I finally feel like things are on track.
Despite all my time-wasting efforts, I seem to have pulled together the beginnings of more than enough stories to cover my ass this quarter. I should be able to turn in two Monday, another by Tuesday, and with a little luck more by Wednesday or Thursday. That's four or five in a week! That would bring me up to seven stories. Seven! That's only two away from the required nine! Even if I got eight, my ass would still be all right. So of course this will come tumbling down, but hell. Right now, it's seeming all right.
Many thanks to Julie for being AWESOME and Aja for hooking me up with another sunburn victim.
This is why I could never make it as a real reporter: I suck.
Anyway, in lieu of sticking around and pounding down doors for stories, I'm headed to the beach. With Kevin, whenever he wakes up and feels ready to go. So probably not for a long while.
My sister got frustrated with the San Francisco scene, which requires money and tolerance for annoying roommates to have a good time, neither of which she possesses. She hopped on a Greyhound bound for Portland Wednesday afternoon and ought to be kicking it in the... well, drizzle, for all I know, but kicking it in Seaside with mom now. It'll be fun to see them both, although, strangely, I just *did* a couple weeks ago.
It's funny how I seldom visit people at home anymore. I don't even see my mom at her house. I see her in Oregon, at...yeah, her other house, but not THE house, the in-Olympia house with mail delivery, garbage service, and internet access.
Speaking of garbage, I was good and took the garbage out last night. I even checked to see if this week was a recycling week. It's not. I re-did the white board calendar to reflect which weeks are recycling, too.
Kevin was extremely talkative yesterday. This is rare for him, but it was delightful. Not that he is usually utterly silent with me, he's not; he just usually doesn't talk about a whole lot. Last night he had a whole lot to say and was full of energy. I told him it was "cute."
He said: "Aww, look, Kevin's talking. Listen to his little voice. How cute!"
"I didn't mean like that!"
But it was cute. Or attractive. Or something.
He had gone to Bellevue to meet with a headhunter--with whom he was rather unimpressed--and visit his friend Simon. He pondered why he was so talkative and upbeat.
"I think maybe it's because I had to do things today."
"That's what I've been telling you for months!"
He had no idea what I was talking about, but I swear I've tried to tell him a katrillion times that he will be more likely to do stuff if he has to do other stuff. Having some purpose in life beget doing other stuff. At least, it seems to be a better motivator than having nothing to do but work on songs if the mood strikes and visit your girlfriend when she's around and not totally bitchy. He still had no idea what I was talking about.
He even washed one of his own dishes. It was a first.
Wednesday night was also fun. I went out to Wallingford with Christine and had dinner with Josie on the floor of her theater. Josie had us on the list for a free movie, so we saw Spellbound, a documentary about ten kids who went to the National Spelling Bee in 1999. It was excellent, except that the kids we rooted for the most at the beginning got eliminated early on. I drove Christine to her brother's house, where she'll be living when she moves back to Seattle. It's way up at 125th, but a nice house indeed.
listening: the sounds of distant garbage trucks