Blue (revisited)

After last night's ever-entertaining Swedish class in South Portland, Rachael and I went to Blue to check out the Irish session. Blue is a fairly new club, very simple and slightly classy. The walls are orangey red, and the art is highly sexual, but secretly so, and reminiscent of grafitti. Guinness is on tap (only $3!), so I was happy. We caught the tail-end of the 7:30 concert by an excellent Irish fiddler, Oisin McAuley, yakked with Glen Loper for a few minutes and enjoyed the tunes at the seisun. I didn't bring my fiddle; my Irish repetoire is no larger than the buttons on my sweater. I did hear some tunes I knew though, and I think I'll make a habit of going. Eventually, the tunes will get so stuck in my head that I'll have no choice but to scratch them out on the old four-strings myself.

Blue has a lot of folky events. Tonight is Rakish Paddy, another Irish group. I've never heard them, and I'm skipping it in lieu of more important things (writing my blog...). Their website has all their shows, www.portcityblue.com. I like the ritual of going out in the weekday evenings. I used to go out dancing (Scandi, Morris, Rapper, Tango, etc.) at least 5 nights a week, but since I've returned to Maine, no such activity. I have decided to crack down on myself and do most of my schoolwork during the day, from 9-5 or 10-6 or whatever, and then excommunicate it from my consciousness. After I've done my time (and changed out of my hunting-orange jumpsuit), I can head to town and chill like a villain at Coffee by Design, or check out music or a movie. This will be healthier for me, because otherwise I put the work off and think about it obsessively, disengaging from the part of life that happens on the outside of my head. That's not very SK, according to the Gospel According to SK. And so, a change attempts to manifest itself, and since beer is involved, it has potential to hold.

Are you free Friday night?

I have noticed that time and space occupy the same dimensional area in my mind. When I think of time passing, events, clocks, dates, futures and pasts, it is chronological, but not on a line, just in a miscellaneous and insensible jumble in my brain. I know exactly where/when each item is in relation to the others though, and it is the same with spatial things. Always have distances and relative locations been clear to me without question, and now I am realizing that it is the same with time. How to describe the situation? I can't yet, but they're the same thing, so I must personally argue against the scientific and analytic separation of the two. More on that later.

But with that in mind, I have to say, the weekend is the place to be. Last weekend was an amazing menagerie of land, water, and friends. I traveled to Boston on Friday evening, which I used to do quite frequently, but now I feel the need to either stay really local, or travel really far, not in between. I stayed at my friend Andy's house and we drank sparkling watermelon cider that I had brought him from Sweden in May (he saved it to drink with me!) and yakked about various important life matters like New Math and delicious food. I woke up earlier than worms on Saturday morning to meet my friend Dawn at the airport. Dawn was my cherished roommate when I lived in Portland west and haven't seen her since I was there. We had a heartfelt reunion and fell in love all over again, and went to the only place that was open in the whole city of Boston, the South Street Diner. The food was dinery and the sugar packets were made of art deco. Then we went to IKEA!!!! It was closed though, because it was so early, but we just took a little nap in the car, since neither one of us had gotten much sleep. When it opened, we were in and out quick like bad little bunnies (which was what we used to call ourselves when we stole yummy basil and tomatoes from our landlord's garden, since it didn't seem like she was ever going to harvest them - they kept rotting on the bush! Wasteful.). I needed some cheap apartmenty stuff, so I was happy. Then we met my pals Amy and Scott (from Pinewoods) and went to the North End, as the most important part of any outing is marvelous, beautiful, coloquial victuals. Mmmm, that meal, we ate at a place...I forgot the name, but I know where it is. I had squid fettucini, and tiramisu for dessert. Tiramisu, Tiramisu, what can I say of Tiramisu? It is the most perfect texture of all foods, I must opine, and it's suitable caffeinated (not too much) and just the right sweet. I will make it soon. In the evening, we went to the BodyWorlds exhibit at the Science Museum, which was oddly unemotional. Sometimes presented as an art exhibit, it is based on a process called plastination, in which dead folks' bodily fluids are replaced with a polymer that preserves the whole bodies without the shrinkage or liquidishness of other methods. The bodies were all in specific positions, to show what happens in the body when it moves in a certain way. There was a yoga lady, some skaters, and even a gigantic Bactrian camel, which was my favorite part. It was odd though, to be sure, and I was baffled by whatever sort of emotional reaction I was having, or lack thereof. It was kind of sterile. I think that was the point. Sciencey.

The next day, we woke up early to catch an 8:30 Duck Tour out of the Science Museum. The guy driving, Colonel Ducttape, was rather masochistic, but he told us interesting things. The vehicles are old amphibious DUKW things used in World War Two to go up the beaches of Normandy from the water. Twas grand. Then Dawn and I met my friend Brendan in Quincey and we drove to Hingham Bay where his sailboat lives and spent the rest of the day sailing! That's twice in one year, for me, and I liked this smaller scale boat (25 feet instead of 90) more than the Schooner. Brendan taught us a little about sailing and had us jibe and steer and whatnot, and then we helped him take down the sails for the winter. Then we came back to Maine, Brendan too, and hid photos of ducks all over Dean's (my landlord/our good friend) apartment (downstairs from mine), as part of a running joke between them. (!)

I showed Dawn a bit of Maine the next day, though not as much as I would have liked to. I took her to visit Gramma and Pop because she said she wanted to meet someone in my family. I took her to the dolphin Marina for lobster (she lives in Arizona currently, so all this water was good for her soul), and then for a quick walk at Mast's Landing. Then to the bus sation, and she was gone!

The weekend before that was Dean's amazingly fun wedding at the Stone Mountain Arts Center in Brownfield, ME. I've never been to such a fantastic wedding, and I was so happy to finally meet Dean's real children (well, exstep children, but close enough). His daughter Sandy is married, but his son Dave was like a long lost brother! He plays an amazing bass, so we jammed a bit, and yum yum it was delcious.

The weekend before that was the Common Ground Fair, which was wet and cold, but still more fun than jumping off a cliff.

But I am going on, so I shall stop. It is the weekend again, and I don't have plans, but I have grown used to the overstimulation of DOING things as a way to rest (new to me.) so I must find something to keep myself occupied, because the less I think about schoolwork on the weekends, the harder I work during the week. Invigorating!