Sunday, February 24, 2002

I finally found another job. Starting Monday, I'll be working at Storie Street Grille in Blowing Rock. It's a day job, so I can still work at Mike's. However, the clientele is a bit more elite than Mike's, so I may make this my primary job if it works out.

However, both jobs may be moot if the ONE I'm hoping for comes through. The Avery County Arts Council has an opening for an executive director, and I am applying for it. No idea on the salary, or hours, but I am willing to go for it as a step to bigger and better things.

Kathy had a performance tonight (Saturday, that is; it's about midnight on Sunday morning as I write this), in a cabaret show called Pieces of She. It was a show composed of pieces written, directed and performed entirely by women (students and alumnae). It was a fundraiser for the local women's shelter, and the attendance was amazing. I had to get in line 1 1/2 hours before the show, and in 35-degree weather, no less. Kathy's mom was gonna come too, but she wimped out.

The acts themselves ranged from the wonderful to the... ermmm... ummm... let's just say it ranged. Kathy was great as Ms. Kitty, of course, but there were several other acts that kept my attention throughout.

After the show tonight, Kathy and I went to BeansTalk, a local coffeehouse, for a couple of lattes. When we got there,we noticed one of the glass doors was broken. When we talked to one of the clerks, we found out the reason why:

This past week there had been a fire at BeansTalk, and when the BFD (Boone Fire Department) came to put it out, they had to pull the door off its hinges (why, I don't know). Well, when they put the door back, they apparently didn't do a good enough job of reinstallation, and so the door came crashing down earlier tonight. *shakes head* Whaddaya gonna do?

On Friday, as I was looking around for a job, I stopped in the local comic book store to fill out an application. The app was the strangest one I've ever filled out, with questions ranging from "How many guns do you own?" to "If asked, would you wear a suit to work?" (my answers: "None" and "Astronaut or clown?") The final requirement on the application was a request to draw "something" on the back. I ended up drawing something that looked like a T. Rex with no body, all head and limbs. I don't expect to get it, but I made my brother Phil jealous when I told him about it.

My lesson for today: Never try to wash TWO cats in one day. It annoys the cats and gets you wet. Oh well, at least they don't have "litter head" smell anymore. LOL

Saturday, February 16, 2002

The job search continues apace. I've put in resumes and applications all over Boone and Blowing Rock, and although many places say that they're not hiring because it's the "slow season", some places have shown some interest. For example, the Chetola resort is considering me for a front-of-house manager at their restaurant and bar. The pay starts at $20K, with benefits and trimmings. :) Kathy has also found a few places that have shown interest in her statistics skills.

Valentine's Day was nice, considering I finally had someone to celebrate with. I made Kathy dinner and gave her a Hello Kitty plushie and some bubble bath. I wish I could have given her more, but money is tight right now, as I've alluded to before.

I really wish I could relocate my site somewhere else. I hate popups and not being able to post photos on the blog. Help!!!

Thursday, February 7, 2002

I'm trying to find a new job, 'cause the old one ain't cuttin' it, wage-wise. Kathy and I have had a couple of tense arguements about it in the past week, and I am not happy about the situation. She's extremely stressed about money and school, and is trying to find a job as a statistician for when she finishes in May.

Any suggestions, advice or help from the general populance would be greatly appreciated.

Friday, February 1, 2002

Just woke up from a dream a while ago. Lemme see if I can piece it together.

I dreamt that Kathy and I moved into some kind of a communal house (kind of like a house that several of my friends once lived in). Once there, we got to meet some of the residents, and learned that it was a working porn studio, where films and photos were made of the wmen there, doing all kinds of things.

One of the women invited me to her room and began to talk to me. The next thing I knew, she was naked and asking me to take her picture in several different situations, none of which I will mention here. Just then, Kathy walked in and passed by the two of us on her way to dinner. I followed her, trying to plead my case.

I followed her outside, where she disappeared. Suddenly the scenery was much like the home where I grew up in the hills of NC (and the place where, until two months ago, I was living). I was in Quaker garb, and I had a scythe, and I was mowing down weeds with it. Suddenly I looked up, and at the bottom of the driveway an orange bus had pulled up (think "road construction sign" orange). A group of people had gotten off the bus and they were marching in my direction, singing along to prerecorded gospel songs as they walked. It was a cross-section of society, led by a smiling, conservatively-dressed man with gray-to-white hair.

The leader came up to me and asked me if I had taken Jesus into my heart. I just turned around and walked back up the hill to my house. My dad was inside, and he was eating dinner. He asked me what was wrong, and I told him. He said "this is something you'll have to handle yourself." I looked outside, and the orange bus was pulling up the driveway, and the people inside were singing their songs again.

I walked back to the door, and the simple little house had turned back into the porno mill, only the porno women had gone, and my dad was still sitting in the dining room eating dinner. I opened the door and a young African-American stood there smiling at me, surrounded by others of this cult, or whatever it was. He asked my if they could come in.

I said "No! Why are you people following me?"

Another African-American came into the doorway (the first had walked back into the crowd), and smiling widely at me, joked "Because we're just a bunch of n!&&@*s." People behind him laughed.

I just glared at him, and said "No, because you have no respect for your elders."

I then went on a tirade "Don't you realize that I don't give a damn about your color? I don't give a damn about your nation, or your God, or your faith, or anything else about you? I mean why the Hell did you turn this prison into a house? What's the matter with you people??!?"

I found the next to last question a bit odd, as I was directing it at an apparent cult. This is when I woke up. I don't know what it could possibly mean. If anyone has a clue (if anyone still reads this at all), please tell me. Thanks.