Much Ablog About Nothing

Hello all,

I'm writing you today from the Pendleton library after having, yet again, another tragic haircut. I don't know what my problem is, I think that I may be to faithful of strangers. I have been told again and again by my best of friends not to go to the cheap places to get my hair cut, but I always think that today is going to be the day, I will get a great haircut from some charming and delightful townie. Instead I always get some trashy girl who got pregnant her sophomore year of high school, who is wearing clothes from Kmart, has clearly printed her barber license off the Internet and is smacking Juicy Fruit in my ear. And I always walk out of there with a prison hair cut and am too nice to leave a crappy tip. Damn my generosity. It's odd, I really don't have a problem being mean to people, but in the 2 second greeting you get before your haircut I invest enough faith in this piece of trash person to cut my hair, MY HAIR!! Oh well, she'll probably get the clap or something and I'll begin the whole process again in 2 1/2 months with some other teenage shotgun bride.

I have been doing a lot of training at the restaurant where I was hired only to find out that I'd be given one shift a week. Son of a bitch!!! Right? I did my shift yesterday and made $11 dollars. Seriously, I have learned enough about myself, I am interested in no more hard times. What the hell am I supposed to do with $11!! NOTHING. Geez.

Today I am looking for a new job online, using career placement websites. Dad seemed to think this was a good idea and that I'd be a prime candidate for an insurance bureau. Can you imagine? Me, selling insurance, or what ever they do there? That would be hilarious. I'd do it just to laugh at myself. Ha! Walking up to guys in a bar saying that I have a BFA in Dance Performance, sell insurance, and live at home with my parents where I settle for prison hair cuts. Lord, take me now. Granted, I'd be making more doing that than what I'm doing now, it would just be a very funny turn of events

Last night I had a very vivid dream that is sticking with me. Now, many of my dreams (70% or so)take place in places from my childhood. My old house, church, school, or fairgrounds, it's very bizarre and it probably means something, but why go to a therapist when if I keep it all bottled up inside it just makes me a more entertaining dinner guest? Anywho, the dream took place in my apartment from my first year at Butler, the one on 38th St. Not many people visited me there, thanks. There was an old woman who had lived and died there and my parents, some people I don't remember and I were there to clean up the apt. so it could be resold. She didn't have much, just some pictures on the walls of an old farm house and barn and a fridge filled with nonperishable items and Hershey's chocolate syrup. Everytime I opened the fridge there would be more bottles of syrup. Dad came to get me for a meeting on how to clean up the apt. saying that we would need to make it a few hundred square feet bigger and then I woke up.

What the hell does that mean???

I have been lactose intolerant for 2 weeks now and I think the lack of milk is driving me crazy. I used to make a lot of chocolate milk and maybe that's where the chocolate syrup comes in, but I don't know. I'm going to try Silk, the soy milk, and see if it's a good substitute. I bought a bottle of it once, for kicks, and it wasn't so bad. I hear there is some replacement for ice cream as well. But as for my best friend, cheese, from what I have heard, non-dairy cheese tastes like cardboard. I don't know what I'm going to do with myself, maybe this is the part of the movie of my life where I change everything about my life, become vegan and loose 50 lbs. and meet some bagger named Sven at Whole Foods and we move to Seattle and fight global warming and get matching Hybrids and get a kitchen floor made out of bamboo and adopt unwanted Mexican toddlers and I'll try to live a life with constant 5 o'clock shadow and..... and..... and.........no that probably won't happen. I'll probably stay at home for a while displace love from any possible outlet into my dog, gain more weight around my mid-section, dream of meeting someone while looking at all desperate personal ads on craigslist and never pay any of my bills and go to prison, well at least I'll have the haircut for it.