there is nothing here. only there.
New Paltz this weekend was grand.
just grand.
at times, i would forget that i didnt live there. that i had to come home. that i was merely a visitor.
i sat on the stoop with my cousin.. some random stoop. the nameless stoop.
he smoked a cigarette, i sipped my coffee.
we were in everybody's way, but they didnt mind. and we didnt mind.
just a smile, a small scoot to the left or right, a mumble of apology. that was all it took.
then my mum would come out from whichever shop she wanted to explore - shes such a fun companion - and we would amble down the street. or up the street. or across the street.
we really didnt have a specific direction.
we made it to the campus, eventually. walked around for about two hours, people watched, explored nooks. crannies. corridors.
i found my favourite place. its an old brick walkway - from when the school was first built. there are flowering trees all around it, but it doesnt look like many people visit. there is only a single bench.
as i pointed out to mum and greg, a perfect spot to get gang banged.
they made me change my favourite post to one near the one of the ponds.
and the people. they are so calm, so easy going. so much better than what ive known. there is such a new york influence. once, in a coffee shop, i was chit chatting with the man behind the counter. he was (very very kindly) asking me about myself. not creepy things, just 'are you a student, did you come from far away (over the rainbow, was my reply. we had a nice giggle)'
things of that nature
i say, i will be a student. i come from PA. yes, i applied to a lot of schools, mostly in the boston area.
DUH dana. DUH.
new york and boston do not mix. i should have said my dad played for the yankees or something.
but you know, he took in in stride. i saw a small change in his face. but it passed in a moment. he had coffee to make and i had coffee to drink.
the drive home was fun too. mum and i made it so easy and fast.
when we passed a billboard - nay, 5 billboards - advertising an antique store at the side of the interstate called Memories, we decided to stop
there was a room dedicated solely to old clothing. circa 60's, 70's, 80's. even 30's, 40's, 50's.
we tried on clothes for longer than we had intended, and by the time we got back on the road it was something like 345.
we still had 5 or so hours to go
but we didnt mind.
we listened to elliott smith. analyzed his words. learned them, memorized them, laughed over them, crooned over them.
we took pictures, went over for the MILLIONTH time how much we love the campus. how good it feels. how she and bos need to move up here.
we ater chips out of the bag
and french pastries that we picked up in a small town coffee shop, somewhere between here and there.
we finished water bottle after water bottle, never concerned with where we would stop.
had bos been there, the trip would have been complete.
oh oh, i just cant wait. i really cant.
just grand.
at times, i would forget that i didnt live there. that i had to come home. that i was merely a visitor.
i sat on the stoop with my cousin.. some random stoop. the nameless stoop.
he smoked a cigarette, i sipped my coffee.
we were in everybody's way, but they didnt mind. and we didnt mind.
just a smile, a small scoot to the left or right, a mumble of apology. that was all it took.
then my mum would come out from whichever shop she wanted to explore - shes such a fun companion - and we would amble down the street. or up the street. or across the street.
we really didnt have a specific direction.
we made it to the campus, eventually. walked around for about two hours, people watched, explored nooks. crannies. corridors.
i found my favourite place. its an old brick walkway - from when the school was first built. there are flowering trees all around it, but it doesnt look like many people visit. there is only a single bench.
as i pointed out to mum and greg, a perfect spot to get gang banged.
they made me change my favourite post to one near the one of the ponds.
and the people. they are so calm, so easy going. so much better than what ive known. there is such a new york influence. once, in a coffee shop, i was chit chatting with the man behind the counter. he was (very very kindly) asking me about myself. not creepy things, just 'are you a student, did you come from far away (over the rainbow, was my reply. we had a nice giggle)'
things of that nature
i say, i will be a student. i come from PA. yes, i applied to a lot of schools, mostly in the boston area.
DUH dana. DUH.
new york and boston do not mix. i should have said my dad played for the yankees or something.
but you know, he took in in stride. i saw a small change in his face. but it passed in a moment. he had coffee to make and i had coffee to drink.
the drive home was fun too. mum and i made it so easy and fast.
when we passed a billboard - nay, 5 billboards - advertising an antique store at the side of the interstate called Memories, we decided to stop
there was a room dedicated solely to old clothing. circa 60's, 70's, 80's. even 30's, 40's, 50's.
we tried on clothes for longer than we had intended, and by the time we got back on the road it was something like 345.
we still had 5 or so hours to go
but we didnt mind.
we listened to elliott smith. analyzed his words. learned them, memorized them, laughed over them, crooned over them.
we took pictures, went over for the MILLIONTH time how much we love the campus. how good it feels. how she and bos need to move up here.
we ater chips out of the bag
and french pastries that we picked up in a small town coffee shop, somewhere between here and there.
we finished water bottle after water bottle, never concerned with where we would stop.
had bos been there, the trip would have been complete.
oh oh, i just cant wait. i really cant.