so we went to fort mac and found ourselves a fancy little place to live, complete with a beaver pond in the back. just what i always wanted. them beaver's good eatin'. deep fried tails, sprinkled with sugar...mmmm, almost as good as possum, though not quite as tasty as squirrel. and the obvious plus is that you are ingesting national identity, babies, NASH'UH-NALL AH-DEN-TITTY, and that's the best kind of patriotic titty!
we had a choice of craptastic suburban nightmare of a location with housekeeping or beaver pond and forests withOUT housekeeping. like a horny college boy, i went for beaver. will see how long before i kick my vacuum-hating ass for that particular decision. still, seeing the kind of people who work in fort mac's service industry, i hold little hope for the quality of the housekeeping. probably would have ended up with dysentery or crabs. this way i get all the beaver i want, and a great backyard.
job "interview" was a disappointment since they apparently have no room for me now and will not for 3 to 6 months, which begs the question - why the hell did they waste my time, insinuating that there was an impending position available? i spent a sad evening feeling pissed off and unwanted, and now i must start an actual job search. had i known their enthusiasm had no practical application, i would have brought some resumes and spent the day spreading around the joyful sunshine that is moi to all the offices in town. being a naive idiot, i believed what was implied and never actually spoken and spent the day reading an overwrought novel by the fire in the library while waiting for aforementioned interview. bastards.
and that is it.
bedroom quote of the week: "gee baby, i just like slapping the ass!"