Hmmmm

A friend is here to visit. By here I mean in town. A bit of a surprise. I worked for his Aunt out in Boston when I was a bit younger, a bit easier on the eyes. He specifically asked me not to tell certain friends I was visiting because he didn't want any feelings hurt, but he already hurt those friends, so I don't think I'd have mentioned it even if he hadn't asked. I have known him since I was young and pretty (or at least less battered) and since he was a child. He was 12 when we first met. He is someone I have risked everything for, including going into a party in Boston with a baseball bat to bring him out of. How he hated me, until he discovered who and what those people were capable of.

I smell pretty rancid right now. I haven't had the energy to shower in some time. I take baths when ever I can, but you just don't get as clean with a bath. Especially when you have to extend your legs out one end up to the bent knees with your buttocks against that wall of the tub in order to dunk your head beneath the surface and wash your hair. Call my filthy if you must. Water from a shower nozzle actually causes pain, and I lack the energy to stand that long while being inflicted by such pain. So instead it is baths. Baths and "Old Spice" hahaha.

I am getting ready to watch the movie that was originally titled "Pirate Radio" which I am greatly looking forward to. Drinking a Pepsi. My friend Paul wants me to switch to Jones' Apple something. He thinks sugar and caffeine are bad for me. I Love them. As I sit here I am listening to Josh Ritter's The Animal Years.

I am developing a group of middle aged pipe and cigar smoking men on Youtube who follow my videos avidly and comment often. I am not sure if this is more because I am 25, because I don't wear a shirt in a lot of them, or if its the music which ranges from Pearl Jam to The Kingston Trio? Perhaps its just because I am a fellow pipe smoker and age doesn't matter. Have I grown cynical?

I was watching The History Boys Yesterday and couldn't help but wonder if the reason I thought about NOT becoming a History teacher was my fear of becoming like Hector? Not fat, never fat, but old, alone, in a loveless marriage, fondling high school students riding on the back of my old English motorcycle - he rode a Velecette by the way, a LOVELY machine. I don't think I would EVER lay a finger on a student. But I wonder how happy I could be in a job where I was surrounded by temptation of good looking guys approaching adulthood? Still, I feel I would make an excellent teacher, and I am strong willed, and each year I am out of high school the students seem younger and younger, so I believe by the time I am healthy enough to get my degree I should be well out of danger.