Luke Warm came over to record with Craig yesterday, and Spira, feeling the anguish of a fresh break up and needing the calming presence of friends, came by in the afternoon. It was a day spent with some of my favorite people.
While Craig and Luke Warm recorded in his bedroom, I hung out in mine with Spira, doing my best to be a patient listener as she vented her feelings about her defunct relationship with Seany Boy. I won't go into the details of the break up, except to say that in the end it was probably just a matter of when the relationship was going to end. "If", unfortunately, never really factored into the equation. Of course, for all I know they could have reconciled by the time you read this. If so, good having you back, Seany Boy. If not, well it was nice knowing you.
In the afternoon, we got some take out from Yoshis. Spira and I had some black dragon --- not much of a surprise there --- Craig went with some beef teriyaki that he gave a big thumbs up to, and Luke Warm had a dish with such an unnatural, at least to my western eyes, array of vowels and consonants I'm not going to bother trying to spell it. Just know that it had tofu and a bunch of vegetables and looked like a Greek salad if you glanced at it quickly. Binbidibobybiback? Oh, hell, I don't know.
After dinner, I sat with Spira in the living room while the lads finished recording. I put in a dvd of The Office, figuring she needed some cheer to counterbalance the melancholy. She laughed heartily more than once, so I considered the gambit to be a success.
When the guys were done recording, Luke joined me in the living room to watch the second half of the Celtics game. Spira headed home not long after. I felt bad that she was not having a very good day, but she needed to go through it. She'll be alright; she's a resilient little shit.
--
I went to Olympia Sports this afternoon to buy a pedometer. I was hesitant to go there because of the aggressive sales staff, but I was tired and had already gone to a couple of places looking for one. I was hoping for a smooth experience.
The salesman assisting me was initially pretty laid back and helpful, but once I had decided on a pedometer and began paying for it, he started in with the hard sell. Paying for it took on a whole new meaning.
I thought I was in the clear, but the rat-faced bastard just couldn't keep his maw shut.
"Would you like to save 10% on your purchase today?", he asked as he rang me up.
You just had to do it, didn't you, you little fuck? "Nah, I'm all set."
"Are you sure? You'd be saving money. It's really simple to--"
Am I sure? I'm sure until I inform you otherwise! How dare you question me, worm? "Uh, really I'm all set. Just the pedometer."
"Alright, but this is part of our--"
"All set, thanks"
"--rewards program. You'd get a bunch of--"
"No thanks"
"coupons in the deal. Really, you don't want to check it out?"
What I want to do is make you kneel before me in obeisance. What I want to do is command you to shut the fuck up after declaring that I am your master in all things and my every wish is your command. And then, before I leave the store, I want you to round up every god damn coupon in the store and cram them up your pasty ass. "Uh, no thanks -- like I said, just the pedometer."
I left the store determined never to set foot in there again. Listen, I've worked in retail and know this guy, like the others I've dealt with, was just doing what he was taught to do, which is the hard sell. Still doesn't change the fact that I want to tear the throats out of these punks when they get pushy with me. Ah, but you know the feeling, don't you?
--
Almost done Lonesome Dove, though I probably won't finish it tonight; the C's are on and I'd like to work on some music. And with that, I'm out of here, bitches.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Sunday, November 9, 2008
I dreamed of 747's over geometric farms
I just had to make a change in the music I was listening to. I was a couple of songs into AC/DC's Back in Black, but it didn't fit the atmosphere I wanted to convey, so I switched over to Travelogue, Joni Mitchell's orchestral leap into the sublime. It was the right choice. It's late Sunday morning, the one time of the week when one's tastes should be refined. It's a time for quiet reflection, NPR, coffee, jazz, the paper. And Joni Mitchell. I'm sure Craig, who's fast asleep in the next room, appreciates the change in music.
--
I got a call from Spira as I was on my way to the grocery store yesterday morning. She wasn't feeling very well -- a little bit of heartache -- and asked me to come over and help her work through her malaise. So, after getting my groceries, I grabbed a couple of lattes at Starbucks and headed over to her apartment.
It was evident, after talking with her a while, that she would benefit from a run. She was tense and her mind furiously orbited the events that led her to this depressed state. She needed the healthy distraction a run would provide. Earlier in the week, I had mentioned to Spira that I wanted to expand the geography of my runs. One place I had in mind was the Middlesex Fells Reservation over in Medford. "We're going to the Fells for a run", I told her yesterday. "I can't think of a more suitable elixir."
So to the Fells we went. Neither of us had been there before, even though it's close by. I had heard about it from Sara, who had gone there on a first date and gotten lost within it's grip. When we got there we approached a sign that had a map of the area. We picked a trail that looped around a series of small lakes back to our starting location. I silently hoped we wouldn't share Sara's fate.
It was a great experience. We walked, ran, and hiked at various intervals. It was a satisfying, almost transcendent, feeling being out in the woods and away from the city. At one point, deep into our trip, I noticed a profound change in Spira's physiology. She was enjoying herself.
We almost got lost thanks to poorly marked trails, but we made it out okay. As we approached my car in the parking lot, Spira announced, after consulting her pedometer, that we had travelled nearly five miles. It was only last week when we marveled at running three miles. I offered up a high five (My policy regarding high fives, by the way, is to distribute them only after legitimate accomplishments. You will not see me high fiving someone over the fact that Pepsi has a new-look logo or because I had just expelled an impressive bowel movement). It was one of the more rewarding workout experiences I've ever had. I basked in the memory of, and its implications, for the rest of the day.
--
I've decided, because money is tight, but more because I was really getting ahead of myself, to lay off purchasing books for a while. I have a lot I need to finish and many I haven't even started. For the past few weeks, I've put some effort into remedying the problem.
To that end, I finished reading Watchmen the other day. Kind of a disappointment, truth be told, though there was much to like about it. I wasn't thrilled with the illustrating and for such a convoluted plot, it didn't seem to have much substance. I say that with some doubt, however. I'm not sure it's a very fair assessment because, although the story didn't resonate with me as much as I hoped it would have, doesn't mean it lacked substance. Anyway, whatever the cause, I came out the other end of the book feeling a little robbed of what could have been.
I'm almost done reading Lonesome Dove, a book I've been savoring for the last several months. I hope to finish it over the next week. It's such a good read that I know it will be a bittersweet experience when I reach the end. O' Augustus, I know of your fate --some asshole posted it on a web page I visited -- but I somehow believe, by sheer force of will or imagination, I'll be able to save you. So naive.
And there are other books that beg my attention. I hope I have the sack to read a good many of them before I break down and buy another book. We will see.
--
It is approaching one o'clock and I was just informed by Craig, who has just awoken from his slumber, that Luke Warm is scheduled to make an appearance here today. I better go freshen up. Have to look and smell good for the guests. Especially one as dreamy as Luke Warm.
--
I got a call from Spira as I was on my way to the grocery store yesterday morning. She wasn't feeling very well -- a little bit of heartache -- and asked me to come over and help her work through her malaise. So, after getting my groceries, I grabbed a couple of lattes at Starbucks and headed over to her apartment.
It was evident, after talking with her a while, that she would benefit from a run. She was tense and her mind furiously orbited the events that led her to this depressed state. She needed the healthy distraction a run would provide. Earlier in the week, I had mentioned to Spira that I wanted to expand the geography of my runs. One place I had in mind was the Middlesex Fells Reservation over in Medford. "We're going to the Fells for a run", I told her yesterday. "I can't think of a more suitable elixir."
So to the Fells we went. Neither of us had been there before, even though it's close by. I had heard about it from Sara, who had gone there on a first date and gotten lost within it's grip. When we got there we approached a sign that had a map of the area. We picked a trail that looped around a series of small lakes back to our starting location. I silently hoped we wouldn't share Sara's fate.
It was a great experience. We walked, ran, and hiked at various intervals. It was a satisfying, almost transcendent, feeling being out in the woods and away from the city. At one point, deep into our trip, I noticed a profound change in Spira's physiology. She was enjoying herself.
We almost got lost thanks to poorly marked trails, but we made it out okay. As we approached my car in the parking lot, Spira announced, after consulting her pedometer, that we had travelled nearly five miles. It was only last week when we marveled at running three miles. I offered up a high five (My policy regarding high fives, by the way, is to distribute them only after legitimate accomplishments. You will not see me high fiving someone over the fact that Pepsi has a new-look logo or because I had just expelled an impressive bowel movement). It was one of the more rewarding workout experiences I've ever had. I basked in the memory of, and its implications, for the rest of the day.
--
I've decided, because money is tight, but more because I was really getting ahead of myself, to lay off purchasing books for a while. I have a lot I need to finish and many I haven't even started. For the past few weeks, I've put some effort into remedying the problem.
To that end, I finished reading Watchmen the other day. Kind of a disappointment, truth be told, though there was much to like about it. I wasn't thrilled with the illustrating and for such a convoluted plot, it didn't seem to have much substance. I say that with some doubt, however. I'm not sure it's a very fair assessment because, although the story didn't resonate with me as much as I hoped it would have, doesn't mean it lacked substance. Anyway, whatever the cause, I came out the other end of the book feeling a little robbed of what could have been.
I'm almost done reading Lonesome Dove, a book I've been savoring for the last several months. I hope to finish it over the next week. It's such a good read that I know it will be a bittersweet experience when I reach the end. O' Augustus, I know of your fate --some asshole posted it on a web page I visited -- but I somehow believe, by sheer force of will or imagination, I'll be able to save you. So naive.
And there are other books that beg my attention. I hope I have the sack to read a good many of them before I break down and buy another book. We will see.
--
It is approaching one o'clock and I was just informed by Craig, who has just awoken from his slumber, that Luke Warm is scheduled to make an appearance here today. I better go freshen up. Have to look and smell good for the guests. Especially one as dreamy as Luke Warm.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
How can you smile and forecast weather's getting better if you've never let a girl rain all over you
I called Spira on my way home from work to see if she was up for a run. She did not pick up. Maybe she's being a chicken baby, I thought, and is petrified of being out in the rain. Either way, I'll razz her about it the next time we talk. I'd be shirking my duty as a friend if I did otherwise.
I, however, was not a chicken baby; I braved the elements and went for a run. Whenever I passed someone all bundled up under an umbrella, I imagined they either thought I was an idiot or a dedicated athlete when they saw me in shorts, a couple of shirts, and baseball cap. The truth lies somewhere in between, I think, slightly favoring the idiot side of the equation. It was a good run, though; it means a lot that I'm willing to exercise in less than ideal elements.
--
I ran into Ellen in the parking lot as I was coming back from break yesterday. I've had similar encounters with her before and every time we meet she uses the occasion, almost as if we planned it ahead of time, to complain about the job. Yesterday it was "I don't blame Deb for leaving. I wake up every day debating whether I should come in."
I do not share her view of the job. I've worked in some absolutely crummy places, with some terrible, maladjusted people. I've worked in conditions so cold I once resorted to stuffing paper towels in my boots to warm up my feet. More than once I've had my physical well being threatened at a job. Christ, I bet everyone I know shares similar and probably worse experiences. So, yesterday, when Ellen told me she's never been in a work environment as toxic as this one, I thought of perspective and how it shapes us.
You see, my job, compared to some of the beauts I've had, is hardly what I consider to be toxic. When Ellen said that, images of Jeff thanking us for doing our jobs as we leave every day appeared in my mind. Already, they've bought me lunch more times than my last few jobs combined. No, this job is not toxic. If Ellen truly believes that it is, then she must have worked at some pretty comfy places and should consider herself blessed.
--
Well, I'm about done with you. I'm going to watch last night's episode of The Office, the funniest show on TV, past and present. Bold claim, huh? Later on, I'll probably regret making it, even though history may prove that I'm right.
Before I leave you, I'd like to welcome Janelle, one of the loveliest people I've ever known and a fine writer, to this site. I've posted a link to her page in the sidebar--I hope she doesn't mind-- and I encourage you to check out her writing because, as many of you already know, you're in for a treat. I don't know how frequently she'll post, but I'll be checking in daily and will devour whatever she offers.
And one more thing about my dear friend. Though I see her little these days, I think about her often, with fondness and admiration. She is one of the few people I'd go on a long road trip with because I know we'd have some meaty, thoughtful conversations. Her well is deep, my friends. And this speaks to why I love her so much and why I eagerly anticipate reading her work on a (hopefully) consistent basis.
I will now, after discovering that The Office didn't air a new episode this week, set my sights on finishing The Trials of Henry Kissinger.
I, however, was not a chicken baby; I braved the elements and went for a run. Whenever I passed someone all bundled up under an umbrella, I imagined they either thought I was an idiot or a dedicated athlete when they saw me in shorts, a couple of shirts, and baseball cap. The truth lies somewhere in between, I think, slightly favoring the idiot side of the equation. It was a good run, though; it means a lot that I'm willing to exercise in less than ideal elements.
--
I ran into Ellen in the parking lot as I was coming back from break yesterday. I've had similar encounters with her before and every time we meet she uses the occasion, almost as if we planned it ahead of time, to complain about the job. Yesterday it was "I don't blame Deb for leaving. I wake up every day debating whether I should come in."
I do not share her view of the job. I've worked in some absolutely crummy places, with some terrible, maladjusted people. I've worked in conditions so cold I once resorted to stuffing paper towels in my boots to warm up my feet. More than once I've had my physical well being threatened at a job. Christ, I bet everyone I know shares similar and probably worse experiences. So, yesterday, when Ellen told me she's never been in a work environment as toxic as this one, I thought of perspective and how it shapes us.
You see, my job, compared to some of the beauts I've had, is hardly what I consider to be toxic. When Ellen said that, images of Jeff thanking us for doing our jobs as we leave every day appeared in my mind. Already, they've bought me lunch more times than my last few jobs combined. No, this job is not toxic. If Ellen truly believes that it is, then she must have worked at some pretty comfy places and should consider herself blessed.
--
Well, I'm about done with you. I'm going to watch last night's episode of The Office, the funniest show on TV, past and present. Bold claim, huh? Later on, I'll probably regret making it, even though history may prove that I'm right.
Before I leave you, I'd like to welcome Janelle, one of the loveliest people I've ever known and a fine writer, to this site. I've posted a link to her page in the sidebar--I hope she doesn't mind-- and I encourage you to check out her writing because, as many of you already know, you're in for a treat. I don't know how frequently she'll post, but I'll be checking in daily and will devour whatever she offers.
And one more thing about my dear friend. Though I see her little these days, I think about her often, with fondness and admiration. She is one of the few people I'd go on a long road trip with because I know we'd have some meaty, thoughtful conversations. Her well is deep, my friends. And this speaks to why I love her so much and why I eagerly anticipate reading her work on a (hopefully) consistent basis.
I will now, after discovering that The Office didn't air a new episode this week, set my sights on finishing The Trials of Henry Kissinger.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
I had money, and I had none, but I never been so broke that I couldn't leave town
Again, I'm going to beg off offering my pearls of wisdom regarding the election. I just can't; not tonight. I will offer slightly more, however, than I did in yesterday's post, which should be easy because I didn't offer a damn thing. So here goes: Obama is President; I can carry up to an ounce of Marley but I can't buy or sell it (Is that progress or a bizarre-as-fuck lateral move? I do not know); an alarming amount of people -- I'm sure of it -- cast their votes without knowing where their candidate stood on the issues; Obama may prove to be our damnation, for all we know, but at least he's easier on the eyes and ears than the demon leaving office. And that makes all the difference.
--
Saw Changeling with Mara tonight. Initially, when we were deciding on a film to watch, she thought this one was Charlie Kaufman's latest, and sold it to me as such. Being a big Kaufman fan, I enthusiastically voted in favor of seeing it. Well, when I was checking movie times, I read a quick synopsis of the film and discovered that Charlie Kaufman had nothing to do with this film, but Clint Eastwood, who directed and scored it, had plenty. Clint, or Easty as I like to call him, is no slouch, so I wasn't too devastated about the mix up.
It was very well done. Long, though. I was starting to feel a little fidgety after the two hour mark (it ended twenty minutes later), but I think if I watch it in a different setting, I'd react differently. So here's the story, and it was a true one.
Woman (Angelina Jolie) in 1920's California discovers her son is kidnapped. Cops recover boy, only he's not the woman's son. Cops, trying to elevate a shoddy reputation and not wanting their work to look sloppy, insist that the boy is indeed her son. Woman refuses to accept their claim and for her troubles gets tossed into a sanitarium.
You're correct in thinking that doesn't sound very funny. Don't let that prevent you from seeing it, though-- it's meant to be a drama and not a hilarious comedy. Check it out.
--
Saw Changeling with Mara tonight. Initially, when we were deciding on a film to watch, she thought this one was Charlie Kaufman's latest, and sold it to me as such. Being a big Kaufman fan, I enthusiastically voted in favor of seeing it. Well, when I was checking movie times, I read a quick synopsis of the film and discovered that Charlie Kaufman had nothing to do with this film, but Clint Eastwood, who directed and scored it, had plenty. Clint, or Easty as I like to call him, is no slouch, so I wasn't too devastated about the mix up.
It was very well done. Long, though. I was starting to feel a little fidgety after the two hour mark (it ended twenty minutes later), but I think if I watch it in a different setting, I'd react differently. So here's the story, and it was a true one.
Woman (Angelina Jolie) in 1920's California discovers her son is kidnapped. Cops recover boy, only he's not the woman's son. Cops, trying to elevate a shoddy reputation and not wanting their work to look sloppy, insist that the boy is indeed her son. Woman refuses to accept their claim and for her troubles gets tossed into a sanitarium.
You're correct in thinking that doesn't sound very funny. Don't let that prevent you from seeing it, though-- it's meant to be a drama and not a hilarious comedy. Check it out.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Meet the new boss, same as the old boss
Went for a run with Spira earlier this evening. It was a good one. We did close to three miles, which included a couple of steep hills, and probably could have gone more. I was really proud of Spira; she never complained once and she really pushed herself.
Even though winter is fast approaching, I'm planning on stepping up my game and significantly increasing my running distances. By spring, I hope to be ready to enter myself in a few races. Short ones, though. Baby steps, baby!
I've got things to do and I'm going to squash the bug that is this post. I thought to throw in my two cents regarding the election, but all my change is silver, which is to say I'd be writing all night -- can't do this thing small. Now, I know you feel like I've deprived you of something deep, significant, and abiding --- and I have---but, trust me, you don't want to hear it tonight. I'd be what the youngsters call a "buzz-kill" and I'm pretty sure you're still mid-coitus with your candidate du jour. No need for me to get involved.
Well, the C's are on and I've got laundry to do and some ice cream to eat. Cheers.
Even though winter is fast approaching, I'm planning on stepping up my game and significantly increasing my running distances. By spring, I hope to be ready to enter myself in a few races. Short ones, though. Baby steps, baby!
I've got things to do and I'm going to squash the bug that is this post. I thought to throw in my two cents regarding the election, but all my change is silver, which is to say I'd be writing all night -- can't do this thing small. Now, I know you feel like I've deprived you of something deep, significant, and abiding --- and I have---but, trust me, you don't want to hear it tonight. I'd be what the youngsters call a "buzz-kill" and I'm pretty sure you're still mid-coitus with your candidate du jour. No need for me to get involved.
Well, the C's are on and I've got laundry to do and some ice cream to eat. Cheers.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Remember it's true, dignity is valuable, but our lives are valuable too
A short post tonight. I'm about to finish watching Gates of Heaven, which so far is very good, and I want to hear the rest of Ted Gunderson's interview with Noreen Gosch that I started last night before I fell asleep. This means I don't have time to convey to you how boring my day was. Don't panic : I predict there will be plenty more like it.
Ann looked so pretty today that I was in danger of her catching me checking her out. You may think that on some level I wanted to get caught. And you would be correct, only that level is buried beneath the one labeled "chicken shit", which does not want Ann to have even the slightest notion that I'm into her. As evidenced by the fact that I've more than once secretly wished for my coworkers to realize that Ann and I would be a great couple and commence to playing matchmaker, I'm not too prideful to accept a helping hand, however. Who knows, it could happen. People love playing matchmaker.
Ok, I'm out. Told you it was going to be a short one.
Ann looked so pretty today that I was in danger of her catching me checking her out. You may think that on some level I wanted to get caught. And you would be correct, only that level is buried beneath the one labeled "chicken shit", which does not want Ann to have even the slightest notion that I'm into her. As evidenced by the fact that I've more than once secretly wished for my coworkers to realize that Ann and I would be a great couple and commence to playing matchmaker, I'm not too prideful to accept a helping hand, however. Who knows, it could happen. People love playing matchmaker.
Ok, I'm out. Told you it was going to be a short one.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Dreams are nothing more than wishes, and a wish is just a dream you wish to come true
I got to visit with "N" yesterday. She has been going through rehab and is living in a half way house in Worcester. She's there during the week and leaves on the weekends. Yesterday, Spira picked her up and brought her to Somerville. I met up with them in the afternoon at Spira's apartment. It was good seeing N; she looked healthy and was in good spirits.
Spira was going to drive her to her mom's place in Newburyport and N asked if I'd like to come along for the ride. I told her I'd be honored to, and N replied that we could make the drive naked. We all laughed and she told us that she had done that before when she was in her late teens and regaled us with the story. It bears repeating.
She had been in a car drinking with a few male friends behind a stadium one night. One of them suggested they take their clothes off and, thick with drink, they all did, thinking it was a brilliant idea. They were enjoying their nakedness when they saw someone staggering out of the woods towards the car.
When the figure got close, they saw that it was a woman with torn clothes and a bleeding mouth. In a panic, she told them she had just been raped by four guys in a van and barely escaped. As she told them her story, she realized that everyone was naked. She must have wondered, coming upon a stray car filled with three guys and one girl, and all of them nude, whether she had left one rape scene for another.
N ended up being a witness in the subsequent trial. It wasn't to be a smooth affair. One of the guys who was in the car with N had told the police an entirely different break down of events than N witnessed. When she asked him why he lied, he told her that the girl who got raped deserved it because she was a prostitute. He became the star witness for the defense.
To complicate matters even further, this guy's uncle happened to be one of the cops who investigated the rape. And both of them were friendly with the defendants, having grown up in the same town. Consequently, N was subjected to harassment by her so-called friend, his uncle, and numerous other friends of the defendants.
In the end, N stuck to her story and the accused each received a four year sentence. They got off easy. When they got of jail, N had the misfortune of running into a couple of them when she was waiting tables at a restaurant in a nearby town. They bullied and threatened her on more than one occasion.
Thinking back on the experience, N was amazed at how convoluted and bizarre the whole affair was. She concluded the story by telling us that the fact that she was in a car full of naked people was brought up by one the defense attorneys. And because the story had been picked up by the national media, the whole country, she laughed, knew about it.
N has led a very interesting life.
We drove her to mom's, said our goodbyes, and later, back at Spira's place, we talked for a bit before Spira kept nodding off during one of my riveting monologues. As she prepared for bed we made plans to meet up in the morning for a run.
I ended up staying up mega late reading from Top of the World, Peter May's new tome about the Celtic's improbable and triumphant season last year. I had bought the book earlier in the day and by the time I called it a night, I was almost finished reading it. Great book!
Daylight savings was my friend and gave me an extra hour to sleep this morning. After breakfast, I surfed the net for a bit over coffee and then, after finding out from Spira that she was going to get some groceries before our run, I did some laundry and started cleaning my room.
Our run was relaxed. I was energetic and really wanted to push it, but Spira wasn't feeling up to it. I ended up at various intervals running ahead and then back-tracking to Spira. This was a good compromise: I was able to add some vigor to the run while still managing to spend most of it with Spira, at her preferred pace. It's good having a running partner. We plan on doing it again in a couple of days.
I've noticed that whenever Spira introduces me to someone new, they'll always say something like "Oh, you're that Kevin! I've heard a lot about you." And often, when I'm present, she'll speak glowingly about me to whomever we're with. Sometimes it's a little embarrassing, but only because I don't want them to think I'm a cocky son-0f-a-bitch without any modesty, who not only only agrees with these sentiments, but perhaps even put Spira up to expressing them. But that's just me being squirmy. In the end, it illustrates to me what a good friend Spira is. The fact that, in spite of my shortcomings, she speaks of me with pride and affection, means a lot. So much, in fact, I have trouble putting it into words. I love her. Those three will have to suffice.
I had intended to set some goals today. Some short term, some long. I was set to put these goals into writing, but I never got around to it. I will, though, just not sure when. I was productive today, though, so I don't feel as if I was useless layabout.
With that, I'm signing off. I'm going to watch Errol Morris' Gates of Heaven, a documentary about people's attachments to their pets, or The Trials of Henry Kissinger. We'll see which one gets the call.
Spira was going to drive her to her mom's place in Newburyport and N asked if I'd like to come along for the ride. I told her I'd be honored to, and N replied that we could make the drive naked. We all laughed and she told us that she had done that before when she was in her late teens and regaled us with the story. It bears repeating.
She had been in a car drinking with a few male friends behind a stadium one night. One of them suggested they take their clothes off and, thick with drink, they all did, thinking it was a brilliant idea. They were enjoying their nakedness when they saw someone staggering out of the woods towards the car.
When the figure got close, they saw that it was a woman with torn clothes and a bleeding mouth. In a panic, she told them she had just been raped by four guys in a van and barely escaped. As she told them her story, she realized that everyone was naked. She must have wondered, coming upon a stray car filled with three guys and one girl, and all of them nude, whether she had left one rape scene for another.
N ended up being a witness in the subsequent trial. It wasn't to be a smooth affair. One of the guys who was in the car with N had told the police an entirely different break down of events than N witnessed. When she asked him why he lied, he told her that the girl who got raped deserved it because she was a prostitute. He became the star witness for the defense.
To complicate matters even further, this guy's uncle happened to be one of the cops who investigated the rape. And both of them were friendly with the defendants, having grown up in the same town. Consequently, N was subjected to harassment by her so-called friend, his uncle, and numerous other friends of the defendants.
In the end, N stuck to her story and the accused each received a four year sentence. They got off easy. When they got of jail, N had the misfortune of running into a couple of them when she was waiting tables at a restaurant in a nearby town. They bullied and threatened her on more than one occasion.
Thinking back on the experience, N was amazed at how convoluted and bizarre the whole affair was. She concluded the story by telling us that the fact that she was in a car full of naked people was brought up by one the defense attorneys. And because the story had been picked up by the national media, the whole country, she laughed, knew about it.
N has led a very interesting life.
We drove her to mom's, said our goodbyes, and later, back at Spira's place, we talked for a bit before Spira kept nodding off during one of my riveting monologues. As she prepared for bed we made plans to meet up in the morning for a run.
I ended up staying up mega late reading from Top of the World, Peter May's new tome about the Celtic's improbable and triumphant season last year. I had bought the book earlier in the day and by the time I called it a night, I was almost finished reading it. Great book!
Daylight savings was my friend and gave me an extra hour to sleep this morning. After breakfast, I surfed the net for a bit over coffee and then, after finding out from Spira that she was going to get some groceries before our run, I did some laundry and started cleaning my room.
Our run was relaxed. I was energetic and really wanted to push it, but Spira wasn't feeling up to it. I ended up at various intervals running ahead and then back-tracking to Spira. This was a good compromise: I was able to add some vigor to the run while still managing to spend most of it with Spira, at her preferred pace. It's good having a running partner. We plan on doing it again in a couple of days.
I've noticed that whenever Spira introduces me to someone new, they'll always say something like "Oh, you're that Kevin! I've heard a lot about you." And often, when I'm present, she'll speak glowingly about me to whomever we're with. Sometimes it's a little embarrassing, but only because I don't want them to think I'm a cocky son-0f-a-bitch without any modesty, who not only only agrees with these sentiments, but perhaps even put Spira up to expressing them. But that's just me being squirmy. In the end, it illustrates to me what a good friend Spira is. The fact that, in spite of my shortcomings, she speaks of me with pride and affection, means a lot. So much, in fact, I have trouble putting it into words. I love her. Those three will have to suffice.
I had intended to set some goals today. Some short term, some long. I was set to put these goals into writing, but I never got around to it. I will, though, just not sure when. I was productive today, though, so I don't feel as if I was useless layabout.
With that, I'm signing off. I'm going to watch Errol Morris' Gates of Heaven, a documentary about people's attachments to their pets, or The Trials of Henry Kissinger. We'll see which one gets the call.
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