So yeah, the job hunt continues as they say. And yeah, I know this must sound insane to people that have been following my diary since I have been in Madison. That I have been here for nearly two months (nearly the entire summer, and have still yet to get a job). This is taking on epic Don Quixote proportions of silliness - this neverending quest for a job. I called Fresh Fields again today, I applied at the Rainbow Room today, and tomorrow morning, I am really going to wake up at eight (I swear to God) and go apply for every motherfucking job in Madison.
Some of the fallback jobs I thought I could get are now totatlly out of the question, because of my drug consumption over this past weekend. These being the data entry job (which does a credit check and gives everyone a drug test for some odd reason they told me over the phone, but which I can now not remember), the plasma place (which also gives a drug test), and being a lab-rat (which also does). Oh, and I sort of was half-jokingly thinking about applying to be a cab driver, but there is of course that unpaid speeding ticket on my driving record. So, basically things aren't looking too up job-wise.
So yeah, on the 4th of July, some drag queen that was hitting on me at the Rainbow Room gave me an insane amount of coke that I snorted in the bathroom there. And then, on Saturday night, I went out with Bonnie to the Rainbow Room (usually a pretty safe bet for an entertaining night), and the PIRGers joined us there. Afterwards, we were all walking back to the PIRG house in a mass caravan with some random people we dragged from the club. Jessica and I were lagging behind the rest of the group because we weren't wearing our shoes and so were walking a lot slower. I heard techno music coming out of this house we walked by, and I started talking to these two guys who were sitting on this house's porch. I don't even remember what I talked to them about, but soon Jessica and I were being shown around their house, where we saw dj boy spinning on a set of technics 1210 something - which one of those boys told us very proudly they shipped from Europe. We left dj boy to spin in his room, and started drinking in the kitchen with the Ryans. Both of them were called Ryan. But, the really social one's DJ name was Prometheus, so we called him that to ease confusion and also just because I thought it was funny that his nickname was Prometheus. How fucking cocky! Prometheus offered us ecstasy, which Jessica turned down for us, and then we just ending up smoking so much pot. And I never smoke pot, and the three of us smoked probably 4 bowls and I was so fucked up. When we went back in the kitchen and drank and talked more, I could not help but think of the stark contrast between the two kitchen experiences. How one was just a normal kitchen with normal conversation and how the other one was a pulsating kitchen with hilirious conversation.
We finally left the house, and went back to the PIRG house to find Bonnie making out on the couch with a hippy girl we found at the Rainbow Room. I didn't even realize that is what we saw until the next day when Bonnie told me that she was making out with that girl. I was way gone. There are then brief flashes recalled of me throwing up in their toilet, of Bonnie also throwing up in their toilet, and then Bonnie and me passing out on their guest bed.
I felt like shit all day yesterday still. I just feel completely normal today. So yeah, that is why I can no longer work at any of those aforementioned places, and no, I am not in a position right now where I have forty bucks to spend on one of those drinks that help you pass drug tests.
So, this brings us up to yesterday - and sorry, I haven't written here in a while, and so there's a lot to tell. Yesterday afternoon, we went to the PIRG potluck/picnic where I was still feeling too sick to really eat too much food. But, we ate at James Madison Park which is right on Lake Mendota, and the sun was real bright and it was a lovely place and time to eat. Straight from there, we headed to Milwaukee with Joe and Alex to go to Summerfest, where we were going to see Zap Mama and the Violent fucking Femmes. On the drive there, Alex put onAbbey Road, and I was stuck in the backseat next to Joe, who does not talk, and it was the most hellacious thing ever. Being stuck in a car listening to the Beatles is seriously my idea of Hell. I am one of the few people you will ever encounter that hates (and I mean hates) the Beatles. Magical Mystery Tour is the only album I like - the only one that I will sometimes be in the mood to hear. Other than that, holy hell, the Beatles make me want to scratch out my insides. There's just something about the sound of Paul McCartney's voice that pisses the fuck out of me. Let's not even talk about it, I am already getting worked up just thinking about that horrible music.
So, we finally get there, and the place is a zoo. There is an insane amount of people there - mainly of the loud, drunken variety. We saw Zap Mama's last song which I was real sad about, since I was even more excited to see them than I was to see the Femmes. But, then we walked over to the Miller stage, pushed our way through throngs of people who were way too nice. Whenever I push my way through the crowd to get closer to the stage in DC, people are rude as fuck, and openly hostile, and will tell you not to move. These people were making room for us, and even apoligizing because we(not them) wanted to get by. It was a little insane. We still didn't even end up getting that close, but it was still exciting. And the Violent Femmes were so fucking good. They were utterly wonderful, and since Milwaukee's their hometown, there was an insane amount of people (lots of thousands) all there for the Femmes and all singing along to practically every song. It was such a lovely feeling to hear thousands shout like they actually had somplace to go, that they were going to go any other place than here with me and Bonnie and Alex and Joe, that they would want to let their precious time slip past any other way than being here, and shouting along to the Femmes, with Godon Gano acting as their sceezy minister, leading his congregation in song:
Hey, Mister Driver Man, don't be slow, cause I've got somewhere I've got to go / Hey, Mister Driver Man, drive that thing fast, cause my precious time keeps slipping past