Hell, I'm their leader.
In other news, my tenure with this particular patch of internet ends sometime tomorrow evening. I suppose it's just as well. I've been neglecting my trusty PLJ most cruelly. I'll see you guys in internet cafe purgatory.
I have an interview on Friday afternoon, for a "free room in exchange for a few shifts/week as desk clerk" situation at St. Vincent's. We WANT this. Really a lot. I walked by there the other day, and immediately fell in total love with the massive building (a former orphanage, built in 1861), the grounds, the whole feel of the place. Looky-look: http://www.stvguesthouse.com/
I'd called them yesterday, to see about the position, and was told that the person I needed to talk with was unavailable at the moment, and could I phone back in "a couple of hours... Maybe this evening... I'm not sure". I said sure, and when I asked about how many hours I should wait, was told, "Well, give him at least two or three. See, he kinda Tied One On last night, and is in his room taking a nap" Oh joy. I have found my People.
The history of the place is awesome. Built by the Daughters of Charity nuns, with funding provided by a woman named Margaret Haughery, who had lost her husband and children to yellow fever. It was an orphanage for children who had lost their families to various illnesses, some of whom were very sick themselves (the two-building structure was an attempt to keep the healthy children from being infected). So there are many ghosties of kids whose illnesses got the better of them, and there are multiple sightings daily. But St. Vincent's, unlike many orphanages of that time, treated their kids very well, and even the sick ones were kept happy and comfortable. So the "kids" that are still around, are majorally happy ones. They are known to play "tricks" on the guests and staff, and can be heard skipping down the halls and giggling when somebody realizes it was they who misplaced somebody's keys or some such.
All of this I gleaned from researching online after I got back from seeing the building. Seriously; I want to live there for ever and ever. Plus, if I'm working the desk, I can get some of you some great rates WHEN you come here to visit me... ^_~ And I'll know which of the individually-amened rooms are the "good" ones. So this is definitely the one Durned Fool Sceme of mine for all of y'all to light your candles to, hee.
Oh and the building has wifi, and a really groovy-looking coffeehouse right across the street.
So in the midst of typing this post, my hostess woke from her nap and stumbled into the living room/kitchen. I took that as an opportuntiy to go and pee. It's not that I am not allowed back there while she is sleeping, I just try to avoid doing it whenever I can, else be met with unspoken hostility. Anyway, when I returned to couch, the whole area had been blasted with chemical room spray to the extent that the back of my nose is burning as though I had inhaled the shit right from the can. I made a very big, passive-aggressive deal about having to toss out my final half-cup of coffee (for those of you who don't know, my morning coffee is a sacred ritual to me,, and I do not react the least bit kindly to having it disturbed, for any reason. Let alone being poisoned), since the tentative sip I tool from my mug yielded the sweet-stingy taste of chemicals. There were many sighs and "guh" sounds and Eeew faces. I am not above lowering myself to somebody else's level. Especially if I know that dealing with them as an adult is certain to yield worse than negative results. Especially if I know that a more mature response would not be understood as such anyway. Plus it's funny.
To my performance, she responded by flippantly remarking, "Well, just make another pot of coffee". As though it were that easy. Cunt. That pot was carefully and lovingly calculated to provide me with the exact amount of beverage and time to enjoy it.
Now my whole day is going to be thrown off by half a cup. And I still have that horrid taste in my mouth.
Also, I just received word that one of my childhood friends from that South Florida pit of hell (oops; sorry _chandra ) may be coming to NOLA on her 10th wedding anniversary. YAY! I haven't seen Elaina in person since... oh jeez it must have been 1996? Wow. I remember I came down to visit, and rent the U-Haul to move my things from my Ft. Lauderdale storage unit. I stayed with them (she was living with Todd then, the dear friend of mine who helped me build my computer, Lee Harvey Oswald, while in Austin for Katrinacation), and we all went to XS MusicFest together (XS is the South Florida arts & entertainment weekly magazine. Well, the cool one. There's also the New TImes, but it is run by a mega media conglomerate, the same one that owns the Sun Sentinel newspaper). Wow. Over twelve years.
I hope she doesn't mind that I am not as sweet and skippy and pleasent a lady as I used to be.
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.