Alright, I state this ahead of time, I'm slightly drunk. And, while being slightly drunk, I've got quite a bit to say. So. This will probably be one of my amusing journal entries...which, of course, I'll be able to read later and wonder, 'Good God, what was going through my skull?'

I like those journals.

Y'know, before I start reciting the events of the past week, I feel like I've gotta mention just a little something ahead of time. I tell you what, there is one thing in the world that really, truly makes me feel good about myself, and that is watching commercials for braces or dental work. And it's not because I'm in such dire need of dental work myself...I am, and I know it, and it's not pretty. But all my dental work needs doing in the back of my mouth.

What I love about those commercials is the before-and-after pictures. I love those. I don't even really care about the after pictures, I just like looking at the befores. Y'know what I mean? The horrible, frightening pictures of the inside of someone's mouth...it's like dentistry designed by Picasso. You got teeth going every which way...one of them is so twisted, it's like a cloud, you change the direction you look at it, it suddenly looks like a doggy instead of a tree...the gaps between the teeth so big, you can drive a Volkswagon through 'em...

Those really make me feel good about myself. I look at those pictures and wonder to myself, 'My God...what kind of sad existence do you have?' I mean, even I'm not that bad as some of those pictures. It's like watching a dental train wreck. Or Sarah Palin in tooth form.

Okay, that's out of the way.

Now for a small update on the events of the past few days.

I made a lovely find earlier this week. Y'know, since the advent of Craig's List and stuff being given away for free, it's real hard to make good dumpster finds anymore. Salvage is a dying art, I tells ya. Well, few days ago, I made a lovely little salvage from just outside the dumpster around the back of my apartment building, a full-size ferret cage, three foot high, two and a half across, rests on the floor, got casters on the bottom. Easily two and a half times the volume of the current wee cage we've got our rats in. Just sittin' outside the dumpster!

We'd seen the cage before, it belonged to our downstairs neighbor...one of the ones we're not entirely fond of.

Now, I'll admit to my fair bit of trying to cheat various systems in my day, but I tried to make it a practice not to cheat individuals. My hooliganism has generally been limited to corporations and such, and as a result, I can morally justify that as thwarting the greed of fat men. But I don't cheat people just trying to get by, just like me. It's a thin line, and thus, it must be judiciously applied.

However, one of our downstairs neighbors wasn't nearly so...ethical in his deleteriousness. We came to discover he was splicing our cable connection, which practically sabotaged our internet. Fortunately, that was addressed some months ago by our cable company. Then our landlord shuts off our power for a half a day a few weeks ago to repair damage done to the meter boxes on the side of the building...presumably by our downstairs neighbor, in an effort to thwart his electric bills, which he wasn't purportedly paying anyway. Curious, that.

These were the same neighbors that held a garage sale for nearly a week solid and never seemed to run out of stuff. Obviously, I became quite annoyed with my front lawn being turned into the Bazaars of Marrakesh...and was rather curious as to where all this stuff of theirs was coming from.

Well, it seems that this downstairs neighbor has effectively moved out...and the only thing he didn't seem to want to bring with him was that ferret cage. Suits me! I'd been eying that cage for a while. I'd even considered buying it from him. But, why buy when you can wait until the owner is evicted and loses patience with the item itself and throws it out? Dumpster dives make me feel like a treasure hunter. Arrr.

Wellp, I've gotten that cage cleaned up, and we're gonna try moving the boys into it tomorrow morning. I get the sensation that their lil' rattie minds are going to be blown faster than Kid Rock offering free cocaine at a Tennessee crack house.

...disturbing image right there...

Anyway. Had my interview for the pub this morning. I think it went pretty well, and I think I've got a decent chance of picking up a job there. The catch, however, is that despite talking to the owner of the franchise, he didn't give me a straight up-or-down answer on whether I'd be hired or not. I've been told that's usually how it works, you get interviewed over the phone, then in person, then they tell you later if they want you hired, but it's not how I've gotten most of my jobs. Generally, at the end of the in-person interview, they told me when I'd be starting.

Didn't have that happen this time, and that makes me a little nervous. Now, last night, when I went to the store, I picked up two six-packs of Shiner, expecting I'd have an up-or-down answer on my being hired by an appropriate drinking time. If yes, it would be my celebratory drink! If no, my reconciliatory one. Getting a maybe like I did kinda bones either of those options, now, don't it?

So, of course, I start my drinkin', except it ain't a happy drink or a sad drink...more of a nervous drink. And I'll probably have a few more of them until I get that call back, I imagines.

I'm not sure if I'm going to be cooking for Trina and me this week for Thanksgiving...look for an update later this week to see if I get to navigate my kitchen or a social minefield this holiday.