This morning I woke up to the sounds of scratching and meowing. The cat had gotten trapped in Amanda's room. The reason Amanda keeps her door closed is to keep the cat out of her room, and instead she accidentally locked the cat in.
Today I had to travel to Binghamton so that I could see my dealer doctor. A strange old man at the bus stop started telling me about how he went to the same high school that Barbara Streisand ("the greatest white woman singer in the world"). He had a weird habit of following everything he said with, "Did you hear what I said?" It was uncomfortable. Maybe I will write a ten-minute play about the experience. Fortunately, he was not taking my bus. I was one of only two passengers on my bus, and I slept the entire way.
I've started baby-sitting for two kids. They're good kids, but their mother is poor and doesn't take very good care of them and it's depressing. I don't know if it's going to work out in the long term. If the bank offers me the teller job, I still might take it.
"Bargaining" is this weekend, so those of you in Illinois should scroll down for dates and times. "Audience" opens at the Liberty Free Theatre on December 6, so those of you in New York (all... 2... of you?) should contact me for details.
I have ruled out working at the diner. Possible jobs remaining: the bank, the newspaper, and a full-time baby-sitting gig.
I was supposed to take the 10:50am bus to Binghamton today, but I slept right through it. The next bus isn't until 7pm, so I'm trying to convince my mom to pick me up. (Bonus: That way I could take the cat home with me - pets aren't allowed on the bus, even in carriers.) We're supposed to make pies and sweet potatoes tonight for Thanksgiving tomorrow.
Last night Rich showed up trying to find Amanda, but she had left for NYC to see her mom. It was very bizarre. I was in the shower, and I turned off the water and heard someone moving around in the apartment. I was like, "Who's there?" And Rich was like, "Amanda? Kellie?" That'll teach me to leave my door unlocked. Not that we didn't give him a key. We talked for a bit about how we can't figure out how to meet new people and make new friends now that we're not in college anymore. Then my mom called and he headed back to Marlboro.
I can be a waitress if I want to. There's a new diner opening in town and I can work there if I decide I want to, as soon as they pass their health inspection. So I might start working there on Monday, 40+ hours a week. I really don't want to be a full-time waitress. I could be a part-time waitress - I could be a part-time anything - but I am not ready to work five days a week. I require free time to write, travel, and be lazy.
I also have a job interview tomorrow at a bank. They need someone part-time. If they offer me a job, I'll work there instead of the diner. I also sent my resume to a small free newspaper that needs a "Pre-press Coordinator." That sounds like copy editing to me!
Meanwhile, I stumbled into an assistant director position at the Liberty Free Theatre. It's a very exciting Vaclav Havel play about a Czech writer who is blacklisted and forced to do manual labor in a brewery. I have no idea if I will be paid for my work or not, but if I don't get any pay for this show, maybe I will get a paying position for the next production. Or maybe I'll be allowed to direct my own thing, which would be good, too.
Last night I was lying in bed when my printer suddenly fell only my keyboard. It was loud and startling. Fortunately, my monitor was unharmed. But the little legs that hold up my keyboard snapped off, so now my keyboard is flat. It might be time to buy a new keyboard, but for some reason, I can never find a black ergo for less than $50. I have no idea why my printer fell. The cat might be responsible, or we might have a poltergeist, I can't be sure yet.
Amanda and I watched the Stephen King mini-series Storm of the Century. It's an interesting story about the evils of pragmatism, panic and rationalization, mind control, and lighthouses getting knocked over by snowstorms. Parts of it made me want to finish writing one of my horror movies, but that feeling quickly passed.
I just found out that "Simple Request, Complex Refusal" is going to be included in the January issue of Pens on Fire! Go me! I would like to take this opportunity to thank Rob, who inspired that poem. Thanks for being a dick, Rob. That was very inspiring.
I went home on Wednesday and my phone died, so I missed a lot of calls. I went out to a birthday dinner, got thoughtful presents, trick or treated a little bit with Anna and had death-by-chocolate ice cream cake. It was pretty excellent. Not quite as hard-rocking as birthdays past, but in some ways better than last year, which was all haunted houses and vomit and having to get up early the next morning and commute.
I just noticed that "better" is only one letter away from "bitter." Think that means anything?
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