Back to the real world, or so it is as I perceive it . . . .

So Kenn and I moved up here to Pittsburgh. Oddly enough, it had been raining and flooding in Charleston before we left, and now we live in the third rainiest city in the country.

Until we move into our apartment, we are staying at a rent by the week hotel. It is pretty nice, except that it is an efficiency, and therefore small. But it has its own bathroom and is much larger than most dorm rooms that I ever had, plus it has a kitchen only slightly smaller than that in our last apartment in Morgantown.

The revival center where Kenn's grandfather, Buck, occassionally preaches is two buildings away, and I am only about 1 mile from work. But I cannot walk the distance-- no sidewalks and in many places, no places for pedestrians to tread without either falling over the hillside or dodging traffic.

When we get the apartment together, we will move up te rest of our clothes and all of our furniture. For now, however, I am wondering what possessed me to think that I would not need to bring a can opener.

Kenn went home for the weekend already. His best friend flew into Charleston from California. As we never get to see Squirrle-- yes,that is how he spells his nickname-- or Squirrle's little brother Flapper*, who flew in from Kentucky, Kenn took advantage of this opportunity.

This way I can learn the menu for work and study for the bar without as many interruptions. But now I am lonely. I finished my fun reading material (Book the Fourth in Lemony Snicket's Sereies of Unfortunate Events, entitled _The Miserable Mill_), and I am now stuck with bar review materials, and Red Lobster menus. For fun, I made a few magic squares. I want my knitting. I want my cell phone to come back-- with my husband, if it must. (The games on it are really fun.)

By the by, how funny is it that I have a $116,000.00 education and I am now working for $2.38 plus tips? Also, how sad is it that I am working at a place that sells Atlantic Salmon, when I would never want to contribute to something so horrible. And swordfish! And mercury-- I mean tuna and other fish that probably ought not to be eaten in large quantities. At least it is not like most beef and chicken: chock full of steroids -- wait! The farmed fish probably are, as that is the new trend-- to bulk up captive fish. I am a sellout-- and taking a paycut while I am at it.

But I am here, I have a job, and I can go to see light-up night downtown in a few weeks. I can walk through the Cathedral of Learning or sit there and study whenever I want. Or, if the coast is clear, I can play in a local mall's land of Make-Believe playground dedicated to Mr. Rogers. And best of all-- I can have a Primanti Brothers sandwich.

I'm gonna study some more.

*Don't ask. I'm not sure I got the real history anyway.