Wow. Just, wow.
So I managed to go a whole year with not a single post! This site used to basically dominate my internet time. It's not as though I do much on the Facebooks, my Myspace is obsolete, and I don't even have a Twitter. It's kind of like about a decade ago when I completely abandoned real people and just hung out on the interweb, except backwards. And I'm also not going out and doing things in real life. I...don't really know what I do with my time.
March 16-17th Cleo and I arrived in California. We live here for the first time since 1995 and that is a very good thing. The hills and green, the pollen count is low, there are fewer bugs, and people are nicer to me here than in the south. I was worried that all my memories were hazy with nostalgia, but it turns out that this is just the best coast. Somehow everything is cheaper out here and there's no food tax. And the speed limit on the interstate: Keep pace with traffic. Like, if everyone else is speeding and you don't, you get a ticket. That's pretty awesome! And it's against the law to text or talk on the phone while driving. There's commercials about it all the time and signs up telling you the minimum fine for driving like an asshole. I love that shit.
Time for the bad stuff!
We've been living in Pleasanton at Grandma Cleo and Grandpa John's house for over a month now. I love them, totally do, but this place has always been the most boring house in the world. Add in the fact that grandpa now has Alzheimer's and grandma is constantly mean to him. He forgets that this is his house, misplaces his scotch, reheats their coffees again and again until they're boiling, and frequently wanders the house slightly worried because he can't find his wife who he focuses on because he's still very much in love with her. She gets angry at him because he asks the same question a couple times, locks herself in the bathroom for hours where he can't find her, doesn't give him his pills and patches on schedule, and stays up late watching shows that he hates and can't concentrate on, just so that he will leave her alone. Instead he keeps asking her if it's time for bed and why she's mad at him and reminding her that he still loves her and it's time for bed now.
Our mom is also living here as she is his caregiver. She made this whole stopping point possible and I am incredibly grateful. However, there is a history of me, Cleo and mom living together since us kids have grown up and there's always a chance that at any time a fight will start and none of us will know why. Each day in full of surprises.
We came out here to go to culinary school and to see and help a bit with grandpa. We've been looking for jobs anywhere and places to live in the city. I actually got a call form the California Culinary Academy about 2 weeks ago for the first time in months, and we did a tour of the campus. Cleo just got a job resetting a Walmart. It's going to last almost 3 months and pays very well. This is a great step forward! I've applied at every Wells Fargo and Bank of America in SF and the East Bay. In every interview (group interviews are bullshit btw) I've been the person with the most experience and I felt very confident with all but the first one. That was just because apparently out here you have to dress in full suit to do an interview as a bank teller. So I got a new suit and the other interviews went great. Just this morning I got another rejection email. This has all finally gotten to me.
I'm tired of pretending to be a business professional. I'm just about ready to rejoin the ranks of the Alabama scumfucks that I just left. And that's another thing: This town has no "scene." Not just punk or whatever, but NOTHING. Downtown Pleasanton has been completely revamped so that now there's just a bunch of cafes and overpriced restaurants where rich middle age turds go for every meal. And their kids are right there with them, dressing like them, acting like them. And they're doing the same thing in downtown Livermore! I have seen more Mercedes in the last month than in the entire rest of my life. We did spot a kid in a Crass hoodie the other day as we were driving around, but I mean c'mon. Rebellion may be the first step to a good subculture, but Crass? Goddamn kid.
That's it I guess. I'm glad to be here, but I really want to get out of this town.
March 16-17th Cleo and I arrived in California. We live here for the first time since 1995 and that is a very good thing. The hills and green, the pollen count is low, there are fewer bugs, and people are nicer to me here than in the south. I was worried that all my memories were hazy with nostalgia, but it turns out that this is just the best coast. Somehow everything is cheaper out here and there's no food tax. And the speed limit on the interstate: Keep pace with traffic. Like, if everyone else is speeding and you don't, you get a ticket. That's pretty awesome! And it's against the law to text or talk on the phone while driving. There's commercials about it all the time and signs up telling you the minimum fine for driving like an asshole. I love that shit.
Time for the bad stuff!
We've been living in Pleasanton at Grandma Cleo and Grandpa John's house for over a month now. I love them, totally do, but this place has always been the most boring house in the world. Add in the fact that grandpa now has Alzheimer's and grandma is constantly mean to him. He forgets that this is his house, misplaces his scotch, reheats their coffees again and again until they're boiling, and frequently wanders the house slightly worried because he can't find his wife who he focuses on because he's still very much in love with her. She gets angry at him because he asks the same question a couple times, locks herself in the bathroom for hours where he can't find her, doesn't give him his pills and patches on schedule, and stays up late watching shows that he hates and can't concentrate on, just so that he will leave her alone. Instead he keeps asking her if it's time for bed and why she's mad at him and reminding her that he still loves her and it's time for bed now.
Our mom is also living here as she is his caregiver. She made this whole stopping point possible and I am incredibly grateful. However, there is a history of me, Cleo and mom living together since us kids have grown up and there's always a chance that at any time a fight will start and none of us will know why. Each day in full of surprises.
We came out here to go to culinary school and to see and help a bit with grandpa. We've been looking for jobs anywhere and places to live in the city. I actually got a call form the California Culinary Academy about 2 weeks ago for the first time in months, and we did a tour of the campus. Cleo just got a job resetting a Walmart. It's going to last almost 3 months and pays very well. This is a great step forward! I've applied at every Wells Fargo and Bank of America in SF and the East Bay. In every interview (group interviews are bullshit btw) I've been the person with the most experience and I felt very confident with all but the first one. That was just because apparently out here you have to dress in full suit to do an interview as a bank teller. So I got a new suit and the other interviews went great. Just this morning I got another rejection email. This has all finally gotten to me.
I'm tired of pretending to be a business professional. I'm just about ready to rejoin the ranks of the Alabama scumfucks that I just left. And that's another thing: This town has no "scene." Not just punk or whatever, but NOTHING. Downtown Pleasanton has been completely revamped so that now there's just a bunch of cafes and overpriced restaurants where rich middle age turds go for every meal. And their kids are right there with them, dressing like them, acting like them. And they're doing the same thing in downtown Livermore! I have seen more Mercedes in the last month than in the entire rest of my life. We did spot a kid in a Crass hoodie the other day as we were driving around, but I mean c'mon. Rebellion may be the first step to a good subculture, but Crass? Goddamn kid.
That's it I guess. I'm glad to be here, but I really want to get out of this town.