It's been the worst day, out from fucking nowhere. I'm done.

giant neck-bruise.

Not an amazing date. I kind of wasn't feeling it. The conversation was okay, though, so I guess I was more uncertain than certainly not feeling it. His credit card got declined, so I paid for our dinners. He took me back to his room but then was like, "It's really messy. You're not going to want to stay here." And I, Queen of the Messy Rooms, was like, "Believe me, I'm sure it's fine." And we went in and it actually was pretty bad, and he looked like a really sad dog, so I took pity on him and said, "We could hang out in my room if you want. I don't know who all is there, but yeah..." So we go up, and it's just Christea and Owen, Erica, my actual roommate, is nowhere to be found. He and I watch exactly one episode of Arrested Development on my bed. After one episode, Arrested Development was permitted to continue to play, and we were making out, and I am going to let you know... if a person is not a good kisser when they're drunk, against all odds, they may very well be worse when sober. Which sucks. He wasn't like a shy kisser, because those kids are trainable. He was pretty aggressive about it, and those kids take so much more work, so I gave up and let him suck on my neck for a while because then I wouldn't have to either gag on his tongue or have him suck my bottom lip so damn hard and not let it go. I swear to god, he would just suction my bottom lip and not do anything else, for like thirty seconds. He was just holding it with his lips. It was awkward.

So anyway, I need to find a way to say no, if he asks me out again, and I also would LOVE it if he slipped me some cash for his dinner, and also, let's be honest, I have a massive hickey on my neck and I am supposed to be both working with small children and having dinner with my grandparents tonight. Faaaaaaaaaaantastic.

the straights, the gays, the girls.

My life has been really busy lately and I am just goinggoinggoing and I need to start doing better in school and shit but there's just so much of it. Coffee and sugarfree Red Bull in the day, wine at night. Welcome to my life for the rest of the semester. I'm going insane.

Date with D2 tonight. I don't really know how that will go.

The animal handler got a new job, starting in May. He had gotten laid off by the place where he worked at the beginning of this month, and so now he is going to be a NYC Park Ranger. He says he will get to do some neat wildlife programs in whatever park he is assigned to. I am trying to decide if I am changing his name to the park ranger. The animal handler just sticks so well, though. It's catchy.

My friend from home, Mike, is staying with me right now. It's been really nice to see him. He is part of the reason I don't have a lot of study time (but I think the biggest problem is no motivation). Last night he and his ladyfriend didn't get here until like 1:30 and I was drunk and it was ridiculous, but I don't think I did anything terribly offensive, so that's kind of fabulous and so incredibly rare, given that I really don't have a strong handle on my behaviour when I'm sober either.

Suzanne was here yesterday. She, Bit, and I had brunch and cackled like the crazy bitches we are. That was really really good. Bit got french toast and gave Suzanne and I a piece because she couldn't eat it all.. I was still kind of working on it when the guy came to take our plates and he tried to take it and my kneejerk reaction, I swear to god, was, a gasped, "Don't take that!"  I felt bad for being so rude, but he just laughed at me, so that was okay. And then everyone laughed at me for a good three minutes.

I found the best sushi place last night, by the way. It's by where I babysit, and I got a yellowtail roll and a spicy tuna roll for $5.45. That's right. Rolls that cost $2.50. I love my life.

Josh and his friend Jeff were here all week and I saw them on Tuesday and Thursday. We went and saw Hedda Gabler, which I actually didn't really like, but Mary-Louise Parker was, as she is in everything, amazing. I swooned. She was such a frigid bitch and she did it so well. She was kind of frigid at the stage door, too. We three homosexual males that we are just nodeed knowingly, assuming she was in a Mood. On Thursday, it was four gays and me having drinks around Oscar's sickbed. The gossip that was flying in that room was obscene, absurd, and magnificent.

Fun fact: At the beginning of this semester, I got blackout drunk and hooked up with this guy who lives down the hall. He's completely unattractive, but a nice guy. He's also insanely theatrical and overbearingly Italian, which only adds to the unattractiveness. Anyway, apparently when he gets drunk, he talks about it and tells people that I have a really good body. Which can't actually be true, but I will take the positive press anytime.

I feel apathetic about a lot of things, particularly myself. Not doing as well in school as I usually do. I just want to curl up in my bed and sleep for a few weeks.

goddamnit.

Well, maybe he didn't miss me, but at least he gives a shit, rather than my bitchily inconsiderate roommate. I had to sleep on the couch last night, and no, not because she sexiled me, but just because she is massively oblivious to anyone besides herself. I'm honestly still so annoyed that I can't even bitch about it right now because, let's be honest, it would maybe come out skewed. I have every right to be pissed, though, of this I am sure.

I don't think he missed me.

shenanigans in cincinnati.

Ohio was amazing. Even now I am sitting here, having slipped back into my New York life semi-effortlessly, wondering if I really went, or if I dreamed it. My group, whom I previously thought of as distant, separate parts I had not ever gotten to know, became the most tightly knit cluster of ridiculous and amazing people. The nine of us, eight girls and one Ben, were living in the huge Over the Rhine intern house - Over the Rhine is a community housing neighborhood of Cincinnati that tries to put out affordable housing options -- aka you pay 30% of your income on housing, leaving the rest for food, clothes, etc. We visited mostly sites that were walking distance or definitely close to the area of our house. A homeless shelter (the Drop Inn Center), a few food banks/pantries, some soup kitchens, a free community art class to give the neighborhood kids something safe and stimulating to do, and we even did some legitimate manual labor, helping Over the Rhine clear a lot so that they could build a small parking lot/playground.

The organization that was hosting us and planning our itinerary, Greater Cincinnati Coalition for the Homeless, planned a bunch of activities for us, like Lunch on Food Stamps. They also had a speaker come to our house, Mark Teegarden, who told us his story of how he became homeless, lived on the river for years, and eventually made his way out of homelessness. He was truly an amazing and insightful man, full of sarcastic humour, wisdom, and perspective. He stayed at our house with us for the night, and literally all we wanted to do was hang out with him. He took us to get ice cream in Kentucky, smoked a few cigarettes with Paulina and me, and let us talk and goof around with him. He's in advocacy work now and will be moving to Wisconsin pretty soon to get married at age 50. He's such a BAMF, in short, and I think our whole group learned so much from him. The next morning, at 7:15 (I was always the first to crawl out of my cot toward the shower), he and I were the first ones up and were able to have a good talk. I felt like we made a connection. It was really good.

We split into small groups to go to the soup kitchens usually, since they only had room for a few people. Because we felt like we were hopping around and wanted to have at least a little permanency, our groups went to the same one twice instead of switching. Mine was a soup kitchen called Walnut Hills. The ladies that worked there were so passionate. Actually... everyone we met who was doing this work was so passionate. It was really inspiring. At one soup kitchen, Our Daily Bread, I had a great time serving. I was "the dessert girl." Three people asked me if I was Irish. It was so funny.

There are so many little jokes and giggles and shenanigans that went on in our group when we were home, goofing around and being serious, really getting to know each other, but when we were volunteering, as Esther said, we all gave it our 110%. For me, this was such an experience because, while I do volunteer fairly frequently and am no stranger to it, I typically volunteer with a certain population - the developmentally disabled and/or children. This was almost... outside my comfort zone. I had never volunteered with homeless and poor people before. It gave me a new appreciation for what they have to go through, for the people who work to help them, and for what I do.

It was also what I thought of as my "vice-free week." No alcohol, no smoking (well, okay, I let Paulina bum me a cigarette yesterday, but that was the first one all week... before I was just smelling them), no cowboy, no internet, very little communication even via cell with my friends here and in California (though the animal handler was very cute, texting me every day, and sent me a picture of beer on St. Paddy's Day), and very little alone time. And you know, it wasn't that tough. Even the drinking wasn't that hard. 

I think I missed talking to the cowboy more than I missed my wine. He and I went from talking everyday to not talking for a whole week. I still haven't talked to him. He spent the week in Belize and I was in Ohio, so we were both effectively incommunicado. I would love to talk to him sometime after he gets back and gets his life back in order about what we did for the past week... but if we don't get around to it, I guess I will live. I don't know. He's an important friend of mine. I feel like we can both tell each other what we are thinking. I hope he had a good experience the way I did. Yeah, I missed him. I don't know that I missed anyone else. Maybe my roommate. But with all the eight other people and the work to keep me company, I didn't have much time to be lonely.

We got home last night at about 1:45 AM and I guess I am just trying to get my own life back on track. With people visiting, an exam tomorrow, and about 6 dollars to my name, it's a little overwhelming, but it will be fine. I am excited about the new friends I made, reunions, going back to class and work, trying to be thrifty, etc.

One sad piece of unrelated-to-Ohio news: I got an email while I was gone. A buddy at the camp I've been volunteering at for nearly 5 years passed away after losing his short fight with brain cancer. Mark was such a facet at Camp that I know it is going to be tough for everyone, especially my honourary big brother Adrian, who had him as a buddy and, I think, on his team when he was a leader. Mark always had a smile on his face and knew how to make other people smile, too. He was such a sweet, loving man, I couldn't help but cry a little bit last night and a little bit this morning, too, remembering him. 

You will always be missed at Camp, Mark. I love you.

hello nyc. i missed you just a little bit.

I am back from Ohio at 1:45 AM - long drive, but so much fun and pop music and screaming and silliness. Stories to come tomorrow. I'm tired.

Asshole Boyfriend is a better person than me because he volunteers in an oncology ward, and that's the way I like it.

fuck.

I don't have anything to say to anyone anymore. I really wish I was a more quiet person. All I want to do is close my mouth forever. 

I'm leaving for Ohio to do service work with homeless people on Sunday. I don't know if I will have anything to say before that. If no, I'll be back Sunday night.

silly woman.

We're having dinner after spring break. What ridiculous turns my life takes.

oh dear.

So what happened is this: Joe had some people over from his birthday. Sweet guys. All total nerds. One of them was one of their chemistry TAs. He was from Poland. Pretty cute, too. But okay, so Guy from Halloween, further now known as D2 (his name is Dan -- fuck) is there. And he introduces himself, so I'm thinking he doesn't remember Halloween... and I'm knowing that I only remember what I'm told. But after some time goes by, there is some definite tension at the party, and when everyone leaves, I end up in Dan's room. We're making out and stuff, which leads to me trying, unsuccessfully, for like an hour, to give him a handjob, which doesn't go very well, and some point around, yeah, an hour, I felt like a moron and just got up and walked out. We had talked about having a date post-spring break, so... maybe. Imagine we had a totally normal, dramafree evening. That would be pretty impressive for me and this kid. Worth a shot, right? He's nice, he finds me attractive, he lives in my building, he has a single. Shmeh. We'll see. He goes to FL today and I go to Ohio Sunday, so it's not like this is a right-now decision.

lesbian?

Several humans continue to reinforce this idea that I am perhaps a lesbian. The only thing confounding them is that I do not like girls. Not just sexually... first of all, I just don't see the appeal. I don't think the stuff that I have is attractive. Sometimes I am very surprised when others do. Also I just do not enjoy lady-personalities that much, unless they let me DOMINATE them. So I guess I don't enjoy their personalities, I just enjoy that they let me talk myself blue in the face.

Apparently, these people say, I just "look" like I could be a lesbian. A lesbian told me this today. I may be having an identity crisis. All this time I thought I looked like a chubby white girl.

no one should be allowed to talk to me. ever.

I am a cranky, crotchety old woman and I don't like anyone.

On the upside, I spent twelve dollars on cheese.

exhaustion.

Today I was practicing my sign language presentation that I had this afternoon, when Erica told me she thought she had some gas. She took some Gas-X and I kept practicing. Like thirty minutes later, she is moaning. Loudly. She starts screaming like a dying mountain lion. I'm freaking out. She continues screaming for another thirty or so minutes. I call an ambulance. We're both freaking out. Apparently the pain was so intense like she had never felt before.

These supercool paramedics come. They're like, "Guys it reeks of weed in here." And I'm like, "I have no idea why." And the dude, who later told us that he was roommates with Dennis Leary -- hah -- says, "Look, we don't care at all, but sometimes police follow us on our calls, so hide your stuff." And Fuld was like, "Oh, she did." And then this guy, the ACDE of our building, who at the beginning of the year I totally wanted to have sex with, no lie, shows up at our door, and is like, "What's going on?" And I'm talking to him, and the cool paramedic guy comes over and is like, "Who are you?" He takes him outside and (we learn later) tells the guy that he can tell he's high on something more than pot and to take my cell number and get the hell away from us. Such a BAMF!

So they take us to Bellevue in the ambulance and we're in the waiting room for like 2 hours. Then they take her back and I'm not allowed to go with her... and I sit in the waiting room for another 5 and a half hours.

I missed work, which my boss was very understanding of because she is a sweetheart, and sign language again because I took someone to the hospital again. I think my teacher thinks I am full of shit. Who has to take two different friends to the hospital in the course of ONE week?! 

I have two exams tomorrow. I'm exhausted. I have to try to study for a few hours.

And I'm worried about my Derek, who had a really really rough night. I want him to tell someone else about it instead of just me, who can't really do anything to help him the way he deserves.

ok go.

What a great concert. Given, last semester I went to concerts like every two weeks, and this was the first one of this semester... so I have been starved of live music. But fuck. Those boys put on a great show. They played "Do What You Want" -- one of my favourite of their songs, that I didn't necessarily expect to hear, and they didn't play "You're So Damn Hot," which I did expect to hear. I kind of like to be kept on my toes.

I think this song was one of the reasons I began dying my hair red. Even though there is no mention of hair, red or otherwise, in the song. I just wanted to be this girl.

So you were born in an electrical storm

Took a bite out the sun

Saw your future in a machine built for two

Now your rays make me kinda go crazy

Shock and awe and amaze me

Just a tickertape parade and me

But something was wrong

Until you tap danced on the air in the night

Screaming at the top of your lungs

You said, "Come on, come on

Do what you want

What could go wrong?"

this afternoon.

Something in my head stopped screaming (for once) and almost 3 hours flew by.

school stuff on a sunday.

I have so much shit that I have to do... I have a midterm for my treatment class on Tuesday, so I must stuff my brain full of details on behavioral therapy, CBT, psychopharmacology, SSRIs vs. TCAs vs. MAOIs, etc. Also I have to make up a sign language story to present for two minutes with the new vocab that I haven't really learned yet because I was in the hospital with Joe on the day that our class learned it. And there is a Pat C. Hoy writing assignment. I also am going to a concert tonight and work tomorrow. And coffee with Jake-who-likes-it-when-prettygirls-call-him-cowboy.

I saw an old friend last night whom I hadn't seen in like two years. We went for a few drinks at Park Bar, ran into this girl from my writing class of whom I am not the biggest fan, and Jake-the-blahblah's ex girlfriend, whom I had never met before, though apparently we both knew who the other was and felt it necessary to inform him of this chance encounter.

I am considering using Bridget Jones's Diary for my next writing class paper simply because I really really want to read it. And for me to write about anything, I will need to re-read each one... of five. I am considering the possible ramifications for using Gabriel Garcia Marquez's One Hundred Years of Solitude and Bridget Jones's Diary in the same essay.

If anyone can do it successfully, oh little Castner, it is you.

sometimes i wish i was like mariella

I wish my Friday was a laid-back kind of day. I have both my jobs and there is quite a bit of rushing like insanity between them. Fuck the Brooklyn commute.

Jake, formerly the cowboy, and I are having coffee on Sunday, primarily to discuss that we are both assholes, I think. If you're reading this, I dropped the pseudonym (expletive expletive expletive). He thinks I am being cold towards him. I think, first of all, that I don't even know how to be cold, and also that typically I am a very affectionate friend and I didn't want him to mistake my platonic affection for continued I-want-to-fuck-you stuff that no longer exists. Anyway I am hoping that that will be a good conversation, since he and I talk like every day and so he is, kind of suddenly, a decently sized part of my social/school life that I would hate to lose due to misunderstanding. If he wasn't there, I would feel really alone in Pat C. Hoy's class. Pat C. Hoy is the teacher... he can't be my only friend in there, too.

Last night my friend Derek, whom I have known for 5 years or something insane like that, was home from school -- he lives on the Upper East Side -- and so we had a late dinner with delicious sangria at Curly's and then went to Urban Outfitters while Jake and I were text-message arguing and I cried while he was in the dressing room trying on overpriced hipster gear and then we came home and watched Saved! and had one drink each. He critically assessed my physical being and told me he thought I would "do better with women." Apparently I am not alone in thinking that I am extremely unattractive to men. Derek and Jake should meet. And then the two of them should meet awkward sign language guy and the animal handler. That would be interesting. I almost think that Derek and Jake would be very successful in convincing the other two that I am an unattractive, frigid cow, given as I have not slept with any of the four of them, much to the latter two's dismay.

Tonight my sign language class and I are going to get drunk at Blockheads and sign to each other and pretend to be deaf and I am pretty goddamned excited about it. I am coming straight from work so I am bringing a water bottle of the vino to work with me (relax... it is staying in my purse and only coming out for the hour long train ride from Brooklyn to midtown). And this is day 3 of no daytime drinking, going strong. I am reasserting my love of coffee until it gets dark.

Lately things have been going well. I kind of miss the simple days of elementary school when I never spoke to anyone except maybe my parents and the occasional teacher. Oh, and the librarian.

Listen to Kate Nash's song, "Mariella."

New favourite FML of all time:

Today, I dropped my keys. Not wanting to lean over and pick them up, I pointed at them and said, "Accio." Then I realized I had tried to use a Harry Potter spell in real life and in public. FML.

I wish I was that person.

thursday morning.

Thursday morning before writing class. Coffee instead of wine. Everything feels okay. After my panic attack, I decided to leave early and walk the 30 or so blocks to work blasting Ben Folds. Such a good idea. It was great. Very soothing. I only have time to do that some days, but hopefully I will take advantage of those when I do.

And yesterday evening, you know, it felt okay. Eddie and I went to the Peculiar Pub after our ASL class (around 6:30 PM, so a legal evening time), had a glass of wine each. Went to my Alternative Breaks meeting - finally it looks like we are really going to Ohio! And then I came home, starving, cooked myself real people food for dinner (chicken breasts and vegetables sauteed and seasoned because I am a fucking champ) and had another glass of wine and did some reading and talked to the cowboy.

Last night around ten I walked down to the Food Emporium in my pajamas. After obtaining my large tub of cookie dough, I then proceeded to skip all the way back, occasionally allowing a giggle to pass my lips. I love skipping in New York. You know you're making an ass out of yourself and you know everyone is looking but you just keep fucking going until you get back to your house.

Today is going to be a really long day (Thursdays always are) but it will be fine fine fine.

it's okay.

It's okay it's okay it's okay it's okay.

I am hanging in there. If I am a good little girl I will let myself have one -- just one -- glass of wine as I read Howards End for Pat C. Hoy tomorrow, and then I am not allowed to go to the liquor store again until after work on Thursday night.

It's going to be okay.

oh no.

My anxiety has been getting worse from being so busy and being worried all the time about not being good at my jobs because I should be good at them because I've been working with these populations for years and years and this is supposed to be my future career but I don't think I'm very competent and I wouldn't be hired at these jobs if these people who hired me knew what my home life was like and there is such a huge fucking disconnect I am supposed to be nice and patient and kind everywhere and I'm just not nice or kind or patient I am an asshole and I'm weird and I'm an alcoholic and I'm worried about class especially writing because everyone else is a very good writer and I am not and the cowboy is there and he knows I'm kind of a moron but today I decided I have to stop drinking before class and work. Only in the evenings and only a little bit and only after I have done every single thing that I need to do.

Which may mean that I never drink again because I am always so busy or tired.

I gave my mom the number on the hospital bill like weeks ago but she said it's the wrong one but I don't know where the bill is and I don't know what to do.

Yesterday I had to take my friend to the hospital because he was really sick and he is a transfer student and he doesn't really have anyone else. We were there for 5 hours and they couldn't figure out what was wrong with him and he was freaking out and eventually they just told him that if it got worse, he should come back, but if not, go home and rest.

Everything feels like it's stacking higherhigherhigher in my head and I am alone with a sleeping stoner girl who has to smoke weed to get herself to do just about anything and then doesn't end up doing it but takes a nap and I need a drink I need a drink I need a drink.

I feel like I am going to throw up.

thomas, you're a very naughty engine.

Instead of my hair, I changed my sheets, from cowboys to my tried-and-true starfish.

We have been drafting this paper for two weeks now, with the final due tomorrow morning. I think that I am done, but I can't tell anymore, since... again, we've been drafting forever. I'm nervous about it, no lie.

Cut to me running to Third North to print tonight at 3 am, travelmug of chardonnay in hand.

No worries... I have chocolate covered pretzels and wine for breakfast tomorrow before That Class. We will make it through awkwardland... if not with grace, at least with a buzz on.

In other news... Kate Nash getting married makes me so happy and hopeful. Look her up if never you have, listen to a few of her songs. I recommend "Foundations," "Mariella," "Birds," "We Get On," and "Merry Happy." Oh... and I like "Skeleton Song" and "Mouthwash." And "Pumpkin Soup." And "Shit Song" and "Dickhead" and "Caroline is a Victim." (I think I might have just named every song.) Her lyrics make her sound like almost as intense a trainwreck as me. And someone actually told me that I look a little bit like her one time, but with glasses, and that made me reallyreally happy. She is presh. I hope she has babies.

A man on the street for Children International said something to me that almost made me cry today. He pointed at me and yelled, "You! You love babies, don't you?! You want to have lots of babies! What's your name?" To which I blushed and mumbled the words "goddamnit."

you're a very silly human, darling.

So I had no idea that anyone read this... except for you, my dear asshole boyfriend, and Carolyn sometimes, and Lisa when she is bored. So to anyone tuning in to this crazed rambling webpage, hello! You must also be insane! Greetings!

The JCH was good -- It was the last day of the "semester," with the new one starting up in like two weeks. We had some of the kids in the pool, so I didn't have to make awkward flirtacious smalltalk with the 15 year old because he had pool duty and I did not. Thank goodness. I get very creeped out with him now. He is far too damned knowledgeable... says the girl who was writing her own romance novels (aka softcore written porn) at age 15. But I was a virgin and stayed that way for another 3 and a half years, so it doesn't count. Anyway. I got to talk to one of the older girls, who is, ta-dah, not in high school, but goes to Fordham, and is probably in my grade. One of the girls took a picture of me with a child and looked at the picture and said, "Damn you are so white in all of these." I said, "Well, given that I am the whitest girl in America..." And she said, "I think it must be your hair." And so then I basically came out as a shiksa to all of the Jews when I said, "Well, I am Irish, you know... kind of comes with the territory." I swear some of them do believe that I am Jewish and I feel really awkward when I can only speak English and can't read Hebrew letters... One time, I put together a whole carpet with Hebrew letters on it... UPSIDE DOWN. It's absurdity. My boss gave me a nice letter saying thanks for being a volunteer, have a movie theater gift card. It's nice. I think I'll be able to come back next fall and eventually use her as a reference, which is great.

The other girls moved in tonight... but they didn't start even trying to move in until like, 5 pm, which I find odd, because they can't go to bed until they get all the shit off their beds. It's a disaster area in my house. There is one of those really annoying grey carts they give you to move your shit in and out still in my living room. It forms a barricade with the couch and the table (and boxes) so I just crept around it, closed myself in with my wine, and made a little When Harry Met Sally clubhouse. If I allow myself to sit through the whole thing, I can say with 100% certainty that I will end up happy. This is why when I am watching while wallowing, I cut it off at Sally's sad horrible line "I can't do this anymore. I am not your consolation prize." Then I tend to go cry for about fifteen minutes. But tonight was a decent night, albeit a frighteningly embarrassing one -- what else is new? -- and so I got to finish and can now again attack my paper. 

Strangely that was a lot better than a night with the animal handler would have been... not that we don't have fun, because we do and it's nice, but it's very simple and not necessarily in a good way. I wouldn't consider even dating him, given that information, but for the fact that I heard someone say that the smart thing to do, in relationships, is to be with someone who likes you way more than you like him. Given that I am always then the stupid one in the relationship who really likes him a lot, while he has slightly more feelings for me than he does for, say, a piece of lint, I feel that this could be an interesting experiment. But it wouldn't be too annoying to date such a devoted man, given that he lives in New Jersey and it takes a long time to make the commute. So if I am going to dabble in dating someone I am not superattracted to, the animal handler is the way to go. Also, I miss people thinking I am smart. No one has any reason to, lately. I mean, let's be realistic: though I have a good heart, I'm neurotic, obsessive, ridiculous, and I seem to believe that wine is a breakfast food.

it's march.

Well, time fucking flies. I can't believe it's March. I am going to Ohio to work in homeless shelters in like, two weeks, apparently, and school will be out in like.... two months. Fuck.

Everything has been insane as usual. The cowboy informed me on Thursday that he cares about me as a friend and doesn't want to have sex with me because it would be just sex, with no love or anything. Bastard. I hate being cared about as a friend. He also likes to end our conversations by saying "take care of yourself." Try not to patronize me, sir, because I will really kick your ass. Anyway, I am over it legitimately by now (Sunday). Really. I am way too busy with other stuff to think about cowboys.

The mom I babysit for told me that she is pregnant! So in the fall when I come back I will get to still sit for Chris and help out with the new baby. I am so excited. I love babies. This mom also has the coolest tattoo ever - I want it. It is the multi-coloured puzzle piece that is basically the logo for anything related to autism. I really really like it.

Erica had friends stay over Friday. They were really funny boys. That was fun. That night my friend Jeff and I went to my other friend Jeff's birthday celebration at this gay bar downtown, Urge. That was... ridiculous. We didn't stay too long because my friend left without us seeing him so suddenly it was like, oh... okay... you're not here anymore... The go-go dancers were hilarious.

Erica had to move back into my (our) bedroom yesterday because we are getting new suitemates, Christea and Samantha. Today we are essentially waiting for them to move in... and have been for an hour. They can move in any time after 10 today. I hope that they come before I have to go volunteer in Brooklyn... especially because the animal handler is maybe coming over tonight (yeah, I know, I decided AGAIN that maybs I will give him a shot) because his birthday (the big 2-6) is on Tuesday. Anyway, I don't want to JUST meet them and then be like, oh this animal handler is coming over for a while... no big... I hope that they are not bitches.

It is 11 AM and I am considering a glass of wine. Embarrassing.

All of my friends seem to be really fucked up right now and I kind of worry on a reg basis about a lot of them. So that's a bummer. Apparently people worry about me on a reg basis, too, though, so whatever.