Arthur: Just renting

In other circumstances, I might enjoy St. Patrick's Day in Boston. After all, remember how excited I was about covering a beer festival last August? I'm almost afraid to think what "Ashlyn" did last night. It's not as though she has trouble getting a free drink most nights, but a red-headed Irish-American lass in Boston on Saint Patty's Day? And that's if she doesn't feel like working it.

Heh. I might never have another beer, once I get my life back.

Although, when you think about it, getting my life back is going to be strange. I meant to mention it in my last post, but I sort of got sidelined into self-pity, but Jeremy has gotten a job since we last talked. He mentioned that money was getting tight when I talked to him on the day we made reservations, so he started looking for work that he could do and could also get with my résumé. He wound up landing at the Oakland Raiders, doing public relations work. The job involves a lot of writing press releases, but it doesn't take an English degree to do that. A lot of the job is going to be lining up personal appearances, serving as a liaison with the local press, keeping the players and team in the public eye.

I admit, I've looked at jobs like that before. The life of a freelancer is uncertain, and I had my mom to look after. The trouble is, I needed flexibility, too, so I basically took any job that came my way so that I always had two things going at once. It sounds like a fun job, but I don't know if I want to go back to punching a clock after eight months of doing it at the movie theater. I know Jeremy made a commitment, but...

He probably didn't say that "Arthur" would only be there temporarily, because who'd hire him then? But I figure I'll find some way of exiting gracefully, and if not... Well, then not. I guess at some point, you have to cut bait.

It reminds me of something I was thinking about in the bookstore the other day. There's a few pretty nice bookstores in Boston and Cambridge, and Harvard Square is a nice area for it, although Ray says he misses Wordsworth's. There's still children's, travel, and even poetry bookstores there. There's the Harvard Co-op and the Harvard Book Store, which is not officially associated with the University but has a pretty fantastic selection of remainders and used books. I can spend hours down there, during the day when Ray's working and I'm not.

I got up to the counter with an armful of books on Friday. I was standing in line when I realized that I might not have time to read them all in the next couple months. I suppose I could bring them to Old Orchard with me, but my mind kept concocting scenarios where Ray was reading them or, something. I get the same feeling in Best Buy, too - that even though I've been the one working all week and earning the paycheck, anything I pay for... I'll be leaving it behind. Just a two month rental, no matter how much I pay for it.

-Art

Ashlyn--Busy girl

Even a waitress can have a hard week at work. Sure, there are busy nights, but a busy week is rare. The problem was a little more than half of the wait staff caught the stomach flu that has been going around. Suddenly I was picking up everybody’s shift. Oh well, I like to be busy.

I think my being busy has been harder on Matt than it has been on me—he’s just about called me every day. We’ve gone out twice more since Valentine’s Day and we kind of did a repeat performance of Valentine’s night. I wonder if it’s normal for a woman to enjoy sex and be frustrated at the same time? What’s really annoying is he keeps telling me “you were amazing” and seems totally oblivious whenever I don’t have an orgasm. When we had lunch together, I kidded Art about Stewart being “selfish in bed”—maybe it’s me who is sleeping with someone selfish.

Or maybe I’m not doing something right—I’m still figuring out how to be a member of the pink team after all.

And speaking of figuring out how to be a woman…

I like taking the T. (That’s the subway, for anyone reading this and has never been to Boston) Where I am from, Dallas, they are still in the early stages of getting public transportation—so nobody uses it yet. But here in Boston, just about everyone rides the T at some point. With the exception of walking in the cold to and from the station, the T is very convenient. I have learned I can’t take the T during “rush hour” hours. When everyone is trying to get home and the subway cars get so full that people are standing shoulder to shoulder—I find guys get very handsy. I tend to dress not so conservatively, so I am used to getting stared at. That’s looking and not touching, and as a former guy I can appreciate the need to give an attractive woman a once over. The groping however, is not so cool. It bothers me so much that if a subway car is too full I’ll just wait for the next one—which is crazy when you think about it. It’s the year 2007 and a woman has to wait an extra twenty to thirty minutes sometimes because perverts can’t keep their hands to themselves in public places.
Hmph. I spoke to Jessica about the scooter I received from my secret admirer, and she recommended not keeping it—but if it keeps some strangers hands off my ass, I may consider keeping it and using it.

BTW—Jessica is coming to visit around St. Patrick’s Day. I told her she could sleep on our couch and we could hang (and discuss the Trading Post Inn and my secret admirer) whenever I wasn’t working—which will be a lot. The radio station I do promotion work for time to time has hired me to be a part of their St. Patrick Day festivities. Apparently my red hair, green eyes and fair skin screams St. Patty’s day.

--More later,

Ashlyn