Jamaica is where the moose live

Tonight at work I contemplated stealing an entire roll of receipt tape so that I could have a journal of thoughts literally scrolled, messy and unorganized. But I didn't.

I want to start writing again, mostly because I always saw myself growing older as a self-indulgent literary type who drinks tea at noon, and then quickly moves onto scotch or gin, in some swanky apartment, while my gem covered fingers write about.
But for now I do drink tea at noon , but I don't write and I live in a small town. This is due to the mundane nature of the life I live. It doesn't really allow for this flow of creativity, really. Basically I just really miss writing . Sometimes when life doesn't come together before our eyes, it comes together through words on paper, or in my case a receipt tape exerpt.

I'm off to Brewster tomorrow to visit my cousin for his Birthday and visit his family who is visiting him. This is the hippie side of my family. The ones who bee keep, violin play, while baked beans simmer, and wear flannel shirts like they are a staple. I'm not kidding you. And of course on this side of the family there is Molly. Which also brings the three of us together, Lindsey, Molly, and I. And you have to understand this hasn't happened for a long long long time. We live .8 miles away from eachother but Lindsey and I are always separated when hanging out with our cousin/best friend, so its really nice to be able to hang out together like old times...which brings up the name Ben. Ben is Molly's brother (our cousin). The four of us grew up very close--camping trips, school, just everything. Ben was the oldest, the one who always led us up through 80 degree mountain sides in Vermont, almost getting us killed by various animals up there. All of us were always thinking of something to do. We would go down to the West River and jump in off of "pride rock" haha or something like that. Lions in rivers? I'm not sure about our rationalitiy. Also this sparks the memory of the time that Molly Lindsey and I, were going rafting down the West River with my Aunt Terry, Molly's mom, except the river was like a stream during the summer. And my mom was pissed because we came back with our Filenes bathing suits all scratched and ragged. hahaha. soo good.

This memory popped into my head earlier at work, becuase I was sick of focusing in on the reality that is my job. One day camping in Jamacia, Vermont, it was a cloudy day, Ben and Molly ,and Lindsey and I were riding on our bikes around the river side spots, where we noticed smoke flaming from some brush. Coincidentally that same day ranger dressed Smokey The Bear was making an appearance in the state park. Of course we ran into him and quickly alerted Smokey that there was a fire. Problem was--Smokey couldn't give a shit less, nor talk. Knowing VT Smokey was probably stoned out of his little bear mind. Anyhow the fire was put under control and that is when I started being a bit skeptical of mythical northern animals that claim to be able to put fires out.

Well we aren't camping in VT tomorrow we are gone to the Cape, which is a place I haven't been for a long long time, but camping always brings good times and good memories.

Later,
Chach