Tears, Swass, and Fire

I flew home from Idaho on Monday and have spent 75 percent of my time since, crying.  I've been gone from my family for about two months and it's been unbelievably difficult.  I found a home this week that I want to buy.  A classy old gal that needs restoration and I'm itching to get to it.  Unfortunately, my hands are tied because my home in Idaho is still up for sale.  Despite the reassurance pouring from my parents and my lover, I'm descending to a dark place of hopelessness.  

In an effort to feel better, I visited the whaling town of New Bedford, Massachusetts today.  It was once the whaling capital of the world and one of the richest cities as welI.  I found a park ranger there who refused to come out of character:

We visited about old New Beford and then I walked around the town and one of the visitor centers.  I even found the church that Herman Melville talks about in Moby Dick...

It was a lovely way to kill some time, but as soon as I got home, my sadness descended again, so I did this to cope:

That's a bowl of Fruity Pebbles.  I bought a family sized box with the intent to eat my feelings away.  I didn't make it halfway through and felt even worse about being an eating failure.  Thankfully, I managed to plow through a medium bag of peanut butter M&Ms, so all was not lost.

I laid around for awhile on my bed, the breeziest room in my apartment, and willed the humidity to leave me alone.  In case you were wondering, it didn't help.  My butt checks have been well lubricated  with the generous swass the east coast has blessed me with these last few weeks.  My sugar coma kept me placated in my misery until I received a surprise phone call from my landlady asking if I wanted her husband, Joe, to put in the air conditioning units.  My cheapo nature wanted to refuse, but I was so miserably sweaty, I let him in.  

I've been trying to keep my guard up because it's still possible Gail, Joe, and their son downstairs, are rapists and murderers.  However, as usual, Joe was so nice and kept talking about God and how he has a plan for us that we don't understand...  I'm beginning to think they are all normal people who are only renting me an apartment.  It's almost disappointing to think they aren't nefarious after all.  

I wanted to lie around and feel sorry for myself some more, but I decided to go to Water Fire in downtown Providence instead.  Let's just say it reminded me why I was so excited to try a new adventure in the East.  There's a bunch of braziers along the river and they fill them with fire for hours.  It's pretty awesome:

I'm home again in my underpants, lounging on my bed, letting the air conditioner dry up my swass.  It's chilly and heavenly, and the most comfortable I've been all day.  I'm probably still going to spend most of my days feeling down until my family can get here, but I'm hoping that's pretty normal.  Moving to Rhode Island has been one of the hardest and bravest things I've ever done, but as my sexy lover reminds me, that doesn't make it wrong.  Maybe I need to call him and ask how wrong it is for me to finish those Fruity Pebbles...