Where I Live: Edwards House Inn

I live at the Edwards House Inn, a boarding house in Augusta, ME., down by the river. I am kind of growing to like it, even though I have never taken back the sheets and sleep in a sleeping bag on top of the bed. The bed is kind of like a recliner, my feet are way closer to the ground than my head. I think it's because people have been sitting on the edge of the bed to watch TV. The sheets are silk-like, and touch the ground, but I don't touch them. There are a lot of Haitians living here working on a local blueberry farm. A big school bus picks them up every morning and drops them off every night. They all speak French. They don't like talking to others much, but they talk to me now, I forced myself on them. They call me 'boss man,' or Mike. Probably because I'm bossy and my name is Mike. I have shared a couple laughs with them even though we have a hard time understanding each other. C'est La Vie.

Kind of Settling in Augusta

I unloaded my truck at a storage unit. Went to look for a car. Went to this little diner on stilts. Went to the library (which is right next to the Capital Building and also houses the State Museum, and State Archives), to check my email. Left the library, there was lightning. Sat in the back of my rental truck and watched it rain by the capital. Went back inside the library to post this. In the first video they are turning the capital dome lights on. In the second the lights are completely on. (They aren't that exciting. You had to be there.) They are kicking me out of the library now!

Thirteen-Hour Drive to Augusta, ME

I drove, and drove, and drove, and drove, and finally made it to Maine. I am staying in the Edwards House Inn, a boarding house. I am looking for a storage unit to put all my stuff. Then getting a vehicle. And I will probably continue to live in the Edwards House Inn until I find a place to live. Hallowell seems like a great town, I went there and got coffee at Slates Bakery and talked to a lot of the locals today. They were like different versions of my friends in DC, only here. AJ, you were there. And Jeremy was there. And Auntie Em, you were there too! Oh, for the time being you can send me mail at:
Thomas Michael Corcoran, General Delivery, Augusta, ME. 04330.
(kinda like the Ol' West)

Leaving DC: Bye-Bye

It gives me a bad feeling, leaving. But a good feeling going. I will still have my blog. And I'm sure you will love visiting Maine. I am leaving around 6am, and will be in Maine Thursday night. I have a stupid big heart that will miss you all, no matter how much you don't deserve it. (I am so good and kind.)

Leaving DC: Hanging in the Neighborhood

I walked around with Jenn. We went to a yard sale. She went to get food for her and Jeremy at Dos Gringos. I got upset about something I had to explain to her. She said it was because I was 7 years older than her, so I should expect to have to explain things from time to time. She said this while she was playing with toys at the counter of Dos Gringos. Later on Casey called me. We went to Marx Cafe. I drank a couple of Chimays on his tab. He told me one of the reason I wasn't successful at meeting women was because I am always wearing shirts from Nelly's, a local gay sports bar. I explained, "Hey, they're good quality shirts. And I got them for free from Jenn's landlord." Plus, I never thought Nelly's actually opened. I thought it was just a proposed gay bar that was still in the process of being built. Well, I'm off to Maine soon. My Nelly's shirts won't matter there. (They are awesome quality!)

Leaving DC: Demon House Cook Out

The Demon House had a cook out yesterday. It was a reminder of the days of yore. (And the hamburgers were awesome.) It was nice to get outside. I am still packing up my apartment, slowly.

Leaving DC: Housecooling

Some people convinced me to have a housecooling party at the Black Cat instead of my box-filled, half-packed apartment. To those people I say, "Thank You." Ruben's band Kitty Hawk was playing, it seemed perfect.