employment, squirrels & swear words.

The good news is, I got a job.  The not as good, but still okay, news is that I have no place to live after July 5th or so.  In other news, I'm pretty sure my landlord has beginning stage dementia (which is no laughing matter) and will not remember when he asked me to get out... so I could probably stretch this through the end of the month if necessary.

My friend Carol from Brazil left today.  She's been living in my two room apartment with me for the past three weeks, which has made for a few interesting moments.  One of my favorite highlights is when I remembered that in Brazil they don't flush toilet paper down the toilet, they throw it in the little trashcan.  I knew I had emptied the trash the day she came, and was baffled when I found it nearly overflowing with paper two days later.  I changed it again, and much to my dismay, it filled up just as quickly.  Needless to say we were both a few shades of red when I had to explain to her that our septic systems here in the U.S. are designed to handle paper waste.

Carol brought with her another harsh realization - I swear way, way too much.  She inevitably picked up on my bad habit, and when I took her to the balloon festival and she started dropping F-bombs in front of a family, I decided I need to make a change.  I use a lot of substitute swears (i.e. "holy buckets," "son of a bee sting," or "shut the front door")  but I still use the F word way too regularly.  I'll be making more of an effort from now on... but no promises.  I am the spawn of John Calvi, after all.  Here's a taste of what an interaction with him is like:
Me: "Happy Father's Day, dad."
John: "Oh, it's fatha's day? No fuckin' shit. They all just blend togetha. Anyway, how the hell've ya been?"

There is still a rather large squirrel getting into my trash.  I would just bring the trash inside, but it fills up rather slow and it makes my apartment stink.  I'd rather pick food scraps off the porch than walk into a ripe kitchen... so I guess I'm stuck.  The neighbor is having some trouble with a family of Gopher's, though, and she's been talking about calling some guy in town to come shoot them.  If he shows up, maybe he'll consider taking care of my rodent problem as well.  Yeah right, who am I kidding?  If he showed up here with a gun I'd throw myself on the Gopher hole to protect them.  Let 'em live, and plant your cabbage elsewhere.

Not much else to report.  Listen to "Home" by Edward Sharpe and The Magnetic Zeros.