...like a cocoa spoon through chocolate ice cream...
It's been a while, I know. I keep thinking of things to write all the way from "Oh my God, I made and ate the most terrible boxed crap ever and how unfortunate it's what most of America eats," and "I started training for the Boilermaker (a little race hosted up in these parts) but strained my knee on the second run, after buying new shoes and not stretching because I was stupidly feeling self-conscious at the gym," all the way to, "I start school in two days to finish my Associates after a five year hiatus. My classmates are going to be so young," and, "Holy crap, I'm going to Florida in February! A real vacation-type vacation! I've never been there! I'm very excited!" So, even while I was prowling around the internet looking at cool stuff (This! And this! And THIS!) thinking, "Boy, I oughtta put these up on the ol' lj," I was postponing it because I had Blogging Inertia. How lucky you are, boys and girls, that there is a full moon coming up.
I'm always surprised when I get insomnia around the full moon. I don't know why I'm shocked anymore.
Taking a quick peek back, I see that my last post, save my announcement for La Gringa's Fiesta, was in August! Good Lord, that's a long time ago. Let's reveiw some things that have happened, in no particular order:
I moved out of the proverbial literal barn and onto the main drag of the swank city. The glitz! The glamour! The unrelenting...cold. It is fucking cold. But I did move into an apartment that included heat. And water; oh the long, hot showers. Baths so hot they take me five minutes to sit down. Showers and baths in the same day! Ultimate indulgences, for sure. I like the place. I love that I don't have to shovel. I wish my roommate and I were on better terms. I really have no idea what happened. Things unraveled so quickly! We were friends, we decided to move in together, she totally abandons me for her boyfriend, rarely sleeps here, and after I asked her to do something about her loud, meowing, scratching, annoying cat, now she wont look me in the face or basically acknowledge my existence! Sure wish I hadn't signed a year lease now, boy-o.
La Gringa's Fiesta was the shit! OH. MY. GOD. I don't like Christmas, but I do like margaritas, especially at this little Mexican restaurant right around the corner from where I'm working now. So, I rented it out and invited lots of people to come drink with me. The owner decided to have his party on the same night, so a whole lot of people came and drank margaritas and ate delicious Mexican food, and then the baby Jesus was born. The next day I went into the work xmas gathering, and was greeted with a round of applause. Let me tell you what, those people were hung the fuck over. It was AWESOME.
Also, Happy New Year! I'm unpunctual, as usual.
I got rear-ended in Philadelphia! I was down for a Harvest Dinner in November, and I swear, I wasn't even two minutes away from where I was going. The guy, young guy-college kid, was like, "If we can figure this out outside of insurance, that's be great," and I said, "Sure thing, let me just get your information anyway," it ended up being $1300 in repairs, which, a) Jesus, the bumper's just a little bent! That's crazy! and b) if I still had my Volvo it wouldn't have even scratched, however b-sub-1) my Volvo probably wouldn't have made it to Philly at all. I'm glad I did get his info, 'cause he started dodging my calls. To all my loves in Philly, I wasn't there for twelve hours even. I'll be back though, on my way down to or up from Georgia for Pesa in April.
Becka and I are steadily teaching yoga now, three times a week. We teach together, and it is a ton of fun. We have the zany class. We listen to good non-yoga music, and laugh and crack jokes. The massage end of things is busy, which is simultaneously good and bad. Good, because it means money (sometimes), bad because among some issues I have with the company, I'm over massage. I don't think I'll ever give it up completely, and there is a definite place for it in healing, it's just not what I want to do anymore.
I had the worst sex of my life. I hope. Because if it can get worse, I don't even want to know. Seriously. I don't think it counts. It doesn't count, right? I don't think it should count. Where's that Irishman?
VBLP's opened it's third incarnation! It's not called that anymore, but I still call it VBLP's, or Junior, or just The Coffeeshop. I went to the opening night and the first-again Sunday night open mic night. Hello, throw me back five years instantaneously. Seriously. It was so, so, so very weird. So, those of you who weren't around back then (most of you) VBLP's was one of my former places of employment. I was a coffee-pusher, or as they say now, barista. (That word makes me think of a Bostonian addressing an English lawyer... It's a funny picture in my brain!) It was the birthing house of the development of my social mores, even more than high school. Oh, the drama. Oh, the lust. Oh, the God-awful pay for dealing with customers who need to check themselves, like woah. I was back, in a different space that held the same vibe, and DAMN. So much craziness. There were people I'd since slept with, there were people I was relieved I was never going to see again, there were people that I was very happy to see again after so long, there were actually a lot of people there that I've worked with professionally, too. Looking around, I knew on average seventy-five percent of the people most of the night. CRA-ZY, seriously.
I haven't been cooking very much lately. That makes me a little sad.
I really wish it were nice out. I really want to play in the garden.
I've mended some fences with a couple different people in my life, which I'm pleased about. We'll see where it all ends up, but for now, I'm very happy to have been able to say my piece finally.
I'm building new bridges: hoping that I get to meet a couple of my lj-idols in my travels this year, hoping to meet at least one neat person in each class to help me survive, trying to maintain contacts in other areas so that when I really am ready to leave here again I've got some life lines.
All in all, things are going very well. I am steadily moving forward, while still taking time to play on the side. And now, I have to try to sleep, because it is a quarter after three in the morning, and I have to teach in six hours.
I'm always surprised when I get insomnia around the full moon. I don't know why I'm shocked anymore.
Taking a quick peek back, I see that my last post, save my announcement for La Gringa's Fiesta, was in August! Good Lord, that's a long time ago. Let's reveiw some things that have happened, in no particular order:
I moved out of the proverbial literal barn and onto the main drag of the swank city. The glitz! The glamour! The unrelenting...cold. It is fucking cold. But I did move into an apartment that included heat. And water; oh the long, hot showers. Baths so hot they take me five minutes to sit down. Showers and baths in the same day! Ultimate indulgences, for sure. I like the place. I love that I don't have to shovel. I wish my roommate and I were on better terms. I really have no idea what happened. Things unraveled so quickly! We were friends, we decided to move in together, she totally abandons me for her boyfriend, rarely sleeps here, and after I asked her to do something about her loud, meowing, scratching, annoying cat, now she wont look me in the face or basically acknowledge my existence! Sure wish I hadn't signed a year lease now, boy-o.
La Gringa's Fiesta was the shit! OH. MY. GOD. I don't like Christmas, but I do like margaritas, especially at this little Mexican restaurant right around the corner from where I'm working now. So, I rented it out and invited lots of people to come drink with me. The owner decided to have his party on the same night, so a whole lot of people came and drank margaritas and ate delicious Mexican food, and then the baby Jesus was born. The next day I went into the work xmas gathering, and was greeted with a round of applause. Let me tell you what, those people were hung the fuck over. It was AWESOME.
Also, Happy New Year! I'm unpunctual, as usual.
I got rear-ended in Philadelphia! I was down for a Harvest Dinner in November, and I swear, I wasn't even two minutes away from where I was going. The guy, young guy-college kid, was like, "If we can figure this out outside of insurance, that's be great," and I said, "Sure thing, let me just get your information anyway," it ended up being $1300 in repairs, which, a) Jesus, the bumper's just a little bent! That's crazy! and b) if I still had my Volvo it wouldn't have even scratched, however b-sub-1) my Volvo probably wouldn't have made it to Philly at all. I'm glad I did get his info, 'cause he started dodging my calls. To all my loves in Philly, I wasn't there for twelve hours even. I'll be back though, on my way down to or up from Georgia for Pesa in April.
Becka and I are steadily teaching yoga now, three times a week. We teach together, and it is a ton of fun. We have the zany class. We listen to good non-yoga music, and laugh and crack jokes. The massage end of things is busy, which is simultaneously good and bad. Good, because it means money (sometimes), bad because among some issues I have with the company, I'm over massage. I don't think I'll ever give it up completely, and there is a definite place for it in healing, it's just not what I want to do anymore.
I had the worst sex of my life. I hope. Because if it can get worse, I don't even want to know. Seriously. I don't think it counts. It doesn't count, right? I don't think it should count. Where's that Irishman?
VBLP's opened it's third incarnation! It's not called that anymore, but I still call it VBLP's, or Junior, or just The Coffeeshop. I went to the opening night and the first-again Sunday night open mic night. Hello, throw me back five years instantaneously. Seriously. It was so, so, so very weird. So, those of you who weren't around back then (most of you) VBLP's was one of my former places of employment. I was a coffee-pusher, or as they say now, barista. (That word makes me think of a Bostonian addressing an English lawyer... It's a funny picture in my brain!) It was the birthing house of the development of my social mores, even more than high school. Oh, the drama. Oh, the lust. Oh, the God-awful pay for dealing with customers who need to check themselves, like woah. I was back, in a different space that held the same vibe, and DAMN. So much craziness. There were people I'd since slept with, there were people I was relieved I was never going to see again, there were people that I was very happy to see again after so long, there were actually a lot of people there that I've worked with professionally, too. Looking around, I knew on average seventy-five percent of the people most of the night. CRA-ZY, seriously.
I haven't been cooking very much lately. That makes me a little sad.
I really wish it were nice out. I really want to play in the garden.
I've mended some fences with a couple different people in my life, which I'm pleased about. We'll see where it all ends up, but for now, I'm very happy to have been able to say my piece finally.
I'm building new bridges: hoping that I get to meet a couple of my lj-idols in my travels this year, hoping to meet at least one neat person in each class to help me survive, trying to maintain contacts in other areas so that when I really am ready to leave here again I've got some life lines.
All in all, things are going very well. I am steadily moving forward, while still taking time to play on the side. And now, I have to try to sleep, because it is a quarter after three in the morning, and I have to teach in six hours.