Month: January 2003

This morning I got up at 6:30 and, after a little wait, drove to Lexington, where I stripped down to my swimsuit and a 10th Planet t-shirt, then jumped in an outdoor pool.

I yelled on the way in, and then got out, because it was very cold. There were still pieces of ice floating in it. I felt like I was getting out pretty quickly, but on the version in my aunt’s camcorder, I’m moving roughly as fast as you’d expect someone to move when his lower spinal functions have just shut down.

My uncle Cliff, meanwhile, moved like a man possessed. By speed. This is most likely because he went in with Cole and Clint, my eight- and nine-year-old (I think) cousins, and had getting them out of the water as his chief concern. He used to play football, and can still put an impressive spiral on a smallish human being.

It was wonderful. Also, painful. I wish I had another year at college now, just so I could make all my friends go back with me next time.

I’m living in a small apartment with some of my best friends, apprenticed in a trade I find fascinating, dating an amazing girl, working with a dream cast on a play that really excites me and playing in one of my favorite bands. It occurs to me that these are probably the best days of my life.