Tale of Two Summers

Week 1 08:54 P.M.MONDAY 07.10.06So, right off the bat, I have to say that this whole blog thing you've set up is totally gay. Now, I know that being gay and all I really shouldn't use "gay" in such a derogatory way, but what can I say? Writing blogs is so damn GAY I can't even discuss it. But this was your idea and you're supposedly straight, which makes the whole thing somewhat disturbing, actually: that straight-old-you could come up with such a gay-old-idea for keeping in touch over the course of the summer. But I guess there's no accounting for sexuality or something. And I know I agreed to do this when we talked and everything, but still, I just have to let you know my true thoughts on this matter before going any further with this gay exercise in futility. I just don't see why simple e-mail would not suffice. I mean, people have been using that since the beginning of time (or the beginning of the Internet -- same difference) as a decent mode of effective, semi-instant communication. So I don't know why you're so set on this Xanga.com, blogosphere thing. And why, good God, did you have to go and title the thing "Tale of Two Summers''? I mean, you make it sound like some friggin' Judy Blume novel! Now, I know your whole rationale for this is that e-mails are disposable and deletable and you want to have a record of our big summer apart so that when we're 30 we can look back on it and be like, man, what a couple of losers we were back in the teenage day. But believe me, I will not be longing to look back and see what a pair of idiots we were for saving an online record of our every little thought and meaningless activity, especially when, on my end at least, there is really not gonna be much to report. Except, of course, my farting. Wait a sec -- I feel one coming...[FART]. Ah, much better. Regardless -- here is my first entry. Are you happy yet? I'm not. It's Monday night and it's been a crummy first day of you not being here in crappy old Wheaton, Maryland. If there is any place more boring on earth to spend a sweltering summer by my goddamn self, I can't think of one. And you know what? If I could think of a place that was more stultifying, I might even go there just for a change of scenery, because, after almost 16 years, the sheer deadliness of our little 'burb is really starting to bug me out. Then, on top of that, toss into the mix the fact that I had my first day back at good ol' Einstein H.S. for day one of "Driving Instruction and Road Safety Training" (formerly known as "Driver's Ed"; see "20th century"), and I am clearly about ready to lose it. I said it to you yesterday in your driveway and I will say it again: You are the luckiest damn dog to go hang out at the University of Maryland for the balance of the summer and learn your craft as an actor/singer/waiter. I only wish I had some ounce of talent to join you, but, as we all know, my only talent worth mentioning (i.e., farting) is, uh, not worth mentioning.Badump-chik!Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.... I'm here all summer. That's right, ALL SUMMER! OK -- enough bitching. I can already see you shaking your head at my misanthropic missive. Still, being stuck here all alone for the next six weeks is a major drag, especially given the fact that you're not really that far away, even, just a few miles around the old Beltway. You know, I still don't see why I can't just come visit for an afternoon or hang out with you after dinner or something. What is up with UMD's severe anti-guest policy? They act like I'm gonna contaminate the whole batch of you with my lack-of-talent and cause an uncontrollable outbreak of averageness or something. But I digress.... So I guess I'll get to the business at hand, which is "keeping in touch." Christ -- now I've lost my train of thought. This is why the occasional phone call would be easier!!! They must have a few pay phSloan, Brian is the author of 'Tale of Two Summers', published 2006 under ISBN 9780689874390 and ISBN 0689874391.