May 16, 2000.  Tuesday

 

    I went into the city today for no particular reason.  Well, I had to get my time sheet signed so i could get paid.  I told Jen yesterday that I would go see her new Upper West Side pad, so I kept my promise.  Unfortunately, I didn't know she wouldn't get home till around four, so I had about 3 hours to kill in the city.  I visited James for a few minutes, then wandered around Union Square.  I bought the new Delgados CD, checked out air conditioners at Circuit City, bought yet another Vonnegut book at Barnes and Noble, and called home to check on travel planz.  My mom was of course not too sympathetic about my no job, and was really on my ass to go to a temp agency.   I may get my job back at the Help Desk at NYU, but that didn't seem good enough.  She basically wanted me to at least go talk to a temp agency and tell them when I could start.  I'm going out of town this weekend, and Rodzilla is coming next week, so I didn't want to start till next week sometime.  I think my mom was at least a little sympathetic to the Rodzilla coming thing. Talking to my parents is kind of like talking to the unemployment office.  It's not great that you're unemployed, but as long as you're looking for a job, that's kind of OK.  Of course, the unemployment office never tells you how long they were in labor with you, or how much they've sacrificed for you, or how you need to grow up already and find a nice girl and be good to your parents.

    During my walk around the city today, I almost injured myself three times, from walking.  simply navigating my way up from the street to the curb or from the curb to the street, I collapsed my spine three times.  I just slipped, and twice nearly fell.  It was embarassing, and my back still kind of hurts.  Right after my third near-fall outside of Barnes and Noble, my cell phone rang.  It was Rodzilla, which was a pleasant surprise.  We talked for a minute and three seconds before being cut off.  It was a swell talk though.

    Jed and I have devised another crack-pot scheme to pay the rent: gambling.  But not just your normal Atlantic City kind of gambling.  We're going to have a little gambling party.  I think. Or maybe, I'm just kidding, officer.  Of course, i can't bankroll they venture, so we'll need an outside investor.  I've already got one in mind.  A certain "relative."  Sounds right up his ally.  I like to gamble.

    Oh yeah, I spoke with my ex-girlfriend Liz yesterday.  I was rather bored, and not doing anything, and I'd been curious as to how she was doing, and I hadn't spoken with her since early last August.  So I gave her a ring.  She was asleep, but we talked for over an hour.  I thought I'd be bored and/or annoyed after a few minutes, which was often the case when we were dating, but I foudn myself actually enjoying the conversation.  Maybe 10 months is enough time to make something sorta tedious somewhat refreshing.  I guess I just miss long phone conversations.  Don't get me wrong. It's only on the phone that I ever found her really annoying.  Some people just don't come across well over the phone. In person, she's the nicest person you'll ever meet. Somewhat misguided, but not a mean -spirited bone in that girl's body.  She filled me in on new developments in Lexington, the old college town, and i relayed my tired old " i need a job," "Schools ok, but not really," "I don't know what I'm going to do," etc. etc. etc.  She'll be graduation from Washington and Lee in a few weeks.  It seems really weird to me that she's still in college, that I still have some remote connection to college.  I can't believe I still know people in college. It really does seem so long ago.  So much has happened since then.   I was over at Jen's today, and she had this picture of Jed from sophmore year, two seconds after he fell off our kitchen table.   He was all sauced, and decided that he was going to, in his tuxedo, just jump on the table full of plates and glasses and start dancing like a madman. of course, he fell almost right away.  He was lucky some cushy chairs were there to pad his fall.  I can't believe I'd forget a thing like that.  Anyway, talking to Liz made me miss my college town. Which I haven't really done in a while.  As far as nostalgia goes, I've been pretty good about it lately.  But I mean, the whole fact that I keep three different journals, and that I have to document everything is kind of a sign that I'm nostalgic for just about everything, usually a few hours after the moment has passed.

    Does anyone really read these babblings and have a clue as to what I'm writing about? I swear, i just spit 'em out without really thinking about them, and rarely read back over them for months.  But all i do is babble on and on.  Sometimes I feel obligated to be more coherent than I am, if only for my own future amusement.  oh well.
 

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