In the news:
Strange week. Called a Friday night poker game, so I've got to get the apartment ready for that. The building was bought last month, and my lease expires at the end of this month. I got a notice slid under my door Saturday night, while I was out catching H Is For Hellgate at Cafe Venus.
Turns out my rent got hiked by 20%, from $830 to $990. That's a more reasonable market price for a two-bedroom/two-bath with a washer/dryer and its own water heater, 1,050 sq ft and a great view west.
But not a good time for the free market to reassert itself. So I need to get a roommate, or a higher-paying (and steady) job, or I have to relocate. What a drag.
My temp assignment got extended by two weeks. Legal support, I like it. Though the past few days have been weird: had to work on some property maps as part of a litigation presentation. They didn't want to pay for a color reproduction, so we had to color in the black-and-white copies. I've spent the last two days, at $16.50/hour, coloring. This was enough of a brain-drain that when I got off work yesterday, I drove up to the K-Mart on Aurora and bought myself an MP3 player. Never had one of these, but I didn't want to lug around my CD Walkman, and this was a 512M recorder going for $60.
I dig it: way cool. I was up til 2:30am loading the software onto my computer, and then stepping through the tutorial (since the player didn't come with any printed instructions). I just moved over my laptop's Rolling Stones folder--86 songs, that's enough for one work day. And so I had The Stones for the bus ride downtown, for my hours coloring in maps of sewage and storm drains, and for my nap on the bus ride home. Also, this thing has a voice recorder: so I can go around like an arrogant writer dictating notes to myself. Just what I needed.
But the first note I made to myself, I swore I'd write out here. It's this, from my friend Mason: he noticed the Godfather poster I have in my living room, and wondered out loud how soon it'd be before they got around to remaking The Godfather. I thought about it, and realized that at the rate they're going in Hollywood, it'll be about a decade, maybe two. In other words: I'll live long enough to see them remake Godfather.
Been hearing a lot from friends my own age, talking about how aging toward 40 seems daunting. I don't get it.
Or rather, didn't--til I had to wonder who'd they get to play Michael. Then I felt old.
Turns out my rent got hiked by 20%, from $830 to $990. That's a more reasonable market price for a two-bedroom/two-bath with a washer/dryer and its own water heater, 1,050 sq ft and a great view west.
But not a good time for the free market to reassert itself. So I need to get a roommate, or a higher-paying (and steady) job, or I have to relocate. What a drag.
My temp assignment got extended by two weeks. Legal support, I like it. Though the past few days have been weird: had to work on some property maps as part of a litigation presentation. They didn't want to pay for a color reproduction, so we had to color in the black-and-white copies. I've spent the last two days, at $16.50/hour, coloring. This was enough of a brain-drain that when I got off work yesterday, I drove up to the K-Mart on Aurora and bought myself an MP3 player. Never had one of these, but I didn't want to lug around my CD Walkman, and this was a 512M recorder going for $60.
I dig it: way cool. I was up til 2:30am loading the software onto my computer, and then stepping through the tutorial (since the player didn't come with any printed instructions). I just moved over my laptop's Rolling Stones folder--86 songs, that's enough for one work day. And so I had The Stones for the bus ride downtown, for my hours coloring in maps of sewage and storm drains, and for my nap on the bus ride home. Also, this thing has a voice recorder: so I can go around like an arrogant writer dictating notes to myself. Just what I needed.
But the first note I made to myself, I swore I'd write out here. It's this, from my friend Mason: he noticed the Godfather poster I have in my living room, and wondered out loud how soon it'd be before they got around to remaking The Godfather. I thought about it, and realized that at the rate they're going in Hollywood, it'll be about a decade, maybe two. In other words: I'll live long enough to see them remake Godfather.
Been hearing a lot from friends my own age, talking about how aging toward 40 seems daunting. I don't get it.
Or rather, didn't--til I had to wonder who'd they get to play Michael. Then I felt old.
posted by Russ the Librarian at 10:43 PM
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