rock over London. rock on, Chicago.

alright, first impressions.
I’m at Spencer’s homeboy (girl)’s place right now. an apartment off of this country estate just outside of Charlottesville. looks like Virginia. smells like Virginia. is hot like Virginia. right. it’s Virginia.
first day of work was alright. I didn’t really do anything, which is how first days of anything usually go. my boss seems to be an alright guy, and the other dudes on the copy and sports desks were decent. I can already pick out the character types from the last paper. the overacchiever. the gruff-yet-lovable prick. the sleepy-eyed new guy (me).
best thing about the job? I mean, really, so far, the best thing? no dress code. everyone was wearing t-shirts and jeans. or shorts. I saw flip flops. this includes the managing editor.
hell yes.

I’m going to have to sign a form that says I’ll return the moving expense bonus if I leave early. for every month I work, they shave a 24th off of the grand. then, if I stay on for two years, they waive it. but if I leave or am fired beforehand, I pay back that difference. bogus!
I guess that’s some sort of subconscious incentive not to quit. but they ain’t got me yet, the motherfuckers.

tomorrow, I’m looking at an apartment. depending on how well I like it, I’m going to call about a cottage, too. what the fuck, I’d like to live in the woods.

day one, Charlottesville, down. I’m already thinking about other shit. but it’s not as bad as day one, El Centro. so that’s a plus.