Joe Millionaire because, apparently, I just like to be pissed off at twisted, sex role games.
"I just realized all five of us are dating the same guy."
Well no shit, Sherlock!
The life-size, blackface jockey in the background during the Tango lesson that Fox tried half-heartedly to blur out.
A menstrual heat patch. Yummy, warmth in my undies. Why didn't somebody think of this sooner? I am tempted to put one on my tummy as well as my back. 16 hours and going strong.
Classes at NYU, tomorrow night.
Excited, scared, stoked.
A chicken enchilada with black beans in it. So, so wrong. But it tasted good.
But not nearly as fast as K.
A woman in my building at dinner. Her apartment is still full of asbestos since September 11, 2001. Can you imagine living out of a suitcase that long?
A big cold sore on a coworker's lip. Youch.
"Formed under intense pressure over a long period of time, a diamond is treasured for its beauty, rarity, and value."
-The Time of Our Lives: A Teen Guide to the Jewish Life Cycle.
queen of the hail mary save. Several bureaucratic mountains were miraculously moved in the last week and a half, after over six months of effort, nagging, phone calls, faxes, letters, and forms.
As a result, I start classes at NYU tomorrow night. It's hard to believe.
In still more good news, I only have one class to finish my degree from California, instead of two (dropping the journalism major entirely), as originally thought. Now I have to figure out if I can get into grad school by fall, or if any programs are open in the Spring. I might focus on writing colonies and grants, as that was a project I started 5 years ago, but the day-to-day realities got me away from it.
Tomorrow night I have a Poli Sci class, Monday and Wednesday I have a class for which authors are brought in to discuss their creative process and Saturday afternoon I have a lit class. This last is great, as there is a huge gap in my knowledge of the classics. I tested out of Freshman English, so the irony of having excellent written and language skills is not having read most of the books I should have.
I'm also signed up for an Urban Policy Class, but once/if CSUF confirms I definately don't need the units, I'll drop it. Three classes is much more manageable with a full time job. The reading list for my lit class alone is 12 books (some rather short, but still) and there are 3 or 4 books for my American Foreign Policy class. All the books are $260 even if ordered through Amazon (several books are $5) off, plus the free shipping. That's for only two classes, as the creative process course doesn't list any texts.
Last week I managed to get all my NYU-related errands done, including a writing placement test. Ah, bluebooks. I chose the topic "Are Men the Weaker Sex?" in which I finally utilized that Women's Studies minor.
The only thing I didn't get done, and I'm hoping it doesn't prevent me from attending tomorrow night is get my ID card. My boss let me out an hour early on Friday because he was going home, so it seemed the perfect opportunity. Alas, the ID card office closed at 4 on Friday, due to the holiday, with no forewarning. Guess their boss took mercy on them as well.
Bookstores, tests, bluebooks...it's deja vu all over again.
Considering how nutso the next 4 months will be, I decided to use the 3 day weekend to sleep, read and write. I did a bit of long-overdue archiving on John's site, but was too brain-dead to come up with ideas for overhauling another client's site. He doesn't quite know what he wants, I definately don't know and with everything that's on my mind at the moment, I was in no position to brainstorm.
Between housesitting, the last-minute errands for school and being sick, I was ready to collapse by Friday. In fact, even as I got ready for work I looked lustiyly at the tub and said, "tonight I'm going to clean you, because all I want to do is take a bath." Even that proved too big an effort and I was satisfied with a shower and changing into my comfy clothes and slippers before dinner. . . .
I am...surprised at how easy it is to spend time with K after a month of almost no contact. I almost hoped it would be more awkward, so I could just eschew his company altogether. But I still enjoy it. Damn it.
We met yesterday to talk about putting digital music on John's site, which took two minutes at the most and could have been done by phone. So why meet when obviously it's a difficult situation for me? Me, I'm torn, because I really enjoy his company, but I'm just not sure I need any more buddies. I have enough people in my life that I hardly ever see. Actually, sadly, I've seen K more recently than any of my friends outside of home and work.
And I refuse to be anyone's therapist, if I'm not getting paid for it. I'm so sick of settling -- to be friends with guys I really like and to sleep with guys I really don't (or no one at all). Those aren't great options; it shouldn't be so difficult. I'm this great person, if a little rough around the edges, and no one sees it.
What a sick, sad world if being open, honest and nice just gets you played.
[Next entry: "A Coed"]
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