Back from the dead

That's me, hopefully. This week, after a cripplingly short visit to Maine for "The Kings," I've been paralyzed with lack of motivation, lack of a social life in Martha's Vineyard, stress for the future, and a champion's penchant for napping (i.e. totally wasting my time). Some combination of these factors and others have led to a sour grapes between the Vineyard and I, so I'm hashing some of this out to enlighten you who might be wondering where the exciting travelogues and entries of discovery, self- and island-, have been.

I'm going to New York from Wednesday to Friday of next week. The only full day, Thursday, will serve the purpose of an interview at GQ for a full-time, unpaid fall internship. I'll also start scoping out Brooklyn apartments, even the cheapest of which may take a 90% bite of my meager summer savings. So be it -- an internship at a magazine as solid as GQ is an investment I'm prepared to go through hell (financial, personal, sleepwise) for. When you know there's one thing you can do (write) and you have a destination in mind (have since I was at least 15, reading a videogame magazine cover to cover every month on my bed), you don't have much of a choice but to go for it. Plus, being in New York will not be any kind of hell for me -- I've been wanting to try life there since I first visited at the young age of however old, and being with a few timeless friends from Maine will make all the difference after this lonely island summer, no matter how many hours I'm putting in or how few I'm sleeping. I have a dream, to be a self-respecting writer doing what I was born to do, and when I arrive, the view will be sweet.

I'm ready to be done with Martha's Vineyard. Something about living in a hotbed of summery people enjoying their leisure time and drinking on their boats while I scrape together money for rent, food, and Silas Marner-like saving to move to the apocalyptically expensive New York has not boded well with my system. See also: Swindler's Vineyard, the taste of which never faded from my mouth but rather worsened with the more people I met. See also: Not meeting anyone I'll leave this island considering more than an amiable co-worker, a far cry from the lifelong friends I made abroad and even in a short last year at college. A bonus "see also" would be increasing bitterness over not seeing any celebrities while my friends ring them up at general stores, pass them on the streets and wait on them in restaurants. (Steve Carell! Come on!)

On the up side, I'm focusing on what I need to do to knock 'em dead at GQ and working up the motivation to look at other internships and jobs, trying to write a novel (one handwritten legal pad complete, moving on to the next with gusto), finalizing a new piece of short fiction, continuing to write for my internship, the wedding magazine, and the Morning Sentinel. I also vow to make some fun, blog- and photo-worthy excursions like a trip to Aquinnah on a nice day or deep into Chilmark and West Tisbury on my bike. Maybe I'll see Obama, who'll be holing up in a Chilmark farm, according to the Vineyard Gazette. Lucky him -- the more he can enjoy himself and avoid the ruckus in Oak Bluffs, the better.

Last thing: Switched from my UMaine e-mail to zachdionne@gmail.com. I'll still receive your e-mails if you send 'em to my old address. Just filling you in. Thanks for reading.

Unrelated photo to leave you smiling or mildly amused: Cool rabbit who camps outside my bookstore.