Leap Month.

I drove home from Bridgewater just now, which I've done before, but suddenly what-the-fuck???? I find myself in New Bedford. It's fairly common knowledge that I don't live in New Bedford, particularly among the people in my car when I'm driving home alone. It seems I just plain old forgot to make sure I was heading the right way. Maybe I was burning all my focus concentrating on extra-safe driving because I knew the roads and skies were glazed of the meteorologist's favorite blend, the so-called Wintry Mix of snow and ice and slush and blah. Maybe the Brian Eno/David Byrne cd was distracting. It was totally out of character. I don't think I felt any more sleepy than usual, either. Eventually I found myself on 195, driving by that kinda-funny-but-mostly-just-erie neon animated cowboy, buckin' and broncin'. I nearly wiped out while heading down a neverending slipperyass offramp. I decided to listen to my two favorite tracks from Ray of Light, for some reason. Then one thing became all at once clear: it must be February, again. Different set of rules than January. This getting lost nonesense never would have happened 24 hours earlier:

At one am last night, Dan and I took a long drive and ended up in Kingston, in a giant field. I felt silly, because the place is so close to home, yet I've never stopped by there. Vast, pretty and quiet, even at night. We parked, found a walking stick leaning against a stump, and set out across the cool, squishy grass. The place must be popular for bird watching or something. The worn trail we followed wound in and out of woods, eventually leading us right to the edge of the ocean. We perched on an outcropping of rock, stared out into the bay, and talked about political stuff, big dreams and personal plans. The world is sick, we said. We humans should remember that we're still animals, we agreed. There must be so many ways to look at Life, he said, beyond science and technology. It's so easy to feel afraid, I told him, with so many systems in place reinforcing the Big Problems. Right. Small steps in small communities, we said. We tapped on the rocks, chatted about coming and going.

"It's just so important to surround yourself with friends who inspire you to do things," he said. "People who get excited about things you want to get excited about and live a kind of life that you want to emulate."

I thought about it, for a moment, and answered carefully. "Yeah, I hear that," I said. "I know what you're saying. But there are so many different things you can admire in a person and want to emulate. And it's not always that simple... there's a whole other currency, a currency of support. Sometimes it's more important to spend time and give support to friends who have been there for you and given you support in the past. You build a history together."

Such great terrain, there by the ocean. As we walked back through the dark, Dan pointed out large, desirable houses. Houses that I'd desire, anyway, if I was in a house-shopping phase of my life. The South Shore air had cooled, a little, but the car was still warm. Normally I don't bother to go into Kingston, because to me the town has never been much more than gas stations and a shopping mall;

we went to the mall tonight, to return a book. the rolling parking lot was dotted with modern monoliths: giant mounds of snowdirt, compacted and piled into mountains by plows after last week's snowfall. they rise out of the asphalt like dirtbergs, melting. from each pile, the sandy water puddles its way down slight slopes. nobody seems to notice the ugly snowmonsters, but then again, nobody seems to notice the mall's exterior either. it's warm out there, i guess;

i'm not sure if it's april or october, i just know it can't be january. i'm glad i didn't leave town sooner, because i would have missed this suprise throwback to last spring: corn-muffin coffee breaks, sap-sticky hands, straining muscles, dusty pickup trucks and the smell of hot air freshener. there's something especially satisfying about spending five hours dismantling one hundred yards of chain-link fence in the sixty-degree air, while ted and pru erect a classic wooden split-rail fence to take its place. i took down all that stonewashed-denim-colored aluminum with my own hands, a pair of vice grips, a half-inch rachet and a two-ton backhoe.

a modern eyesore, replaced and reverted. in a fantasy about the rest of my life, i imagine myself making a living by razing stripmalls. a skilled team and i join with the local community to bust up asphalt parking lots, fell steel lampposts, and disassemble cheap concrete spec structures. we take down backlit signs and dig up orphaned plumbing pipes. we save the cheap shelving and suspended ceilings for use in new day care centers and rotary clubs. people come from miles around to break off little pieces of each conveniece store, bank branch, or sub shop, just to remember how things used to look. once bulldozed, the wildflowers slowly return and the treeline inches its way back, if the town doesn't deside to build a baseball diamond.

today, for the first time in my life, i planted a tree in new england january.

What I did during my weekend.

Friday Night: Woke up from a nap on the recliner, in low light. Parents came home form work. Hopped in the car with them and rode to Falmouth, listening to The White Stripes with headphones. We went to my old high school to see my sister perform in a shortened version of The Spoon River Anthology. Pretty good. Made me miss acting, again. Alyssa did good work. Ran into Chrissy, who had helped direct the students, and her friends Liz and D.D. Decided to go down Cape with them for the night. Rode in the back seat as we drove listening to Pink. Ate a Reuben and drank ale at a breweing house, where we ran into Chuck. Chuck reminded me of Good Will Hunting. Seriously. We all went to a bar full of forty-year-olds where the band played covers by Billy Joel and the Violent Femmes. Smoked butts on the patio. Cracked lots of jokes to keep everyone comfortable. Pretended to be at the bar with both Liz and Chrissy, so the two sheisty guys resembling Mario and Luigi wouldn't bother them. Stared them down. Stared some other guy down using a silly look. Talked to Chrissy about respective plans for the future. Drank a vodka tonic. Went back to Chrissy's house along with Liz, where the three of us danced to Lauryn Hill, drank wine and talked real late.

Saturday: Slept until ten. Liz turned on the TV. Called Brittany to tell her I would be delayed getting back to Plymouth to help her mom move. Felt crappy when she told me to just forget it. Ate eggs, homefries, and coffee at the Keltic Cafe. Drove around listening to Natalie Merchant, The Pretenders, Cat Stevens, Blondie, Dee Lite, The Beastie Boys, Soft Cell, Indigo Girls, Sublime. Drove around more. Went back to the house where we all napped until five pm. Sat happily as they drove me all the way back home. Thanked them for good times and hugged good bye.

Saturday Night: Showered and shaved. Read some of How To Be Good. Joined the family and Alyssa's friend Stephanie at the table for chicken and mushrooms in dill alfredo with shallots over linguine, as improvised by my mother. Quite good. Cleaned room. Followed Erik and Steph to her house in Carver, and on to his house in Bridgewater. Drank orange juice and talked with them. We all watched the 20th anniversary DVD of Tron. One of the most underrated films ever. Jeff Bridges playing video games, groundbreaking effects that still stand out for their other-worldliness, imaginative and clever appropriation of computer and network concepts, Matrix-esque interaction between real and virtual worlds, and an anti-corporate plot. Smoked a Winston of two. Spend a little time clicking around the web with Erik. Stopped at Cumby's for gas and a V8 Splash. Rolled home listening to the Gorrillaz. Passed out with the window open, wearing only boxers.

Sunday: Slept late. Woke up and ate french toast with fruit and powdered sugar. Washed all the dishes. Swallowed down my mom's bitter coffee. Spent too much time posting to gangbang. Left the house to discover 55 degree air outside. Drove to Dave's to catc the rest of the Pats championship game. Drove with the window down, listening to Weezer, and it felt like last summer. Drank beer. Managed to focus all my attention on the televised game. Smoked down and played frisbee during halftime with Jonas, Adam and Dave. Jumped and yelled as the Patriots played what was simply a better game of football. Ate pizza. Told ourselves over and over that our team is actually going to the Super Bowl. Hit ATMs and picked up unhealthy chinese food at the Crappy Garden. Ate rice and chicken and spare ribs and bread and felt stuffed. Got the stupidest fortune cookie fortune ever, with something about "behind every good man is a suprising mother-in-law".

Sunday Night: Played Hydro Thunder on Dreamcast and drank Red Bull with vodka. Watched the Simpsons and Malcom with Dave and Adam and laughed a lot. Drove home to Mogwai.. Posted to sixfoot6 until midnight. Planned to take a headphone walk out on the course under the full moon, shoot some spooky flash photos, post one, and read myself to sleep.