Plus ca change...
I used to mildly bitch about being on dial-up back in Seattle. Not too much, because it wasn't so bad, I had decent page load times and graphics-heavy pages would load... eventually.
GAH, this must be what dial-up is like for the rest of the world! Excruciatingly slow, pages timing out because of the slowness, some pages never loading due to java script. All is well though, next Sunday, seriouspenguin has her cable company coming out to install networking crap so that I can be on a high speed connection too. Woot!
So right now, I'm limited to popping back to their computer, which is through their bedroom, and tying up their phone line with my own.
TallBoy was, as per usual, so teriffic in helping me set up. He measured the space between their bookshelves that seriouspenguin had chosen as the most logical place to put my desk, then measured my desk, and it all fit perfectly. Since my desk is a libary table (sans drawer) of the same vintage as their house, it looks like it was made to fit here. He even swapped out the electrical socket to a three prong grounded one so that I could plug in the surge protector. As he slid the desk into place, TallBoy said, "... and you'll be surrounded by books!" Which isn't exactly a good thing, as I sit here thinking on stuff, I'll glance to my left or right and be all, "Oh, I haven't read that yet" or "that looks interesting!"
The flash kind of bleached out all the warmth from the shelves, carpet, and my itty bitty lamp. I'll have more pictures of our lonely writer's garrettlovely attic nest once I've sorted the boxes out a bit better. seriouspenguin and her dude really went out of their way to make a space for us to live comfortably for the next few months.
And speaking of that... being back in Milwaukee has been a distressing experience for me. Some of it has been really good. I've spent more time with seriouspenguin in the last week than I have in the last ten years, and that always feels good. The cats are HUGELY entertaining (and pictures of that too, eventually).
We're all learning how to dance around each other and figuring out our rhythms. It's hard not having your owndamnhouse, you kind of feel like the sulky teenager who is gonna fuck something up at any given moment, and like you're always in the way. (NB: seriouspenguin and TallBoy have NOT made us feel this way at ALL, this is all US.) It's an uncomfortable feeling, this being extremely self-conscious all the time.
I haven't been helping Johnny Trash much, because as the miles ticked away between Seattle and Milwaukee, I retreated more and more into panic and culture shock.
Every town we stopped in along the way, I could spot the girl who wanted out of her podunk town. Who wanted out so bad you could smell it coming off her in waves, you could see it in her every move, and as I explained to YMF our last morning, I know those girls because I was one. Coming back to the city of my 20s, a city filled with mistakes and stupid shit I did all through that decade; a city of death, and heartbreak, and desperation, and cold; of broken hearts and promises, lies and secrets and ghosts -- has been a bit more upsetting than I expected.
The first morning, the little hamster wheel in my head started up on his squeaky wheel, the one that squeaks "gotta get out, gotta get out, gotta get out" with each turn. Why? Because it feels like I'm in exactly the same place I was when I left this town ten years ago. It's autumn, I'm unemployed, I have no car, temp agencies are burbling stuff about my "skillset" and the lack of market for same... and no desire to do anything more than crawl into bed with a book and pull the blankets over my head forever.
I've had to keep pulling out our plane tickets and visas to reassure myself that that is really real.
Adding to that are the changes I've seen around here. Oh, the ghetto is still the same, sadly. Some of it a little worse on this or that edge and some a little better in another, but it's still the same in general.
Last night Johnny Trash and I went down to my old stomping grounds: the Eastside, a convergence of streets and bars.
Dude, entire buildings are gone! Things are shiny and polished up. Too many lights and not enough of them burnt out. Where is the seedy, run down, but comfortable shit hole of my youth? Only about four bars and clubs are the same, and I don't anticipate a few of them ever changing. Landmark Lanes will always have four bars and a bowling alley. Von Trier will always be a bierhaus imported directly from the old country. Vitucci's will always be Vitucci's, even with a new coat of paint and a bit of remodeling. The Oriental Landmark Theatre will always be playing Rocky Horror at midnight on Saturdays.
And Jalisco's. Jalisco's will be there and the same. It was a comfort to have a plate of food that tasted exactly as I remembered it. It's not the best Mexican food in the world, but it was just what I wanted and more than anything made me feel like I had come home.
I regaled Trash with all sorts of memories, some tacky, some funny, as we walked up and down North Avenue, hitting bars and taverns with his resume. Y'all the first day he went out with resumes, he ran OUT of them! And we haven't even taken him down to the "new" eastside: Bayview and the Third Ward. The responses have been really rewarding too. Now if only he could get his ass hired in the next week doing something the panic can be kept at bay.
As I mentioned above, the temp thing doesn't sound too promising. But I did get my dumbass here just in time for retail seasonal hiring. So I'm gonna put in an app at Barnes and Noble, and I already hit Sephora yesterday. Mayfair Maul is just up the road and there's a bus that runs between here and there. I don't really care what I do, right now, I just need MY OWN MONEY to put in the bank. Goddamn.
In other news, the smell of autumn. Discuss.
GAH, this must be what dial-up is like for the rest of the world! Excruciatingly slow, pages timing out because of the slowness, some pages never loading due to java script. All is well though, next Sunday, seriouspenguin has her cable company coming out to install networking crap so that I can be on a high speed connection too. Woot!
So right now, I'm limited to popping back to their computer, which is through their bedroom, and tying up their phone line with my own.
TallBoy was, as per usual, so teriffic in helping me set up. He measured the space between their bookshelves that seriouspenguin had chosen as the most logical place to put my desk, then measured my desk, and it all fit perfectly. Since my desk is a libary table (sans drawer) of the same vintage as their house, it looks like it was made to fit here. He even swapped out the electrical socket to a three prong grounded one so that I could plug in the surge protector. As he slid the desk into place, TallBoy said, "... and you'll be surrounded by books!" Which isn't exactly a good thing, as I sit here thinking on stuff, I'll glance to my left or right and be all, "Oh, I haven't read that yet" or "that looks interesting!"
The flash kind of bleached out all the warmth from the shelves, carpet, and my itty bitty lamp. I'll have more pictures of our lonely writer's garrettlovely attic nest once I've sorted the boxes out a bit better. seriouspenguin and her dude really went out of their way to make a space for us to live comfortably for the next few months.
And speaking of that... being back in Milwaukee has been a distressing experience for me. Some of it has been really good. I've spent more time with seriouspenguin in the last week than I have in the last ten years, and that always feels good. The cats are HUGELY entertaining (and pictures of that too, eventually).
We're all learning how to dance around each other and figuring out our rhythms. It's hard not having your owndamnhouse, you kind of feel like the sulky teenager who is gonna fuck something up at any given moment, and like you're always in the way. (NB: seriouspenguin and TallBoy have NOT made us feel this way at ALL, this is all US.) It's an uncomfortable feeling, this being extremely self-conscious all the time.
I haven't been helping Johnny Trash much, because as the miles ticked away between Seattle and Milwaukee, I retreated more and more into panic and culture shock.
Every town we stopped in along the way, I could spot the girl who wanted out of her podunk town. Who wanted out so bad you could smell it coming off her in waves, you could see it in her every move, and as I explained to YMF our last morning, I know those girls because I was one. Coming back to the city of my 20s, a city filled with mistakes and stupid shit I did all through that decade; a city of death, and heartbreak, and desperation, and cold; of broken hearts and promises, lies and secrets and ghosts -- has been a bit more upsetting than I expected.
The first morning, the little hamster wheel in my head started up on his squeaky wheel, the one that squeaks "gotta get out, gotta get out, gotta get out" with each turn. Why? Because it feels like I'm in exactly the same place I was when I left this town ten years ago. It's autumn, I'm unemployed, I have no car, temp agencies are burbling stuff about my "skillset" and the lack of market for same... and no desire to do anything more than crawl into bed with a book and pull the blankets over my head forever.
I've had to keep pulling out our plane tickets and visas to reassure myself that that is really real.
Adding to that are the changes I've seen around here. Oh, the ghetto is still the same, sadly. Some of it a little worse on this or that edge and some a little better in another, but it's still the same in general.
Last night Johnny Trash and I went down to my old stomping grounds: the Eastside, a convergence of streets and bars.
Dude, entire buildings are gone! Things are shiny and polished up. Too many lights and not enough of them burnt out. Where is the seedy, run down, but comfortable shit hole of my youth? Only about four bars and clubs are the same, and I don't anticipate a few of them ever changing. Landmark Lanes will always have four bars and a bowling alley. Von Trier will always be a bierhaus imported directly from the old country. Vitucci's will always be Vitucci's, even with a new coat of paint and a bit of remodeling. The Oriental Landmark Theatre will always be playing Rocky Horror at midnight on Saturdays.
And Jalisco's. Jalisco's will be there and the same. It was a comfort to have a plate of food that tasted exactly as I remembered it. It's not the best Mexican food in the world, but it was just what I wanted and more than anything made me feel like I had come home.
I regaled Trash with all sorts of memories, some tacky, some funny, as we walked up and down North Avenue, hitting bars and taverns with his resume. Y'all the first day he went out with resumes, he ran OUT of them! And we haven't even taken him down to the "new" eastside: Bayview and the Third Ward. The responses have been really rewarding too. Now if only he could get his ass hired in the next week doing something the panic can be kept at bay.
As I mentioned above, the temp thing doesn't sound too promising. But I did get my dumbass here just in time for retail seasonal hiring. So I'm gonna put in an app at Barnes and Noble, and I already hit Sephora yesterday. Mayfair Maul is just up the road and there's a bus that runs between here and there. I don't really care what I do, right now, I just need MY OWN MONEY to put in the bank. Goddamn.
In other news, the smell of autumn. Discuss.