quick bright things

It's sort of hilarious that I am making vastly more money than ever before in my life by driving a golf cart around the golf course selling beer.

The intelligent and feminist part of me feels ridiculous about having to put up with boozy middle aged men flirting with me all day.

The practical part of me feels that if said men want to give me a $10 tip for selling them a $3 can of beer, that totally rocks. Making hundreds of dollars a day for driving a golf cart round and round is kinda sweet. And the view is sure purty.

I will pay my rent and my bills and then some with this job, and then I will get my masters degree and have a job where "girl" is not a part of the title.
But I guess if being a girl can make me this much money, I should use that while I can. I just wish I could get over feeling degraded by it sometimes. Fortunately, when it gets too annoying, I just drive my golf cart away. Zoom!

oh my goodness grad school starts tomorrow and i dearly hope it will just sweep me off my feet with wonder and excitement and "of course this is what i must be doing-ness" because holy shit are my finances already in a muddled and scary state. but i must take the excellent advice to keep my eye on the big picture and just believe i can make it work. (anyone know of any really high-paying part time jobs? ;)

i only moved here a week ago and i love san francisco so much already. jordan and i tried to see a free play the other night and failed and just snuck into this fancy bar at the tip top of the giant mariott hotel and looked out over the lights and the bay and the fog roiling about and it was unbelievably lovely.

there's nowhere else i'd rather be right now.

Hmmm. The person behind me had no insurance, insuring that I, in fact, WILL be paying, although only $200, which is better than I feared. Damn you uninsured motorist and your crappy driving skills!

In better news- I get to see my favorite unknown Danish band....MEW! Fuck yeah! With some of my dearest friends ever! We will be the biggest groupies of a band that no one else has ever heard of.

And then I get to totally just move to San Francisco and life will be one big G-rad School/Honeymoon/Adventure. I am getting less sad about leaving and more excited to get going on the next thing. I registered for classes today:

MCP 5610-40 Therapeutic Communication

PDT 5602-01 Drama Therapy Process & Technique

PDT 5604-01 Theater Lab-Advanced Improvisation & Group Process

MCP E 5201-01 Human Development

PDT 5501-01 Drama Therapy Theory

I can't wait for back to school! Do I still get new shoes and markers?

So Wednesday night Dale and I are en route to the Holocene for the Stonewall Riots Memorial Concert. We are late as usual, dressed scandalously in garter belts, minis and heels, and desperately trying to learn the lyrics to our opening number. The cars in front of me brake suddenly, I brake suddenly and everything is ok for approximately 0.5 seconds until I get viciously rearended and pushed into the lady in front who leaps out of her car screaming obscenities and simultaneously dialing her cell phone. (Is it too much to ask in the name of human decency that we maybe all check that no one is hurt before everyone frantically starts making calls on their cell phones? Perhaps I ask too much.)

Everyone IS ok, the police arrive and for 20 minutes we stand in the middle of Martin Luther King Boulevard (why does naming a street that practically condemn it to sketchiness?) writing down numbers and talking to the cops and ignoring the goggling passersby. (Dale and I, you may recall, are dressed like $10 whores.) As a matter of fact, the last time I had an accident, on the evil 10-110 interchange in LA, it was Halloween and I was, um, dressed like Pikachu. (I was coming from an after-school program, ok?) The officer took one look at me and just started laughing. Maybe it's an indication I should get to events in enough time to change.

Despite our setback, the show must go on, and we hustle to the club in time to apply turquoise eyeshadow, tease our hair, and take the stage for a cover of Pat Benatar's "Invincible." I sing loudly, thrusting my fist in the air, flanked on either side by 6-foot drag queens. I am wearing the trashiest thing I have ever worn in public. I am yelling "Gay Power!" I am dancing in the audience to a song called "Panda Boy." I am drunker-than-expected on free "artist" drinks. I am freaking a gay dude named Nation who is wearing a pleather jumpsuit. I am praying that it's the back car lady's fault and that I don't have to spend any of the money that I painstakingly earned through hours of sympathetic listening to lonely drunkards on fixing my stupid car.

Sing with me now..."We will be....invincible!"

Dear SF crowd-

I need your help! I am going through the terrifying experience of calculating my financial aid for grad school and I don't really have a firm grasp on what the actual cost of living is down there. I realize this is very personal information, but if anyone would be so kind as to share with me what your budget (rent, utilities, food, transport, etc) is for an average month, it would be most helpful. I will be living as cheaply as I can (I'm looking at the Haight and Mission districts right now, but any tips are welcome,) using public transportation and probably sharing a place with a roommate.

If you don't want to post it up here for all the world to see, my email is experiencebeth at good ol' yahoo.

Thanks so much!!

Current Occupations:

1. Kindergarten Drama Teacher

2. Selling People Their Vices

3. Being Twitterpated


and holding my breath because it's all just too good to be true......

I GOT IN!

I am really, truly, officially moving to San Fransisco in August 2006 to get my Masters in Counseling Psychology/Drama Therapy.

I am thrilled and humbled and honoured and scared and proud. And so very VERY happy!

I had my interview this weekend and even though the days before I was breathless with nervousness, somehow on Saturday I woke up calm. I did some yoga and rode the Bart into town and walked down Market in the early morning smiling at the homeless men wheeling around in the square. They smiled back and I felt blessed by the city. I paused outside the door of the school and looked up, trying to imagine myself there next year, on the way to class. I took a few deep breaths and walked in and nothing was nearly as scary as I thought it would be. The faculty and other candidates were warm and supportive and we laughed and some of us even cried and I came away feeling moved and thrilled by the work and pretty confident I'd made a good showing.

Now I just have to wait, and pretend I'm not waiting and make some sort of Plan B that I can be excited about in case this isn't meant to be. It's so strange to be at one of those crossroads moments where I feel like everything in my life has somehow been leading up to this one fateful letter in the mail. Over the last few years I have become very good at dealing with disappointment and rechanneling my life, but I REALLY Want This. The whole day on Saturday I felt my brain and heart and spirit stirring and mingling in a way I haven't in a while, and I do so hope this works out for me.

The only problem is that I am madly in love with Portland and it's sure gonna hurt to leave.

Quick Poll for People who live in SF:

Does Cingular Wireless work there ok? I need to sign a new contract and I want to make sure it works there in case I move.

Thanks! and have a lovely day!

KRISTOFFER: The Zebras went in the portal and traveled to Pluto faster than the speed of light (which is exactly 1,000,697,421,000 miles per hour. They didn’t know that at the time, and they probably wouldn’t have cared.)

JULIAN (Zebra 1): How fast are we going?

QUINCY (Zebra 2): 1,000,697,421,000 miles per hour

KRISTOFFER: When they got to Pluto they ate the white grass and drank the black water and they grew black stripes.

QUINCY (Zebra 2): We even got black-and-white striped tongues!

JULIAN (Zebra 1): Really?

QUINCY (Zebra 2): Yeah, look!

JULIAN (Zebra 1): Cool!

ALL: And that is why the Zebras have black stripes!