Oh My God

d-bag

Getting Steamed - The way I remember

Four days before Melissa was to arrive in Boston I bought a clothes steamer. I bought a clothes steamer because Melissa said only dumb & wasteful people use irons. She said that she could steam a shirt in a minute and nineteen seconds and have it free of wrinkles for seven and a half months even after it went through the wash. She also mentioned that the way I did my laundry made it appear that I was some sort ignoramus.

So, anyway, I bought a clothes steamer, the best I could buy and I tried it out and I had limited success.

A day before Melissa was to arrive in Boston she asked me to bring the steamer so that she could steam the wrinkles out of her clothes. I said there will be an iron there and she said, "What?! Am I dumb and wasteful?" I said, "No Mame." So, she had me bring it to where we would be staying so she could use it and also so she could train me on how to use it.

She assured me that she would be very patient with me because she understood that I was a man and that men know absolutely nothing about clothing and that we're hard to train.

So, I brought the steamer, and on day one I had a shirt I needed to get the wrinkles out of and I asked, "Melissa, will you please help me steam my shirt so that I can look good for you?" I believe her response was, "I'm not your mother or your maid and it is going to take a whole lot more than getting the wrinkles out of your rags to make you look good."

Things like that went on for basically four days until finally I tried to use the steamer myself. I tried and tried to get the wrinkles out but I could just not get as good as results with the steamer as I could with an iron and that is when the beatings began.

I eventually had a little bit of skill so graciously beaten into me that Melissa was able to take in laundry from the surrounding rooms to have me steam the wrinkles out of and to make herself some money.

She never actually steamed any of her clothes that I know of but possibly she did, I really don't know because most of the time she forced me into the wardrobe where I was forced to sleep standing up.

Wardrobe where I was allowed to sleep

Fiction facts

It appears that Melissa's story telling is similar to her photos in that she changes them from true and real into something else.

But her story about getting steamed did make me laugh almost as much as she made my dear sweet mother cry.

I should be in bed - is what someone yelled at me - but what about the art?

Georgia On My Mind

 

It's a little surreal when you're walking through the museum and you see the original of a famous painting and you are so close to it that you could lick it.

Asparagus and Geese

I talk about my bartenders from time to time because often it is just my bartenders that I’m talking to, so she knows about Amanda.

Amanda is a very sweet person.

The first time we were at that bar together we ordered the barbeque chicken which usually comes with a side of asparagus but on our particular day they were out of that vegetable. Amanda came over to us and pouted a little as she was breaking the news to us only she said aspara-goose, which was cute and funny.

By the hotel we were staying was an area of grass where two geese seemed to like to hang out and most often than not Melissa would mention the geese. Once I said, “I beat you already have names for them.” She said, “Yes, I do: Aspara-Goose One and Aspara-Goose Two.”

Times: Two

If you buy a ticket to the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston you will get one free re-admittance within the following ten days. You will get the one free re-admittance even if you personally did not buy the ticket.

We were there on a Tuesday and a week had passed, so I made a point of using the ticket before it would expire. I ended up going on a Wednesday. I walked in and proffered my ticket and received a slightly puzzled look. It was then explained that Wednesday nights are donation nights and that anyone can seek admittance with a donation of any amount, even a donation of zero dollars.

I asked to use my ticket anyway. I was then informed that I could apply the price of the ticket towards a membership. I had been thinking of getting a membership and had pretty much decided that I would be getting on in the future so I took the offer to apply $20 that I had not personally paid for the ticket towards a membership that would admit two adults. I considered it as if we both were buying the membership together.

I think that it is pretty damn cool being a member of the MFA.

I told Melissa that I had plans of going back to use the ticket but I told her that I was most likely going to go on Thursday because I knew that they were open rather late on Thursdays, but after I told her I checked and found out that they are open late on Wednesday as well.

I wanted to share the good news with her but I think chatting on the phone in a museum is not cool so I pulled my iPod Touch from the breast pocket of my jacket and checked for a wifi signal.

I got one and send an email.

We emailed back and forth for a few times. I would take some photos and then check my email. She eventually told me to basically shut up and enjoy the art. I took some photos of the things that I liked and I took some photos of the things that I thought she would like but then the battery in my camera died and I felt alone in the museum. Melissa was no longer in my ear and no longer in my eyes.

There was still plenty of time that the museum would have been open and I didn’t want to waste the ticket that was a gift so I didn’t want to just leave but then I realized that I was a member and not only me but Melissa too because when they asked if I wanted to add a name to the account, I gave her name. We are “Contributors” of the museum and we can come and go as we please, we will get special offers, and discounts and member only invitations, we can leisurely stroll through exhibits and if we miss something we can return any time we wish in the future. Membership has its privileges.

I left voluntarily this time and by the front door, I was walking down the front steps when I realized I was about to loose my free wifi signal so I checked my email one last time.

There was a message which I replied to and then walked away from the signal; when I got home I read her reply.

I was just thinking of you when I got your email. I love you so much!

I hope you had a good time and got some photos.

When can I hear your voice again?

I miss you so much!

In the museum, there is the New American Café, it sits in the middle of an inside courtyard in front of the new wing; and to get from one part of the museum to the next, sometimes it is most convenient to pass through the courtyard, while I was passing through I glanced at the people dining, not actually looking at the people but just at the scene and my heart sank a little. For a week’s worth of meals I got to gaze at her and converse with her; we shared a table, a meal and a conversation and it bothered me that it was now missing.

I miss you so much.

The Long Way

I didn’t know your reason for wanting to take the long way but I’m glad you did. I knew you were cold and I worried about it, I didn’t know how cold, I didn’t know if we could risk getting you colder or not.

I wasn’t going to ask you to take the long way but I wanted you to walk further with me. You may remember that there was more than one long way to where we wanted to be; the route didn’t matter to me, it was walking with you I desired.

We’re not the same when we’re riding the T as we are walking about; and one of us being high on sugar and caffeine had little to do with needing to walk.

We ducked into the doorway of a vacant storefront. There was a family behind us and their conversation kept on intruding in my thoughts and outrunning them wasn’t a realist option so I made a reason for them to pass us.

The doorway to the vacant storefront used to be the doorway to a used and out-of-print bookstore. It was the same bookstore that we visited two days before, at their new location.

As I pulled her in, I said, “This is where Commonwealth Bookstore used to be. It looks to be about the same size as their new place.” She replied with, “What’s Commonwealth Bookstore.” I told her that the little bookstore hidden in that little alley that we went to was Commonwealth Bookstore and that the only reason I was showing her was to let that family that was behind us to pass.

While we were there, she looked around and read the graffiti; a young woman was walking by; she was walking by rather quickly, she seemed to be walking with purpose but when she saw us, she all of a sudden became intrigued. She made what seemed to be a ninety degree turn and marched right in. We left.

We continued down the street and a little while later, the young lady raced passed us and then stopped in a doorway to a college dormitory. I calculated that she was in that other doorway for a couple minutes. I wondered if she was fascinated by what she had seen or she was just simply trying to figure out why we were so fascinated by it.

I did call the young woman a sheep because sometimes I like to say mean things about people I don’t know, like stating that a delightful older woman wearing a delightful orange scarf, out to dinner with one of her girlfriends sitting at a table directly adjacent to us, just happens to look somewhat like the very aged Peter O’Toole.

Oh I see

We were on the phone together as I was reading her newest blog post which was mostly pictures. She was slightly perturb that she did have my undivided attention and I would have argued that my attention was divided but all the division were on her but she only sigh her displeasure and never voiced it.

I stated that I really liked her pictures and I gave some reasons. I then asked, ‘Did you adjust the contrast?” and without any shame or delay in answering she said, “Yes, I did.”

Night And Day

We were outside the rear entrance of the Museum of Fine Arts because that’s the exit they had chosen to throw us out of; Melissa was rubbing the spot on her ass that hit the pavement, as I shivered a little from the contrast of the warm museum to the bitter cold where we now found ourselves, when she noticed the Night part of Night And Day.

She mentioned that she knew about this piece of art as she readied her camera.

I looked to the left, on the other side of the large stone stairway to check that Day was still there and then pointed it out to Melissa.

“You expect me to walk way over there? In this cold?”

“Well…”

Icy stare from Melissa.

“I guess not. It was stupid to mention it.”

I haven’t studied the piece of art nor have I even read anything about it (yet but I think there is a link somewhere close) but the only difference that I could see was that one baby head had its eyes open while the other giant baby head did not. In other words there was not a day and night difference between them.

She did let me hold her hand as we walked around to the front of the museum to catch a trolley but I think that was because she wasn’t wearing gloves.

Once Kissed

Once, I had a very precise dream about a kiss and I posted about it. She mentioned that she really liked the post, that she really liked that type of kiss, so months later, when she leaned in for the first time, my plan was to do my best to replicate that kiss.

First, I mostly just made my lips available; she let me know what she wanted. So much for plans.

What she wanted was tender and intimate and delicate, lips slightly tugging on lips and only the very tips of tongues touching, after. The tongues had no restricted movements but there was a particular depth which was respected at all times and produced a rather passionate kiss totally free of any incidental slobber. Spittle can really ruin a moment; we didn’t have that problem. Each kiss would end with another delicate pull or two of locked lips.

Train

I was running a little late but I usually leave a little early so I guess I was on time so I didn’t worry about until I got to the train station and heard over the public address system that there was a 15-20 minute delay due to a disabled train at Park Street.

There was nothing that I could do about it so I got on the next train that came. Progress was slow and the passengers were constantly reminded of the disabled train at Park Street until the train we were on broke down.

The passengers were not happy with the change in news and I could hear the rumbling of complaints so I pulled out my iPod. The employees of the public transit system were doing some things to try to get us moving again but nothing worked so they decided that pushing our train with the train behind us was the solution.

Now I don’t know how familiar all my faithful readers are with riding a subway train but it is often a jerky ride, there are quick stops and quick starts, it is just the way it is. If you ride it more than twice you know about the jerkiness.

They told us that they were going to attach the train behind us to our train and then push us to the next station. Now I know attaching two trains together is not similar to a delicate kiss on the lips from a dear loved one, I know that there will be a bump in our near future and I just assumed that everyone else knew but when it came there was what seemed to be extreme surprise and over concern to slight jerk, caused by a bump, that was less of a jolt you get when the train starts from a stand still.

Often people discourage me.

I was forty minutes late but life goes on.

Dr. Yes

I know I am over weight and I know that my blood pressure is elevated and I know that I have not had a physical in about thirty years; so I scheduled an appointment for a checkup.

It was all new to me and there were not too many friendly faces during the check-in process so it was a relief when Rose called out my name because Rose was friendly.

Rose took my weight and height and then escorted me to an examination room where she asked me some questions and then took my blood pressure. Whenever I have my blood pressure taken, I will be asked if I am nervous, I always answer, “Yes”. She then told me that the doctor would see me once he finishes with another patient and she motioned to the adjacent room. I then said, “Thank you, Rose.”

Dr Win can in about fifteen minutes later. We did the regular examination things. I told him of my mom’s high blood pressure and that my dad most likely died of heart disease.

He said my weight was high but that I shouldn’t worry about loosing all the weight that would get me down to what would be ideal and he said that my blood pressure was high but that cutting down on salt and exercising more would drop it.

It was all good to hear but he didn’t even tell me that I should do those things only that I could.

He then massaged my balls and sent me on my way.

from before