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Letters from New England Pt. 01

By: MissBri



June 24, 2006

Dearest pervs,

I've been in New Hampshire for a few days now, and I thought that it would be a good idea for me to document all of the things that are making me so happy right now, by sharing them with you.

The bus trip out from Iowa was amazingly tolerable despite its length of forty-one hours. I took Benadryl or nighttime painkillers every so often, depending on whether my back was acting up or I just wanted to sleep. Much of the trip, I had two seats to myself thanks to a bit of luck and the fact that I can look somewhat intimidating if you don't know me. On the way to Boston, it occurred to me that I could spend a night at my mum's place if she had the room. We hadn't seen each other in close to four years – and, although she drives me insane in large doses, we get along fabulously most of the time. Then I realised that carrying around four bags that must have weighed a total of at least a hundred pounds would suck, particularly riding the subway to its farthest point. So I called off the freshly made plans with my mum, telling her that I'd head back down to the city soon. When I then went to board the final bus to Nashua, I discovered that they had temporarily misplaced my bags and I wouldn't be able to get them until the next bus, a day later. Rather than going all the way up to New Hampshire just then, I took all of it as a sign. Without the heaviest two of my four bags, why the hell wasn't I spending the night hanging out with my mother?

So I got ahold of everyone a final time and headed to Harvard Square to watch people for a while and see if I would be lucky enough to spot someone I knew and missed. No dice, though I did eavesdrop on the conversation of a wicked cute girl who sat next to me with her friends. She had a yummy shaved head and I just kept wanting to pet her. I don't remember the Store 24 being gone the last time I was down in Cambridge, which is weird. One of the old bums who used to spare change in front of the Store 24 told me that it closed six or seven years ago and he still misses it too sometimes. The folks who worked there, especially back when it was staffed almost entirely with punk rockers, were always sweet. They never bitched if you had to pay all in nickels for a sandwich or a pack of cigarettes, and they didn't mind if you puttered around for half an hour, warming up while you made Ramen noodles in a travel mug using hot water from the coffee machine. It was just one of those things from when I was younger, dumber and so damn adventuresome that it makes my head spin when I think about it now. I just can't believe that it's gone, though its loss is nothing compared to when the Rat closed right after I went out to San Francisco that one time.

Anyway, it was hot as hell outside that afternoon. I could even feel myself burning in the shade. I ended up going to CVS for an iced tea once I realized that Store 24 was no longer. I sat down to drink it while a security guard from the bank glared at me.

I remember the subway being slower... I was thinking it would take about an hour to ride from Cambridge all the way down to Braintree but it ended up only being about forty minutes. I was early, so I sat, read and smoked cigarettes on a bench at the taxi stand while I waited for my little sister and her boyfriend to show up.

It took me a few minutes to recognize my sister when they arrived – she's eighteen now and was only thirteen when I got married. I hadn't seen her since then. She has apparently begun to realise that the entire world does not revolve around her, which is nice. I'm hopeful that, when I move down to Boston, she'll actually let me be her big sister for once.

Her boyfriend seems like an incredibly sweet kid. He was quiet at first, seems a bit shy... But he had no problem going out of his way to bring sis to pick me up at the train station. As I told him, my first thought when my mum started telling me about him two years ago was that he must be a very patient fella to be dating my sister. I still think so, especially because he's lasted so long. By now, I'm sure he's seen every side of her. I just hope she's got more good days than bad now, as she used to be a right cunt ninety percent of the time.

Mum got some beer and my stepdad cooked steaks on the grill for all of us. We had a nice time playing catch up and getting to know one another again. Leah and Bob, my sister and her beau, took of pretty early, but they were cool with bringing me to the bus station in the morning so I knew I'd see them again soon.

I got to take my first shower in over a month, after all I'd had available to me was baths. To say that shower was nice would be a gigantic understatement. Mum had all kinds of girly bath stuff as usual, so I emerged from the bathroom foofily soft and scented, with the sweaty clothes from my journey in the washer and on their way to clean.

The kids showed up late the next morning and Bob announced that he had no plans for the afternoon, so he'd be happy to drive me straight up to New Hampshire after we stopped to pick up my wayward luggage. As if I'd say no to a chance to avoid riding the bus after having spent nearly two weeks on them in as many months. We stopped so Leah could grab something from her apartment and I got the nickel tour. Then we were off. I'd called ahead, so my bags were actually waiting for me when we got to South Station. The ride up was quick and easy, and we stopped on the way so I could get my first proper Dunkin' Donuts coffee in years. It was fabulous! In my absence they even started offering all kinds of flavour shots. When did they go and get all fancy?

We got to Nashua a little too early for Lizzy to pick me up, as she was working. Found a place for mum to pick up cheap cigarettes and picked a random pizza place to hunker down and have lunch while we waited. Of course, as my luck would have it, Lizzy showed up just as the pizza arrived. I ran outside to give her a hug and transfer my bags from Bob's trunk into the bed of her truck, and she shooed me back inside for a minute so I could say a proper goodbye. A few minutes later, armed with cheese pizza and two of Lizzy's clients, we made a run to drop them off before heading out to the big house in the woods.

This place is amazingly well suited to Lizzy... She's always been a big ol' hippy at heart, and here she has plenty of space to grow things. She has a lovely garden full of veggies; we've been picking baby spinach and chives, so I can attest to her prowess with the organic vegetables. There are also several flower gardens, lots of what I believe are wildflowers, and a lot of clover that grows by where the horses live. There are acres of land for the dogs to run around, along with the one kitty who is allowed outside. And then there are the horses. Being a city girl by nature, I'm not used to their massive size. They're Belgian draft horses, and I was amazed when Lizzy told me that they're still babies. They're easily eight feet tall already – I have no idea how big they'll be when fully grown. I hang out with them sometimes, feeding them handfuls of clover and petting their massive noses.

My first night out here was fantastic. We sat around drinking beer just like old times, on the porch with a fire blazing in the nearby pit to keep most of the bugs away. We grilled veggie burgers and Lizzy fried vegetables over that same fire, and then we ended the evening by toasting with champagne in Mason jars. What a delightful welcome back to the east coast! New Hampshire may not exactly be home, but it's close.

My bedroom is lovely as well. I have three big windows, two of which are in the corner where I've set up the desk on which sits my loaner typewriter. In the morning and most afternoons, sun filters in gloriously. At night, there are so many stars in the sky – they give new meaning to the term 'picture window'.

The hour grows late and I'm not as much of a night owl out here as I was not so long ago. I miss you all to bits and will write more soon...

Love n' snuggles,

Jett



Letters from New England Pt. 02



July 20, 2006

Dear friends,

I have now been in New Hampshire for exactly a month and I miss you all dearly. I had planned to write much more often, but you know how things go. Around the time of my last letter, my grandfather passed away. He had been sick for years with cancer and Parkinson’s, among other ailments – so it wasn’t a huge shock when I got the call from my aunt. She was a mess, we were both flat broke and hours north of where Papa was being kept as comfortable as possible until his time came. He was still lucid and stubborn when the cancer was found, but because he was old and already sick he refused to let the doctors perform a biopsy. His request request was merely to be kept out of as much pain as possible until he died, and that request was honoured by all.

My Papa and I always got along amazingly well; even when I was a baby, he would take me ever chance he got and delight in the faces I would make when he gave me bits of sweet or tart fruits to taste. In later years, as I traveled and he got sicker, we never saw each other very often. Still, when I did make it back to where he lived, he was always ecstatic to see me. More recently, my mother told me that he asked for me even when he couldn’t remember all of his own children.

I was torn when I heard that a nurse had called and told my aunt that we needed to go down and see him immediately if we wanted to say goodbye; it hurt that I hadn’t seen him since my wedding four years ago and I missed him dreadfully, but if he was really so close to death, it seemed somehow wrong to go see him. If I thought that he would know who I was or I could have somehow eased his suffering, I would have gone down in a heartbeat. I spent the rest of that evening drinking wine, crying and trying to figure out if I could even make my way down to be with my family. 

In the morning, I decided that I would call and ask to speak with him. There had been close calls in the past, so I knew it was possible that he would improve. The nurse paused when I inquired as to how bad he was, whether it would be possible to speak with him. Then she told me that he had already passed that morning. One of my aunts was with him, and a cousin – but I called my mum and even she hadn’t heard anything.

I was in a bit of shock, and I called Lizzy to let her know that I no longer had any need of a ride down to Massachusetts. For hours, I could do nothing but cry. When Lizzy came home from work, she called me into the house from where I’d been chain smoking on the back porch.

At first, I couldn’t make out the tiny black bundle of fur cradled in her arms. Her dress was black, too. Then she held him forward and I sort of stared blankly at the wee kitten she’d brought home. She loosed a flood of words, explaining how she thought a new baby to hang out with would help because she could tell from the message I’d left her that I was a mess. She told me how it had taken several men climbing around the farm stand’s barn to capture the little bugger, and she would take care of him if I didn’t want him for my own.

I cried again, holding the little one to my chest and feeling the nervous thumping of his heart as dogs and cats alike tried to say their hellos. I decided to name him Clifford, after my Papa. And then, as if to show us that he was every bit as headstrong as the old man had been, he showed his distaste of the situation by throwing a fit and clawing the hell out of Lizzy’s arm.

We managed to get little Cliff into a carrier and up to my room, where he spent several days hiding under various pieces of furniture. I was concerned when he hadn’t used the litter box by the second day; he had been sneaking out of his hidey holes when I was sleeping or not in the room and I could see that he was eating and drinking. When he did start using his box, I was as proud as any kitty mama can be when her little ones are smart enough to figure out the right thing to do.

Cliff has slowly made progress. After he’d been here almost a week, I coaxed him out of his hangout under my dresser and plopped him down in a nest I’d made on the bed. He tried to get away but started purring and makin’ biscuits on the comforter almost immediately. Now he sleeps curled up with me most nights and likes to nap on my feet when I’m sitting at the typewriter. Mercifully, he also continues to use his litter box. My attempts to integrate him into the rest of the household haven’t gone so well… He still hides from Lizzy, and becomes very indignant when I let one of the other critters hang out so they can get used to one another. Lizzy’s pit bull is a sweet li’l thing and one of her new favourite pastimes is to lie with her head under my bed, staring at Cliff and wagging her tail. I’m sure they’ll be friends someday, but for now Cliff only seems to want to be buddies with me. As far as we know, he’s still only about three months old.

My other kitty babies remain in New Mexico. One of them snuck into the neighbour’s apartment, causing her to have an allergic reaction that ended with the cats being evicted by the landlady. Luckily for me and them, my mother is a sweetheart and is keeping my kids at her house while she waits for an open spot at a place where furry babies are kept until they can find new homes; new parents are screened before they can take home a new pet. I wish I could get them out here, but that doesn’t seem to be much of a possibility; I simply don’t have the funds to get them and I’d worry to much about their safety, living in the woods next to fishers and other hostile nighttime critters. They’re city cats and don’t have much common sense; one of them delights in playing in traffic and has nearly given me several heart attacks.

It’s been one hell of a year of loss, and I hope that things start looking up soon for everyone I care about. I’m tired of being sad for myself and others when all I want to do is rejoice for all of us. Then again, I know how much that is to ask. Maybe just a little while that holds more happy endings and beginnings than ones full of sorrow?

Although I do get lonely out here sometimes, having free long distance on my cell at night and on weekends helps. I get to talk with some of you on occasion, and I hope that I’m not wholly depressing when I do.

The near future holds some excitement for me. In five days, Lizzy and I will be going to the Buccaneer Bash – or, as we affectionately refer to it, the Pirate Booze Cruise. It’s being orchestrated by a local radio station and we each won a pair of tickets, so we’re going and bringing along two of her friends. After we went to see the new Pirates of the Caribbean movie last weekend, I am hellbent on being the cutest drag king pirate on the boat. While I’m not generally very vain, I think I’ll do a good job – and I’m looking forward to having an excuse to suggest to the sweet pirate lasses that they swash my buckle. Living out in the woods certainly helps one appreciate life’s smaller pleasures.

Lizzy and I are getting very excited about our trip to New York city to hang out with a handful of you lovely pervs, and the anticipation grows daily. Just three weeks now until that happens, and I’m even more ecstatic because of someone who has only hinted that she may be in attendance. I won’t jinx myself or embarrass her by spilling any details, but I will say that my heart jumps into my throat at the mere thought of meeting her.

Sometime in the very near future, I may also be visiting Maryland for my first paid, live session with a phone client. Worry not – big sis Jammies had made me promise to be careful. It’s exciting in a nervous sort of way, and that is compounded by the fact that, while he’s not looking for a prostitute like some men who call me, his fantasy is a bit on the peculiar side. I’ve heard stranger, but the scenario is certainly unique. Wish me luck!

Since defaulting back to a vegetarian diet when I got here, I’ve lost more than ten pounds without trying… This has inspired me to actually make an effort to lose more so I can feel better about myself and just generally be healthier. It’s working so far, though I’m clearly still not quite ready to give up smoking. (Sis, I can hear you clucking from here!)

I hope you all are well and miss you immensely.

Licks and snuggles,
Jett