June 23, 2001


Provincetown at dusk

Saturday June 23. 2001
an on display collab : a letter to your younger self

the important things you know already

Dear Bethany:

This is you from the future. Not from the far future, just about a week into the future. Maybe a little more. At any rate, it's June 23rd, and I just got back from vacation at Cape Cod. The vacation you've been looking forward for more than a year. I just hauled my very heavy bags all the way from the bus terminal. I had to wait an eternity for the 22 bus to show up at Olney. I just downloaded 105 emails, only 3 of which were personally addressed to me. And I'm feeling rather depressed and lonely and missing John and finally coming to the realization that my vacation is over, it's Saturday night and I really have no life.

But if I know you like I think I do, you know this already. So I won't dwell on it.

I'm not going to tell you everything that's going to happen this week. I'll let you discover and enjoy most of it for yourself. But I will tell you that you will have the time of your life in the coming week. Cape Cod will be beautiful. You will take tons of pictures. You will nearly eat yourself into oblivion.

But before I close, a few things, first. Call them words of warning, or merely a heads up.

The Long Island Expressway is under construction and very annoying. It will be so foggy you won't be able to see a thing off the Throgs Neck bridge. 95 will be mostly boring, but New Haven and Providence will be pretty to drive through.

Don't put your metal CD case next to your laptop in your bag. It's going to scatch the top of the laptop and you're going to be pretty upset about it.

You will eat nearly two pounds of fudge this week. It will be sinfully delicious.

When you go to Provincetown on Sunday, make sure you get a good picture of that blonde drag queen. You won't regret it.

Buy gay pride bumper stickers. Make sure you get one for your homophobic little sister, too.

Put sunscreen on your face before you go out. You're going get fried and your nose will peel if you don't. And make sure John puts some on his arms, otherwise he's going to be in pain later on.

Get the fried clams at Arnold's. More than once if you can. They are so good.

You're going to get a little seasick on the whale watch on Tuesday. Nothing too bad, you won't toss your cookies all over that cute marine biologist, but it will leave you feeling a little green. But not bad enough to prevent you from consuming an enormous meal of shellfish algarve later that night.

You're going to be drenched on the whale watch. It will be cold. I'm just warning you...

Make sure the latch on the bathroom stall door is firmly closed, otherwise that old lady will walk in on you.

You will eat tons of delicious seafood. Oysters, clams, scallops, swordfish. You will sometimes eat too much. Enjoy it while it lasts. The stale froot loops I'm eating right now just don't compare.

An angry lesbian on a bike will nearly run you over on Thursday while you're in Provincetown. Before you cross Commercial Street to go to the Garden Shop, look to your left, okay?

Make sure you go to the bathroom before you and John go walking on the beach at dusk so you don't have to cut your romantic walk short.

And the guy you go on vacation with? You'll end more in love with him than ever. None of the stuff you're worried about is going to happen. You won't run out of things to talk about. You won't get sick of each other. You won't get into a fight. You took a chance. Hold onto him. He's a keeper.

John and I in front of Wellfleet Library

But I'm sure you know that already.

< | index | >

One Year Ago:
"But I can't help wondering every time I go browse a now-static page of a former journaler. What is this person up to? Are they still with their significant other? Did they ever find a significant other? How are their kids? How is their career? And it's not like you can just sit down and email them and say, "Hi, you don't know me, but I read your online journal way back when, and I was wondering, how are you doing?"