I received a belated email today from the capitol police department thanking me for my interest in dispatch positions, regretting to inform me that they'd chosen a more qualified candidate, assuring me that the field is really very competitive, not unlike runway modeling and black market cockfights, and that I'm really an OK guy with swell prospects. which is true.
Plan B begins thus: Jul has just offered me one of two opportunities to come on as a writing and research assistant for her out in LA. so, I've passed along my resume and a writing sample, and I'm waiting for details regarding the when, the where, and the how of the interview with her boss. if I get the job, I'm selling everything that won't fit in my car and I'm moving to Los Angeles.
I'm also pretty thrilled that I get to grow back my facial hair.
so, in summary, excited. and sick. a hangover that has lasted all day and has left me feeling ill with a drip and a cough and an unsettling inner wobbliness. and my feet smell, so that isn't helping.
also, my dear friend Cherie has finally gotten around to printing some of the wonderful photographs she took on set in san francisco. she's sent them to me by electronic mail (willikers!) and I share them with you.
![](https://dz3ixmv6nok8z.cloudfront.net/static/img/ph-508.604ed20cffa9.gif)
![](https://dz3ixmv6nok8z.cloudfront.net/static/img/ph-508.604ed20cffa9.gif)
![](https://dz3ixmv6nok8z.cloudfront.net/static/img/ph-508.604ed20cffa9.gif)
I'm a pretty punkrock princess.
![](https://dz3ixmv6nok8z.cloudfront.net/static/img/ph-508.604ed20cffa9.gif)
eileen seems incredulous in this one. like she cannot believe just how virile and awesome I am.
Plan B begins thus: Jul has just offered me one of two opportunities to come on as a writing and research assistant for her out in LA. so, I've passed along my resume and a writing sample, and I'm waiting for details regarding the when, the where, and the how of the interview with her boss. if I get the job, I'm selling everything that won't fit in my car and I'm moving to Los Angeles.
I'm also pretty thrilled that I get to grow back my facial hair.
so, in summary, excited. and sick. a hangover that has lasted all day and has left me feeling ill with a drip and a cough and an unsettling inner wobbliness. and my feet smell, so that isn't helping.
also, my dear friend Cherie has finally gotten around to printing some of the wonderful photographs she took on set in san francisco. she's sent them to me by electronic mail (willikers!) and I share them with you.
![](https://dz3ixmv6nok8z.cloudfront.net/static/img/ph-508.604ed20cffa9.gif)
![](https://dz3ixmv6nok8z.cloudfront.net/static/img/ph-508.604ed20cffa9.gif)
![](https://dz3ixmv6nok8z.cloudfront.net/static/img/ph-508.604ed20cffa9.gif)
I'm a pretty punkrock princess.
![](https://dz3ixmv6nok8z.cloudfront.net/static/img/ph-508.604ed20cffa9.gif)
eileen seems incredulous in this one. like she cannot believe just how virile and awesome I am.
but writing in LA is cooler, minus the whole LA thing. I hope that works out for you because it turns out I live vicariously through anyone who does anything more interesting than meeeee. than I. ahem.
you're about as virile as a lawn gnome, man.