pretty down. I don’t have a job yet, I’m getting anxious about money, I’m lonely as hell, I haven’t so much as SEEN anyone attractive since leaving New York, and she texts me back what amounts to something along the lines of (and if you can’t tell, I’m paraphrasing slightly)

Yesterday is but a dream
And tomorrow is only a vision
But today, well spent
Makes every yesterday a dream of happiness
And every tomorrow a vision of hope.

Quit bitchin.

Start livin.

Get up, get out and ride.

“Wow, Rosemary,” I text, “why have you forsaken me?”

Is that a joke? I don’t know. It’s pretty much indicative, though, of how I see the world. I’ve simply got no object constancy when it comes to people in my life. If they aren’t present, actively responding to everything I say I feel as though I’ve driven them away. Then I dive them away. I’m not sure which is more secretly appealing, indulging in the idea that no one can love me and I’ll just be abandoned or cashing in on that self-fulfilling prophesy when, exasperated, people ultimately turn away from my selfish, needy and downright transparent attempts to vie for their attention.
Stay tuned folks. PLEASE!!! OR DON'T, I DON'T REALLY CARE WHAT YOU THINK ANYWAY. No, really, I didn't mean it, what did you think of that?

I am in Salt Lake City, Utah.

In Utah, I'm staying with Sydel:

*my friend going on about 9 years,
*my freshman year R.A.,
*my POLAR FREAKIN OPPOSITE.

Sydel and I couldn't be more different:

*She likes shoes.
*And her mother.
*She believes in laser hair removal and permanant cosmetics.
*She owns red things.

I've been given my own room with

*an inflatable mattress,
*real sheets and,
*almost an entire desk.

• I am uncomfortable with this.

• I sleep on the couch.

• I fear commitment.

• I might move back into my car.

That is all I have to report on now.