Okay, so I'm back. I'm bored out of my fucking skull but can't think of anything to do. So, since I am super antsy this entry will probably suck. I should have gone to work today, but I decided to be lazy instead. To what end, I'm not sure. I trimmed my hair, I guess that's almost an accomplishment.
Anywho. I have a job interview on Wednesday. That's right, a job I actually can put on a future resume has called me. I thought I would never hear from them again, considering I had applied way back in fucking February and had heard nothing until two days ago. In fact, this job is the dream job that I was so excited to find. It's a neighborhood alliance, and the job is as an organizer. Yay! But I'm kind of suspicious as to why the fuck it took so long...well, we'll see how it goes. If I get this job and I love it and it seems stable, perhaps I'll put off grad school. Or just go part time. Or something. I can't go on stripping forever, really that was supposed to be a short term solution and now I've been in the biz (minus a two month fuck this shit break) since August. So that's nearly a year.
The point of grad school was to get some real training so I could actually get a job I care about. Since I had decided the market sucked enough that the experience and education I already have wasn't going to cut it. Well, I suppose I ought to relax, not count my chickens before their hatched and all that.
Madison was nice, my mom's chemo went well and the anti-nausea drugs they gave here appeared to do the trick. I think she probably is doing better emotionally now that she's actually getting the chemo - as opposed to being anxious about how it's going to be. God, I don't know what people without insurance do. I suppose they just die, I mean, painfully. The anti-nausea meds were $75 a pill. Because she's doing a dose-heavy regime (frequent treatments) she has to give herself these injections to boost her white blood cell count from day 3 through day 10 after the chemo. The injections cost fucking $450 per syringe! That's $3600 per treatment, not to mention the cost of surgery to get the port put in [basically a cork for them to put in the chemo into her neck (cortoroid?) artery rather than fucking up her veins by sticking in a new IV every week] and the chemo itself and the bloodwork and everything else.
Fuck.
I thought the chemo would be like some crazy machine with green fluid, like when you give plasma only it pumps you full of crap instead of taking out yer plasma. But all it was was her chillin on a hospital bed eating butterscotch pudding and angel food cake with an IV attached. The first drug was two huge syringes full of red fluid that the nurse slowly injected through her IV. The second was a small clear bag that was dripped into her IV. Of course, saline solution dripping the whole time as well.
Well, she was doing well enough that I went out on Thursday night with some friends. We had a blast. Apparently Juliette Lewis has a band now called Juliette and the Licks. They played at Union South (teeny tiny band venue at UW-Madison) for free! They were actually pretty decent as well (sort of sultry rock n roll like Joan Jett or something), and JL is just as hot in person as in the movies. And she rocked out pretty well, crowd surfing and all. I was about 20 feet from her; I wasn't in the mood to get into the baby mosh pit in the front. I've always kind of wondered if I would even recognize a "star" if I met one in person, what with TV make up and all that crap. But she looks exactly the same in person, although she does have a more distinctive face than a lot of Hollywood types.
Then I came back to Mpls on Friday with 3 members of the Madlib Players, 2 of whom were staying at my place. I was a terrible hostess, I barely even saw them. Friday night we all pretty much went to bed right away. Saturday morning they went to watch rehearsals of Heart of the Beast's pageant but I wanted to sleep in with Ponge so I didn't go. Then I had to go to a quite enjoyable naming ceremony for my friend's Josh and Mary, who finally squirted out their little grub sucker. They had Ponge cite some blessings from the Koran, and announced his name: Gabriel Azul. Pretty fucking cool, I should say.
Anyway, Josh and Mary's families were up and they are awesome and we had lots of good food and beer. I was supposed to meet my guests back at my house at 6pm but I didn't get back until 8:30pm because I was really enjoying myself and the other people there and just couldn't tear myself away. So I got home to a note saying they went out to eat and they would be at Heart of the Beast theatre later, helping out. I found out an old friend of mine was in town and went to go hang out with her and this girl Chris for awhile. Chris and I are talking about starting an industrial-style jug band thing.
Anyway, after awhile I took a cab to HOBT to go help out and say hello to yea ol guests. Then I got a call from some friends and Josh's sister Ramona who was at the ceremony and who I like quite well. They wanted to go to the bars and hang out and I wasn't feeling up to resisting to I left with them and basically bullshitted and partied until about 5am.
I was supposed to get up at 10am and cook pancakes with me house guests and we were going to go to the parade. Yeah. I did not achieve any sort of consciousness until 2pm, one hour after the parade had already started. I was hungover as fuck and decided to eat some mac n chz to get something in my stomach. I had wanted to throw up the night before, but I just couldn't do it with people who don't drink much sleeping in my living room.
So I ended up throwing up the mac n chz an hour or so later. Let me tell you, it is much more pleasant to hoark mac n chz than to hoark chicken and home made fries (my only other hangover puking experience). After nursing two Sprites and sipping water for about 4 hours, I was able to eat some popcorn.
Blech. If you're going to drink for about 14 hours, don't top off the evening by mixing different types of wine in your belly with all the beer you already drank. And eat a lot and drink a lot of water. I was doing a good job of endless eating during the ceremony and at Chris's house, but once we got to the bowling alley and to Jeff's house I had no eating options any longer.
Anyway, I'm starting to worry about my drinking habits. It's hard when basically everyone I know drinks just as much as I do. So, is this normal or is it fucked up? I mean, wasting a whole day feeling like shit and throwing up mac n chz is a pretty obvious indicator of taking things too far.
The other point, though, is that I never really face any consequences. I mean, people will forgive me for not making it to May Day, and other than my own feeling like crap there are no retributions.
I also need to make sure I moderate my hanging out with Big Ryan. He probably does have a drinking problem, he called me today at about 2:30pm saying he wanted to go get a drink and asking if I wanted to come along. That was in a voicemail, I was tied up and couldn't answer my phone at the time. I haven't called him back. Yikes! I like Ryan, but I don't want to go drinking at 2:30pm just because I have money and there are bars. The other day was sort of a process, I hadn't particularly planned on drinking all day long. And I don't need to repeat that process any time soon.
Benders are fun now and again, but not this close together. Aside from the fact that I do have an interview tomorrow and I would like to have my brain fully with me for the day.
Hmm...whether or not I drink too much..well, no, I know I drink too much. Rather, whether or not my excessive drinking could be considered problem drinking seems so relevant, so contextual. In my crowd, I'm perfectly normal. In Senegal, I'd probably be a cause for concern. My dad would say I drink too much, my mom would probably just say to keep an eye on it. I mean, I don't think I'm fucking up my life or being shitty to people or starting fights and I definitly never drive when drinking. Probably the worst thing is my liver or how I eye candy while drunk or the money I waste on alcohol that could be spent on something lasting and useful.
Maybe I should keep a drinking journal for a week or two. Not change my behavior, just note how much I spend, how much time I spend, where I go, what I do, and with whom. Etcetera. Then I can analyse where I can cut back or come up with a spending limit or some such crap. I always have such great plans like this, I wonder if I'll actually follow through with it. Heh.