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Paige you are damn cool

And I feel like a jackass on many levels.

But yeah, you rock.

[Y tu tambien, Razanova.]

about Espresso Royale…

I take back what I said. The manager let me go behind the counter and observe things, and Kristin was extremely nice and informative in showing the process and whatnot. Faith has been restored.

I spent nearly an hour in the kitchen area, mostly because I concentrated less on remembering and more on getting things down on paper. I'm new to reporting; I'll learn with practice.

And I ran into one of our new landlords today (the old one, Jeremy, was somewhat ‘white trash’ and a bit of an asshole; he took another job out of nowhere). The new guy is much nicer than Jeremy, and I honestly think he's a frat boy. Or a post-frat boy newly making his way into the world. But we're finally getting our own laundry room key.

Keep going, Good Luck.

detours

Everytime I walk down 6th Street, near Discount Den, I keep an eye out for Jerome, a guy who's twice asked (and once been given) money. He's nice. His clothes are in good shape. He seems to be in good health. Why doesn't he just get a job at a temp agency? There are cash payment outfits around.

Anyway, I'm walking towards Cafe Paradiso on Oregon and forget that there's major construction on Goodwin, so I have to walk down a street, follow the fence around, then walk back towards Oregon. In the humidity and heat that has absolutely no place in my autumn.

And I'm walking to Paradiso because the jackhole at Espresso Royale couldn't help me out on my journalism paper on how to make a mocha. ‘We're technically not allowed to tell anyone how we make our drinks. You'll have to ask the main boss,’ he says (to that affect).

My favorite Espresso Royale location, the one I've applied to a million times without receiving a callback, the one I've dumped roughly $300 into, shot me down. Used and tossed out. I may never go back there again.

Paradiso was no fun. The atmosphere is interesting. But Kris, the guy behind the counter, went through the steps a bit fast. And it wasn't like the scene I'd imagined and rehearsed in my head, where I'd go behind the counter and observe, casually chatting with the barista about the intricacies and pitfalls of making mochas, about his/her favorite drink to make, what flavor shots are popular, etc..

I had to wait behind the counter like everyone else. And after he finished the mocha? ‘…that'll be $2.65’. My favorite drink has lost a lot of its appeal.

There is no such thing as infinity, either. Recurse enough and you'll always get back to the building blocks of the universe, which remain constant. Subatomic particles make up atomic particles which make up basic elements which combine in too many different combinations which interact in a complex way that just goes beyond human thinking. But it's still atoms. And there's still God, because this universe is a closed system for mortals. Right?

Eh, anything to avoid work.

in conclusion

Stress does bad things to my sleep.

Jeans bought several months ago have been worn today for the first time.

The utility shelf meant for a garage is re-assembled and holding things for me.

I should've prepared for the midterm. Starting weeks ago.

Can I really stand another year on this campus? Maybe taking all seemingly interesting and enjoyable classes will negate this feeling.

Giving and receiving hugs and kisses (on the neck) is always so nice.