Is it too much to ask for a local watering hole?

Sorry, JC, but I told you the statute of limitations clock was ticking, and you missed your opportunity. Now that I've disposed of the formalities ...

Justin and I walked around our part of the TC the other day, in search of fresh air, cool people, and a local watering hole we can stumble to and from on occasion. We live in this weird area between Downtown and Uptown. It's not quite central to either destination, but if you've got four hours to spare, a good pair of walking shoes and a partner who's game, you can cover a lot of ground walking for a while, popping into a few bars and basically drinking your way around town, right? NOT TRUE. We actually walked (and last night, drove) in concentric circles outward from our place near the MIA and found NOTHING. The closest true bar is the CC Club, which is okay every once and a while, but it's a good 13 blocks away, and I'm a little lazy. Plus, I gave up wearing all black a few years ago, and my lack of piercings and ink is just shameful in a place like that. So, it turns out the actual closest place to us are the combined establishments of Azia / Anenome / Caterpillar Lounge on Nicollet and 26th. My half-price glass of wine was still $7. Now, don't get me wrong; I like a place that has two daily happy hours, but that's bullshit. I don't have a job, and this is the Midwest for God's sake! What's up with the East Coast drink prices?

It's not like I'm an alcoholic or anything, but when you're just two friendless souls new to a city, you can't have one designated driver watching the other get blasted alone. It's boring for both parties. And all the snow finally melted, so I'm not afraid to walk around outside anymore! What's the story? I'm starting to fear that all the cool bars are in St. Paul. Is that a Catholic thing? ha!

Jobs are for suckers, but I still need one

After three months of sitting around here in Minneapolis, it's finally time I get a little serious about where my next paycheck will come from. I want to teach more than anything else, but there just aren't that many marketing/communications faculty openings here in the TC, and I'm competing with all those damned PhDs. If I were running the world, I'd say my Master's plus 14 years in the business world should count as an honorary PhD. (Oh! KAS! The WHINING is unbearable!!!) That's probably why I'm not running the world, because if that were true ... Bush and the NeoCons would only be the nightmare we had last night that left us cold and clammy, I could eat all the junk food I wanted and still have the 20-year-old figure that I miss, and the majority of my time would be spent on sex and international travel instead of working to pay someone else to hold this old apartment in one piece.

I'm playing a game with myself now. How many faculty positions can I apply for before I either a) lose my mind, b) one of the local schools puts out a restraining order on my e-mail account, or c) someone in these parts realizes that I'm a GENIUS and should be molding young minds. I know that some of you just laughed out loud because you partied with me in college (or more recently for that matter), and you've witnessed firsthand how genius my thought patterns get after too much of the sauce.

Then again, wasn't I supposed to arrive in MN for this sabbatical and start the great American novel? Lost writing from the hard drive crash notwithstanding, I haven't done a lot on that front except for post silly musings on this blog. I did try to draw some illustrations for this great children's book idea I have, and guess what? My illustrations skills SUCK ... I'm somewhere on the level of my 2-year-old nephew as far as that goes.

I don't have much else to say on this subject except for yes, Mike, I'm still thinking about the character sketch thing, and I'll get to work on sharing your story with the world as soon as I can get my head out of my #@$.

That smells good ...

I love coffee. I love it in so many variations that I can almost never be let down by "bad coffee." I've been spoiled enough to while away the hours in France and Italy sipping that sweet nectar at an outdoor cafe.

However, I'm still just as happy to get up in the morning and make myself some of the worst sludge known to man. For a coffee-lover, I sometimes find it hard to believe what a horrible coffee-maker I am. Justin claims I say this so he'll make the coffee, but honestly, I've actually poured a few pots of my own down the drain. One of the good things about not working in an office anymore is that I drink a lot less of it. I swear, I used to have a cup an hour when it was always there, right down the hall ... and free. Then I would wonder why my head was pounding, and I had a slight case of the shakes. A doctor once ordered me to drink no caffeinated beverages after 3p.m. My sleep did improve, but how I missed my after-dinner digestif. Now, I'm contented with stopping the insanity when one pot is finished (remember, I'm SHARING this with another person, so I'm not that gluttonous with my morning pick-me-up).

When the Surgeon General claimed that caffeine is bad for people, I just scoffed with a "bad for you, maybe, but definitely not for me!" Let's face it, they banned it in Mecca and Cairo during the 16th Century, but that didn't last. Why not? Much like Americans love of alcohol during Prohibition, North Africa just couldn't get up to work the fields without their morning jolt, and as far as the Arabian peninsula goes ... have you ever had their tea? I get more of a kick from that than from an innocent cup of joe. I, for one, am thankful that the Dutch smuggled out some seedlings and brought the fantastic brew to the rest of us! Of course, they now pour the most offensively strong, bitter version of the stuff that I had to switch to strictly cappuccino while living in the Lowlands.

Mmmm ... that gets me thinking. A late afternoon cuppa sounds good right about now. Time for me to grind some beans.

I'M BACK!

Okay, I never left, but my little apple-tatooed pride and joy has returned to my loving fingertips. Sadly, she had a brain aneurysm, and we had to perform a labotomy. Bye bye data!!! I got over the shakes this morning and have spent the last seven hours re-installing all my software. Photos and music were backed up (thank God!), but any writing I've done in the past six months ... GONE. And here's something you never think about: bookmarks. I live and die by saving links to interesting things I find online. All are lost. Sadly, I guess I'll have to give up on finding gainful employment as I spend the next few weeks re-discovering everything I think looks cool at 3a.m. when I'm hopped up on wine and cigarettes.