arriba, abajo, al centro, pa dentro

I’m guilty. And I know it. Of what? …falling off the face of the earth. Meaning I’ve been horrible about keeping in regular touch with most (and by “most” I mean “all”)of you. Please accept my apologies?

Let’s see…where to start. I quit job number one (Alden Hotel), where I was working room service and night audit (um, yeah, accounting and I generally don’t like each other). Neither of those two jobs are areas that I’m interested in for the long-term, so that was a temporary thing regardless. They were surprised and tried to win me back, but to no avail. That’s when I started the other job, the one that I’m in training for front desk at the moment at the Houstonian. So far, so good! We start shadowing this weekend (Saturday morning at 6am, baby! Good-bye weekend). I still have the other job at the Indigo, but I’m not sure how long I’m going to stick around for, what with two part-time jobs and going to school full-time. I know I THINK I’m super woman most of the time, but that might not be quite so feasible.

Mom and Pops are still out of town – I guess they’re only halfway through their trip now. And being at home with Sjoerd alone (or not being at home, thanks to the two jobs and 60+ hours of work) is actually really lonely. I realized tonight that this is really the first time I’ve been completely, utterly alone. I mean, the RA gig is technically considered living by oneself, but the children are always there and my door was very often open, so I don’t know if it really counts. At any rate, I can hardly wait for my parents to come back – is that weird?!

School starts Monday; I had orientation this past week, which wasn’t bad. I was surprised by the dynamics of my class – out of 34 of us, half are Asian transplants…as in, speak limited English. And probably about half of them are going into restaurant management or banquets/catering. I was expecting more hotel kids, as the program is ranked second in the nation (after Cornell, which = $$$$). At the moment, I don’t feel particularly thrilled about the idea of going to school, but I know when I start, it’ll be fine. At least that’s what I keep telling myself.

Another reason for my disappearance (to go full cirlce): some homeboy. Uh-oh. His name is Keith. To give you this specs: he’s 29, has a master’s in accounting (ewwww), he’s from Houston, he’s 6ft 1-ish, he’s a gorgeous mix of half black, half white, and has eaten up substantial amounts of my time. Which I’m perfectly okay with. Ask for more details.

And last but not least, I am such a clutz that I tripped over myself sober the other day and managed to sprain my big toe. Badly. It hurts. Like a bitch. And there’s absolultely NOTHING I can do about it. Lovely. It’s turning all different colours. Of course, I would end up injuring myself during the ONE week that I don’t have any health insurance…