Puzzling · Evidence

Saturday night, I went to a Crooked Still concert at the Somerville Theater. During intermission, a woman leaned over to me and said, "You're so *brave* to come to these alone. I would just be too embarrassed."
After the initial wave of WTF (seriously, who goes to a concert and focuses on the audience, much less *what the audience thinks of them*), it did get me thinking. I don't have a problem going to concerts alone, but mostly I do it because I assume nobody's interested in my kind of music (or because I feel awkward inviting someone to an event with a $30 price tag). And, as bigbluebackpack has pointed out, that's dumb on both counts; if I ask, anyone who doesn't want to go can just *say so.*
And so, in that spirit, I plan to go see the Bee Eaters at Club Passim on April 10. They're a experimental instrumental bluegrass group (Greg Liszt has dubbed them "Philip Grass"), and the lineup includes Tristan Clarridge from the phenomenally awesome Crooked Still. They have a few songs up at http://beeeaters.com/LISTEN.html. Tickets are $15. Anyone interested?

So, Election Night is coming, and I would like to spend it among friends, creating a positive feedback loop if things go well and lowering my suicide risk if things go poorly. Unfortunately, nobody seems to be hosting anything. So.
1. Is there some sort of election bash happening that I'm unaware of and could join?
2. If not, would people be interested in coming over to 23i for some fairly low-key celebrating and pizza?

Also, I have a new phone and can be reached again at my old number.

So, my cell phone is apparently now in the hands of a six-year-old girl. (We know this because she called my mother thinking it would connect her to her mother, and then insisted that the phone was mine mine MINE and hung up when my mother tried to convince her otherwise.)
The practical point is: I cannot send or receive phone calls, and will not be able to for a month or so (the contract runs out at the end of November, at which point I can get a free cell phone.) If you need to get in touch with me, please e-mail me at my Simon's Rock address.

Mom came up to have lunch with me on Thursday after meeting with Mario and Mario's very pregnant girlfriend and Mario's immigration attorney downtown. It sort of went like this:

Meredith: So, what happened with the attorney?
Mom: Let's order.
Me: Come on.
Mom: Oh, Jesus.
Me: Mom?
Mom: Bottom line, he's getting deported. The judge can give him an extension, but best case scenario, he gets nine months, and then there's a warrant out for his arrest. You know anyone who wants to get married?
Me: Huh?
Mom: I told him if it came to this I'd marry him. But I can't. I'd have to give him access to half my income, half of everything I own. I can't risk that. I've got too much to loose.
Me: Um.
Mom: Enough about that. Let's talk about you. How's your life?
Me: Still unemployed, still chemically unbalanced.
Mom: Oh.
Me: So how's Schuyler doing?
Mom: Failing three out of four of his classes.
Me: Have some naan.

This morning, however, I got an e-mail from Eric Buda regarding the mysterious dead-end interview, and apparently I've got the job, they're just waiting on formal approval from HR. So, yay, Job Search Alleluia for Voice and Chorus! One out of three problems down.
Anyone interested in marrying a nice, hardworking young Bulgarian guy so I don't have to?

I had an interview a week ago.  I have not heard back, nor has anyone asked me for references.  I take this as a pretty solid indicator that I didn't get the job, and I'm not exactly surprised by that. 
However. 
I'd like to talk to someone at the company, because I'm curious about why I didn't get the job.  (Not in a, "I should have gotten it" kind of way, but in a "What do I need to be aware of/work on?" kind of way.)  To this end, I ask my friendslist:

Is it standard for companies to contact people who've been in for interviews and let them know the decision that's been made, even if that decision is not to hire?  Should I expect a "Dear Meredith" e-mail at some point in the coming weeks?

Is it ever appropriate to call and ask?  I'm thinking no, but that it's worth asking for a second opinion on the matter.

I just had a seriously depressing interview with one of the Akamai recruiters. Someone in the company had referred me for the job before the descriptions had been posted, and it became pretty clear after the first five minutes that they were looking for someone with massively different qualifications. My interviewer's take? "Well, let's send along your resume to the manager anyway, and maybe they'll hire you as a technician. Hey, stranger things have happened."

*headdesk*

I mean, depressing interviews are an integral and inevitable part of life, but still. Epic fail.

So, I've been in Boston two days now. So far today, I have:
1. Gotten a library card.
2. Purchased yarn that almost-but-not-quite matches my current kitting project (it's okay, I think the mismatch will be quaint and folksy. Or something.)
3. Installed wicd on my computer, thus allowing it to actually connect to the local network.
4. Visited Healthworks, and been skeeved.
5. Visited the YMCA, and probably decided to join.
6. Not managed to switch bank accounts, as they require more forms of ID than I have in the world right now.
7. Not actually sent out any resumes yet, just spent an hour scrolling through craigslist with a shellshocked expression.
8. Not done anything about finding a therapist.

I think it's easy to see where my priorities lie here.

In the spirit of further procrastination, does anyone want to go see Red Molly with me at the Unitarian Church in Needham this Saturday? They're a bluegrass/folk trio, and have music clips on their website (admission is $15, $12 if you held onto your student id).

For the record, my question yesterday was less "Are they trying to rip me off?" than "Is this way, *way* too decadent for someone of my age and prospects?" However, I have decided that if I'm going to live with the guilt of being a trust fund kid, I'm going to bloody well live like a trust fund kid.

So, I wrote them yesterday evening, and it's official. Cambridge, here I come. Who knows, now that I've started I may go wild and splurge on a mattress that four generations of Shepherds haven't slept and died on. Or a desk chair that's not from the dump. Or, hey, health insurance!

I feel dizzy.

So, summerrose's neighbors have a room to rent.
The house is *awesome.* It's got three bathrooms (one of which is currently being renovated, but okay), hardwood floors, and an apparently functional gas stove, and it originally housed five people (now it would be three, counting me.) I'd have the entire top floor more or less to myself. The location is good. The room is lovely. The people seem really nice.

It's $700 a month. Plus $100 utilities..

Um. Thoughts? That... seems high.

as all my parents' friends like to ask me.
I got back from Malaysia mid-December. Recently I have:

1. Gotten rid of almost half my library via BookMooch. I feel naked.

2. Got fingerprint authentication working in linux on my new laptop (this is proving to be more of a fun toy than an actual security or usability feature, but it is a very fun toy).

3. Written a piece of fanfiction that was not part of any challenge or exchange. For, um, Supernatural. (Stop looking at me like that, it was gen.) Which got more comments than I think this journal has, ever, in its entire lifespan. Now I spend at least five minutes a day obsessively googling my pseudonym for new reviews. The downward spiral of shame is endless.

4. Pretty much nothing productive towards getting the hell out of here. Mom is making noise about another trip, which is beginning to give me visions of that short story where the woman is dying and her family won't tell her and they keep trying to take her to see the Grand Canyon and Paris and whatnot. Which leads me to:

5. Deciding that if I'm not out of this house by February 1, I'm going to go live in a cardboard box behind the A&P, because this is just ridiculous.

To that end, I'm looking for rooms in Boston. Should a $275-a-month sublet room near Harvard Square described as 'kinda small' with the suggestion that you 'bring your own space heater' be setting off warning bells?

(summerrose, do you have contact information for the couple down the street?)