Swan Island is a funny little place indeed.

. This morning came and went with yet another interview for another job I don’t want, but will probably accept seeing as how my options are slim. The complication here is that I am over-qualified without a degree leaving me swift in the middle of the road. Employers don’t want middle of the road. Thus far my experience has taught me that in order to be employable one must appear utterly deficient of original thought or have the words “Asshole with degree” tattooed on their forehead. Either way I am close to the second and hopefully far from the first. Checking in with the Euge this weekend should prove distracting. I have a party to attend, and some drinks to drink, some late hours to keep. Fortunately my love hate relationship with Eugene is solid and no where near the middle of the road. I love the folks and hate the place. It’s simple. I like simple. I miss simple.

You picked a fine time to leave me Lucile

I am listening to Kenny Rogers and web seeking a new form of capital. I had forgotten how fun Mom’s house can be and how much I fucking love Kenny Rogers. I spoke to an old love last night. It was drunken and numb and sensational to hear myself forgive him without reservation. It was resolution of some shape and I feel better today because of it. I can’t be sorry for it despite my will to discard it. I suppose there is really time enough for counting when the dealin’s done.

I have a couple interviews, a really harsh cold, and a little bit of hope.

I need a job to consume this

I locked the dogs out. I shut the door on them and pleaded with Olive to come out from under the bed for an hour just now. This is not what I expected. I have faxed out 13 resumes this morning alone, and I am falling fast esleep before 10 every night. I am supposed to go to Chopsticks tonight and say goodbye to a person I can barely recall. I have been kicked out of one bar in my tenure. That one bar was Chopsticks. I highly doubt it will be remembered. I was 20 when it happend. My fake id was acceptable but my drunk boyfriend at the time was not. We were not-so-politely escorted out when he called the bartender a 'pretentious asskid'. All and all it should be okay I suppose. The old and the new friends will meet for the first time and I will sit quietly and nod. I am a wreck inside. Broke and homeless do not suit me well. Fingers crossed the pabst will be chilled and cheap upon my arrival, and I wont be asked to sing 'Angel of the morning' for the drunk stranger's party for the 565th time just because I can.

The need for a nice gay man

 


Asshole: Are you as cold on the inside as you are on the outside?
Me: Yes, I am actually. Is that a problem?
Asshole: Yes it is. When you warm up come find me and we will hook up.
Me: No Sir, no we will not. Thank you very much.

This is the first, hopefully not the last, interaction I've had with the opposite sex regarding my single status. I am not accustom to dating, I don't know how. I have yet to decide if I even want to. At this rate it is likely that I will spend most of my time with a bottle of wine and Olivia to talk with. I could be wrong.
So I've decided. What I really need is a gay man.
A gay man with free time to cut up magazines and watch Sex and the City with. A gay man that likes trips to Goodwill and bikerides. A gay man that will not hesitate to be my date at two weddings this summer despite the long drive. A gay man who likes singalongs and Grandmas. A gay man to ward off assholes.
If I get my way I can avoid this dating thing altogether. I can say 'No Sir' without the need to thank an asshole.

The methodical steps I have so gracefully taken in the ruin of my own life are finally coming to a halt in one runon misspelled sentance that will be sure to enthrall you and/or disgust you seeing as how I might just have found a cute little place to call my own sweetly tucked on top of a coffee shop and nestled between two very hip (to hip for me even with my new bangs)little bars along with a job interview that pays well and provides the benefits I may need to stay grounded since I am again surefooted.

 
Bon Voyage

Let's take a trip
To what you can't hear me say
In my quiet little mind.
I will serve you coffee
Black like you like it
And I will make you
Laugh, for what it's worth.

Let's take a trip
To what you can't hear me say
In my mad little mind.
We can watch the seasons change
And comment on the colors.
Red, Brown, pure white and Black.

Let's take trip
To what you can't hear me say
In my sweet little mind.
We can turn up the volume
As loud as you like it
And dance close
Like you want to.

Let's take a trip
To what you can't hear me say
Inside my horrible little mind.
I'll let you play with my thoughts
And toss them about.
You can rearrange the furniture
And barter with my conscience
For the cheapest of thrills.

Let's take a trip
To what you can't hear me say
In my sick little mind.
I'll take you places
You've never been.
Inside and out of dreams
And warped ideas.
You can touch the walls
They're smooth like velvet
And on the floor, there is sand.

Let's take a trip
To what you can't hear me say
In my auspicious little mind.
I urge you to bring warm clothes
It gets chilly at night.
Bring a knife to cut through
The layers of thick soot
And years of pop culture grime.
I have an umbrella to keep you safe
From rocks, bad music, and violent aspirations.

Let's take a trip
To what you can't hear me say
In my devious little mind.
I will write for you ; small nothings
And kiss your neck.
As I push you away,
Pack you into times past,
Just to realize
I don't travel well.