Transplanted Life
Friday, September 23, 2005
 
No plans
Chet and I haven't talked all week. It's more than vaguely stupid, since this was really Carter's fight with Chet, but if you look at it as an argument rather than a fight, I was more in agreement with Carter than Chet. When you get right down to it, there really isn't a lot of romance between us. We have fun, we laugh a lot, but if you count up the times he's kissed me, for instance, it's almost always when someone else is looking as opposed to some private moment of intimacy, like he's got something to prove to the world at large. And I'm always the one to initiate sex. Always. As Carter put it, you've got to wonder about a guy when it's never his idea to sleep with me.

So, there's that. I also haven't scheduled any more interviews. It's not just nervousness over how to handle the whole me thing; a lot of tech-type jobs are out in the suburbs, and ideally I'd like to not ride the bus for an hour every morning. I know beggars can't be choosers, but I'm not quite in begging territory. Being a receptionist doesn't pay well, but it's regular and easy and not likely enough for now. I recognize that jobs in the city are more desirable and so will have more competition, and I'm at a disadvantage because of the two-year gap on my résumé and the need to convince people that they're hiring Martin Hartle, kind of, but I don't have to take a job that wears on me.

Yet. The roommate hunt is getting kind of frantic. When the lease runs out next year, I'm finding myself a nice quiet single or studio, because despite how great a roommate Maureen can be when she's not talking about Jesus, the uncertainty is crazy-making. I talked to three more folks this week.

Ramkamur is an MIT grad student. He's from India, crashing with friends right now, and promises to have such a busy schedule that I'd almost never see him. I'd feel a little more comfortable if he had a girlfriend, though. Spent a lot of time checking me out. Don't get me wrong, I like being checked out, most of the time. I'm just not sure I want it going on 24/7 at home, is all. His reaction to being told about me and the mind-switching was to laugh and say I should be a writer.

Celine is a bit older than me - by which I mean mid-thirties. She's in the middle of a divorce and works at a nearby pottery place, so she's kind of more arts-and-craftsy than most of the folks I know. Really nice, though, and fairly likely be able to pay the rent on time each month, since she said she was looking at singles, too, but after being married for eight years isn't quite ready to live alone yet; she just doesn't want to live with men. "About that..." She finds what I'm saying unbelievable until I give her Agent Jones's number. I don't think I'd mind living with her, if I haven't spooked her. The only real drawback is that she appears to like offering the benefit of her expeience, so to speak, and I'd have to occasionally remind her that she's only got five years on me, not ten.

Gertie looks like the most likely subject right now. She's a Harvard campus cop, availing herself of night courses to work on a criminology degree. Mid-twenties, taller than Jen, brownish hair, trim figure. She's trying to reduce her commute (Malden) and find a new place because her current roommate is getting married in October. She, like, quizzed me when I told her about myself; I think she got even more attached to the mystery than Mags did. I imagine having a roommate who looks at you like a puzzle could get old after a while, but she seems pretty cool. Likes videogames and sports a whole heck of a lot more than Maureen, so I'd likely have someone to do that with. She's got a boyfriend, but it's kind of a long-distance thing right now, since he's in the Navy.

So, right now it's looking like it's between them and, curiously, Eve, who at least hasn't called back to say "don't consider me" yet, although I'm clearly not her first choice - I called her yesterday and she's apparently got her eye on some other place but if that falls through... Not great for the self-esteem, but not devastating, either.

-Marti
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Note: This blog is a work of fantasy; all characters are either ficticious or used ficticiously. The author may be contacted at JaySeaver@comcast.net