This is to stop all the e-mails of “Where are you?” and “Why haven’t you updated?” Sheesh. I’m here, I’m here. If I don’t update in a few days, don’t trip. I do exist in a little realm known as real life, you know….

So let’s see…what’s transpired since the last entry….

  • I’m in the last step of this dreadful interview process for this new position. I don’t want to jinx anything, but I really hope I hear something soon because I’m taking next week off from work.
  • I may actually be going home. Well, maybe not going home, but definitely leaving Atlanta. I need a break.
  • Saturday was an interesting day. A gay man walks into a proctologist’s office and…stop me if you’ve heard this before.
  • I flirted with the idea of putting out a personal ad, but I have the worst luck with them. It’s not that I don’t get responses; I usually get a good number. It’s just that if I end up showing someone my picture online, we talk, and it doesn’t work out, I usually end up meeting that person inadvertently in real life, and they want to act a fool. Most recent outburst happened Sunday evening while picking through the artichokes and some jackass exclaims “Well if it ain’t that punk muthafucka ########## from Adam4Adam!”
  • I joined Netflix on Friday out of sheer boredom. First DVD in the queue? Run Lola Run.
  • This guy‘s got a piece in “The Flow” magazine which is pretty tight. Like, go read it and stuff.
  • Work is cool. The folks who work here gettin’ on my nerves though. On the average, I’m pretty cool with a bunch of people here (well, except the ones I talk about), but today was an interesting exception. We’ve got these temps which just took up residence right behind our desks. And they’re some ol’ Cross Colours dressin’, Karl Kani wearing, circa 1993 Black folks, OK? I don’t know where they yanked these folks from. Anyway, I’m talkin’ with Hippie and we’re shootin’ the shit about growing up in the country, going to public school, etc. and he says something like “Well you’re so well-spoken….” We both laugh, since given the context of the conversation he was talking about being well-spoken for going to public school. The temp right behind me raises up and is like “Oh, oh, so you sayin’ he well-spoken because he’s a nigga? Huh?” Temp looks at me. I look at Hippie. Hippie looks at me. Temp continues on about how he doesn’t like this guy and how “y’all crackas ain’t shit”, thus leaving me in an awkward position for the rest of the day.

Calgon…take me away….