Tsingtao

why is it that i only want to write here when I'm alone and things aren't going so well? Nobody to complain to I suppose. I pledge that within the next four weeks, I will be on my way out of 12 1/2 hour locate days. It's interesting the way some people can take their lives for what they are with a shrug of their shoulders. I met my supervisor, Grant, for the first time these past few days. I don't know anything about him, his life, or what his favourite color is, but I feel like I know his whole story in a way. I feel that way about a lot of people. I like to think that I read people well, but maybe I'm just quick to judge. That idea also explains why I stare at people. I always stare at people everywhere, just trying to figure out why they are where they are at that exact moment. Also, people, people, people. I should probably say "people" at least one more time. People. I really need to start reading more...

Back to Grant. He seems to be a nice enough person, very gruff, but I don't have any problems with that. You can tell that he's been spending 12+ hours a day outside in blistering heat and freezing cold doing shit work for fuckall money for his whole adult life, and that's the way it will always be. The juice is never worth the squeeze.

But wait, that's subjective. What the fuck do I know? I think getting home from work after 7pm when you were out of bed at 5 30 am is fucking ridiculous, maybe to guys like Grant, it isn't. Maybe he believes in this fucked up company the way Scruffy believes in Planet Express. But at what point does spending more time at work than you do living your life become normal? How do people get like this?

I can remember a number of times where I've worked 70+ hours in a week, but it's never been routine. I did it when I either really really needed to, or I really really needed some extra money and I haven't worked a week like that in at least two years, I have a life to live and I was barely tewnty-six when I stopped living to go to my fucking job instead of the other way around. How do you learn your kid's names when you have to go to bed as soon as you get home because you're so exhausted? Whatever it is that motivates that guy, I'll never know. It can't be the money, because I even feel underpaid and I'm just a grunt and he's not making much more than me.

I had it good at G-tel. I wish I could go back, however my dilemma is that I refuse to leave Vancouver to work there again. Fuck it man, I'm going back to school...

food

people know about everything these days. swear it. I just read an article about Italy's first ever pizza shop, over 200 years old, in ITALY! What did it have to say about the food? Pretty much said the pizza sucked. I wonder, does reviewing food include the way it makes your heart feel? Food is supposed to be something that brings people together, no fucking hipsters allowed. I'd like to think that if I had the oppurtunity to eat at the first pizza place that ever existed, I'd be happy just to be there. I'm a romantic though, sometimes I don't consider taste. But if it tastes good, why do you have to overcomplicate things by looking for intricate flavours? If three things taste good together, why should the cook suffer because there's no fresh thyme? fuck this!

Dear Baby,

when we get married. When will we get married? Thirty had better be the new twenty.....fuck. When we get married, we will do the Italy honeymoon. We'll cook, we'll see things....I don't even want to look at me fuckin' bank account and I'm talking about ten thousand dollars and college at twentey-eight years old. hm...a little schizo. I'm going to bed

motel life

everything exactly as it was. nothing changed, nothing changed. who am i to make these allegations? sometimes something new feels so fuckin' old. how far have I come since I was last here? in one way i've been around the globe a hundred times. in another way i haven't moved an inch. i suppose i should probably be measuring these things in metric. However, snow in July is one of the greatest things I've ever experienced.