(no subject)
A good night. Another summer night that just screamed "This is what summer is about." Heading out to my canton-brothers, I was excited to see him in the first time since Christmas break. Driving there, tunes up, I was happy and the sun was shining and I was ready. I pulled up, after not getting lost, and there he was, newly awake from his short nap in his chair. Talking for a bit, I called my B, because I knew that he should be about done hanging on the roof of someone's house, and so I was wondering where he was. He was, turns out, about twenty five feet from the house, and so with some quick directions he had arrived and we were quickly laughing and it was just like old times. I hadn't laughed like that in months, and it felt good to just laugh and laugh with two of my favorite boys.
We decided that we needed some food..."I don't want to drive."
"I'll drive your car." It was settled. In the front seat, I turned the dial up because what else was playing but "Semi-Charmed Life" by our mutual favorite band, and it was fate and happiness and summer was spelling itself out. Heading to Farmer Jack, which apparently does still exist in parts of Michigan, we grabbed the essentials: tonic water, hot dogs, and buns. Home again, home again, and we're ready for some grilling.
(Reminds me of the other day at B's. We were coming back from the firework show, and we sat in his driveway until the song was over. Classic B and I moment. But it was Third Eye Blind and you can't break that up.)
My canton-brother starts grilling and we all sit down with our drinks in hand and start talking about life. Passing around his pipe, I gag and cough my way through the conversation. During the peach-flavored cigars I could hold more of my own. I guess I was just not trained properly to be a smoker. But it was still fun.
Then we did what we normally tend to do--spent some time sharing music with each other, followed by pictures of certain people that need a face to go with. B's roommate, my canton-brother's new love, or something like it, and a face of someone not so happy for little ole me.
More talking. Then my canton-brother was on the phone and I was suddenly yelling at B for things that aren't his fault but he still needed some straightening out. It was better than when we talked about my lost love for a couple too many minutes and I was not ready for it and my eyes started tearing and I thought I would lose it. I think my canton-brother sensed that though, and we changed the subject. Too long ago to be dwelling on it so much.
More talking. More talking. And then it's time to leave and I am once again graced by an amazing evening with two great young men. Climbing into my car, I have to adjust the seat from my taller canton-brother, and then I am cruising, trying to remember my way back to the highway. I hear a song that my B needs to hear, and so I call him, but he misses it anyways. What a sad day.
Five or eight songs later, I am home again and greeted by someone who I always love to talk to.
And then it was time for bed.
Gnight, ace. (he says. .)
We decided that we needed some food..."I don't want to drive."
"I'll drive your car." It was settled. In the front seat, I turned the dial up because what else was playing but "Semi-Charmed Life" by our mutual favorite band, and it was fate and happiness and summer was spelling itself out. Heading to Farmer Jack, which apparently does still exist in parts of Michigan, we grabbed the essentials: tonic water, hot dogs, and buns. Home again, home again, and we're ready for some grilling.
(Reminds me of the other day at B's. We were coming back from the firework show, and we sat in his driveway until the song was over. Classic B and I moment. But it was Third Eye Blind and you can't break that up.)
My canton-brother starts grilling and we all sit down with our drinks in hand and start talking about life. Passing around his pipe, I gag and cough my way through the conversation. During the peach-flavored cigars I could hold more of my own. I guess I was just not trained properly to be a smoker. But it was still fun.
Then we did what we normally tend to do--spent some time sharing music with each other, followed by pictures of certain people that need a face to go with. B's roommate, my canton-brother's new love, or something like it, and a face of someone not so happy for little ole me.
More talking. Then my canton-brother was on the phone and I was suddenly yelling at B for things that aren't his fault but he still needed some straightening out. It was better than when we talked about my lost love for a couple too many minutes and I was not ready for it and my eyes started tearing and I thought I would lose it. I think my canton-brother sensed that though, and we changed the subject. Too long ago to be dwelling on it so much.
More talking. More talking. And then it's time to leave and I am once again graced by an amazing evening with two great young men. Climbing into my car, I have to adjust the seat from my taller canton-brother, and then I am cruising, trying to remember my way back to the highway. I hear a song that my B needs to hear, and so I call him, but he misses it anyways. What a sad day.
Five or eight songs later, I am home again and greeted by someone who I always love to talk to.
And then it was time for bed.
Gnight, ace. (he says. .)