I have a suspicion that my texts move in slow motion.
The good news--selfishly, but whatever, she said she was, too--is that Kirsten and I finally had the talk and it seems like we're on the same page. "Seems," I say, because you honestly just never know. I think the main reason I followed through with the impulse, putting aside a general attraction to one another, was because I could sense that we were already on the same page. Heavily disappointed with our past relationships and with ourselves. Like attracts like. Anyway, it was nice to say this out loud to each other. We're not sure exactly what we're doing... But whatever.
It's been strange, this slight twist on my life. Kirsten has brought me to gambling, drinking more often, showing up late to work (three times). None of it do I regret, other than last night's poor outing to the mystery card roulette table, and perhaps the nights I stayed up a little too late with a little too much booze in my brain. It wasn't long ago that I felt like a completely different person. I think it's been a strong push toward a fuller personality. I think it's giving me the edge I've needed.
My internship with Sacramento Press is almost done. December 10 is the date. Next Friday.
Right now I'm working on an article about a hip-hop battle and a political antiques sale. Yesterday I posted the Kings game coverage I did. Perhaps these are the last three articles I write for them, as an intern. I think I'll turn around and start publishing stuff like Lindol French has been doing. He's a funny guy and since he's not an intern or a paid employee, he can write in his own style. I could start doing that, from now on.
That said, I think I've made the choice to try the Peace Corps. I'm working on the application right now and I've just got to write a few essays and find some people to write me letters of recommendation. They could send me anywhere, give me any job, and pay me anything... I really don't care. It's an adventure in the making. I think what's going to happen is I'm going to get Paul to lessen my lease to zero or six months (instead of 12) and fill in "Earliest Join Date" on the application accordingly. If Paul won't let me lessen the lease length, I anticipate another strange twist on my life. There's no fucking way I'm paying 550 without getting some deal in this fuck-over. Either way, I want to leave by May.
Meredith's boyfriend came to town from Santa Cruz, so she's been in a good mood. Apparently they've worked things out. Meanwhile, I've had to delay meeting up with Celena to Wednesday, if not longer, after missing the chance to hang out on Sunday night. Kirsten and I had decided to go back to the casino and by the time Celena texted me, Kirsten and I were getting ready to leave for Thunder Valley. Short story: we left with frowns. The plan is to go back on Sunday after pay day, and hopefully with Sean. The plan with Celena is still forming about Wednesday.
She came in yesterday with a young guy and this older couple. I have no idea how they all knew each other, but I'd also just found out that Celena is an actress. Already I'm weary of her performance-oriented personality, adorable as that performance may be.
The Kings game was a unique experience. Had a hamburger for dinner in the Press Room on the first floor. Wasn't much of a social butterfly in this room of reporters and sports experts, save for my time with the freelance photographer, David Alvarez. From the seductively placed hands of the near-naked chick on his business card, you'd think he photographed pornography, not Sacramento events (or maybe he does). During the game I sat at these white tables on the second tier with a slightly-angled view of the court, flanked by reporters ten to forty years my senior, chatting about basketball stats and Thanksgiving. I chimed in enough to feel like a participant, doing more listening than speaking, but felt pretty good about mingling with the guy from the Observer, and the guy who I thought was from The Bee. I'm always impressed with people who can read sports like the plot of a film, who can understand the strategy and spot the penalties as easily as exposition spelled out on a page. I really wish the Kings would've won. These people came here hoping, but not expecting, the same thing, and when the Bulls beat them badly in the fourth period, they began to leave with disappointment on their faces and deadlines to meet. I found my way home and then went out to meet Kirsten at deVere's.
I guess I'm also going to grow a beard.
Hot Italian is my favorite restaurant in Sacramento. I've yet to have a pizza I haven't mouthgasmed from. I also want to mention that I'm becoming a wine-person. Three out of five times, I'll order a glass of wine instead of a beer. It's like something just clicked in my head. Wine's good shit. I'm digging the Sangiovese, apparently. It's sweet and strong, great for sipping, a nice bold balance to dinner. It was Kirsten's first time there, Sunday evening before the casino.
Worked with Sierra, the new baker girl, who was being trained by Stephanie. Good girls to be around during a dull shift. Sierra's a culinary-school graduate from Roseville, adorable and sweet, and I can't help but consider ways to hang out with her outside of work. Stephanie, always cheerful, even on her stressful days, is a good spirited woman in a web of unfortunate regrets and bad fortune. I lulled about and closed and went home and called Kirsten to have "the talk."
Shaun has another show next Saturday, which I'm looking forward to.
So here's to the Peace Corps, musician friends, lessened leases, great pizzas, casual sex, the second twelve, and red, red wine.
- Left to Fry
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