Broken Thought Process Thursday, Er, Friday. Yeah that’s it…

Here we go again, running late to the party. Sorry to make everyone wait out in line for the past day, shivering cold and damp in this freaking rain that never seems to end in Boston. Correct me if I am wrong but it is June right? Oh and it is just nine days until summer right? Yeah, that’s what I thought.

Nine days until I quit smoking for good. Ya-flipping-hoo!

A few nights ago my mom and I went to the Arlington Cultural Council Artist’s Summit here in town and holy wow Batman, what a completely productive and fantastic time! I met up with some totally groovy people and we exchanged digits (actually more like characters since no one calls anyone anymore right?) so we can try to get together and possibly help each other out with our artwork , form some collaborations, and just generally connect with other like minded cats. How great is that?

Who knows where this will lead but it has certainly sparked a renewed interest in the collaboration my mom and I are already working on and I have started hatching some good stuff for it. Plus I found out there is a social networking site just for Arlington residents called famboogle. This town has always felt so very small to me (and with every connection I make on Facebook, see who has married each other, who is hanging out now, it is further confirmed). It never occurred to me that our town might need something like this, but it is pretty new and already has over 1000 members so I guess we do.

Tomorrow we are attending a birthday party for a friend who is turning forty. We only get together at best once a year but always have such a great time when we do so I’m definitely looking forward to it.

Unfortunately we will not be partying the night away there because I had picked up tickets to go catch They Might Be Giants. I have no idea who this band is, unless Matt sneaked something on and I did not know it then I have never heard their tunes but he loves them so it should be enjoyable. Especially because it is in a small-ish venue and I somehow managed to score like fourteenth row center. I guess it was either luck or that place is going to be totally empty.

Then Sunday we help my dad and Wicked Stepmother move again. The little place they got into had just a few issues -- for example the house is still on fuses & not a circuit breaker, there are single pane windows everywhere and it is heated with oil. Outside of New England that might not sound like much but their heating bill in the winter would likely have hovered around the $800 range. Ouch. So now they are heading to a much nicer single family a little further west and at least this place is fairly modern. Put it this way, they shouldn’t have to ask each other if they are using an electronic device before turning on the toaster oven.

What I really can not believe, and get even more excited about with the passing of each moment, is that we are moving so soon too. Just sixteen days until we can officially move in. Bring it on!

Lately I have been having some seriously wacky dreams. I really can’t share the extent of them because it would take days but suffice to say I wake up every morning asking myself ‘what just happened there’? A good example would be last night’s.

I am in an outdoor market type place; it reminds me of somewhere in Europe (which is not surprising as I was just talking to someone about the architecture in Amsterdam the other night). There are columns in stone that lead up to huge open archway doors which begin long corridors that border an open courtyard. So there are shops and restaurants on one side and an open wall on the other. There are lots of people everywhere. I am with someone but never see their face. Some apparently well known artist is singing for the crowd in the middle of this courtyard area and he sits down to get eye to eye with a belly dancer in an all white costume who has moved up to the front of the little platform type stage. I see my sister across the crowd but then she disappears and the singer tries to catch my eye but I will not look their way, as if I am shy or something. Suddenly the singer disappears but I have this feeling I am supposed to go after him so I do and end up hustling through one of the arches, down a couple stairs and start quickly making my way down a corridor full of people where I see a restaurant and ask my companion why we did not eat there. I have asked everyone if they have seen the singer and all along the way they are pointing in the same direction toward a door out. (I am using their name when I ask people if they have seen him but I can not remember what I was saying so let’s just call him Fred) I head out the door and spy Fred coming back towards the building across a long parking lot, walking a bicycle. He is out of stage clothes now and wearing a navy blue hoodie and jeans. Fred and I fall in step and the person I was with is now gone. We head into this open wall room that no one else can find and he pulls out a bag of weed and proceeds to ask if I would like to smoke a joint. I say sure and we continue to talk for a few minutes but then I wake up.

I guess that one is less freaky than the one where Bruce Springstein was my opening act but I am still thinking maybe I should stop drinking that glass of wine with dinner.

If April showers bring May flowers then what does June downpour bring?