These past two days have been really, really strange. Strange in the surreal, my-life-is-a-sitcom sort of way. Allow me to deliver some of the highlights:
- The Fonz decided that everybody here should have a new name. A commune name. Some people have cool Biblical names while others are named after state capitols. Some people are stones or flowers. My neighbors on either side of me are now Sparkle and VuVu. I am Sweater. Yes, like the article of clothing you wear when it is cold out. The Fonz came up with it.
- The guy I met the other day is a regular in that coffee shop and I saw him again. I had another great conversation with him, but was turned off by the fact that he kept checking his email while I was talking. It also came up that there's a significant age difference between us. There was an awkward moment where he said something along the lines of, "You know...I was coaching track when you were in middle school...I could have been your track coach." There was a pause, followed by a mutual "that's weird." Oh well. At least I have a cool new coffee shop friend.
- I went on a grocery shopping mission with The Fonz. This involved pretending we were a married couple and calling each other by our fake commune names throughout the store.
- I got the world's weirdest text message tonight. I don't need to go into what it actually said, but it's proof that grown adults are still completely capable of acting like they are in middle school. Let's just say that somebody in the commune who is my mother's age started a downright absurd rumor about me. And then she had the nerve to text me about it to ask if it was true.
- I discovered that there are mice running around in the commune. I haven't seen any in my room, but I saw one in the kitchen tonight and I screamed like a melodramatic little girl. Now I'm all paranoid.
- I swallowed my pride today and contacted the guy who owns the restaurant downstairs. He's finally hiring people. I'm not really that enthusiastic about working there, but I really need a job. Looks like it's time to be a waitress...*insert profanity here*
- I keep thinking that it's time to travel. I'm still trying to figure out where. I need to invent an excuse to go somewhere cool and have new experiences. I love Portland and I adore the commune (for the most part), but it's all getting a little too small and slightly weird. Okay, people in the hallway here say "Hi, Sweater!" when I walk by. That probably counts as more than slightly weird...
That's all I've got. I'm sure I'm probably leaving something out, but those are the highlights.
Peace out, amigos.
