don't smoke pot in my fucking restaurant!

What's up with the worship of Pabst among bike punks? I honestly don't get it. I mean, hooray for cheap, unpretentious beer and all if that's what you're into, but you'd think a bunch of kids who claim to be saving the world through the boycott of gasoline would have decent taste in booze. What ever happened to sophisticated revolutionaries? George Washington enjoyed fine sherry, not moonshine.

I don't know what brought that up.

Anyway, life in Pittsburgh is rainy as usual. Business at the restaurant is picking up, which I hope will be the end of our slow spell. Ever realize how the only thing worse than overwhelming hard work is the complete and utter lack of it? Being bored as a restaurant cook is the worst, especially when you're at a small enough place to care about its well-being. Not only is your source of livelihood losing money, but once you've peeled the entire case of potatoes and cut mirepoix for the next two weeks, there's literally nothing to do at all. It's similar to what I felt like in high school, actually; a sort of "I'm done with this test, can I get the fuck out of here now" mentality.

My weekend has been kind of boring. I've done almost nothing, aside from baking cupcakes and bread, and watching the entire two seasons of The Venture Brothers (as well as The Godfather and a few episodes of Curb Your Enthusiasm). Part of me knows it's good form to get some rest and feel refreshed after a long week of work, but I would've loved to ride across the Birmingham Bridge faster than traffic and pick wild grapes on the south side. Speaking of which, I picked a bunch of wild grapes two weeks ago, and made wine. It's sort of like a Beaujolais with too much acidity, but actually not bad. I just need real wine yeasts (I used brewer's and the wild yeasts on the grapes) and a better method of getting the sediment out of the juice at the end. If all this rain hasn't flooded the riverbank I'm going to go back when there are more ripe vines.

I don't know if I still enjoy living in this house or not. It's a nice place, yeah, but it's beginning to feel a little too suburban, or the fact that there are too many people living in it, or something. I feel weird about the whole situation right now. Maybe it's like when I lived in Texas and visiting New York has ruined my perception of my lifestyle here for me. It's strange. Being sous at the restaurant is the best job that could ever happen to me at this point in my life. I'm really happy with that. But as tough as it is, I kind of want the rest of my life to be more spontaneous.

I'm just spouting bullshit, considering I'm capable of being as lazy and boring as anyone else. I just spent two days almost exclusively on the couch. It's true that people don't ever truly change--I'm just like I was in high school, overthinking my life when I'm even the least bit dissatisfied with it.

But there are cupcakes on the counter.