Late July

It's almost 4am on the morning of 27 July (I've started doing that for work. It tears me up inside). I'm about 4 drinks deep, having woke up to the sound of my roommate and some friends playing music in the living room. I'd like to say I don't know why I'm writing now, but I do; I've been putting off again and I have willful to write.

I have a lot of people I've been meaning to write to as well, but I just don't get the motivation.

OK, the brief break I took to make coffee just stretched into 45 minutes. But I'm back, and with coffee and biscuits (cookies). I'm actually quite gond of the cookie/biscuit culture here. It pairs well with the coffee tea culture. I'm not sure if I've elaborated on the topic yet, but coffee here is different. And I'm not just referring to the espresso machine in my house, it's that I can't find a decent coffee shop open past like 5pm. Fuck I keep retreading old topics. Let's do this; here's what's happening in my life:

I'm still working at Salmat. It's a call center organization. I'm pretty sure I tried to avoid saying the actual company I was taking calls for in the last post, but I kind of don't care any more; I work for Foxtel, which is the only cable tv company in Australia. It's a shit job. And the worst part about that last sentence is that I said it was "shit" instead of shitty. I haven't been here 6 months, and I've picked up Australianisms. I mean, I still occasionally say downtown instead of CBD, but I've definitely picked up phrases like "how're you going". At first I actively rejected it, but I've come to the conclusion that it's the phonetically the laziest fucking greeting in the English language. Seriously. Say it out loud right now. "How ya goin'". It's just one fluid motion. It's like it's practically one word.

Actually, it's quite weird being on calls at the call center and phonebanking for the local Labor candidate. On several occasions, I've had people ask me where I was located. Melbourne. I'm in Melbourne in your fucking country. Do you honestly think things are so bad in America that Australia is outsourcing call center jobs? Nope. I'm here visiting, and relatively low on funds at the moment so I've denigrated myself to work at a call center 10,000 miles away from home.
If I'm being honest though, I don't really mind the job. The days go by quickly, and I'm fond of most of the people I work with. The pay is Australia adequate, but America good. As of yet, I have no reason to leave. There's been talk of keeping people on after the 5 month contract, but as one co-worker put it "the fact that there is an end date in sight is big reason why the job is tolerable".

I'm also volunteering for the local Labor candidate for Batman (hehehe). It feels great to be in a campaign office, and see what's going on. It's a very relaxed atmosphere at this point, which is almost a bit irritating for me. The focus of volunteers seems to be shorter here than back home, but it's technically not election season yet, so I'll have to see what happens when an election date is set. Beyond that frustration is actually a deeper insecurity about volunteering for the office. I doubt highly that this volunteer stint will present an opportunity for work, and that being the case I have a strong feeling of outsider-ness. This isn't my campaign. I have no real vested interest in the outcome. In fact, the main opposition is a group of people with whom I actually harbor some sympathy. The interesting aspect of Batman (HEHEHEHEHE) is that the Liberal party is so outmatched that they aren't even the primary opposition, it's the Greens. Many of the people on the campaign are part of Young Labor, and I just question, not their loyalty, nor their commitment, but their logic. If you don't live in the district, is it really that important that Labor maintain the seat? Sure a Green MP wouldn't caucus with Labor, but ultimately so what? They would still support Kevin Rudd over Tony Abbott. Don't get me wrong, I'll continue the work (well, volunteering) I'm doing, but under these circumstances it's difficult to get excited. That, and the general malaise of the Australian people towards politics. It just.... it's just not home.

I want to address my comedy as well. Since my last post I'm actually feeling quite good about what I've been writing. The demons that brought me to this country are finally being addressed. It's an odd sort of business. I knew that I wanted to make my comedy more personal, that was part of my sabbatical to Melbourne in the first place, but it's a different process that I expected it would be, in large part because I had no specific expectations. All I had were vague notions of "I need to leave and figure out my life". In fact, it's actually quite reaffirming that most of what I'm talking about on stage isn't about the relationship itself. The last thing I want to do is reminisce about what I had. No, the way my experience is manifesting is through the person I've become since the funeral of my old life. Like most good comedy, it's an exaggerated version of what my life actually is, through my own personal lens.

I just paused to reflect on what I've wrtten, and began to fall asleep. Perhaps 5:25 is as a good a time as any to stop. Upon edit in the morning, we'll see what happens.

New Life Implications

Editor's note: I wrote a post about a week and a half ago that I have yet to edit, but this post will go up before that because I'M GONNA POST IT ON THE FLY! I mean, I'll give it the once over, but I want the other one to reflect the actual time I put into writing it.
Additional editor note: I'm sorry I don't write more. Don't worry, I feel shitty about it too. I've decided I can't write at home, but I'm going to make an extra effort from now on.

HEY!
What a terrible opening. Ugh. Regardless, I've decided my current life situation needed some chronicling, despite it's probable pointlessness. I've started a new job lately. Last week, specifically. It's a call center job for the cable company in town. Think Comcast, or if you're an Australian reader, it's THE ONLY ONE. It's a job, and it's paying me money. A relatively large amount of money actually. I'm the first line of defense for a shitty multi-national conglomerate. Fucking hooray. I want to point out that I am not ashamed of the job I'm doing, but the fact that I'm doing in brings me down. This is the first job since the liquor store that is completely unrelated to either of my professional paths. And I liked the liquor store job. This, well, I like the money. Wait, not even the money (ok, not true I love money), but what it can do for me. The job is contracted out until November, so it's temporary, and I shouldn't have to work for the rest of my tenure in this country.

Fuck that previous paragraph. A lot goes into these posts from me, I'm getting to the point where I'm willing to share more about the process. I don't know exactly how I feel about my job, other than negatively. Everything else I've done feels like progress towards my ultimate goals. This, though... this doesn't. I'm doing this for the money and that's it. It's that spinning wheels feeling that I don't like. I felt it deeply when I started. It's faded a bit in the past week and a half. I'm trying desperately not to say that this job is beneath me, but I'm struggling not to. What a horrible sentiment. If I can't avoid the fact that I think it's below me, then I why am I doing it? It's not just the compromise of my ethos, either. It's the kind of corporate bullshit job that I've been trying to avoid in my life. And beyond that, I'm not working towards my true passions (which is perhaps the douchiest way of putting it). Fuck. Does finding myself mean wading through a small life of boring meaninglessness? I watched Fight Club the other day (incidentally, the day I bought my ikea bed), and the mention a lot searching for rock bottom. It struck a nerve for me. Is that what I'm looking for? I don't think I am, but I am looking to rebuild my life from the ground up. What I do know is that this job is not what I want to do permanently, but it may illuminate what I really want.

What I'm thinking about doing is using what I make from this job and putting it toward traveling through the world on my way back to the US. A friend told me about a gig in China that I could do to help me get to the mainland, and thie

WHAT A STUPID AND MEANINGLESS POST THIS IS!

What's really happening is that I'm working at a call center, and I really hated it at first, but I'm starting to like it. Which I fucking despise myself for. THIS ISN'T WHAT I WANT TO DO WITH MY LIFE. I know that It's not actually what I want to do, and that when I actually get on the phones I'll probably, hopefully, hate it. I know that the money is the most important part for me. I know that. But there are benefits to working at just a boring, mindless job, and I don't like seeing them. I talk to people there who've been working there for years, and I don't know how to feel. I don't want to end up like that. I look down on them (yes, I'm aware I'm terrible person) because I fear I could end up in that situation. I need purpose and helping people with their fucking cable bill just doesn't cut it. How will this job help me avoid another job like this job when it ends? I'm afraid I'll end up like one of those people who loves comedy, but ends up quitting because it's too much effort to go out to the open mic after work. I'm worried that I'll find some worthless job and get comfortable instead of going out and volunteering to get a new spot on a political campaign! This is probably just irrational shit. I admit that, but these are deep seeded worries that I have. I know that both are things that I like, but if I'm at this job, do I really love them? Maybe I don't? I think I do, but maybe I'm just leading myself down paths that will ultimately leave me completely miserable. I know what a comedian lifestyle can do. I've seen it. I know what it can mean to work in politics. Yes, they're both fulfilling, but that fulfillment is professional, and I worry personal fulfillment won't be attached.

Ah fuck. I just realized where all of these feelings are coming from.
I turn 28 this month. It's my golden birthday. That means not much for most people, but for me it actually means quite a bit. I remember as a kid thinking how old 28 was, and how it was so far off. It's not any more. It's how old I am essentially right now. It's that whole mortality bullshit.
But it's not just that. It's looking at my life right now, and what I'm doing. This new job is not what I want to do, yet I'm doing it.

There's more though, and it's something I don't like addressing.
Alissa left me just over a year ago. It doesn't sit well. I'm still not in a place that I thought I would be now. Will I ever be? The front of my head, yes; yes of course I will, and it's quite adament. But fucking damnit, the back of my head and my heart are both screaming no. I don't like to be this vulnerable, but I want to admit to myself that I'm lonely, and I worry that I will be forever. It's a pathetic place to be, and I don't like the implications. These are normal reactions, but I don't like to think that I succumb to such average pains. I should be above these kinds of worries. But, again, I'm not. Instead I'm in Australia wallowing and whining about all the terrible things in my life.

This journey has had several different stretches, and I'm recognize that I recently changed into a new one. I don't know exactly when, but it happened. I know that it wasn't caused by my new job, but maybe from the preceding unemployment stretch before it. What's important, though, is how I know it: it no longer completely stuns me when I think of where I am. Up until now, I've had moments when I remembered that I was halfway across the world and my mind would be re-blown. Not any more. Now I think about it and am largely unaffected. It felt like a scene in a movie where all of a sudden the character is on the Great Wall China, and they backtrack to how he got there. It was abrupt, and it was fucking different. Not any more. I see what has happened, and my past is reattached to my present, albeit with holes.

There are some more serious implications that I'm taking away, but I don't think I can expound much more tonight. Expect a post some time in the future about my worry about what awaits me when I return to Minnesota, but I've been writing for the past hour and a half and that Pandora's Box can wait for another day.

My June Update

This post was written on June 21st, at about 10pm.

Minutiae in my life keeps happening, and I feel so disconnected. I've been in this country for 4 months now,
and I don't know what I'm doing. Ha. The thought just occurred to me that that's exactly why I'm in this country in the first place. I've been questioning a lot what I want to do with my life. Can I really keep putting things off deciding? I feel like I'm trying to straddle two worlds in my life, and I'm not sure how long I can take it. I've been volunteering for the local MPs office (the district is called Batman!) and good god did I forget how much I enjoy Excel. It's the kind of thing that literally makes me question my comedy. Which, I don't know what's happening with that. I keep writing, and more and more I just hate the kind of comedy writing/performing. They're just fucking jokes. I want to clarify that I'm not saying I think what I've written isn't funny. I genuinely think it is. And shit, I'm constantly being told by other comics that they like it, or that I did a good job. Which is somewhat confounding. Not because I dislike the compliments themselves, but personally feel like I haven't been doing well on stage. I don't quite know what to do. At it's heart, I think it's just that my comedic writing is unfulfilling. It's surface level garbage. That's also not to say that it's dissimilar from my past writing. I feel comedicly (yes, I made it a word) stagnant. I think that it's partially due to nature if the scene here itself. The festival is such a long term goal that it's almost like I'm not working toward anything at all. Back home I knew exactly the direction I wanted to move in. I'd finally moved up from open mic'er to paid (meagerly) emcee. That was a significant step, and I'm certainly glad I achieved that feat before I left. The difference here is what I'm working towards: the festival isn't for another nine months, and as much as the clubs try, this city just doesn't digest its comedy that way. I quit my job with the local club I was working for. Most of the reason was the nature of door to door sales and commission only-ness. But before I did, it gave me a glimpse of greater Melbourne. Except for the people who already knew who we were, it seemed like most people had a notion of what Melbourne comedy is like starts with the festival, and ends not far there off. In fact, I would refer to the club by name in my pitch, but more often than not, if they were relating the pitch to a coworker they'd say "comedy festival" tickets. I'm not saying it's wrong. The festival was one of the greatest experiences of my life, and it is extremely important to me that I be a part of it next year. But but as a goal it's just too abstract to work towards. If you were to ask me upfront if I were a goal oriented person, I highly doubt I'd say I was, but I'll be damned if I'm not. I blame videogames. Achievement unlocked!

I came back to my old worrying stomping grounds tonight at midnight-ish to write. I'd really like to find a decent coffee shop to write in, but I've found it a bit difficult. I find myself missing Cafetto back home. Look, the coffee here is great, but so what. In looking for whatever quality coffee that I can get cup after cup on the cheap, where I can sit for hours if need be. And I'd also like somewhere open until later than 10pm. I don't know how many times I closed down Cafetto back home, but it was certainly more than a few times. I've actually found myself a bit lonely and depressed. I'm not saying that I don't have friends here. Actually scratch that. I don't really have any friends down here. The people I'm closest to are other transients, and the comics I've met are realistically good acquaintances. I have remarkably few people I can call down here. But it's not just that. I don't quite know what do with myself. Especially on weekend nights. I'm writing in part because I have nothing better to do. Back home, there's always the Corner Bar, or Acme, or House of Comedy, or Joke Joint, or any number of other smaller gigs if I don't have one of my own. I don't have that here. There are two clubs and they start earlier and I don't have the freedom of an independent transportation. I really need a bike. What I have been doing is reading a shit-ton of books, which is fulfilling in a way, but generally what I've been reading isn't exceptionally mentally taxing. It's been a series of alternate reality books about American history, and other books intermixed. I finished Jurassic Park this afternoon. It took me a few days to get through, and it was entertaining, but so what. A copy of On the Road fell into my lap. I've started it, but it's different than I expected. I have a lot of reading to do, but I want it to be the things that I've always felt like I should read. We'll see what happens

Movement: Consequences

This next post was taken from the last because it became too long. Additionally, I wanted to outline how the move affected me as a human rather than just describe my new situation. Also of note is that this post is much more introspective (and interesting), but more taxing on me personally. It is with effort that I continue with this post so closely on the heels of the last.

One thing that moving into a house means is that I've moved out of the hostels. There's a lot of reasons to get out of the hostel life, and rest assured, I'm quite thrilled. When one lives in the hostels, there's a definite sense of temporarity both in your living arrangement, and you in the people you know. There's a constant sense that everyone you know will be leaving and a new group of people will come through. It's a an odd situation with its own perks and pitfalls. You can change who you want to be within the span of a few weeks, but I have very few non-temporary friends from the hostels; I'd gone through about 4 solid groups of a friends while there. Its easy to get lonely. I want to point out that it's not that I couldn't have been better friends with them; it's just that lives are in motion. Beyond the human factor of not having a recurring group of people in your life, there's also the actual physical space that's in flux. The constant struggle of renewing a room, or changing hostels, or not knowing what to expect from the people who sleep literally less than 5ft away from your head. It's surprising how easily it is to adapt though, and to find comfort in the situation. Sure, I (and many people, if not most) complained about the situation, but there's a sense of freedom to it as well. Especially being on the older end of the spectrum there. I met a woman there (I have ambivalence toward how I want to title her: I find "girl" to be somewhat outmoded a term for a female beyond the age of about 22, but "woman" sounds particularly formal for someone it a situation such as this. Know that I use the term "woman" uncomfortably) who completely embraced the hostel's temporarity. In England she'd recently had landlord issues, and like the idea of being able to just pick up and go with no real barriers. When I moved down here, I didn't want that kind of lifestyle, but having experienced it by proxy, it's something that I am envious of. And while the move to a grounded environment is a symptom of the overall situation brought by a need to stay in the Melbourne comedy scene, it nonetheless feels limiting. I can't just up and leave for Sydney or Perth or Thailand. For better or worse, I live in Melbourne.

In that vein of thinking, this move has been a lot scarier than my move to Australia. It's a completely new stage in my "adventure" down here. I now have rent, bills. A more permanent life. This trip up to this point has felt very much life a vacation. This move changes that. I mean, I obviously realize that I'm still away from home (although sometimes I forget even that. It's a novel concept every time I think about it), but this is the semblance of a real life. It is my life and it is real. I went grocery shopping shortly after moving in. Know that the store I went to was a familiar store (ok, not the particular store, but the chain or stores- Coles), but being in there, I was close to having a panic attack. I want to point out that panic attacks are not a regular occurrence for me. The concept of leaving everyone I know finally caught up with me.

I've found that I miss weird things. I realized I missed Grumpy's a few weeks back. Grumpy's has never even really been a venue I particularly liked. I think it's more a symptom of loneliness here, and a longing for close friends. Those kinds of connections are developing here, and I'm grateful for that, but I still miss what I've left behind. Which in and of itself is a new experience down here. This loneliness has apparently been building, because up until the last few weeks I was happy on my cavalier little way. I have openly boasted about the fact that what I miss most of all is Taco Bell. I don't want to say that sentiment is gone; it isn't. What I'm alluding to is that the intangibles are developing into expressible feelings. Taco Bell is me missing small comforts of America. It's concrete and easy to pin down. This new feeling is more difficult to expound.

I want to point out that this post dives into nuances of my psyche. I am not in any worried state. The precedent feelings are being drawn out of an overall high spirited temperament, and are still only a glimpse of the entire picture. Additionally the word "consequences" is not used for the negative connotations that are often asserted with it.

Movement: Superficial Update

It's 8:10 on Monday the 13th of May

Wait, it's Friday, 17th at 10am
Ok, Take 3: It's Sunday, May 19th.

It's been a really long time since I last posted, and I'm sorry about that. A lot has happened in the last two three weeks and I've been a bit busy, so lemme give you the update.

--Having finished writing this post, it's too long. This post has been renamed to recognize that it is a surface level update. An additional post will reflect on the underlying effects my move has wrought.

I've finally moved into a house. It isn't exactly what I wanted, but it's going to work out pretty well. My intent was to live as close the CBD as possible, but I ended up moving to Northcote, about 5km from the city itself, but there are several trams to the city in walking distance, as well as a train stop. It reminds me of the house I had in south Minneapolis on the Hiawatha line. In fact, I looked it up and it's almost exactly the same distance from downtown. But unlike the house in south Mpls, this house is saddled between two hip streets, each about a half km away. It's a very nice place. We have a bit of a front yard with a little porch, and a backyard with a grill and laundry lines (laundry lines? is that a thing?). I want to make this note right here and now- laundry in this household is a completely new experience for me in a couple ways. For one, I've never had free laundry anywhere I've lived but with my parents. Sure, there has been a laundry room, but it's all cost money (except, ironically, the house most similar to this one, where there was no laundry equipment). It's quite nice actually. Also, there is no dryer. Not having a dryer was completely backwards to me. That doesn't happen in Minnesota. It's kind of out of the question if it's January and you have wet clothes; they'll freeze outside.

I also want y'all to know that I can now make espresso and all the drinks therein. My flatmate (that's a more accurate term here. There are people who actually share rooms (ew), thus making them roommates) Pete has an espresso machine, and I've decided I'm going to master it. In fact, I'm drinking a latte that I made myself right now. I'm not a big coffee drinker back home, but here, when I can make espresso myself, I really enjoy it. Beyond the laundry and coffee perks, this place is pretty great for me. I have my own room with an adjacent bathroom that I have practically to myself. Realistically, the only instance wherein my bathroom gets used beyond me is if I have a guest (ladies ;) hello!) or if we're having a party. While my flatmates are a bit older than I am (not significantly so (uh, I don't think...)), they're young at heart, and I expect parties to be infrequent, but not unheard of.

I'm still in need a bed, but expect to get one this weekend. I've gone to Ikea several times scoping out things I need. I've decided on a "sofa-bed" that is relatively cheap, and I think will be easier to unload when I leave. While a bed is only wanted by someone who needs a bed, a sofa-bed will draw interest from people who want either a bed or a sofa (or so my oft faulty logic goes). Depending how my financial situation pans out, I may get a TV as well. I'd like to be able to have my computer and/or tablet hooked up to watch movies (or shit maybe I can even read from it if I set up my tablet right. Weird). The problem is that my financial situation may not pan out like I'd originally hoped. It is difficult work, if not particularly time consuming. And coming entirely from the commission, it stresses me out quite a bit. I have a meeting tomorrow with the office of the MP from Batman (yes, it's a place, and there's a park of the same name near here! Check the pics!). We'll see how it pans out.

Totally a real place. By my house.

I had been holding onto this box of macaroni and cheese since Los Angeles. I was waiting until I moved into a house with a proper kitchen. Serious, I declared this at the airport... the customs guy looked at me like I was an idiot. Because I was. Also, I made it with shredded cheese, salsa, and Spam: Danzorz America Style. 

My house, from the outside.

Yeah, no furniture yet. Also messy.

The view of the city not far from my house.

Life Update and Internet

4/28/13 Afternoonish?

Sometimes I have something to write about. This is not one of those times. But I feel obligated to update on my life (I almost just typo'd "lie" instead of "life". I swear, I'm actually in Melbourne, at least I think...).

It's autumn here. That doesn't mean it's cold, but it does mean that leaves are turning yellow (and will probably fall, but I don't know). I'm writing in a park by the Yarra River.
I don't actually know what I want to say. I started a job last Tuesday. It's door to door sales for comedy tickets to the Comic's Lounge, one of the big clubs in town. It's a 4 day a week job from about 10:30 to 5. Seems like I can make quite a bit of coin doing it, but that remains to be seen. But since it's only Tuesday-Friday, I'm going to get another job at bar or something. I don't know. I got the RSA License (and wrote a joke about it!).
I was going to see Iron Man 3, but haven't yet. I went to check prices. Yeah, gonna wait until I can get a good deal on tickets. It was a long weekend for Ansac Day. I think it's like a Memorial or Veteran's Day. They have signs that say "Lest we forget". This places is very American, but often peppered with very British-isms. Regardless, weekend tickets were $19 for a non 3D movie. Weekday matinee (is that the spelling? Daytime. Daytime tickets) are only $11 though, so I will wait until I can go for one of those. That's eight dollars mate! (sorry, that's one of the only phrases I can say with an Australian accent. It's a hard one and I'm still surrounded by internationals...)
Speaking of internationals, I'm very sick of hostel life. I'm still not 100% comfortable finding a more permanent living situation until I know that I will have enough cash coming in. The sales job is commission only, and I've only worked a single day (long weekend remember).

I know! I'll finally explain how terrible the internet situation is in this country: very bad. I came to this country assuming it would be a similar situation as the US. I was wrong. Internet in Australia is terrible. Coming from Minneapolis especially, it's extremely expensive and limited. There are certain places that have free wifi, but those places are few an far between. The Victoria State Library is one of those places, but it's typically quite slow. I also have a spot that I go to called the Australian Centre (ugh, spell it right, jerks) for Moving Images (I think?). It's a pretty secluded area that is very usually deserted at night when I do most of my online-ing. The hostel I'm currently staying has wifi, but guess what! It costs money! I will be switching back to the Discovery, which has free internet, next Friday. As far as businesses that have free wifi, it's mostly american fast food chains. Your McDonalds, Burger King (Hungry Jacks here...), Starbucks. Gloria Jeans is another coffee chain with wifi as well, and hooray it's local kind of!
As far as 3g, my current plan gives me 500mb per month. Which is not a lot. Today is my last day of the 30, and I need to check into other wireless plans. I currently use Amaysim on their $20 plan, but Woolworths (a local supermarket) offers a plan for about $30 which has 5gb. 500mb makes me sad. It's so limiting feeling. I didn't rip my cds before I came here because I figured I could just use spotify/pandora. Looking over this post it seems I'm just bitching. Fair enough. /rant

Also, I attached pictures of the park/river.

Post Festival Life Update, or I'm Tired and This Post is All I Can Manage

Hi readers of this blog (Mom and Dad only, as far as I can tell). The comedy festival just finished last night. I know I should talk about it, but for the life of me, I don't want to. It was an incredible experience. It was comedy every night, both seeing and performing. I met people, and I'm planning a show for next year already. It was one of the best months of my entire life. But it's ended, and I'm exhausted. I missed the Bollywood themed after-party that happened at the Hifi bar last night because for the first time in the entire festival, the bouncers were checking passes to make sure they matched the entrant. Since mine did not match, I did not go in. I'm conflicted about how I feel about it. On the one hand, I missed the last party of the season, which was supposed to be pretty epic, lasting up to 7am. But on the other hand, it was Bollywood themed, and that sucks. Also I'd been going out to the parties practically every night. Regardless, the month is done, and I get to live as human first and comic second now (which I'm very much looking forward to). I will talk about it in more detail (probably), so if you're interested stay tuned.

I start my job tomorrow. I'll be selling tickets for the Comic's Lounge door to door (you know, because I didn't feel like being done talking about comedy). Apparently I can make quite a bit of coin doing so, but my guess is that the work will be a bit grueling. I'm looking forward to income though. I'm getting closer to being desperate (which makes me feel desperate already, which is approximately the state I have felt for the past month and a half). I'm also completely sick of hostels. I thought I would have had an apartment long ago, but evidently the world does not always operate in the way that I would like. I've discovered (well, somebody told me about it) a new avenue to solve my own personal housing crisis. With luck, I'll find something for next week. The room I'm currently staying is not one which I will look back on fondly. It's a 6 bed dorm, and the other occupants are trying as best they can to turn it into a party room. Specifically, there are two Irishman who drink excessive amounts of goon every night (goon is a term used down here for very cheap wine. 4 liter boxed wine for <$10 type wine). I understand that at around 20ish years of age, I was probably not that different than they, but I'm not anymore. My only goal in life is not getting wasted and bangin' cooze. I'd known that my priorities had changed, but my current situation has focused my attention to it.

I've started trying to explore more of the city than just the CBD. I'm in Fitzroy North right now, at a cafe/restaurant called the Tin Pot. I got a salmon baguette sandwich. Delicious. Tasted a lot like a bagel with lox, which I'm totally fine with. Fitzroy reminds me a lot of Uptown. There are a lot of little shops around, and tons of small cafe type places. I'd rather not live too far away from the city, but we'll see what happens. I've walked all the way here, but I may take take the tram back.

When not comedy-ing, I've actually been reading a lot here. I remembered that I got a new Hennepin County Library account before I left, and that I can read any book on my tablet. I'd tried reading on my phone, which is why I signed up for the service a while back, but that sucks ass. Tablet reading is way better. Better to the point of being almost preferable to a physical book. If you haven't tried it, fucking do. It's a great way to read practically any book you want for free.

I think I'm gonna be done writing now. How are y'all doing?

P.S. I've started saying y'all. I'm an American living abroad; no one here thinks it's out of place!