Day 282
Tonight's blog comes in a special edition as I am in my new clubhouse. Translation: I got the keys to every room in the building and am sitting in one of the board rooms. Despite the shitty artwork (faux-Native painting and vague Asian flowers) it is really quite nice. It is almost too nice with its long wooden table, except for the fact that the table is covered in coffee rings. Damn this would be a good sex table (except for the coffee rings). Anyway,the room also has a spectacular view of the parking lot.
The reason I have the building keys is that I am the new night patrolperson. I know its not PC but I'd like to be called a Watchman (like the comic). What I will be doing 2 hours from now is going around the entire building making sure everything is locked and nothing looks dodgey. It's sort of like that scene in the first Harry Potter movie when they go exploring at night in scary Hogwarts. Well, it's like that except that the only mischief I might run into is raccoons and the married couple that drinks wine on the balcony. We'll see...
This morning I decided that I had better start working on my script that is due on Monday. It's been a longstanding tradition that writers have been procrastinators that are horrid at meeting deadlines and if that is true I have never felt more writerly. I punched out most of a beat sheet for the show I am developing and then went to check my mail. Turns out my friend who went to work up in Northern Canada for the summer in a place not unlike the resort in Dirty Dancing but dirtier had written me. I opened up the letter to find a piece of birch bark (what the hell am I supposed to do with that) and a a letter detailing the fact that all the camp employees talk about his how many times they poop a day. Other contents of the letter included the fact that her hair is so nasty that it has become huge and the fact that she lives in the shittiest cabin where she fixed a leak in the roof using tampons and duct tape. I had to pause my writing project for awhile to write back to her how glad I am to not be there.
After the letter writing I went to work to procure more stamps and make some money to buy a new bike seat that is cushier. I got to work at 12:25 to find my boss behind the counter and line up going out the door. I greeted her and she didn't respond. I didn't see my other co-worker. I wondered if she had walked out due to the fact that my boss belittled her the other day and many other days before that. My boss looked at me and said, "Who was supposed to be here at 9:30?" I said the name of my absent co-worker. And she said, "No, you." It took 20 minutes of kissing up and buying her ice cream before she forgave me and we were in the lounge area stealing books and teabags together.
My friend and I went to the bike shop to get her a bike today. (She must be jealous of Elliot) This was the same bike shop that I bought my bike, Elliot, from yesterday. It's the same bike shop where the girl barked at me, saying that there was to be no haggling as the shop is "NON-PROFIT!" This is also the same bike shop where an adorable mechanic works. The adorable mechanic came over to help us out. He actually thought I was cool because I named my bike Elliot and he helped me pick a name (Maxine) for the bike my friend wound up buying. He also thought it was cool that I have two cellphones like a drug dealer and suggested I also get a pager. That made me want to marry him.
Also at the bike shop was one of my favorite rezmates. The one who is kinda like Eeyore. I pointed at the "Gary Fisher" on his bike and said, "Your bike already has a name!" I think he actually thought that I didn't know that was a brand. I wound up getting his phone number, guess he likes dumb girls. The other visitor at the bike shop I knew was my favorite mail pick up guy from the Post Office. He is normally the one that seems the most sane he' almost like a cheerful grandpa. At the bike shop he rooted through a graveyard of bike saddles (that is what fancy bike people call seats) and found me the biggest, fattest, cushiest one. He then threatened if I didn't buy it he would and when he said it he looked like he was high. The mechanic who yelled at me yesterday laughed at me for picking the fatty seat and then told me to come in tomorrow to get it put on. I think I've found a new hangout.
This evening a few people from the rez banded together to make lasagna. When I first moved into the building this dinner assembly was a regular Friday night occurrence. We would all get together and laugh and eat and be mirthful. After I became a dysfunctional family with the people in my program I had sort of stopped coming to Friday night dinners. On Fridays writers drink their dinner. So as many of my writerly friends have abandoned the city for summer I decided to go back to Friday night dinners, not unlike the friend who gets a significant other they spend all their time with and when they break up they come running back to their friends. The only difference in this case being that I really found out that these people aren't my friends. I can't even say what I want to around them for fear of being excommunicated and shunned and disturbing their social system. Plus, I had to do a ton of dishes.Guess I'll go back to drinking my Friday night dinner or find a new significant-other like group.
In a few days my friend and her daughter will be coming from back home to stay with me for a couple nights. In preparation for their arrival what did I do? Did I clean the bathroom? Buy toilet paper? Wash the linens? Nope. I went out and bought a beach towel with penguins on it. What the hell does that say about who I am? But seriously how can you have guests if you don't have a penguin towel at the ready?
Note: I just got back from the rounds, there were no raccoons and the married couple was on the patio. Boring.
Tip of the Day: Feeling lonely and your mother can't talk because she has an illness that may turn into pneumonia? Go out and find yourself a clubhouse.
-Canadian Castaway
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