Filed under: Daily Specials | Tags: broke, infertility, san francisco, sick, starting over, tower of power, writing
Last night’s drink: Xtremo [sic] Mango Gatorade
I’m writing from a hotel room in San Francisco where I am swollen with fertility hormones, fighting off a virus, broke and alone. Surprisingly, the worst aspect of this for me is that I’m not at home, but I guess all of the aspects are sort of interchangeable. If I weren’t broke, I could get myself out of bed to do something cool since the hotel is very close to Union Square. If I weren’t sick, I could get a lot of work done and catch up on my narcissistic blog. If I weren’t incubating my eggs, I could go for a jog along the bay or over these crazy hills. Instead, I’m sort of half-assing on all of the above. Taking walks through Chinatown, window shopping, and writing this post. Still, I feel optimistic.
This post has been a few weeks coming, but not because it has anything particularly poignant to say. It’s the first since Josh and I completely broke up. We each moved into new spaces, and are moving forward separately. So this blog marks the first in my re-entry into writing whatever I want, whenever I want without inhibition nor inquisition.
I’ve been cooking up some interesting activities already, but nothing is quite ready to serve. This week will mark one of the first dishes, though, as about 3 dozen of my eggs swell within me and eventually join the sperm of a man I’ll never meet. Outside of my body, I should add. I’m not close to ready to be a parent, more or less Octomom.
On the menu are stories of law enforcement, divas, coffee shops, high school reunions and flipping the bird. Maybe even a few hardline decisions mixed in for taste.
But for now, it’s time to get in the shower and tower above San Francisco’s Chinese, and otherwise.
After all, I’m still a young (wo)man.
Filed under: Daily Specials | Tags: assholes, broke, coffee, life, optimism, random, school, work, writing
Last night’s drink: Vendange merlot.
You can tell by the steady decline in the quality of my alcohol that I’m still recovering from the financial blows of the holidays. That, and Wells Fargo is a business based on the highest grade of assholes alive. Don’t ever use them. EVER.
Despite having a only a few Washingtons to my name, I’m finding that I already have a lot to keep me occupied until the payday after rent. Thanks to my insider connection with a coffee roaster, I have at least a three-month supply of delicious coffee, which makes me feel better no matter what. I also have a lot of food in my fridge, thanks to the sustaining properties of peanut butter and jelly. I have makeup, nice clothes, and a flat iron, which help me to garner mood-lifiting compliments. I can clean my apartment, and cleanliness is next to godliness. I have full use of my legs, so I can walk to anywhere downtown, in Balboa Park, or bayside, where people watching is at a premium. I have paid my phone, internet and cable bills, so that’s set for a month. I am engulfed in a book that I love, which is the height of satisfaction. But mostly, I just have coffee. Without coffee, I wouldn’t be in the mood to appreciate everything else. Now I just need a friend in the wine business.
I started school at the beginning of this month, so I’ve been writing a lot, just not in here. Jenn said that she missed my blog, and I really appreciate that. The funny thing is that I’m still getting a lot of hits – mostly from people googling the term “crossdresser” (in reference to my “Pink Swoon” post from October). There are some pretty interesting blogs out there from crossdressers. Some of those might even be just as entertaining without coffee.
Going back to school has renewed my outlook on life, and on myself. I feel accomplished again, and intelligent, and that I truly do have talents and contributions to make to the world. I can overlook the assholes at work, and recognize that they don’t mean anything to me. The light at the end of my current job is not much farther away than the end of December – or June, if I decide to scrap it all and start waiting tables again. Even with the decrease in pay, I have a feeling I’d be happier overall. I’d definitely have more to write about.
In the meantime, though, I’ll keep looking for satisfaction in free activities, such as walking into the nearest Wells Fargo branch and flipping off the personal bankers, one by one.
I mean… watching the birds. With coffee.
Filed under: Daily Specials | Tags: , broke, food, life, Oz, Pretty in Pink, random, thoughts, Vegas
Tonight’s drink: still Rex.
Tonight is one of those wierd evenings where I’ve taken one bite out of pretty much every food item in my home. It’s like I have this deep hunger inside me that can’t be fed.
So why I am milling around, eating myself out of house and home? I think a big part of it has to do with the fact that I am really and truly broke, and all I want to do is go out and be around those heathens downtown. I’ve closed all but my emergency credit card accounts, so that I’m running solely on cash… or solely on fumes.. those two can be used interchangeably in my case.
I know there’s something good about staying in all weekend.. especially since I’m going to be spending almost all week in Vegas in just about 10 days. I’m going to sit by the pool and blog, or read, or tan, or people watch, or listen to music, or just sleep until my eyes are too awake to even blink. And then I’ll get drunk and dance and ravage my body all over again. So this weekend I must be completely opposite of my Vegas self. I must be mild and quiet and pale-skinned. Easy enough.
The one thing I’m going to have to abstain from both before and during Vegas is shopping… which really sucks. I’m thinking I’m going to have to put on some Pretty in Pink moves and sew together some fabulous top. It might be fun. Or, it might be a disaster when all of the seams split mid-dance move at Rain. On second thought, that should be worth at least one free drink.
More than the partying and the pretending to be fabulous, I’m looking forward to simply getting the hell out of San Diego. I’m tired of the work, the drama, the lack of friends. America’s Finest City has become my own personal Oz. I guess you could say that I’m off to see the wizard at the end of the I-15. There’s no place like anywhere but home.
