Monday, June 15, 2009

when the moon fell in love with the sun all was golden in the sky

From my parents cabin, Lake George, NY. 6/12/09.

Rarely would you find me admitting to liking Panic at the Disco.* But the fact of the matter is that when Pretty. Odd. came out last Summer, I regularly found myself sneaking out on evening drives into Newton in the Mini to enjoy this interestingly crafted critically designated knock-off of sgt. peppers lonely hearts club band.

Fast-forward one year. Ten months in an amazing job that I sucked at. 15 pounds heavier. A shade less happy, but more than a shade more optimistic. Down a Mini, up a Mazda. Sunburned lips (really annoying).

And in Ballston Spa.

I was not ghostriding the whip (I was, in fact, humanriding aka driving the whip) in Saratoga Springs today when my favorite track from the aforementioned album came thundering through my mediocre Bose speakers.

And quite suddenly I was certain I was going to puke. I'm really spending 10 weeks away from the greater Boston metro area...and away from any working responsibilities. What the hell was I thinking? I've never felt comfortable and at home in a place away from Boston, and thusly stayed every summer during college (save for stupid 05). Do I simply miss the geographic entity? Do I miss what it represents? Am I attached to Boston or the idea of Boston? What Boston means in terms of the last five years?

I embrace this opportunity. I will meet new people. Strangers. I will not eat Wendy's every day. I will venture off the beaten path. I will not be emo (all the time). I will dance. Everywhere.

Its my chance to figure out what comfort is and where comfort lies. And to find out what hating work and not being able to live without work means.

t-7 days to take off.

*note of importance: i don't and never have liked Panic! at the Disco. Just Panic at the Disco.

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