Updating-ness

My House
2:03 am
Sunday, July 2, 2006
Sing it to me John M.
Waiting for Paul . . .

Since the last time I've written so much has happened, yet nothing much really.

I had a job.
It sucked. Specifically, it sucked small portions of my soul from my body each and every time I had to ask someone for money, which was pretty much the extent of my job description. I deeply respect the people who can canvass for a living, but the ups and down, the financial instability inherently dependent on the generosity of the masses: not so much for me.

So, I quit. Well, more specifically, my mom called while I was at work. Ya know, standing on a corner, bothering people. She asked innocently enough, "How's life?" and before you could say "save the planet" it all spilled out. Then, I'm just standing on a street corner crying, wanting my mom to fix everything. And ya know what? She did. The main problem was that I couldn't feasibly afford to be unemployed. Mom may not be the most generous when it comes to fundage, but she came through here.

10 minutes after quitting, I was serandiptiously called with a job offer from the Hookah bar. I of course accepted.

Tonight was our first full night. There's a staff of seven people total, all of them amazing. Three of us, plus the two managers/cooks/owners. I'm the only waitress. And it's a spectacular place to work. I totally sat around and smoked Hookahs for a couple of hours with my bosses, sipping my free latte, loving life.

I completely agree with Alii's sentiments last summer: this is the last official summer I'm going to have for a while, so I might as well do as little as possible. Three months of vacation are hard to come by in the working world I hear.

Don't get me wrong: I've been filling my time well. My personal enterprises are going remarkably well and I drink a lot of beer pretty much every afternoon. Live music as much as possible. Lots of walking miles upon mile around the city, followed sitting by the lake with Paul. I've seen every sunrise for the past three weekends.

Yes, I've been spending a pretty ridiculous amount of time with Paul (aka: pretty much every day and many, many if not most sweet nights) but for the first time since forever, I'm completely okay with that. Ayse likes to be a doom sayer, pointing to her own tragic tendency to spend too much time with boys, completely abandoning her own life and friends. I don't fear that for me. For one, I'm not like that. Two, I'm not deserting my dear Hyde Park hommies. I'm making new friends as well, and you'd suck if you hated on that. Do I not sleep here very often? Yea. Do I chill frequently at the Devon House? Yup. Do I feel bad for finding another amazing group of people who want to do exactly the same things I do and are fantastically not stuck in any sort of Ivory Tower? No, not at all and don't try to convince me otherwise.

So much upcoming dankness. We're heading to Summerfest some time next week. 10KLF is in three weeks. Disco Bisquits and Umphrey's are playing a late night ALL BEATLES COVER SET during Lollapalooza. Woot.

To sum, I love my life.