09/07/2005 - 7:51 p.m. | I saw her spinning and dripping on your new dress

After the past week of post-departum depression, it occurs to me that I may have systematically eliminated every single part time job I have. OK, so I quit the Housing Authority, that was a given. Jenise was fucking right; Ericka is the biggest cretin in the entire world, and I made about the biggest mistake of my life, giving that woman my cell number. Her first day she left like half of the maps she had printed for the day, so she just kept calling and calling. Phone was put on silent shortly thereafter. But! I�m on my way out� as soon as Brian gets his slow faggot-ass down here to find a replacement. This could likely take months, though, so I am thinking about speeding up the process � maybe skip a few shifts, make a blatant mistake or two. Just let him know how badly I never want to deal with any of that shit ever ever again.

As a side effect of my silenced phone, however, I missed a few calls from James re: cookie driving. Not that I probably would have gone anyway � I�m not a fecking doctor, and I�m not on fecking call. I want a nice written schedule that tells me ahead of time which of my evenings are completely ruined. He�s stopped calling so much.

Then, Shelly and I were walking home from Murphy�s last night (full of fries and Mexican food we absolutely did not need), and I was like, �Yeah, I�ve got to get my shit together pretty quick. Crossing the guard starts on the 29th.� �It�s the 30th.� Hmm. See, I knew this, I think, but I didn�t actually know it.

Turns out telemarketing also started on the 29th. Oh, my bad.

Who am I kidding, though? I�m really sick of part time jobs � as the part they usually encroach upon is where I should be having fun. And Shelly has just started an e-business (lol) selling crocheted shit to nerds, and she wanted to know if I was interested in jumping on board with my painted shirts and all. If we go like 25, 30 bucks a pop, I could probably eek out a living.

The reason Shelly and I were out was for Allison Helm�s birthday. Actually, a lot of her jet set was there, and I was not drunk or content enough to try and talk to Hillary, so mostly I just took pictures of everyone. Maly ended up being at Murphy�s, so when Shelly and I ran out without Smacko, we sort of assumed he�d been stabbed. Well, either that or he was currently occupied in the fucking of Allison Helm, but all the standard betting pools don�t place that until sometime in October. I prefer to stay out of it.

I invited Missy to my birthday after all. I also have told no one of this. She has not responded to me, and I�m not sure if this was the healthiest plan overall, but at the very, very least, we need some closure. And the Medieval Times tickets. Need those, too. I know that this greatly, greatly increases our chances of tumbling back into a relationship, but who knows what I want anyway?

Meanwhile, both Susan D. Rick and my parents will be visiting this weekend. This should be interesting. I plan on being sober for like a minute.

In case you haven�t entirely gotten it, I�m sort of depressed. And, while I�d hate to put too fine of a point on things, it�s pretty much all I can do to not projectile vomit in every given moment. My stomach is in knots, and I�m so lethargic and don�t give two shits about everything, and something is going to have to change or get better, or I�m right fucked.

In this particular advertising class (483), Jeanna Jones is always sitting like 2 feet away from me. She keeps giving me looks, like she might recognize me. Does she know, in fact, that I�ve seen her boobs (at one of Eric Szczneziak�s parties)? This is doubtful.

For the first time, I feel like I�m in a class of intellectual and creative peers (Well, not this one obviously � the creative one � this shit heap is filled with peons who I can scarcely imagine could walk and chew gum at the same time), and this has made me nervous. Well, more nervous. Back when I was surrounded by bucketheads, I could shit out whatever I first thought of and it was significantly better than anyone else. Now, though, we�ve got the hand-picked cream of the crop, and I don�t know how my work will stand up. As such, I�ve actually started going to other people. For their opinions. I hate that sort of stuff! On the whole, everyone tends to agree � except for Kyle, who usually goes in a vastly different direction. In the end, though, it is my choice alone. I hope I am making the right ones.

LATER ON:

Dear Lord, I was just assigned to a group. In 483, I mean. None of them did anything to reverse any prejudices I have about the group as a whole. The two girls were useless and didn�t say a world, and the other guy was just fucking awful. He works for 107.1 (the student radio station, formerly The Planet) and he managed to mention it about every other fucking sentence. Plus, months of using the affected throaty Lawton voice they require there has apparently taken over his soul such that he cannot speak like the rest of us anymore. So, we were going over our assignment � talk about how you are an audience member, voluntarily and involuntarily � and he says he is an �anti� person, which is just about the stupidest fucking thing I have ever heard. You can be opposed to some shit, moron, but being opposed to everything just makes you one big annoying contradiction.

What are your feelings on abortion?
�I�m anti-abortion!�
So you�re pro-life?
�I�m anti-life!�
Are you developmentally disabled?
�Always the best specials, always the most fun!�

I was talking to Kay afterwards, and her group was no better. All they talked about was �Laguna Beach� and how fucking hot the TA for the class is, to which I said, �Him? He�s so fucking lumpy and dumb-looking, though!� �So are they�� Ahh�

As for creative class, well, it�s going to take some getting used to, being critiqued. I�ve always done everything in my power to avoid criticism, and now here I am forced to both give and take. On the plus side, I didn�t feel anyone else�s body of work was really superior to my own. I mean, they were all drafts, but I was worried there was just going to be some genius stuff waiting there. Luckily, it seems everyone else is as much of a baby doe trying to walk� as I am. I know, just let me say my stupid shit once in a while.