So there.
Let�s also get this out of the way: I lied. I did not actually stop at the courthouse this morning and get registered in the proper precinct for voting purposes. Maybe this is small and selfish of me, but I need to live on the hope that I will not be here for the next vote. Okay? Surely you understand.
That felt nice. What else can I confess? Maybe that I did call Prospective Suburban Employer the other day, promptly after a meeting with the head of my present office. She rang me back later; I feel like we should go shopping together and make snarky comments about dubious fashions and such. Maybe catch a Beth Orton show. And I feel bad that she�s decided to not hire anyone, based on my reaction, when she really needs the help.
So I sent off a resume to Brown today, in hopes that they�ll soon tire of hearing from me and give me an interview. But we both know that they�re really just pleased to have another copy of my resume/cover letter to use as high-quality scratch paper. Another copy�s headed off toward Boston when I leave work today, but I don�t hold any hopes for that, either. These are, however, The Little Things That Get One By.
Random capitalization, here we come!
And hell, if I were closer to The Kate, we could actually take that trip to London. (I am still following through with the passport thing�my gift to myself. Though I could desperately use a bloody Palm, so maybe I wouldn�t miss so many meetings. And a DVD player, so that I may enjoy �Lovely and Amazing� to the greatest possible extent. But that�s all.) Or Worcester. Doesn�t really matter to me. And every now and then, I could drive to western MA for a cup of vegetarian chili at the Java Hut. I can�t tell you how I crave it, how hard I�ve tried to replicate it.
So now the rambling brings me closer to what one probably hopes is my final point: Thanksgiving. My aunt is hosting, but since she won�t have much time to prepare, she�s planning a menu of soup, sandwiches, salads and dessert. I could potentially avoid the temptation of potato bologna in this, my first real year as a vegetarian. But when one comes from a long line of farming folk, vegetarianism isn�t taken too kindly, so I don�t expect any sort of concessions for my diet. They were lovely about adding ham and cranberry sauce to the family dinners when it was determined that I was allergic to poultry, but this is different. This is what seems to them a foolish and unnatural choice. So clearly I must volunteer to bring a non-meat soup, if I wish to eat, and I needn�t bring very much, because nobody�ll try it. Save my mom, maybe, who�s strangely proud that I, the odd child, have now added vegetarianism to my long list of quirks. And the point is simply that I could use some suggestions for soups that might be enticing to family members, aside from the vegetarian chili that�s currently multiplying in the fridge.
Yeah. So that�s my Thanksgiving. The married siblings will theoretically be in attendance, as well. We�ll talk about the forthcoming nephew. What�re your plans?
Oh, and you should know, I�m Rob Gordon from High Fidelity. Surprise, surprise. You?
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Back to work with me. Papers await shuffling, whilst I prepare more passive sentences for your entertainment.