Did I tell you that I got fired from Greenpeace? I don't think I've written that yet. I got fired from Greenpeace. First few minutes of my last morning were filled with a man threatening to slap me in the face if I said one more word to him, which didn't keep me loving the job. The thing is, I didn't meet my weekly quota. Nor did anyone I got hired with, so we all joined the ranks of Wellington's unemployed again. It makes sense that Greenpeace only gives you a week to make the quota because they are a nonprofit and can never afford to employ fundlosers. However, none of us realized that the one week was our limit, so we were all a bit surprised to receive the "you can't continue on" phone call after work Friday. I got another day of chance, but it didn't work out. So...

So, given that I only have a month until Dad comes for a month, (yay!) by the time I get a job it would be just about time to give my two weeks notice. Meanwhile Wellington's gloomy frigidity isn't doing me any favors while I hunt for jobs and wait for my lovely roommates to get home. Instead, I'm going to head to Carolyn's next week for the 3 weeks until Dad arrives, then travel with him. I'm so excited for his trip! I'm completely unexcited about the fact of leaving Maggie, but it doesn't exactly make sense for me to be here right now. I won't talk about the leaving Maggie part because then I'll cry on my computer. Right after I decided to go Maggie and I watched Brokedown Palace, in which the girls say the exact words, "at least we're together," in trying to cope with their unfortunate traveling situation. Then we judged the one girl for abandoning her friend and I tried hard to ignore the parallels. On the bright side, Wellington is completely unlike Thai prison. So there's that!

My home life is wonderful when the girls are home, despite its remarkable resemblance to a retirement home. One day Caroline and I were both at home, but both too cold and tired to leave our beds, so we stayed in our own separate bedrooms reading our books and texting each other with important updates. Another night we were all sitting in the living room passing around a hot water bottle as others of our generation might pass around cigarettes or beer. The ultimate sign of our "age" came out last night while trying to plan which night we can all have dinner together before I leave. Tuesday seemed the clear choice, but Eva was extremely hesitant on the basis that she has to work on Wednesday. After a tempt at feigned understanding, Caroline said, "so you can't go out to dinner on Tuesday because you have to work the next morning??" She was afraid of being up too late. As a compromise we've agreed to find an early bird special.

The other big news is that Kichi, the dog we take care of who has no idea he is a dog, surprised us all. He always sleeps on the couch, smearing his hair and his smell all over it so as to transform the couch into an enlarged, lifeless version of himself. When we all are in the living room, we are usually annoyed with him for taking up a valuable seat, and we try in vain to get him to lie on the floor. We've been trying to teach him how to lie on the floor for weeks now with no signs of progress. Until last night. Caroline and I were crammed on the couch with him watching a movie and suddenly, with no apparent impetus, he woke up, jumped down, and fell fast asleep on the floor. We had to pause the movie to gape. We still can't understand it, but it felt like progress.

Off to Carolyn's soon, though I can't remember the last time my "plan" determined my actions, so stay tuned for infinite opportunities for surprise.