Monday
I was blond for maybe four months and I'm still fucking paying for it. I hate having my hair short, it's not me, knowwhattameen? At least I can cut it myself, although I don't know how long I'll be sharing that fact with Mel. Well anyway, enough about hair.
I hope I don't get fired on Friday. There goes a sweet $14 an hour gig. Well, the joke is still on them, they should have fired me about two years ago. Maybe John can get a job. That would be so nice.
I thought I was going to be in trouble for talking trash about this dumb-dumb intern at 944 for spelling Dwayne Wade's name wrong. The receptionist overheard me, I'm sure of it. Then I said we probably get paid in swag. Nobody said anything today, though. I stayed an extra hour anyway, to make myself feel better. I'm waiting for Becky Lee to call me. I get to cover local music for the next two issues. This great. My articles in gloss.
John and I had to go to Angelica's house on Saturday. It was a comic book themed thing, I went as a not so great Jubilee and John went as Logan, which just looked like John. Every bitch there was a prostitute from Sin City. Dumb-dumb. I think I may have just wanted to pretend nothing happened, that nothing has changed. So I did what I always used to do at her parties. I called every girl a whore. I got stinking drunk. I called Charles and talked to him in a dark corner in the back yard. I got hungry at 2 a.m. and started eating nachos that I got all over my Jubilee coat. I started crying in the car about how much I missed all friends that for some reason decided to move to the northwest. I snapped out of it. Then I went home and knocked over a cup of water onto my laptop. That will happen I guess. It's OK now, though.
I fucking hate my class. All two of them. I think I'm getting senioritis or whatever that was. I don't think I should be in college at 23 with a bunch of assholes who write like this is fucking sophomore English class. Every shithead in there is such a kiss ass, too. I feel like the only fucking one who realizes I'm not 15 and shouldn't be trying to impress the teacher.
On a lighter note, I've been listening to so much 80s lately that I think it's getting on John's nerves. Oh well, maybe I'm trying to take over my room again. I can't wait for us to move now. I get a bigger room, just in time for me to move out on my own again. No matter what, I'm sure my giant Led Zeppelin wall-taker-upper will remain a staple in my room's future decor.
Also, I'm apparently a natural at beer pong, something I have never ever (ever) played. I think it was my Jubilee coat.
Is putting 300 miles a week on your car bad? I can't imagine it being good.
Oh hot tub, why can't you be clean?
Fuck Pride and Prejudice. I think I'm just going to ruffle up some back pages, leave a bookmark on the last page in there, and mail that shit back.
Why did I never realize how cute Mitch Hedberg was?
This is my first 944 article:
http://www.944.com/articles/five-romantic-spots-for-valentines-day-sweep-your-lover-off-her-feet-literally/