back to civilization

and i've discovered i hate "civilization."

because civilization is so uncivilized.

first, the vitriol, before i end this post with a lovely ode to cherry grove.

you may want to skip this paragraph. to the ghetto girls on the new jersey transit who were snorting and rolling your eyes at me as i passed by visibly struggling with my mountain of luggage, shove your lee press on nails up your ass. and to the starched white shirt businessmen types with your tiny little briefcases who stood there also rolling your eyes, if you don't want to hear the clanging of luggage, fucking get out of the way or help. if all 102 pounds of me can carry all that shit from long island to new jersey, your snooty little pansy asses can lift a finger to help traffic along the aisles. it is clear that the fire island queens (who are all in shape, more fun, and a hundred times more polite - unless provoked of course) can kick your little pasty straight booties from here to fargo.

and that is why i hate "civilization." uncivilized bastards!

the people at cherry grove, fire island are so very helpful and nice. our landlord, an old italian lesbian prone to fits of singing at the moon while drinking her homemade wine (emily1, she has promised to send me her recipe) and her lovely artist wife, kept offering us fresh towels, grilled vegetables, wine, and even berries picked from the tree in the front lawn. they were used to renting to older, more affluent people who wanted an escape from the city, so when we little twenty somethings trotted into her humble abode, she was very pleased that we were not a rowdy bunch. she hinted that she had suffered through "screaming kids" in the past. her property is a large beachfront house many blocks from the center of town. we had two porches, a kitchen, and a private walk to the beach.

the reason why i go to cherry grove is to escape real life -- cars, rude people, work, school, responsiblity, noise, pollution, and any other annoyance of modern life. the only time any of these scourges invade the tranquility of the island is saturday night, when the kiddies take the ferry over for a few hours and then return to long island / manhattan. however, if you stay in your beachhouse, you will never suspect that the town exists at all. my girlfriend was looking for a club scene (my thinking is that if you want to find a "club scene" go into manhattan - not a boardwalk village of eclectic houses owned by sextegenarian queers - what was she thinking?), and she failed to find it. however, i found my much-needed vacation.

emily1 and i cooked paella from scratch; the next day our friends grilled tandoori-style chicken on the grill; the following day we made an indian-style spinach and brown rice dish; and then my friend jodi and i cooked a pink vodka sauce using only fresh ingredients. it was very nice. deer ate spinach out of my hand. i made the mistake of eating skittles on the beach, because a curious little doe came up to me and chomped a few out of my hand before wandering off. i thought it was a dog at first. it was only three feet tall.

the waves were very intense over the weekend, but by midweek, the waves were calm enough for me to go backstroking in the ocean. the whole atmosphere was very calming.

i am so very annoyed that i am back. well, at least i live on a slightly tree-lined block in a large apartment and not in a shoebox in that concrete-and-trash jungle where i used to live. i think that i'd go ballistic from the extreme change of scenery.

now off to a nice large empty bed for a nap.