The other dishwasher got pinkeye. Now I got his hours. Now I'm poking my fingers around in the drain, removing saturated bits of vegetables, rice, bread, and paper.
It's a good night. I don't mind washing dishes at all. I hesitate to say that I like it. I might as well not like it, because I know this type of work gets old. When the music is my choice, and there's a steady flow of dishes without getting too wild: it's kinda fun. I'm still outta here.
I continue to not have any friends here. That's normal enough, but I'm constantly frustrated by my own shyness. By "constantly," I mean constantly. I wasn't always like this, was I? Didn't I used to be way awesomer? I realize that I probably was always like this. Maybe saying weird shit had more leverage in the past.
Here's some pictures:
Here's one kind of spot that I really enjoy. Hidden in plain sight. There are no houses to the right - it's a steep hill with a big tree, located behind a nice hotel. This is one block from the very center of downtown Ashland. This is where I slept after I went to the theater.
This is the view going down the hill toward downtown. This is behind the van in the previous picture, turned 90 degrees and facing east.
This is a picture showing my DIY van conversion skillz. I'm a whiz with a... a bungee cord... and a... sleeping bag. I'm as stealth as a bunch of shit thrown in the back of a van.
This is a view looking toward the front. Notice how cavernous a van is with no cabinets or raised beds. This is an option to be considered. That's the arm of the life-is-easy chair to the left, facing the doors. Those "curtains" are K-Mart "table cloths." That's my awesome foot.
This is my spot right next to the creek. It's a good place to cook, read books, or take a nap in the shade. If you stay late, you might get cops banging on your van. But to be fair, I slept around here multiple times before that happened. I was begging for a visit.
That's my roommate. That's the KHS Professional bicycle. 531 tubing, Phil hubs, 32c Pasela tires, Brooks, Nitto 177 bars, Kelly Take-offs with Rivendell 'Silver' shifters, and more. Phew. I like it.
Ok... I hear you bro. Tone it down a little? People are trying to sleep around here, and don't need you yelling. To be fair: I think everyone should do whatever they want - so okay.
This photo does not fit with the others. This scene occurred in Bar Harbor, and that's me being as dirty as dirt itself. On the left.