W o n d e r l a n d

T h i s C o f f e e T a b l e b o o k i s d e d i C a T e d

W i T h a C h e e r s a n d r a i s e d g l a s s

a n d a W i n k a n d o u r f u l l e s T h e a r T s

T o k a T e l y n b i s C h o f f

T h e r e a l T h i n g

T h e s a l T

T h e s W e e T e s T

T h e b o o b j o b

T h e M i l k M a i d

T h e b l o n d e

T h e b e a u T y

T h e o n e W e l o v e

T h e o n e W h o l o v e s

T o k a T i e

Foreword

This book is about the friendship and special times of an eclectic and unconventional band of friends who have come and grown together over the years and formed a special bond. Too many friends to mention and list; all loved and appreciated. Some like our beautiful Dominique have been with the band since kinder-garten; others came later at Marymount, FIT, or through seren-dipity… Margot with her free spirit and vegetarian diet that I both accommodated and compromised. Topher and Mike drove me crazy wearing their hats indoors but were always a pleasure to have in our home. Mary, a living smile and a breath of fresh air. Sweet Sarah, who I believe needs no sleep and enjoys life while the rest of the world is sleeping. Griffin- don’t fake hit on Tyler again. Evan, who slept on the couch with his feet up and pretended to be asleep when I’d walk past him and to whom I will be eternally grateful for being there when Katelyn needed a living angel. Conor and the Kneeshaw boys have been a con-stant presence and will always be Katelyn’s special friends. More recently, Lauren has appeared and has brought a new light to the Aurora Borealis of friendship.

In writing this foreword, our shared times at Bear Run seem to be the common thread to tie us together. It made me think about something I wrote back when we were moving back in March of 2012. As the children and I prepared for our impending move from our home on Ramapo Lake and toward the closing sale, it is a bittersweet time for all of us, sweet in that we were looking forward to the next chapter in our lives and remembering all the wonderful memories, memories that will last several lifetimes. However it is those same memories that made for an emotionally difficult move…the bitter. We didn’t yet know where we were going; the winds had not yet gotten into our sails.

One night after dinner, on a night I was a bit melancholy, my daughter Katelyn wrote me a note about her thoughts regarding our impending move from our home on Ramapo Lake.

Dad,

What I wanted to say at dinner was that though as sad as it is that we are leaving this house, we need to leave on a positive note, only looking forward. This house is one of a kind. It was our missing puzzle piece. Our family was broken and scattered, without a place to really call “home”. It appeared when we needed it most. It strengthened our relationships, and as we changed, it changed with us. It has been our sanctuary. We’ve built unforgettable memories here that will forever live within us. From bon fires, to hikes, to Katie Points West, firework shows, bears, fishing trips, ice fishing, cooking outside while we didn’t have a kitchen, late swims, Thanksgivings. For me, this is where I spent my most memorable holidays, they were real family holidays. We’ve had crazy fights, tears, and lots of laughter. But now we’ve grown, and it’s time to find another place to call home and build different memories. Here’s what I think, I think this house appears in certain people’s lives when they need it. I can only hope what this house has done for us it’ll do for to the man that moves in here. He sounds deserving of this place and will cherish and love it the way we do. Maybe the missing pieces of his life will come together when he’s living here. And the people that move in after him, and so on and so forth. Our next home will be filled with just as much love or even more love. We’ll build it and decorate it with love from the ground up with love. We’ll have more holidays, even more memories. And maybe more fun now that we are all growing up and enjoying each other’s company more. We need a home that accommodates us better. In a few years our family will be expanding, we’ll get mar-ried, you’ll have grandchildren, and we need a home where we can have bigger Thanksgivings and bigger Christmases. We need a more functional home. We can only look forward. I for one am excited for the next leg of our journey.

Love …Katelyn

It brought to mind a movie I saw years ago,

“Life as a House”.

I always thought of myself as a house.

I was always what I lived in.

It didn’t need to be big.

It didn’t even need to be beautiful.

It just needed to be mine.

I became what I was meant to be.

I built myself a life.

I built myself a house.

Katelyn is right, we carry our memories with us wherever we go…our home is within. Connor and I came here in the spring of ’07 and it made us whole again and we have loved every moment. Here, even the bad was good. I recovered from several serious medical problems in this peaceful place. Katelyn followed shortly after Connor, and Tyler more recently. Hunter has spent much of his time taking advantage of what this magical place has to offer and friends and most especially family completed the elixir, the magic power for drying wounds.

I could wax poetically about the time Katelyn drove my truck over the cliff, waking up to bodies all over the floor on couches, pillows, or even outside by the fire pit trying to stay warm. Life was about breaking out the guitars at all hours of the day, sitting barefoot on the rock outcroppings sipping cold PBR. Dinners were always a centerpiece, whether a warm summer evening or my daughter’s Thanksgiving warm-up dinners. Sometimes I look at the children’s photographs on Facebook and realize the memories are far great-er and more beautiful than I am fully aware. The most wonderful thing about them is they never stop and we can create new ones throughout our entire lives. Nothing can happen to stop them, they will keep coming.

So today, where are we… friends and family building new memories in Saratoga, New York. Many of the same friends have already come and stayed at the farmhouse. This home has been standing for 235 years and we are just adding to the remembrances that already exist here, some forgotten and many yet to be created. History creaks above and below me as I sit and write this note in my office. How many have gone through this portal…someday we’ll find out on the other side, but it’s nice to have my children and all their friends passing through it with us.

Our life is our house, not the other way around, and it travels with us wherever we go. Having a loving family and friends makes it about the journey, not the destination.

Billy BischoffFebruary 24, 2013

W o n d e r l a n d

T h o u g h W e W a n d e r , W e a r e n o T l o s T .

W e a r e a l l M a d h e r e .

n o T h i n g i s T o o W o n d e r f u l T o b e T r u e .

i . d o W n T h e r a b b i T h o l e

i . d o W n T h e r a b b i T h o l e

W e a r r i v e d i n T h i s p l a C e T o g e T h e r . i T h a s b e e n s a i d T h a T n o s o u l s h o u l d C o M e T o n e W y o r k T o

l i v e u n l e s s h e i s W i l l i n g T o b e l u C k y . o u r l u C k y s o u l s s T o o d W i l l i n g l y s i d e b y s i d e a n d s a i d

g o o d b y e T o T h e C o M f o r T a b l e f a M i l i a r i T i e s o f y o u T h . o u r l u C k y s o u l s h e l d h a n d s a n d l a u g h e d

a s W e s u r v e y e d T h e p a n o r a M i C v i e W f r o M T h e p r e C i p i C e o f a d v e n T u r e . o u r l u C k y s o u l s k n e W

b e f o r e W e d i d T h a T T h e f u T u r e W a s W h e r e W e W o u l d f i n d e a C h o T h e r — T h e k i n d r e d s p i r i T s W i T h

p a s s i o n f a r e x C e e d i n g T h e n o r M a l s p h e r e o f e x i s T e n C e . e a C h o n e o f u s p o s s e s s i n g s o M e T h i n g

e x T r a o r d i n a r y , r a r e , d i f f e r e n T — W e W e r e d r a W n T o e a C h o T h e r b e f o r e i T e v e n b e g a n . i n o r d e r

T o f i n d e a C h o T h e r , W e h a d T o j u M p h e e d l e s s l y i n T o T h e M a d W i l d n e s s a l r e a d y b u r n i n g i n o u r

h e a r T s . W e W e r e s e e k i n g T h o M p s o n ’ s p a r a d i s e : T o l i v e o u T W h e r e T h e r e a l W i n d s b l o W , T o s l e e p

l a T e , d r i n k W h i s k e y , a n d d r i v e f a s T o n e M p T y s T r e e T s W i T h n o T h i n g i n M i n d e x C e p T f a l l i n g i n

l o v e a n d n o T g e T T i n g a r r e s T e d . n e W y o r k C a l l e d T o u s . W e W e r e p o W e r l e s s a g a i n s T i T s C a l l ,

T h a T W h i C h W o u l d f a C i l i T a T e o u r C r a v i n g f o r T h e W i l d l i f e , T h e g o o d f i g h T . W e W e r e l o o k i n g

f o r o u r p u r p o s e a n d o u r p a s s i o n , a n d a d v e n T u r e a n d M i s C h i e f a n d l e a r n i n g a n d i n s p i r a T i o n ,

a n d W h i s k e y o n s T r e e T C o r n e r s , a n d C i g a r e T T e s o n r o o f T o p s , a n d d a r k r e d b a r s , a n d b r i g h T

W h i T e s T u d i o s , a n d s u n r i s e s , a n d s u n s e T s . i n T o T h e d a r k n e s s , T h e s T r a n g e n e s s , T h e M a d n e s s ,

T h e b e a u T y , T h e C o n f u s i o n , T h e e p i p h a n i e s , T h e h e a r T b r e a k , T h e l o v e .

W e k n e W n o T h i n g , W e f e l T e v e r y T h i n g .

W e T o o k a d e e p b r e a T h a n d j u M p e d .

a C r o s s T h e d i s T a n C e s o f T i M e a n d s p a C e .

d o W n T h e r a b b i T h o l e .

When my dorm room became polluted with Joe’s BO, I found refuge in your suite, where the air smelled of cheesy Velveeta and Patron. When my apartment on 9th and A stunk of rotten earth, black mold and eventually raw sewage, I ran away to your lake house, and the aroma of campfire and lavender helped me forget my awful situation. When the Astoria trash became sunburned and funky last summer, I escaped to Saratoga, where the scent of pumpkins and tall grass relieved my nasal distress.

Although I can’t remember every moment of these adventures, I’ll never forget the way they smelled.

How do I even start? Maybe with the boar when you introduced me to this wonderful place with a water view where we could run wild and free. We were one with the children running around and when the sun went down it was all ours. No more damp alcove, we were now in the open air.

I never thought I’d meet a princess, let alone have the privilege of calling one my friend. But here we were, seemingly unlikely kindred spirits.

Only the truest of friends would stuff me in a suitcase so I could then emerge and split an entire pizza with only them while everyone else slumbered after the greatest April 20th anyone has ever experienced. Ever.

From there the purest of best friendships were born, solidified by an invitation to the most secret Disney World park: the Lake House. Boarding a mysterious nightbus, asking the driver every few stops if we’d missed ours, only to find out it was the last. An introduction to the selfless family that had shaped you followed. An SUV blasting Jack Johnson awaited us and we were whisked away, driving further and further into the middle of nowhere. That first visit would be far from the last, and I would quickly learn that once one had staked out their bed, couch or pile of blankets on the laundry room floor, all troubles ceased to exist. From there it was all gourmet home cooked meals accompanied by strong cocktails surrounded by the best people I could ever hope to meet. It didn’t take long to discover that if you consider a person to be quality, that I will agree, no matter how different they may have seem from myself initially. A personality like yours burns strong in the eyes of all that you meet. Once you get past the shock that someone so beautiful is acknowledging your existence, it’s not hard to see that you’re so much more than that. Wow, what an understatement. How such a warm, open heart can coexist with such a healthy dose of bad ass sass will never be fully explained.

Meeting the family helps though. Until recently, it seemed like a miracle that a princess had emerged amongst a bevy of mountain men. And then I met your mother and grandmother. Two of the truest ladies in the garden state, no doubt. Beyond the style, the effortless glamour, there’s the heart. The ability to make anyone feel familiar and welcome, no matter what the circumstance. Then there’s the kings and future kings. Jacks sweet tooth is certainly appropriate given his sweet-er disposition, but its easy to tell he takes no bull. I’m going to do my best to stay comfortably on his good side. Not-so-baby Hunter has grown up before our eyes. I’ll never forget the first time I saw him that last night at the lake. I didn’t recognize him, where was the boy who climbed a tree during prom? I don’t know how strong and stoic Tyler puts up with us. I look forward to getting to know him better as he becomes the great man he’ll undoubtedly be. There aren’t enough words to express how grateful I am to know that there are men like Conner among us. To build fires. To bring the best beer. To take amazing photos. To talk to. To listen to. You shaped him. He shaped you. We’re all so lucky to have you both.Lastly comes pater familias, who for some reason lets us refer to him simply as BB. As adept at throwing a party as shutting it down, his generosity knows no bounds. He not only lets us invade his homes, he makes us feel welcome to do so. He walks amongst us, dispensing advice and wisdom most peo-ple would be happy to pay for. His homes. Our homes, our summer camps, our nightclubs rolled into one. There were times when we couldn’t believe our eyes, which may have had to do with the fact that sometimes the things we were seeing weren’t really there. Sometimes we found ourselves at the top of a mountain, amongst the ruins of a castle. Sometimes we found ourselves on an island, covered in mud. Sometimes we found ourselves on the ledge of a cliff, wearing bathing suits, waving to the bewildered hikers below. Always, we found ourselves amongst friends.And then we’d return to reality, which actually wasn’t so bad. It often consisted of lazing on couch-es and watching too much television, assigning characters to each other for every show. You’re the sexy one, Margot’s the crazy one, Jackie’s the sweet one, and I’m the lesbian. Every freakin time. Sometimes I’d come home to find an elaborate prank being played, happily not on me, especially since the effort was usually foiled pretty quickly. Jackie would rip off the barricades on her doorway in a single gesture, and it turned out it took more than a few pieces of duct tape to attach her to the wall. And then we all followed each other to Brooklyn. We pretended we were grown ups now, choking down four loko and piling into cabs. The best nighs often consisted of flat wooden surfaces, otherwise known as kitchen tables, and only each other. Talking and talking and talking and talking until sun-rise. This was the last weekend at the lake house. Dominique, Marc, Hunter, you and I. Bagels. Champs. Marc cant deal with women smoking cigars and also sees no meaning to life? Hunter learning every-thing he ever needs to know about girls to get him through high school and undergrad at least. Other things. Other things. Huddling around the fire. All of the lights, all of the lights. For some rea-son or another, fate, my ego, the stars, a revelation occurred: I can “sign” five for fightings 100 years. Too. Much. Laughter. I’m 22 for a moment. She feels better than ever and we’re on fire. Making our way back from Mars...

wine-cackling-witchy-toothed "babysitter" of lake georgepowder pink uggs, a canoe, & three measly gummi-bears

slippery-finned psychedelic swimming up & down, fishing for phones with magnets in the lake

AN ENTIRE BOX OF DINER FOODtrampoline hiding from men in "white lab coats"

an 8 hour swarthmore drive

REAL TALK"don't worry honeybee, i promise to always wear my seatbelt"

"what do you think sef and conor talk about?"pratt prom pregnant mexican "cab" driver

Marymount packed-lunches with PBRs "SFILZ, ARE YOU IN LOVE WITH GHETTO MIKE?"

i i . n y C

i i . n y C

i i . n y C

a g r e a T M a n o n C e r e M a r k e d n o M a T T e r W h e r e y o u s i T i n n e W y o r k y o u f e e l T h e v i b r a T i o n s o f

g r e a T T i M e s a n d T a l l d e e d s , o f r e M a r k a b l e p e o p l e a n d e v e n T s a n d u n d e r T a k i n g s . W e a l l C a M e

h e r e o n a q u e s T f o r s o M e T h i n g , T h e C i T y o f f i n a l d e s T i n a T i o n , T h e C i T y T h a T i s T h e g o a l . i T i s u s

a n d o u r C o M p a T r i o T s T h a T a C C o u n T f o r n e W y o r k ’ s h i g h - s T r u n g d i s p o s i T i o n , i T s p o e T i C a l d e p o r T -

M e n T , i T s d e d i C a T i o n T o T h e a r T s , a n d i T s i n C o M p a r a b l e a C h i e v e M e n T s . T h e p a s s i o n . W e e M b r a C e d

n e W y o r k W i T h T h e i n T e n s e e x C i T e M e n T o f f i r s T l o v e , W i T h T h e f r e s h e y e s o f a n a d v e n T u r e r .

W e i n v i T e y o u T o g l i M p s e o u r l i v e s b e h i n d T h e C u r T a i n , b e y o n d T h e r u n W a y , b e n e a T h

T h e s u r f a C e ; C l o T h e s a n d C i g a r e T T e s , s h o e s a n d l i g h T e n i n g b o l T s , e n e r g y d r i n k s ,

C a T s a n d C o C k T a i l s , p a i n T b r u s h e s a n d s T a i n e d d r e s s e s , i n k s p i l l s , f l a W s , b a r e f e e T ,

d r e a M C a T C h e r f a i r y T a i l M y s T e r i e s , b r o k e n h e a r T s , d r u g s . v i o l e n C e , i n s a n i T y a n d

p o l i C e M e n a n d j a i l T i M e a n d f r e e d o M , s p e e d i n g T i C k e T s , d r i n k i n g T i C k e T s , f a l l e n

s o l d i e r s , g h o s T s , a i r p l a n e s , b u l l e T s , r o o f T o p l i g h T e n i n g s T o r M s , M u s i C b l a s T i n g ,

T o p d o W n , e C s T a s y , b e d b u g s , f e a r , e s C a p i s M , p l e a s u r e , a n d p a n i C a T T a C k s , a n d T h e

i M p o s s i b l e W o n d e r s T h a T W e i M a g i n e d a n d b e C a M e a n d C r e a T e d a n d d i s C o v e r e d a n d

i n v e n T e d a n d l i v e d . a n d h s a i d , T h e a i M o f l i f e i s T o l i v e , a n d T o l i v e M e a n s T o b e

a W a r e , j o y o u s l y , d r u n k e n l y , s e r e n e l y , d i v i n e l y a W a r e . T o T h e T e a r s a n d l a u g h T e r ,

W e k n o W . o h h o W W e l i v e .

d i d n ’ T k n o W W h e r e i W a s g o i n g , d i d n ’ T C a r e , n o T W h e n y o u g o T T h a T W a n d e r l u s T , y o u g o T T a M o v e .

i T W a s r a i n i n g W h e n W e d e p a r T e d b u T T h e s u n W a s o u T b y T h e T i M e W e h i T h i g h W a y . T h e s T o n e s p l a y e d

M o s T o f T h e W a y . a n d f i n a l l y f i n a l l y f i n a l l y T h a T s k y l i n e e M e r g e d o u T o f T h e e a r T h , s o W i l d , s o

r a W , s o r e a l , T h e T o p s o f T h o s e b u i l d i n g s M a n , f u C k i n g M a g i C . d r o p p e d i n W a s h h e i g h T s , i n f r o n T

o f a h o u s e f i l l e d W i T h a C a T a n d f r i e n d s a n d s T r a n g e r s , T h e d a y a f T e r M o M e n T a r y h e a d r u s h .

b u z z i n g . a n d a T r a i n T h r o u g h T h e d a r k n e s s T o a j e r s e y h o u s e p a r T y , a f l a s h o f b l o n d e i n T h e

n i g h T , j a C u z z i , s M o k e , T e l e v i s i o n s T a T i C a n d d e s T i n e d T o s T a r T s o M e W h e r e , i T M a y W e l l b e h e r e i n

T h i s p l a C e , W h e r e T h e W i l d o n e s C o M e T o p l a y .

W h e r e i s p e n T T h a T f i r s T s u M M e r , W h e r e i T b e g a n f o r M e .

W e a l l g o T h e r e a T d i f f e r e n T T i M e s , f r o M d i f f e r e n T p l a C e s , a n d W e ’ d r u n i n T o

e a C h o T h e r o n s T r e e T C o r n e r s o r d o r M r o o M s o r d a r k b a r s o r T r a i n s W e h a d n ’ T

r e a l l y l e a r n e d y e T , o r a n y o T h e r n u M b e r o f i n s i g n i f i C a n T p l a C e s .

i T W a s a M i x T u r e o f l o n g i n g a n d W i l d n e s s a n d h o p e a n d T h a T s W e e T , s W e e T

W a n d e r l u s T T h a T d r o v e u s T o T h e C i T y , a n d l a T e r , T o o n e a n o T h e r .

W h i l e i T W a s h a p p e n i n g , a n d f o r s o M e T i M e a f T e r , W e d i d n o T u n d e r s T a n d .

s l o W l y , W e f o r g e d a f a M i l y o f b r i l l i a n T a n d W i l d d r e a M e r s .

i T W a s u n r e M a r k a b l e u n T i l i T W a s n ’ T a n y M o r e .

n y C W a s o u r b e g i n n i n g a n d o u r v e s s e l .

W e w e r e y o u n g i n n s . T h e d o r m s w e r e d r u n k e n . H o t P o c k e t s w e r e

s e r v e d .F a r t s ( a n d t h e d e b t w a s p a i d ) .

T h e n i g h t w a s y o u n g . T h e b a r w a s d a r k . J o h n M a y e r w a s n e a r .

M a n g i n a .

T h e c i t y w a s C h a r l e s t o n . S h a r k i n g w a s r a m p a n t .

S p r a w l e d o u t o n m y b a s e m e n t f l o o r . S i n g i n g L e s M i s .

I r v i n e d i d n ’ t m a k e s e n s e .

M a r g o t a n d C h a r l e s s k i p p e d o f f i n t o t h e w o o d s .

S t o p S i g n D a n c e P a r t i e s W e r e H a d .D o m i n i q u e ’ s b f l u c k i l y n e v e r w e n t

u p i n f l a m e s .T h e l a k e h o u s e l i v e s o n .

“ W h a t t h e h e l l m a n ? ! D o I g o t o y o u r h o u s e a n d p i s s o n y o u r m o t h a ? ! ”

On a lazy weekend in the Fa l l of 2007, Kat ie , Margot , Jack ie and I were spend ing an afternoon loung ing in the Astor ia abode . As the day passed , Kat ie and Margot ventured outs ide to secure some snacks and other tasty t reats wh i le on the i r way home, they stumb led upon an unfami l ia r s i te . I rece ived a phone ca l l from Kat ie and to my surpr ise , the g i r l s had found a lone dog on the st reet . They informed me that they were go ing to br ing the dog back to the apartment and I shou ld prepare . What they had in mind , I wasn ’ t qu i te sure , but I i nformed Jack ie just as the two ar r i ved wi th dog in hand . Qu ick ly we assembled a make sh ift cage out of cha i rs , su i tcases , boxes , and anyth ing e lse we cou ld get our hands on . We found a be l t for a co l la r , d rew a bath ( i t looked as if i t needed one , desperate ly ) , and went out to buy some food and t reats . Whi le Kat ie and Jack ie scrubbed down the dag , I ca l led every loca l an ima l she l ter I cou ld locate on l i ne . The on ly p lace I cou ld find was in Manhattan . By now, we had grown to love the dog and we be l ieved i t loved us too . After what seemed l i ke a week , but rather was on ly two hours , we embarked on the journey to br ing the dog to proper care . As we headed down the steps and out the door , a ne ighbor ye l led to us “Hey , that ’s my dog ! ” Puzz led , as th is man had been outs ide wh i le the dog was escor ted back to our home, Kat ie rep led “Whaa?” The ne ighbor shouted back “Oh yea , that ’s Fr ida . That ’s my dog . ” As abrupt ly

as the love affa i r began , i t ended just as qu ick .

None of these dogs are Fr ida . Here are other dogs we ’ve spent some t ime wi th :

Lo la Bowie

Monkey Wi l kes Tr ip&Fa l l

i i i . i C e n C h i C k n

CHICKNIt has to be mentioned- the chicken. All the food, but the chicken especially. And don’t think it started with Kennedy’s, because we’ve been at this a long time- the chicken eating. If you grew up in Jersey, you grew up in diners, and if you had any sense at all, you grew up ordering chicken fingers and fries and ranch and honey mustard on the side in bowls so deep you could drown your whole meal.

In Jersey, you have to drive everywhere. You have to drive to the chicken. You have to sneak out of the house with your teeth stained cheap-wine-purple, and steal away in the family car, driving like a mess with your face up at the steering wheel, keep-ing the headlights off until you round the corner and it’s quick and free from there. We liked the chicken tenders at Wendy’s. And then Baconators, and then, when we were getting too damn old for drive-through windows, Jr. Baconators. Like that time, Katie and Sarah, when we drove an hour out of our way for the Wendy’s in Paramus and ate so fast, man it was incredible and then held ourselves, rocking forwards and back and moaning but eying all the fries and eating all the fries and pleading with ourselves to stop.

Katelyn and I got KFC one time. A bucket of popcorn chicken that steamed up the windows of the Yukkon and we got high and confused and sticky hot and Gogol Bor-dello was playing loud. Too loud to think straight, and it felt like the music had us in its twisted grips. Katelyn drove fast and effortlessly around obstacles, turns and mail-boxes, dips and trash cans, the low branches of the suburban trees on streets twisty that unfolded in front of us to the manic beat of this black magic music. I wanted to say to her, “Katie, we’re being lulled to our death.” My voice was hopeless. It was January, but when we got to where we were going, our pupils were too big and our sweat smelled of deep fried fast food and fear.

Why stop at eating the chicken when you can own the chicken? Sound logic bred from days spent bored, hiding out from school at my dad’s apartment off Route 17 with the Blockbusters and tanning beds only a walk across the highway.

Chickens die in transit. If you’d like to order a chicken, you have to order ten. Incase. But chances are pretty good that they’ll make it to your mom’s house in top form. So what now with the mad pecking and crowing and shitting of seven or eight or nine birds trailing feathers all over your bedroom? Call all your friends. Pitch them this idea. How’d you like your very own chicken? We’ve done all the research and they’re very cute. As it turns out, no one wants their very own chicken, and this gets us thinking that there must be some reason. So we pause our order, put down BB’s credit card and hit up the Borders for some dry reading on chicken rearing. A few chapters in, there it is: you have to buy feed. There’s other stuff too, like building a coop and reading more of this book, but the feed is enough to discourage us out of our dream so the birds are gone away, consigned to the purgatory of their eternal, perilous transportation.

So Kennedy’s. So Crown. Katelyn had them both around the corner from her place in Bed Stuy. And it was a darker time then, goverened by a gang of waify girls who had been roughed up by the heavy handed god that was our city, ravaged by the bed bugs and drink, beaten back by all this slave labor and rent making and boys being mean and girls being meaner, chastity and promiscuity and loneliness and heart wrenching love, and we’d satiate our phsychosis with chicken. No one wanted to go to Bed Stuy- it was way out off the G, it had one bar, it was dangerous- but if curly fries were waiting at the end of the long commute, we’d get there right quick.

There was a bunch of us one night, sloppy drunk, and we ordered the wings and more wings and nuggets and fries- cheesy fries and a burger. All the condiments and when we got this stuff home it was so many styrofoam dishes stacked high and steaming, with napkins and packs of salt and pepper like confettie across the floor. But the burger wasn’t there and indignation ensued. Katelyn commanded our march back to Kennedy’s. All of us a mess- slipping on heels and squinting against inbriation- crying out for our lost burger and Katie’s tirade slurried, “Look intimidating! Don’t take no for an answer! Demand more ranch dressing!” And when we spilled through the doors and surrounded the bullet-proof window behind which stood our Kennedy’s man, we lost our nerve- disoriented by the flourescents, maybe- and fell back, leaving Katie to haggle bravely for a two dollar burger with the sun lurking past the horizon. In the morning, the evidence of our gluttony stared us down from every surface of the apartment, and the burger sat alone, atop its throne of garbage, untouched in its wrapper. We were really only in it for the chicken.

i i i . l a k e h o u s e

i i i . T h e l a k e h o u s e

“ s a r a h , i n T h e 3 0 M i n u T e s i ’ v e b e e n l i v i n g a T h o M e M y f a T h e r h a s C a u g h T a n d k i l l e d

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a n d h o W b e T T e r T o d e s C r i b e T h i s p l a C e o f s a n C T u a r y a n d i n s a n i T y a n d e s C a p i s M ?

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l o v e e a C h o T h e r i n T h e s o l i T u d e o f n a T u r e ’ s g l o r y , T o f i g h T h e d a W n . T o d r e a M . .

i n T o x i C a T i o n ,

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M a y h e M ,

s l e e p .

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h a z a r d o u s l y i n a l l d i r e C T i o n s , T o T h e l a k e h o u s e W e W o u l d r u n , a n d T h e r e , T o g e T h e r

W e W o u l d r e g a i n o u r p o W e r a n d o u r j o y .

T o u N D e R S T A N D , I T M u S T B e G I N W I T H T H e G o o D B Y e L o v e L e T T e R K A T I e W R o T e T o T H e H o u S e

A N D T o u S W H e N T H A T e P I C e R A F I N A L L Y C A M e T o A N e N D . T H e H o u S e T H A T S H e L T e R e D A N D

N u R T u R e D o u R D R e A M S W H e N W e W e R e Y o u N G .

S H e S A I D I T P e R F e C T L Y .

L I S T e N , R e A D :

“ T o e v e R Y e N D , T H e R e I S A N e W B e G I N N I N G .

S I T T I N G H e R e , R u M M A G I N G T H R o u G H I T e M S L e F T B e H I N D F R o M F A M I L Y A N D F R I e N D S , A N D

R e M I N I S C I N G o v e R T H e P A S T , ‘ C A R e o F C e L L 4 4 ’ B Y T H e z o M B I e S P L A Y S I N M Y H e A D . I T ’ S

P R o B A B L Y B e C A u S e o F T H A T F I R S T S u M M e R W e A L L S H A R e D H e R e . 1 9 Y e A R S o L D , C A R e L e S S

A N D e A G e R . W e u P R o o T e D o u R S e L v e S F R o M T H e C I T Y A N D S o u G H T R e F u G e I N T H e W o o D S .

T H e H o u S e W A S u N D e R C o N S T R u C T I o N T H e N , W e D I D N ’ T H A v e A K I T C H e N B u T W e S T I L L

M A N A G e D T o C o o K 5 C o u R S e M e A L S o v e R A S M A L L F I R e . W e W e R e H A P P Y . W e R A N L o o S e

T H R o u G H T H e W o o D S , S W A M u N D e R T H e S T A R S , C L I M B e D H I L L T o P S , C R e A T e D , S A N G , D A N C e D

u N T I L o u R K N e e S G A v e I N , A N D S C R e A M e D A T T H e T o P o F o u R L u N G S . W e W e R e F R e e . W e

W e R e A L L I N L o v e W I T H T H I S P L A C e A N D e A C H o T H e R ’ S C o M P A N Y .

W e R e T u R N e D e v e R Y S u M M e R P I C K I N G u P W H e R e W e L A S T L e F T o F F . W e F o u N D o u R S e L v e S

N A M I N G D I F F e R e N T P A R T S o F T H e P R o P e R T Y , M o S T F A M o u S , P R I D e R o C K , W H e R e C o N o R B u I L T

T H e L A K e ’ S P I e C e D R e S I S T A N C e , A M A S S I v e F I R e P I T . W e T H R e W C o N C e R T S , M o S T N o T A B L Y ,

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P B R . W e ’ D S e T u P T e N T S A R o u N D T H e P R o P e R T Y R e C R e A T I N G o u R o W N L I T T L e M I N I F e S T I v A L .

M Y F A T H e R W o u L D W H I P o u T T H e G u I T A R A N D D o H I S B e S T C A T S T e v e N S , S o M e T I M e S I F P R e S -

S u R e D e N o u G H , I ’ D J o I N H I M S I N G I N G S o M e J A C K J o H N S o N . T H e R e W A S A L W A Y S S o M u C H

I N S P I R A T I o N I N T H e A I R ( T o P H e R & M I K e ’ S M o v I e S , S A R A H ’ S P H o T o G R A P H Y , D o M I N I q u e & M Y

L I F e S I z e D P A P e R M A C H e A N I M A L S , M A R G o T ’ S P o e T R Y A N D S T o R I e S ) . I N T H e F A L L , A S M A L L

G R o u P o F u S S T A R T e D A “ M o C K T H A N K S G I v I N G ” , A W e e K e N D F I L L e D W I T H T o o M u C H F o o D ,

L o T S o F S I N G A L o N G S , A N D L o T S o F T H A N K S . W H e N W I N T e R C A M e , W e ’ D H u D D L e A R o u N D

T H e F I R e , H I B e R N A T e , I C e F I S H , A N D T R e K T o T H e C A S T L e I N T H e S N o W . ( D A N G e R o u S ) .

e v e R Y D A Y H e R e W A S F I L L e D W I T H L o v e , W I T H L A u G H T e R . e v e R Y D A Y W A S F I L L e D W I T H T H e

S A M e S P I R I T W e C A M e H e R e W I T H . S o M e T H I N G A B o u T T H I S P L A C e C o u L D M A K e A N Y T H I N G

B e T T e R .

M Y F A T H e R B o u G H T T H I S H o M e F o R H I S C H I L D R e N , e v e R Y T H I N G H e P u T I N T o I T W A S F o R u S .

I T B R o u G H T u S T o G e T H e R A S A F A M I L Y , I T M A D e u S A F A M I L Y . A S W e C H A N G e D , T H e H o u S e

C H A N G e D W I T H u S . T H I S H o u S e W A S M A G I C . B u T W e ’ L L T A K e T H A T S A M e M A G I C A N D S A M e

F e e L I N G W I T H u S T o T H e N e x T o N e . S o T H A N K Y o u B B , T H A N K Y o u F o R T H e “ Y o u T H H o S T e L ” .

T H A N K Y o u F o R L e T T I N G u S B e Y o u N G , T H A N K Y o u F o R L e T T I N G u S S T u M B L e A N D G R o W ,

T H A N K Y o u F o R L e T T I N G u S S W I N G F R o M B R A N C H e S A N D C L I M B T A L L T R e e S , I L o v e Y o u .

H e R e ’ S T o B I G G e R L A K e S . H e R e ’ S T o T H e N o R T H . H e R e ’ S T o M o R e K A T I e P o I N T S W e S T . H e R e ’ S

T o M o R e M e M o R I e S , M o R e M A G I C , A N D M o R e A D v e N T u R e S . C H e e R S ! x x — “

d o M i n i q u e , M i k e , a n d i W e r e p r e T z e l - s C r a M b l e - p i l e d i n T h e b a C k o f g u y ’ s r e d s a -

f a r i j e e p a n d T h e T o p W a s d o W n s o T h e M o T o r g u z z l e g a s s M e l l W a s o n l y h a l f

h e a d - r u s h y a n d T h e r o a r o f T h e W i n d T h a T W h i p p e d o u r h a i r i n T o o u r s u n g l a s s

C o v e r e d e y e s W a s l o u d e n o u g h T o d r o W n o u T T h e s o u n d o f C o n v e r s a T i o n a n d

j o h n n y C a s h f r o M T h e p a r T i a l l y b l o W n s u b s . W e ’ d o C C a s i o n a l l y l o o k a T e a C h

o T h e r a n d s T a r T l a u g h i n g M a n i a C a l l y f o r n o r e a s o n . i T ’ d b e e n a r o u g h a n d

W e i r d a n d W i l d s u M M e r . b e a u T i f u l . M a g i C a l , g r i M y , T o T a l l y b r o k e , n e v e r s l e e p -

i n g , a M i l l i o n f o r T i e s , j o i n T s , l o v e , s W e l T e r i n g h e a T , a b a s e M e n T i n T h e e a s T

v i l l a g e , a p a l a C e u p [ u p u p u p u p u p u p u p ] T o W n , b a T h r o o M l i n e T r a n s g r e s s i o n s ,

l o v e M a k i n g , n e W f r i e n d s , W h i s k e y a n d W i n e , p a r k s , n a p s , l i p s T i C k . i T W a s a u g u s T ,

a n d s W e l T e r i n g , a n d h a z y a s h e l l , T h e C i T y i T s e l f W a s a s W e a T y M e s s , d i r T y l i T T l e

p r i n C e s s . T h e b a s e M e n T h a d r e C e n T l y s T o p p e d p r o d u C i n g C l e a n W a T e r , a n d W a s

i n s T e a d g u s h i n g f o r T h s e W a g e f r o M g o d k n o W s W h e r e , a n d T h i n g s W e r e g e T T i n g

W e i r d . T o g e T T o T h e a p a r T M e n T , y o u h a d T o e i T h e r W a d e T h r o u g h a b r o W n M u d

p u d d l e i n T h e h a l l W a y T h a T h a d s T a r T e d g r o W i n g M i d j u l y , a n d p r o g r e s s e d T o a

p o n d o r l a k e l i k e s i z e , o r e l s e T i p T o e C a r e f u l l y o n T h e M o l d i n g o n T h e s i d e s ,

C a r e f u l n o T T o s l i p a n d d i p a T o e i n T o T h e T o x i C s l u d g e . T h e s T o o p W a s g r e a T

T h o u g h , T r e e l i n e d a n d b r e e z y a n d b i g e n o u g h T o s p e n d h o u r s o n , W i T h a r e v o l v -

i n g d o o r o f f r i e n d s W h o ’ d d r i f T b y f o r a s M o k e o r a j o k e a n d d r i f T a W a y j u s T

a s e a s i l y .

T h e s k y W a s p i n k , a n d o r a n g e , a n d T i n T e d W i T h T h a T r a r e p u r p l e b l u e l a v a

s h o C k e r C o l o r , a n d W e r a C e d o v e r T h e g W b r i d g e a n d W a T C h e d T h a T g l o r i -

o u s b i T C h o f a C i T y s k y l i n e d i s a p p e a r i n T o T h e d i s T a n C e , i n T o T h e h a z e , u n T i l

T h e T r e e T o p s o f j e r s e y C o v e r e d i T f r o M v i e W . T o T h e l a k e h o u s e W e r o d e , i n

T h a T r e d s T a l l i o n . g u y d r o v e . T o p h e r s a T s h o T g u n . p a T r i C k T o o . T h e T h r e e o f

u s W e r e i n T h e s e a T l e s s b a C k . i T W a s n ’ T C o M f o r T a b l e b u T W e W e r e u s e d T o i T .

i T ’ d b e C o M e a p r e T T y T y p i C a l r i T u a l T o f i n d o u r s e l v e s a r r i v i n g h o M e T o T h e

e a s T v i l l a g e a p a r T M e n T b a s e M e n T a s T h e s u n a n d T h e s a n e a W o k e , T o s l e e p

p e a C e f u l l y u p o n a h a l f i n f l a T e d a i r M a T T r e s s o n T h e k i T C h e n f l o o r , h a p p y ,

e n C a s e d i n a r u b b e r T a C o , C o n T e n T a s h e l l , s u r r o u n d e d b y g o o d f r i e n d s a n d

e n C h a n T e d d r e a M s . s o M e T i M e s M i k e W o u l d W a l k o v e r u s o n h i s W a y T o W o r k

a n d T h e T a C o W o u l d s h i f T l i k e a s h i p o n C h o p p y T i d e , a n d W e ’ d j u s T s M i l e a n d

b i d h i M g o d s p e e d , g o o d s i r , a n d p r o b a b l y f a l l b a C k T o s l e e p .

W e d r o v e f o r W a r d o n T h a T l o f T y f a M i l i a r r o a d , T o T h e h i d d e n , M e a n d e r i n g ,

M a g i C a l W o o d l a n d p a T h , W e s C r e a M e d ! d e l i g h T ! f r e e d o M ! h o M e W a r d ! o n W a r d !

T h a T W a s T h e l a k e h o u s e . h o M e C o M i n g , s a v i n g u s f r o M o u r b r i l l i a n T u r b a n

d e s T r u C T i o n . T h e l a k e W a s l a u g h i n g b a C k a T u s , W i T h u s , a n d o u r h e a r T s W e r e

f i l l e d W i T h s o M e T h i n g i n e x p l i C a b l e . W e a l l f e l T i T , a n d i T b o u n C e d a r o u n d T h e

C a r l i k e a f e v e r . d e l i C i o u s .

i v. k aT i e p o i n T s W e s T

THANK You FoR ToLeRATING ouR NoNSeNSe BB.KATIe PoINTS WeST. WILD IN THe WooDS.

v. M u d d y r i v e r

We didn’t have jobs again. So when we took on the giant paper mache animal project, we had all that time to put in. No money really, but a lot of man power. A lot of hours. We were making slightly smaller than life-sized sculptures of bears and yaks and swans? and then deer faces and antelope faces and other weird savannah, horned creatures that got skewered on stakes for Muddy River Music Festival. There was something else too. A baby elephant maybe. or a pig.

We’ve been together our whole lives now and we’ve thought up plenty of beautiful proj-ects that have never materialized past a glass of wine, but it’s the stupid ideas that we tend to tackle with an unhealthy brand of enthusiasm. We took a sign language class to-gether in middle school. When, for the final project, the rest of the students each signed a song, Katelyn and I insisted on performing together. And not a top 40s like the rest of the kids, but rather some absurd creation of our own.

I wont repeat the lyrics here, because really no one should have had to sit through them in the first place. The song was a humiliating mashup of inside jokes that didn’t translate to sign. We were terrible performers too. We were totally embarrassed by the stage, but were too young to know that about ourselves. We stood stock still and mumbled, gig-gled, and sloppily signed a demented, nonsensical story about two thieves on the run from uncle Winkie (a delicately drafted alias for our grade school principle Mr. Winkles-tien). Katelyn has a beautiful voice and natural sense of rhythm and melody. Somehow none of this played out in our performance. our song was a tone-deaf proclamation of our uncoolness and became something of a theme song for a friendship that’s lived through countless well-intentioned, but poorly realized dreams.

There was that spoof magic act we did for the 8th grade talent show. Katie was the mute magician and I was her scantily-clad, mute assistant. The ‘spoof’ element may have gotten lost behind our lack of dialogue, and the audience watched uncomfortably as, one after the next, our tricks failed. The handcuffs wouldn’t come off with a wave of the wand, and as that was our first trick, I performed the rest of the skit with my hands bound. When she put me in a cardboard box and made me ‘disappear’, I crawled out the back and across the stage in a small dress, handcuffs, and silent resignation. It was not the hi-larious climax we had anticipated, but rather a weird gesture towards S&M. With nothing to signal that the skit had ended, the auditorium, packed full of parents and teachers, brothers and sisters and classmates- boys we had crushes on, girls we had rivalries with- kept quiet and still, trying in vain to find meaning in our absurd psychodrama.

A video of the talent show captures the final moments of our act. We’ve lulled the audi-ence into such stupefaction that our own parents ‘forget’ to applaud. I had had a crush on Ben Deistel since the 3rd grade. He is whispering to his friends, but in the hush of the auditorium his voice is clear, strong, loud as he says, “well that sucked.”

So we took up the animal project much the same way we took up any of the projects that came before it. No paper and pen stage to figure out how much this was going to cost us (or BB) or how long this would take. We did not draw up any semblance of a plan, nor did we compromise our vision for some more feasible end. We got off craig-slist- stopped looking for a job or an apartment- and I moved in at the lake house for the two or three weeks, 4 weeks?, leading up to the festival- the first few days of which were spent hitting up our respective parents for money and supplies. We stole toilet paper from every bathroom and flour from every pantry. Katelyn made me cold call her neigh-bors for newspaper- an essential material that wasn’t, as we had remembered it, tied in twine and stacked in ordered heaps at the mouth of every garage, but rather frozen behind the icy glow of our laptops and kindles and smarty pants phones. She made me distract Diane while she stole old (and new) christmas (and otherwise) decorations out of the basement. I found a paper mache paste recipe online that called for linseed oil, glue, and toilet paper. I think we threw grout in there, ruining two of my father’s blenders and a handheld mixer. All for a filthy clay surrogate that wasn’t as good as the real thing and impossible to clean once it dried. We let it dry all over the place.

Within a few days we had taken over the entire yard- a wasteland of animal skulls drying in the sun. Marble eyes whited over with cataracts and a rotting smell that wouldn’t waft away, what with the crazy heat of July on Pride Rock. The itch was the worst- of wheat paste cracking at our skin. Sticking our hair to our arms and staining our clothes.

We were pulling 16 hour days. We moved to the garage come nightfall and brought in the yak to string millions of strands of yarn to its flimsy chicken wire frame. We were afraid of the raccoons and we were afraid of the bears and we were afraid of the crazies so we holed up with the doors down and that’s when the spiders happened. Those giant jumping spiders with skin like armor so that when we doused them with Raide they’d just trudge on through the spray and then launch themselves towards us and send us scat-tering. It was a wild scene, defending our yak. Screaming incoherence with the spiders in full possession of their wits and Katie feverishly pursuing them with a mallet. The top on the Raide broke so that the spray wouldn’t stop coming and I dropped it, my only weapon, and it spun around on the floor spewing poison in big clouds that choked us out in no time. Katie got a picture of one of the spiders. A blurry, pixilated, nondescript token of this enemy force and later, lying in bed after we’d said good night a million times, her iphone screen lit up the darkness as she hovered the picture over my tired, weathered face. We laughed a lunatic laugh.

Production was moving quick and these animals were looking real good- their bod-ies mangled by shody construction but shrouded in felt and flowers and washed down with white. our own neglected bodies morphing into those of our children- starved and scratched at, with shards of paper dancing menacingly in our hair.

When you work so long like that your perspective gets a little warpy, and we’d shower upon our creations undue praise, the excess of which saw no bounds. With heads bowing to our work, we role-played the accolades we’d receive when these beasts were unleased on the crowds. If BB made the mistake of crossing our path, Katelyn would demand of him a thourough assessment of our progress, and if he turned the topic in some other, triffling direction such as, Please do the dishes, or Where is your brother? or Are you getting a job?, she’d expertly steer his attention back to the animals.

The doubt came on strong as the festival grew closer. Without warning, I’d spiral into a place of self-abasement. The animals were, in fact, very ridiculous. Amateur. Poorly concieved and over done. They stood, on shaking legs, for our ineptitude and the bleak landscape of our very average futures. I begged her to quit with me and she held strong every time. There was no undoing the army of blind and arthritic animals we had emassed on the lawn. And now that they were done we needed to get them to Salem at the South Pole of Jersey. Money was a problem again. We didn’t have enough for a u-Haul, and Connor had already given us everything he had. And then, when we wrestled enough from our parents, it was too late. The u-Haul distributors were gone home for the day or out of stock or too small or too big. And without missing a beat, Katie called up Poopdeck and told him to leave work early, there’s one u-Haul a ‘few’ towns over and you gotta get it now man before they close and bring it here and load it up and drive it down to Salem. And he does, with us shouting out orders as though we were on our way to the Guggenheim.

And the drive was interesting too, because Poopdeck is keeping it at 45, for the animals, but come on, why the hazards on, all the way, for two hours? Katie and I are in the Yukkon and the Yukkons good for 95 and so when a big truck rolls up next to us, we race along side it, and pass Poopdeck and he don’t suspect a thing. And when he calls later because where are we?, we tell him we stopped off for food, but don’t worry, we’ll catch up.

When we unloaded the truck, the reception was fine. We weren’t asked to give a speech, to pose with our animals for pictures for posts. No one lost their heads over the animals, but no one rolled their eyes at them either. We played it cool. We’d exercise heroic patience while our friends set up camp and settled in and then, “Have you seen the animals?”

The animals came into this world by way of theivery. They survived by way of de-ception. They died at the hands of three thousand wookies, but for two days they were magnificent.

we got to muddy river in pats dad’s shady white rape van. stephen guy toph and i sat in the back, pat drove, sean and pats bro were sitting shot gun. guy was sitting on a lawn chair and the rest of us were refugee style lined up against the left wall of the van, next to the grilled cheese bike and a bunch of sandwich crafting supplies. topher and i split a four loko on the way. the rumors of prep had been pretty intense on katie dominique and conor’s end and we were all anticipating a weekend for the books. when we arrived in the dark we made camp on the outskirts of tent city, on the only part of the gigantic farm that had no grass. we did not move the tent. in this two person tent, we slept [rarely] seven- me, guy, topher, pat, stephen, sean, and pat’s brother. this completely rivaled the palace of one katelyn bischoff who had not only a three room tent, but a second tent beside it, a camper, and a nearby motel room. win. and then, to absolutely no ones surprise, things got weird...

v i . e s C a p e s

v i . e s C a p e s

s o i T T u r n s o u T T h a T M a n y o f u s a r e i M p u l s i v e r u n a W a y e s C a p e

a r T i s T s . i T i s n o T a T a l l u n u s u a l f o r u s T o d i s a p p e a r o n C e o r

T W i C e a s e a s o n , d e s T i n a T i o n u n k n o W n . T h e o n l y T h i n g b e T T e r

T h a n a s M o o T h e x i T i s o n e W h e r e W e d o i T T o g e T h e r . T h e r e i s

n o W a y T o d e s C r i b e a l l o f T h e s n e a k y M o M r i d i C u l o u s f l e e i n g

W e ’ v e d o n e o v e r T h e y e a r s , s o h e r e a r e s o M e o f T h e M o r e

M e M o r a b l e e s C a p e s W e ’ v e M a d e T o g e T h e r .

b u y T h e T i C k e T , T a k e T h e r i d e .

T h e C a T s k i l l s

h o W C h e r u b i C a n d y o u n g a n d i n n o C e n T d o W e l o o k i n T h i s p h o T o g r a p h ? d o

n o T b e f o o l e d . i n o u r M o s T i n f a M o u s p h o T o M e M o r y T o d a T e , W e a r e C a p T u r e d

o v e r s a T u r d a y M o r n i n g C o C k T a i l s M i d h o M e i n v a s i o n s T y l e d e s T r u C T i o n o f T h e

C a T s k i l l s M a n s i o n o W n e d b y M a r g o T ’ s b o s s e s . C h a l k T h i s u p T o y o u T h f u l M i s -

g u i d a n C e . W e d r o p p e d a g i a n T b o T T l e o f r e d W i n e i n q u e e n s i n T h e M i d d l e o f T h e

r o a d p r e d e p a r T u r e a n d i T s h a T T e r e d . o u r M a n i a C a l l a u g h T e r s h o u l d h a v e b e e n

a W a r n i n g s h o T b u T h e s i T a T i o n W a s n o T e n v o g u e . T h o u g h i T h i n k T h e o W n e r s o f

T h e h o u s e W e r e ? j u l i a r o b e r T s W a s a T T h e h o u s e f o r a p a r T y T h e W e e k e n d b e f o r e

s o W e a l l k e p T y e l l i n g j u u u u u u l i a ! ! o r s o M e T h i n g l i k e T h a T .

a n y W a y s , i ’ d a T T e M p T T o d e s C r i b e T o y o u W h a T h a p p e n e d T h a T W e e k e n d b u T i T h i n k

T h e l e T T e r M a r g o T r e C i e v e d e x p l a i n s i T b e T T e r ,

Margot,

We are not happy with the way you left the house. There was a gigantic shit left for us in the toilet that we had to plumge and scrub clean. The stereo was left on and the speakers were humming very loud. There is a yellow an-tique pillow missing from the chair in the third floor bed-room. The pillow was replaced with another pillow- do you know what happened to it?? The shower wasn’t bent but rather ripped out of the ceiling. The floors and carpets have glass clippings and dirt all over - as if no one bothered to take off their shoes or vacuum. There are cigarette ashes all over the house and pot residue in the new baby’s room. The towels left in the washer stink like smoke - I cannot believe that you let people smoke in our house. Someone obvi-ously slept in our bed as it was made incorrectly, the room had cigarettes left on the dresser, and someone left their flip flops by the bed (we didn’t think we had to tell you not to have anyone sleep in our bed). The kitchen was a mess, crumbs all over the center island, and the garbage. was full of empty beer bottles. The back door wasn’t locked, some-one broke Avery’s adironack chair, and there’s more but it’s not worth it...

l a k e g e o r g e

T h e k n e e s h a W p l a C e i n l a k e g e o r g e h a s b e e n a f a v o r i T e e s C a p e f o r y e a r s .

p r e T T y s u r e i ’ v e n e v e r b e e n T h e r e W h e r e a C a r o r b o a T W a s n o T i n s o M e W a y

a l T e r e d . o n C e i M a d e a g r i l l e d C h e e s e f o r s o M e o n e a T a h o u s e p a r T y a n d

C o n o r a n d d a r a g h g o T i n T o a b a d f i g h T W i T h a g u y T h e r e W h o d i d n o T l i k e

C h e e s e . b u T i T W a s o k . a n o T h e r T i M e k a T i e a n d i a C T e d o u T a l l T h e d i s n e y

M o v i e s i n a r o W o u T s i d e i n T h e s n o W i n u n d e r f i v e M i n u T e s . a n o T h e r T i M e ,

M a r y , k a T i e , a n d M y s e l f d o n n e d r o b e s a n d b l o o d y M a r y s a n d d i d n o T s k i a n d

W a T C h e d a l l T h e o p r a h a n d T r i e d T o s h o v e l T h e d e C k , a n d d i d s o r T o f o k a y

W i T h T h a T . M a r g o T f e l l o u T o f T h e M o v i n g j e e p , d o M i n i q u e , k a T i e a n d C o n o r

d u g a C a r o u T o f d i T C h . a p p a r e n T k l y y o u C a n d r i v e T h e r e i n u n d e r 2 0 M i n u T e s

f r o M T h e f a r M b u T n o o n e k n o W s i f T h a T i s T r u e .

T h e f a r M

W h e n n e W s h i T T h a T T h e l a k e h o u s e W a s o n T h e M a r k e T W e a l l p a n i C k e d a n d

g o T r e a l l y n e r v o u s . b u T T h e s a r a T o g a f a r M r e l i e v e d u s f r o M T h e s a d n e s s

T h a T C a M e f r o M s a y i n g g o o d b y e T o b e a r r u n b e C a u s e i T i s p e r f e C T . T h e l a n d

i s b e a u T i f u l a n d W a l k i n g o r r i d i n g T h e T r a C T o r [ i T i s a l a W n M o W e r ] a r o u n d

W i T h C o n n o r a s a g u i d e , s h o W i n g u s T h i n g s l i k e T h e C h i C k e n C o o p , i C e r i n k ,

o r f i r e p i T s i T e , h e a r i n g T h e h i s T o r y f r o M b b , p l a y i n g W i T h T r i p a n d f a l l , a n d

l o v i n g l i f e a n d p l o T T i n g W i T h k a T i e - o u r e s C a p i s T h e a r T s W a n T f o r n o T h i n g .

v i i . T h e g o o d f i g h T

To Katelyn Elizabeth Bischoff, Who possesses the clearest spirit I have known, and whose adventurousness and passion make intense every joy of our friendship. To know you is to love you, and for that chance, I am forever grateful.

With all my heart, Lauren Mary Jakubowicz

Which Dreamed it?

“You really shouldn’t talk so loud,"” K said, rubbing her eyes, and addressing the green-eyed, lanky girl across the sterile room, respectfully, yet with some severity. “You woke me out of oh! Such a nice dream! And you’ve

been along with me, L—all through the Looking-Glass

world. Did you know it, dear?” In that fourth state of consciousness, a state beyond the familiar states of waking, dreaming, and sleeping, that consciousness that transcends all experience”there is where L and K knew each other from. Beyond all perception, thought, and feeling, together their minds had become restful, yet fully awake and alert. They had memories that, successively, would take up days, but they always remained current, on an onward, upward journey to meet at a temple wherein all wisdom and all

good abide.

And with this understanding came the inconvenient habit of best friends that, whatever you say to them, they always want to go on and on. K carried on as if all alone: “If you would only give just a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ or any

rule of that sort,” she had said, “so that one could keep up a conversation ! But how can you talk with a

person if they always say the same thing?”

On this occasion K watched warily as L changed from a girl to a goat and back again,

and it was impossible to guess whether the crayons were drawing ‘’yes’’ or ‘’no.’’

So K hunted among the make-up brushes dressed as chessmen on the table till she had found the Red Queen: then got out of her bed and set her now unfamiliar legs onto the cold floor, and put L and the Queen to look at each other. “Now, L!” she cried, clap-

ping her hands triumphantly. “Confess that was what you turned into!”

“Sit up a little more stiffly, dear!” K cried with a merry laugh. “And curtsey while you’re thinking what to—what to say! It saves time, remember!”

And she caught up the Queen and gave it one little kiss, “Just in honor of having been a Red Queen .”

“Oh L, my pet!” she went on, looking over her shoulder at the guest she had seen so many times before, who was rummaging through the items that had multiplied over the weeks. Turning to the seemingly familiar attendant in the room whom she questioned each time they entered, “When will you have finished with your White Majesty, I

wonder? That must be the reason everything was so untidy in my dream—nurse!

Do you know that you're scrubbing a White Queen? Really, it's most disrespect-

ful of you!”

“And what did you turn to, I wonder?” she prattled on while rambling to the nurse, as she settled comfortably down, with one elbow sinking in the mattress, and her chin in her hand, to watch what little glimpse of the New York City hustle she could see below. Speaking out to whoever could absorb the sound waves of her beautiful, and soft, yet clear voice. She had done everything in her power to keep her mind as sharp as ever”and had succeeded. “Tell me, dearest, did you turn to Humpty Dumpty? I think you did—however, you’d better not mention it to your friends just yet,

for I’m not sure.”

“By the way, L, if only you’d been really with me in my dream, there was

one thing you would have enjoyed—I had such a quantity of poetry said

to me, all about fishes! Tomorrow morning you shall have a real treat. All

the time you’re eating your breakfast, I’ll repeat ‘The Walrus and the

Carpenter’ to you; and then you can make believe it’s oysters, dear!”

“Now, L, let’s consider who it was that dreamed it all. This is a serious

question , my dear, and you should not go on worrying anymore like that—as

if you hadn’t done enough of that already! You see, L, it must have been

either me or the Red King. He was part of my dream, of course—but

then I was part of his dream, too! Was it the Red King, nurse?,” she said as another attendant came in and out of the room, “You were his wife, my dear, so you ought to know—Oh, L, do help to settle it! I’m sure any-

thing else can wait!” L”s mind too chaotic with the other dealings of daily life pretended she hadn”t heard such a thought provoking question, but she listened

to K”s luminous ramblings, that shed light even on the darkest of days.

“Which do you think it was?”A boat sailing off straight and clear,Lingering onward dreamilyIn an evening of the first of the year --

Friend and foe that nestle near,Eager eye and willing ear,Pleased a simple tale to hear --

The cold and dark long since lost:Echoes fade, but out memories shan”t die.Summer will butcher this winter frost.

Still she haunts me, that lucid dream,Alice moving under skiesNever seen, her and I, but share a seam.

The children yet, this tale to hear,Eager eye and willing ear,Lovingly shall nestle near.

In a Wonderland Alice and the Queen lie,Dreaming as the days go by,Dreaming as the summers die:

Ever drifting down the stream --Lingering in the golden gleam --Life, what is it but a dream?

T o k a T e l y n .

f o r y o u a n d W i T h y o u ,

T h i s b o o k W a s W r i T T e n ,

a n d e v e r y T h i n g T h a T

C a M e b e f o r e a n d

e v e r y T h i n g y e T T o C o M e ,

M y d a r l i n g , y o u M a k e

i T a l l T h e M o r e W o n d e r

f i l l e d , a d v e n T u r e d r i v e n ,

a n d l o v e s T r u C k .

y o u a r e T h e n o r T h s T a r

k a T i e , a n d s T r a i g h T o n

T i l l M o r n i n g , o f f T o T h e

n e v e r n e v e r l a n d

W o n d e r l a n d W e i n h a b i T .

f i n d u s T h e r e W i T h o u r

d e l u s i o n s a n d s e a r C h e s

f o r C a b i n g h o s T s ,

a l T e r e g o s p i r i T a n i M a l s ,

T h e C h l o r o f o r M g a M e

a n d T h e s C r a M b l e r a n d

C o v e r i n g o u r s e C r e T s

W i T h f r y i n g p a n s a n d T h e

s e v e n d r i n k C u r e a l l a n d

a r T i s T i C T e M p e r a M e n T s ,

a n d l o v e . . .

W e p o u r o v e r

M e M o r i e s a n d

p h o T o s , a n d

r e a l i z e T h a T T h e

g o o d f i g h T , T h e

o n e W e f i g h T i n

T h e n a M e o f o u r

d r e a M s ,

h a s o n l y j u s T

b e g u n .

a n d T h e f i g h T i s

i n s a n e !

a n d b e a u i T f u l ,

W i l d , l o n g , a n d

h a r d b u T

T o g e T h e r ,

W i T h T h e p e o p l e

W h o l o v e y o u ,

W i T h T h e p e o p l e

y o u l o v e ,

T h e g o o d f i g h T

g o e s o n .

x x x

T i l l T h e n e x T

C h a p T e r .