To stupidity and beyond!

Even though they were broken up, Cortney had gotten Drew a gift for their one-year anniversary, and was still undecided as to whether or not she should get a card to go with it.

“If you can find one that’s really appropriate, then go for it,” I said.

So we went to the grocery store and looked at the different headings.

“Love?  Psh.  No!” Cortney said, bypassing that one.  “Birthday, no….”

And at the exact same moment, we both said, “Friendship” with huge grins, and moved over to begin examining them.  After all, he was the one who decided he wanted to be “friends”.

It didn’t take long to find the perfect one.  At the top, it said, “Things I Love About Our Friendship” and then there were all these little cartoons of these two girls sharing girly moments.  They actually looked a bit like us—the one with short, red, flipped-out hair, and the other with long, brown, curly hair—it was perfect for our purposes, though.

And so we headed to UNF, and Cortney presented Drew with the gift and the card.  He opened it, barely glanced at it, and said, “Thanks,” and then didn’t look at it again until about half an hour and quite a lot of sarcasm later.  Someone was talking, and I noticed that his gaze had fallen down to the card, and he was staring at it, probably thinking, “What the hell…?” when finally he looked up and said seriously, “Can I just ask a question?” at which point I had to restrain laughter, and then he said, “Am I supposed to be the brunette?”  (At which point it was impossible for either Cortney or I to restrain the laughter.)

Well, after much more awkwardness and sarcasm, he finally looked at Cortney and said, “Can I see you outside for just a second?” and they went, leaving Frank and me to speculate.  Frank engaged me in casual conversation for a few moments, but I had to look—“Are they kissing out there???” I said, and Frank said, “Yep,” and I leaned over to be sure, and they were, which excited me so much I had to go and call Nicole.

I love that Cortney’s psycho-manipulative methods worked, and he realized what a dumbass he would be if he gave her up, and that he just couldn’t stand standing there and not kissing her.  It was great.  It was totally like a movie.  Especially since she had originally told him she was going to kiss him senseless so he would want her back, and then didn’t do it.  He asked.  He said, “I thought you were going to give me this unbelievable kiss,” and she began to explain, “Well, I was, but I changed my m—” but he was already kissing her.  It was beautiful.  It was a total movie moment.  I’m so excited.  (And yes, perhaps he will get very small portions for a bit, just for all the hell he put Cortney through over the week, but I’m happy they’re back together.)

Then Cortney and I went to Nicole’s house and stayed until about 2:30.  We don’t get to do that often enough anymore.

At one point, around 12:30, we tried to call the Bad Date (the Stalker, the R.T.B., whatever you want to call him—he has many nicknames), so that Nicole could say, “Um, who is this?  Why do you keep calling my cell phone?”  His dad answered, went to get him, and no one ever came back to the phone.  So…okay…we just hung up.  Hahaha.

This I also found funny enough to include.  We were doing an all-play in Scene It, and we had to name what movie a certain clip was from (we all got Field of Dreams in, like, two seconds), and then Costner’s walking through the field, and at the exact same moment, all three of us whispered, “If you build it, he will come,” which caused Costner to turn around and look suspiciously out of the screen at us.  Cortney put his thoughts into words:  “How the hell did they know that was the next line?” at which we all laughed, and he turned back around, smiling faintly.  (Probably because he thought he was hearing things, but we chose to believe it was because he was laughing with us.)  It was all so perfectly-timed.

And I’m going to draw this entry to a close because I have another one to do that I think is going to be really, really long, and it’s already really, really late.


I Have No Idea

I had this freaky nightmare last night in which I was stuck in a huge maze with monsters.  It was nothing like Mazes and Monsters.  (There was no Jay-Jay.  With a wink to Cortney, who is the only one who will get that.)  It wasn’t really even like Labyrinth.  Maybe a bit like Goblet of Fire, but overall, really, it wasn’t like anything.

It was indoors, first of all, in this HUGE building, obviously, because the walls were really super-high.  The dividers between the rooms, I mean.  That’s what it was, a bunch of rooms, and you could see over the walls, but they were way too high to climb—way too high.  (Again—I suck at measurements and distances and such—I have no idea how to describe it.)  Okay…standing up straight, the walls were way taller than the highest part of our vaulted ceiling.  But even so, you could see that there were openings at the top, because the walls didn’t reach all the way to the ceiling.

Basically, we’re wandering through this labyrinth, and I think it’s just Katie and me, although I’m not really sure—it seems like Cortney or Nicole may have been there, too, and I really think Milo was probably around somewhere, but the one I remember distinctly (probably because she’s the last one I saw before I woke up) is Katie.

It felt very…Halloween-ish, and kinda Indiana Jones-ish, because I think we were in a freaking tomb or something.  Probably in Egypt.  (Maybe Greece, that might even make more sense.)

So we’re going through.  And we know there are monsters and crap in there.  Sporadically placed all throughout.  And we have to destroy them and such.  And the whole maze is just the giant, spacious rooms, with various doors leading all over, and narrow hallways, but all with the super-high ceilings, and we have no idea what’s through any doorway.  Then there was this huge scary giant thing that I think I threw over one of the walls…I got rid of him somehow.  And Katie, who had been separated from me somehow and was just over in the next room, yelled, “HOLY SHIT!  WAS THAT YOU!?”

So then we met up, and I was starting to think that maybe it all had somewhat of a Star Wars feel, and we were just laughing at nothing, because that’s what we do, when Katie’s expression completely contorted to one of horror as she looked at something behind me, and then something, whatever the hell it was, grabbed me and was carrying me away!

/scene.I H

And suddenly, a long-forgotten stalker returns from the grave….

Talking in my sleep has been frequent these past few days.  I have no idea what the hell I was dreaming this morning, but I woke up either in the middle of this, or during it…I don’t know, but I was saying it in my sleep:

“You keep looking for solutions to new scientific problems.  Understand the formulaic approach that science can never explain itself, and you’ve basically got it made.”

…!?  I don’t even know what that means!  I mean…what is that!?

You will never believe who called me today.  I hardly believed it myself; it had just been so long.  In fact, I think it’s been about two years since I heard from this person.

It was Brown Mucus.

I wasn’t home at the time, fortunately; my dad let me know, when he came back, that she had called.  But wow…the irony.

I realize that most of you have no idea who Brown Mucus is—it’s been that long.  Allow me to fill you in.

During high school, two of my stalkers were female.  Brown Mucus was one.  I met her through a few of my other friends.  She was always an oddball, with dirty, greasy hair, weird, unkempt eyebrows, and…well…she resembled a mouse, basically.

Brown Mucus’ favorite topics of conversation (the only topics, apparently, she knew how to discuss) were her boyfriend, her ex-boyfriend, the Jonas Brothers, whatever teeny-bop magazine she was currently reading, her period, and how sick she was.  Brown Mucus was always sick, and she always went into detail about it.  (Incidentally, the very name “Brown Mucus” comes from the time she informed me that she was headed to the bathroom with stomach issues, came back a few minutes later, and declared that she had thrown up the substance.)

She also had rapey tendencies and used to try to force me to make out with her boyfriend, and it was very frightening having her calling me obsessively all the time, even after she had moved to…Massachusetts, I think it was?

But I started avoiding her calls.  I was never home or never available when she called, and eventually she just sort of…gave up.

Now—oh, the irony of it all—now that I have another very real stalker, suddenly, she’s back.  Oh joy.

Stalkers, Beware!

On Tuesday I realized something—my history classes, when they end, feel like the ending of a weekly television drama.  They’re so interesting!  I’ve never been so interested in history classes.  It almost makes me want to take history up as a major.  (I won’t, I’m quite set in mine, but it’s that intriguing to me now.)

The stalker didn’t leave a message tonight, but he did reach a new record for calls—three within two minutes.  Does he honestly believe that, even if he could convince me he wasn’t playing anyone (not that I believe that anyway), I would want to go out with him now, after I’ve seen how desperate he is?  The guy has come full circle in his status of loser.

I deserve this, of course.  But I still choose not to look at it as punishment—rather, the stories I am getting out of this, and the enjoyment my friends take in listening to them, are a reward for Monica’s and my brilliance.  (Yes, that’s what I’m telling myself.)

I am, however, continuously punished because I am friendly.  So what if I smile at people?  I’m going to start glaring at everybody.  See how normal that looks. F&$*ers.

I was going to go into detail, but I don’t feel like it anymore.  I’m PMSing.  Sue me.

I got Tyler interested in Boingo.  The other day at work, when I was gushing about Danny Elfman, nobody knew what the hell I was talking about, but today Tyler came up to me and said, “Hey Ginny, what did you say was the name of Danny Elfman’s band?”  I told him, and he said, “Okay…yeah, I was watching Pee Wee’s Big Adventure today, and….”

And I said, “And you finally realized who Danny Elfman was?”  And he said, “No, I already knew, but I pointed out to my girlfriend that he used to be in a band, and she wanted to know what they were called so we could find them.”

Okay fine, so I’ll tell the dishwashers story.  They all make fun of me because I smile too much, because I, apparently, smile an unhealthy amount.  Like, I must radiate creepiness or something.  The next time somebody asks me why I smile so much, I’ll tell them it’s because I’m picturing what their insides would look like, smile, and walk away.  Or tell them it’s because I’m picturing them naked and am trying not to laugh.  Something along those lines. (Only I know the truth….)

So yeah, I get into work, and two of the dishwashers are separating all the dishes and silverware and everything, and they called me over.  One of them turns red and keeps his back to me as though he’s working really hard, and this other talkative one (I don’t know any of their names yet) is all, “We were just wondering—and by ‘we’ I mean all the dishwashers—we were wondering why you smile so much.”

The other one’s still hard at work on those dishes, and I say, “Oh, God,” and the first one says, “No no no, it’s not a bad thing!  I mean, don’t get me wrong, you have a nice smile, but we were just talking about it in the back.”

I just stare at them, and he says, “I wasn’t saying anything bad; that was all them” and suddenly the other one turns around and says, “Hey, I didn’t say anything bad!” and the first one’s like, “Dude, that is bullshit and you know it” and they’re arguing about it, and it’s kind of hard to follow along because I still don’t even know what was said, precisely….

So the second guy says, “No, that was all the other guy!  He’s the one who wanted to know if she’s on drugs or something.”

First guy says, “Whatever dude, you both wanted to know.  Well, Ginny, I’ll be honest with you, we all wanted to know.  But there, now see, I’m being honest, unlike this guy.”

The second guy says, “Okay, I’ll be honest, too.”

There is a pause.  And then the second guy says, “…I didn’t say she was on drugs!”

I’m just standing there staring at the two of them, and the first one says, “You have a nice smile, it’s very pretty, don’t stop smiling…we just wondered why you do it so much.”

The second one finally says, “Okay, so maybe I said you might have been on drugs, but…well, are you?”

“See?  I told you he said so!” said the first one.  “But we weren’t saying anything bad; do you believe us?”

“Yeah, do you believe us?” the second one chimed in.

“I believe you,” I said to the first one, “…but I don’t believe him.”

The second one says, “Oh God, she hates me now!  Thanks a lot, she hates me, she totally does,” and I walked away laughing, so I never heard the end of it.

But then for the rest of the night, the first guy would come up to me and be like, “Hey, smile for me!  Why aren’t you smiling, Susie McSmilesalot?”

The second guy would turn red every time I came near him.

Then the third guy, who, in his absence from that conversation, was accused of having said all the bad things, kept coming up to me for random things….  For example, I’m out washing up on my line, and he comes up to me with a pizza slicer that he’s washed and hands it to me, and studies my face really closely, like he’s waiting to see if I’ll smile (I don’t) instead of just putting the thing in the drawer back in the kitchen, where he had just come from.

For a while I refused to smile at any of them, just to unnerve them.  Hahaha.  But it was amusing the way they were all acting, so finally I just started laughing at them.  Like, the second guy kept acting like he was trying to make up for thinking I was on drugs…he kept trying to say and do things to make me laugh…and of course, the other two.

So Many Dreams!

I’ve been too busy with school stuff over the past few days to spare a moment for updating, but I’ve actually been dreaming just about every night.  Really bizarre stuff, too, although for the most part, I haven’t been able to salvage much from my memory by way of plotlines.  Just details that I know are related somehow, and I can’t remember how to put them together….  Forgive the long and abstract stream-of-consciousness rant.  You don’t have to read it.

First one.  We’re at a birthday party at Cortney’s house–Cortney’s mom’s house, I should say–but it doesn’t really look anything like her house.  For one thing, there’s a basement.  And Cortney, Nicole, Drew, Lily, Booboo, and I (maybe Cort’s mom, too) all get locked inside this basement which is flooding–slowly but surely–by–get this–an evil magician.  And suddenly Lily curls up and she’s dying, like, the life is actually going out of her, I don’t know how we can tell she’s not just tired, but she’s dying.  But it ends up not really being Lily at all, and just some illusion that the magician has conjured.  The real Lily’s outside somewhere trying to figure out the best way to attack the magician.  The whole basement scene feels sort of like War of the Worlds…which, I’ve only just realized, is really weird considering this other dream I had a few nights later….

In case Cortney reads this, I probably shouldn’t mention (but I will) that for some reason, there were clowns at this birthday party.  Probably with everyone talking about It recently.

Next night.  I’m with a tour somewhere, and I actually know a few random people who are there.  I’m not even sure where we are, but I think it’s in the States somewhere, and there’s this Chinese guy with a…farm?  Well, a lot of property.  Basically the size of a national park.  And there are rattlesnakes.  And muddy water with rapids.  And hills and trees and–it’s very spacious.

Do rattlesnakes swim?  They did in my dream.  They were everywhere in my dream.  And I know that at one point, I actually said the line, “Snakes…why did it have to be…snakes?”  I’m not sure if I recognized the line when I said it–I think I was just saying it because I was really freaked out by it all, haha.

But you think rattlesnakes are the worst part?  Oh, no.  There are fucking plesiosaurs swimming around in the water, too.  Full-grown (I assume–they were really big) Nessies.  And they were vicious, too!  Actually, the whole thing had the feel of sort of a Michael Crichton novel.  Like Sphere.  It was kind of freaky.  Like the first one, there was a much larger and more intricate plot involved, I know, but I can’t remember it.  I remember somehow falling in the water, and something about SpongeBob, and almost drowning and almost eaten by a plesiosaur.  And climbing this really huge hill to see…more rattlesnakes.  And I feel like there was a teacher along with us, too.

So the next night I dream again.  This time I’m going to Atlanta, I guess for Thanksgiving, or something, and my boyfriend’s going to come along.  My boyfriend is Tom Hanks.  Tom from like, 25 years ago.

And there are other SNL cast members there, too, and every one of them is dating one of my friends, but I can’t really remember who everybody was.  I remember Tom.  Haha.  Cortney and Nicole, you were probably there, and most likely Kristen was with Will Ferrell, but all I remember is Tom, and a bunch of other people around us.

We didn’t go to Atlanta.  Everything around us started to turn red, and there were these huge machine things shooting things down from the sky (see?  War of the Worlds again!) and everybody’s dying, and Tom’s like, “We can’t go to Atlanta now.  We have to go [somewhere else].”  (I can’t remember where we had to go, but supposedly it was safe there.  I believed him.)

And then there was this British guy who gave me a hat.  And I gave him one, too.  His protected me from the huge machine things (which were probably alien)–I actually got hit by one and nothing happened.  This was foreshadowing, but I didn’t know it.

So we arrive wherever it is–but I think it took a long time, like it was all this huge quest, like Lord of the Rings or something.  And everybody’s freaking out, because we’re all convinced these huge…things…are going to destroy the world, right?  Then all the guys start laughing.  Laughing!  And it turns out the whole thing has been this huge, really well-planned prank on their girlfriends.  And then it turns out we’re on a movie set?  Like The Truman Show?  Nothing’s really real–nobody had died at all (and here I thought it was the magically-protective hat) and the walls all around us are playing scenes from old episodes of SNL, and there’s something really freaky with Tom Hanks playing this really creepy guy–I was actually creeped out–and I warned him he’d better never come near me if he was in that character, because it was too realistic and…creepy.  I think everybody else was having similar experiences with their guys, who are all, like, psycho.

Well, no, okay, they weren’t psycho, they were just having a good time enjoying the reactions to this ridiculously huge prank, and none of them could stop laughing.

Again, I know there was plenty more to it than that.

But the dream I had last night, I can remember that one best of all (perhaps because less time has passed).  Katie was a central character in this one, as were Ryan and his girlfriend Emily.  (That’s what Dennis said her name was.  Dennis informed me that she was insanely beautiful and can sing, and that it’s a good thing I’m planning to move to England.  *Le sigh.*)

So, Katie and I decide we have to find out exactly who this Emily is.  I guess by this point we’re both at UNF, and so we go looking on Facebook, and we find her, and there’s a link in her profile to this site she created all about her and Ryan.  It’s sickening.  It’s a bloody shrine.  There’s this huge picture of him in the top right corner, all surrounded by hearts, and there’s whatever date they got together (something really recent) and all this crap about how in love they are and how she’s never had anybody like this before who made her look at life the way she was now–you know.  Bullshit.  All trussed up with hearts and flowers.  Musical notes, too.  There’s all this information about Ryan, like, everything she knows about him, and at the bottom there’s a picture of the two of them, and some cheesy song is playing (I don’t remember what), and then there’s a list of their schedules, and all the classes they have together are highlighted.

This was some freaky shite.

Katie and I decide we’re going to sit in on one of these classes they have together (The Music of Physics? The Physics of Music? something like that).  Nobody will notice, we figure.  We take seats near the back.

Well, it wasn’t hard to miss her.  When we walked into the room, concealing our faces as well as possible, she was up at the front of the room, writing numbered sentences on the board.  It felt like a high school class somehow.  She’s writing, and she’s got this smug smile on her face, and you can tell she’s really bold and outgoing, and the stuff she’s writing is apparently really funny, but I can’t even tell what the hell it says (it looks like another language).  And all the guys want her, and even though I could only see the back of what I could only assume was his head, I knew he was sitting there smiling all content because he knew she was his and not all of these other guys’.

Somehow, it reminded me of Lily Potter.  In Slugworth’s class.  I should have looked around to see if Snape was in there.  The Lily Potter thing more than anything really made me think, “Damn it, I can never compete with this!”

Katie sat just behind me–this really huge, annoying girl I’ve never seen before was like, “KATIE!!  HEY, I HAVEN’T SEEN YOU IN FOREVER, LET ME SIT NEXT TO YOU AND BE YOUR FRIEND!!!!”  Katie gave me this look as that girl sat next to her, and I sat just in front of the two of them and we basically ignored that other girl.

So Emily sat down next to the back of Ryan’s head (I’m serious, that was all I could see through the entire thing, or somebody was always between us so I couldn’t see him), all triumphantly, and everybody’s laughing, and the teacher walks in, this heavyset guy with dark brown hair and a brown beard.  He used to be a football player.  Don’t ask how I know that.

You immediately think she must be the teacher’s pet, and he’s going to find numbers 1-6 and whatever the hell they said, written on his board up there, immensely funny, as the rest of the class obviously does.

He doesn’t.  His face goes taut, and he says in this ironic sort of voice, to all the rest of the class, “What I don’t understand is this.  Does she think I don’t already know these things?  I’m the professor.  I already know it all.”

The class goes silent.  (Katie and I look at each other, slouched down in our seats to be less noticeable, and grin wickedly.)  Nobody makes a sound, and then there’s this gasp, and we look over at her, and she’s burst into tears, and she runs out of the room.  But everybody still sits there all solemnly, and Ryan…doesn’t move.  He does nothing.  But still all I can see is the back of his head, so I don’t know if he’s sitting there fuming at the professor, if he thinks Emily had it coming, if he just doesn’t care, if he thinks it’s all as hysterical as Katie and I do…no idea.

Class proceeds, and for some reason we sit through it, and then Katie somehow knows exactly what’s going on, much to my annoyance, because I can’t figure out any of it, and the professor has left Emily’s “sentences” up on the board (they had punctuation; that’s the only reason I assume they were sentences–seriously, they looked like a combination of Gibberish and WingDings and Hieroglyphics and weird symbols from all sorts of other languages) just to make fun of them at random points through the rest of class.  And now everybody’s laughing with him.

I couldn’t figure out if Emily was used to being center of attention in this class and the professor had all of a sudden turned on her, or if he had just never liked her.  No idea.  But Katie and I started doing classwork for some reason.  We cheated using my calculator.  (“I’ve had physics before; I know what’s going on,” she said.)

And then we take our old Stalkers Anonymous group from high school on the road.  We decide to tail Emily.

She goes to this house.  It’s my old house in Virginia (but I think it’s only a few minutes away–like 25, maybe–in this dream).  The old neighbors were even still next door.  It was all dark, and everything had this weird bluish tint to it.  She didn’t see us watching her, but she went in, stayed for a few minutes, came back out, constantly looking over her shoulder.

Well, we decide to split up.  Brilliant, I know.  I go inside to look around, see what she was doing in there (we assume it’s her house), and Katie goes to follow her.

It wasn’t her house.  It was the professor’s.  There were pictures of him all over.  Apparently he’d been a federal agent or something before he was a professor.

He had this whole room–where the office used to be downstairs, actually–full of stuff about Emily, her record, all kinds of weird stuff.  Turned out she actually was psychotic.  She’d been a mental patient and had escaped, and was actually living now under a different name.  He’d been looking for her for a while.  And he didn’t like her one bit.  These are things I just knew.  There are photos of her, she looks damn ghostlike, and I’m extremely creeped out.  I decide to run for it.

But as I’m opening the front door, he’s opening it from the other side, and I let out this piercing scream and assume that he’s going to shoot me, because I knew he was undercover or something like that, and in the dream I assume he’s going to think I’m her.

So then he explains things to me.  Pretty much everything I just explained.  And I’m like, “Well, what about Ryan?”

“Oh, he’s a good guy–he doesn’t know anything about this side of her,” he said.

I thanked him for the information and said I’d been following her, and I had to go catch up with Katie now, so I ran off down the street, where it was still dark, towards the church.  That’s where it just stopped, I think.  My alarm woke me up.

I wonder if I would have ended up in the church and found that she was haunting the place.

There are these really annoying blonde girls sitting across from me here in the computer lab, doing their math homework, apparently.  So freaking annoying.  I walk in and they’re all giggly and, “Hehehe, I can’t do this!” and one of them suddenly goes, “Oh, now I get it!  Two goes into six three times!”

An Unfathomable Loser

HE CALLED AGAIN!  Starting at 9:06 p.m., he called four times within half an hour!  What is this guy’s problem!?

Finally he just left another message.

“Hi, Ginny, this is Mark.  I haven’t been able to call you the past few days because I’ve been working.  [Damn, and I thought he’d just given up already!]  But you obviously aren’t going to let me have my say [yeah, you moron, there’s your cue to exit!], so I’m just going to keep calling until you answer.  Later.”  Not even “bye” this time…“later”.  *Sigh.*  This, ladies and gentlemen, is a true stalker.

He seriously isn’t going to take a hint.  And he didn’t get it when I told him flat-out, either.  (Granted, that was a flat-out lie, but I told him, “I don’t want to talk to you; don’t call me”, and I’ve held up my end of the bargain.)

Oh, the unfathomable issues in my life.  The computer won’t stop restarting tonight, either.  It’s very obnoxious, because I need to do homework.

At any rate, I can’t wait to share the updates with my creative writing class.

I’m also going to start leaving him messages in my voice mail.  Then I intend to update it every time I know he’s heard it.

I’m not going to bother with links this time because I’m tired of putting up with the restarting.  I have homework to do.  Damn thing is pissing me off.


We were just reading people’s works aloud in class today and pointing out ways to improve them, what we liked about them, etc….  Then we ran out of time, and The Third Wilson Brother was handing them all back to us, and suddenly he looked at me and said, “Oh, Ginny!  I wanted to read one of yours,” so he put the Monica perspective up there and said, with this big enthusiastic smile, “This is a story.  I’m eager to know how this turns out.”

Like I said, of course the entire class knows that it’s completely true, and everybody’s pretty eager to know what’s going to happen.  So The Third Wilson Brother’s reading this, and then he interrupts himself and says, a delighted grin on his face, “I love what these two girls did to this guy,” and I laughed, and he said, “Is he still calling?”

I explained that the last time he’d called was Sunday, and expressed my hope that that meant it was over.

The Third Wilson Brother considers me for a moment, amused, and says, “You know what’ll be freaky, is when he shows up here on campus, right outside this classroom.”

Well, for one thing, even though the guy isn’t going to school this semester, for some reason he’s been showing up on campus just about every other day—Kristen keeps calling me and saying, “Mark stopped by my class today!”  What the hell?  Who does that?

So I just said, “Oh, Goooooddd….”

The Third Wilson Brother (I really need a better nickname) said, “Don’t worry, Ginny…we will all beat him up for you.”

I was instantly reminded of that movie I watched last week, The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer, and how at random moments, when Shirley Temple gazed at Cary Grant, there was a white light shining over him and he was wearing a suit of armor.

Work’s not so bad; I just miss having two days off per week.  I feel like all of my time (when I’m not procrastinating by updating this thing) is spent with homework.  Not that most of it isn’t enjoyable or at least easy…just that I don’t have a life anymore, and it bothers me.  Last year, when I didn’t have to work Friday, I was very well disciplined; Friday was my homework day, and it was all I did all day long; and then I could spend Saturday chilling in whatever way I desired.  Now when getting up in the morning, after getting a shower, I do homework; I go to school; I come home and do homework; I go to work; I come home and do homework; I sleep.  The weekend is spent entirely in homework (because the weekend consists of Saturday and nothing more).

But while I still miss Tinny, of course, I do now at least get along quite well with the other three servers.  Even the one who seemed evil at first—I think she was just shy.  We have more in common than I would have assumed.  She’s a Potterhead.  Among other things.  And Adrianna actually knows who Danny Elfman is.  And Sandra…oh, here’s an interesting story….

Tonight I passed Sandra something—a bucket of soapy water, I think, and she said, “Thanks…uh…Ginny,” and I assumed she was just distracted, but then she said, “You know, you really remind me of this woman I used to work with.  You look just like her!  Just exactly like her; she could have been your mom.  So now I always want to call you Leslie.”

I’m like, “HUH!?”  Haha.

Not my mom, though.  Somebody who worked with Sandra at Blue Cross twenty years ago.  WEIRD!

Of course, I’m used to being called Leslie by people who know my mom; I’ve gotten that my entire life.

Oddly, though, I can also remember being called Leslie by a few people I know never met her; I remember asking her if she knew these people, and she didn’t.

Maybe there’s this random Leslie floating around out there who looks exactly like me and is bumping into people who will one day know me so that they’ll get me confused with her.

Er…something like that.

Oh, remember that other evil girl, in The Third Wilson Brother’s class?  She sits by herself, against the wall, and is quiet?  I decided to attempt to befriend her.

So when I was walking out of the class, I ended up not having to—she actually approached me and said, “Hey, nice bag.”

We have the same bag, which I had actually noticed on the first day—she just has the backpack style, rather than the over-the-shoulder.

So then we just started discussing random things, and she seems like quite a nice person, really, and she smiled.

I had a really freaky dream yesterday morning; all these people kept coming up to me and repeating the words, “We have no homework.”  I must have heard it at least thirty times in a row.  I’m serious, this was weird.  I think I may have been chanting it in my sleep, too, because I finally woke up when a Hispanic person came up to me and said, “No tengamos—” and I woke up saying the word, “tengamos”.

It was so weird, though; I think it took places in other locations than just the café, but all these people were coming through my line and saying those words—all these sorority/frat kids, and they’re creepy enough as it is.  Weird, I tell you.

I have to do my homework now.