Nobody Said it was Easy

Oh what a day. I woke up so angry at my dad knocking on my door to take Max to the doctor. I argued that it didn't make sense for me to bring him when my dad was going in that direction anyway. How would I know what would happen?

I ended up relenting when I saw that Max was suddenly incontinent. I wrapped him in a towel, yelled at my mom because she didn't understand that wanted her to open the plastic bag I brought to her to put Max in and finally got in the car. An hour later, Max was gone. We had to put him down. His cancer had just gone too far. Last night he was perfectly fine and hours later... It was a sad day. We buried him in the front yard under my mom's window.

In other Jen news, I curated a show at 200 Orchard this Saturday with the guys from The Glass. The Glass played The Music Slut's anniversary party this year and are just phenomenal people, so nice and so talented. DJ Jess's new reincarnation of his band We Are Americana, Pratique are playing as are Greenland, a new group from DC whom The Gaskets manager Igor now represents. It'll be a fun night and it's totally free, so please come and hang out.

CMJ is driving me insane but if the three shows I have lined up actually work out, After the Jump is going to have a fantastic week of shows. ATJ has also booked the Knitting Factory for their holiday festival on December 8th. The kind and accommodating people there have cleared the entire night for us to book, all three rooms. That will also be my birthday party, so get ready.

Also, something kind of awesome happened a few hours ago but I don't want to mention it yet until I actually know it will all work out. I will say that it involves me being hired to produce an event, an event that you'll all be begging me to get into.

By the Seashore

The problem with being a writer is that you never stop writing. You write in the shower, you write in the car, you write in your sleep. Beginnings of stories, great opening lines and biting commentary form an unceasing march through your mind. There is always a constant state of loss at sentences left unwritten and ideas unremembered.

It is Labor Day weekend, I am in Rhode Island and the words are coming in a constant stream. This trip seems a long time coming. Why that is true is hard to articulate. Because I used to like the friend whose house we are visiting? Because when I started this new life in New York, we both talked about his home here and it always made me curious? Or maybe I was just interested to see the place where this strange new person in my life grew up?

Nevertheless, I am here at Brook's home, spending the weekend with him, Kramer and Jill. Jill and Brook are currently seeing each other and sharing his small childhood bed whilst Kramer and I sleep alone. Watching the two of them cuddle last night on the couch felt like watching love musical chairs. Had this been another time, another place, that may have been anyone of us. But right now, nobody fits that roll better than Jill. And with her charm, humor, quick wit and beauty, perhaps none of us ever fit it so well. I don't think I have ever seen her lovelier than this weekend.

Our first evening in Portsmouth, RI was spent having a bonfire on the beach. New York friends Jason and Caterina met us there, Caterina's family live nearby and they both just moved to Boston for Cat to go to grad school. Sitting around the campfire, I find myself a little lonely as Cat nestled into Jason's lap as he whispered in her ear and Brook sat on the ground at Jill's feet while she stroked his hair. And even though Kramer sat there alone as well, I knew that back home there was young Eric waiting and wishing she hadn't gone away. A bright white moon hung heavily overhead, its light bounced off the waves and I gazed across the sound back towards Long Island.

Rhode Island is surprisingly beautiful. It is not just Family Guy, but a combination of the best of New England fishing villages and lovely east end Long Island towns. The harbors are full of sailing boats that in these bright end of summer days, sparkle like jewels on the crisp blue waters. Driving along the expansive bridges from Portsmouth to the mainland, I feel the weight of the life here. How it is heavier and more real than the fleeting acquaintances and transitory jobs that New York has to offer.