Below are the 4 most recent journal entries recorded in decemaius' LiveJournal:

Thursday, June 2nd, 2005
3:55 pm	Hi. It's HOT in Vermont! I'm sitting here quite nude sipping a freshly blended, ice cold strawberry-banana-orange juice smoothie while listening to Cindy and Kate serenade me in the background. Sounds like summer to me! I just picked up the B-52s anthology which doesn't have as many songs as I would have thought a complete anthology would have. But it does include my favorite songs...Girl from Ipanema, Song for a Future Generation, Legal Tender, Summer of Love, Ain't it a Shame, She Brakes for Rainbows, and one I don't think I'd heard before I got this set: Revolution Earth. They're all so much fun to listen to. I had never noticed how Fred's voice sounded before, in particular his hissing sibilants. Do you suppose he's gay? And what about Ricky!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Jesus!!!!!!!!!!!! Why didn't somebody tell me he died of AIDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Do you suppose Ricky was gay? Henceforth I'll try omitting the incriminating labels. I'm trying to make my way through this book written in '89 by a man called "Refusing to Be a Man". It's non-fiction and when that happens my speed dives to a snail's pace. But he mentions a couple important points and I think one of them that he's about to make is that there are as many different sexualities as there are people! Shocking revelation! Sorry, had to get up and jiggle to Ipanema! Keith, Cindy and Ricky wrote that one. Forever in their debt for it. Roam's coming up in about 15 minutes, so I'll leave to do the Whiskey Whatu... I don't like Wig. That one and REM's Stand are two of the UGLIEST songs. Back to it. Each person has a different skin type, fingerprint, hair color, eye color, etc. Maybe, because it's not really a physical trait, it harder to identify. But maybe I'm generalizing. I'm realizing that most pure bred Asians have very straight, heavy, black hair that doesn't seem to differ from person to person. Do they ever go bald? I suppose when they comingle their genes with our tainted Western ones... Tahitian Noni. Everyone. Everywhore. I'll never be able to forget that. Thank you sister mine, Engrish.com, and that brutal bottle of Champagne for an hour and a half of unmittigated laughter and joy. So that party that I mentioned in the last entry was a complete disaster for me. I managed about two hours of hateful hell before mustering the strength to say "I'll be going now." Thing is that they were none of them responsible for my discomfort. It's this incredible feeling of inadequacy that always catches me up. I made semi-successful Baklava for the party. Sure looked pretty, and the flavor is quite good once it cools, but, unlike other Baklavas I've tasted, the fillo dough got all soggy on the bottom. Poopy! The party left me feeling so shitty that I left work early the next day to go home and cry for a little while. Then I smorked a goddamned cigarette! And the next evening another! And then I went north to Lake Willoughby, which is supposed to be one of the best extant examples of glacial scouring. On the way up I passed through backwoods fucking Vermont and was greeted about every five miles by another fucking TAKE BACK VERMONT sign. Those fucking fucked up fuckers!!!!!!!! Fuck!!!!!!!! That aside, the lake and surrounding landscape was breathtaking through the translucent downpour. The lake is corsetted in the middle by two very tall, cliff-like walls of very hard rock. Must be the scouring they were talking about in the guide. It's also supposed to be Vermont's deepest lake. So while I stopped to look at this scene, I had one glorious cigarette under my umbrella and waited until I had reached Montpelier on the way home to smork the other. The guy at the party, Craig, was just as shy as I was. He couldn't comfortably look at me either. But I got more looks in while I was there and the package is splendid! I mean him, the whole him, not his private area. He was wearing this wreath (because he graduated) of some sort of of wild Witch_______ thing with big, ultra spring green leaves and white flowers of two sizes. He apparently just got his ears pierced and was wearing to little 1cm silver hoops. Cute! We'll see what comes. Apparently he's in New Jersey housesitting for a couple weeks. So we've got a little while to yearn, if necessary. Wow! That's a long one, Joe, Joseph, Seph. That last one looks better on paper than it sounds to the ear. One last thing. Been thinking a lot about my megalomanical self and the future of this country once the bomb goes off and my role as leader of the free thinkers and terrific people is cemented. I'll be a fair and just person who gives wise counsel and encourages animal like solutions to big problems. I'd rather give you a love bite than harbor feelings of passive agressive rage. How bout it? Well it's a thought. I hope my sister reads my mind and meets me in the message realm later on. Love you, Male Human Animal with Blue/Green/Gray and Flecks of yellow eyes and bushy blond hair and little trim auburn mustachioed goatee and 6'0" of skeleton covered with fat, skin and sparse little hairs. (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Tuesday, May 24th, 2005
4:02 pm	My aching spleen! Boy, I sure hope I spelled aching correctly... The thing is that I have to go to this party tomorrow or Thursday night, and the people who are throwing the party have already said that it will be an alcohol free event, so... do I get a little tipsy before I arrive or try to skip the inhibition loosener and act all cool and natural, while simultaneously racing the impossibly speedy emotional race course my mind usually runs in social situations. Disgusting, horrid english sentence construction that was. Apologies. Regardless, the point of the whole thing is to celebrate two friends' graduation from Middlebury. I've had funny dealings at college functions as an established townie. Maybe, because they've graduated, there won't be that uncomfortable, inevitable division between us, the "haves" and "have nots". The more I say things like that the more likely I am to believe them. Ah, the power of the written word to convince oneself that one is capable of all one says one is capable of. Certainly one of the smartest things ever said there. You can quote me. But really, the point is that one of the people who is arranging the party works with me (Emily) and is the girlfriend of one of the two Midd grads she's throwing this party for (Zubin). The other Midd grad is also Emily's roommate and one of the sweetest looking guys I've seen (Craig). She's invited me, I think, to try to set me up with Craig! So that's the point. Now, it makes more sense to get a wee buzz on beforehand, no? I have this delightful idea for costume, since the theme is "Flower Power". I'll wear my blood red dress shirt with my Cary Grant style wool trousers and terrific little gay heel shoes with bright yellow Gerber daisies inserted in the button holes and tied expertly around my neck but under the collar to make a sort of tie. Then I think I should wear the dayglo, lime-green stretch pants with some flowery shirt I need to buy. I'm sure it will be perfect regardless. Love! A rabid bulldog tethered to a dead tree. Love! A soundless monarch navigating a breeze. Love! A chocolate creemee sprinkled with jimmies and nuts and put in a cone that just fell on the ground. Love! That inescapably wonderful and desirable thing that I daily yearn for. You know, right down in my loins. Really, I've had quite enough of you for one day...peckerhead. (Comment on this)
Tuesday, May 10th, 2005
7:19 am	"Viel Glueck zum Geburtstag!" He says to himself. Question is, does he know what he's saying. Well, it's happening soon, guys. I'll be 30 today at 9:16 a.m., and in all truthfulness, I don't really feel any different than I did yesterday. I had this notion that wrinkles would suddenly appear, and my nonexistent tits would start to sag, and Mr. Dickens wouldn't stand so tall when at attention. Fortunately, none of these things has happened...yet, so life can still go on for this vain little Vermonter. But I wonder if this reduces my chances of finding a date now that I've been around for 3 decades. Just a thought. So I simply must tell you what I did on the last full day as a 29 year old! I woke up and had a bowl of my new, favorite, hot cereal Maltex, and liberally poured on the fancy syrup. Then I watched the making of The Living Daylights and a brief documentary about Ian Fleming, both mildly entertaining. I'm on another Bond binge. When suddenly I looked out the window and noticed what a glorious day it had become. Sunshiny and high 60s, low 70s maybe! So I decided to do what I was supposed to do on May 9th and drove myself to the Wright Park entrance at the end of Seymour Street and parked my Red Subaru Outback (typical), locked the doors and was tempted to leave a message stating that the removal of the stereo from my car would render the thing unusable without the key CD (which was not, by the way, in the car. Smart, huh?). But I didn't. So, because the tailgate doesn't lock, I took my chances and left the car as it was. I brought with me my camera, a sweater, and a pipe with some left over green in it, and started down the path. But not a minute after getting on the trail, I diverged and took the path never taken that goes up the little hill to the right of the trail (bushwacking and branchscratching and forwardbending the whole way). Really not much to this part of the story except that I found a cracked, green insulator that they used to use on old telephone poles. On the other side of the hill lies the right of way, the railroad tracks that cut through Addison County. I took a picture, and had my one hit from the pipe, threw the insulator at the tracks until it broke into a million little pieces, and headed north. I took pictures along the way, stopped and stared at many beautiful things, and thought lots and lots about all kinds of things. My intention was to write things down in the little sketch book I brought, but I kept feeling this sense of urgency, like I'd miss something if I didn't get there on time. (That was not foreshadowing, I swear!) After about an hour and a half of balancing on the left-hand rail, I reached the Brooksville Bridge, which you may not have seen. I think my sister knows the spot. Seems like there was a Baker reunion there one year at the Rivers Bend Camping Grounds. It's hard to say just how high the damned bridge is, but the closer I got to it, the higher it seemed from the river below. I made the resolution to cross the thing before I realized that it was much too high and dangerous. For the most part, the gaps between the ties were only about four or five inches wide, not quite enough to get the length of a foot through, but enough to get a good view of the scenery below. I now understand vertigo! And the very real fear of crossing a railroad bridge. I'd lose concentration and instead of watching the railroad ties would see what was going on a hundred feet below. I think I stopped five or six times on the bridge to get my bearings and convince myself to finish. It took a lot longer than I'd imagined. I would freeze every time I got ready to start again or when I approached a large gap in the ties. It's amazing how difficult it was to lift my foot to begin again. Regardless, I made it across and continued north, with this enormous sense of relief. Indescribable feeling I think. About a minute after I got off the bridge I heard rustling in the leaves off to my right and (could have been the green), I thought I saw a great big cat, or at least the foot of one, which was, in all probability, only a squirrel. The only reason I thought it wasn't was the length of time and the amount of noise it made getting away from me. So I raised my arms above my head with my fingers curled to look like claws in what can only be described as a "menacing" manner. Then it happened. A whistle from a train coming south on the tracks. I wondered what I should do! After much circle turning and plenty of uncertainty, I decided to hide in the cedars on the left side of the track and watch the train go by. I felt like a spy on some clandestine operation, but rather more like a kid than anything. I emerged from the trees and watched the thing go by, and began to think: not five minutes ago I was crossing that damned bridge! Fucking fool! So I went north a bit further and cut across some fields and ended up in Weybridge at the rickety bridge and continued my journey barefoot on the road until I got to the TAM (Trail around Midd, which makes my think of the Taminest Tat). This leads back to Wright Park and the end of my journey. I wore new shoes and now have disgusting blisters on the bottoms of my feet. It's just after 8:30 now, in less than 45 minutes I'll officially be dreissig! I wish I could write. I know what I want to say, but I want to say it all so quickly that I don't finish properly. (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Monday, May 2nd, 2005
3:40 pm	First entry Hi animals! In eight days I turn 30! That exclamation point is meant to be more of a disbelieving kind of inflected thing! Auuuugh! I'm too distracted right now to write much, but I promise to come back. Maybe closer to the 10th. Love and peace and harmony (harp strings vibrating melodically in the backround). Current Mood: morose Current Music: Duran Duran "Decade" (4 Comments |Comment on this)