I woke up this morning and fondled Heather.
Before we left, Heather promised she wouldn’t be bitchy about driving. This lasted about an hour. Then she started riding me about how I itch my crotch too much.
“I’m not itching I’m adjusting,” I said.
“You’re itching. I think we might have a yeast infection. Put on this vagina cream.”
“I won’t. You’re being paranoid.”
“Don’t call me paranoid.”
We drove down TN. We ate a Mexican restaurant until we felt like dump trucks.
We didn’t get to Oxford until 10pm. It was packed with college kids. They were all so attractive and fancy. We found a table on the balcony of a bar and discussed our first impressions of the town.
“Okay so name two positives, and two negatives,” I said.
“One positive,” Heather said. “There’s a lot shit going on.”
“That’s true. This tiny town is packed with bars.”
“It’s beautiful. The buildings I mean.”
“Beautiful. But fancy. Holy shit this place is fancy.”
“It’s kinda scary.”
“And too many college kids.”
“There has to be a dive somewhere,” I said. “I mean where the fuck to the locals drink. People keep looking at me like I’m homeless.”
A bouncer overhead us talking and suggested we go a bar at the end of main street. It was in no way a dive. But it wasn’t too packed and the people were our age and looked normal enough. We had a couple of beers. The bar tender gave us a couple of free shots to welcome us to Oxford. We had a good chat with him. And I started to feel more comfortable.
The bar closed and we went back to the motel our room is really run down. It might be the only run down thing in Oxford. Its so rundown, I feel a little uncomfortable.
I’m looking forward to waking up and exploring some more.
Today I drove on 58 across the bottom of Virginia to Tennessee, thinking it was going to be a nice scenic drive, and maybe it was, but the fucking fog was so thick I couldn’t see more than five feet in front of me. I had to climb up and down that hilly landscape going ten miles per hour.
When we finally got out of the fog we decided to call it a night. Heather used the GPS to find a motel. We found that was only 2 miles away. But the directions the GPS gave us took us deep into more foggy big ass hills. We were driving for an hour before the GPS told us we had reached out destination. But there was no motel. Just a pharmacy and an Applebee’s.
We ate at the Applebee’s and then we were able to find a motel for only fifty bucks a night and it was only ten miles down the road from us. It’s nice and cozy here but Heathers mad at me because I decided to watch Star Trek instead of having sex. I suggested we have sex while watching Star Trek about that only made her more upset.
Tomorrow we arrive in Oxford. We’ll find a motel with cheap weekly rate. Then, if we like the place, we’ll get an apartment. If we don’t like it, well, shit, I ain’t going to move back home.
We’re in Virginia and its snowing. We found a motel that’s only forty bucks a night. It’s cozy. And when I say cozy I mean it in a huddle-around-a-camp-fire-telling-stories kind of way. Only instead of a campfire we got a space heater and instead of a telling stories we’re watching the travel channel with hot ladies in the rain forest walking around with their titties hanging out. They hunt spider monkeys.
I just took my boots off.
Heather: “Jesus! Did your feet just fart?”
Woke up still drunk. Had to move car. I was driving all over the place. Almost crashed into a parked car. Felt manly about it.
The night before we met with a couple old friends I have know since I was a young. We went to some bar and we all had whiskey. I feel self-conscious around them. Even when I am drunk. They are both so hip. I’m just a fat guy in baggy slacks and a shirt covered in stains. They think I am a buffoon. And usually I like being a buffoon. But not when I am around them.
Regardless, there’s a lot of old affection there at times. And I liked seeing them in the long run.
Heather woke up at noon and walked out into my buddy’s living with nothing but her slip on and her boob was hanging and I really loved how good and warm and sloppy she looked.
We decided to stay an extra night so I could see a few more friends.
1-19-2010 Shelter Island, NY
This is how I left home.
My dad sat on the couch wearing his night shirt. Patty, his wife, sat on the recliner, dopey from pain pills, watching the home shopping network.
“Look at those earrings,” she said. “Aren’t they just exquisite?”
“I think my dad’s nightgown is exquisite. If I was to use the word exquisite for anything it would be for my father’s nightgown.”
“It’s a night shirt,” he said.
My father had a shitty smirk on his face. He was waving the phone at me.
“Have you called your aunt?” he said.
I stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights of a monster truck or a tank.
“Call your aunt,” he went on. “She just wants to talk to you before you head off to Mississippi.”
That’s where we are moving. Oxford, Mississippi. Initially Heather wanted to move to Portland Maine. After a brief visit, we decided it was a snowy hell and that we wanted to move south where it’s warmer. And I know, it’s a real random place to move, but when things are random they feel adventurous, and we like that.
My aunt gets nervous when I move. I moved to Brooklyn, New York when I was twenty. She called me ten times a day. It was horrible. It was the bad kind of love.
I didn’t want to talk to this old woman. I wanted this morning to be nice and sweet. Talking to my aunt made me feel anxious.
“Call your aunt,” my father kept saying.
Then Patty chimed in.
“She would just love it if you called.”
I had a hissy-fit and told them all to fuck off. I was really intense. There was lots of yelling.
My father stomped off to his office.
He sat at his desk and sobbed.
“Why are you always so angry?” he kept saying. “I try so hard to be a good dad. To make this a good home for you. But you are always so angry at me.”
I tried to explain myself but it only made him more hysterical. Eventually I gave up. I sat and watched him cry and waited.
Finally he stopped blaming me for how shitty he felt and he started complaining about the usual things. His job. His sickly wife. He told me he wanted to disappear.
The crying went on for a while. Once he stopped I started to get emotional.
My father and I spent the rest of the day being a bit more loveable. I told him about my worries. How I didn’t have a job lined up, how moving to Mississippi seemed maybe a little too random. He told me he was excited for me. That I will be okay.
Now Heather and I are driving west. We aren’t going far tonight though. We want to stop in Brooklyn to see some friends.
My wife and I are in the middle of moving to Vermont. And we are low on funds. So I decided to sell some of my books. I never keep books anyway. Usually, once I am done reading them, I sell them to used bookstores. I decided to grab some of interesting small press books and see if anyone on the interweb interested in them. If you see one you like, email me at firstname.lastname@example.org or private message me on facebook. We can negotiate a price. I’m willing to sell these books for cheap. Especially if you buy more than one.
Arson People, Katie Shinkle
Atrocity Vendor, by Nick Cato
Biomelt, by Carlton Mellick
Black Gvm, by J David Osborn
Cannibal Island, by Michael Faun
Cult of Loretta, by Kevin Maloney
Deep Invaders, by Michael Faun
Haex, by Michael Faun
House Of Houses, by Kevin Donihe
Hungry Bug, By Carlton Mellick
Kafka Effeckt, by D Harlan Wilson
Kings Of Men, by Matt Bialer
Mega Gray, by Seb Doubinsky
Mother Of A Machine Gun, by Michael J Seidlinger
Murderland, by Garrett Cook
Sick Pack, by MP Johnson
Spiritual Instrument, by M Kitchell
The Train Derails in Boston, by Jessica McHugh
Season 9 is bad. Its so bad it will really mess with you head. Here is what I think happened. Roseanne wanted to make it more like Absolutely Fabulous, a British show about two sloppy trend obsessed socialites. There are interviews with her saying she wanted to make an American version of Ab Fab, but the studios just were not interested. So I think she tried to turn Roseanne into Ab Fab, with Jacky and her being like the Edina and Patsy. She had the Conners win the lottery and become rich, all in an attempt to make the show more like Absolutely Fabulous. And, holy shit, it does not work at all. The change is jarring, and sloppy and feels unnatural. Jacky dates a prince. Dan’s mother tries to kill him a bunch of times and they treat it like a joke. Roseanne wears some awesome outfits though. They are weird and over the top sexy. Season nine also has a guest appearance from the cast of Ab Fab. And it is the only good episode out of the last three seasons. Many people consider this episode to be the last Halloween episode. I like that idea.
My aunt Jacky would ask me if I wanted a snack. Maybe some Lucky Charms. I’d always loved Lucky Charms. The marshmallows were so colorful, and stiff. It was as if they were born stale.
“Damn it!” I’d tell her. “I don’t want Lucky Charms. I’m a full grown man. And besides, I’m way too curvy for that sort of thing.”
“I mean fat.”
“You are such a goony woony,” she would say.
And she would wink at me. A hard wink. Rock hard. Like the jaws of life.
It reminded me of the old men at church when I was little. I was the ministers kid and they would put me to the test. They would shake my hand so hard that I would become alert and stare them in the eye. And I would be furious. “Have a nice day,” I’d tell them. And they would smile at me.
Lots of stuff happened in that Church. Our youth group would have sleep over there. We called them Lock Ins. And we would play Truth Or Dare and Spin The Bottle for so long that we would all get chapped lips and have to pass around chap stick.
Besides that kinda stuff, I never liked church much. Too many old people. Too dusty. Not enough colors. Still, my parents were ministers. So I had to go. And, eventually, I got attached. When my wife and I moved out west we tried to find a church. But they didn’t feel right. They felt like a suit that was a little too small and you can’t tell if the shirt had shrunk in the dryer or if you’d just gotten too fat.
But we found an apartment that was cozy and we had access to a hot tub. A real luxury. Sometimes our friends would come over and get naked and fill up the hot tub. It was supposed to be for three people max. But we could fit in five or six. We’d just pile in, drunk and naked, making the hot tub look like a pot of human gumbo. And as we cooked in there I would pray to God our land lord wouldn’t see us. Because she was old and very sweet. Her house was right there. And it smelled like baked bread in there. And I would pray that my aunt Jacky wouldn’t call. Because I had been ignoring her calls and I felt like my heart was molding from it. No, I would have to answer and abandon my naked friends.
Down the street was the Columbian River, which looked calm but people told me was actually one of the most dangerous rivers in world. Beyond the river was Washington and places called Dismal Nitch and Cape Disappointment. Lewis and Clark were feeling grumpy when they got to this point in their journey. They were probably over hungry. A bowl of Lucky Charms would have helped.