pickin' pickin' pickin'
pickin' my face! DON'T LET ME DO THAT!
Meg and I are going to the City. On a train. This weekend is Pride. Which means it is a year to the day the last time I was here. There. Weird.
I've been reading and drawing. I've been ruminating on whether or not I have a chance of getting a job, any job, even cleaning the toilets or vacuuming the floors, if I apply to Fantagraphics. I've decided that I probably don't, but I'm going to try anyway. I want to work there SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO bad.
Oh yeah, and since this is supposed to be a journal about our european vacation and not Rachael's Whining About Her Lack of a Job at Fantagraphics Journal, I will relate the following anecdote:
Meg's Mom, Meg and I were all drivin' around town the day before yesterday. We were driving EVERYWHERE. It was very hot! Whoa nellie, was it hot! Muggy, cloudy, walking through a steam room hot! And it was supposed to produce thunder and lightning, which had us excited, because Meg and I both love thunderstorms, but it was a BIG LIE!
So anyway, we stopped at the local grocery store Adam's, where they have an amazing produce selection and an amazing discount bread rack where you can usually find very good bread for really cheap. And when we finished our shopping, we emerged outside back into the disgustingly hot weather, and ON THE PAVEMENT was a STEAK! A big, red, nasty steak, flopped and half-squished on the asphalt. And it had tire-tread marks on it because somebody ran it over with their car. It was surreal. And gross.
Man I am scratching for stories. Basically, what really happens is that Meg wakes up extremely early because she's weird like that. Then I wake up too because I'm kind of a light sleeper. And then we stumble downstairs and Meg's Mom usually makes something delicious and we eat way too much of it. And then ... eh ... a little reading, a little grocery shopping, a little trashy television. Life is pretty relaxed. I'm getting anxious to get back to the west coast because I need money and a job and I want to see if I get work or get rejected at Fantagraphics, which I almost just spelled Fanaticgraphics, because subconsciously I am a fanatic about fantagraphics.
I keep having scandalous dreams.
Meg and I are going to the City. On a train. This weekend is Pride. Which means it is a year to the day the last time I was here. There. Weird.
I've been reading and drawing. I've been ruminating on whether or not I have a chance of getting a job, any job, even cleaning the toilets or vacuuming the floors, if I apply to Fantagraphics. I've decided that I probably don't, but I'm going to try anyway. I want to work there SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO bad.
Oh yeah, and since this is supposed to be a journal about our european vacation and not Rachael's Whining About Her Lack of a Job at Fantagraphics Journal, I will relate the following anecdote:
Meg's Mom, Meg and I were all drivin' around town the day before yesterday. We were driving EVERYWHERE. It was very hot! Whoa nellie, was it hot! Muggy, cloudy, walking through a steam room hot! And it was supposed to produce thunder and lightning, which had us excited, because Meg and I both love thunderstorms, but it was a BIG LIE!
So anyway, we stopped at the local grocery store Adam's, where they have an amazing produce selection and an amazing discount bread rack where you can usually find very good bread for really cheap. And when we finished our shopping, we emerged outside back into the disgustingly hot weather, and ON THE PAVEMENT was a STEAK! A big, red, nasty steak, flopped and half-squished on the asphalt. And it had tire-tread marks on it because somebody ran it over with their car. It was surreal. And gross.
Man I am scratching for stories. Basically, what really happens is that Meg wakes up extremely early because she's weird like that. Then I wake up too because I'm kind of a light sleeper. And then we stumble downstairs and Meg's Mom usually makes something delicious and we eat way too much of it. And then ... eh ... a little reading, a little grocery shopping, a little trashy television. Life is pretty relaxed. I'm getting anxious to get back to the west coast because I need money and a job and I want to see if I get work or get rejected at Fantagraphics, which I almost just spelled Fanaticgraphics, because subconsciously I am a fanatic about fantagraphics.
I keep having scandalous dreams.