Saturday, November 27, 2004
For Thanksgiving linner I ate chicken parmigiano at IHOP. The waitress (a college girl) was nice and I, being imbued as I am with the holiday spirit, tipped her half. Every place else was closed, even the Asian establishments. But maybe next year I'll have whole duck.
After linner I returned to the empty dorm, blaring dark music as I tore my half of the room apart dusting and rearranging things. In August I stored all my books under the bed, but removed the photographs and miscellaneous items displayed on the shelves and placed approximately seventy books upon them. I know the number because I catalogued every book, with the exceptions of language books and dictionaries. This I did because, though I own many impressive books, I have not read several of them. I tend to stack things into piles that steadily accumulate and that never seem to erode until I knock them down altogether. I wish to read more, like I read almost effortlessly as a little kid.
Tonight marks the official beginning of my job-hunting phase, part nine hundred. I walked past three funeral homes and several attorney's offices. Personality-wise I am suited to a funeral home, but it entails contending with both dead people and depressed people. Happy people annoy me enough as it is. Working at an upscale restaurant would be satisfactory, but Lubbock is short on those. The city newspaper voted Chili's the best restaurant. Sadly enough, that assessment has thus far proved verifiable. This town is so pathetic, Starbucks didn't bother building here. In every other town across this sometimes deplorable country, at every other corner Starbucks locations abound, but not Lubbock. And it's a college town! I hope the next rains set the town adrift to the edge of the planet, where it will, with any luck, fall off.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 5:10 PM]