How I Spent My Summer Vacation

Oh my good lord I've been gone along time. "Gone" from my blog, that is. I don't know what happened, yo. Crazy summer? Frequent drunkeness? Brain injury that resulted in the loss of my ability to form complete words and/or sentances? Untimely escape of the house-monkey that used to write my blog for me? Well, half of those are true, anyway. I'll leave you to guess which two are correct.

So, let's see, where was I?

Everyone told me that summer was slow in Portland. The college kids are gone, and the weekend douche-bag crowd goes down to Old Orchard Beach to douche it up every weekend. Everyone kept telling me, but I didn't exactly understand how a bar in a city could ever reeeeeally be slow. Yeah, well. It was slow. Painfully slow. Get-out-of-work-at-7pm-on-a-Saturday-night-with-$30-in-your-pocket kind of slow. After spending my savings purchasing the new used car to replace the old used car, I pretty much thought I'd be living in said car before long. Summer was stressful.

But it was also a shitload of fun. I pretty much figured, "fuck, if I work I'm not going to make any money anyway, so I might as well take time off and enjoy myself." So I did just that, working more weekday shifts (when the small number of staff resulted in more money than usual) and took more weekends off (when the massive number of staff resulted in splitting three quarters, a fuzzy bit of pocket lint, and a wint-o-green tic tac between my fellow bartenders). I got to see my Boy every week and do lots of fun summery things. Although none of those things included my favorite summer past time, going to the beach, because the ocean water IS FUCKING COLDER THAN FUCK IN MAINE! Oooo kay. I feel better now.

The end of summer was not as terrible as it usually is for me, because I have been very much looking forward to fall and winter activities this year. When I think back to last fall, at how terrified I was about my move to Maine... whether it was a massive mistake.... whether my Boy and I were going to work it all out with the distance... what the hell I was going to do with my life... It all seems like some kind of unsettling dream that I can't shake off. It seems odd and out of place with the direction my life is moving in now. I'm in love and he's in love and we're in love (retch! retch! we're so gross! seriously.) I'm figuring a way into grad school next year for my masters and eventually, gulp, a real job. And I'm planning a move to somehow lessen the distance between me and the old man so I don't go completely insane and talk to my cats any more than I already do.

And most of all?

I'm getting a new fricken summer job.