Making plans for Nigel - October 14th, 2008

Looks like no global meltdown. Now I have to return this giant Apocalypse cake I ordered. I should not have gone with ice cream.

I heard this song playing in a restaurant in Coroico, Bolivia. No one knew what it was, but there was a chance it was Bruni, which, as you can tell from the ridiculous video, is embarassing. But very nice.

not much to report, i mean on an easily available, daily, basis. i can't even spell right now. look at me, i'm in a no-capitals phase. that's not good. next comes the dreaded usage of u as a pronoun. u know.

At a dead stop in life right now. Cannot for the life of me find work in this city, and yet to be seized by the magic somehow associated with it. I keep lowering and lowering my standards for work, soullessly, and expect tomorrow is going to be call center day, I mean it's that rough.

My foot is injured from stepping on, and fully inserting, a sewing needle into it, which Jess, in a moment of snake-bite fury, pulled out with her teeth. Crazy. Why a sewing needle? Hmmm, maybe because I've become addicted to Cross-Stitching, a hallmark of decent into Hipsterism, and it's endless avant garde of the Ironic. Frankly, I'm two-weeks unemployed, and it's hobby time. Next comes yelling at day-time tv cooking shows.

"Honey! Come quick! He's gonna sautee the duck! Yaaaahh!" (I am, of course, and perhaps most disturbingly, also home alone at these times.)

While I'm more than eager and willing to bloat my schedule with classes of every nature for a vast multitude of tasks, whatever job schedule might impose itself upon me would in fact trump those classes, so they must wait until things have solidified. I have a deep relationship with the fridge.

Okay, time to head out again into the World of Employment-Seeking, which is a lot like a planet run by a master race of Brain Slugs, I would imagine.

Love,

Nick.

p.s.