A New Ending to a Problematic Story

Last year when Dave and I lived in Maine I worked in the home care field. While there were horrible days (the day I cleaned blood off a bathroom floor will go down in history as Yucky Day #1), there were some great moments. I worked for a 99 year old guy who would tell me stories about life in Maine almost a century ago - he will get his own post someday. There was a 27 year old with a spinal cord injury who became more of a friend than a patient. And there was another older man, 95, who was an absolute sweetheart and a total physical mess. Mostly blind, no sense of balance, no muscle tone, lots of memory loss - much of him had deteriorated except his love of books and music. I went to see him three to five times a week and every day I would put on a record, make him some food, and read.

He didn't have any books in his apartment that really lent themselves to being read aloud - non-fiction on herbal remedies and trolley cars. I had to think for a while about what book to read to him - nothing with too much violent or sex or swearing obviously, but I wanted something that might interest an older man. Anything by Neil Gaiman was out - too much of all of those no-nos - none of my many heroine fueled fantasy novels, and no murder mysteries. It gave me some consternation to discover that I don't own many books suitable for all audiences when I found my savior. The Princess Bride, by William Goldman, has been one of my favorite book for over a decade, and my paperback copy is worn to fuzzyness. I have read it more times than I can count but it was only with this reading, done aloud with many repetitions of chapters (that's what happens when you read to someone with memory loss), when I noticed a problem with the story. Maybe it isn't a problem with the story itself, but it certainly created a problem for me, so much so that I will never read it the same way again. I could explain it to you, but I think what I would rather do is address it in the form of a short epilogue to the story. That said, I give you Buttercup's Epiphany.

Buttercup's Epiphany

Ten years after Westley relapsed again and Buttercup's horse threw a shoe, they lived in a small house on the Florinese coast. Buttercup was no longer the most beautiful woman in the world, not even in the top fifty, but she still turned heads at market. Westley was no longer as strong as he had been - the death had taken a lot out of him - and he had developed a gut that no amount of wood chopping could banish. They had two golden haired children, a boy and a girl, who were both beautiful, though not particularly intelligent.

Buttercup was washing up after dinner when she paused, suds making her hands prune in a way that dropped her another few levels.

"Westley."

"Darling?"

"You were the Dread Pirate Roberts."

Westley looked up from his paper. He stared at his wife for a long moment. "Darling, now I know that you have never been the brightest, but..."

"Don't make fun of me, Westley. I'm having a revelation. It only just occurred to me. You were the Dread Pirate Roberts. For years, you told me."

"Yes." He returned to his paper.

"Westley."

He carefully folded his hands and looked up. "Yes?"

"The Dread Pirate Roberts never leaves survivors."

Westley stared. "Well, yes."

"So you never left survivors. In all those years."

Westley said nothing.

"Westley. You killed people for money. For years."

Still he said nothing.

Buttercup turned back to the sink and looked out the window. The boy and girl played outside.

"Get out. You are not my farm boy. He died on that ship."

Westley got up from the table and went into the bedroom. Buttercup was finishing scrubbing the stew pot when he came back out, a bag over his shoulder.

"Out. Don't ever come back."

"As you wish."

All characters belong to William Goldman. There is no copyright infringement intended.

Moving: A Story of Hell

Dave and I are now residents of Pennsylvania, a fact I take great happiness in. However, given what it took us to get here, there were points where I wished we had just stayed where we were.

The ordeal began on last Saturday, when we drove to Maine for the last time. Dave's mother, with whom we are going to be living, came up with us to help in the moving process. If she hadn't come with, I don't think we would have made it at all.

We got to Springvale at about 9 Saturday evening and packed for a few hours before going to bed. Sunday morning we went to Portland for brunch at Ri Ra, one of our favorite restaurants in Maine. We put off packing for a few more hours before getting down to it, deciding to call it an early night, and crashing.

Monday we realized that we had a ton of stuff left to pack, and not enough boxes to put it in. We went on a box quest, eventually being saved by the Subway cardboard dumpster. We stayed up late and finished almost everything. Our internet, which was supposed to have been shut off that morning, still lingered, and I was able to watch the season premiere of True Blood - the highlight of this miserable ordeal.

Tuesday was when the real fun began. Our internet was still intact, so I called to find out why. My request to cancel our subscription had apparently been entirely lost, despite the long conversation I had with the girl about moving to Allentown. The mistake was rectified, but this was not to be the last, or worst, instance of someone failing at their job we encountered that day.

The previous week I had reserved a Budget truck online. We had used a Uhaul last year and it cost almost $500, so we chose to go cheap and use a different company. I cannot express how big of a mistake this was.

Satan

Monday I called the truck pickup location to confirm that the reservation was set. I was assured that we could come get our truck on Tuesday any time after 10am. We arrived at about 11, only to discover that every truck had been taken by a group needing to transport fireworks. Not only was the truck I had reserved and confirmed not there, no one called to tell me. My lack of physical violence was a feat I ought to be congratulated on. The employee I had confirmed the reservation with was as unapologetic as it is possible to be, and the only reason I didn't kill him was that he was not actually there.

We drove to the next closest Budget location, 30 miles away, after being assured that they had a truck and that it would be there when we finally got to it. The employee we talked to at the second location was at least polite, if a bit dim. Unable to perceive my barely controlled rage, he thought it would be a good idea to "mess with me" and act like he didn't know what I was talking about when I identified myself. I came close to slapping him as well.

We finally got our truck, for $350, already not worth saving any money on. Then we started driving the thing. After about 30 seconds on the highway Dave and I began sniffing, and looked oddly at each other.

"Do you smell that?"

"Yea. Is that... cat piss?!"

It was.

We were so happy at finally having a truck that we didn't immediately turn around and take it back, which in retrospect we probably should have done. Maybe we thought the smell would dissipate. Maybe we thought we could ignore it. It didn't, and we couldn't. After a thorough cleaning, Febreze, air fresheners and a few squirts of Dave's precious Armani Code, the smell of feline urine persisted.

We began packing the truck, not at the 11am we had been aiming for, but at 4:30. With the help of Tyler we were able to get everything we had packed into the smelly thing in about an hour and a half. We went to go get a lock for the truck, something that really ought to be complimentary, considering the astronomical cost of renting the damn thing. We found one that can withstand gunfire, but stupidly forgot to check how big a lock we needed, so naturally it was one nanometer too small. My mother saved the day by randomly remembering the combination of the lock we had used the year before and still had.

We said to hell with it after that and went to dinner in Portland, at the amazing Hi Bombay! There didn't look to be that much left to pack, so we weren't worried about finishing it, and cleaning the apartment, the next morning. We aimed for a noon departure. Ha.

As anyone who has ever moved before knows, it never goes quickly. It took far longer than it should have to pack the remaining crap - where did we get so much stuff?! - and cleaning was dreadful. It was about 95 degrees inside and cleaning spots of black mold off the bathroom ceiling was the least offensive thing we did. We better get our damn security deposit back, because that place hasn't been cleaned that well in years.

At 6pm we locked the door to our now hated apartment for the last time, got in the truck, and drove away. We were already feeling a bit crazy, as you can see from the borderline homicidal grin on Dave's face. We hadn't even gotten started.

I don't remember the drive from Syracuse to Springvale last year being that bad. Of course, our truck was smaller, we were driving during daylight hours and the drive itself is pretty easy. Not so going Springvale to Allentown, which involves seven states and a close encounter with New York City.

At 1 in the morning I was deep in an anxiety attack as we drove down a stretch of highway not meant for commercial vehicles, where we had already seen a tractor trailer get a police escort off the road and were there was a tunnel every mile, steadily decreasing in clearance height. Bless Dave for being calm, used to little sleep and able to put up with me, because he let me pass out for about two hours after my heart palpitations stopped. I slept through the Tappan Zee Bridge and the ten miles of unpaved road, and woke somewhere in New Jersey. The first thing that registered upon waking was the smell of cat piss. I considered leaping from the moving vehicle, but I was still too tired. We made it to Allentown at 4am without further incident, and were unconscious in minutes.

Wednesday was devoted entirely to unpacking the truck we had not 36 hours before jammed with all of our worldly possessions. Splitting the boxes between the house and the storage unit (which we filled) we unloaded everything and took the old, unwanted bed to Goodwill. The woman Dave's mother had talked to, who had assured her that Goodwill takes beds, was no longer present, and of course Goodwill doesn't actually take beds. I think murder crossed all of our minds then.

We finally got rid of the evil bed today - truly, I pity whoever ends up sleeping on that thing - and the truck was returned with 5 minutes to spare. My demand that the thing have the shit cleaned out of it before it is unleashed on some other poor, unsuspecting individual fell of deaf ears and, too tired to argue further, we left.

We still have boxes to unpack but I have my desk and my bed, so for the moment, I am happy.

Did I mention that Dave's mother is in the process of selling her house? Yea, we get to do this again in a few months. I can't wait.

Moving Out!

This will be my last blog post from Maine. Our internet will be shut off tomorrow while we finish packing the apartment, we pick up and load the moving truck Tuesday and drive off into the sunset on Wednesday. Then no more Maine except for vacations... maybe.

It has been an interesting year - work instead of school, one male roommate rather than a group of females, the wilderness instead of a city. I have fond memories of this place, but I am eager to leave. There just isn't enough to do, not enough opportunities for work, not enough family and friends. In Allentown we will be no more than 4 hours away from most of our family, and that will be really nice. I have been really lonely this past year, and I hope that will change.

There's not a lot to say, really, that I didn't already say here. I'd say that I would miss the friends Dave and I have made, but they are all moving too, and will be near us, so I can't. There's not a lot about this place that I will miss, other than the lobster.

So yea, that's about it. Pennsylvania, here we come.

Even Maine is Beautiful in the Spring

I have been seeing one client since August, and almost every day we drive to a cemetery in Saco and take a walk. I have now seen this cemetery in all four seasons, and I have to say, spring is by far the most beautiful. There is one hillside that was just snow and mud from October to March, and in the last month had burst into bloom, now a carpet of tens of thousands of daffodils.

Sadly, it is apparently necessary to post "Do Not Pick Flowers" signs every ten feet.










I've had my eye on that angel statue since I first saw it, since it reminded me of that terrifying Dr. Who episode. Now, flanked by a bright pink tree, it is really rather pretty.

Koi - Restaurant Review

Koi Sushi Bar and Asian Cuisine
11 Elm Street
Biddeford, ME 04005

Our favorite Chinese restaurant in the area closed a few months ago, at first citing "interior decorating" as the reason. This was only slightly less hilarious as the Thai restaurant around the corner being closed due to "travel destinations in Thailand".

Last week it reopened, and is now a Chinese/Japanese fusion restaurant. This means sushi, and this means happy Allison.

We went for lunch on Saturday, and had triple awesomeness - happy hour specials, lunch specials, and Grand Opening specials. Appetizers were half off for happy hour, and the Grand Opening lunch special prices were $2 per roll. Dave and I got 9 rolls between us, and three appetizers, and our lunch totaled at about $25.

I got (clockwise from top left) a California roll - cucumber, avocado and crab - a cucumber and avocado roll, a Philadelphia roll - salmon, cream cheese and green onion - and a spicy tuna roll.





I usually go with my favorites when trying a sushi place for the first time, just so I have a good frame of reference, and it was great. The fish was fresh and flavorful, and nothing was dry. The avocado was soft and ripe - hard avocado is awful.



Tyler was really hungry, as you can see from his plate. He ended up getting full and taking a lot of leftovers home, so I couldn't get a picture of him with his empty plate.



The staff are really nice and friendly, and the manager came to talk to us a few times, since we were there at the awkward 2:30 time slot between lunch and dinner, and therefor the only people there.

I would definitely recommend Koi if you want good sushi outside of Portland - nothing else compares. I would also in particular recommend going for lunch, since they have some great specials - Maki Combos with miso soup and salad: 2 rolls for $7, 3 rolls for $9.50. I'm betting the crazy cheap grand opening prices won't be around for long, but it is still less expensive than many other places I've seen. Definitely a place I will visit again.

Kobe - Restaurant Review

Kobe Japanese Grill and Sushi Bar
140 Shops Way
Biddeford, ME 04005

Tuesday was sushi day. After work I went grocery shopping and picked up a ready made container of spicy tuna and salmon sushi at our local Hannaford. Though not as good as Wegman's sushi, it is surprisingly good for coming from the Caucasian wasteland that is Maine. As it turned out, Dave, Tyler and I ended up trying the new Japanese restaurant in Biddeford that evening, so I got some real sushi a few hours later.

Having just received two parking tickets for the 10 minutes I had my car in the UNE lot - a plague on all UNE campus police - I was in a foul mood, and the pina colada - yes ma'am, with alcohol - I got because of it was extremely good. I am a fan of the compulsory pots of tea you find at Chinese establishments, and I wish other Asian restaurants did this as well, but no matter.

Because sushi is delicious and the hibachi fun, we ordered a mixture of both. Unlike many hibachi grills, the sushi at Kobe is actually the superior of the two foods, so I think in the future I will stick to just that. The lobster roll is very good, just watch out for the end piece, which, for some inexplicable reason, has part of the shell embedded in it as a decoration. This 'decoration' almost broke my teeth.

If you like enormous amounts of stir fry though, the hibachi is for you. The chef was very good and kept up a running commentary of terrible jokes (This is a Japanese egg roll! *spins an egg on the surface of the grill*) while making our food. At one point he made sure that we were all 21 and had insurance, and played a 'dangerous game' with us.

A note on the tossing food game: The object is for the chef to toss a piece of piping hot food from his spatula while the patron imitates a freshly hatched bird and attempts to catch the food in their gaping maw. A mushroom is ideal for this trick, or maybe a small piece of broccoli, though the latter tends to retain heat rather too well. A lump of scrambled eggs, however, while flying through the air, is reminiscent of the Columbia shuttle and results only in eggy bits and a stupid look all over one's face. Still, it was entertaining, and our reward for not catching any food was a mouthful of Saki. Dave got a double because he cheated and caught the egg with his hands.

The food was all good, and there was so much of it that I have leftovers for a week of lunches. It is a bit on the expensive side, so I suggest going on 'Crazy Tokyo Tuesday!' when the entire bill is 20% off. Just remember to tip both the chef and the waitress.

This Law Sucks! - The day Lady Gaga came to Portland

At 7:39 pm on Sunday, September 19th, Lady Gaga announced that she would be holding a rally the following day in a park in Portland, Maine for the repeal of Don't Ask, Don't Tell.

By 3:00 pm Monday, there were roughly 5,000 supporters in Deering Oaks Park.

She didn't sing, she didn't wear a crazy dress, and she was only there for about 18 minutes, but the audience loved it. Everyone there not only wanted to see the pop sensation, they also cared about the cause she is fighting for.






















To readers who may not know, Don't Ask, Don't Tell is a law passed in 1993 that prevents military service members from being openly gay or bisexual. If someone is outed, voluntarily or not, they are fired without retirement benefits. It is the equivalent of a dishonorable discharge. Since the laws passing, nearly 15,000 service members have been fired for admitting their non-heterosexuality.

When people began speaking at around 4:15pm, the crowd was animated and supportive. I was impressed with the amount of young people there - about 75% of the attendees were in my generation - who really seemed to care about the speakers.



First to speak was Nicholas Mavodones, Jr., the mayor of Portland. A major supporter of gay rights, the democratic mayor is clearly extremely popular with at least the younger crowd in Portland.


A number of former service men and women then spoke about their experiences. Some of them had been fairly new to the military when they were fired for being gay, but most of them had been in service for at least a decade. What struck me most was how much these people want to do their jobs. If they are willing to do so while hiding who they really are, then it seems evident that they truly love what they do. Discrimination in the workplace with regard to sexuality has been illegal for quite some time - why is the military any different?



After the service persons spoke came Maine congresswoman Chellie Pingree, another supporter of gay rights. She, like Mavodones, drew huge cheers. This interest of the youth in their political leaders is heartening.



Finally, to chants of "This Law Sucks!", our keynote speaker arrived. She delivered her already famous Equality is the Prime Rib of America speech amid cheers and storms of applause.

It is wonderful to see that, as a celebrity who got her start because of her gay fan-base, Lady Gaga is really giving back to her supporters.

* * *

Even as I write this post, the senate has refused to debate on the bill including the repeal of Don't Ask, Don't Tell. The Republican senators, including Maine's Olympia Snowe and Susan Collins, voted unanimously against the bill, due in large part to the fact that the bill included a number of other controversial issues - like illegal immigration - and that the Democratic senators were attempting to block any amendments to the bill by the Republican senators.

While generally on the Democratic side, I am severely disappointed that this loss may have been solely due to the fact that the Democrats were not willing to give the other side an equal say.

While this loss is extremely disheartening - especially considering that the election in November will almost certainly lose the Democratic majority in the Senate - I have to believe that, like the womens' rights and civil rights movements, sexuality equality will eventually become a reality. Our children will look back on these events and wonder why it took so long for all people to truly be equal, but at least their America will be more accepting than ours is now.

Cancun - Restaurant Review

Cancun Mexican Restaurant
11 Adams Street
Biddeford, ME 04005

I work on Sunday mornings, so afterward I met up with Dave, Tyler and Matt and we went to the new Mexican restaurant in Biddeford for lunch. Until now, the only Mexican place has been Bebe's, which barely qualifies as edible. The Cancun Mexican restaurant was a very pleasant surprise.

It is a small restaurant, slightly underground and looks rather like a food cellar. There are some flat screen TVs playing sports, although since this means European futbol rather than hockey or baseball, it added to the atmosphere (and since all present were soccer fans, we enjoyed it).

The wait staff was very friendly, and the fact that everyone there actually was Mexican, unlike Bebe's, gave us some more confidence in the food. Which was fantastic, by the way. There are a number of kinds of options - single dishes, combo plates, lunch and dinner specials - and everything is moderately priced. I got a combo plate of an enchilada and a fajita, which also came with a generous helping of rice and beans. Having that and bits of other people's food, I can informatively say that everything there is fantastic.

Also, they give you huge baskets of chips with salsa, which got refilled about 8 times, considering I was there with three starving male medical students. Tyler got some sort of chorizo dip which was fantastic - i must remember to try that one again. After all the meat and rice and beans, i wanted something sweet, and having seen flan* on the menu, I was itching to try it. I hadn't had good flan since Spain, and my most recent encounter with the dessert was one I bought at Wegman's - the equivalent of a pudding cup, and it was horrendous. The flan at Cancun is amazing, possibly better than some I had in Spain (sorry, Mom!). As we left, some guy outside asked Dave and I if the food was good, and I practically sang the praises of that flan. He didn't know what flan was. *headdesk*

* Flan, for all Mainers and other uncultured people, is a kind of custard made with condensed milk. It is very easy to make bad flan, and almost impossible to find good flan in the US. Another recent encounter I have had with flan was in Allentown, where pairs of men sit atop coolers on the side of the road and shout at passing drivers to by their flan or cheesecake.

No, sir, I do not want your ass-flan. Thank you.