So I kinda have this obsession with Frisbee. This doesn't mean that I ever play, in fact, maybe twice in the last 5 years or so. This has mostly to do with lack of anyone else who thinks throwing things back and forth is a good time. But this one night in Germany we went to a spontansous-type party by following these random signs to the top of a hill. We ended up playing frisbee and getting drunk while listening to DJs for hours and hours, a total blast. I think my obsession began there. Anyways, in Artvoice, they had these road trip stories and one of them mentioned Frisbee Golf at Evangola State Park (GOOGLE - Farnham, NY) (it's right to the left of Farnham on the googel:local map). I know there's a course at Chestnut Ridge which is a little closer (GOOGLE - orchard park, NY) (it's a bit to the south of Orchard Park along the 219).

• wish Google could find state park names* and *i tried to use the {map} feature and it keeps taking me to Brooklyn, wtf!*

Frisbee Golf consists of these metal basket things and I guess you try to get the Frisbee in it with as few throws as possible. Here's a Wiki link (WIKIPEDIA - frisbee golf) that goes into maybe much more detail than us casual players would want, though I think I like the term "frolf". And it seems like there's some sort of special frisbee needed, but I'm sure we can find 'em.

So, who's up for it? (e:Mike) said he'd play already...a couple more and it's a party, er frolf party.

K, so it's the coolest shit. I randomly heard this song on the radio and downloaded it, and man, i'm so hooked. It's been stuck in my head for like three weeks.

At wor: .that make me crazy...that make m crazy

driving around: i remember i remember i remember..

sitting here typing: and then you're out there...without a care...

caution: listen at your own risk...you may become addicted

Apparently my friend Nolong has been trying to contact me for a month or two now. I finally talked to her on Monday, the first time in about 10 years. She was pretty much my best friend for most of high school (along with Melissa, who usually manages to track me down semi-annually or so). It was weird, surreal almost. It was after Memorial feast-day at Maria's so I was stuffed and content. Paul's phone rang and he thrust it at me with a "for you" shrug. So I pick up and say hello and am treated to a hi and some giggles. I ask who it is and she says guess. I'm on a cell phone and her voice has definately altered somewhat, but the giggles give it away. Nolong...more giggles...I can't believe it...

Nolong has a strange story (well who doesn't right?, but just wait...you'll think it's strange). She is the offspring of parents who met while doing missionary work in Africa. She was actually born there and lived there a short time too. Her parents moved back and had some more kids from there..she has 5 or 6 (maybe more at this point) siblings, most of which (except Harry Jr.) also bear striking names of African origin. We met in high school, at the Las Vegas Academy for Performing and Visual Arts and International Study (heretofore referred to as LVA). It was a magnet school and so I started out only knowing a couple random kids from my own junior high who had also chosen to attend.

LVA was a strange school. No sports, and no mascot to speak of (though we did have these strange stickmen on our yearbook covers), we were to a certain extent all outcasts of one sort or another (though most would say voluntary outcasts). Nolong sang and so did I, we had choir together, which meant 2-4 periods together a day. Choir at our school was the replacement sports team for us (or Band/Dance/Musical Theater...). It sucked up our lives. I rarely ever took the early bus home (which left at a normal 3 or 4), almost always the late bus for those of us in rehearsals or doing projects or shows. Wow this is rambling...it's just Nolong was such an integral part of my high school life that it all needs explanation.

Well anyways, so let's get back to her. Her parents converted to Mormonism when she was young and all the kids were raised as Mormons. This is a little weird, there just really aren't that many black Mormons...in fact she's probably one of the first I ever met, and there's a whole lot of Mormons where I'm from. At the time we met I was also Mormon which meant we had all the more bonding time (especially since Mormon high-schoolers are expected to spend their lunches in Seminary learning the Gospels and stuff). So we talked a lot about that and our spirituality and our problems and dillemas. She, a black mormon, me a gay mormon (though at first not "out" to anybody at all), we were just meant to connect.

Well, she was a year older and graduated, leaving me to my fate. My senior year was a bit dramatic. I managed to get kicked out of HS (though I still oficially graduated). I finally "became" gay, left the church, had my first drink/smoke. Yeah, I started late but tried to hit every base. Somewhere around this time Nolong and I had a falling out. It wasn't anything overly-dramatic, but a couple comments which weren't appreciated, some others that were misunderstood, the normal stuff that 17 year olds say I spose looking back. But we just never got back to that level of friendship. And then we went to college, Nolong moved off to Utah, and that was it.

She has three kids now! Wow! Her daughter's name is Abele (a-bell-eh) I think, which is a beautiful name. She is divorced now, which came as kind of a surprise to me, with the whole Mormon thing, which she still is. She, like me, has a job that has nothing to do with her passion. What does she look like? The same? Who cares really.

She was the same old Nolong. It was weird how everything kinda snapped into place. Even though I can't remember half of what happened in high school, I still remmeber the essential her. Her weird little giggles, her directness, her ability to sense when something is unsaid. Honestly it kinda freaked me out. I mean I'm such a different person now, or at least like to think so, and it was strange how vulnerable she made me feel. Somehow I kinda feel that she can rip me up and tear me to shreds. Not that she wants to do that or has any intention too. Maybe it's just how it made me think of that time and look back at all the intervening life-decisions that I've made. I don't know...

So she says she's coming to visit me. Which is so like her. There's no, okay...ummm...maybe we'll see each other, or well, I come to visit a lot, or all the other platitudes that you could say. It was alright well I'm gonna look at flights and call you back. I was like whoa! But happy and excited and apprehensive. It's one thing to have an hour long chat and another to have a weekend. But I think it's a good thing. I truly miss her, and she played such a big role in making me, well, me.

What'dya think, is she coming?

As further reference to just how close the proposed casino will be to poverty, please reference the Google map below. I obtained the map by googling municipal housing, buffalo, ny (GOOGLE - municipal housing, buffalo, ny). Result D, which is shown on the map, is the Buffalo Municipal Housing Authority Employment Opportunity Center (though sadly it's actually mispelled). The casino would be less than a block from multiple housing projects. (e:joshua,142)

Happy Birthday, my lover.