meanwhile, a whole lotta musings
from the look of things it'll run me at least $130 to change my return ticket if i want to return to Burque a week later. i'm not sure if i'm in for that, as i'd also come up another week short on my paycheck, meaning the whole change-a-roo would run me at least $550. hard to say, "family's more important" when that's 2/3 my rent (for this month & next, anyway) and could fuck my budget so hard i put myself in serious danger should my job waver. it'd be a little easier if my folks were willing to help foot the flight-change bill, but still, the $400 or so from the day job is nothing to scoff at.
and there's too much to do there. obviously, there's my mother. i need to spend time with her, and she's now parked somewhat more out of the way, in Providence Hospital.
in some ways it comes down to a question of economics, as it's around $7 or $8 to ride the bus or commuter rail to Providence, then back, and either one requires another $2 or so to hop the bus to the T to get to South Station. so that's about $20 round-trip every time i want to see her. even borrowing my dad's hybrid civic, which i plan to do for a lot of the trip, anyway, it's around 100 miles round trip, so less expense, but still gas, time. gonna have to ruminate on this some.
but before the question of potential economic derailment, there's the dreams i keep having, in which i'm absolutely convinced i'm back in Massachusetts. unsure of how i got there so immediately, just suddenly needing to see people, visit places, get on my list. last night i dreamt once again of staying in a mod at Hampshire, surrounded by drunk or stoned college students who had no interest in my perspective (all of this historically accurate) and i suddenly needed to visit my very good friend Tom. i called his cell, he picked up in a flurry of static and turned out he was in Antarctica, not back till Monday. which was fine cause I'd be in town. when i woke up i realized not only does Tom not live in Northampton, but that Ashville, where he does live, is very, very far climatically from Antarctica. but i wouldn't put it past him to boogie down there.
this is one of a series of dreams whose defining characteristics are 1. my solid belief that this is the waking world and 2. the sudden realization that i'm there, already and whenever i seek out my people, they are unavailable, either for the night, or my time there. this leads me, somewhat forcedly, to conclude that it's not the people drawing me there, but the land. maybe if i dream of a Massachusetts that does not involve people but rather specific places, i won't be disappointed. incidentally, these dreams take place at Hampshire, whereas in dreams of the house (yes, a specific point on the map) it's there, albeit shifting around like a self-inventing rubik's cube in my memory.
I should also like to announce that I've sold more than 40 copies of Freshwater Dredge, so THANK YOU for making pre-ordering a success! And likewise, thank you to Albuquerque for your strange and wondrous support of this project, last night especially. I sold 11 books last night between two readings. Hot damn. Makes me think I'll need more of them on tour. Hm.
and there's too much to do there. obviously, there's my mother. i need to spend time with her, and she's now parked somewhat more out of the way, in Providence Hospital.
in some ways it comes down to a question of economics, as it's around $7 or $8 to ride the bus or commuter rail to Providence, then back, and either one requires another $2 or so to hop the bus to the T to get to South Station. so that's about $20 round-trip every time i want to see her. even borrowing my dad's hybrid civic, which i plan to do for a lot of the trip, anyway, it's around 100 miles round trip, so less expense, but still gas, time. gonna have to ruminate on this some.
but before the question of potential economic derailment, there's the dreams i keep having, in which i'm absolutely convinced i'm back in Massachusetts. unsure of how i got there so immediately, just suddenly needing to see people, visit places, get on my list. last night i dreamt once again of staying in a mod at Hampshire, surrounded by drunk or stoned college students who had no interest in my perspective (all of this historically accurate) and i suddenly needed to visit my very good friend Tom. i called his cell, he picked up in a flurry of static and turned out he was in Antarctica, not back till Monday. which was fine cause I'd be in town. when i woke up i realized not only does Tom not live in Northampton, but that Ashville, where he does live, is very, very far climatically from Antarctica. but i wouldn't put it past him to boogie down there.
this is one of a series of dreams whose defining characteristics are 1. my solid belief that this is the waking world and 2. the sudden realization that i'm there, already and whenever i seek out my people, they are unavailable, either for the night, or my time there. this leads me, somewhat forcedly, to conclude that it's not the people drawing me there, but the land. maybe if i dream of a Massachusetts that does not involve people but rather specific places, i won't be disappointed. incidentally, these dreams take place at Hampshire, whereas in dreams of the house (yes, a specific point on the map) it's there, albeit shifting around like a self-inventing rubik's cube in my memory.
I should also like to announce that I've sold more than 40 copies of Freshwater Dredge, so THANK YOU for making pre-ordering a success! And likewise, thank you to Albuquerque for your strange and wondrous support of this project, last night especially. I sold 11 books last night between two readings. Hot damn. Makes me think I'll need more of them on tour. Hm.