oh, hi: 3.3.05

So. Where have I been? I have been in New Yawk and spent some time realizing that I loathe my current employment situation and nothing would make me feel less so. This, mind you, despite the fact that it was said current employment that brought me, expense-free, to NYC for a week. Sigh. Trade-offs, there are always trade-offs aren�t there?

And then I came back here and spent some time realizing that even though I�ve got fuck all of a notion about how to reach that elusive time when things just �fall into place,� I am still pretty slaphappy satisfied with the ever-deepening goop (a.k.a. romantic attachment) that seems to be looming on ye olde horizon. Calm seas, zephyr winds, and the promise of safe landing. It be looking crazy from up in this crow�s nest.

All this begs the question of where I am going. Or perhaps the question of where I am not going. Well, for starters, I will not be going to Stabile�s. Stabile�s, if you don�t know, was a primo quality country-western bar in East Bawlmer. I went to Harm City this past weekend and found in its place, El Oaisis. El Yoassis. No doubt the blaring salsa rock and stench of knock-off Tommy Hilfiger cologne DO offer soothing respite, yet still, I was shocked. Shocked and dismayed, and moved to pen the following:

Dear Stabile�s:
I will miss your saddle bar stools, pool tables, line dancing, and killer jukebox. I wonder what happened to all your regulars? Where else can they go in East Baltimore? Remember that fun night we had downing Miller longnecks and shooting sloppy pool with an Elvis impersonator who kept proposing we snort some blow in the men�s room? Most of all, I will miss your airbrushed mural depicting some pinto ponies frolicking amongst the saguaro cacti beneath the setting sun. This vista was the perfect back drop to Eastern Avenue and the best reminder that out in the grand expanse there are places where the horizon doesn�t stop, the sky goes on forever, and the only limitation is the radio dial: your choice between sermons and country. Man, I will really miss you.

Oh, and p.s. Williamsburg: It was nice to run into you again. We'll have to make a point of seeing eachother more often. You are not all that but you're still ok.