magicbeans. nothing if not awkward.

Family picnic in Greenwich. All but two members of my mom's generation, including a cousin who she hadn't seen in over twenty years, who studied architecture at RISD in the 60s. Some of their spouses. Only a smattering of my generation. But it was more fun to hear the stories and reminiscences of my mom, her siblings, and cousins growing up anyway. They make for a pretty interesting family, and it's too bad they don't all get together more often.

On the train out of the city, I wanted nothing to do with nature. 'Give me antiseptic, 60s sci-fi fantasy,' I thought to myself. It was in that same sort of altered train-consciousness that I've had pretty much every time I've been on the Metro-North since this whole New York thing started to germinate. Just manifesting in a slightly different desire. I feel like this might be the basis for a story: the unreality of the train as comfort zone, the train ride sparking a Buddhist-like desire for dissolution into the patina of the world, and for a life totally free of that patina.

I spent most of the train ride back asleep.