so i've been working about forty hours per week, give or take about an hour or so. it's not a rough job. in fact, it's rather simple. spray and wipe down toilets, mop floors, clean mirrors, squeegee the smoking areas. but it's right in there with the filth, which is where i think i need to be to really get my mind bent back into shape. maybe it's all the pot or maybe it was the stress of last semester, or maybe it was all the back-breaking acrobatic sex or the near constant fondling of reptilian hot air balloon-esque mongoloid barbarian genitals...i ramble...but something reached into my head, found the tits of my brain and squeezed them purple, rendering much of my intellect useless (the teets of my brain are where i store my usually somatic wit and charm.)
this job, being down on my knees in the filth is where my mind can ponder things. i'm making quick jokes again and teaching people things about the world and about science and philosophy. the job itself is so easy that it takes up only a sliver of my brain power. all the rest is free to wander and wonder.

i deal with a healthy assortment of perverts and bitches on a daily basis, which is not too far from what i would deal with at any job. the moronic and Sasquatch-like supervisor buffalo stomps about with a permanent scowl and an insatiable appetite for telling people where and when and how to do their jobs.

i walk away every day with a bunch of money in the bank and a piece of my proverbial soul gnashed away by the teeth of the filth-mongering wombat-orphaning bastards in charge. but the important part is the money, so i'm going back to work tomorrow.

i think i'm back

for the first time since new orleans, i'm starting to feel like writing again. i've been working...as a janitor, nonetheless, for a couple of weeks now. sick stuff. drunk hillbillies and their fat, unhealthy offspring have horrible aim. their rank waste however, is not subject to the same treatment as themselves and the other valued guests. i can go up to every piece of shit i see and say, "i hate you!" without fearing punishment, and the shits themselves don't have the necessary biological composition to argue with or annoy me.
on the crowded days i am actually saved from performing the filthy tasks by long lines of valued guests waiting in agony to heir their disgusting grievances with already soiled toilets. no way in fugginell are they going to let me waste their precious time with my foolish notions of cleanliness and sanitation.
on the other hand, there are days where i'm showered with thank yous and smiles from orderly and benevolent humans who wait for me to finish my job, and who always seem to have an idea about what it's like to clean up shit for a living. very few stupid questions. 
on a bad day, when someone asks me if i like my job, i want to look them dead in the eye and say with passionate conviction, "i love it. i fuggin love cleaning up shit. your shit, your kids' shit. everybody's shit. see that guy there? i love cleaning his shit too. it's what gets me up in the morning. i live for it," just to see their reaction. they'd either be confused, disturbed, or deeply amused. and those who would be deeply amused are the people i'd like to hang out with. thankfully, most of the people i work with in housekeeping are those types of people.

so yeah, i guess i like my shitty job. as much as it can offend and sicken me, i seem to work in a small community of people who have the both the same sense of humor about the job as i do, based on the same contempt for the job as i do.

it's going to be a long, gross, summer.

 sara picked me up from the airport. it was great to come back to her and then get home to see kate, ethan, sam, and annie-grace at my house. 

got back to danbury last night, went to visit liz (to whom i wish a speedy recovery) and stayed at sara's. i have a bunch of work to finish this week, but it shouldn't be too bad.

this morning, my first one back in danbury, i happened to step on the remains of a shattered pink and yellow bucket that once said, "happy easter." all around were squashed sweets still in their wrappers, surrounded by broken blue plastic easter eggs. i couldn't help but feel bad for the little kid who had to witness that happen after all of his or her valiant egg-hunting.

then i saw a positive pregnancy test smashed in some mud and leaves. not exactly sure if it was a dream or nightmare come true for the previous owner. either way, i hope everything works out alright.

it's a shitty, rainy monday and i think some drinks are in order for later. i have to get that work done at some point, too.

i hope this transition back to studious underachiever from ramblin'new orleans bar-hopper is easy...i gotta get my head straight.

so tonight is my last night. tonight we got to frenchmen street and whaddya know...fucking pirates. pirates everywhere. young, old, slutty, playing snare drums, tubas, trumpets, cornets...selling bar food by cart with rum on tap.
alison and i bar-hopped for a while. started at the 'arr bar' in front of which was a cute little thing in cutoff shorts selling tamales out of her bike-cart. fucking guatemalans loved those shits, according to her.

saw this amazing brass band that played a version of 'chameleon' by herbie hancok that actually wasn't boring (listen to the album version of the song and see what i mean)
saw a great reggae band at the maison. (i danced my white ass off and had to get it replaced with a black one)

some guy was hitting on my sister and had i not been surrounded by great food, great music, and great people, i woulda socked him in the throat before he coulda said "hey baby"

fucked up a guy's shot at pool (by accident, and it wasn't an important shot. he blew, anyway)

talked to a drunk guy and found him 2o minutes later passed out in a barber's chair (apparently a hot choice of bar furniture) with a cigarette burning into his pants. i politely hit him in the shoulder to wake him up. he then proceeded to stumble out into the darkness. he's either got nobody or a pissed off significant other probably still waiting for him at home.

gave a homeless guy 5 bucks for food. i then proceeded to watch him go into a bar...and come out with a goddamn sandwich. and fries. what a guy.

so i'm smoking a bowl and listening to sonny rollins right now. a good ending. i miss sara like hell, but i'll be back in bristol tomorrow night.

so today i met a group of landscapers, one of whom was wearing a large straw hat. i stopped to ask about why he had chosen such a large hat on a day that was not particularly hot or sunny. he pointed to the door of the company truck, which bore a logo consisting of a man in a large straw hat. he then explained to me that at the start of the company, all of the employees wore straw hats and were known locally by those hats. "eventually the tradition wore down," the man told me. "but there are a couple of us who have worked here for years and want to keep it going for as long as we can."

amazing.

i also saw a man walking a puppy that bore a striking resemblance to my family's old dog, Gordon. (great dog. fat and arthritic in his latter days, but still a great dog.)
anyway, i stopped to ask about the puppy, and sure enough it was an airedale-black lab mix, just like Gordon.

Anyway, tonight is my last night here, so y'all (if there is anyone reading) can expect some good stories about carousing and drinking about town. Love ya.

and i still love this goddamn city.

everyone is so goddamn nice in this city. ever have a long, random, friendly conversation with a coffee shop worker or convenience store clerk? an old man on a streetcar? i feel absolutely welcomed and immersed by everyone i meet. i guess it's always easier to learn things from strangers. when you stay in one place for a long time you learn fewer ands fewer new bits of information about it. and the people in it.

I do miss sara a hell of a lot. good thing i'm sleeping on a couch here. i'd feel completely out of place in a bed. i also miss tuesday and the baby rats. but mostly sara. she's made such an impact on me. i'm so glad i've found this feeling. apple better start working on a teleportation device soon...

i'm resting my feet (another long walk today. gumbo and a creole chicken po-boy) -- bought some perique american spirits from a head shop (almost bought some of that weird incense) and got a coffee at Fuel (this little place on Magazine) attended by a young girl with colorful scarves, cat glasses, and a wool hat.)

Not sure what's going on tonight. I might take a streetcar into the quarter. I might stay here and drink. I've got reading to do.

I love this goddamn city.

so here i am in new orleans (who dat?!) currently sitting on a couch. got the window open, so's not to suffocate myself with carcinogens (which are a fuck of a lot more affordable here than up north.) i love smoking in residences. and bars. and i love being able to meander about the downtown area sipping a tall boy of high life. buskers on the riverfront (the mighty, muddy, mis'sipi)
running out of cigarettes and realizing they're only 4.99 on st. charles
cookouts, jam sessions, drumming, walking aimlessly
talking about kuhn and wittgenstein over jack n' cokes.
biology majors who spend all day chainsmoking playing scrabble on their iphones
beatniks playing dominoes after filling their stomachs with alcohol, thc, nicotine, and vietnamese coffee.
an occult shop. bookshelves full of works from the esoteric tradition.
two young blond male lovers skip hand in hand down the french quarter.
red beans and rice. best damn fried chicken on earth (thank you, mrs. willie mae)
weird cannabinoid-altered botanical smokable incense. you can make tea with it too.
live jazz at preservation hall (free, early admission). way down yonder in new orleans. fresh beats cooking hot like a crawfish boil (celestially aromatic). clarinet cooler than a raw oyster (delicieux). trombone playing that would blow a nine inch hole in a levy. legendary blues piano. sliding strings of an upright and good old fashioned dixieland drums locking it all together.
fucking barbecued alligator sandwiches.

and thats just in four days.

i'll be back with more.