It's Christmas Time in Apartment 21!

In high school you were
what was left of her.
You meant seizing chances
with slow dances.

Now all I wanted was a tree,
but there's this fee:
Glitter everywhere,
my clothes, my phone, my hair.

The Old Man

At the moment I am sitting in the Montecito Coffee Bean. I've just completed several applications for internships and a junior engineer position so I might take a break and share a story.

When I first arrived the only table available was the one bearing this sticker: "Please offer this table to our customers with disabilities." Although most of the other tables are arranged to accommodate four people, it is the only single table that four people can sit around. I never really want to take this table but, not seeing any handicapped customers, figured it would be safe for a while.

Coffee Bean being a busy spot, it wasn't long before an elderly gentlemen approached me and asked if he could share. His skin looked not withered, but as though he had spent the last eighty years in southern California. He had white hair and was wearing a moss green sweater. In his left hand was a small coffee and in his right he carried a white plate with an old-fashioned donut in the center. He moved as softly as he spoke.

He finished his donut without a word and then sat for a few more minutes, clearly enjoying his coffee and the activity of the coffee shop. Engaged as I was in the task at hand, I almost forgot he was there.

When he made to leave he turned to me and, speaking barely above a whisper, wished me the best of luck in whatever I was engaged in, waving a hand at my computer. I thanked him and confessed that I was job hunting and appreciated all the luck I could get. To this he added "Double good luck then." He laughed inaudibly and added that he didn't even own a computer. This didn't trouble him, what did, was that no one answers the phone anymore. Apparently he has difficulty navigating the automated voice directories.

More Pictures

I noticed that I have been skimping on the pictures recently so here are a few apartment shots.

~

Recently redesigned living room (thank you Drew).

Burlap sack wall and entertainment center.

Dinning Room.

The couch did everything it could to combat the ceiling but in the end, it was to no avail.

"Got a couple bottles,
But a couple, ain't enough."
- Tremaine Aldon Neverson

I did these!

I didn't do this.

Happy Birthday Fyodor!

I have been good these past two months. I have not been buying books but visiting the library like a proper jobless person. However, in honor of Fyodor Dostoyevsky's birthday the Santa Barbara Public Library was having a sale. Why they don't extend similar honors to other famous authors, I don't know. Still, I wasn't about to start complaining.

The four-day sale began today in the basement of the central library. Instead of queuing up at 8:00am like a madman, I decided to use the event as a motivational tool, "submit this job application and then you can go to book sale." So I did just that.

The only problem is that when I arrived there were already a ton of people there. I was worried that the good stuff would have been long gone. Still, I started browsing the different tables, "Classic Literature," "Fiction," "Poetry," "Mystery," "Art," etc. I would pick up books that I definitely wanted and some that I might have wanted but didn't want to get stolen by the crowd. I was surprised by how many treasures had remained and before long my right arm was fully extended to press the stack of books to my chest.

I ended narrowing the stack down to twelve. Brought those treasures to the check out. Total cost: $5.25! I was ecstatic and couldn't believe my luck. I wanted to get out of there before they changed their minds. I actually felt my heart rate go up.

Some kind of high.

Pushing Through

Last night as I began that nightly ordeal of falling asleep I began to imagine my body sinking into the bed. This is not an uncommon practice for me and for the past five years I have tried, unsuccessfully, to will myself through floors and walls of all sorts. It is a fascination that began when I first learned about the percent of free space in the atom. It was only slightly deterred when I later learned that this space is technically occupied by the electrons. They are waves after all and granted some concessions in the fundamental forces that operate on the world, there should conceivably be some wiggle room.

The point is that last night I succeeded. After years of trying out different permutations, I finally managed to find the right arrangement of my atoms. I felt it only slightly at first. My hands could press slightly further into my sheets than normally possible. However that was all it took. I knew it could be done. After the initial shock and an irresponsible decision to disregard all possible consequences, I let my body slide through the surprisingly airy old mattress.

My current bed consists of a mattress, a piece of plywood and four square cinder blocks. After willing my body through the mattress it was in the uncomfortable position of resting on the hard plywood. At this point I really only had two choices, to go back or attempt pushing through the plywood. The latter seem the better option if only for the fact that it was hot inside the mattress and underside of my bed, carpeted and cool, seemed very appealing.

You know how I like to lie on the floor and after careful rearrangement of my atoms, accounting for the variances in organic (vs the regularity of manufactured) materials and not without considerable difficulty on my part, I felt through.

It is at this point that I began to get cocky. I began to push through the floor of apartment. With the various materials, a great spectrum of densities and inter spaced floor boards, this is not an easy feat. However, the real trouble began a few inches from the ceiling of the apartment below. There I realized that I was about to crash into the bedroom of a complete stranger's apartment.

I decided that the only option was to continue and I would have to recall to atomic structure necessary to slide into the stranger's floor upon contact. That would not only avoid the awkward encounter - I was after all in my boxers - but would also prevent a rather unpleasant crash that awaited me on the floor below.

In retrospect I am very fortunate that there were few obstacles in my way, let alone the old man himself. No, I fell, muffled a scream, and slid into the floor below. It was rather damp down there and rather than abandon my quest, I simply sought the warmth the Earth has to offer. I continued south(?) and slowly made my way to warmer internal temperatures. When I was sufficiently contented, I thought "well that is that" and went to sleep.

Saving Time

I decided this morning to start blogging again. I say this even though I never made a formal decision to stop. I just have had trouble writing about my life when the major events are emotional. After all, when I started this blog it was to give friends and family a firsthand glimpse into a foreign world that I was in the process of discovering. I wanted to stray away from the 'inflated sense of self importance' that I thought endemic to the blogging world. However, now that I live in Santa Barbara again, many of the sights are familiar and the quotidian experiences unremarkable. Even though I have yet to find a solution, I realized that I miss this, I don't know what to call, communication.

These last few months have been unforgiving. My time at Cornell was the roughest period of my life but at least I was busy. Now I am lucky if I have commitments every other day. There is only so much job hunting I can do.

"I am taking time to strengthen my relationships and re-evaluate career plans." This is what I am telling people. It is mostly true but doesn't include the fact that I am reeling from a shattered self-confidence. "I have a B.S. in Engineering Physics, just got back from a very successful year at Cornell University, and would like to be considered for the administrative assistant position within your company." I hate this.