The local cable company, which effectively has a monopoly in the area, messed up many big times and, thus, I haven't been able to get online for over a week. NOt that I've had time anyway, but I wanted to say...
I LOVE LIVING DOWNTOWN. Yes. I'm shouting! Whooping! even. I love that it takes 5 minutes to walk to work. That I can see the towers of my building from -- no shit -- my bedroom.
BTW, I got the job that we informally discussed a month ago. Put it this way: I'm making as much as my boss, and almost as much as my contractor rate which is unusual since you rarely get as much as the contractor rate. Decent bennies.
The wood floors gleam. I actually went out and bought $3 toothpaste because it *looked* nice, I want nice, beautiful things around me. I think I may break out into some sort of Scarlett O'hara, "never again" speech. HA ha. I still worry about money. I doubt I will ever stop. We went to look at furniture and I found a place that sells Stickley. I pressed my cheek to the wood <insert beavis and butthead funny here /> of a tall dresser and breathed deeply and thought, I might someday be able to afford this.
Every morning, whether 4 a.m. or 7 a.m., I get up, make coffee, and sit out on the huge veranda=like front porch reading the New Yorker or Harper's or a newspaper. If I want, I can walk two blocks to a deli and buy a paper. Or four blocks to a bakery with glass cases overflowing with french pastries. I want to open a charcuterie, like I saw in Paris. Why? Because it's the coolest word and a bitch loves to be surrounded by sausage.
heh. gotta run.
"You know how it is, come for the animal porn, stay for the cultural analysis." -- Michael Berube
Bitch | Lab http://blog.pulpculture.org (NSFW)