Party Party

So Thursday. It began with a phone call at noon. A phone call that woke me up. It went something like this: "Hello Zac? This is Amanda's grandmother. I'm going to be over at your house in 10 minutes to pick you up. See you soon!" It was to be a long, grueling day of yard work under the hot New Orleanian sun. I was getting paid to do this and Amanda told me not to expect anything less than slave driving from her kin. I didn't have time to eat and was dreading the yard that would receive my blood and tears within the next 20 minutes. My expectations were faulty however. We started off with a trip to a local record store and then sight seeing up on the coast of Lake Pontchartrain. When we finally got to the house Barbara ("grandma" to Amanda) made me lunch. The last time I had seen her she was talking of pulling weeds and moving stones. The first task she had me do was put a list of cellphone numbers into her phone... And I was still getting paid for this. Afterward I set up the BlueTooth headset on her phone; the one she later decided she didn't like and would never use. From there it went to editing photos in iPhoto to a trip to BestBuy for an external hard drive and a lesson on that. By the time we finished it was 8pm. I scored 60 bucks, a bag of groceries, and a promise for at least 1 more call the next week. What a good job!
So after work I immidiately bike over the this birthday party/Zine release party that Otto invited me to:


Otto's actually the one who drew the invite as well. Well it was full of home brew, readings of works, and lots of people I had never met. I talked with some guy named Nick for awhile and 2 British couch surfers. They have all left the city by now... Just my luck. But the house that the party was in was really amazing. There is no security deposit, no lease. It's just passed on between friends and the land lord is totally cool with it. All the walls painted nauseatingly wonderful colors. When the railing on the front porch just fell off Otto just shouts "It's ok! We don't have a security deposit!" After about an hour Otto offers to cut my hair. Here are the results from the side:





It's not really a mohawk, more of a ph(f)at hawk. It's really nice and I can't stop rubbing the sides of my head in public.