24 October 2006

On the Road

I've been avoiding too much personal stuff lately for some of the obvious reasons, but I am moving out, up, above and beyond and am feeling back to myself again. I have moved back to the city, gladly, and have (I know, I know) begun working again. It's about time, I realize, and am so glad to be breaking the patterns I was living under. The best part is seeing a pattern and stopping it before I get ingrained in it. Anyway...

I was putting in the braces for shelves where a doorway was once usable for my new roomie. I grab from the shelf above me a random book. Trying to find one that is adequately used just in case I screw one up and pull out ON THE ROAD by the, need I say, venerable Jack Kerouac. Is venerable the right word? I'm not sure. BUT, that's not the point...the point:

The point is, I knew then (as I had suspected before) that I was indeed living with a person I could enjoy living with. That's not a slant or slice against anyone else, but it feel like a fresh start altogether. I met her about a week before we moved in together on the very first night that she got to New Orleans.

Her name is Emilie. She had never been to New Orleans and was out grabbing a beer with her boss. I was on the street having left listening to a friend of mine play music on Frenchmen Street. Glad not to have to set up or tear down anyones' sound stuff that night, I was hanging out with my college friend Art from ye old frat days. I was showing Art and his sister, who had previously lived here, around town. Why, cause I think they're fine people. I noticed that, inside of D.B.A., there was a couple pointing out the fact that I had a mohawk.

I couldn't rightly let that go and went in and started talking to them. It was her first night in NOLA and in need of a place to stay within a week. I was sleeping on a friend's couch and had the same timeline for getting out, so we started a partnership in earnest to find a place to live. Yada yada. There aren't any details worth gossiping of babbling about...we're new friends and we're roommates. Starting anew, breaking the patterns, moving forward...

So, Emilie, the new roommate is cool. We get along well. On the Road and other book selections and musical interest and all that other shit reinforce that we can share the same space together comfortably. And, for all those interested in my well being, she reinforces the positive side of Dingler that you all know and love. If, you indeed, know and love me. So, three cheers for the brotherhood of mankind and the willingness to talk to strangers...so long as they aren't too strange.



  1. Wow, I want to share a dwelling with someone I've known for a week. How great it would be to discover that I actually opened my doors to a psychotic whackjob who fooled me into believing he was "normal" or something. Either I've been too much of a prude or just too smart to do that.

    I've known the Czech for a month now. Think it's too late for us to move in together? Meh, forget it. His soul is too kind to be a a psycho.

    Why do I always get fucked in life? I want to live with a complete stanger!

  2. I want to live with a stranger too. Wait, I already do. Wait, I live alone. Wait, exactly.

    And if you're wondering, I long ago stopped counting the voices as company. The alternate personalities, however, sometimes clean up after themselves.

    Glad to see your vagrancy is behind you (for now).

  3. Toes- I want you to think about opening your doors to psychotic whackjobs. Take a moment to run to the bathroom and look in the mirror. Then think, am I the psychotic whackjob or is everyone else a psychotic whackjob? And living with a complete stranger may indeed be strange, as the word connotates, but it's a strange strange that keeps strangers strange.

    And as for my vagrancy days...(how I long for their return!)...I've also bitten the bullet and began meaningful (in some people's eyes) work. As for the stranger that you live alone with...indeed...indeed.

  4. I'd rather flip the bill, go solo and pay $1,600 a month on rent than to live with Jennifer Jason Leigh.

    Vagrancy rocks, by the way. I'd rather wander around and see what's out there. Domiciles bore me.

    P.S. My pumpkin won the contest. I totally rock.

  5. You totally fucking rock you pumpkin winning winner!

    The following comment is in no way a message of support from the owner of this site, the writer of this site, nor the writer of this comment: Vagrancy is supported here at this site, by the owner of this site and by the writer of this site. Since it doesn't look like the recently added bunkbeds will be used for their intended purpose in my lifetime (smile, look away, sigh, wish for better days, refocus on the keyboard, dry thine eyes), that means they are open for visitors for the coming holidays and Mardi Gras. Vagrants are given a five day pass unless it's a vagrancy debt thereby owed to one who so foolishly supported my vagrancy when it occured. ENABLERS!

  6. Ya know...considering the strange-but-totally-true nature of our relationship, I cannot help but to feel sorry for the people who want to point their finger at me and call me an evil-doer. I mean, if I jacked one of those bunks, would they then be forced to find someone else to perfidiously blame for their own shortcomings?

    I would sure hate to put someone in that predicament.

    And speaking of whatthefuckyoudoingonmypage, I checked an ex-boyfriend's MySpace today. Just to check in and see how he's doing. I was hoping he was doing well, but considering he still refers to me as his girlfriend...I gotta say he is still suffering from mental illness. He decided he wanted something serious, I told him I didn't, he then "needed space". It's been well over three months and he still hasn't changed his status.

    Norman Bates much?

  7. I don't Norman Bates much, but I do Master Bates much. And yes, I'd say that his meeded space should extend bywond his 'my space' and shimmy shake down da road. But Toes, I'm your number one fan!!! My bunks will always be open for you, as they are on a first come first sleep basis, but I'll knock a degenerate out to the street for ya. And I like the use of your word perfidiously...well done!