Moving and Vacationing
Ok, to start...
I have been in conversation with the girl who's moving out of the place we're moving into. She was really warm the first couple of times we met her, and although I've had some strange requests from her (i.e. can we move in early, can we come back and measure the bedroom, etc.). I will say that her reception has gotten cooler over the last couple of weeks which brings me to my point.
I want people to like me. I do, it's crazy I know...that perhaps, a random stranger doesn't know that I have the best intentions, that I'm willing to put in twofold what I'm asking for and that I'm generally a good person. I see people all around me making connections, or complaining about people. I don't want random, party connections - those are too frail and dependent on booze - I want solid people. Good people, who make me feel good about myself too.
But I have trouble making friends. I do. And I wish one of those people would just tell me what it is so I can fix it or stop caring. I digress - I don't think I'd actually be friends with this girl, I'm just saying that I feel disconnected a lot and I guess it often feels that way for me.
What I see at the restaurant is people of all ages, getting disgusting drunk, yelling, celebrating, interrupting people's dinner, making out with random much older strangers, spending too much money and maybe never having a meaningful conversation. But they're all at it together and I guess that must make them happy. Of course, we, the staff aren't happy seeing them, because we have to mother them, wrangle them, find new seats for the people they're disturbing, and buy dinner for the friends of the person they're getting it on with in the next chair...we could have just kicked the guy out, but it wasn't my call. So are they living a meaningful, connected existence? Do they know something about the simple pleasures in life that I just don't want to know because it would take too much cocaine to get there?
IN OTHER NEWS:
The bedroom and bathroom are nearly empty, as is the office, but the living room when I left it was a tangled jungle of boxes, cables, and bits of randomness.
We're almost there.
I'm very excited for our trip as well, although the first leg of it will be tough. I think we have a 2.5 hour layover at 2am. I'm strongly considering wearing my pjs. We can change in the bathroom and get ready for a big meeting when we get there.
I'm starting to get to the point where I lead a very interesting life. I look forward to doing more documenting of it.
For example: My day yesterday consisted of doing the basic information framework in a template for a film website that Jason's managing the fundraising campaign for. Then I packed a few boxes with him. Ran out the door to teach a voice lesson to an amazing vocalist from Sweden who has a few shows with her band in a few weeks and just wants lessons so she can really sing out. It's so much fun. Then I went to work at the restaurant and wrangled drunk people for 8 hours. Came home and proof read the website that Jason had finished and went to bed.
I have been in conversation with the girl who's moving out of the place we're moving into. She was really warm the first couple of times we met her, and although I've had some strange requests from her (i.e. can we move in early, can we come back and measure the bedroom, etc.). I will say that her reception has gotten cooler over the last couple of weeks which brings me to my point.
I want people to like me. I do, it's crazy I know...that perhaps, a random stranger doesn't know that I have the best intentions, that I'm willing to put in twofold what I'm asking for and that I'm generally a good person. I see people all around me making connections, or complaining about people. I don't want random, party connections - those are too frail and dependent on booze - I want solid people. Good people, who make me feel good about myself too.
But I have trouble making friends. I do. And I wish one of those people would just tell me what it is so I can fix it or stop caring. I digress - I don't think I'd actually be friends with this girl, I'm just saying that I feel disconnected a lot and I guess it often feels that way for me.
What I see at the restaurant is people of all ages, getting disgusting drunk, yelling, celebrating, interrupting people's dinner, making out with random much older strangers, spending too much money and maybe never having a meaningful conversation. But they're all at it together and I guess that must make them happy. Of course, we, the staff aren't happy seeing them, because we have to mother them, wrangle them, find new seats for the people they're disturbing, and buy dinner for the friends of the person they're getting it on with in the next chair...we could have just kicked the guy out, but it wasn't my call. So are they living a meaningful, connected existence? Do they know something about the simple pleasures in life that I just don't want to know because it would take too much cocaine to get there?
IN OTHER NEWS:
The bedroom and bathroom are nearly empty, as is the office, but the living room when I left it was a tangled jungle of boxes, cables, and bits of randomness.
We're almost there.
I'm very excited for our trip as well, although the first leg of it will be tough. I think we have a 2.5 hour layover at 2am. I'm strongly considering wearing my pjs. We can change in the bathroom and get ready for a big meeting when we get there.
I'm starting to get to the point where I lead a very interesting life. I look forward to doing more documenting of it.
For example: My day yesterday consisted of doing the basic information framework in a template for a film website that Jason's managing the fundraising campaign for. Then I packed a few boxes with him. Ran out the door to teach a voice lesson to an amazing vocalist from Sweden who has a few shows with her band in a few weeks and just wants lessons so she can really sing out. It's so much fun. Then I went to work at the restaurant and wrangled drunk people for 8 hours. Came home and proof read the website that Jason had finished and went to bed.