I have to stop writing journal entries as if I was filling out a resume. Verb blah blah blah. Verb blah blah blah. And then and then. Amusing interjection in the place of closure. End paragraph.

I'm not even entertaining myself at this point.

My problems, or should I say, our problems continue with the new webpage. (We're in this together, like.) I phoned the machine guru (a.k.a. Scott) for help, as I have basically no idea how to set up the FTP program. Rather, I seem to connect alright, but I can't make my files stick to the remote server. Or something. In case you haven't guessed, I have no idea what I'm talking about, let alone what I'm doing.

"I say: deliver me from clear skin and perfect teeth!"
- fight club

I dunno if I agree with you Brad, I'm kind of into good teeth. One of the nicer things that's happened to me lately has come right out of the blue: i.e. my upper bite seems to be settling back into a true line. I've had problems with my bite since my left adult canine was removed. Suddenly, a whole lot of gumspace was available, and my eyetooth began to move in. I've had a slanty, crooked fang all through highschool and university. Suddenly, there's a whole lot less fang-age going on. It makes me happy, even though I have no idea why it's happened.

I spent the day volunteering to compensate for the fact that my employment agency seems to have forgotten my phone number. In a month, I've gone from "one of the best on staff" to a nonentity. I gotta tell you, it's not doing too much for the old all-pervading-sense-of-worthlessness thing I've got going on lately. This morning I seriously contemplated staying in bed...but avoiding the world is really only a short term solution for me. Unless and until I can develop the kind of freakish characteristics that would allow me to financially profit from being a shut-in ("I wash myself with a rag on a stick"), staying in bed only delays the inevitable.

All of which is to say that I spent the day among 11 year olds, and was not comforted.

One of the major things I have to work on is walking through the halls. Whenever I move between classes, it's immediately the most self-conscious moment of my life. I feel like everybody's staring at me, taking me down with their eyes. It's not being in public that works on me, I suppose. It's more that I lack a secure sense of place. Right now I'm extremely uncomfortable with the idea of authority...what if I tell them to slow down and they tell me to fuck off? What if they figure out how scared I am? Flood. Fire. Disaster. Complete and utter failure. I don't look forward to that at all.

And it's not any easier knowing that there will be kids who will hate me. There will be kids who'll flip the bird instead of obey. I will be called a fat bitch. At least that never happens to corporate administrative staff. Then again, there is the lure of being paid to talk about The Great Gatsby. I just don't know.

"She's hitting me with her pen!"
(I am shown the long ink streaks on the girl's forearm.)

"I want one of you to move to another desk."
(Silence)

"All right, but I don't want to see the two of you scrapping any more. You get one more chance. Then you get separated."

"What happens after that?"

"Then I rip your heads off and drink the fountaining blood from your necks."
(Giggles. And there are no more problems.)

- proof that i occasionally say the right thing