Ok, so, New Years. Tensions rising like crazy, people breaking things and such. I got called a bitch first thing in the morning, so that was lovely. What the fuck ever. I'm busying myself with applications. Sadly I have no skills whatsoever except photography, at least somewhat, so I'm applying to cheesy portrait studios! I've done it before and I can do it again! Glamour Shots here I come! I actually secretly love it. I love taking pictures of boys with their fists placed thoughtfully under their chins! I'm not being sarcastic, it's a real thrill.
Not a thrill: waiting around in a mall for two friggin babies who got LOST. (YOU ARE GROWN-UPS, people!). Trying to explain to someone with Asperger's why no one is going to invest in his idea of taking down a state park in New Jersey so he can build a replica of Coney Island, getting my eyebrows plucked by an ex-con. If it wasn't so awful, this place would be pretty funny. And my eyebrows look sexcellent. But now she is plucking the eyebrows of all the boys! Leave them brows alone! People are allowed to have unibrows, there is no shame in a unibrow! Another thing! Two girls told me today that they are grossed out by pubic hair ON MEN! First of all, whaaaat? Second of all, stubble. Third of all, the atrocious vanity of it all! And finally, if you don't appreciate a happy trail you are made of stone. Is this a common notion among the uninteresting? It's not OK for ANYONE to have ANY body hair? Everyone is supposed to look like a giant naked alien baby? I am so weirded out by this. It's like all regular people have become pedophiles now.
Anyway, good riddance to bad rubbish. So glad this year is over. You know it was supposed to be the best year of my life? You know, getting married, getting a house. I really thought it would be the most perfect year, when I finally started my real life. Now here I am, farther away from a real life than I've ever ever been before. BUT! Let's say it's going to get better. Even if it isn't, let's say it is. That this program will fix my brain. That I'll come back to California, get back my man, love and be loved by all my friends, finally get my cat to stop biting, open my own studio, etc. Let's just say 2011 will be the year it happens. Because if I don't say that, this is just too hard.