And so another Monday rolls around. Ideally, I start looking for apartments this week with the new guy (who's name I can't recall for some reason. That's not too good. I'll check....... Oh, that's funny. His name is Jeff. Well, maybe I'll refer to him as good Jeff, to differentiate him from the last jackass I lived with. Or maybe I should just call the old one Jackass Jeff). I suppose that means that I have to start calling some realty agencies and making appointments. Another entry on the old to-do list.

Just to recap some of this past weeks events: Went to a recreation of the Battle of the Potomoc at McGarick park in Greenpoint Brooklyn the last weekend in July. Another of those ineffably bewildering events brought to you by the Madagascar Institute. There are pictures somewhere online, but I can't find them anymore, which is kind of a disaster. In any case, a fairly good time was had by all - it mostly consisted of shopping carts all pimped out to represent the old ironside vessels of the Civil War era, and a bunch of people dressed in various costumes ramming them together. The (exquisite) soundtrack was provided by the Hungry Man Marching Band, what is probably the finest free-form marching band in existence today. Lots of tea and cookies, lots of water balloons, squirt guns, etc. I was pimping in my diver down swimming trunks and my dads Coast Guard Auxilliary life jacket (the way I figured it, recreations of naval battles are supposed to have Coast Guard observers. I thought that for a not-particularly-real recreation of this battle, I was the perfect not-particularly-a-member of the Coast Guard).

Then a week of work which, while not uneventful, I won't bore you with. And then this weekend. Went upstate to beautiful Friends Lake, to spend some time with Mom and Dad, and get some kneeboarding in. Learned a lesson on Saturday. I think I now believe that the best way to learn something is to accompany a lesson with a lot of pain. It may be cruel, but the student isn't likely to forget the what he or she is supposed to remember.

I grew up mainly in two places (bear with me here): The suburban wilds of Long Island during most of the year, and the Adirondacks for the summers. Upstate, I spent a lot of time with good friends of the family, the types of people who are just chock full of wisdom about various topics like building houses, tending a garden, the best way to skin a buck. Useful things like that. But, spending most of the year in what is pretty much a completely useless area (the only things that are actually produced on Long Island are Caramel Frappaccinos), I always felt that on some level, the adages that I was taught by my mentors from the North Country were metaphors for life, as opposed to specific bits of lore for particular situations. I mention all of this to introduce the bit of knowledge that I was told years ago, but only now truly understand: 'Before you knock over a woodpile, look to make sure you aren't kicking open a hornets nest.'

I mean, doesn't that one seem like it's a trope for some more basic fact about your behavior in life? Well, I suppose that it can operate on more than one level, but my problem is that I forgot the fundamental level at which it was generated. And that's why, since Saturday, I've been in a fairly profound amount of pain from the wasp attack that I instigated. Actually, it's not so bad now ('cept for the itching). And I suppose I did learn a lesson or two. And if, as I mentioned before, the best way to be taught is to be clobbered with the lesson plan, the things I learned I'm not going to soon forget.