I have new glasses :) The frames are even squarer than the last ones, which my poor moon face needs, and are shiny. Apparently they're Versache, and we all know how flamboyant I can occasionally be, so it makes a kind of sense, but honestly I don't give a shit who makes them as long as I never have to wear a pair of oval turtleshell glasses again in my life! Between them and just the general grossness of pre-puberty, my 5th grade year was a hell beyond hell.
Other than that though the day was kind of a downer. Hanging out with Patty wasn't as bad as I thought it might be, and the day went by quickly enough, but it's becoming more and more apparent that she is hemoraging money and has no ideas to fix the situation other than to sell off this place peice by peice (a thought that makes me literally physically ill) or for me to get a job with the government....and she means it. On top of that, everyone else on earth thinks I should be a teacher. I guess it's because they hear I'm a history major and can't figure out any other job off the top of their head that matches my degree. And it's not like I have a career to offer them up instead, because I'm more stuck than anyone. I know lots of places I don't want to work, lots of jobs I couldn't stand, and many places that just flat out wouldn't hire me (the government being one of them Mom!) but that doesn't help me find one I could stand, or would get hired for.
Of course there are always my dream jobs: casting director, author, artist, stay at home mom for sexy-Clancy-style-hunk-man and his spawn, but as far as I can tell I don't have enough experience, drive, or sex appeal to have pulled any of them off....yet. The future hasn't arrived and I expect great things, of course, but until then I have to find something to do with myself.
Plus, I think I might have to change my name. I just googled myself for the first time since high school and I don't even come up anymore. There are plenty of other people running around with my name...well ok just 2, but one of them fancies herself an artist and is making my ego do a little screamy dance of hate inside me that I am working VERY hard at expressing the light instead of. I'm looking on the bright side and laughing at the fact that she looks like a big dyke too, and maybe we could be friends and laugh about how we're not big dykes. Unless of course she is a lesbian, but then maybe that's where all the weird mojo comes from.
Oh well, I highly doubt I'm going to find my calling on a friday night, but I think I can find the tv and the marijuana, so I'll be ok.
