Ms Kitty's tonight to see Amanda rock the joint. If you're not there then you suck balls.

Haha. Interesting choice of words.

In the span of fifteen minutes this afternoon I had two jobs. And Blockbuster just called for an interview. It's nice to have options but I hate decisions. Having a job was supposed to make me less stressed. Rarrrgh.

P.S. Who wants a good quality, fully functioning, only slightly used uterus? Comes with ovaries. What a deal.

P.P.S. I want Mia Kirshner to have my babies.

I wish I hadn't already moved my record player to the new apartment. I really feel like Orange Rhyming Dictionary right now.

Rico is awesome, drag shows are awesome, the Weakerthans are awesome, Buffalo is awesome. This place sucks.

I don't think I've ever been so genuinely unhappy in my entire life. The only thing to do around here is think way too hard about everything. It's worse today because I didn't sleep last night and I'm exhausted. But it's always bad anyhow.

I miss Rico unbelievably. Honest to god, he's the best friend I ever had. I hate myself for it but it bothers me when he has busy days because I'm jealous of everyone who gets to spend time with him when I can't.

I know it's kind of my own fault I'm so miserable all the time here. I never make plans with anybody because I'm never sure if I'll still want to hang out or if I'd rather just stay in and read and be a moody fuck. That and all anyone ever seems to want to do is go to trashy fucking bars with a bunch of sad middle aged people. Can't really blame them though. I'd like to forget I live here as well.

If not for Tricia, I probably would have lost my mind here already.

Work is done on August ninth. If I get an extension, I'm not sure I can make myself take it. I need the money, but this place is so bad for my mental health.

Birthday was low key. Hate having a birthday in the summer because school is out and I'm out of touch with friends. Real festivities, we've decided, start on Thursday when Tricia and I get to Buffalo. New apartments, non-gross-old-man bars (I hate Oswego), Jilliebean, and the Weakerthans. Better weekend.

Everyone at the office sang to me and got me an ice cream cake which I pushed around on my plate and then gave to Alison when no one was looking. Meghan made me brownies which Josh and Rico ate. Dinner with family and Rico and Tricia and Erin. Josh made vegan chocolate cake.

Got booze and a chalice and limes from Tricia, martini glasses from Erin, black and white matting and frames from Josh, a Harajuku Lovers bag and cartoons from Rico, and new chairs for the apartment from my parents. And a ring. From Tiffany's. In the blue box. With the white ribbon. Squeal.

I am a moderately pretty face with nothing else of value to offer anyone.

And I suck at life for being such a whiney bitch.

Rico has no plans in the event of a zombie infestation. He basically suggested heading for the woods. He is so getting his brains eaten.

Am I the only one who thinks ahead about these kinds of things? Am I the only one who intends to be prepared?

Joshie is making me vegan biscuits so I can have strawberry shortcake for breakfast.

She looks older than I ever remember seeing her. And she was holding my hand while she talked to me and I couldn't stay long because she has two hours to see about twenty visitors. So as I'm leaving . . .

she reveals herself as the most evil woman on the planet with the world's most effective guilt trip.

"So, I know you're so busy," she says in her frail, sick old lady voice, "and I don't need a lot but . . . if you could just stop by once or twice this summer, I would really like that."

Ouch. Straight through the heart.

"Grammie," I said half laughing and half sobbing, "You are so mean to me."

"Oh, I'm not trying to make you feel bad. I just miss you so much."

Stab.

"Oh no, you're crying now. I didn't mean to make you cry. Your brother cried, you know."

Holy God. One right after the other.

My grammie is sick and I really fucking hate it. I love my grammie and the idea that something bad might happen to her has never really crossed my mind.

I don't really know what's up. But she seems to be doing better.

And, honestly, I can't stop laughing

Because I have to do something for her today.

I have to buy ice cream
to sneak in to my grandmother
who is seventy-nine
and diabetic
and in the intensive care unit.

I was reminded to bring a spoon.