public transportation, you're the only one for me

I miss riding the bus. Everything that was good about it is stripped away by driving somewhere yourself (although so is everything that's bad about it, to be fair). I miss when coughing fits weren't treacherous and when I had time to listen to more than three or four songs before I reach my destination, and being able to fully absorb and appreciate them instead of treating them like background noise. I miss spacing out totally and completely in a way that trudging from the K-Mart parking lot while trying to dodge traffic and make it to school before I catch hypothermia doesn't offer (although, to be fair again, this offers several other new oppurtunities, like browsing through K-Mart in 5th period because I couldn't stand sitting in the library anymore).

this will be brief

...because I have that post-pizza eating sinking feeling in my stomach that always means only one thing.

I'm starting to feel a little bit like I live at work.

stella was a diver and she got her groove back

Boy, do I have a weekend to tell you about! Well, at least a Saturday night. The rest of the weekend I worked, but even that was actually more enjoyable than it sounds. I realized that having someone start to bus tables while I'm already preoccupied with other ones doesn't mean that I'm going too slow, it means that it's busy as fuck and I'm only one person. So I'm considerably less exhausted after work now that I've stopped trying to work so frantically (on Saturday night I started to get pains in my chest and several facefulls of water/milkshake from how fast I was trying to wash dishes during the dinner rush).

So, about Saturday. It's not really much of a secret that I'm sort of a fanboy for Tegan and Sara. I tried not to spoil the concert by using up all my excitement at work, so I kind of put it into the back of my mind and enjoyed the slow business that the afternoon brings and ate lots of Count Chocula and Boo Berries and drank too much coffee. I drove home, watched a few youtube videos and got pumped as fuck.

I'll just skip all the other mundane details. Basically, I can say in full confidence that I have never enjoyed myself at a concert as much as I did that night. It didn't matter that it was in a theater and you were assigned to a seat (everyone stood anyway, but it was still sort of lame), or that my only company was my little sister (not to say that she's a buddy concert buddy, because she's not), but... yeah. I almost got a little depressed just because I realized it was going to be over and I had to go home at some point. It was all I thought about the next day.
I know that sounds kind pathetic, but I would say this is the first time that I've ever seen my absolute favorite band of the moment and was overwhelmingly excited about it (I kind of missed out on this kind of experience back when I was crazy over AFI and the Mars Volta, neither of which I have any desire to see nowadays).


So, yeah. Now I have a five day weekend that's supposed to be for applying to colleges. But I have the house to myself for a few hours, so I stood next to my washing machine wearing nothing but a Michael Meyers mask while I waited for my laundry to be done.

(rush lyrics go here)

This boring documentation of adapting to new sorroundings has reached a turning point: for the first time in seventeen years of existence, I have a job. A real one!

Now I can look forward to building character by handling dirty dishes and bussing tables, and doing various other forms of bitch work. As long as I don't waste all of my money on CDs and 10,000 packs of cigarettes (the temptation to do this will be powerful), all funds will go to the Get Alex Tack The Fuck Out of Minnesota foundation.

Speaking of which, for the time being this is no longer as desperate of a cause. I actually had a pretty nice weekend. This isn't to say that I no longer want to make a trip back to Pennsylvania, because I do. More than just about anything. Until then I'll just keep cycling through songs that hold sentimental/nostalgic value and writing lame blog entries.

welcome to blandrock

Dear blog,


I just don't know what to do with you anymore. I'm just not in a very funny blog entry-kind of mood, and everything else seems kind of mundane. If I had a camera I would take pictures, if I did anything other than run several miles a day, read, and other miscillaneous/banal things I would describe that to you, but I don't. I'm not complaining; none of this actually bothers me. It doesn't really seem worth typing, though.

I'm doing pretty well in school so far, but it's only been a month, so who knows how my consistency might waver in the future. I met with my guidance counselor yesterday. Due to my aforementioned inconsistency, I'm not really sure how the whole college application process will go. I guess as long as it's in the Philadelphia area I'll be happy (which doesn't seem like it would be that much of a long-shot), although Temple would be pretty ideal since everyone seems to like it there so much.


I really do want to get a job to support funds for plane tickets and a somewhat expanding record collection. But I've wanted a job for over a year and a half now, so...


Who knows!