Just some random, unpoetic event recording. You know, so I can remember.
Nightmares, bratty kids, employment, drinking too much...
These are the most recent updates!
Cathy has been such a little hooker. "Wow, your eyes are so small without makeup!" and "Your hair is weird..." and "If your legs were just three inches longer you'd be perfect!" are just a few gems she's uttered in reference to me. I mean, really, with everything I've done for her--and everything she's demanded I do in the future--you'd think she'd think before speaking! Apparently this is too much to ask... Good god! Nothing like being made to feel super self-conscious by an 18 year old!
I've been taking melatonin on the advice of Sarah Coulter, and it's been working wonders... My dreams are more lucid--still nightmarish, but it bothers me less. Like a comprehensive episode of the world ending. At first it's almost fun, people banding together with the spirit of adventure, eager to try out all they'd discussed over meals or drinks or drugs. Then things began to fall apart, abstract but realistic, until the dream culminated with sobering realizations, most of my companions dead, a need to abandon the dogs in my care and company. You get my drift. I dunno, it's just a very different way of dreaming. Things aren't good, but it's comforting to have such a continuity, to have things make so much sense.
Sadly, last night didn't really fit the bill. It involved shifting, high speed escalators, a frustrating stage performance, confrontations and running, running, running. I woke up sweaty and annoyed, and went right to the computer. For fuck sake! Even the Armageddon dreams leave me wanting to lazily drift back to sleep!
Oh yes, and I got a job at the Walrus! F-ing finally! It's so funny to watch these guys melt. You can tell they're nice guys for it. Not sleazy, not mean, not conceited, just good old guys eager to believe what a pretty girl is telling them. Now that I can work with! I get the official offer today or Monday, and I'll most likely start training on Tuesday. They are impressed with my willingness to work, with my interest in internal promotion... I'm so excited. Now all I need is a push up bra and great quantities of caffeine so I can push the shots they sell there to college age boys. Poontang, anyone? How about a little Sexy Chocolate? Or a Panty Dropper for your lady friends?
When I got out of my stellar interview yesterday I went right across the street and slammed a super tasty margarita at Juanita's while I waited for Dave to rescue me from Pearl St. This was followed by multiple high-proof beers at the Southern Sun and a bottle of Riesling at home. Perhaps it was massive quantities of alcohol that caused my bizarre and frustrating dreams? Perhaps... ;)
Oh yes! Also to add to the recent activities:
Friends from home are conspiring to bring me back to Rochester, at least for a while. Mom's on board. What with being unemployed for two months, having no friends in the area, hating where I'm living and desperately missing home, it's not like it's taking a lot of convincing. The only thing is that I should have moved back when I still had money saved up and hadn't yet gone through the trouble of lugging all my shit to Boulder and signing a lease on a horrible place.
Now, the horrible place!
Oh my god!! Yesterday the kitchen floor was wet. As I was cleaning it up, the drain gurgled, then bubbled, then rose, then overflowed. I went to take a shower. When I got out, the floor was soaked with a formidable puddle. I knew I couldn't have made that mess, but still, I cleaned it up. A few minutes later, I returned to see the puddle was back, only larger and deeper... So the bathroom was flooding as well. I threw down a towel and went to wash the dishes. And guess what!!!??? Turns out, the fucking pipes aren't even connected to the fucking drain anymore! I call Dave, freaking out. He says, "Can't you just screw it back on?" Trouble is, there was nothing to screw--it looked like the goddamn assembly had been glued together!!! So I guess the idea now is to use the "otherwise unlivable" clause in our lease to our advantage, get Dave his money back, help him to find a smaller, more affordable place, and move my happy ass back to New York!
Now that I have a job, I guess I could start saving money to make the move? Hmm....
And it would only be temporary. Until I could apply to another school, one I actually want to go to. I suppose though that I should do at least one semester at CU, just so I have a good idea as to whether or not I want to actually pursue acting... If I do, then Emerson. If I do not, then I look for a really super awesome Anthro school. Yay for tentative plans!
These are the most recent updates!
Cathy has been such a little hooker. "Wow, your eyes are so small without makeup!" and "Your hair is weird..." and "If your legs were just three inches longer you'd be perfect!" are just a few gems she's uttered in reference to me. I mean, really, with everything I've done for her--and everything she's demanded I do in the future--you'd think she'd think before speaking! Apparently this is too much to ask... Good god! Nothing like being made to feel super self-conscious by an 18 year old!
I've been taking melatonin on the advice of Sarah Coulter, and it's been working wonders... My dreams are more lucid--still nightmarish, but it bothers me less. Like a comprehensive episode of the world ending. At first it's almost fun, people banding together with the spirit of adventure, eager to try out all they'd discussed over meals or drinks or drugs. Then things began to fall apart, abstract but realistic, until the dream culminated with sobering realizations, most of my companions dead, a need to abandon the dogs in my care and company. You get my drift. I dunno, it's just a very different way of dreaming. Things aren't good, but it's comforting to have such a continuity, to have things make so much sense.
Sadly, last night didn't really fit the bill. It involved shifting, high speed escalators, a frustrating stage performance, confrontations and running, running, running. I woke up sweaty and annoyed, and went right to the computer. For fuck sake! Even the Armageddon dreams leave me wanting to lazily drift back to sleep!
Oh yes, and I got a job at the Walrus! F-ing finally! It's so funny to watch these guys melt. You can tell they're nice guys for it. Not sleazy, not mean, not conceited, just good old guys eager to believe what a pretty girl is telling them. Now that I can work with! I get the official offer today or Monday, and I'll most likely start training on Tuesday. They are impressed with my willingness to work, with my interest in internal promotion... I'm so excited. Now all I need is a push up bra and great quantities of caffeine so I can push the shots they sell there to college age boys. Poontang, anyone? How about a little Sexy Chocolate? Or a Panty Dropper for your lady friends?
When I got out of my stellar interview yesterday I went right across the street and slammed a super tasty margarita at Juanita's while I waited for Dave to rescue me from Pearl St. This was followed by multiple high-proof beers at the Southern Sun and a bottle of Riesling at home. Perhaps it was massive quantities of alcohol that caused my bizarre and frustrating dreams? Perhaps... ;)
Oh yes! Also to add to the recent activities:
Friends from home are conspiring to bring me back to Rochester, at least for a while. Mom's on board. What with being unemployed for two months, having no friends in the area, hating where I'm living and desperately missing home, it's not like it's taking a lot of convincing. The only thing is that I should have moved back when I still had money saved up and hadn't yet gone through the trouble of lugging all my shit to Boulder and signing a lease on a horrible place.
Now, the horrible place!
Oh my god!! Yesterday the kitchen floor was wet. As I was cleaning it up, the drain gurgled, then bubbled, then rose, then overflowed. I went to take a shower. When I got out, the floor was soaked with a formidable puddle. I knew I couldn't have made that mess, but still, I cleaned it up. A few minutes later, I returned to see the puddle was back, only larger and deeper... So the bathroom was flooding as well. I threw down a towel and went to wash the dishes. And guess what!!!??? Turns out, the fucking pipes aren't even connected to the fucking drain anymore! I call Dave, freaking out. He says, "Can't you just screw it back on?" Trouble is, there was nothing to screw--it looked like the goddamn assembly had been glued together!!! So I guess the idea now is to use the "otherwise unlivable" clause in our lease to our advantage, get Dave his money back, help him to find a smaller, more affordable place, and move my happy ass back to New York!
Now that I have a job, I guess I could start saving money to make the move? Hmm....
And it would only be temporary. Until I could apply to another school, one I actually want to go to. I suppose though that I should do at least one semester at CU, just so I have a good idea as to whether or not I want to actually pursue acting... If I do, then Emerson. If I do not, then I look for a really super awesome Anthro school. Yay for tentative plans!