| July 25, 1999 | Weekends With Jeff |
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I have heard more than a few strongly-worded complaints (from Paul, Hillary, Jeff, Sarah, Sooz, etc.) about my scarcity of e-mail communication and also my utter disregard for regularly updating this here web journal. Without further ado, I plead guilty. In my defense, I never promised that I would update this journal thing regularly. (And yes, I do keep all of my promises; I just don't usually make them unless I'm held at gunpoint.) What has my life been filled with in the past three weeks? Two weekend visits from Jeff. This weekend and the weekend of July 9-11 I was privileged to have Monsieur Dunlap stay over at my little chalet in Cambridge. During his first visit, we went out with Raj and Julie to the Hong Kong in Harvard Square where we drank some gross Polynesian drinks and Jeff announced, "Every day when I wake up, I feel like I'm 30." Julie and I immediately concurred that we feel the same way despite the fact that we all still have about 5 more years until that dreaded birthday. I guess we're just all high-anxiety freaks. We drove around Boston in Raj's SUV listening to the "Rushmore" soundtrack which is completely quirky and eclectic and fabulous. (The soundtrack was put together by former Devo member Mark Mothersbaugh, if this explains anything.) Jeff and I spent an entire Saturday afternoon wandering around Harvard Square, shopping, smoking, and drinking icey beverages at Au Bon Pain. Jeff encouraged me to buy a gray outfit with fascist military styling that he describes as "very Prada-esque." I pointed out that we could have had the exact same afternoon ten years earlier when we were in high school and came to Harvard Square together, except we wouldn't have been smoking or making Prada references. And of course, Harvard Square was better ten years ago before its unfortunate mallification. (I cannot believe they're putting up an Abercrombie and Fitch in the space where The Wursthaus and The Tasty used to be!) That night we rented the documentary "Kurt and Courtney." We both seemed to find this flick laden with too much propaganda and way too much focus on the filmmaker/interviewer (Nick Broomfield). It was more like a mockumentary than a serious documentary. On Sunday we went out to Ken's house in Northboro, and Ken and Jeff cooked a delicious Sunday brunch of pancakes and omelettes for Raj and me. During Jeff's second visit this past weekend, we watched my Aeon Flux tapes, we saw "Run Lola Run" which I enjoyed thoroughly, and we went with Julia to a party of Geoff's in Marblehead. At Geoff's party we watched a documentary of Burning Man '97 which renewed both my excitement and trepidation about the fact that Mindy and I will be attending the event next month. I like the idea of radical self-expression (in theory, at least I think I do), but I'm not so sure how well I will handle the radical self-reliance part. posted by Jess Barron @ 8:31 PM 
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| July 5, 1999 | Too Hot to Handle |
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It's more than 100 degrees in my apartment. Apparently the temperatures in Boston today have been hovering around 100, but the high humidity is making it feel like 104-110 degrees, or at least that's what the weather guy said. This may not sound like much oppression to people who live in areas like Texas, but it is really hot to all of the stubborn New Englanders who refuse to buy air conditioners. The last time I remember being this hot, was in July 1995 when I stayed in a dingy poorly-ventilated hotel in Greece's modern ruins with Mindy. Along with everyone else in the Boston-area, I was on Cape Cod for the holiday weekend. I went with Bocce and Damien to visit Damien's grandparents in Mashpee and then my dad in West Yarmouth. We spent most of our time at Damien's grandparents' house on Pompanesset Bay. We went out in their boat and swam in the ocean and got ourselves completely salty. Of course before even thinking about going outside to the pool or ocean we spent a half hour or more applying SPF 36 sunscreen to our entire bodies. While you might think we are just vain goths trying to maintain our delicate pallors, it turns a bit more serious than this. Since we were both extremely fair-skinned kids who summered on the Cape with our parents in the 1970s (before anyone worried about skin cancer), Damien and I both experienced more than a few blistering sunburns. Damien's dermatologist has already removed several moles on his back and stomach which looked as if they might turn all malignant. Hence, Damien is paranoid of sun. On Sunday morning as we headed out in the boat for the sandbar, protected by sunscreen, loose clothing and hats -- Damien said something that cracked me up. "The sun gives me mental pain," he said with utmost seriousness. posted by Jess Barron @ 6:26 PM
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