The Day I Woke Up Early To The Sound Of Construction And Found Out My Schedule Finally Changed And I Bought A Five Dollar Chair And

I wake around 7:18am, thinking it's later, and listen to Robert drag his door closed and head downstairs to wander off to his "state worker" job. Outside, I notice the monotonous pounding of a jackhammer, the ker-chuck of heavy equipment tearing into the hard concrete in the alley behind the house. It's a little early for hardcore construction, but Sacramento likes to get things done, apparently. I can't complain. The alley is going to look quite nice when it's fully restored. It will go well with my new Grocery Outlet. 

I'm officially moved in, save for one box left behind in Sean's garage. My TV is here, hooked up to videogames and a rarely-used PC. My bed is here, covered in non-matching blankets and two old pillows. My movies are here, filling three rows of a black DVD rack, partially color-coded and arranged by size. Using four milk crates and a pastry box I took from work, I made myself a desk for the netbook, though I've yet to get a chair to complete it with. My Helena Willi painting is hung above it. I have all my books in stacks under the windowsill with the old Smith-Corona and Underwood typewriters on two over-turned milk crates like little museum pieces. The majority of the Stephen King collection is on the shelf in my closet. Also in the closet:: my mini-fridge, which I've stocked with a six-pack of Fat Tire, some cran-raspberry juice, milk, and the makings for peanut-butter jelly sandwiches. There's still room for improvement. Trash that needs to be taken out. I have to figure out what to do with my giant mirror. I need to organize my clothes, somehow.

I put my minimal kitchen items into the empty bottom shelf of the corner-cabinets in the kitchen, making a space for myself in this Victorian dormitory. I also have a toothbrush/toothpaste cup and a towel in the bathroom, which means I officially live here, and it feels good. 

I met Richard yesterday. He said he felt sick, so we didn't get to shake hands. He works for The State, like one out of every four people do in this area, and has only been living here since June. Cool guy. Glad to finally put a face to the stranger in the room next-door, and it's a kind face, and that's good news. Drew and his girlfriend, Amber, tend to have late-night tickle fights that send Amber's giggling laughter downstairs from their attic getaway, but it's not bad. The whole situation feels like College 2.0, with Old Soul as my main focus and Sac Press as a minor. Classes every day with varying hours. I live within walking distance to pretty much everything on campus. All the faces I see and people I meet, they're just other students with their own busy schedules, taking different classes, learning different things. We never really stop going to school, the setting just changes and FAFSA stops sending financial aid. 

My schedule was finally changed at Old Soul. I open on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday with closing shifts on Monday and Tuesday. This means I'll spend a few hours at Sac Press on Wednesday and Thursday, while having the evenings open on the weekend for any homework. Seems better. Tips will be better. I won't be so mind-numbingly bored. My classmates have noticed: Chris, a new friend, brought me a Rubik's Cube to busy myself with. A part of me will miss the monotony, part of me will miss sleeping in, but most of me will be glad to have my evenings, most of me will be glad for the change. 

Today I'm just waiting until 10:00 for the nearest Goodwill to open. I want to get a rickety old chair for my makeshift desk. Then I work from 1:30 to 9:00 and wrap up Tuesday (my new Friday) at Old Soul. I may or may not hang out with Joe after midnight. I still feel like I haven't caught up on all the sleep I need. Sean's coming to visit on Wednesday. I'm excited to have dinner at Chipotle.

That's it for now. Photos coming soon.

- Left to Fry

UPDATE: Just got my chair from a thrift shop on E Street, as recommended by Meredith when I walked to Old Soul for a mocha. Five bucks for this chair! I wrapped it in a burlap coffee sack to make it my own, and it's awesome. Now my desk is complete!

The Day I Finally Connected To The House Wi-Fi And Felt The Urge To Write An Update About My New Life

It seems strange that I haven't written anything yet, though to be fair I didn't get onto the wireless network until after work today, so it wasn't like I could've written anything last night, nothing poignant. So here's a brief run-down of the first two days in my new home (I'm gonna go to bed early tonight so I can wake up early, rested, and meet my mom at Rhonda's to get the rest of my stuff). This is my second night sleeping on the floor on six layers of blankets, huddled beside the slightly-opened window that spills late-night Sacramento sounds and midnight breezes into my bare, hollow bedroom. Anyway...

I love it.

I absolutely love it.

It's an old house with creaky stairs and my door doesn't stay closed unless you dead-bolt it. I get to park inside of a gate and use a gate-opener. The toilet doesn't have a handle for flushing, but rather a plunger on top of the reservoir that does the job just the same when you pull it up. The bathroom sink is one of those sea-shell shaped basins. The fluorescent lights are dancing in their slow demise. The bedroom itself is larger than I previously thought. I'm not sure how I want to arrange my limited furniture when it comes tomorrow. I think I'll take some pictures and post them sometime during the week, since I know my words won't capture the antiquity, won't adequately represent the idiosyncrasies. Anyhow, the verdict is positive.

In other news, I finally had my first-day at Sac Press. It's gonna be a handful, but in a healthy way. 

Really going to bed now. I'm sure I'll have more to say when life smooths out next week. 

- Left to Fry

The Day Before I Moved Out Of Rhonda's House And Looked Through Photo Albums With Jessica On The Porch

That was the last time I'd have to ride my bike down K street from Old Soul to the freeway, the last time I'd have to make that late-night daredevil maneuver across Alhambra to Grenada, the last time I'd see that woman sleeping in the chair across the street from the fire-station with it's one open door and patiently dormant fire-truck parked inside. The last time I'd have to worry someone was going to call in a suspicious character when I pulled up to my dirty car and stuffed a bicycle into the trunk. The last time I drove to a borrowed home in a tiny room. The last time I had to tell someone that I'm "staying with a family friend." The last time I have to brag about my moving situation to others simply to keep myself motivated through weeks of closing shifts. The last time I sleep here. 

I got my last late-night conversation with Jessica. We looked through photo albums. Last time using their bike, which I returned to its spot on the back lawn. So quickly my relationship with that bike ended. I feel like we've bonded in the past two weeks, which only makes me want to get my own as soon as possible. Not a bad first goal. It's almost necessary. So brief, as well, the time I was able to share with Jessica, yet how valuable I hold this shared experience with a lifelong friend. To be housed with her at such crucial moments of our lives, seeing each other like two friends bumping into each other on the subway, getting this brief chance to catch each other up. Jessica's in a committed relationship with a guy I approve of, yet haven completely bonded with quite yet, named Jason. I'm recently out of mine, starting new in Midtown tomorrow. Neither of us exactly where we expected to be, but enjoying the adventure nonetheless. That's all we have, really, is the ability to enjoy the small things. 

It's pretty late. I have to wake up early and start packing the car. Don't let me forget to bring pillows and blankets. I'm gonna be sleeping on the floor tomorrow, it seems, but oh well. It'll help me bond with the room. I'll try and get my TV and games and movies, along with the books already in my car, and at least have something to entertain myself with until my mom comes on Saturday to help me with the bed, the TV stand, the mini-fridge. I think I'll go ahead and turn off the lights, for the last time. 

- Left to Fry

The Day I Detected Karmic Inbalance In The Universe And Dwelled On The Way Friends Come And Go So Quickly Sometimes

I haven't felt sincerely happy for a while. That's my problem. I've felt a variety of positive emotions, but they are balanced by the struggle and frustrations of putting my life in order. What I've yet to come across, however, is actual happiness. There's something terrible about that. 

There's a lot to work on. There's my financial debt. There's my vision of the future. 

I also had that training with Sac Press planned today, but Colleen called and canceled because she was sick and her replacement trainer fell through. I guess it'll happen at some time tomorrow. I'm expecting a phone call in the morning. Sucks that I went to Old Soul early just to get a head start on the day, then had the plans changed just minutes before heading over there. Instead I drove to McKinley Park and read a lot of "Up In The Air," which I wound up finishing later in the night. Everything happens for a reason, though, right? 

I guess Thursday is my official move-in date. That's only a few days away. 

Carlos texted me. Apparently he's been in Chicago for a while, and I was just thinking the other day about how it was a bummer that my new friend suddenly disappeared. So is the life of a coffeeshop barista, however. Everyone's in transit. No one lasts forever. Zoe leaves for Portland on Wednesday and I probably won't be able to say goodbye. I need to not attach so quickly--which is weird coming from someone who detaches without a flinch. Anyway, living in Midtown is going to be awesome, and these next couple days will be torture. 

I tried smiling more today. Smiling just to smile. Doing so made me laugh, which made smiling easier, and it really did improve my mood for a while. I need to learn to harness the power of laughter and bottle it up in my brain. It comes with peacefulness, I think. With tranquility. I've been lacking that. I feel like the positive energy I've been trying to put out in the universe hasn't been echoing accordingly. Not that good things aren't happening. I just feel a weird, intrusive energy pushing against me. It's all a test. Ask for strength and you will be challenged. 

- Left to Fry

The Day I Woke Up Angry And Stayed That Way

I'm angry.

I'm impatient, I'm tired, and I'm annoyed.

That's all.

I think I need a power nap.

Thank God it's my Friday.

- Left to Fry

The Day I Panicked A Little Because The Future Holds So Many Mysteries And I Can Only Hope I'm Ready To Handle It

This is it. 

This is the end of a chapter, the start of something new. I feel like I've been standing next in line for a roller-coaster I've been stoked to ride, yet now that the time to ride has arrived,  I'm suddenly harvesting butterflies in my digestive track. I won't lie and say that none of this nervous anxiety doesn't ignite the flame of regret in the shadow of my thoughts. I've got that newborn put-me-back attitude. I'm standing at the lip of a diving board I never actually thought I'd jump from. Metaphors to cover the fact that I ended a steady relationship and part of me misses the consistency. I'm not changing my mind or anything. I'm just saying that the feeling is there, and it haunts me as Moving Day approaches, and it's planting such nagging questions as "What if this isn't the right thing to do?" and "What if something goes wrong?" and "What if it doesn't make me happy?"

I tell myself that I'm being ridiculous. 

By this time next week, I should be in my new Midtown home. If all goes to plan, I'll be sleeping there after work Thursday night, with or without a mattress. 

After that I get privacy (not that this borrowed room hasn't been private, but it's never felt like mine) and the freedom to decorate. After that, I get to save my tips for other things beside gas and parking (although I've recently defeated the parking fees by riding a bike from East Sac). After that, I see what a year in Midtown feels like. 

It doesn't help that I've had all closing shifts for the past few weeks. That's five per week, in a row. That's a lot of sleeping in, which is a benefit, but a lot of long, drawn-out, tiresome and lonely evenings wasted feeling like a waste, and doing that so often can really wear on my demeanor. I used to come to work as cheerful as a Wonderland oyster. Now I drag my feet and zombie my way through the first two hours until the caffeine kicks in, and then I mindless-task my way to eight o'clock and tick down the minutes until closing time. Put that on top of the depressing drive back to Carmichael, and my weeks of late have been overstocked with buckets of bummer. The month of August has been a draining, yet undoubtedly progressive experience. The sour shell around a sweeter core. 

Tomorrow approaches quickly. Sundays (my Fridays) are my only early shifts. I should have been asleep two hours ago, but sleep isn't really a huge priority these days. Fuck these days. I don't care if I zombie my way through the rest of this week--it's all just gray to me, until I move. This is the commercial break. I'm honestly not paying attention to anything that's happening to me, since it's all going to be stuffed away in some forgotten folder in the back of my mental filing cabinet. All I'm really going to remember from the past two months is Finding a Room and Getting an Internship. Everything else was painful progress, like learning your multiplication tables before taking algebra. 

At least I'm going to bed before midnight. Maybe. I might read for a bit. I'm reading more, recently. Feels good.

- Left to Fry

The Day I Thought A Lot About Sleeping

It's strange how the act of sleeping has changed meaning throughout my lifetime. Sleep used to feel like a time of the day, like a season, like something that would always happen at some point soon after the dropping of the sun. The stars meant sleep. That was the way of the world. There was no choice about the matter, either, with our parents enforcing the policy for most of our upbringing. Waking up in the middle of the night was the most terrifying thing to ever happen to you. All that dark. All those monsters. Who would want to stay up in the night-time, anyway? 

Then you discovered television. Or a computer. Or reading by flashlight, if you were into that. You met friends. You learned to tie your own shoes. Maybe you took the school bus. Suddenly you were finding out that most of your waking life was spent in desks, on enclosed playgrounds, with adults telling you what to do all the time. Where was your free time? The night-time granted you a brief escape from all of that. You began to view sleep as an enemy, and the night as your friend.

Then high school happened. You got your license. You viewed the night as prime real estate to build memories upon. The nights turned into parties and bong rips. The nights turned into sex and alcohol. The nights were when you felt like you could be the teenager that Hollywood showed you how to be. It wasn't all the media's fault. This shit was just fun, and since you had school every day and lived with your family on the weekend, you always looked forward to the nights--plans or not. Even if you weren't out with friends, you practiced mutual insomnia instant-messaging each other until two in the morning. For what? For no reason. Just because we could, and our parents gradually stopped telling us what to do. Sleep was hardly a concern. We were young. We could live off poptarts and starbucks.

Whereas high-school sleep was something you eventually had to bow to, college-sleep was an entirely nonexistent entity. Sleep fell out of our vocabulary in college. Sure, we still did it. It wasn't as though we walked around like zombies. I slept a lot during college, actually, because it was a lot of fucking work and having a steady job at the same time made sleep a welcome escape. But if we ever had to pull an all-nighter, we would--no sweat. Sleep took last place to every priority, provided the circumstance called for it. A party, a road-trip, a late-night walk to taco bell? The excuse could be as small as playing a Mario Party drinking game, or as big as a midnight drive to Bodega Bay. It was an accessory. It was a common alternative for reading all those textbooks we paid a billion dollars for, but it never got in the way of our College Experience.

Now the real world arrives.

Now sleep means something entirely new. The night-time. My whole concept of time has evolved. My priorities, shifted. Sleep gets me through the working-week faster. It also takes time off the clock, however, and The Clock is a brand new thing. The Clock is every moment of the rest of my life, ticking away. Not to be depressing. It's simple truth. I didn't think about The Clock when I was in college, or high-school, or ever, really. Death, yes, but not its gradual approach. I never anticipated this love-hate struggle with the harsher realities of Life After College. The challenge and excitement of it. The ups and downs. The hurdles to jump over in the spreading shadow of passing time.  At once a race and at other times a wading pool. Suffice to say, The Clock changes the value of sleep. 

Sleep is not an enemy. Sleep is healthy, and therefore important, and because of this I do not ignore sleep as easily as I did during college. It is more like an additional challenge. Another thing to balance on shoulders totally unprepared to carry a real life. Here I am, an adult, living on my own dime, in my own story, trying to find peace in complete chaos. I have a full-time job and an internship starting Monday. I have the waves of a recently-ended relationship still splashing in the back of my mind. I have a new home I'm about to move into. New friends. New views of the world. I have all of this, and while all of it feels completely personal and intimate, none of it feels like mine. I constantly feel like I'm existing to accomplish some task, to save up X-amount of money, to work, to pay taxes, to pay bills, to be a part of society. So recently I've made it a goal to use every free moment of my day doing something productive for myself and my sanity and My Experience. This could be reading in the park, taking a walk, writing, or watching a movie. If I'm not tired, don't sleep. If I am, then sleep. Otherwise, the challenge of sleep is knowing how much I can go without it. How little sleep can I get away with? With so much on my mind, it's a shock that I get any sleep at all. The challenge is knowing how much of my real life is worth trading for shut-eye. How much time I can afford. Do I want the week to fly by, or do I want to enjoy it a little? Life changes so drastically, my answer to that question will change each week. 

Part of me just thinks it's a shame to sleep if you're not tired. You shouldn't eat if you're not hungry, right? So if it takes me until two a.m. to get tired, then so be it. Sleep happens.

- Left to Fry

The Day I Tried Writing Poetry Using Nothing But The Album Names From My Current Music Collection

I was bored enough to come up with something clever to try. What follows are all the names of the albums I have in my netbook collection at the moment. I didn't use any self-titled or Best Of Collection names or soundtracks. I just listed every album name in alphabetical order and turned the titles into an ensemble of short poems and phrases. I think it came out rather well. Try it with your collection.

---

40oz. to freedom, 9 beats, a crow left of the murder.

ALPHABETICAL

"Anam cara," and everything changes.


Antics...
Are we just playing around here or do we mean what we say?

Baby darling doll face honey...
begin to hope, brighten the corners

broken bells

brothers

civilian cosmogramma deadringer

Dear catastrophe waitress,

Deja entendu. Demon days, details employment. Everyday, fingers crossed. Get born. Get guilty. Gettin filthy? God loves ugly (good news for people who love bad news). 

- Guero

have one on me

Hello graphic missile:
here anonymous
high violet

if you're feeling sinister...

in case we die...

in time, infinite arms...

intimacy.

"It's never been like that."
"Jet black."
"Junior, keep it hid."
"Kind of blue..."
"Light."
"Light grenades."
 

LISTENER SUPPORTED

live on two legs

living things loosely based on fiction

lost dogs

make yourself manners

midnite vultures, mines

morning view

nevermind

no one's first, and you're next, odelay
of the blue colour of the sky

oh no

ok go on an island, oracular spectacular

pink moon pomegranate

poses power in numbers

prove it

quality control sea change
seven's travels shame, shame...

sigh no more, silent alarm

sing loud. 

sing proud.

Slanted and enchanted, some devil, St. Elsewhere.
teen dream
the devil and god are raging inside me
the dusty foot philosopher
the idiot
the last laugh
the life pursuit
the odd couple
the opposite side of the sea
the suburbs
this could mean trouble...
(you don't speak for the club)
this is happening...
this is war.

 thistled spring

time of no reply

To the sea, travelers in space & time!
Troubador!
Turn on the bright lights, united!

We were dead before the ship sank.

(when life gives you lemons, you paint that shit gold)

Wolfgang Amadaeus Phoenix,

you could have it so much better

you kingdom you

---

The Day I Stayed Up Late For No Reason Thinking About Sac Press And My Relationship With My Bosses And The Construction In The Alley

I'm actually really tired. Some part of me simply won't allow it, however.

But why not? The sooner I go to sleep, the sooner it becomes tomorrow, and the closer I'll be to moving to Midtown. This feels worse than any impatience I felt toward the end of a school year. Time has never moved so slowly. Each day feels like ten. Each hour, a miracle if it passes quicker than a lifetime. Somehow they do come to an end, as this one is now, and yet I still encourage myself to stay up late. Who knows why... I guess it's just years of habit. I guess it's because I get to sleep in, anyway, the bonus of closing shifts. Still, that only makes me think of how stress-free it will be to work at Old Soul when I live right down the alley. This twenty-five minute drive (nearly an hour, in total, each day) is really starting to annoy me. It's not the drive itself, I suppose--since I actually enjoy driving, to be honest--but the cost of gas, the pain of parking, the joylessness of dealing with crappy city drivers. I can't wait to transfer transportation rights to a bike and my two feet. Simplify. I think about all this with such excitement, and yet I still stay up late and I delay this exciting future from arriving. Some things never change, I guess. Maybe spending eight hours standing behind a counter leaves me with a little bit of pent-up energy, fueled by an iced mocha, a cup of black tea, and two pumpkin cream cheese muffins.

I started a second blog, made just for little reviews of stuff. I figured there'd been too many times while writing this blog that I wanted to talk about a movie or a book I'd read, but decided to keep this more about my personal experiences in reality. Anyway, that's been fun to write on, too.

Getting more excited about the internship at Sac Press. Can't believe it's actually going to happen. I wonder how it's going to play out? Will I like it? Will it be too much? Impeccable timing, I suppose, since I'll be a Midtowner by next Thursday. I'll be in the heart of the city. I'll find a bike of my own and ride around town looking for stories to write. I've got a plan to ask every customer about something they'd want to read an article about, and get inside scoop about local issues. I think if Tim and Jay can give me a couple of opening shifts (next month, hopefully), it'll give me more availability to help at Sac Press. I know it'll all work out. I'll make sure it works. It's going to be great.

I think Tim is starting to appreciate me more, which is nice. It's always been hard for me to connect to my bosses in past jobs, and this is the first time I feel like it's something I should work on. I may not be getting paid very much at all, but considering the changes I've been making and the simplicity I'm seeking, I don't imagine that as being a problem right now. I can at least give it a half-year or so before looking around. I need to focus on getting rid of some of that debt, but I also want to get myself balanced again. Switching jobs is not something I want to go through right now. That said, I like the Old Soul company and I genuinely love working at the warehouse location. Great customers, great coffee, great food, and a constant sense of excitement as each day feels a little different than the one before. There is drama. There is frustration. But that's normal. I mention all of this only because I've been paying attention to how Tim acts around me, and I think he's starting to get used to me. The same goes for Jason, as well, who I also think is coming to recognize me as a member of the Old Soul family. So, that's cool. 

12 bucks in tips. Not bad for a slow night. 

The construction in the alley might've been part of the reason. Can't wait until that's done.

- Left to Fry

The Day I Got Accepted For An Internship With Sac Press And Paul Told Me I'd Be Able To Move In Sooner Than Expected

I'm turning to Buddhism.

It's not a shock, really. It's not even much of a change. Buddhism encourages a lifestyle and frame of mind that comes naturally to me. Inner-peace for outer-peace. Positive energy, positive emotions. Be the change you want to see in the world. Dispel negative emotion. Rid yourself of superficial connections. Realize you are energy trapped in a body, trapped in time. Love each moment you're allowed to exist. Enjoy life. Enjoy the company of others. Enjoy everything. Be happy. Embrace changes. Don't criticize others. Don't worry. Take care of your body for as long as you can, but understand it will not last forever. Breathe. Relax. Put forth positive intentions and the universe will react accordingly. Do no harm. Have desire, have wishes, and fulfill them--but never at the expense of others. Be the smile that provokes others to smile with you. The contagious laugh. Pay attention to your aura at present and less attention to the stress of time. There is no time.

They're opening a Midtown Grocery Outlet across the street from my new home. It opens on Thursday. Just one of a thousand incredibly convenient things about the location.

Yesterday I took Sean down there to show him around (trying to convince him to move to Sacramento after me) and we sat on the lawn in front of the Capitol smoking his new e-cigarette, popping spearmint tic-tacs, and listening to the Rolling Stones. We people-watched for a half hour. Sacramento, I told him, is like mild salsa. Not boring, not overwhelming. It's a starter city. It's not too loud, it's not too quiet. Tall buildings, lots of trees, friendly people. Fantastic weather, for the most part. After showing him Old Soul and my future home, we headed out to Arden Fair to see the new Scott Pilgrim movie--one of my favorite films of the year. Then we drove all the way back to Auburn and Sean was reminded of how badly he wants to move out of his parents' house, and I can only hope his visit to Midtown showed him what possibilities await him there. I know I can't wait for those keys to be in my hand. I have fully embraced this transition as exactly the right thing that I should be doing, and I can't wait for the whirlpool of unsettled thoughts and goals in my mind to find a place to rest when I have a space to live again.

This morning I got a call from Colleen at Sac Press. I start training for an internship next Monday at 1:00pm. Paul also sent me an e-mail saying I could move in as soon as next Thursday, a day earlier than predicted. The universe provides.

- Left to Fry

The Day I Started Riding A Bike To Work From My Parked Car In East Sacramento And Paid More Of My Deposit After Meeting A Friendly Security Guard

A list of things tonight before I fall asleep:

1. I appreciate Obama's view of the Manhattan Mosque. Read about it here. For someone who wouldn't be surprised to find out that 9/11 was a big conspiracy anyway, I think it's ridiculous that we're going to prevent American Muslims from organizing near "Ground Zero" simply because of a handful of radical nut-jobs and their misguided cry for attention. It's been almost a whole decade since 9/11. Grow up, New York.

2. Can we just please, please, please stop putting restrictions on marriage from now on? If Prop 8 doesn't stay overturned, I'm going to lose a lot of respect for this country.

3. I can't believe I bought another Big Chicken Sandwich from Jack in the Box. It was worse the second time. The good thing is that all this bad food is really inspiring me to go full-force with the healthy-stuff-only motto I plan to embrace when I move to Midtown.

4. Speaking of Midtown... I paid more of my deposit today. $460 to be exact. That leaves me with $370 to pay for first month's rent (unless I move in early, in which case it's about fourteen bucks per day). The amount is less than I expected, which is wonderful, and with my next check I should even have a little bit left over. Taking care of this also put me in a ridiculously good mood. Progress feels great. Paul seems pretty sure that I'll be able to move in on the 27th. That's only two weeks away.

5. I want to thank the parking lot guard at the Wells Fargo on 30th and Capitol because I asked him to please watch over my bike while I was in the bank, and the guy totally stood right next to it for ten minutes. Thank you.

6. Oh, right, so I borrowed a bike from Rhonda and Bryant. Drove it to East Sacramento, parked, and then rode it to work today just so I wouldn't have to pay for parking. Heck, I even got some exercise out of it. Introduced me to the bicyclist's point of view of Sacramento. I liked it. Pretty decently spaced bike lanes. Easy to navigate the grid. Of course I've heard horror stories of people getting hit, but I like to think I'm a fairly safe rider. When I get the chance, I'll be buying my own bike and I'll outfit it accordingly to make sure I don't become a grim statistic. Got lost on my way back from work, but it all played out smoothly. Whenever you get lost, you just have to remember the alphabet.

7. That's pretty much it for now.

- Left to Fry

The Day I Hung Around The Capitol After Work With Plans To Get A Beer That Never Happened And I Struggled With My Lack Of Human Connections

17 more days.

I took a stroll through the Park at 10:15 pm to sit on the front steps of the illuminated white Capitol Building and watch the bats dance in the air beneath the dim stars of an oddly scented Thursday night. A cop asked me if that was my car parked in the circle, whatever that means, and I said no, and that was the only human contact I had after leaving work. I wanted to test the limit of my fragile heart strings. I succeeded. This is me at my most misplaced. I feel wretchedly incomplete. I need my space back. My car is the closest thing to a home I can count on, and yet I think it hates me. Did I mention the battery died a few nights ago? So much of me wanted to find a patch of isolated grass to lie upon and sleep away the dark hours of a timeless existence. Tomorrow I get paid. Tomorrow I pay more deposit. Tomorrow I struggle to cope with commuting. I can't figure out if I'm overwhelmingly happy with the realignment of my life or simply overwhelmed.

I forfeited to comfort and returned to Carmichael tonight.

I don't want to be here. I want to be in my new room. I want to be 100 steps away from work and I don't want to drive anymore. I hate it. I really do. I'm quickly descending (or ascending) into a state of mind where cars aren't allowed and pedestrians always have the right of way. We don't walk enough in the cities we pretend to call home. We don't stop at 11:00 pm on a Thursday night and admire the architecture of our State Capitol. We don't watch the bats. We just don't.

I do yearn for human connection. I do. We all do. But I have 17 more days before I've got my balance back and until then it's "Hi, how are you?" and "What can I get for you?" My socialization goes as far as taking drink orders and attempting latte art. There are some customers I've bonded with. I'll name-drop just to make myself feel better: Gabby, Drew, Jay, Mark, Chris, Alvaro and Monica, Heather, Dave, Peter. There could be more. It's getting late and my better mind insists I get some sleep. My rebellious fuck-all attitude of late is telling me that sleep is for pussies and still wants that beer it never got to drink. We can thank a too-hopeful heart for that.

Tomorrow is Friday. My Wednesday.

I want to explode. In 17 days, none of this dreadful nothingness will matter.

That last statement sounded a little too suicidal. I don't mean for it to. In a way, however, it will be the end of a Chris Fryer that I've come to know quite well. A Chris Fryer who follows in the currents of others. A Chris Fryer who does as he expects others expect of him. In 17 days I'll be done with that guy. In 17 days I'm outta here.

- Left to Fry

The Day I Started Counting Down The Days Until I Move Out And Made A Few Goals For My Future Self And Dwelled On The Concept Of Time

Sometimes I don't feel like sleeping. Sometimes I'll stay up late and keep re-writing blog entries until I feel like I've written something worthwhile. This is the closest thing to a journal I've kept in a long time. Sometimes this is more relaxing than sleeping.

June was the month it all crumbled.
July was the month it all changed.
August was the month it all settled.

I knew that 2010 was going to be an important year.

It started with getting fired from Creekside. It evolved into overwhelming stress. It turned into the end of a long-term relationship. Next, the consolidation of jobs, the craigslist hounding, and the eventual deposit for a room near Old Soul in Midtown. All of this in a matter of 3 months. One summer. A blink of an eye, in retrospect.

Here I am, still in Rhonda's spare bedroom.

I am officially 19 days away from moving into my new home. Yes, I know it'll get here sooner than I can imagine. Time has a funny way of doing that. But I can't help but focus on the fifteen closing shifts I'll be working before then. The additional payments toward the total move-in cost (roughly 1000 dollars). The parking fees. My parking ticket. I can't help but grumble about gas prices. I can't help but wish the next 19 days would magically disappear and tomorrow I'd have my own bedroom to sleep in. My own space. My own life.

I feel completely self-aware of my impending re-birth and it's driving me insane. I'm obnoxiously impatient--so much so that I can't even sleep. My thoughts are too distracting to focus on my writing (except for this, of course). I tune into movies and the internet and the occasional chapter from Ender's Game. I'm trying to keep my mind busy. It's during late nights like tonight when all the thinking catches up to me. In 19 days I will step out of this shell of Past Chris and burst forward as an entirely new person. I can feel it the way a moth anticipates its shiny new butterfly wings. I envision myself driving less, saving more, enjoying life, making friends, branching out, getting connected, and loving everything. I took a walk through Capitol Park a few days ago and it was one of the most tranquil, wonderful things I've done in a long time. I expect to do that a lot more. I only have to wait a few more weeks.

One of my new goals is to become more physically flexible. Stretching every day. Maybe a couple yoga poses here and there. Then I'll start jogging (I mean it, this time) or riding a bike. I'll eat more granola. I'll eat more vegan food. Less unnecessary sugars. As little fast-food as possible. And hell, maybe even a little less marijuana. I've already decided not to buy any--though mostly because I need every penny for September's rent. Overall, I want to stop appearing healthy and actually become healthy. I'm a skinny guy, but that doesn't mean anything if I'm not taking care of myself.

I also need to start looking into what kind of plant I want to get for my new room.

Quote of the Week: "We are trapped inside of bodies, trapped inside of time."

- Left to Fry

The Day I Found A Place To Live And Finally Felt Good About All The Chaos That Surrounds Me

It's official. My future is starting to take shape.

It begins with a place to live. It begins with a deposit.

Then I move to Midtown.

Next: decorating, designing.

Afterward, acclimated, comes the plant.

Guests. Bonfire gatherings.

The soundtrack of Sacramento out my window.

Walking 30 seconds to work.

Coffee. So much coffee.

My new friend and house-mate, Drew.

An old three-story Victorian home with aged charm, personality.

No more driving. Thank God.

Restaurants. Bars. Friends.

Simplicity.

A few more weeks of living in a room in Carmichael...

A few more weeks of closing shifts.

Writing about robots and love.

Working full-time.

A teacher? Go for my Masters? An internship?

To Do: Pay off credit card. Pay for parking ticket.

Need: Start saving money.

Want: Peace, good karma, and a record player.

- Left to Fry

The Day I Drove Downtown With Nothing To Do And Got A Parking Ticket While Waiting For Zoe To Get Back From Marin To (Maybe) Decide On Where I'm Going To Live

It's official. I'm freaking out.

It's been one month since AJ and I broke up. On the fourth, it will have been a full month since I've moved out. A month since I had my own space. A month since anything felt even the slightest bit normal. Change is never easy. I know this. It sucks ass.

I am sitting in Old Soul right now because it's the closest thing to a home that I have. No offense to Rhonda and Bryant, but staying in their house has been the most awkward and uncomfortable experience of my life. Not every moment of it, no. There are good points--mainly the fact that I have a roof to sleep under and a bed to lay on--but I can't connect to anyone (other than Jessica, but that's a given) and I can't quite relax. I've been having trouble sleeping. I've been having trouble spending any amount of time in Carmichael that I can't be spending somewhere else, even if I have nothing to do, like today. It doesn't fulfill anything to spend my off-hours at work, and is actually kind of embarrassing, but I honestly don't know what the hell else to do. An hour ago I was driving aimlessly through Downtown Sacramento pretending like I had somewhere to go.

I got a parking ticket earlier.

I'm thinking of going to see a movie at the Tower Theater at some point. I'm supposed to go see Zoe's apartment again when she gets back from Marin, but she's a flaky character and I'm not sure when that's going to be. Hopefully not too much later than 4:00. I'm planning on getting drunk with Sean later tonight in Auburn. This is my life right now. This is all that I can come up with. This feels so weird.

There is still plenty to be happy about. I try to focus on those things. I have a job, I am making new friends, I'm healthy, I still have a car, I still have my family. But I need more money. I need my own place. I need to feel like I've got my shit in order.

My biggest struggle right now is figuring out how to move out.

Of course Plan A is to go to Zoe's place when she moves, but she might not move on the 11th as planned (if she gets the job in Marin), which means... I dunno. It's a nice place. It's close enough to walk to work. But I can't handle too much more of this free-floating life. I'm not homeless, but if home is where the heart is, then I'm more homeless than I've ever been. In the meantime, I keep looking on craigslist for rooms to rent, but stop myself when I realize that I have no idea how much money I'm going to have when the time comes for rent and a possible deposit. Even with Zoe, the supposed 600 dollar payment might be a stretch, especially after helping AJ with rent this month. Please don't lecture me about how that's a dumb idea, because I've heard it enough, but AJ and I decided this was how it would work and there goes another 375 down the drain. It hurts, believe me. But no one said this was going to be easy. Change never is.

Well I guess that's it for now. Gonna get myself a sandwich and try to calm down.

- Left to Fry