DA COOKIE JAR

          On the morning of Oppression Day, Jennifer and I woke up with real hangovers. I cooked some ramen to help with hers, the worse of the two, and then smoked, drank coffee and decorated busily. She took off eventually, along with Alaric and Nathan's houseguests, and I kept plugging away at housework. I called my mother eventually, and we chatted about everything from Halloween plans, to work/volunteering, to the Rangers going 3-0. (DAE 82-0?) Alaric and I walked to Penguin Pizza to grab some food, and then to Iris's, where we sat down to pack a bowl, ate some apples, and receive a large "street sign" that reads "DA COOKIE JAR," courtesy of the previous tenant in Shandana's apartment. After talking to all three roommates for a time, Alaric and I left to smoke at McLaughlin Park. We sat on the steps near the basketball court. When you're in this park, it feels solitary, like you're a mile from everything around it. Alaric told me about a new eight-man broomball format using the entire ice surface, which does sound sweet. I gazed at a radio tower in the distance for a while, remembering the ones I could see from my grandfather's house in western New York. I always forgot about them until I went back there, how those red lights would pulse slowly and coldly. They reminded me that I was far from home, like a second moon for a space traveler.