Master · Billy

HAPPY THANKSGIVIN, Y'ALL!

Popping Lortabs immediately when you get to work is A BAD IDEA. It may seem like a good idea, but trust me, it's not. I want to shoot myself in the face right now. And every customer is the enemy.

I just wrote Lou Barlow an email telling him how much I love him, how amazing a musician I think he is, and how I think his new album is the bee's pajamas. I am a ridiculous fangirl. Do adults really do this type of thing? I feel pretty silly. But whatever. I'm hungover and bored at work. I do what I want with the internets!

For New Year's, I think I'm going to take a road trip to Oklahoma City to see the Flaming Lips. On ticketmaster, with fees included, tickets cost only $29 a piece. Anyone wish to join me in my adventure? It'll be tons of fun!

I fail so hard! I just realized that I left the components of my Chaplin costume in my car. Which is in the shop. Which is closed today. Goddamnit.

Regardless, I'm not quite sure what to do with myself tonight. Seems like most of my friends are/will be in NOLA.

I want to play Trivial Pursuit.

Jesus, I'm boring.

I've been checking Craigslist for potential places to live, and all the people I've contacted about their ads have either been assholes or insane. Most recently, I contacted a guy who was offering a really good rate for a house (300/mo, utilities included), but he made very clear that he did not want to live with anyone who was "weird" or "strange," without specifying what he meant by those things. So I emailed him about that, and his response was "dungeons and dragons...star wars...black wearing...non conforming to society type people." So, nerds, free thinkers, and people with a penchant for black attire are "weird" and "strange." And then he went on to describe himself as being "very nice" and "laid back." Yeah, sounds like it. Hm. My response to him was, "Well, I like Stars Wars, so I guess I'm not the roommate for you. Good luck with your search."

I then contacted this "29-YEAR-OLD GAY GUY" and am still waiting to hear back from him.

This story made my day:

www.wtsp.com/news/local/story.aspx

That man is my hero.

Graduation is happening in May, and I'm looking into teaching English abroad soon after. I recently met a fellow who taught English in Prague, which is precisely where I'm interested in locating. He told me I'd need to save up 4 grand by May in order to cover all the costs, which includes the plane ticket and the certification program I'll need to complete.

I totally dunno how likely that is. I currently have zero dollars in my savings and am in debt a couple of thousand.

I'm hopeful though. I reeeeeally want to do this!

Me as a teacher? I'm curious to see how I'll perform.

I should start working on my diction.

There's only one person in this world who has the ability to render me completely abashed, and it doesn't even make any sense why this person would have any influence over my mental state. I usually don't care about winning anyone's approval. Why now?

I get sick to my stomach with all this navel-gazing.

I slept for over 12 hours last night, and I had the most horrifying dreams.  In one of them, my teeth kept breaking off, and when I got to work this morning and checked msn.com, one of the articles featured on the main page was "Why you're dreaming of broken teeth."  Is that not fucking WEIRD?!  Shit like that disturbs me.

I also dreamt that I was living in a house that was a portal to hell.  A giant Frankenstein zombie bit my arm off, and when he did, the face of the Virgin Mary appeared at the stump.  In one quarter of the house, there was a colossal Niagara Falls-esque waterfall that did not contain water, but rather blood and shit.  There were giant zombies and evil wizards everywhere, and I couldn't escape.  I was a prisoner in my own home.

Then I dreamt that I had a son and was living with my parents.  The years would pass but my son would never grow, and I was like, "Why won't he grow?"  Then I believed that he might be half-cat, which freaked me out.  And my son's best friend was a ghost.  The ghost would knock on my door, and whenever I would answer it, I would only hear a little kid's voice ask if my son could come out and play but nothing ever appeared.  We were living in an apartment complex and there was a little cemetary right in front of it.  I saw my son's ghost friend's gravestone.  The ghost kid's dad was raking the leaves off of it.

And then I had a dream that I locked myself in a bathroom because I was going crazy.  I think this was the continuation of the Frankenstein-zombie dream.

I've been having dreams like these every night lately. Well, equally morbid ones.   What the fuck is wrong with my subconscioius?  I'm a troubled young lady, it seems.  Deeply troubled.  I wonder if I should see a shrink.