Not much is going on. That’s part of why I haven’t been posting anything exciting. We’ve been kicking-up our wedding planning, because that shit is only a month away. I’m becoming increasingly worried that the wedding is going to be boring. But it’s the same fear I’ve always had about huge parties.
I suffered the phobia at it’s most intense during the first Halloween party I threw when I moved to Philadelphia. I was worried it was going to be a shitty party, so I invited everyone I knew. Then I got worried that the party was going to be too huge, and uncontainable (which is actually what makes a good party. God, I’m such a baby). When I got home from work, I got into my costume, and then got insanely drunk. This was before anyone got to the party. By the time anyone showed up, I was so drunk, that I was upset that no one else was drunk (or in costume), so I went into the kitchen and yelled “I don’t know how any of you are drunk, because I am already all the drunk!” and sprayed fake blood all over everyone in the kitchen.
Following that display of BPA I retired to my bedroom, which became a repository for jackets, and 40oz. brown bottle bags, which came in handy during my vomitous night. For about a week (okay, maybe a month) I was known as “Passout Polly”.
My point is that you can’t be worried, because it’s not up to one person to decide how a party goes. It will just lead to disaster. So I’m trying to be cool.
I have an interview today for the Minnesota Reading Corps, a branch of America Corps that teaches kids K-3 how to read. I’m just interested in a part-time set-up, which will allot me with some extra cash, some good experience, and some help with my student loans after a year of service.
Right now I’m worried about whether or not I should wear tights. I wish I would just relax.
A few notes about the photos below.
Minneapolis now has a bike share! It’s $5/hr, but the bikes are upsettingly ugly. Yesterday morning on my ride to work I saw an older guy riding one of the bikes on the sidewalk. He said, “Hello.” I said, “Hi. Make sure you’re riding that thing on the street. What you’re doing now is illegal.” “I love you,” he shouted.
Trash day this week had a lot of people throwing away household goods.
The cowboy is Jerry, a special old guy who comes in to my work on occasion, and “fools us” by taking all the dirty dishes to the sink. Sometimes he calls us chipmunks to make fun of us. He’s going on vacation soon to a dude ranch, and while he’s gone, we’re going to put our hands to our chins and wonder “Hmm, I wonder where Jerry is?”