Rattlesnake Mountain, Raymond, ME

Alright! Another 2 week break in my blog. I've been incredibly busy and it has ruled. Today was only the second day out of 16 where I didn't do something cool outside. And the other day I didn't do anything, I drove 400 miles. This summer has ruled. 

SO, like a month ago, I went home to Maine for my birthday (wow, I literally am a month behind). I got there with about 5 minutes to spare before we played 18 gorgeous holes of golf on Father's Day. Afterwards, I got 3 "holy shit"s out of my dad when I gave him a 50 dollar bottle of scotch (I usually only give him small things), and we watched the US Open together. Not a bad day. 

It was real pretty. 

The next day was my birthday and I wanted to do something cool, so I decided to go on a hike I had looked into earlier in the year when I realized I would be hiking a lot this summer- Rattlesnake Mountain in my hometown of Raymond, Maine. I followed this guide, and it was pretty accurate. 

After stopping at a convenience store I used to buy candy at in like 3rd grade and talking to the person working there (she at least remembered the friend who lived around the corner), I pulled into the parking lot, which was pretty much just a lawn on the side of the road. 

The trail was called the Bri-Mar trail. 

It starts with extremely thick grass and the mountain in the distance.

After entering the woods, the trail was pretty much a road. It eventually split. 

You can go either way here, as both ways connect and veer left. I went the left way. Shortly after that, the actual trail begins, turning right off the road. It was marked with blue blazes.

It was surprisingly immediately steep. It wasn't anything absurd, but for a mountain with only 625 feet of elevation gain, I think at least 500 of that was right away. And for a smaller mountain with a small town, beginner-mountain feel, it was steeper than I was expecting.

punk kids tagging everything!

It was doable though, and had been cleaned up nicely from some fallen trees (apparently in hiker's language, BLOWDOWNS- just learned that). 

Passing the best view, I followed a side trail to what seemed like the actual summit of the mountain. It was pretty thrilling.

Following the guide, I saw all of the side trails and agreed that they weren't worth going down. I also followed the blue-blazed trail for awhile past the summit as well- it kept going downhill and I'm pretty curious as to where it goes, as it's obviously another trail on the opposite side of the mountain. 

The only real reason to hike this mountain is to do some hiking in a small town and to take in the main view, about 5 minutes from the actual summit.

It's not white-mountains spectacular, but for Raymond, Maine, it was pretty awesome.

I was somewhat shocked that I had never hiked this mountain for school or as part of the cub scouts. Or I have, and I've completely forgotten. But for someone who spent basically the first 18 years of my life in this small town, growing up on Sebago Lake and taking swimming lessons on Crescent Lake, it was pretty awesome to be looking out over Sebago, Panther Pond and Long Lake.

I had no idea views like this existed in this town

Most of the trees that would have blocked the views were cleared out, and although I kind of wish there had been some sort of tower or area to climb up to get even better views, these were well worth the small effort it took to get up there. A perfectly surprising and satisfying hike out of nowhere. Gotta love that.

On the way out, I couldn't help but notice how awesome the grass and flowers were in the sunlight.

I stopped at Crescent Beach on my way out. I spent nearly every day of my summers here, taking swimming lessons my parents forced me to take. But as much as I hated getting there at like 7 in the morning (the advanced classes were early in the morning, so I kept going earlier as the years went on), I  always had great times here- whether they be with my 1st grade girlfriend I swam with after class, or the other 5-10 friends who would show up later in the day. I became certified (at least as officially as a 5th grader could be) in advanced water safety, got to swim with my clothes on, kick my teacher in the head, swim laps forever, shred water forever, etc. One of my best friends in 6th grade lived at the camp down the street too, so I found myself back there even later in life. Even though I attach this beach to bad memories in the "ughk, stupid swimming lessons" way, I have so many good memories here, and it felt weird and kind of neat to stand on the beach for the first time in probably 20 years, on the day of my 31st birthday, noticing just how small the beach and swimming area actually is (to be fair, it used to be much bigger- they did actually cut it down). 

I headed home and sat on the dock and read for a bit. Then Dad came home with pizza and we had cake. Can't believe I'm 31. Hiking a mountain I've somehow never hiked and reminiscing about my youth while revisiting old stomping grounds was a nice way to celebrate.

For those who are reading this for the Rattlesnake information, the parking lot is about a mile and a half down the road from Crescent Beach, on your left, going north on Route 85. The hike is about 625 feet of elevation gain and 2 miles round trip. 

currently listening to: Phish- Live at Saratoga Springs, 7/7/2012

Christmas

As I get older, Christmas means less and less to me. Working in retail for the last 5 Christmases made me really see how much of a headache it is for so many people. It's easy to blame greed and say people lost the spirit, but that's not entirely it- they're trying. They're out buying stuff for people they love. They're just doing it too late, and everyone is doing it at the same time. The pressure of needing to get everything you want to get for everyone you know, going to every party, making time for family, combined with working and sunlight fading, temperatures dropping, etc. It's just a mess. A lot of it is brought on by society and what we're all expected to do, but at the same time, most of it is with good intentions, it's just too much stuff in one month. Working in retail and being in the heart of the beast for the 6 weeks or so that comprise "the holiday season" killed any Christmas spirit I had. Seeing the anger and misery that it brings out in people, seeing myself grow angrier and angrier every day, I couldn't help but see how much of a self-induced panic attack the whole thing is.

But this year I wasn't working, and I live with 2 people who really like Christmas, so I was hopeful some of the spirit would come back. I tried to get into it by posting nothing but Christmas pictures on instagram for a week. Here are two favorites:

an awesome house down the road from us

a huge tree down the road from my parent's house

I helped Rich and Josh decorate the house tree, watched Ernest Saves Christmas and a few other classics, and tried to let the spirit take me over.

But sadly, life said "oh, you want to have a good christmas? screw you!" and I got what I can only guess was food poisoning for 4 and a half days, ending on December 23rd. I had a horrible feeling in my stomach for a day, and felt sick and just disgusting with a horrible taste in my mouth. I was awake for only like 6 hours out of a full day, and I was a zombie for those 6. After that, I barely ate, and when I did, let's just say it didn't go well. The days I was planning on buying everything and for the first time ever being fully caught up, were spent sitting in my room in a weakened daze, sleeping, or in the bathroom. It sucked. 

And then, on December 21st, my Grandmother died. She'd been deteriorating for quite awhile and had taken a turn for the worse right around the time I got sick. Alzheimer's basically just shut her body down. She was an awesome Grandmother, but she had been in an assisted living home in New Jersey for 11 years, and I hadn't seen her in probably 8. I didn't see her start to fall, just heard it from my Mom periodically over the last few years. So, I wasn't shocked and felt like it was just her time- she had a great life and died at 91, having swam (her favorite thing to do) just 3 weeks before she died. She lived a great life, so this wasn't terribly sad or a shock, but it obviously meant this Christmas wasn't quite going to have the happiness I was hoping for. 

I headed up to Maine on Thursday, Christmas Eve eve. I stopped everywhere I needed to and was extremely successful in last minute Christmas shopping, even wrapping everything that night. My Mom was in surprisingly decent spirits, but the little kid in me trying to hold on to tradition was pretty sad to see that the tree was still sitting in the garage. It bummed me out, but I had to understand it- they hadn't exactly had time to put up a tree and decorate it. 

So, Christmas Eve, my Dad put the tree and lights up, I ate delicious pizza for dinner (which has become a sweet tradition), and I decorated the tree after dinner- the latest it's ever happened. My parents joined in at the end to hang up their favorites, and it suddenly felt a little more like Christmas. Check out these sweet ornaments:

yes, at one point, I was adorable.

and then awkward with a really big head.

This is my all time favorite ornament. It goes on the tree last, with a traditional blind throw at the tree. Wherever it lands, that's where it stays. Why do I do that? Because this ornament is THAT GOOD.

Yup, paper taped to string, with apparently how I wrote my name on the biggest piece. My idea when I was however young I was when I made this was that if I ran out of space on the right side of the paper, I would just wrap the word around. Some teachers said that it actually made sense in a way. I'm not sure what they thought of me writing the letters backwards (maybe I've been autistic all these years), and I'm sure they weren't happy that I apparently thought my name was MICHAE, but whatever.

I also love these ornaments, which always go at the top of the tree:

For a last minute tree with very little Christmas spirit, it came out gorgeous. It was beginning to look a lot like Christmas. 

Tradition changed again when my parents said instead of watching How The Grinch Stole Christmas right before bed (a tradition going back like 18 years), they wanted to watch it first so they wouldn't fall asleep to it. I accepted on one condition- that we watch Home Alone afterwards, which ruled. What a fantastic movie.

The Grinch- the best Christmas cartoon in existence

My parents had already told me that I wasn't getting much this year- that it wasn't going to be a great Christmas because of all of the bad that had come with the month. Sometime around dinner, my Dad told me that we also wouldn't be doing stockings. Yes, I'm 30 and my brother hasn't been here for Christmas in like 6 years, but I still write a note every year to Santa, leave out food, and leave my stocking for it to get filled. These are the traditions that keep the child inside happy. Hearing this hurt, but I understood- they frankly hadn't been able to do any shopping for any stocking stuffers, and really just weren't feeling Christmas enough to try and make it happen anyway. Even though the tree looked great and we were going to try our best to make Christmas work, I was pretty sad about this. This felt big. I started to get bummed out more. As much as I try to never think about it, I couldn't help but think that I had gotten them a ton of stuff with no income, and I wouldn't be unwrapping much at all the next day. Both of them were pretty subdued and randomly sad, so it was kind of awkward too. And now no stocking either?

But it's a funny thing- watching Home Alone and The Grinch, suddenly, in a weird realization that felt like I was in my own Christmas movie, I realized what this Christmas was. This was the Christmas that Santa didn't come, I was home alone, and I was lucky to just have my family on Christmas morning. This was the year The Grinch stole my Christmas, but Christmas came. It came just the same. Christmas Day was in our grasp, so long as we had hands to clasp.

Presents weren't important this year. It was ok if traditions weren't the same. I had been pretty unhappy a lot of the month. It had been stressful trying to put together a Christmas when my spirit just wasn't there. I spent a lot of time wondering if I was going to be able to even have a Christmas with everything going on with Grandma. I worried about her and about my parents. Then I was sick for 5 days. And my parents had had a miserable month, culminating with their mother dying a few days before Christmas. Maybe this year, just us being together was good enough. Maybe just me being there for my Mom and trying to make her happy in a time of sadness was all that really mattered. 

So, I figured out how to do both- make my mom smile and keep my traditions. I wrote a note to Santa, wrote a note back, and filled my own damn stocking. Screw you Christmas bum-out, I'm having Christmas. I left the container to the carrot cake I had just eaten and glass of nog, pulled my Dad's dinner Yuengling bottle out of the trash, and left them for Santa.

And then I put the new Common CD I bought on the way up and a teddy bear I've had for years in my stocking, and left The Dark Knight DVD I brought to watch, a Converge shirt I bought online and had mailed to the house, and a thing of Legos I never put together last year on the fireplace and called it a night. Mom woke up, happily surprised to tears to see that Santa came anyway, and I got stuff I wanted from Santa: a Christmas miracle.

Breakfast was great (one of like 2 I had this year, featuring world famous Alexander scrambled eggs), and present opening was great (I didn't get much but my parents loved everything I got them). I qualified as having done "too much," there were lots of laughs, and only one brief crying session from Mom. But you need those sometimes. We watched the long awaited (at least for me) NBA season start with the Celtics, and even though they lost and the stupid Heat won, it was glorious to watch basketball again. I missed it. I went on my traditional Christmas walk-off-breakfast-and-make-room-for-a-full-turkey-dinner walk, and it snowed on me the whole time.

not much, but still a white Christmas

I listened to The Appleseed Cast (they'll always be a Christmas band to me after getting the Low Level Owl CDs for Christmas one year), and stood down by the water, just being alone with music and the lake in front of me. I reminisced about Jesse, my dog who I still miss every time I walk on that driveway. It was beautiful. 

Dinner was fantastic, and we watched sports into the night. It wasn't the Christmas I necessarily wanted or expected, but it was one my parents needed. And maybe it was what someone who was losing sight of what Christmas should be needed: a time for family and love. "Christmas day will always be, just as long as we have we."

obligatory "post-Christmas animal in wrapping paper" picture

I know it's a week later, but Merry Christmas to whoever reads this blog. Hope you had a good one.

currently listening to: The Smashing Pumpkins; "Starla" (a song I listen to every year to go to sleep on Christmas Eve)

Thanksgiving and family, or "I apparently forgot I had a blog for a month"

Yea blog vacations!?

It got cold. I didn't want to go outside a whole lot. I spent some time at home, I spent a lot of time relaxing and playing video games. I didn't feel like updating and didn't have much to update anyway. I got sick. I got better. I got sick again. I got bored. I got sad. I got happy. I decided there was nothing wrong with playing video games and enjoying my unemployment without having to prove something by going out and doing stuff all the time- my, how seasons change attitudes...

BUT, I'm coming back. I recently talked to a few people who I rarely talk to who are huge fans of the blog, and they yelled at me or at least gave me a "what the hell man?" It's nice to find out that people you don't know that well are honestly bothered when I don't contribute my endless pictures and babbling to the internet. Thanks guys, I really appreciate the love, and please call me on it when I pull my next disappearing act. 

But I'm back. I've recently made some music, have plans (and most importantly a place) to record A LOT of music good and bad, and art has actually been happening. Christmas busy-time is nearly over, and I am finally going to start on some of my projects that I've been putting off forever. So, things are looking up, there are more posts coming, and I'm hopeful for a the least hide-in-my-room-being-miserable winter in quite awhile. 

I guess I'll pick this up where I left off and blast through some stuff. The last post I was going to do before I fell off a cliff was Thanksgiving, so here you go, read about the last holiday 1 day before the current one. I went home to Maine, where it looked like this:

It was so weird leaving dry, snowless NH and driving an hour and 15 minutes north and suddenly there being 4-5 inches of snow on everything. But it was pretty. In fact, I'm in Maine now, and once again, there's snow here and none in NH. Wait- back to a month ago. I spent some time with the 'rents, mostly watching tv and relaxing. Thanksgiving dinner was fantastic. I don't know why anyone would bother eating anything other than turkey, mashed potatoes and stuffing. I only did the squash to make Mom happy. So good.

In true Alexander household form, we ate at our fancy dining room table, but with a tv at one end so we could watch football. Why be classy when there's football on tv?

I think my favorite thing about Thanksgiving (other than the food) is this retarded meth turkey I made in kindergarten (at least I hope its that old):

miserable monster

I love this turkey and I love that my mom, without fail, always digs it out and slaps it right in the middle of our fancy table. It's the ugliest and best centerpiece ever. Apparently that's what I thought turkeys looked like in 1st grade or whenever I made it. Poor thing.

I also went to Thanksgiving at my Grandmother's house, which I haven't done in something like 10 years. I saw most of the people there at a Thanksgiving luncheon thing like 5 years ago, but I hadn't been to the official Thanksgiving meal in 10 years. My Uncle's daughter (which makes her a cousin? -never understood that stuff) is like 11 now, and the last time I saw her, she was sleeping in her crib. Insane. "Hey complete stranger, we're related."

It was nice in a way to reconnect, but also incredibly awkward and uncomfortable. I got lots of sarcastic "what's it been, 10 years?"s and "hope to see you again sometime"s, but everyone there seemed genuinely happy to see me. It was kind of nice to share some laughs with people from my past, but it was more weird than anything. There wasn't a lot of catching up. It was more just small talk- like we were forced into a room together and were just trying to pass the time. The only questions I got were "where are you living now" and "are you looking for jobs yet?" My Uncle did support my vacation though, and said that he got to do the same thing when he was around my age, and it was amazing for him too.

But it was mostly just quietly uncomfortable and weird. I think, if I'm honest, I only went to make my Dad happy, and to prove that I didn't have to hide from them forever- that I wasn't just going to delete myself from my family.

A lot of people think it's weird that I have zero contact with anyone in my family other than my parents and brother (who I talk to like twice a year), but I think it's really pretty simple if you take the whole "family" label off of it- I have very little in common with these people other than the fact that we're related and I saw them 2-3 times a year while growing up. I didn't chose to see them, I was just carted off with my parents. And after the christmas presents, birthday cards (and parent-forced thank you letters) stopped and being away at college or working weekends in retail meant the visits died out, it wasn't hard to lose all contact. It just kind of happened. I guess the very fact that I'm talking about it means that I somewhat agree that it's odd, but at the same time, spending time with people you barely know twice a year just because you know them is pretty weird too. I don't know. I guess I'm just not that big on family- if you have little in common with a friend, do you continue to try to be friends with them just because you've known each other for a long time? Sure, you do for awhile, but eventually it stops, and if you only saw that friend 3 times a year, how long would it last? I never want it to sound like I don't like these people, it's just always been kind of weird to me how much we hold onto relationships because of the "family" label. 

But anyway, going there meant I got to explore some places I used to when I'd visit there as a kid- from the woods that divided grandma's property from the neighbors, to seeing the neighbor's dogs in their cages, remembering their first dog (that I loved and wanted so bad growing up- a beagle named Spike), to seeing the garbage washed up on the shore of Sandy Pond, to Sandy Pond itself, which I nabbed a beaaauutiful HDR shot of (and only really edited by turning the saturation):

to the creepy basement and it's tiny corner rooms of terrifying darkness, to the awesome TV set up in the living room:

life standing on death

to the Hoarder-esque upstairs that scared the crap out of me when I was a kid. 

Now that I'm an adult and watch TV shows about ghosts, I finally jumped right into the darkest part  of the upstairs that terrifed me the most, and yea, I can see why it scared me so much:

what better thing to have under a tiny light in the farthest corner of the darkness than a doll staring up at you with lifeless eyes?

I also got to check out this painting, which also, for no reason I can figure out, also terrified me as a child. I apparently was scared of this place a lot.

demon child stealing eggs

Back at home, I had an odd night of looking through my college yearbooks too. It's incredible how many people I had completely forgotten about. I only mention this because I also forgot that I made the graduation section. Here's a picture of a much younger, much skinnier, goateed me with a labret piercing, looking pissed/miserable with Kevin looking stoned behind me:

guess they didn't take a lot of pictures on graduation day

The other big thing I did at home was take pictures. All with my iphone of course (as the Instagram obsession continues- lifeofdirtymike- follow me!). So, here's some pretty pictures so I can have my return post be even longer and have even more pictures. 

At the end of my driveway on a walk:

The view from our living room window- Sebago Lake at its glassiest:

I love this shot- I grew up running along these rocks, and few things are prettier in winter than when snow collects on them (and you can catch a sunset).

I went down and took pretty much the same shot 40 minutes later:

For some reason, I really love this shot too- just the ugly grayness of it mixed with the texture from both poor light and a camera phone mixed with an instagram filter. I love the scuzz on the bottom of my Dad's long abandoned dingy boat and the leaf gunk against glassy water. 

currently listening to: Bad Santa on Comedy Central

Golf trip to Maine

Last week, I visited my parents and Maine house for the first time in 2 months. It was an awesome 3 days with pretty much perfect weather. I took lots of pictures, and pretty much every one of them was taken with my iphone, playing around with HDR. Good stuff. The drive there was beautiful, especially after 3 or 4 days of crappy rain:

I got home for the second half of the Patriots game, and this would be the first football I watched this year. Growing up, Sundays consisted of a house full of the sounds of football, and this tradition continues. It was nice to return to a world that hasn't changed much. Here's my house from the dock, in HDR glory:

Sebago Lake, on the rocks:

What's left of the dock that my dad just hasn't cared enough to bother putting in for the last few years (I can't blame him, it's a BITCH to do):

I really like this one even though the colors are impossible. I'm weirded out that the dock turned blue.

After the Patriots, we watched the Red Sox (probably my 3rd game of the season, the last ones being watched at home too) and ate a fantastic home-cooked meal of roasted chicken, stuffing and corn on the cob. It obviously ruled. 

Dad was able to get out of work early the next day, so I pretty much woke up, ate a granola bar, and was whisked away to Point Sebago for 9 holes of golf, which turned into 18. I didn't mind- usually I hurt too much after 9, but I am much stronger after doing so much this summer and swung a bit easier, so 18 felt great. It was a gorgeous day, and even though I still stick by the theory that golf is a good walk ruined, it was still a very fun day.

Mom in mid swing:

Ok, the sky wasn't actually this blue, but it wasn't far off. I love this hole, and actually played it better than I have in a loooooong time. I was actually putting for par (of course I blew it):

What a day.

It felt like summer, but fall was definitely beginning to show.

Dad in a sandtrap:

Fall:

We went out to dinner at an awesome local spot, then got ice cream from another awesome local spot, and we went home and exploded while watching the Red Sox again. 

The next day, I woke up with 1 goal: BUY SHOES. I have the worst shoes in the history of the world, and after buying nicer ones that I never really liked, and having the backs of them rip out and start digging into my ankles, I resorted back to the crappy shoes I only rode while mountain biking because I didn't care if they got covered in mud and destroyed. They became my everyday shoes, and they are absolutely horrible (but still comfortable). It was time to get some new ones, and there is a New Balance outlet store near my house, so, duh. I actually bought 2 and inherited a pair my Dad never loved (I don't either, but they're sure better than the crap I had before). Afterwards, my mom told me she had seen a Flea Market down the road. I told her we absolutely had to go. She agreed. 

It was scary going in- the outside looked terrifying and it had a separate "adult" building. There were weapons everywhere at the front and I started laughing immediately at the trashy ridiculousness of it, and the fact that this is what I do when I visit my Mom. But I was wrong about this place. With every aisle I walked past, I slowly came to the realization that this was the greatest flea market/pawn shop/crappy antique store in the history of the world. They had EVERYTHING. They had the most ridiculous, hideous, incredibly sketchy and weird stuff everywhere, some actual amazingly cool things, and it was actually neat and organized, and clean- like, not covered in sketchy filth like the place I visited at the beginning of the summer. 

Look at this dog table!!

Look at this Budweiser embossed grizzly bear beer stein!!

Look at this horrifying piece of art!!

The only bad thing about this place is that it's clearly run by lunatics who have never bought anything in their lives. The amounts they were charging for this garbage were incredible (that painting above is 9.50?), and would have been hilarious if I didn't want so much of it. If this stuff would have been reasonably priced, I would have left with everything there. For instance- the dog table? 75 bucks. The beer stein? 68. Yup. Instead, Mom bought me a brown ceramic duck with the top caved out, to put candy or dip or something. I called it "dipduck." It's awesome. 

see? awesome.

If you're ever in Oxford, Maine though- go to this place and plan to spend a lot of time in there laughing. It's called Undercover Flea Market, and it rules.

We drove home after a solid day, and I turned around and drove myself 10 miles back to where we had just come from, much to the confusion of my Mom. The new Blink-182 album had come out that day, and I guess some people just don't understand my weirdness when it comes to music. I thought it was perfect that Blink had been there at every important stage of my life and I grew up getting every album and largely listening to them driving to and from the house I grew up in, and here I was, in Maine, driving home to the house I grew up in, listening to a new Blink album 8 years after the last one came out. I'm supposed to buy it when I'm out shopping with my Mom? No, this required a special trip and very loud volumes. It was pretty awesome, and in perfect super-emo-mike-blasting-music-with-the-windows-down mode, I even pulled over next to the busiest stretch of road in Raymond, Maine to get an instagram of this beautiful sunset. And then I drove past my house to see it from the perfect spot I went to earlier in the summer. We then had some pizza and watched Red Sox game number 3 in a row. 

Here's the sunset I pulled over for:

The next day, I went golfing again. This time, it was just with Mom, which was a first. We went to Naples, and I tried to teach her some things to help her out and try to not get upset with her when she got upset for not being good (she's definitely a beginner) while I tried not to get mad at myself for not being a beginner but still sucking horribly, while she tried to ease my anger for thinking I'd be better than that... and we both just stunk anyway. 

She did surprisingly well though, hitting the best shots I've ever seen her hit. I'd like to think that my suggestions had something to do with that, but who knows- I got a 13 on a par 4 and threw my clubs several times that day, so any advice I gave was probably taken with more nervous smiling and nodding than actual consideration. 

We had a very fun time though, and ended up playing 18 instead of 9 again. We both had some great holes on the scorecard and if you caught us at the right time, we'd look like we knew what we were doing. 

A few of the holes are right next to the lake, which is pretty awesome, obviously

There was a monster face in the clouds

Look at this hole. It blows my mind how pretty it is, especially since most of the course doesn't come close to this:

signature hole like what

Here's Mom after sinking a solid putt to finish off the round. This was right before a fist pump, but it looks more like a "praise the lord!"- apparently that's how she does fist pumps.

When we got back, we had to drive across the road to get back to the clubouse, and they apparently completely forgot about us. So, we had to just leave the cart and walk back to our carts. It was definitely pretty weird. We met the person in charge right when we got to the carts, where lots of "OH MY GOD I'M SO SORRY"s happened, but not a lot of "here, have a free round on us next time"s. Oh well.

locked out!

I then decided to be extremely emo and use the guitar I had otherwise completely ignored for the whole trip. I decided to play Maine style, meaning I sat down on the dock staring at the lake and playing until it was too dark to see and too cold to move my fingers anymore. But I just sat down there, playing the notes I always seem to gravitate to when I'm staring at the lake. It was pretty perfect. We then ate pizza and watched the Red Sox for the 4th night in a row, which was the inevitable horror show of an end to a season that most people in Boston and probably very few who read this blog already knew about. I actually cared a little, just from watching for the last 4 nights, but oh well. At least basketball is coming up! oh wait...  

Here's a pretty awesome video I made in my never-ending quest to film as many different activities as possible with my GoPro. As always, it looks better on the vimeo page (and you can watch in HD), go there by clicking the link below the video: 

"GoPro Golf" from Mike Alexander on Vimeo

currently listening to: Green Day- 21st Century Breakdown