Moving sucks.
This is one of the few, simple, incontrovertible truths of the universe. Show me somebody who loves moving, and chances are it’s because they’re making money off of it and aren’t moving their own goddamn stuff.
For some reason that is completely unfathomable to a good little Jewish boy like myself, the shiksa girlfriend insisted on hosting a lavish Christmas dinner yesterday.
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The promo flyer that one of my students handed me for his band summed it up better than I could: “ProgressiveRock- Jazz- DeathMetal- Classical- Flamenco- etc-like… extemely unique music!!”
Gotta give The Jaywalkers credit where it’s due – their show was one of the most musically eclectic I’ve ever seen. But was it any good?
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Frustration and anger don’t begin to describe the strong animosity I feel for my soon-to-be-ex employer Nova. But let’s start from the beginning.
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When it rains, it really dumps on ya.
Good stuff seems to come in CostCo-size economy packages as well.
In addition to the relatively-new relationship and the new apartment I’m moving into tomorrow, I’ve got a new job. My last day with Nova is January 10th, and I start working on the 13th as a public elementary school teacher for Edogawa-ku, the eastern bumfuck suburb of Tokyo.
Truly, the world is ending if they’re gonna let me corrupt the youth in Asia this easily. Classes of 30, less than four hours of teaching a day. I’ll let you all know when and where the mutant-pink-bunny bonfire will be…
As I wallow in the stupor of half-realized plans nearing completion, I thought a bit of news masquerading as speculative fiction would be in order.
Personally, I would love to tell someone they need to “take the Emperor Norton I Bridge” on the way to my house, but that’s just the kind of guy I am.
No, I’m not talking about two totally unrelated locales today. It’s movies today, baby. Feel the celluloid.
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Try singing this to the tune of “Masochism Tango;” sometimes cohabitation amounts to the same thing.
Here’s the story: Boy meets Girl. Boy cracks wise. Girl laughs, not. Boy tells her she’s got no sense of humor. Fast-forward six months. Boy meets girl for dinner. Something Weird happens.
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