Amongst other things, reviews of The Greenhornes at the Northcote Social Club, Yeasayer at Billboards, Black Swan, The Fighter, and True Grit (which I'll finally be watching tomorrow morning).
Unfortunately, I've been working two jobs almost every day. The resulting crankiness, tiredness, compounded by the disgustingly muggy weather Melbourne's been groaning through means that my two most recent posts have been mostly exercises in stupidity, and "HURR HURR BOYS".
When I get home, it's all I can do to change into pyjamas, flop into bed or the couch, and get onto Reddit. Even then, it's not as if I go to /r/worldnews or /r/politics, I immediately head to /r/pics. Such is the tired state of my brain.
|Fuck the news. This is what we want.|
I'm going to South America in May.
Call it what you will. Putting off entering the Real World, looking for More Adventures, Bailing from Melbourne Duddness ... either way, it's happening, and it's what I've needed to get off my ass. You know, it's so much easier to get off one's ass and actually DO THINGS when one has something to work towards, to look towards. Gone are the days of not getting out of bed if I didn't have to go to work. Watching crappy movies all night? BitchNAH, I've got to go to TWO JOBS TOMORROW, because I have a GOAL.
Goals. They're good. Useful. Useful for things. Enduring things. Earlier this year it was looking forward to going to Perth. Something shitty happened? That's okay, just think about getting to Perth. Then I'd feel a little better. So I went to Perth. Fidgety the entire trip over, looking forward to finally spending some time with Mitts. A week of fun, then back to reality. Eurgh. Reality.
So now it's South America. In May. Meeting up with Linc in Peru. Then we travel. Have Adventures. Then I'll come back in August, ready (finally) to make something of myself.
As much as I'm looking forward to South America though, there's only so much "Just think about how awesome it'll be just think about how awesome it'll be justthinkabouthowawesomeit'llbe" thinking I can do during a day of waitressing then calling people to quiz them about a certain bank that rhymes with "Pestwac". Dumb, dumb people that seem to be unable to figure out that me asking them to pick a number between one and ten to rate something doesn't mean that their answer to the question should be "yes".
I spend the time between phone calls, hearing the phone ring ring ring beep, scribbling in my notebook. When before there was writing, now are dumb drawings. Some are amusing, most are idiotic. When you works two jobs, one of which is mind-numbingly boring, you end up finding ways to amuse yourself and break up the day. So I found a "barista" at the local Starbucks to flirt with. Then I discovered that the French guy at the other coffee shop is hotter, and French-er, and sells far superior coffee (no kidding). I eavesdrop on my co-workers' conversations. They range from the inane to the hilarious. If I'm feeling energetic I'll try and beat my score from the previous day as far as my interviews go. Hm. What's written on the cute bar's chalkboard this evening? It's a Tuesday? Let's watch the little sluts head towards The Hawthorn.
I think I'd quite like to tell the guy that sits next to me that his tats are really quite rad. I'd also quite like to keep talking to that Belgian girl, continue that conversation where I raved about how much I loved Brussels. Funnily enough though, I can't be bothered. I'm halfway between being pleased with and disappointed with that. The fact that I can't be bothered making friends. Admittedly, I started this job during my "I HATE EVERYTHING, GODDAMNIT!" phase, so now it seems like I've missed the boat pal-wise. But at the same time, I'm perfectly happy turning up, taking some phone calls, getting a coffee during the break, then making some more phone calls, and bailing home to collapse on the couch.
It's alright though. A day off tomorrow. A day off. And in a couple of months, this:
Llamas with Linc. Sombreros and Incan ruins and you know, Adventures.