I'm still alive, to let you know. Just cooking a lot.

Allright, here we go!

Work, today, tomorrow, and the next day. This morning, I have to ride up to Morningside to sign a lease. I get the keys now, but Sunday I need to move. Somewhere between now and then I need to pack all my material possessions.

The place is amazing though. It's a huge one bedroom apartment with a nice big kitchen and a gas stove, right on Highland across from Casbah. It's a nice area, and I won't be paying a fortune for it. In fact, this is the first time I've ever been able to put down a deposit and first month's rent without completely going broke for two weeks. It's nice, you know?

I met a girl the other week. She's really pretty and nice, and her name is Opal. And the relationship we're in is sort of new, and extremely different, and you guys may give me shit about it, but I honestly don't care. She's a polyamorous, bisexual, 29 year-old mother of two. She's married, and her husband is awesome--we all dorked out and played D&D together all day on Monday. On Sunday, we all went to the zoo. Halfway through, when Noah and his friend Josh left, I found myself walking around the zoo with a girl and two kids, being taken for a father. I held Daedalus, her son, up higher so he could see the polar bears. Can you imagine me even remotely being good with kids? Or enjoying it?

The point is, we're crazy about each other and I really like being around her family. Despite the hectic schedule right now, I'm at a very good place in my life.

People-watching is really fun, by the way. I'm sitting in the 61c just watching the world go by--people are so fascinating. Right now there's a girl outside walking with a pizza in the box and a slice in her hand, very New Yorkish. A bike messenger dropped off his last package here and is having a cup of coffee outside.

I don't know where to live. It's overwhelming. Pittsburgh has so many small, cute neighborhoods and so many of them are convenient to my job.

extra special

So, my temporary living arrangements are working out pretty well for me. Bear and I have a much stronger working relationship now that I've asserted my whole alpha male deal (I am now walking the dog, vs. the do walking me). Also, I've used the gas stove once already to cook a decent meal.

I got my security deposit from my last landlord (finally!) and I'm finally caught up on all my financial bullshit enough to put a security deposit down on a place if I manage to find one. I think I'm going to live by myself again if I can find the right place. I need plenty of space to be the slob that I am at heart.

In the basement of this place is an old Trek carbon road frame, complete with Campagnolo components. It's got no saddle or pedals, but there are cobwebs on it and the chain is rusted out. I'm trying to find out who owns it so I can buy it... the damn thing weighs less than 20 pounds. If I could build it up with the better parts off the Concord, I'd have a fucking racing bike.

wooo!

I get to housesit a friend of the bistro's for a week. And she has an adorable dog, big Chow named Bear. I'm kind of excited.

I don't have time to go into detail, but the other day at Legume I made headcheese (with, yeah, a head), braised a pig's heart, made sauerkraut, canned vegetables, and did a bunch of other awesome stuff. There's so much good food there right now. We're curing our own pancetta.

and on that note...

I guess I'm single now, and in need of a new place to live within the next few months.

Man, I saw that coming like some kind of crazy motherfucking prophecy from god.

I'm not crushed, I guess, but this doesn't really fit in with my lifestyle too well. Now I have to sleep on the couch or in the basement (which is actually the house's fourth bedroom and fairly large, so it's not the end of the world). And that girl really enjoyed my cooking. It's going to be hard to find that again.

Ugh. I'm going to go ride my bicycle. But I won't do it angrily. Last time I did that I ended up with a lasting leg injury and a ripped kevlar tire.

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.