But me, I'm...

The spots on my right arm that I pick, you can see them. It is not covered in ink like the other. You can see the blood and the scabs and the puss. I stop mid-sentence to scratch and pick and bleed and dream. Every minute or so I dab at the wound to clear the things that drain out. My fingers run through my hair and blood bursts from my lip; my teeth have split it again.

The locks were changed at the other apartment when I was moving out the last of my things. There is a box and leather jacket I never recovered. I went back a few nights ago with crowbar that helped me back in. The jacket and box and new resident were gone. So I left the crowbar and took a bottle of wine and walked to that park where the maids smoke pot after work. No one was there so I opened the bottle and called Leslie to pick me up.

snow on the train

I got of work today and it was snowing. It was nice. It is fun to see snow fall, because it seems not to land, like it is having too much fun floating around and attacking my eyeballs that it doesn't want to end up on the shitty ground to get trampled on and ruined. I understand how it feels.

My beautiful ex-roommates shipped my computer to me and it showed up today. Once I track down a cheap monitor things should get intense over here.

Ok, maybe not intense, but more frequent.

a shitty day gets better

Yesterday I woke up and went to a job interview. It is to bartend at a gay sports bar. I figure guys always try to impress ladies with the tips they give them, so why not take advantage of it. SO at the interview they told me they didn't like my (literal) beard and that I would have to shave it off. Also through out the whole thing they talked down to me like I was 14 and have never been inside a bar before. I had felt good about the whole thing going into it, but this just made me feel like shit. It piled on the shrinking bank account and random pains of loneliness and made the day start to feel long and shitty. So what did I do?

I got a job at Pepper's.

Yup, I'm back slanging margaritas and hopefully corndogs for the man. I'm not excited, but my wallet and bank account are, and that will make my belly happy when I fill it with Old Style and tater tots. (Apparently tater tots are a hot bar food out here, I haven't partaken yet, but I'm excited to.) The up side to the whole thing is I don't have to learn anything new, I'll start bartending instead of having to work my way up at another restaurant. And it is a franchise, and Whit used to fascinate me with tales weaved of a glorious Pepper's in the northwest that was a franchise and pretty much kicked ass. So hopefully that's how it is here. I didn't hate the Pepper's in Sacramento, so I could like this one.

Then the day got better.

I hung out at a dance club with a guy who was a rep for BUSHMILLS, so I drank a bunch of it for free then I ate the largest slice of pizza ever. IT WAS HUGE!

And on the train ride home, my car was the happiest place on earth. There was a girl getting escorted most of the way home by a date/stranger. As soon as he got up another guy sat next to her and tried to pick her up. Two sisters sat next to each other and tried to crush the other one and laughed loud and hard. 4 guys argued about sports and tried to get a sing along started. A girl with afropuffs and he super tall company smiled and talked something very interesting I only caught glimpses of. And I sat there, drunk, being embraced by my new home. A nice hug it was.