last week in dc

and i'm having a bit of hard time with it. i guess i should've expected it...i've been tempted to look for jobs around here instead of in boston, and to contact school and see how hard it would be to transfer for my final year. it's a weird feeling, i've always considered myself to be a pretty independent person, and the last year of long-distance relationshipping (ldr-ing) was hard but not nearly as hard as i had been afraid it would turn out to be. so why am i worried now?

because i'm also excited to leave. part of that is the things i have hanging over my head. looking for a job and an apartment at the same time is hell no matter how you slice it, but to be in the wrong city while cheap studios get taken and interviews get postponed is downright torturous. and despite my mom's conviction that i'm a member of the wait-and-see tribe (thanks, jd!), i actually prefer to go out and get shit done rather than let it get all sword of damocles on me (ok, that was gratuitous, i'm sorry). unless it's a paper for school. those are best left until the last minute, because that's when all the good ideas come out and play.

right, so i was going to use this post-work week to get out there and do a whole bunch of touristy things (climb the monument, go to the zoo, stand in the middle of the city and ask the cool looking people how to get to the jefferson memorial, take pictures of every building i see, eat signature dc foods (coffee and steak? every day? i feel like a lobbyist!), etc.) but now i'm gonna be guilty if i don't actually look for jobs/apartments. there's probably some way to equitably divide these things among the hours of the girlfriend-deprived portion of my day--there are far better ways to spend the hours when she's around, snap!--but all i really want to do is work on my latest story. since i'm basically trapped here with lots of free time, i should take advantage and really try to work through a chapter or three. with nanowrimo coming up fast, it's best to get into practice for 2000 words a day.

on top of all that, there's a very real sense that we've already started saying goodbye. shared glances heavy with significance, more hand-holding, lots of um...intimacy. none of which is bad, mind you. but it's hard to start saying goodbye with a week to go. i almost prefer to ignore it until the day i'm leaving, and then be sad for a day or two (or week, or until the phone sex starts) than to feel it dragging out through every minute we have together. she tries very hard not to be sad when we're apart though, more than i do, so i feel like she deserves a little indulgence. i'm perfectly ok with her sadness schedule. when i get sad and we're apart, i'll almost welcome it. i like a little melancholy now and then to spice things up--have a glass of bourbon, put on some mournful, beautiful music, light a few candles and stare at the cieling. i try to revel in the maudlin fun of it all. she's a stiff upper lip kind though. lacking in the "artistic temperament" (that's ok with me, i've got some to spare, after all). she bottles it up when we're apart, so it's almost good for her to be a little sad all week. a small price to pay for me anyway. my job is to cheer her up, and i think i'm damn good at it.

this is a little more personal than i usually get, so let me know if it's too much. not that i would stop. i do what i want, alright? quit trying to change me, jeez.

there goes my screenplay idea

the someday café really is closing this time.  and sooner rather than later.  that’s kinda sad, despite what i said before.  i don’t even like mr. crêpe, and it sounds like they were steamrolled by developmentophiles and a cocksucker landlord.

not that there’s anything surprising about that.  if there’s a single landlord in boston who isn’t a cocksucker*, i’d be glad to shake his/her hand.

when i first wrote about it, i figured it would be like in empire records, and through a very watchable combination of pluck and short skirts they’d turn it all around, possibly by baking brownies or inviting scul over to shake down the fatcats or waging guerilla war on artbeat.  so much for life imitating art.  at least i can still go to diesel to play pool/get sneered at for my hopeless corporatism.

now i’m just depressed.

*quick disclaimer about cocksucking.  i’m all for it--i don’t care who you are or whose cock you’re sucking, i think it’s fan-fucking-tastic.  really, knock yourself out.  i just think it’s a completely, awesomely useful word.  james lipton, if you’re reading this, one question down, nine to go!

oh hell

here i've been in washington for a month now, and i can't help but feel that i have astonishingly little to show for it. not that that's anything new, mind you. i have very little to show for all of my 25(!) years on this funktified orb i call home. sometimes (not often, i admit) it's enough to actually get me down--much like spending hours complaining about the rain and then, when the sun finally decides to shine, i am forced (by my sense of responsiblity! thanks mom.) to spend 8 hours at work and 3 at class. this 9-5 stuff is for the birds.

quick aside about class, then back to whingeing:
so, i think it's pretty clear that i am young at heart. but in my wednesday night class, i am the oldest person in the room (not counting ms. marjorie "i met alexandra pelosi once...once!" kline). also, i am the only one in grad school, where i learned how to "contribute to class discussion" and "talk out of my ass about things like tim russert's eyebrows" still, despite my prodigious verbalizin' skillz, i don't know how long i can go on carrying the damn class. speak up, undergrads! i'm not even getting a grade and i'm kicking your early-twenties asses up and down the aisles in class participation. while solving the crossword. and looking mighty fine. and composing haiku in my head.

here's one:
longest summer days
in class, a waste of beer time
maybe bratwursts too

whingeing:
that actually cheered me up quite a bit. i also realized that the creative parts of my brain are working overtime (two novel ideas in a month? unprecedented!) and what really has me down is my lack of actually getting writing done.

and i was all set to complain about having nothing to blog about except the oh-so-uninteresting life of an off-the-hill intern. i have to "work on the website" this week since our legislative agenda is on hold til after the 4th recess. and nobody told me that the newsletter deadline was monday this week (dude, i had a lecture. i can't be held responsible). also the website just got hacked by a teletubby, so there goes any hope of being productive today. i didn't get a picture of the teletubby itself (it had some good news about noo noo) but a little while later, they hacked us again. this time to endorse firefox (my favorite browser!) and decry microsoft.













if the movie hackers taught me anything, it's that every wired-in misanthrope either looks like jonny lee miller or angelina jolie and they fly through the internets on virtual skateboards. also, they're probably jerks who dress like they're on acid. so, thanks, hacker, for pointing out our vulnerability. now run along, you're probably late to algebra class.