News for your blues

The party was not disastrous. I got to hang out with a French kid who plays guitar and likes tequila shots and smells reassuringly like fresh tobacco. (And then he made out with Becca. HA!) More importantly, I got to see some people I get really excited about and never see - Dana and Matt, Jim, Brendan... People who make me feel comfortable in my own skin, people who always have something interesting to tell me. I love it.

Alas, the Housewarming Party was a sham. (Ben took to calling it a House Cooling Party.) I've been looking at apartments. I found one I like, now it's a question of who likes me. The place I found is $40 cheaper, one roommate fewer, heat included, in much better shape overall, no apparent freaks living therein. While I met one of the girls there was a jam session across the courtyard; sax, bass, drums, piano, pure jazz. It was like a beacon calling me home.

That girl better like me.


A miscellany of events in no particular order:

Roomie Jake asked me if I've ever thrown a sex toy party. Is that a pick up line?

Pea and I went to tot music class, and she was by far the most active baby, stealing maracas and strumming the guitar without invitation. I miss her less mobile days.

I've been weirdly reckless this week, agreeing to blind dates, drinking cider before seeing apartments, throwing my laundry willy-nilly about the room (WILD, JoBiv! Settle the hell down!). Figured it out - it's because I'm going home today. I have a track record of pre-parental-visit recklessness. It used to involve Uly.

Chorus and choir have been trying. Bach has this funny way of changing the notes on ya every time you close the book. Bastard. That's the Brookline Chorus - very challenging, interesting people, more time spent gabbing at breaks and before rehearsals with people my age. Community Choir is a shambles. I've been considering bringing a straw to choir so I can shoot spitwads at the director.

Got three freelance projects done so far; lots of money coming my way. Maybe I can pay last year's taxes now.

Last night, while waiting for the 66 bus (total wait time: 45 min.), a skinny kid on a bike zoomed past. Our eyes caught. He skidded to a halt. "John!" "JoBiv!" "Whoaaa..." He was a friend from SBU, a boyfriend of a friend who went a lil psychotic on me. As I told him last night, he was one of the few people I could stand at Bona's. He lives in Allston. We didn't exchange numbers.

I feel so broke up. Don't wanna go home.