Change!
Holy crap, something changed.
My roommate got a new job in Ventura, so he'll be moving out really soon. Congrats to him; we've been saying for years now that "this year is going to be crazy, there are going to be lots of changes," but what with one thing or another, not much has really changed. It's been about 6 years since we first started living in the same apartment. Whew... six years.
Anyway, now I have to deal with this housing situation. I don't make enough money to live in the kind of apartment I'm used to and still sock away a little money every month; I figure a really cheap single bedroom apartment in my area would pretty much bump me up into the $900s or so, which would put me just over my rent budget, given my current spending habits.
Some of you (Jish) are going to say, "quit your job and move up here!" And I would, but I am actually starting to formulate some interesting possibilities for myself, and I need a little time to examine them. Plus, despite everything I've said, I'm starting to really like San Diego again; the sun's come out, I'm healthier than I've been for a long time, I'm spending time at the park and the beach, and against all expectations, life is pretty good.
So right now I'm looking for an apartment-mate who's willing to drop a little over $600/mo on a big room (walk-in closet!) in a nice apartment smack dab in the middle of the UTC/La Jolla area. The place is month-to-month, so no huge pressures either way. If anyone you know needs something like this, tell them to drop me a line. With luck, I'll have alternate arrangements by the end of the summer. Without it... who knows? Life will proceed as it will.
I wonder if I should be worried about this budding Zen/fatalistic approach to life.
Fox pass
Okay, let me ask you something. Is it weird to go to the supermarket to do some grocery shopping right after you've gone to the gym? The local supermarket is right on my way home from the gym, so I often stop in and buy a few things I need.
Every time I go in there, every time I get to the head of the checkout line, the checkout person goes, "Hey, you just come from the gym?"
Hm.
Workout towel, check.
Grody sweat stains all over, check.
Water bottle, check.
I always reply with a grin, and a tell-me-about-it chuckle. "Yep," I say.
"Oh," and a slightly furrowed brow. "Where's the gym around here?"
"Up at U.T.C., the 24-hour over there." Invariably. It's like there's a conversational black hole at the head of lane 7 that keeps sending me back to this bizarro-world.
Slight nod of recognition, and "I should get down to the gym more often."
Smile, swipe, beep, scribble, done.
It's just weird, is all. I've even gone through this same routine with the same person two or three times in one week.
It kind of reminds me of my favorite (and only) joke:
A girl walks up to a supermarket checkout lane, and starts placing items on the conveyer belt. The items are as follows:
1 tube of toothpaste
1 toothbrush
1 bar of soap
1 frozen dinner
The guy manning the checkout counter scans the items through, and gives the girl a friendly smile.
"So, you're single, are you?" He nods at the neat pile of goods.
The girl's face twists in scorn as she slaps a credit card on the counter. She says acidly, "How'd you figure that one out, Sherlock?"
The checkout guy replies without missing a beat. "Because you're fucking ugly."
Online ordinations.
I've been toying with the idea of becoming an ordained minister via an online service. This is mostly because I think it'd be kind of cool to be one, especially since I have no serious religious convictions. Luckily, my pastoral urges don't extend so far into the ironic/hypocritical/blasphemous spectrum as for me to attempt a Christian ordination; I would no sooner try to be a Christian reverend than I would try to become an imam or a rabbi.
So I turned to these "universal churches" that have sprung up all over the place. After a little surfing and research, one thing kind of turned me off to the whole thing. Most of these places charge an ordination fee (some are free, but offer a "premium package" to receive the actual title of Reverend or Minister), and many of them place suspicious emphases on the potential tax, earnings, and business benefits that could be accorded to an ordained minister. I should interject that the fees don't bother me; I can see how the churches need to cover the costs of the time and resources involved in ordaining every cyber-Joe Blow that comes along. But the touting of the financial benefits of ordination, it kind of tarnishes the spirit of the occasion, like seeing "YahWheaties," or "Pepsi presents: The Bible!"
In the end, though, all I wanted to do was use the crossed-fingers-thing at people and shout Latin phrases at them (Ave Maria! Pro bono post-coital tobaccum!) until they either left me alone or bought me a drink, with the knowledge that I had the full power of the (a) C(c)hurch behind me.
They don't let you do exorcisms though, so that's a no-go anyway.
Faeces erat demonstrandum.