2010.10.05
|  feeling so sophisticated and european carrying a spare tampon for v at the school's day at the amusment park |  endlessly jamming on the blues scale on the bandroom piano with mike | 
|  wrestling v's terribly overstuffed suitcase before she went back to germany |  mesmerized by the weight on a spring on a string pendulum in physics class | 
|  romancing ms., watching for shooting stars on the shore of the lake until her dad came with a flashlight |  the camaraderie of the dressing room for my high school's guys and dolls production, singalongs of "you've lost that loving feeling" and "pretty woman" | 
|  my big jule getting hit in the big jules by a clumsy sky masterson during dress rehearsal, the gratitude for being able to just lie there for a while |  kissing and snuggling in the back of mike's car, the soundtrack to blues brothers and good morning vietnam | 
|  watching mike getting his nose broken by a bully |  in portugal, running to catch a crazily crowded train after visiting its even more crowded dining car to get beers | 
|  that same trip, realizing i was drunk for the first time, regarding myself in the cafe's bathroom's mirror |  tipsy at the deserted train station, telling baptista about v and the dear john letter; him telling me about his hopless crush on his french tutor | 
|  once college started, finding out baptista had died; "let it be" coming on, and making me weep in my dorm room |  buying my mom a clown music box; one of the first gifts i remember feeling generous about | 
|  those summers working as a counselor at a daycamp for mentally handicapped kids had a lot of moments of their own |  ms's cramps halfway up the statue of liberty, helpless as she rolled on the floor in agony | 
|  noticing how piglike my reflection was in my tuba |  pepper flashing her breasts us in mike's frat's basement | 
|  visiting mom at her - our - new york apartment, and its view of sunset over the hudson |  in that same apartment, clambering over the 19th story roof with an australian visitor -- 'photography isn't about photos. photos never come out right. it's about the *adventure*" | 
|  l. standing in thought and her underwear in my dorm room, an inadvertant venus de waldorf |  improvising fanfares with the band director john on trumpet as a stalling tactic during commencement | 
|  reconnecting with v. in new york city, the ball drop at times square |  buying my aunt a great big vase from martha's vineyard to apoogize for making out with a girl in her living room | 
|  mom erasing 3,000 i owed her from college as a graduation gift, and the card she made to tell me |  a roadtrip to cleveland with r after graduation, going to those gardens with her and mike, lazing in the sun | 
A Jonamac apple followed by an atomic fireball tastes like oatmeal and cinnamon. Diggin' it.
