Made It, Hurricane

Not too many stops. 1 in Moab. 1 in Vegas. That was it. Went straight for the tamale.

Got to LA, dropped Marlowe off, and then went to a Dodgers game.

Last night went to a comedy club. Today I go to my first job interview.

Still exhausted. Need to unpack.

Feel kind of floating feeling. Like river is LA.

I will be fine after unpack. Things will curb to level.

This is a thought though. Things may curb in wide semi-circles above my head.

It could be a book. It could bee happiness.

I'm not sure. I don't know anything.

I will write more when I get settled. Too many floating things.


JWG said...

Good to hear that you are there. Did you see the Dodgers lose to the Giants? (that would be a splendid way to start things of in LA.). Sure this move, once the settling occurs, will provide new work. Good luck with the interview.

Pirooz M. Kalayeh said...

Giants were up 4-3 in the 7th. We all decided to take off. It was like 110. Great seats though - right behind homeplate.

Interview went well. It's to work as a tutor. The guy told me to come to an informal meeting August 15th. I assume that means I'm hired. If so, that would be nice. The pay is $40/hour. That's pretty good, if you ask me.

I go to another interview on Tuesday.

Today I'm going to check out movie jobs and places to live.

This is a great town. I really love it. Dig the driving too. It's not half as bad as people said. It's just like, "Cool, let's drive to Target and see Decheux."

I'm going to coffee shop now. I'll write a post from there.

Teresa Sparks said...

Happy you made it. Actually, the voice in Boulder was me, asking if you gave Marlowe the Pamela Lu of if you kept it for yourself. And then I asked about Barishnikov, because he's cute.

Did I ever tell you that when I was driving to Boulder for the first time I saw a huge turtle in the road, mid-morning, mid-Ohio. It was in the middle of the lane. I centered the car on it so I wouldn't hit it. But my car was packed full and sat much lower than usual. I hit the turtle going about 70. I don't know if I killed it, but I cried for about an hour. I could have gone prophetic with it, something like, "I cannot keep my shell any longer" or, "I may think I have considered all the factors, but I haven't" but, mostly, I cried because I had injured/killed something on my way to a new place, and because I was scared.

How did I get here?

Oh, right, good luck settling in with job/house/coffee shop/wireless.

Pirooz M. Kalayeh said...

Thanks. Too bad about the turtle. I am actually working my first job as I blog. It's at a yoga studio. I am known as a "seva." From what I have garnered after a perusal of the mag rack, seva means 'selfless act.'

I was pretty surprised when I read that. I don't particularly selfless. I know exactly why I am doing this - to get free yoga classes. The funny thing is I don't even think I'll take any. So, maybe, I am selfless.

I'm doing this as a favor to my brother really. He asked if I could fill in for him today. I said, "Okay," and here I am.

Hmmm. Mmmm.

Things are going well so far. I have another interview tomorrow. It's to create my own classes for children between 3 and 8. I love that age range. I already love my ideas too.

Dancing AND singing AND fun! That's what I call it. The other class is called MONSTER STEW. It's just a bit on the creepy side. OOOOOOOOooooooooooOooooooOOO.

i LIKE tHOse o'S.

Anyway, things are good. I'm going to try and do some quality blogging when I have the chance.

Too bad about the turtle. It reminds me of the snapping turtle I found in my backyard. He was about 3 ft in circumference. A monster.

I ran out to meet him.

"Hello," he said. "Is this where you scream for your brother?"


The turtle shook his head. He knew he was in for a week of disquietude, still, like the true turtle he was, he kept plodding along, one hoof over the other.

"It's a turtle," my brother said.

"It's a snapping turtle," Jer-Bear said.

"Don't touch it!" I said.

By now our whole block was out to see the turtle. Jen Peden's older brother manhandled the situation.

"I'm taking it," he didn't say, but acted, putting poor little Herman in a red and white cooler with his pirahnas.

I didn't stop him though. Not that I didn't try. I told him he was a bad person, and should let Herman go, and not to put him in with the pirahnas, but him and his college friends just made fun of me.

I came over everyday to check on Herman. I thought he would get hurt with all the pirahnas, but he didn't.

"See, the turtle's fine," Brian, the manhandler, said. "He's eating up all my pirahnas."

"I hope he eats all of them," I said. "He blongs in the pond, not your cooler."

I felt like a young Indiana Jones.

"He doesn't belong to you," I said. "I found him. He needs to go to the pond."

I don't know if it was Jenny that gave him a talking too, or the fact that Herman ate all the pirahnas, but Brian did take him to the pond a week later.

He just emptied the cooler right in there. Herman slid out, and that was that.

I tried to see if I could visit him after that, but I didn't feel comfortable around that mean dog. He was big. Yeah, he was another story.

Sean Mac said...

prose writers - give us back our minds! oh, right, sorry.

welcome to LA, my friend. not a good palce for a redwood but a fine spot for an agave.