So I found a new looking bluetooth earpiece on the ground on the way to work. No one was nearby and it didn’t seem likely that I would find the owner so I kept it. Is it sad that getting/finding this perked my day up considerably? I thought so.
So… I stopped posting. I forgot my password at first and then I frankly lost interest and realized my life was pretty boring and I didn’t actually care enough to chronicle it for the imagined few. And yet, I return, for no apparent reason.
I might as well offer a rundown on my current state of nonentity.
My job: dull, unending, but strangely secure and well paying considering downturn of economy and general listlessness of performance.
My apartment: crappy but cheap as hell. I sublet to an endless stream of roommates who generally end up moving in with their much older boyfriends in order to get free rent.
Current life: I am mainly just trying to motivate myself to re-take the GREs and apply to grad school (if I can get an assistant-ship) for an Ph.D. in English Lit or I will get my Library Science degree and bid a final goodbye to the existential wasteland that is an office job. Outside of working I drive, drink (not concurrently, obvs.) and explore the NorCal SF bay area with varying degrees of success. I enjoy whiskey, vodka with seltzer and lemon and beer. I read almost anything that peaks my interest, quickly and often at the gym.
Consensus: I am kinda boring. And not really very funny. Oh well. I am also perpetually sleep deprived, so hopefully what is stated in this blog will consist entirely of crazy sleep deprived rants.
As per usual, my classy apartment is overrun YET AGAIN, so instead of sleeping my hungover ass gets to clean my apartment from top to bottom and set up these lovely traps all over ye olde flophouse. You get what you pay for, I guess.
I waited something like 10 minutes outside of the private ladies room in an almost uniformly male gay bar in the Castro. Finally, the door opened and not one, but three guys all file out at once, with mildly sheepish glances toward me. I spoke to a couple of the guys outside the loo later that night, as the bathrooms were still taken and someone was visibily weeping in one of the stalls. As one guy left the ladies’ room, we get introduced and he nods me toward the now empty stall.
“We lowered the seat for you sweetie. Are you going to hover?”
I love this man.
I ended up crashing at my friend’s place this weekend (the BART stops running at 12:15 EVERY night, which basically kills my social life). My friend’s apartment is much nicer than mine, but directly over a nightclub that plays endless techno. The whole floor shakes in tune to the beat until roughly 4am. Luckily, I was too drunk to notice and successfully passed out around 3am. Sunday was beautiful. It was east coast mid-May weather. We stumbled to a cafe for breakfast and ran into a mutual friend and spent the rest of the day just walking around the city. We both forgot entirely about St. Pat’s and only caught on upon entering packed bar after packed bar in the Castro. A shot of Jameson’s was $3 a pop. A lovely day, all in all.
So I am heading to SF tonight to attend a friend’s going away party. She realized a month back that she could no longer afford to live in the city, and so she’s moving back east for a few months to wait it out with friends and relatives until fall (when she will head to grad school). I know this is the best thing for her, but that does little to improve my mood. She is one of the few friends I have here who is as ambivalent about long term romantic relationships as I am. Instead of having to ask her live-in boyfriend/fiance/fuck friend along whenever we go out drinking as I do with everyone I know now, we go out alone together and drink and bitch about our shit jobs. Then we have long semi-coherent talks about how impossible it would be to be able to stand someone for more than two months. I never thought I would find someone as fucked in the head romantically as I am, and now I have, and she’s leaving. Oh well.
