Class

The first day of class was Monday. I think it went pretty well. It's weird to not be a student anymore, because I know I don't look or act or dress like a professor, but I'm definitely not one of them. I'm almost old enough to be their mom. Weird. I finally got a letter from the museum telling me to never talk to them again. They found someone else "more qualified". Yeah, right. Whatever. They paid crap anyway.

I've also been sending my film to more festivals. I am thinking how great it would be to have a stack of rejection letters in my house. I think I will start a collection. I wish I hadn't thrown some of them away.

Just FYI, the 'e' on my keyboard is acting weird, so if I'm missing a few, that's why. I'm trying to watch for it, though.

Did you get your package? I sent it on Monday. I hope you like it.

Ok, changing the subject completely. I guess about a couple months ago, I stopped going to therapy and stopped taking the drugs they gave me. And I have to say, I feel so much better. Yeah, I still have days that truly suck, and sometimes I still think I'm crazy, but for the most part, I feel like I have been more of my old self. I'm not worried about the boys in my life, because they are idiots for not being more doting. I do lament the lack of action, but oh well. And, I know they want me, they're just idiots and so on. I also have seen the douchebag ex (aka Professor Cokehead/Professor Douchebag) a couple of time since school started, and I really feel nothing. I feel like I don't want to talk to him, but my stomach doesn't turn like it used to. He really is dead to me now. I would prefer to not see his whore girlfriend trailing along with him like a puppy, but then I remember that she is fat and boring, so whatever. I dodged a bullet with that dude. And I've been able to see that I can do better. Much better. Please.

We're almost to my birthday month. I'm excited but I don't really want to be older. I liked being young and in my twenties. And, the older I get, the more I want to have a stable job with a real paycheck. I don't want to live like a student anymore. I don't want to be poor anymore. I want to live in a place with a living room and a couch. I want to be able to take paid vacations. Believe me, I'm working on it.

So Ginger came back from Vegas and called me yesterday. Her message said something to the effect of "just calling to see how you are and how your class went on Monday". I was impressed by her ability to actually ask me how things were going for me for a change, so I decided to let it go. Maybe she realized she had been pretty selfish lately. When I called her back, she promptly started panicking about her class and said she desperately needed my help. Oh well. Par for the course, I suppose.

I'm not sure I have anything else to say at the moment. Talk to you later.