As a jack-hammer tears into the road somewhere around the corner, I sit at the foot of the bed with my feet dangling near the warm face of Holmes, the heater, and wipe the sleep from my recently-awakened eyes. To my right, Kirsten is asleep beneath the soft blue blanket. On the floor: clothes, blankets, wires, art supplies, a box of empty Blue Moons, shoes, all of Kirsten's overnight stuff, the hollowed-out speaker box I found in the alley, the empty jar I took from Old Soul, and the unopened bottle of Gnarly Head Old Vine Zinfandel. Little details of an unrepeatable Tuesday morning in December.
It rained hard on Sunday. Since then, the weather's behaved rather well, as though embarrassed for its temper tantrum over the weekend. Apology accepted.
Lately I've had enough weed to be able to roll joints, and that's never happened before.
Shaun's show on Saturday night was another success. I'll get to that.
Before said show, Meredith and I met up around 5:00 for a pre-party, which lasted until 7:30 and included a delivery from Hot Italian. Never a bad thing to hang out with Meredith, but for the first time I remember feeling conflicted about our relationship. Would it be possible for Meredith to be a true friend-only heterosexual female? I am attracted to her. She has a warm beauty that's a mix between Meryl Streep and Anne Hathaway. At certain moments, I consider myself the luckiest person alive to be in the same room as her, and that's what I think love feels like. It's not scary, but it's powerful, and I let the feeling exist but I don't encourage it further. Meredith is a fantastic friend and she needs strong friends around her, too, as she battles brain cancer. If there's anyone in Sacramento I treasure every moment with, it's her.
At the show, Hank showed up with his girlfriend and Kirsten met us there around 9:20 after closing at Old Soul. I gotta say this: Hank's girlfriend is clueless. I remember the first time I saw her was when I flirted with her over the counter, thinking she was a new customer, and that interaction had been swell. But seeing her this time... Once again reminded me that all relationships are shit. Hank and her don't match and there were too many awkward conversation moments. I can sense how happy Hank is to take a step away from that relationship when he starts training at the Academy (although I'm also pretty sure Hank thinks this girl is The One, which baffles me).
I turned the wrong way on a one-way street on Sunday night when the foggy windshield and pouring rain conspired against me. It could've been the last mistake I ever made, with Kirsten and Sean in the car. I apologize for that.
Lissie Maurus has sent me into an existential crisis.
My internship with Sacramento Press ends this Friday, so far as I'm concerned. On Monday I went in to train the new guy, Zephyr, about how to do the Capitol Events posting. He's a UCSB philosophy graduate living at home in Davis trying to get a job as a barista. This is what has happened to my generation. We go to school like we're supposed to and come out hoping for minimum wage. I told him to apply to Old Soul.
Tammie resigned. She was our main chef at Old Soul and the krazy glue that kept the place together. Not sure what's going to happen now. Maybe nothing much. I have noticed that Tim and Jason are being a little extra-friendly lately. I'm not complaining. Tammie's been jonesing to quit since the day I started working there, anyway, so it's good for her to get away.
Tamara and her friend Jenny came in last night. Tamara is my new crush, this beautiful girl with her Czechoslovakian accent.
On Sunday's trip to the casino, Sean lost about forty. I lost $100. Kirsten, who says she was up $800 at some point, walked away with nothing. Sort of on the same subject: Sunday was the day my existential crisis began, when I first heard Lissie Maurus, when I admitted to Sean how ready I am to move on.
My top three locations: Hawaii, San Diego, Denver.
Last night my wrist began to hurt from using the tamper. I don't want carpal tunnel. Kirsten said, "When that happened to me, I switched hands." To which I said, "I'd rather switch jobs."
At least the Raiders won.
Shaun did great. Our little Old Soul cheering section was equally impressed. Then apparently Shaun got hit on by a 15-year-old. Poor guy... He's more troubled by relationships and women than I am.
- Left to Fry
Tammie resigned. She was our main chef at Old Soul and the krazy glue that kept the place together. Not sure what's going to happen now. Maybe nothing much. I have noticed that Tim and Jason are being a little extra-friendly lately. I'm not complaining. Tammie's been jonesing to quit since the day I started working there, anyway, so it's good for her to get away.
Tamara and her friend Jenny came in last night. Tamara is my new crush, this beautiful girl with her Czechoslovakian accent.
On Sunday's trip to the casino, Sean lost about forty. I lost $100. Kirsten, who says she was up $800 at some point, walked away with nothing. Sort of on the same subject: Sunday was the day my existential crisis began, when I first heard Lissie Maurus, when I admitted to Sean how ready I am to move on.
My top three locations: Hawaii, San Diego, Denver.
Last night my wrist began to hurt from using the tamper. I don't want carpal tunnel. Kirsten said, "When that happened to me, I switched hands." To which I said, "I'd rather switch jobs."
At least the Raiders won.
Shaun did great. Our little Old Soul cheering section was equally impressed. Then apparently Shaun got hit on by a 15-year-old. Poor guy... He's more troubled by relationships and women than I am.
- Left to Fry
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