Currently sitting in the Cafe enjoying my coffee and tending to various administrative tasks. I’m watching the chaotic world of the restaurant unfold before me. I am at peace.
I am a very happy puppy today because after months of suffering, I finally acquired not one, but TWO jobs. Yes, I would prefer a single 9-5 with healthcare and benefits, but that’s obviously not going to happen, so… bartending and retail it is! Sure, I have to commute an hour away, but at least I don’t have to deal with anyone in Verm. Thank god for that.
I was honestly trying to avoid the service industry, but my inbox full of rejection letters was wearing on me and my savings account is dwindling. Sometimes in life, you gotta do stuff you don’t want to do to pay the rent and save up so you can leave the small town in the middle of nowhere you’re trapped in. It is what it is.
It’s not completely terrible. My bar doesn’t have table service, which means I get to stand behind the bar and talk to people (the main reason I love bartending) instead of running around like a chicken with my head cut off (the main reason I hate serving). I AM SO HAPPY AND GRATEFUL FOR THIS!!! I hate waiting tables. I hate it, Jacques! I hate it! I am so, so, so grateful I don’t have to do it anymore. Bartending > serving. That’s just how I feel about the entire thing.
Still working on my grad school apps. I’m sort of up-in-the-air about it now that I’ve received offers from several prestigious schools I never thought would acknowledge my existence. I am definitely applying to the six-week summer program at NYU they sent me the brochure for, but I am not sure about doing a full degree there. Don’t get me wrong, I love New York City. I have significant family connections to the city and I’ve loved it my whole life. I just hear “New York” and my first thought is “money pit.”
Do you realize it is actually 3x cheaper to live in Paris, France than it is to live in NYC? And that’s with the exchange rate! It’s insane. Plus New Yorkers are always on, all the time. I can’t be on all the time. I’m more of the “Let’s take the afternoon off and wander around the French Quarter listening to street jazz while drinking wine out of a plastic cup” type. Three cups in and I’ll be leading parade of a marching bands and dancers down the street for no apparent reason at all. Yes, please, I will take that.
I have similar feelings about Iowa. People keep asking me if I’m going to apply there and I’m just like “No.” Hard no. I don’t care how prestigious it is. It’s in Iowa. I’ve been living in South Dakota for ten years. I want nothing more than to go back to a big city and live the city life. I just hear the word “Iowa” and it’s like “No.” Instant no. It’s not even a debate. I’m just so not into it. Have you ever driven through Iowa? I have. It’s awful. It’s literally going to be the same shit as here, only with no Black Hills nearby to escape to when I’m feeling down. Just fields and farms and cows and windmills and further isolation from actual society, which is the last thing I need at this point in my life. Hard fucking no. No one will not change my mind. Also, Hollywood doesn’t exist in Iowa and that’s my priority/goal. So, no.
Aside from the applications and jobs, life continues on. What is it like to be “the Crazy Girl” in a small town in the middle of nowhere? I mean, I don’t know. According to the governor, everyone here is on meth, so I really have no reason to take these people seriously. Why is it my problem that they don’t like outspoken women? Why is it my problem that their internalized misogyny is so bad that they feel the need to defend men who rape and assault women? Why is it my problem that they’re pretending to be open-minded and inclusive when they are, in fact, fake, mean, and judgmental?
Guess what? It’s not my problem. I’ve done everything within my power to tell my side of the story, speak my truth, and resolve whatever imaginary issues the asshole club at Bloody Mary’s thinks are real. I know I did everything I could to resolve things directly. At a certain point, it stops being a “me” problem and becomes a “them” problem. They refuse to listen to my side of the story and acknowledge my writing as legitimate. They insist on spreading lies and defaming me to the point that I have to leave town to find work. That is 100% their problem.
I see no reason to change myself to fit in with these people. If they don’t like me, fine. They are never going to change the fact that I wrote a book about my life in this town. I came of age in this town, specifically at Bloody Mary’s Bar. That is going to be part of my life forever. They can vilify me for writing about my life online, but they can’t rewrite history. Facts are facts. Sorry I’m not sorry.
Well, that’s about all I have to say on my blog for now. I’m off to get some more productive stuff done. And by that I mean, blast my new favourite Disco radio station out of London and dance around my apartment. Radio.net is my new favourite app, btw. Someone tell the world you don’t actually have to pay a subscription fee to listen to good music. You can literally just turn on the radio.