2002-01-25 - 7:15 p.m.

Yes, but is it the Congo?
-
Alright, well I'm sure you all missed me. Well, you can keep on missing me as far as I'm concerned. But I'll pop in here and there, try to keep things interesting.

I write to you from a new location this evening: my bedroom. That's right, my bedroom, all eight by twelve of it, which is now home to not only a bed, a nightstand and a bunch of clothes bins, but a bed, a nightstand, a bunch of clothes bins, a desk, a rolling chair and a futon-chair. And a little CD rack. And me.

How is this possible, you ask. By a simple feat of engineering which has allowed the bed to "float" over my head with the support of four sturdy cylinders of metal. I am metaphorically "lofted" further in the sky, to float into dreams through the city window that I always dreamed of as a child, looking down over a gritty, real city through a grimy city window.

It was Sesame Street that first taught me that cities can be beautiful, with all sorts of fun people around, a hardware store and restaurant you could walk to, a lovable green old homeless man that lives in a garbage can, it's okay, he's a grouch, but he'd never hurt you. And behind every wall there could be a Snuffalupagus just out of sight.

Yes, there is something I love about the idea of a city - a sense of the mysterious, the thrilling, the unknown to a little suburban kid who hadn't seen outside his backyard yet.

Go Patriots!