The other day when we were driving to the party Dave had to move a cd that was on the passenger seat and it was Elvis Costello and he said "what's this?" and read the cover and said "ahhhh, really gettin' into this, huh?" and I said "Manning is lending that to me," and he said "it's nice when you find something you can really get into, isn't it?" and man, it is!
On Friday I had to run some plans, and a permit application, to Bridgeton, which is the county seat of . . . something. Cumberland? Salem? Who knows. It took me almost an hour, it was wonderful. I passed corn fields and blueberry fields and ponies and an animal which was a mule or donkey or burro, who knows, and fields of sod which are so smooth and flat and green, and fields for nurseries which were the funniest looking because they were straight rows of shrubbery, all the same size, stretching back to the horizon. Also there were cows, and I saw one cow scratch his head with his hind leg. Like a dog! I saw it, I swear! And also silos and farmhouses and farm stands and then at the end of the trip I went too far, and passed a zoo.
This Sunday I went to two big thrift stores to look for something suitable for my costume, but came up empty-handed. There are a lot more places to go to look, but those were the biggest. I hope I find something eventually, because I just spent a lot of money on the main prop yesterday, on eBay. And I have no backup plan, really.
My work is paying for me to take a Soils Identification class at Rutgers. It's two days at Cook Campus (which is at New Brunswick, where I went to school), and then one field day in Lebanon Woods or something. MAN I hope we don't run into the Jersey Devil. I'm excited about this class for several reasons. First of all, I won't be at work. Second of all, I like to learn things, and this is the best because it's only two days so hopefully it won't get all tedious like a regular college class might, plus it's about soil. And I really want to know this stuff, so that I can go out and do test pits all by myself, because I'd rather do test pits than sit in here. And then I'll know about soil identification, and you won't! And last but certainly not least, is that the class is at 8:30 in the morning, which is really freaking early, since Rutgers is at least an hour away NOT during rush hour -- which means that I asked the Ill Scientist if I could stay at his apartment with him and Mambo, and he said yes! Oh man, I'll get to pretend I'm in college for two days, by means of going out to college bars on a weeknight! Or something! Man, and Tuesday is the biggest going-out night of the week, next to Friday and Saturday and Thursday! OH MAN AND I'LL HAVE A FAT STEVE. I've spoken about Fat Steves before, but I shall again. The Grease Trucks reside on the College Ave Campus, there are . . . eight to ten of them, I don't know, and they all have pretty much the same menu. And they sell cigarettes. You can get shit for breakfast maybe, but the IMPORTANT stuff are the sandwiches. They're all called Fat something, and they start with a cheeseburger or cheesesteak or whathaveyou, and have other stuff piled on like egg or bacon or french fries or chicken fingers or onions or tomato. My favorite is the Fat Steve (at Mr. C's; at any other truck it's called the Fat Darrell, but Mr. C's makes it best), and it's chicken fingers, mozzarella sticks, french fries, and marinara sauce on a hoagie roll, with lettuce. Man is it good, I miss the grease trucks. And only $4.00! Or possibly slightly more, since it's been a couple years! Surely not more than $4.50, though. Oh and also all the guys running the grease trucks are . . . Lebanese? Something? And since the menus are so identical, they appeal to your emotions to get you to come to their truck. "Hey, buddy, for you, especiale!" "One fat beetch, down!" And everybody comes by at 1:30 in the morning (they used to be allowed to be open until three, but there was too much public urination, so they close at two now) and is drunk and the guys take pictures and tape them on the side of the truck, frat boys and sorority sluts and skater-type guys and me-type people and black kids and white kids and Indian kids and Asian kids, THE GREASE TRUCKS CROSS RACIAL AND CLASS BARRIERS AND BRING US ALL TOGETHER TO EAT FAT BITCHES IN HARMONY!!
For those of you who've been lucky enough to pay a visit:
What's your favorite sandwich to get at the Grease Trucks? What's on it?
So yeah, I'm looking forward to that.
Also, hey, do you think I should go to grad school? Or what? I mean I should hurry up and do that, right? Should I go for Classics, or Geotechnical Engineering? I guess Classics is kind of a pipe dream, it would take me forever, since I don't actually have a B.A., just a B.S. and it would take me ages to get the proper prerequisites I bet, PLUS Slick says that it's easy to find a fellowship for a math/science masters degree, but if I went Liberal Arts I'd have to pay for the damn thing. But Slick seems to be having such an awful time in grad school, and I get the impression that she's moderately smarter than I, and certainly a far harder worker. Hmm. And I should go someplace exciting, right, somewhere out west? Where there are mountains? Seattle's cold and gloomy, though, I hear, so maybe California. Ooh or Nevada, did that marijuana legalization thingie get passed yet?