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2001-07-03 - 11:01 p.m.

Northeast Odyssey: Sailing away

JULY 3, SOUTH BOSTON

South Boston� Boston � Hull.

I woke up this morning sad and lost and went running along the beach here, along the harbor, the Dorchester Bay section of Boston Harbor. I ran past an old bath house that's now a fitness center, past the Boston Harbor Yacht Club and Columbia Yacht Club down to a park along the water where I could look out across a cove in the harbor and see the cranes of a shipyard in the distance, and the jets taking off from Logan popping up behind them and turning out over the water. I stood and watched for a little while, then ran back to K Street and walked up to East Seventh and into the house. I went and bought a donut for breakfast and a quart of milk, since I hadn�t had any since leaving Nantucket.

We didn�t have specific plans for the day. Bryan was working until 2 p.m., when I�d pick him up and we�d go somewhere. Tomorrow we're hoping to go sailing on his dad's boat with his parents, brother and brother's girlfriend -- if the rain holds off. Then I'll drive home to NJ Thursday morning and go to work that night.

But I'm not sure I want to be here. I'm not sure I want to be home, either. I don't know where I want to be. Part of me would like to be home, relaxing a little before I have to go back to work. Part of me wants to be here to party on the Fourth, because the alternative, if I'm home, is a barbecue at a friend's house with some long-time high school friends who now live in places like New Orleans and Florida and I don't see much. That would be fine, but the problem is I think the high school ex and perhaps her boyfriend (the one she dumped me for seven years ago and I've never met) will be there, as well as another girl I'm not keen on seeing. I feel stupid for thinking these things, but I guess that's what's keeping me away. I wish they'd just get engaged and married and move away already (well, they already live in NYC) or whatever it is that will stop making me think about it.

Turns out that because of tomorrow�s unfavorable weather forecast, we�re sailing today. Just before 2, I walk down to the Xterra and drive into Boston to pick up Bryan. I go past his building the first time and then, because of the non-parallel one-way streets, I take 10 minutes to make my way back. I�m never really lost, knowing the whole time which direction I need to go and how far I need to go. He walks out about 2:30, we stop back at the house because it turns out he forgot something, and then, with Josh the ND student spending the summer in Boston and staying with Bryan with us, we head out for Hull.

It�s my third time on the boat, and Lynne, Bill and Patrick are already out there when we arrive. They unhook from the mooring and start up the motor and we make our way out of the marina and into the channel. Once we hit open water, the sails go up and we zigzag around the harbor for a few hours before the rain begins.

Naturally, once we return to the marina, the rain stops. The six of us go to a nearby pizza place for dinner, ordering three pies, including one with cheese ravioli and diced meatballs for toppings.

Patrick returns to Boston with us to go out, and I take a shower. We sit on the couch watching Random Hearts on HBO trying to determine if it�s a chick flick and admitting which chick flicks we�re fond of (I liked Sleepless In Seattle). But that�s all just to kill time until 10 p.m., when the first episode of the new Real World comes on. We watch the show for 45 minutes before losing interest, because there�s really nothing real about the damn show anyway. It�s easy to see how the roommates were prompted to speak about what they�re shown discussing, and it does not surprise us when a black-white racial issue comes up about halfway through the episode.

But it�s all just fun and entertainment anyway, so there�s no need to dissect it, really.

At 11 we go to the Boston Beer Garden on East Broadway in Southie and push our way to the bar for drinks. The four of us stand there for a while talking. Josh challenges us to find one other guy in the bar with curly hair, and we all fail. When the place clears out a little, we take a table near the front, where the folding window doors have been closed for the night. At a table near the street, a young woman sits alone, looking decidedly depressed and lonely. Josh walks over to her to see if she�s interested in sitting with us, and Patrick and Bryan � who are facing her table; my back is to the street and I do not want to turn around and stare while Josh talks with her � immediately begin laughing. After Josh opened his mouth, she presented her left hand, using the engagement ring as a visual aid while she explained that her fianc� would be returning shortly.

Josh comes back laughing and we sit there until the lights flash for last call at 12:40 a.m.

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