And now I'm waiting for Megan to get done with work and put on something more presentable than the dreaded red Kmart appropriate polo so that we can go to Sarah's party. About half an hour ago I was still feeling very reluctant about said party (particularly because I have to work at 6 tomorrow, which is a big limiter) but now that I've brushed my hair and put on my typical-college-girl pink cardigan with my show-some-cleavage white cami, I'm ready to go. And this, of course, is because I'm holding onto the possibility that perhaps, just maybe, there will be a hot girl there.

Some, of course, may find this hope contradictory to my previous entry about hating our love-centric culture, and to them, I crudely reply: I'm not looking for someone to define me; I'm looking for someone to fuck me.

I'm bound to be disappointed anyway, so it's not like it really matters. But at least I have something to motivate me off my ass and out the door. Otherwise, I was really on a role with my homework and would have been happy to keep right on doing it all fucking Friday night long. Yee haw.

Tomorrow night I'm going to Perkins with Ruby and Ben. I'm excited.

And then Sunday I'm going to see my mom, which is by no means a bad thing, but I wish I could say no to her for just one weekend so that I could get some more shit done. Oh well. I need to talk to her anyway.

I also need to call my dad, but I'm procrastinating. I'm contemplating just stopping by his apartment, just because I have a sadistic, or perhaps masochistic, desire to catch him with his new girlfriend (who was once upon a time a lesbian, but pulled a big ol' Anne Heche-- minus the crazy desert wandering and uberweird alien alter-ego). We all found out about her from the 4-year-old, and my dad has yet to say anything about her. The worst part about the whole thing is that he works with her, so he is potentially destroying his last real place of respectibility. Go Dad!

I really hope that Megan gets her bank job, but it makes me feel like a loser for being content to stay at Kmart. The job sucks, when you get down to it, but ultimately, it's serving its purpose. And beyond a simple paycheck, the hours are really flexible and it's right by school and they respect me and I now what the hell I'm doing. And I like the people-- well, most of them. The others give me a lot of bitching fuel.

I don't know why I continually feel the need to justify my employment there. Should I take that as a sign?

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