The Fourth of No One Cares

Not much to say here. It was a typical Sunday morning except that I had set my alarm to You're a Grande Ole Flag. But things got really special when I found I had an email from Barack himself reminding me that it was not only the day our country was born, but also the day that he and Michelle became parents 12 years ago. So I took it upon myself to put the riot in patriotic and march around wearing red, white, and blue and going up to random aussies telling them it was the birthday of my country...and Malia Obama. Ahh to be American. But I found myself awake early because my flatmate Beck and I were going to a magazine launch. Now neither of us were too sure what to expect but we knew there would be giveaways and door prizes.

Femme Fatale. Apparently it's supposed to be some regal film noir style, but it was a bunch of overweight lesbianonic housewives wearing corsets, skulls, and more leather than at a Kansas Daddy's Bar. It was terrifying. But seeing the front page and noticing that I can relate to both McLean and Notorious Dames, I tried to strike up conversations to no one's interest. Thank God Beck was on the same wavelength. We took our social Q's and jetted out of there like John Nolan at an undergrad function. And Havens sorry about my abandonment on the door prize, I know you would have looked great wearing a black corset with a huge skull on it at your next book club meeting.

But on the topic of things that are unnecessary and scary, I have recently found out that with a US license I can legally drive here. But not only are the cars on the wrong side of the street, but the wheel is on the wrong side of the car. Now I've handled some sticks in my life, but I have no idea how to shift that thing. So much for driving.

I had my third and final interview as a paralegal today. I really hope this is the last chapter in my Chronicles of the Unemployed. I'm sick of my diet consisting of water, oats, and beer. And Spooner Street in Rhode Island is my daily home as I watch nonstop Family Guy. I decided to forego doing laundry this week so I could afford a 12 pack. So I'll get to be drunk this week at the cost of dying alone.

How unheard of. But the interview went really well, and the front desk guy even winked at me as I was leaving. So I'm either getting a job or raped. Great.

Anyway. The night of the 4th I traded in the red, white, and blue for the red, white, and black. At least I could celebrate America with footy and beer. It was the Saints versus the Demons, and

it was biblical. There were balls, booze, and beef so lets just say I got to see fireworks that night too. But it was awesome and with the Saints pulling out a victory, it was a night of celebration. I was introduced to a bar that had a "pull here for cocktail jug" string.  You can imagine how the rest of my night went. But do pray for a job offer soon or your worse nightmare will come true, and I'll be coming home at the end of the month...