drunkAbout the same time I looked at my cell phone, and saw that I had a voicemail. I checked it, and it was Ryan, informing me that he had an extra ticket to see Dashboard Confessional in New York City that night. I left messages on his cell and his home phone, but got nothing. By the time I finally reached him, he was at the Jamaica train station, so that was no longer a viable option. The comes on the heels of another concert near-miss, so to speak. In the final few weeks prior to our return to home port, I had decided that I wanted to see the Dave Matthews Band live in the near future. Well, as it turns out, my brother saw both DMB and Béla Fleck on Randalls Island the Saturday before last - the night before we pulled in. D'OH!! I was so fucking jealous of him. I became even more jealous when he related to me last night just how awesome the show was.
I went downtown, took some pictures, and then got some dinner. Then I went out. I feel almost compelled to go out and do something whenever I'm on Long Island, even if I'm heading out there all by myself. I figure that if I'm just going to sit in my room - whether or not the consumption of alcohol is involved - I can do that here in Connecticut, and save a bunch on gas money. So I headed over to my brother's apartment in Kings Park, and found him utterly stunned to see me. Apparently Vanessa had neglected to inform John of my visit. He burned me a couple of DMB CD's, along with the Eric Clapton Unplugged disc. After that, I headed to Bay Shore and caught Peat Moss & the Fertilizers. I only stayed for 1½ of their sets; by 0145, twenty-six and a half hours without sleep had finally caught up to me. I returned home and promptly collapsed.
Just after I got up, I realized that I really didn't have anything to do at home that couldn't be done next weekend or over leave, so I made an early exit. On my way out, I took more pictures at a few different locations in Northport; had a long-overdue White Castle lunch; and went book-hunting at Borders in Commack. Not finding the one book I sought, I departed for Groton. Just before arriving at the base, I stopped at the Borders in Waterford, and found the book I wanted. What book, you may ask, was it? John Stossel's latest, Myths, Lies, and Downright Stupidity. I haven't delved into it yet, but I have high expectations. I also bought Malcolm Gladwell's The Tipping Point, which I read last year just before reporting to Memphis. Then I returned to the base, where I picked up beer and Pringles, two of necessities of life. I then made another excursion to take photos. And now I'm chilling in the barracks, watching The Terminal, and writing for your benefit.
I got another voicemail this evening about the decision on housing. The opinion seems to be running in the direction of the place in North Stonington, and I tend to agree. The advantages are big, and the disadvantages are small.
A big day is ahead tomorrow...I'll talk about it tomorrow night. :--)