In Which I Will Pobably Blow A Fucking Gasket

I'm doing some mad downhill sliding. The program scheduled today got canceled with so little notice. My assistant principal's a biiiiiiiiiitch and had to remind me of that this morning, I have to have a lot of information entered into the service tracking system that still has me listed at the wrong fucking school, thus causing everything I enter to disappear. I need to have everything entered in by tomorrow, no wiggle room. I also have to get a posterboard and get those signed by classes by Thursday too, I'm pretty sure. I'm still fat, my friends are still crazy, I'm getting my period, and I'm supposed to find a sexy cocktail dress by next Friday. I can't decide if I want to go smoke until i feel better, or go lock myself in my car or the bathroom and cry. I really want to cry. But I have a personal rule against crying in public unless I'm on a stage. Needless to say, I will NOT be attending the staff meeting this afternoon. I'll be doing well if I make it to 12 or 1 when I'll go over to the office and try to see if I can get a better grip on things over there. Where's ctrl+alt+del?

I did end up going to Chicago, everything worked out after much crying and tantrum throwing. There is something really wrong with the notion of a 25 year old throwing a tantrum to get her way. I went and was adored, which is a total turn on. I was blonde and glittery and fabulous. I still have the glitter under my fingernails to prove it. I didn't get to stay long, but everyone was really nice to me, which was sorely needed. I won't be getting that for another 9 days. Even the cabbie I had was the king of cool cabbies. Young Muslim dude. We talked religion and academics the whole cab ride in. I tipped him well.

Also, if I can help it, I'm never riding Greyhound again. The drivers are nice, but their booking policies are shit, as well as their major city employees (I'm looking at you, Chicago and Detroit). I booked the ticket back to Michigan online approximately 12 hours before departure. I clicked "pick up at will call" because THAT WAS THE ONLY OPTION. Fast forward 12 hours when I try to get my ticket. First they tried to tell me that that I had no ticket, then they insisted that I had purchased the ticket, but printed it at home and thus could not be printed again. So I bought another one so I could get home because it was 10 minutes before my bus was supposed to leave. I called customer service yesterday, and they're supposed to refund my internet fare in the next 7-14 days according to the nice, thickly accented man at customer service. I'm still considering putting in a complaint about the woman who told me what I did when I wasn't there. Not to mention the frequent overbooking to the point of SRO or take the next bus. Fuck. Greyhound. And on top of that, it takes about 20 extra hours to get anywhere. Seriously. From Detroit to Chicago can take anywhere from 8-10 hours. It's a 4-5 hour drive, with a comparable train ride. Megabus is pretty similar to the train, time-wise. And they're never over sold. Fuuuuuuck that.

I have hands.

I should write.

In Which These Are Your Shoes.

These are my shoes. We got issues.

I want to get Chicago this weekend but I don't know if it will come together in time. The organization that is in charge of paying me doesn't believe in direct deposit; they believe in making me wait for my paycheck (in addition to making me work for it). There's a bus at 4 which would get me there at 8, which would be perfect, but generally speaking, our checks aren't available to pick up until 4. There's a train at 6, but fuck that, it won't get me there until 11. I have to leave on Sunday so I can work on Monday. Yes, as part of my contract I have to do some community service bs on MLK. So even on my day off, I'm on. I emailed one of my supers asking if I had a snowball's chance in hell of bypassing theses hindrances. There's a glimmer of hope re: the paycheck, not so much for the MLK service day.

And on top of that, I'm not even sure if Matt wants to see me this weekend. This will be the two week mark, and I won't be able to see him for another two weeks if I don't go this week. So that's four lonely, sexless weeks. Priorities, right?

I can't help but think that this has something to do with the farewell party of that one friend of his that makes me all kinds of insecure. (I was working on that, but then the holidays happened and are still kind of happening and I feel really fat.) It takes place this weekend, and its obvious I will take any excuse for 1. a weekend away and 2. a party (drink enough, and everybody forgets how fat you are until the pictures are posted the next day and you are all like daaaaaaaaaaamn I'm never eating again! Not that I'm projecting.). I can honestly say that I do not wish any ill upon her, and I do kind of wish I'd have handled a few things differently. Who knows though, maybe I'm just reading too much into stuff. I have an outfit planned, just in case. That reminds me, I need new fishnets. We'll see how Thursday goes (yay meetings!) and see what I want after that.

Whatever I wanna do, gosh!

Also, this wedding stuff is bs. We might be back to black like Amy Winehouse, which is all well and good, but damn, pick a color at least and stick with it.

Ain't that some shit.

In Which Everybody Knows I'm A Motherfucking Monster

I think I'm screwed. I have no idea what I'm doing at this job, but I can't fuck it up, because if I don't, this could open so many doors for my resume. I think I'm well-liked enough to collect a few letters of recommendation. These things are more necessary than the actual diploma, and twice as valuable. That, and I don't want to do this again. I like my job and everything, just not enough to extend my contract beyond August/September.

Also, fuck Western. I have to pay for an unofficial transcript? I may as well get the official one if I'm going to pay, shit. Fuuuuck that. I'll have them shipped out and take my chances. #cheap

I apologize, hashtags find their way into every corner of my life.

Weddings bring out the crazy in everyone. I'm happier now with the most recent developments. Let's whip out the handy pros and cons list.

Recent development pro: As long as its the same color as the other bridesmaids, I can pick my own style of dress.

Recent development con: The color is navy blue, the one color that doesn't work with my skin tone.

Recent development pro: The dress will be in my price range

Recent development con: my price point fabrics give my dress a very good possibility of being polyester, taffeta, chiffon, or satin. All nightmares of functionality.

Recent development pro: since I am picking my dress, I can pick something that looks good on me now and I don't have to lose my mind crash dieting for the next eight months just to conform to some ugly dress.

Recent development con: I'm probably going to start crash dieting 1-2 months before the wedding.

But we'll see how long any of this lasts.

I still haven't told Matt that I'm going to be in this wedding. Or that he's going.

I kind of want to move back to Kalamazoo. Mostly because I was never more than three hours from anything.

Kanye West is helping stave off the winter blahs. His new album is saving my commute right now.

I think my adjective for 2011 will be sexy. I want to be sexy. Not trashy sexy, but arty, classy, old-school sexy.

With orange hair.

We'll discuss the unbelievable pressure of being 25 and long term, long distance relationships another time.

We're going to live a hell of a life.