The Story.

The past few weeks have been tumultuous for me. Finals. Graduating. Parental and grand-parental visits. Ending school forever. Starting a new, post-college job. Saying goodbye to friends. Meeting new ones.

Sometimes I have been a mess. Sometimes I've felt out of control. I've written voraciously, wept uncontrollably, and slept very little. But there has been balance in these past few weeks. I've had some of the most beautiful and most terrible moments of my life during them. Most are too complex or personal to share. But for every awful, panicky moment, there was a good, beautiful one. I'm thankful.

One of the beautiful things that I feel able to communicate about is my new job. I'm a full-fledged restaurant employee now. I'm a long way from knowing it all, but I no longer have "TR," for "training," in front of my shift labels. I got my level three food handlers permit, which means the owner or manager can leave and we're still legal with me there. The past couple of shifts (maybe three?) I've felt very competent, like I mostly have a grasp on things, I can sort of keep up, and I don't make too many mistakes.

My one apprehension about working there was that it'd be too yuppie for me. While it's simple and casual, it's a pretty classy joint. The owners are quality folk. They know a lot about good wine and fancy foods. I don't. I wondered if I'd connect, or if I'd have to fake and muddle my way through, pretend to be just a little more uppity than I am. Then I met everyone. I knew I'd be okay when I overheard the kitchen kids talking about Vampire Weekend, and when a kitchen guy offered to put cigarettes in my take-out bag on the first day he knew me. The good was confirmed for me when I asked off for June 11: I'm going to see Sigur Ros as a birthday present to myself. The manager, said, "Oh, I need to be off that night too; I'm going to a show." I said, "Me too! I'm going to see this band called Sigur Ros." Apparently so is about 3/4 of the staff, including the manager and the owner and several others; we joked that we'd have to close down the restaurant on a Wednesday night because we all have tickets already. Also, I've been wanting to go to see this show on Monday by a band called Cloud Cult for a while now, but couldn't find anyone to go with me. Last night I was working bar with another guy, and we were talking about music and shows, and he said he was going. Presto! A ride to Omaha to see Cloud Cult (sorry, Dan--I know you'd like to go too!). Also, he loves Damien Rice like I do, and recommended a couple of bands for me to try. We listened to Radiohead and Sigur Ros as we closed. Doesn't get much better: fireworks on the dock, Sigur Ros playing a bit louder than reasonable, and a free muffin for the road.

I really enjoy my job. When I get stressed or anxious or sad, it helps to smile and be good to other people. And that's my whole job, to make people happy! It can be fast-paced and a little pressurized, but overall, I love being there. I love how it makes me feel, and I love handing people good food and drink and smiling and saying "Is everything great for you?" (I also love that last night I paid half of my month's bills in tips alone!) Working there has helped me to feel grounded again, to feel useful and a part of something special. It's kept me busy, and occupied my mind. It makes me feel sane, and okay, and stable. For a while there, I wondered if I'd feel that way again for a long time.

Today I had a beautiful lunch with my beautiful roommate after work. I'm making my way through the whole menu (which is pretty nice at half price!), so I had the beef sandwich with creamy garlic sauce and caramelized onions. It's my friend Eric's favorite; my favorite is by far the chicken pesto sandwich, although all of our soups are also good. Angela and I chatted about boys and God and Christianity and science and sexuality and communication and work. While I hardly ever see her these days, her presence is one of the most beautiful, life-bringing things in my world. She thinks my heart is good, even though she knows pretty much everything about me, good, bad, and ugly. We're thinking of moving downtown, so if you know of an apartment on a numbered-and-lettered street, let us know.

So there's your update. I'm well. I'm happy, in spite of brief moments of panic and sadness. I don't miss college at all, although I do miss people who have left and the places we used to be and the things we used to do. But while I wouldn't have chosen to give up those beautiful moments, I'm thankful for the good that has helped to ease their loss, and for the people who are still with me.

Life is and will continue to be good.