twenty-something

Today's text-messaged horoscope to this Cancer Verizon customer:

"Cutting your hair gets you noticed by a mate whose attention you wanted, but you may not get the response you hoped for."

Huh. And today, here I was, on my way to work, frusterated with the messy mop atop my noggin, finally frusterated enough to finally decide to get a haircut (and to scrap my Locks-of-Love plan)... Now I'm second guessing.

The horoscope is creepy because of it's timing. For much of my train ride this morning, I was actually annoyed because I won't have time to get a cut before tomorrow. And tomorrow, you see, I have a date... So perhaps I'll let my hair grow and flow for another week and for another date. Perhaps I'll stick to a trim before a certain friend and blog reader's wedding next weekend... And perhaps I'll get the desired reaction from whatever desired mate my horoscope sees in the stars for me.

It's now my eighth day of gainful employment. After only working two weeks since early June, it's been a bit of a transition. Getting up in the morning. Wearing khakis and button downs (and dress shoes, no Crocs or sneakers). Putting in 40+ hours. Falling asleep before seeing a single minute of Studio 60 (and me without a DVR). It's all taking some getting used to.

Now that I'm in my second week, I'm getting the hang of it again. I'm starting to feel like a real human, contributing to society. My social life is beginning to take shape, little by little, as I find myself with some energy at the end of the day to do something besides sleep. And, hey, I'm getting a paycheck on Friday!

But the best part so far is that I'm developing a routine. I haven't had a routine in many months. And I'm kind of loving mine.

Every morning I take the eight minute walk to the Savin Hill T. I usually have just missed an Alewife-bound train, and by mere moments. I then swear to myself and I wait for the next one. But the delay allows me to scope out the platform and find a handsome stranger to stand near. This is usually a hot straight boy in a Sox hat, or a well-put-together young professional who's bubble butt looks so good in his tight dress pants. But inevitably, there is some young man who I am drawn to, some smokin' Boston boy, and I will follow him onto the train and steal glances as we face further delays together on the Red Line towards Cambridge and I listen to Mat Kearney or Snow Patrol on my iPod.

Every day, two stops from mine, as I gaze at my new love, as I listen to melancholy music probably featured on Grey's Anatomy, the robot train announcer interrupts with the most ridiculous statement I have ever heard.

"Entering Andrew," he says.

And I giggle. Andrew is a T Stop. Andrew Square, I think. But the stop is simply called "Andrew" and that automated conductor simply says, "Entering Andrew." Ridiculous, to me, considering that Andrew is my favorite name in the world. It's the name of my high school "sweetheart" of sorts, and the name of this dude I dated and liked and messed things up with last fall. And while I've technically never entered an Andrew before, there have been many times when I have wanted to... and there are parts of me that hope that, maybe someday, I will. For now, I just smile on my daily commute and think, "how fucked up is that?"

The rest of the train ride usually will pass with nothing of note. We peak above ground for a moment and cross the Charles, and it's always, predictably, gorgeous. And then, before we descend back underground, I always think, "I live in Boston." This, in my own way, is a prayer of thanks.

Kendall comes -- if my handsome stranger is still there, or if I've found another to pine after, I give one last longing glance -- and I get off. I take the long way along the river, admiring the amazing view of the city from Cambridge on my ten minute walk to the office. Upon arrival, I usually get some coffee (as much as I've tried to resist, I think that I, like America, run on Dunkin) and hit the ground running.

Then I do the same thing, in reverse, sans coffee, on an Ashmont-bound train, about eight to ten hours later.

Sometimes the commute takes a half hour. Sometimes over an hour. But every day I fall in love with a handsome stranger. Every day I enter Andrew. And every day I'm a little more thankful for my brand new life.

I dig it. I *ahem* big dig it. (When in Rome...)

With my first week of work (and the satisfying premiere of Grey's Anatomy) behind me, I depart for Provincetown for the weekend. I haven't been to P-Town since '03, when my college roommate and I spent the week after graduation out on the Cape, so I'm fairly excited to return to this beautiful beach haven. Tomorrow's the first day of fall and I can't think of a better place to celebrate.

Boston feels good.

[Via ryanaceto.]

Here's how it works:
For some reason, Hollywood has decided that the story of your life MUST be told. Of course, all good movies need a soundtrack...

Open your music player (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, etc), or mp3 player. Put it on shuffle. Press play. For every question type the song that's playing. When you go to a new question press the next button (you can't skip more than once - no cheating!). See if your soundtrack will go platinum....or not.

Some odd, some spooky... some right on. Though personally, I'd like Guster's "One Man Wrecking Machine" as my opening credits.

Still, I think this is a hit.

After sending out my annual 9/11 Email to my friends and family on Monday, I was humbled by the flood to responses I got to it. Touched, even. I wasn't expecting (or, as it may have sounded, begging for) replies, but I got them, in droves, and it made me feel... well, special. As a boy from Vermont, I can't say that I was any more or less effected by the events of five years ago, but this time of year gets to me. It makes me want -- no, need -- to connect and reconnect, to give love and feel it. More so than Christmas, Thanksgiving, Valentine's Day... whatever. September is my reflective time.

I don't know why, but I feel compelled to share some of the more touching or humorous responses here.

"Wow. Let me start by saying that I am glad this was not a suicide note. In fact, it was very sweet..."

"Hey Patrick, Thanks for the email. I found myself frustrated yesterday with the focus on the destruction that happened five years ago...it kind of put me in a weird mood. Thank you for bringing my focus back to the good that has come from the tragedy, the family and friends that we hold dear and the realization that we need to live authentically and in the moment. No Day But Today!"

"I love you sooo much!!! You mean the world to me. Thank you for holding me at the one time in my life that I thought I would fall. Be forever optimistic and please find true love so that you are truly happy!!! Love of my life from day one, June 28,1980. --Mom"

"Thank you for your email yesterday. Yesterday was a strange and powerful day. Though I did not make it down to the WTC, I was, at night, able to see the monumental lights shine throughout the night. I don't know that I have ever seen something so powerful. You could tell throughout the day the somber mood. Everyone was, again, closer to one another..."

"I was so moved by this e-mail and humbled to receive it... There are so few things in my life that I look back upon and wish I had done something differently - getting to know you better is one of those few things..."

"Hello friend, This e-mail reminds me of why you are so special to me. Thanks for sharing this. Hey I also thought of you recently for another reason. I just got the new West Elm catalog and spent time thinking about all of the things that I want to get "one day when I win the lottery"..."

"You should write a book, your writing even in just this email is amazing. I had to hold back tears cause I am at work. I hope life is treating you well, I love you so much!"

"That was a really nice email, it must have been really surreal being at ground zero this weekend. I stumbled upon your blog a few months ago. I saw a thing on the news about how people don't realize there are crazy pictures of them on the web and then when they go to interview for a job their perspective hirer googles them and finds the pictures. I was trying to think of anyone who might have a crazy picture of me and I thought of the Catalina picture (though let's be honest, if someone saw that they would definitely hire me). I googled you and the blog came up. Every time you mention Yelli, I get excited because I know her and I feel like she's a celebrity..."

"Aw shucks, you made me blush. But thank you :-)."

"You're AMAZING and I love that song as it is powerful! Thanks to you for being an important part of our lives at 53 Bartlett Street as well! I am so happy about your move here and look forward to seeing you in the near future!"

"That's beautiful Pat. I had tears in my eyes reading it and tears thinking of you guys being there yesterday for that. Very powerful & moving I'm sure. Thanks for making me stop and think..."