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25 June 2008, 01:00

After this last puzzle piece, I can tell you the whole story, and boy, what a doozy it is.


So. I’m in North Carolina. Right now. Sitting in a hotel room. Waiting for what else could fucking happen to me that is as bizarre as what has happened today.

I had to look at a house yesterday to rent. It was in the Forest City area, an hour away from Asheville. And it was smack dab in the middle of MANSIONS. Apparently the founding family (the Davises) of Forest City lives down the road from the house or whatever. It was a nice, nice area, and the house was goddamned gorgeous with a giant backyard. Three bedroom, two bath, BIG property area that needs to be fenced. They only want $550 for it – it’s a house that could easily fetch $900, but the young couple is moving into their dream house and wanted the “right” people for it. It took me a while to find it, because, let’s face it, I’m bloody brilliant at a lot of things, but I am similar in sharpness to a retarded orangutan with dyslexia when it comes to locating places, knowing my compass points, figuring out anything but the simplest street directions and discerning where I am at any given moment. I found it. I got out of the car. I said I’ll take it. I just almost swallowed my tongue when I saw the wonderful house – it was magnificent on the inside, apparently the neighbors are great, and for the cost of materials and beer, the young husband and his buddy will help me fence the property. He even offered to mow the lawn, but I figured now that I am a competent adult, I could do it. I hope. I move in to this godsend of a habitat August 1st. That is a done deal. Me and the zoo have a home in North Carolina. I invite everybody to come by – although I have no furniture or food, we could sit on the porch and watch my new lawn die in the drought conditions North Carolina is experiencing right now.

I also had two final interviews for two jobs. If I had my choice, I would want to do both – they were both dream opportunities for me. I had toyed with the idea of asking the companies if I could work 7 hours at one and 7 hours at the other. I laughed that one off at lunch Monday, because… well. I don’t know. It seemed ridiculous at the time.

One interview was for a creative key position in an Asheville video/web marketing firm – small but steadily growing company with a brilliant idea at the core that I think would get really big. They tell me they are on the verge of taking that next step to get to the next level. They need a person who is more than an employee – they need someone who wants to be a part of something, help build something, be key in the success of the company. Of course I had a nice little dress type thing to wear with fucking heels to go with it to the final interview. And of course, I got caught in traffic, was two hours late to the interview and was wearing shorty shorts, and a t-shirt that had Stonehenge on it with the tag line “Give me that old time religion.” Yup. I know. But you know what? I blew some fucking hippie socks off. The offer was a general one they had put on the table, and they hemmed and hawed, thinking out loud about how they could make this work – I had told them of my second offer from Hendersonville and how it was amazing how I got two opportunties like this. Then I opened my big mouth. “You don’t think I could work for both companies, do you?” Then I talked about how I still would give the same dedication to both companies, and since theirs seemed more of the non-traditional setting (and I wouldn’t be getting bennies with it) that maybe, I could do non-traditional hours with them. They said that would be great, and that maybe if I find I didn’t want to work at the printing company, that I could come on-board full time… soon. We chatted and interviewed for a good 3 hours, and I guess… well, I tenatively have this part-time job in Asheville, should I take the printing job in Hendersonville, and if I don’t take the one in Hendersonville, I have full time job in Asheville. I know. It makes me a little dizzy thinking about it.

The other was in Hendersonville (half an hour outside of Asheville) for a person to do help streamline, manage, be the creative force, and one of those key employee type deals for their burgeoning on-demand printing centers (digital copy and print shops). I would apply my vast and various experience and knowledge base to do the creative, the prepress production, help improve the workflow, make the processes more efficient, train and guide the staffs, etc. etc. We met at the Black Bear coffee shop, and I was in my, now, familiar North Carolina garb – t-shirt and shorty shorts (this one said Diggnation on it.) And you know what I did in this one? I exploded these sock off these people. They are currently discussing specifics of the offer they put on the table, and will call me a week or two to lay it out for me. I pretty much accepted this one, so I will be solidly employed in a traditional little job in Hendersonville – starting time and all the specifics are going to be ironed out, and relayed to me.

So I have a home, and employment. And a renter back in Dodah wanting the crackerbox.

As I was getting up to leave the Black Bear, I realized I didn’t have my car keys. So I searched around and panic struck me as I could not find them anywhere. I slowly realized I had left them in the car. I headed out to the car that I parked a couple of blocks away. Or where I thought I had parked the car. Or the other six places I thought I might have parked the car. I am sweating my ass off walking around Hendersonville, looking for my car, praying nobody found it and had stolen it. HEY, no, the doors weren’t locked and the window was open. WHO FUCKING KNEW I LEFT KEYS IN IT? WHO WANTS AN ’88 MONTE CARLO? Well, according to my friend Dennis who called during my little trek around Hendersonville, EVERYBODY. Kiss it goodbye Dusty. So I told Dennis I wasn’t going to make it to dinner in Ashe, and I was going to find a nice corner and have a good banshee wail of a cry. But I’ll try to catch up with him later after I tear and rend asunder my clothing and beg god to kill me.

I found the police station, and asked for assistance. Why the hell not. So, one of Hendersonville’s finest and I drove around for about an hour looking for my car, trying to figure out how I am able to feed and clothe myself with my teeny peanut brain. He’s making jokes and on the radio, I got almost the whole police force looking out for my car. The one landmark I could remember was the Exxon sign and he suggested we check at 3rd and Church. We checked and couldn’t find it. Finally, we put out an APB out for the car, and I had decided to retrace steps back from the Bear and see if I could find the car. Half an hour later, I had remembered I didn’t give the cops my number to call me if they find it. So as I’m talking to the cops, I head over the hill and I see my car…. at 3rd and Church. It has the keys in it and I almost explode with excitement, and I might have thanked the police on the phone inappropriately (he laughed so, maybe I won’t get arrested.)

So I’m heading back to Morganton. Tried to fill up the car with gas. I have no money.

Out of dough.

And you know why?


I HAD just enough to get me home. Now. I have checks. “I’m not out of money, I still have checks left…”

So I’m staring at the $1100 dollars from the IRS pending deposit in my account FRIDAY. I have the hotel room till tomorrow morning. I’m going to pray the funny little Indian man who runs the hotel will take a “funny” little out of state check, so that I can hang out till my deposit clears.

Isn’t this more than one person should be expected to get through without being on some sort of medication?

  • next morning ****

I am swearing up and down this has happened. I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP.

Yesterday, I was looking at my balance on my account. It said “.00” with the $1100 pending deposit Friday. This morning I give another look at it, because I’m about ready to write the “funny” little check.

Somehow it recalculated and now I have 40 dollars in the bank.

If I ain’t on drugs now, I may have to start. I’m going to get a t-shirt that says “it will all work out.” The is fucking unreal.

  • Teeny bit later ***

Got dressed, went up to the front desk, booked another night.

Balance back down to “.00”, BUT I’M NOT STRANDED!!

I miss the dogs, but soon, they’ll be here with me.

The watch phrase for today, “I can’t FUCKING believe this….”