East of Providence

prov⋅i⋅dence

–noun

1.	(often initial capital letter) the foreseeing care and guidance of God or nature over the creatures of the earth.

2.	(initial capital letter) God, esp. when conceived as omnisciently directing the universe and the affairs of humankind with wise benevolence.

3.	a manifestation of divine care or direction.

---

Origin:
1300–50; ME < class="ital-inline">prōvidentia foresight, forethought. See provident, -ence

Prov⋅i⋅dence

  a seaport in and the capital of Rhode Island, in the NE part, at the head of Narragansett Bay. 156,804.

I packed my car and drove up to East Providence last Tuesday; knowingly, I was not feeling well; unknowingly, I had a fever of 100.9. By the time I arrived in Bristol, RI, it was all I could do to give Casey a big hug, before passing out in her bed for the next three days. She is a good nurse. After a trip to the doctor's and some strong antibiotics, she pushed fluids and rest on me till I was well enough to move into my own place. While I will still be on the medicine for a few days, both my appetite and strength are already returning to me.

I have not yet acquainted myself with my new city, nor has Providence seen my true face. From my vantage point over the bridge in East Providence, Providence seems like one of those cities set in a snow globe, only substitute rain for snow. There are few skyscrapers, and a lot of bricks--I like bricks.

Although I have only been here less than a week, I have seen two shows already and opted out of a third. Friday night, I attended a Millis, Massachusetts, community theater performance of Grease, unedited, with 14 year-olds delivering lines about "gangbangs" and teenage pregnancy. It was awkward. After that experience, I opted out of a Saturday night performance of The Bald Soprano at Roger Williams University, as an Absurdist play would have drained the little bit of strength that had returned to me. Last night however, I saw a very powerful perfomance of The Secret Rapture by the Trinity Repertory Company, and my faith in live theater has been restored, a little. I'm sure after tonight's show by members of the Second City troupe, I should be recommending live performances again.

Wax On, Wax Off, Wax Philosophic

Within the week, I am moving to East Providence, Rhode Island, where I will be renting a basement apartment from a Rabbi and his wife, who has purple hair. The apartment needs some work: the ceiling has exposed pipes and water-damaged tiles, the carpet could use either a good vacuuming or a good tossing (I'm not sure which yet), the single bed needs to be replaced with the wobbly futon which sits just outside, etc. My hope is to turn this apartment into a hookah den, with an Arabic motif. Hang a tapestry over the exposed pipes ... ... I really don't know much about Arabic interior decorating.

The reason I am moving to Rhode Island is to be closer to Casey. It's been hard being apart for all of this time, and the more we have to say "goodbye" to each other, the more difficult it becomes. We've become even closer since our travels through Europe; we now have the kind of intimacy where I can lay on my stomach chatting with her roommates while she waxes the patch of hair on the small of my back. True story.

So, once again I am making my preparations for another big move. In the midst of packing, a lot of things are getting donated to Good Will, items that have not been used or worn in years, and have only lasted this long for the scant sentimental value they hold. It's good for the soul to get rid of these things. Years ago, when my OCD was worse than it is now, I used to keep my finger and toe nail clippings. I did this for years, every one. There is an actual DSM-IV medical diagnoses for this condition, but it escapes me now, although I know that it is categorized under Compulsive Disorders. Yep, finger and toe nails. My urine, for a short time. A bag of feces outside under the deck--only one time.

I have a chronic condition in which my ears produce an excessive amount of wax. Every 4-6 months or so I have to flush them out, and every time, a black mass, a little smaller than a dime, washes out into the bowl under my ear; I used to keep these too. This week, I took a picture instead, threw the mass away, and thought about how healthy I've become. :)