So I got a job at Dwango. It’s true, networking here isn’t exactly what it means on my degree, but it applies. It applies in a comically literally tangential or ironic way. You have to know people. Knowing people in and out of tech, will find you, and find you work. D-I-C-T-I-O-N-A-R-Y. Rule 1: Trust people, listen, continue to be reciprocal. Rule 2: Have some faith and give yourself some credit, this isn’t the SuperBowl.
I heard something wonderful last week, and I want to thank something wonderful; “I’d stretch a mile if I didn’t have to walk back.” Thanks B.
So I start work in almost 12 hours. I feel like something serendipitously catastrophic has to happen to me now, that lands me in four different european cities, intersecting fifty different lives. Some how, I become resposible for, at first, a dog, then a gun, four kilos of stolen coke (whatever), a transvestite’s bus pass, and eighty-four gallons of petrol. Which leads to two carbombs, four dancefloor’s, a Fendi bag, and some chick named Jacqueline who manages to become, a. the source of my most irritating interactions, and b. the sole source of a redeye flight ticket to SEATAC for work on time. I go through the entire day scratching a dog bite I got in Greece, and shifting my weight around some ridiculous .22 in my jacket pocket.
Embarrassing.
I reckon I’ll do some laundry, post to my blog and pass out.
Why have dreams when you can write them?