So I bet you've all been wondering what the hey I've been doing with myself. If you haven't been wondering, at least have the decency to pretend to have been wondering. Geez.
I got a job! Okay, kinda a job! I will be temping for a company in SF that staffs conventions. You know, registration, scanning badges, making sure all those very rich people have all the stuff they need. I'm excited because it's another event planning bit to add to my resume.
I will likely begin couch surfing on a more permanent basis sometime in June. Starla and RJ are so fantastic for letting me do this. I crash into their lives pretty regularly now, and I honestly couldn't do it without them.
The only real bummer is that it sucks more to be broke down here. There is actual stuff to do, places to go...and no money to do it with. crap.
Okay, on to other news: I've been thinking about my upcoming 10 year high school reunion. It's been the default topic of conversation around here for at least a month now. The latest thing is the discussion about where to stay. We've almost got it pegged at spending too much money on a room at the hotel attached to the casino where the event is being held. It's more than we wanted to spend, but we'll be able to stumble into the elevator without too much danger or effort.
Another big point of discussion is who I'm going to bring as my date. Starla helpfully got on the Internet and began researching mail order husbands for me. Thanks. I HAD a date. I had a fantastic date. I had a boy that is the best "plus one" you could ask for. He's well mannered, attentive and not too hard on the eyes either. I had it all worked out in my head about how many girls were going to be staring at my date and asking him which way the beach is. (This is a thinly veiled reference to the size of his biceps. Which are considerably large, BTW)
Then, THEN, the reunion planning committee set the date for just about the only time he can't make it. Damn. There goes not only my best option for someone I will be able to stand sitting next to all night, but it also takes away my excuse for fondling the previously mentioned biceps. Damn.
So, I'm not going alone. I cannot do it. I can not leave a potential opening for all my life accomplishments to be swallowed up by the question "Oh, so you're single?" Ugh.